On God, Absolute Freedom, & the Post-Metaphysical Turn

Revisiting My Dialogue with Matt Segall On Michael Brooks & CIIS

Feb 21, 2026

Iain McGilchrist Conference at CIIS – March 2024

Abstract

Matt Segall’s process-relational panexperientialism grasps a profound truth — God incarnate in every galaxy, experience distributed throughout a living cosmos. This essay argues that the epistemological structure supporting that truth is insufficient. Drawing on Wilber’s 8 Zones, the Pre/Trans fallacy, and the framework of Integral Awareness and Commitment Training (IACT), I press a specific diagnosis: Segall’s Whiteheadian framework has adopted the surface features of the post-metaphysical turn without fully internalizing its demands. The result is enchanted flatland — richer and warmer than materialist metaphysics in denial, but still unable to protect first-person contemplative depth as irreducibly its own. A recent dialogue between Segall and Graham Harman makes this structural failure visible from the inside. The deeper context is Michael Brooks’s unfinished project — the philosophical work that cosmopolitan socialism needed and never got. The Canadian speculative tradition, running from John Watson through Leslie Armour to Sean McGrath, and the integral pluralism of Fred Dallmayr, provide the ground from which an alternative can be built. The argument to Segall is not a dismissal. It is an invitation.

Tags: Matt Segall, Michael Brooks, CIIS, Philosophy Cosmology and Consciousness, Process Philosophy, Alfred North Whitehead, Speculative Metaphysics, Post-Metaphysical Philosophy, Panexperientialism, Graham Harman, Object-Oriented Ontology, German Idealism, Schelling, Integral Theory, Ken Wilber, AQAL, 8 Zones, Pre/Trans Fallacy, Integral Facticity, Enactive Fallibilism, IACT, Metapattern Institute, Canadian Philosophy, Leslie Armour, George Grant, Charles Taylor, John Ralston Saul, Sean McGrath, John Watson, John Vervaeke, Fred Dallmayr, Integral Pluralism, Integral Humanism, Jacques Maritain, Charles Davis, Marc Lalonde, Gregory Baum, Thomas Berry, Brian Swimme, Richard Tarnas, Albert Low, Esalen, Sri Aurobindo, Haridas Chaudhuri, Habermas, Critical Theory, ACT, Steven Hayes, Hexaflex, Elinor Ostrom, Prosocial, Evan Thompson, Enactivism, Cornel West, Žižek, Todd McGowan, Lacan, Brendan Graham Dempsey, Iain McGilchrist, John Vervaeke, Cosmopolitan Socialism, Meaning Crisis, Concordia University, Memorial University

In the summer of 2022, I welcomed Matthew David Segall as my ninth guest on the Integral Facticity podcast. Our episode, “Varieties of Integral, Michael Brooks, and the Next Left,” was aptly titled. It reflected a reality: Matt and I were already operating with distinct, if then-unnamed, versions of “integral.” The conversation was partly motivated by the legacy of Michael Brooks, the political commentator who had died two years earlier at the age of thirty-six. The suddenness of his death crystallized a vital lesson for his intellectual peers: an authentic left-wing politics must be grounded in a profound philosophical anthropology. This framework must engage with religion and the question of meaning as essential, not merely functional; it must reclaim the sacred from the political right; and it must strive for genuine worldwide solidarity rather than simply imposing one culture’s ideals of liberation onto others. This was the unfinished project that Brooks had been diligently developing.

On February 17, 2026, Segall published “Heaven Save Us from Metaphysics in Denial” — a defense of speculative metaphysics against the scientific supersessionism of Walter Veit, and a characteristically intelligent articulation of the process-relational cosmology he has been developing in the three and a half years since that 2022 conversation. I want to respond to it. But what I want to say is not primarily about Veit’s errors, which Segall handles well. The core concern is the epistemological structure of the framework Segall is developing — specifically, whether it provides what Brooks’s project required but ultimately lacked.

Stated simply: Segall’s process-relational panexperientialism grasps a profound truth. The intuitions it houses — concerning God, Spirit, and the essential vitality of the Cosmos — are valid, and I share them. But the epistemological structure supporting the framework is insufficient. It has adopted the surface features of the post-metaphysical turn — rejecting dogmatic metaphysics, embracing fallibilism, appealing to participatory knowledge — without fully internalizing the deeper demands of that challenge. The result is what I will call an enchanted flatland: richer and warmer than materialist metaphysics in denial, but still, at the level of methodological commitment, a third-person cosmological account that absorbs first-person contemplative depth rather than protecting its irreducibility. A recent dialogue between Segall and Graham Harman makes this failure visible from the inside.

To make that case properly, I need to establish the stakes first — the vision that died before it could be built — and then the tradition where Segall works and how I came to know it, the Canadian formation that shapes how I read his work, and the framework I have been building as an alternative. Only then does the Harman dialogue become a case study rather than an isolated philosophical exchange, and the wider orbit in which Segall moves — Vervaeke, Dempsey, McGilchrist — become legible as a pattern rather than a collection of individual thinkers. The same architecture is missing in each case. The same crucible has not been passed through.

