The collapse of conventionality can be more than fatal. Our death – heck, even just our failure – brings down others. I can’t emphasize enough how correct characterizing the world as “delicate” is. The unjust, awful things that happen to us on account of institutions partly occur because they feel threatened by the smallest of problems and we don’t wish to cause more trouble for others.

Maybe we can say man is the conventional animal. Is he the one who can make his bed and lie in it? Not quite: the delicacy of the world will not let us conclude such a thing. But we cannot conclude what lies beyond that delicacy is natural in any way we can comprehend or use. Nature seems, at times, only the possibility of reforming a broken convention. Many things could be said at this point, but I wonder if our resistance to politics is that life is too political for us already.