This is the second part of an interview with philosopher and author Alan Watts, conducted by Esalen co-founder Michael Murphy in 1966. Watts, a British-born philosopher and influential radio broadcaster in the 1950s, was instrumental in translating Eastern philosophies, particularly Zen Buddhism, for the American audience. He became a significant figure at Esalen in the 1960s, alongside other thinkers like Joseph Campbell and Abraham Maslow, contributing to a convergence of philosophy, psychology, spirituality, and embodied practice.

The Nature of Exuberance and the "Square" Mind

Watts begins by recounting an anecdote about a photographer, Cedric Wright, who labeled natural objects in a glade for a group of nature students. This illustrates a tendency to over-organize and label, which Watts contrasts with genuine exuberance. He critiques American exuberance, particularly as seen in industries like General Motors, suggesting it is often misdirected. He notes that corporations, in their seriousness, resist humorous advertising, such as that employed by Volkswagen, because they take themselves too seriously. This leads to a prolific, rather than genuinely exuberant, output, akin to producing children out of duty rather than joy.

Watts defines a "square" as someone so lost in their perceived reality that they lose touch with their origins. He explains this concept through the Hindu mythological idea of the universe as a cosmic drama orchestrated by a single consciousness, Brahma. Brahma plays all roles—mountains, stars, people—simply for the sake of play, like a game of hide-and-seek. The "square" is someone who takes this "pretend" scenario as absolute reality, failing to recognize the underlying play.

In contrast, Watts describes the "joker" as the opposite of the square. The joker, like the joker card in a deck, can be any role but takes none of them too seriously. This individual understands that behind all the diverse roles is the single player, Brahma. The enlightened person, therefore, is like the jester at court, aware of the impermanence and ultimate unreality of worldly roles and titles. He cites Shakespeare, where the jester mocks the king's pomp, reminding him of mortality.

Archetypally, Watts likens the square to the Hindu "grihasta" (householder) deeply involved in their life's role. The transition to "vanaprastha" (forest dweller) signifies a metaphorical return to nature and one's true self after relinquishing societal roles. He observes that American culture lacks a clear equivalent for this transition, leading to alternative, less integrated forms of "dropping out" like bohemianism or seeking refuge in asylums or prisons for a form of contemplative life.

The Absence of the Sabbath and True Leisure

Watts laments the lack of a true "Sabbath" in modern Western culture. He defines the Sabbath not merely as a day off from work, but as a day to step behind one's role and discover one's true self. Instead, he argues, the Sabbath has become a day to "lay one's role on thick," with people dressing up for church and receiving sermons that reinforce their societal duties. A true Sabbath, he suggests, would involve shedding these roles, perhaps even attending church naked, having divested oneself of societal insignia.

He contends that Western culture, particularly in the United States, lacks genuine "madigra" (days off), holidays, or orgies—safety valves that other cultures provided. This absence leads to boredom and monotonous involvement in work, as people lack real leisure. He describes Americans working in factories, watching the clock, and then using their earned money, supposedly the key to pleasure, for a TV dinner—a "shimmering silvery abstraction" devoid of sensory experience—and beer, before going to bed. This, he states, is a mockery of a life of pleasure, a "cold hell." He illustrates this with the example of people eating frozen custard under blue neon lights on a chilly night, calling these "blue hells" that are prevalent in America.

Materialism and the American Condition

Watts challenges the perception of America as the most materialistic country, arguing it is, in fact, the least. He defines materialism as a love and respect for material substances. He points to American settlements as potential or actual "junk heaps," with facades hiding shacks, ruined cars, and heaps of refuse.

The true test of materialism, according to Watts, lies in how a culture cooks its food. By this standard, the Chinese and French are great materialists, while American "folk cooking" is exceptionally poor. He criticizes American restaurants, even those recommended by guides, as "greasy spoon joints" where food is fried in rancid grease. Despite the availability of good raw materials, Americans do not love them; they eat out of duty, focusing on quantitative elements like vitamins and minerals, resulting in food that tastes like "foam rubber." He also notes that many home kitchens, though clean, function like laboratories, producing food that tastes as if washed in soap, all done without joy or gusto.

Watts, who enjoys cooking, emphasizes the art of preparing ordinary dishes perfectly, whether boiling fish, steaming vegetables, or boiling an egg. He finds grounding in cooking, getting his hands into the products of the soil, as a counterpoint to an intellectual life occupied with words. He expresses interest in cooking fish stews, pâtés, cold meat pies, and some Chinese and Japanese cuisine.

A New Materialism and the "Polymorphously Erotic"

Watts discusses the possibility of a "new kind of materialism" in the United States, particularly among young college graduates who are interested in a radical alteration of material culture, making it "pleasurable" and, in a sense, "erotic." He connects this to Norman Brown's interpretation of Freud, where the erotic encompasses the pleasurable union of the senses with their objects at every level—what Freud called "polymorphous perverse," and Watts terms "polymorphous erotic." This refers to the erotic relationship of the entire human organism to its environment, not solely genital.

This concept, he explains, frightens the "square element" of culture, who fear it will lead to orgies and unknown consequences. This fear, Watts suggests, is rooted in vagueness and the unknown, similar to how propaganda works by not specifying the evil it warns against. He draws a parallel to totalitarian states where political prisoners are kept in uncertainty about their accusations, playing on a chronic sense of guilt.

Psychoanalysis, Tyranny, and the Debunking of Sex

Watts critiques modern psychoanalytic theories, comparing them to medieval scholastic ideas as ideologies suitable for tyrants. He agrees with Joe Adams that some modern psychological theory perpetuates a rumor about the devil, albeit in a secularized form. He cites Philip Rieff, who noted Freud's view of sex as dirty. When Freud suggested sexual motivations lay behind religion and culture, it served as a debunking method, implying that even the most "saintly" individuals are fundamentally driven by base desires.

This, Watts argues, is the philosophy of "pseudo-democracy," where everyone is deemed equally inferior. This notion, prevalent in America, entitles police and bureaucrats to treat everyone rudely, unless they possess significant wealth and influence. He observes that foreigners applying for visas at American consulates are treated as equally inferior and suspect.

Watts views official psychoanalysis as a superstition or religion that will fade like a fad. He believes it aims to prove everyone has an equally "dirty mind," using terms like "anal retentive" or "oral erotic" to classify people, thereby reinforcing the idea that everyone is a "louse."

While acknowledging the validity of concepts like unconscious psychic processes and sexual motivations, Watts disagrees with Freud's negative framing. He states, "I don't think sex is dirty. I think sex is great." He suggests Freud could have used terms like "love" instead of "libido," which carries connotations of lewdness and lasciviousness.

Towards More Sensible Psychotherapy

Watts notes a new mood in psychology, with figures like Carl Rogers and Abraham Maslow offering more effective and sensible ideas about psychotherapy. He believes these approaches will prove more valid than the traditional psychoanalytic routine of the couch, dream analysis, and doctrinaire interpretation of unconscious symbols.

Regarding classical psychoanalysis, Watts believes it can, in some cases, help individuals brought up with bourgeois morality to come to terms with their natural human feelings, easing their conscience. However, he views the mystique of Oedipus complexes and the years-long process of working out deep-seated past experiences as having limited use. He cites emerging statistics suggesting that recovery may take longer with orthodox psychoanalysis than by leaving the issue alone, noting a higher chance of spontaneous remission of neurosis within 3.5 years compared to 5 years in psychoanalysis.