I. The Vision That Died Before It Could Be Built

What got me — and what got Jeremy D Johnson excited when we were first in conversation about the integral left — was a specific possibility that Michael Brooks’s Against the Web had gestured toward: a cosmopolitan socialism grounded philosophically in integral theory, that refused to cede religion and questions of meaning to the right, and that reached toward genuinely global solidarity. Brooks was building something: a synthesis of Wilber’s developmental consciousness framework with a cosmopolitan socialist politics, deeply informed by Cornel West’s insistence that the left must engage the spiritual and religious dimensions of human life, and by Žižek’s structural critique of ideology. He didn’t get to finish it.

He died before the questions of metaphysics — of what a post-metaphysical framework actually means for spiritual and religious life, of how religion functions within a credible left politics, of whether the integral left’s vision of consciousness development can survive contact with the full post-metaphysical demand — could be worked out philosophically. What was alive in Brooks’s project was the political vision, the insistence on cosmopolitan solidarity, the refusal to accept the left’s abandonment of the sacred. The philosophical work his vision required was still ahead of it when he died.

In “Beyond the Master Signifier” I mapped what Brooks had built against Hayes’s Hexaflex and showed that what he was doing in practice — through The Michael Brooks Show and Against the Web — was operating across all six of Haidt’s Moral Foundations through structures that welcomed correction rather than immunizing themselves against it. Brooks had built a worker’s counterpublic that functioned, in IACT terms, as a growth hierarchy rather than a dominator hierarchy. The question left unresolved was whether that political praxis could survive contact with the epistemological demand — whether the framework it needed could be built.

The Integral Facticity podcast began, in part, as an attempt to do that work. Episode 9 — “Varieties of Integral, Michael Brooks, and the Next Left” — was already performing the philosophical divergence between Matt and me, even if neither of us pressed it to its conclusion. Segall credited Wilber as the gateway through which he had found Whitehead, Schelling, Sri Aurobindo, and much else. But he was clear that he would “probably not” go back to Wilber as a framework, that he was “allergic to theories of everything,” and that he wanted to maintain what he called “irony or distance” from his own cosmological vision. He had moved through Wilber and out the other side. I was moving in the opposite direction — coming back to Wilber with more conviction rather than less. Not because I share the political or cultural orientations of the American integral community that has grown up around him, but because the epistemological architecture Wilber had built seemed increasingly to me like the right structure for what we were both reaching for.

We shared the political diagnosis: the left’s failure to engage the spiritual and religious dimensions of human experience is a philosophical failure, not merely a strategic one. That was Brooks’s conviction. But the philosophical paths we were taking from that shared diagnosis were already diverging. The 2022 conversation could name the divergence. It could not resolve it. When I turn now to Segall’s defense of speculative metaphysics, I am asking the same question I was asking that summer: does this framework have what Brooks’s project needed, and never got?

II. The CIIS Tradition and How I Came to Know It

Segall is Associate Professor in the Philosophy, Cosmology, and Consciousness program at the California Institute of Integral Studies. I did not come to know this tradition through him. By the time I sat down to record Episode 9 in 2022, CIIS had been part of my intellectual world for years — entering through two teachers whose presence in Montreal made the connection feel less like long-distance discovery than like something already close to home.

Albert Low was my first Zen teacher at the Montreal Zen Center. I wrote about him at length in “Albert Low & Zen at War” — his training in Philip Kapleau’s lineage, the contemplative formation that shaped my own practice, and the epistemological reasons I eventually parted ways with institutional Zen. What that essay does not dwell on is the institutional thread: Low was an associated lecturer at CIIS in consciousness studies. The contemplative depth he carried in Montreal he also carried into the CIIS world. When I sat with Low in Montreal, I was being formed by someone who also taught within the institution where Segall now works. The West Coast and the Montreal Zen Center were not separate worlds. They were connected through a single teacher who moved between them.

Gregory Baum arrived from the other direction. Baum was the exterior examiner on Marc Lalonde’s doctoral work under Charles Davis at Concordia — the doctoral work (Critical Theology and the Challenge of Jürgen Habermas) that grounded my own formation in the Frankfurt School and post-metaphysical thinking. He also, in 1987, co-edited Thomas Berry and the New Cosmology, contributing a chapter called “The Grand Vision” that engaged directly with the cosmological project that would become foundational to PCC through Berry’s collaboration with Brian Swimme on The Universe Story five years later. The line from Baum through Berry to Swimme to PCC, and from Baum through Lalonde through Davis to my own training, is a single Canadian Catholic intellectual network — one in which the cosmological ambitions that became CIIS and the critical-theological rigor that became my inheritance were already in conversation before either tradition had fully articulated what it was building.

I also knew the tradition through embodied encounter. Even living in Montreal, I felt drawn enough to make the journey south to Esalen — the Big Sur institute that Michael Murphy co-founded, the seedbed for so much of what became the human potential movement and, eventually, PCC’s founding vision. I participated in one of George Leonard’s Integral Transformative Practice workshops and met Leonard there. The encounter matters because of what ITP actually was: not primarily a theoretical framework but an embodied practice — the body as the primary locus of transformation, Leonard Energy Training as the somatic vehicle, the ITP Kata as the daily integral practice weaving together body, mind, heart, and soul. Leonard and Murphy had co-created ITP precisely because they had watched workshop participants make genuine breakthroughs at Esalen, only to return to old habits the moment they re-entered ordinary life. The insight driving the whole project was that transformation requires sustained embodied practice, not peak experiences alone. When I met Leonard, this was already recognizable to me as the same conviction I was carrying: that systems have to be tested against the resistance of the lived body, not merely asserted from within a theoretical frame. That recognition is what would eventually become Enactive Fallibilism — but I did not have the name for it yet.

So when Brooks died in July 2020 and the unfinished philosophical questions began to press themselves on me, it was natural that CIIS was where I looked. I had been formed there, at least partially, through Low and through Baum’s network. I had been at Esalen. The tradition was not foreign territory.

Understanding what CIIS is and where PCC fits within it matters for what follows. The institutional genealogy runs deeper than a simple founding date. The precursor was the American Academy of Asian Studies, established in San Francisco in 1951 — with Frederic Spiegelberg of Stanford, Alan Watts, and Haridas Chaudhuri, an Aurobindo disciple personally recommended by Sri Aurobindo, as its core faculty. When the AAAS dissolved, Chaudhuri continued at the Cultural Integration Fellowship, where Michael Murphy and Dick Price studied under him. Murphy had already lived at the Sri Aurobindo ashram in Pondicherry from 1956 to 1957; he and Price co-founded Esalen in 1962 as what CIIS’s own history calls a “cousin institution.” In 1968, Chaudhuri founded the California Institute of Asian Studies — renamed CIIS in 1980 — as the formal academic continuation of that same Aurobindonian milieu. CIIS and Esalen do not represent different genealogies: they represent two branches from the same root, with the “integral” in CIIS explicitly Aurobindo’s integral yoga, not Wilber’s AQAL. The Philosophy, Cosmology, and Consciousness program, where Segall teaches, was founded much later — by Richard Tarnas in 1994, emerging from a series of “Revisioning Philosophy” conferences held at Esalen and Cambridge, with Brian Swimme, Sean Kelly, and others as original faculty. Its founding ethos — in Segall and McDermott’s own words — was “the transformation of the modern materialistic mode of consciousness through the cultivation of a participatory awareness of cosmic history.” This tradition has kept something alive through decades when the broader academy made such ambitions professionally dangerous. What it has not submitted to is the zone-differentiated epistemological question that post-metaphysical thinking demands: which claims belong to which domain of inquiry, testable by which methods? That question — what Wilber’s 8 Zones were built to answer — remains unanswered in the CIIS tradition, and Segall’s Schelling-Whitehead synthesis has not answered it either.

Segall’s primary intellectual home is the Whiteheadian process philosophy tradition. His network is the Cobb Institute — the center for process philosophy and theology built around the legacy of John B. Cobb Jr., the most influential inheritor of Whitehead’s philosophical tradition in the American context. This matters for what I am pressing: the epistemological failure I am diagnosing is a feature of the process-relational framework specifically — it is Whitehead’s limitation, not a limitation of the broader speculative tradition Segall also draws on.

The podcast conversations came from within this prior knowledge, not as an introduction to an unfamiliar tradition. Sean Kelly was among my earliest guests — a conversation about transpersonal theory, the history of the PCC program, and the book he co-edited with Donald Rothberg, Ken Wilber in Dialogue, which had been one of the original catalysts for my own pursuit of religious studies at Concordia. What that conversation revealed was something I had not fully registered: Kelly’s formative connection to the Canadian philosophical tradition I was mapping in parallel. His doctoral formation ran through the University of Ottawa — the same institutional corridors where Leslie Armour taught — and he coined the term “integral ecologies” in the plural specifically to distinguish a diverse and pluralistic field of inquiry from the Wilberian singular. That Kelly made this move from within the Ottawa ground where Armour spent his career is not a coincidence. It is institutional memory operating below the level of explicit citation.

Segall was Episode 9, and Sam Mickey came shortly after. Mickey had done his doctoral work at PCC on the philosophical foundations of integral ecology, bringing Whitehead, feminist theology, phenomenology, and deconstruction into dialogue with the Berry–Swimme cosmology. His work on cosmopolitics touched on Michael Brooks’s cosmopolitan socialism and what the Catholic left could still offer a fragmented political landscape. Neither conversation resolved the epistemological problem I am pressing. But both confirmed, from inside the tradition I had already been shaped by, that PCC carries something real — and that the problem is architectural, not motivational. The tradition knows what it is reaching for. It has not yet built what it needs to reach it.

III. The Canadian Difference: Why This Is Not the American Integral Conversation

I hold Wilber’s post-metaphysical spirituality as the right epistemological framework. Where I diverge from the American integral community is in the political, cultural, and philosophical orientations built around it — and this divergence shapes everything about how I read Segall’s work.

The origin story matters. I studied at Concordia under Marc Lalonde — who completed his PhD under Charles Davis, the founding chair of Concordia’s Religious Studies department. Davis had been one of the most prominent Catholic theologians in England — editor of The Clergy Review, a major voice at Vatican II. In 1966 he left the priesthood and the Church publicly, came to Montreal, and spent the rest of his career building what he could not build from inside: a critical theology that took Habermas seriously, that refused to choose between religious depth and rational accountability, that held the tension rather than resolving it in either direction. I traced the full arc of Davis’s migration from Catholic theology to critical theory, and the rupture between Davis and Baum that it produced, in “Critical Theology & Integral Humanism.”

Lalonde carried Davis’s project forward as a “critical theory of religious insight” — and his sudden death in January 2025 remains a deep loss for this project, because the bridge he was building between Davis’s critical theology and Habermas’s communicative rationality is exactly the bridge the present essay argues is still needed. When I first mentioned “integral theory” in Lalonde’s classroom, he did not think of Ken Wilber. He thought of Jacques Maritain’s Integral Humanism — the 1936 work arguing for a political and social order centred on the full dignity of the human person, against both bourgeois individualism and totalitarian collectivism. Maritain’s integral humanism was there before Wilber’s integral theory, and the Canadian Catholic intellectual tradition knew it even if the American integral community did not. I traced this genealogy in “The Return of God & the Future of Integral Humanism.”

That collision — two different meanings of “integral,” with completely different philosophical genealogies — turned out to be the origin of everything I have been building since. The synthesis I have been attempting holds the Catholic intellectual tradition’s philosophical anthropology — its insistence on the irreducibility of the person, on the common good as not merely the sum of individual goods — within an epistemological framework that has genuinely absorbed the post-metaphysical critique. That is not a project the American integral community has been pursuing.

George Grant’s Lament for a Nation provided the diagnostic frame. Grant convinced me that the mechanisms of cultural absorption are philosophical before they are economic or military — that what the technological society homogenizes first is not territory but the frameworks through which a people understands itself. John Ralston Saul built where Grant could only lament — and in A Fair Country enlarged the entire conversation by insisting that Canada’s Indigenous philosophical foundations are constitutive of its intellectual heritage, not incidental to it. Charles Taylor theorized what Grant and Saul were practicing: his concept of “strong evaluations” — the shared moral frameworks that tell communities not just how to organize their disagreements but what they are disagreeing about — is what the Canadian tradition has always been reaching for.

Leslie Armour built the philosophical framework that holds this together: a “community of communities” organized by what he called philosophic federalism, a pluralistic architecture that accommodates genuine group differences without collapsing into either state collectivism or atomistic individualism. This is speculative philosophy in William Sweet’s sense: philosophy that goes “deeper into the heart of facts as they are,” refusing the artificial restriction of post-Habermasian proceduralism while maintaining the intellectual humility that the post-metaphysical critique rightly demands.

Sean McGrath at Memorial University represents the living continuation of a Canadian engagement with the German Idealists that goes back to the founding generation of the country’s universities. John Watson arrived at Queen’s in 1872 and published Schelling’s Transcendental Idealism: A Critical Exposition in 1882 — Schelling scholarship conducted from Canadian institutional soil, a century and a half ago. James Bradley spent decades at Memorial doing speculative philosophy in explicit dialogue with the German tradition before McGrath arrived. Armour was McGrath’s first teacher of metaphysics at Ottawa. What McGrath’s work on Schelling’s philosophy of nature and positive philosophy — in The Dark Ground of Spirit and most recently The Lost Road — represents is not the introduction of German Idealism to Canadian soil but its most recent and most rigorous development: carrying the systematic ambition of the Armour-Sweet-Bradley tradition into the contemporary Schelling revival, along with his recovery of the Carmelite contemplative tradition. As I argued in the essay on McGrath, his framework has not yet passed through the post-metaphysical crucible — his substantive ontological commitments depend on participatory formation to be fully intelligible. But the direction of his inquiry, and the institutional ground from which he conducts it, are genuinely Canadian in the sense I am developing here.

There is one more figure in this Canadian formation whose location matters enormously: John Vervaeke at the University of Toronto. I will return to Vervaeke at length in the section on the wider orbit around Segall. What I want to name here is simply this: the most culturally significant contemporary response to the meaning crisis — the “Awakening from the Meaning Crisis” lecture series — is emerging not from California or New York but from the same Canadian institutional ground that produced Taylor, Grant, Saul, and Armour. When IACT positions itself in dialogue with Vervaeke’s ecology of practices, it is not engaging a useful concept from a foreign intellectual tradition. It is extending a conversation that is already, in its deepest roots, Canadian.

Why does this matter for Segall? Because Segall’s work, whatever its philosophical depth, is American integral — by formation, by institutional location, by the cultural orbit in which it moves. The American integral community has tended to read civilizational difference as developmental difference, to commit to consciousness evolution as the primary political category, to converge toward a synthesis decided largely in advance. The Canadian formation I am describing produces different orientations: more suspicious of synthesis that absorbs rather than encounters, more attentive to the political consequences of philosophical choices, more insistent that the dialogue of civilizations is a genuine encounter between irreducible traditions. A framework that cannot protect first-person contemplative depth as genuinely irreducible will encounter the contemplative traditions of other civilizations not as genuinely other but as further material for its own synthesis. That is not the dialogue of civilizations Brooks was reaching toward.

I have traced this tradition in detail in the companion essay I published the same day as Segall’s piece — “On Speculative Philosophy and the Idea of Canada: Revisiting the Work of Leslie Armour.” The timing was coincidental, but the convergence is not. Both Segall and I are responding to a moment in which the questions of meaning, depth, and community the CIIS tradition has been carrying can no longer be addressed by academic cosmology alone, because the political conditions have made them urgent in a completely different register.

IV. My Own Position: Integral Facticity, Enactive Fallibilism, and IACT

Before pressing the critique, I owe the reader a clear account of where I stand. The argument I am making is not simply that Segall needs “more epistemology.” It is that a specific architecture is required, and I want to be transparent about what I have been building as an alternative. Readers who want the full argument should look at “Beyond the Master Signifier,” “When the Body Becomes the Laboratory,” and “Integral Epistemological Pluralism and the Nature-Spirit Problem.” What follows is the condensed version.

Integral Facticity draws its name from two sources held in deliberate tension. The Heideggerian concept of facticity — thrownness, Geworfenheit, the irreducible givenness of existence that precedes any theoretical stance we take toward it — is the ground. The post-metaphysical challenge cannot be met by transcending facticity. It has to be met from within it. I do not do philosophy from nowhere. I am formed in the Catholic intellectual tradition through Concordia, living in Montreal — and this is not incidental context. It is the condition from which the philosophical questions actually arise.

Habermas enters through a different door. His communicative action framework — the differentiation of validity claims, the insistence on intersubjective testability, the fallibilist discipline that no claim is exempt from discursive challenge — is what disciplines the factical ground. These two are in real tension: facticity without communicative rationality produces mere testimony, however vivid. Communicative rationality without factical grounding produces the abstract proceduralism that Habermas’s critics have rightly identified as insufficient — it tells us how to argue but not what is worth arguing about. Integral Facticity is the name of the framework that tries to hold both. As I argued in “Between Facticity & Grace,” Habermas’s procedural framework cannot generate its own motivational resources — but the motivational resources of the contemplative traditions cannot generate their own epistemological accountability. Wilber without Habermas is deep but potentially dogmatic; Habermas without Wilber is rigorous but flat. Together, they provide the architecture for a genuinely post-metaphysical engagement with the nondual.

Enactive Fallibilism is the methodological posture that results. It synthesizes Peirce's pragmatic fallibilism — every framework is provisional and revisable in light of further experience — with the enactivism that Evan Thompson developed in Mind in Life, building on the embodied cognition tradition he helped establish with Francisco Varela and Eleanor Rosch in The Embodied Mind: the body as the locus of cognition, mind arising from and through the living organism's structural coupling with its environment. "Enactive" means the body tests systems. When a framework is working — in recovery, in contemplative practice, in philosophical inquiry — it shows up in embodied experience. When it is not working, the body reports that too. Since late January of this year, I have been conducting systematic auto-ethnographic documentation of my own experience across the IACT Hexaflex dimensions — daily capacity scores, somatic markers, sleep architecture, relational facticity — precisely because Enactive Fallibilism requires that frameworks be tested against the resistance of the lived body, not merely asserted from within a theoretical frame. What the body has reported is that frameworks lacking zone-differentiated epistemological architecture produce a specific form of cognitive and existential fragmentation: genuine contemplative experience held in a framework that cannot protect its irreducibility. That failure shows up in the body. Enactive Fallibilism, functioning as designed, identifies the framework as the problem rather than the person

IACT — Integral Awareness and Commitment Training — is the applied framework in which these find their practical expression. It draws together Steven Hayes’s ACT Hexaflex operating across Wilber’s AQAL structure, Elinor Ostrom’s Core Design Principles at the prosocial layer, and the 8 Zones epistemological differentiation as the methodological spine. What makes IACT distinct from ACT as practiced in clinical settings is not the functional framework — Hayes’s hexaflex is indispensable and I do not modify it — but the epistemological architecture it operates within. Wilber’s 8 Zones force the question post-metaphysical thinking demands of every claim: how do you know this, and by what method? A first-person phenomenological claim is not the same kind of claim as a third-person cognitive neuroscience claim, even when they are about the same experience. The zones do not reduce to each other. This is the philosophical ground on which genuine dialogue between different knowing traditions becomes possible without collapsing into the premature synthesis that flattens what it claims to honor.

When I argue that Segall’s panexperientialism lacks the architecture to protect what it is reaching for, I am not arguing from the outside. I am arguing from a framework that has tried to take the post-metaphysical challenge seriously in its own construction — and that has tested its claims against the resistance of lived experience, daily. The body has a vote. When systems fail, the body reports it.

V. The Epistemological Problem: What the Framework Cannot Do

Before the specific case study, the general diagnosis needs to be named plainly. Segall’s framework — and the wider CIIS tradition that grounds it — cannot do three things that the political and philosophical project requires.

It cannot protect the Upper-Left. Whitehead’s process cosmology distributes experience across all actual occasions within a single ontological process. This restores interiority to nature — a genuine philosophical achievement against eliminative materialism. But interiority acknowledged is not interiority protected. The first-person phenomenological domain requires its own epistemological standing: its own methods, its own standards of evidence, its own mode of accountability. What Wilber’s 8 Zones provide is precisely this — the insistence that Upper-Left phenomenology is not reducible to Upper-Right cognitive science, not to Lower-Left hermeneutics, not to the processual relational description of what’s happening in the Lower-Right. Whitehead maps the cosmos with extraordinary sophistication, but the map is built in the Right-Hand quadrants and the Upper-Left gets absorbed into it rather than protected as irreducibly its own domain. As I argued in the IEP essay, the parallax gap Žižek identifies between nature and spirit is real — a confrontation of two closely linked perspectives between which no neutral common ground is possible. But the absence of neutral common ground does not entail that irreducible perspectives cannot be navigated. The 8 Zones provide the navigational architecture, holding perspectives in their irreducibility without pretending they reduce to each other — and without the tragic resignation that makes the gap a permanent philosophical wound rather than a starting point for genuine pluralist inquiry.

It cannot apply the Pre/Trans distinction. The Pre/Trans Fallacy — Wilber’s diagnostic for the systematic confusion of pre-rational and trans-rational modes of experience — runs undetected through process cosmology because the framework has no developmental epistemology adequate to distinguish them. Pre-rational experience is not yet differentiated from the natural world; trans-rational experience has passed through differentiation and found a relationship to the whole that transcends it without abandoning it. Both can speak of participation in a living cosmos, of God incarnate in every galaxy. Both can arise as genuine experiences. Detecting the difference requires the epistemological architecture to tell them apart. Flat panexperientialism cannot apply this distinction. I have explored this distinction at length in “Beyond the Master Signifier,” where the Pre/Trans Fallacy appears in political form: Wilber’s differentiation of growth hierarchies — structurally open to revision, welcoming correction — from dominator hierarchies — epistemologically closed, immunized against falsification — is the structural equivalent applied to institutions rather than to states of consciousness. Process cosmology that absorbs all counter-evidence as moments in its own self-development is, in this precise sense, epistemologically closed, however open it declares itself to be.

It cannot answer the question how do you know this? For any given claim in the framework — that experience goes all the way down, that prehension is the most general form of what we recognize as consciousness, that participatory knowing apprehends a genuinely living cosmos — the question of domain and method remains. The zones do not eliminate these claims; they force them to become epistemologically accountable in the domain where they actually operate. Without that forcing, speculative cosmology becomes a system that absorbs all possible counter-evidence as moments in its own self-development — internally coherent, externally unfalsifiable. The Habermas-Ratzinger dialogue identified this gap from the other direction: the architect of communicative rationality conceded that secular reason cannot generate its own motivational resources; Ratzinger conceded that faith must submit to the corrective of reason. What they arrived at was a “complementary learning process” — but neither had the architecture to hold what both brought to the table. B. Alan Wallace’s contemplative science showed that the bridge could be built through method rather than assertion. The structural bridge provided by Wilber’s post-metaphysical spirituality has yet to be fully embraced by the CIIS tradition.

A recent conversation between Segall and Graham Harman makes this structural failure visible from the inside.

VI. What Segall Gets Right

The critique is not a dismissal — and naming honestly what Segall’s framework genuinely achieves matters both as fairness and as precision. What I am asking of him is something genuinely difficult. Most of the serious thinkers working in this space have not done it either.

He is right that scientific supersessionism is philosophically untenable. Walter Veit’s claim that a materialist ontology falls out of our best science is exactly what Whitehead identified as the fallacy of misplaced concreteness — mistaking formal models developed under specific idealizations for the concrete reality those models describe. Physics models have extraordinary predictive power. That does not mean the universe is made of what physics models. The map is not the territory.

He is right that the post-Kantian transcendental tradition survives the critique of dogmatic metaphysics. Segall explicitly acknowledges that “dogmatic metaphysics has been superseded” while defending the legitimacy of inquiry into the conditions of possibility underlying all knowledge and experience. He is not pretending that Kant did not happen. He is arguing — correctly — that the transcendental move does not eliminate the metaphysical question; it relocates and refines it. As I defined it in the McGrath essay, post-metaphysical thinking means conducting inquiry without presupposing a cosmic ground, a purposive Idea, or an ontological telos — while remaining open to the validity of claims that emerge from traditions that do presuppose these things. Segall is doing something close to this. The question is whether “close to” is close enough.

He is right that his Whiteheadian method is genuinely fallibilist and empirically constrained: abductive, iterative, calibrated against the full range of human experience and revisable when it fails. This is not a philosopher spinning a priori systems in the manner of Leibniz or Wolff. It is a philosopher working in the tradition of William James’s radical empiricism and Peirce’s pragmatism, taking seriously that metaphysical hypotheses must answer to experience.

And his distinction between process-relational panexperientialism and Philip Goff’s substance-quality panpsychism is philosophically substantive. Segall is not claiming that rocks have feelings in the way humans do. He is making the careful claim that “experience” is a genus with many species — that prehension in Whitehead’s sense is the most general form of a process that, in more complex forms, becomes what we recognize as consciousness.

It is also worth saying plainly: Segall is not in a fundamentally different position on the epistemological question than McGrath, or Lalonde, or Davis and Baum. All of them hold genuine metaphysical commitments — God, transcendence, the reality of spirit — without having fully passed through the post-metaphysical crucible. McGrath’s framework cannot cross that threshold on its own; Lalonde spent his career working toward the bridge; Davis and Baum held the metaphysical ground while reaching for the architecture and did not find it. Baum’s involvement with Berry’s cosmological project — the same project foundational to the PCC tradition where Segall now teaches — makes the parallel particularly precise: the Canadian Catholic thinker who engaged most seriously with Berry’s re-enchantment of the cosmos was also, as Lalonde’s exterior examiner, the thinker who sat at the intersection of that cosmological ambition and the Habermasian critical-theological rigor that would later become the ground of my own work. The gap between Baum’s cosmological engagement and his critical-sociological formation is, in miniature, the gap this entire essay is diagnosing. What Segall is being invited to do is something genuinely rare: what Wilber did, and which most of the serious thinkers in this entire conversation have not done.

VII. The Harman Dialogue: A Case Study

In a recent dialogue with Graham Harman — the philosopher whose Object-Oriented Ontology has been one of the more disruptive interventions in contemporary metaphysics — Segall ran up against a problem he could not resolve on Whitehead’s terms alone. Harman pressed him: in Whitehead’s process-relational framework, there is no genuine substance-accident distinction. A thing just is all its properties and apprehensions at any given stage of its concreteness. There is no enduring core beneath the relational occasions, no depth that withdraws from its interactions — no Socrates who can be happy one day and sad the next while remaining the same Socrates. Whitehead inherited this dissolution of substance from British empiricism, from Hume’s bundle of perceptions, and it means that however much experience has been restored to the natural world in his framework, it has been restored in a form that cannot protect genuine interiority from exhaustion by its relational occasions.

Segall attempted to locate something like OOO’s withdrawal inside Whitehead’s account of the concrescence process — the moment where an actual entity achieves a novel, private perspective on the universe before perishing and becoming objective. Harman was unconvinced, and rightly. The privacy Segall locates is structural and momentary, dissolved by the very process in which it arises. It is not the kind of genuine depth that would protect first-person interiority as irreducibly its own.

The most revealing moment came near the end. When pressed directly on panpsychism, Segall said something that crystallized the entire structural problem: he has needed the German Idealists — Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel — to think something about the “I,” about self-consciousness, about the subject, that Whitehead does not help him think. He said it plainly. And then he retreated to panpsychism anyway, because he was worried about privileging human consciousness — worried about falling back into a philosophy of human access.

This is the trap in exact form. He needs the German Idealists for something Whitehead cannot give him. He cannot commit to the German Idealists without solving the human access problem. OOO’s hidden objects are not the solution — they give structural depth without developmental depth, withdrawal without spirit. What the Harman conversation could not find — and what Segall is feeling his way toward without being able to name it — is the zone-differentiated developmental epistemology that the 8 Zones provide. The zones do not resolve the problem by fiat. They provide the architectural framework within which the problem can be posed with the precision it requires: Upper-Left phenomenology is not identical to Lower-Right systems theory even when they are reporting on the same process. Acknowledgment is not protection. The zones protect first-person depth by insisting that first-person claims are testable by first-person methods — contemplative practice, phenomenological self-report, the kind of reproducible interior inquiry that B. Alan Wallace’s contemplative science has shown the contemplative traditions have been developing for millennia — and that these methods are genuinely different from, and not reducible to, third-person empirical or cosmological methods.

The Harman conversation is not an aberration or a bad day. It is the structure of the framework becoming visible under pressure. The moment Whitehead is pushed to account for genuine interiority, the framework cannot deliver. And the solution Segall intuits is correct: the German Idealists, Schelling’s philosophy of freedom and spirit, have what Whitehead cannot give. The problem is that reaching for them without the epistemological architecture to integrate them only deepens the muddle rather than resolving it.

VIII. The Structural Problem: Enchanted Flatland

The Harman conversation revealed a trap, not an accident. At the level of the framework’s architecture, Segall is caught between two attractors and cannot commit to either one without encountering a difficulty the other was supposed to solve.

The first attractor is Whitehead’s flat panexperientialism: experience distributed across all actual occasions within a single ontological process. This gives him the enchanted cosmos — God incarnate in every galaxy — but at the cost of dissolving the developmental distinctions that would protect genuine first-person depth. Harman’s diagnosis is correct: without a substance-accident distinction, the entity is exhausted by its relational occasions. The result is enchanted flatland — warmer and richer than mechanistic materialism, genuinely committed to the reality of experience throughout nature, but still Right-Hand dominant at the level of methodological commitment. A third-person account of how experience is distributed that absorbs the Upper-Left rather than protecting its irreducibility.

The second attractor is the German Idealist tradition — Schelling especially, whose philosophy of freedom and positive philosophy Segall has engaged through his scholarly work in Crossing the Threshold and Physics of the World-Soul. Here there is genuine developmental depth, the irreducibility of self-consciousness, the “I” as not merely one more node in a relational network but as the condition from which the question of relation arises. But Segall cannot commit to the German Idealists without solving the human access problem. If spirit is genuinely irreducible to third-person cosmological process, how do you avoid the privilege of human consciousness that makes genuine encounter with the other impossible on its own terms?

He said he needs the German Idealists for what Whitehead cannot give him. Then retreated anyway. That is the trap. What the conversation with Harman could not find is the zone-differentiated developmental epistemology that would allow Segall to hold both attractors without the oscillation collapsing them. The Pre/Trans filter — applied consistently, developmentally — is what would protect the German Idealist intuition of genuine spirit from absorption back into the flat panexperientialist cosmos. Without it, “every galaxy is God incarnate” and the pre-rational oceanic feeling of merger with nature are indistinguishable in the framework. Both are real experiences. Only the architecture tells them apart.

IX. A Wider Diagnosis: The Orbit Around Segall

The problem I am diagnosing in Segall runs through the wider intellectual orbit he inhabits. The pattern is consistent across every case: correct diagnosis of the meaning crisis, genuine philosophical contribution, reach toward re-enchantment or transcendence, and the same missing architecture.

Vervaeke, Henriques, and Extended Naturalism. John Vervaeke is Professor of Psychology and Cognitive Science at the University of Toronto — and this location matters, for reasons I traced in the Canadian genealogy section above. His “Awakening from the Meaning Crisis” series has had real cultural impact: his account of how the modern West dismantled the participatory knowing that wisdom traditions developed, his neo-Neoplatonist reading of cognitive science, his insistence that the meaning crisis cannot be solved by more information but only by the recovery of transformative knowing — these are genuine contributions emerging from Canadian institutional soil, in the lineage of the philosophical sensibilities that Taylor, Grant, and Armour built.

Together with Gregg Henriques , Vervaeke has developed Extended Naturalism: a framework that explicitly rejects panpsychism as “unworkably ambiguous” and attempts to construct a naturalistic account of consciousness and meaning adequate to the full range of human experience. Their layered ontology is epistemologically more disciplined than Segall’s process cosmology in certain respects — they are right to reject substance panpsychism. But Extended Naturalism gestures toward “strong transcendence” without the zone architecture or the developmental epistemology to defend that claim against the Pre/Trans Fallacy.

The more direct comparison is between Vervaeke’s ecology of practices and IACT. Vervaeke’s ecology of practices is one of the most important conceptual contributions in the contemporary meaning crisis literature: knowing is not only propositional but procedural, perspectival, and participatory, and transformation requires a constellation of mutually reinforcing practices addressing each dimension simultaneously. No single discipline — philosophy, psychotherapy, contemplative practice, community engagement — is sufficient alone. This is precisely right. It is also precisely what IACT is attempting to instantiate — but with the zone-differentiated epistemological architecture that Vervaeke’s ecology lacks. The ecology of practices stays within a naturalistic-cognitive-science frame even when it reaches toward the sacred. It cannot protect the Upper-Left as a genuinely irreducible epistemic domain. It has no Pre/Trans filter. And because it lacks a Heideggerian factical ground — no acknowledgment that the thrown, embodied, historically situated existence of the inquirer is the condition of any inquiry — it risks the intellectualist abstraction that Heidegger diagnosed in every framework that begins with the subject confronting the world rather than already being in it.

IACT answers the question Vervaeke’s ecology opens but does not resolve: what is the epistemological architecture that holds the ecology together? Which practices address which zones of knowing, by which methods, accountable to which standards? The ecology needs a map, and the map needs zones. Enactive Fallibilism provides the methodological ground from which that map is drawn. When the ecology is missing its epistemological architecture — when the practices are rich but the zones are flat — the body reports a specific kind of fragmentation: genuine contemplative experience held in a framework that cannot protect its irreducibility. Enactive Fallibilism identifies the framework as the problem.

Brendan Graham Dempsey and Metamodern Spirituality. Segall has been in sustained dialogue with Dempsey, whose Metamodern Spirituality project represents one of the most culturally ambitious attempts in this orbit to address the meaning crisis. Dempsey’s “Emergentism” grounds the sacred in the complexity sciences: the universe is a learning process, complexity grows, consciousness emerges, and we have a unique role in the cosmos waking up to itself. Their recent conversation on “Christ after Christianity” illustrates both the shared intuition and the shared gap. Both want to recover the metaphysical and cosmological import of the Christ event — not just its psycho-spiritual interior effects but what Paul called the transformation of the whole creation. That is a real and important question. But Dempsey’s emergentism grounds the answer in complexity science rather than in epistemological architecture that would make the contemplative claim defensible as genuinely trans-rational. Complexity science substitutes for contemplative depth. Without the Pre/Trans filter, the new myth of cosmic complexification cannot distinguish genuine religious renewal from sophisticated re-enchantment in emergence theory dress.

Iain McGilchrist and Perspectiva. McGilchrist’s The Master and His Emissary is a genuine and important contribution: the hemispheric hypothesis gives a neurological account of how modernity produced its particular form of disenchantment, and the argument that left-hemisphere dominance has displaced the right hemisphere’s holistic, relational, embodied attention illuminates an enormous range of cultural and philosophical phenomena. Segall’s PCC program co-hosted a McGilchrist conference, and the resonances with the CIIS tradition are clear. But in The Matter with Things, published by Jonathan Rowson and Perspectiva, McGilchrist makes a large metaphysical extension: consciousness is prior to matter, reality is fundamentally relational and value-laden, panentheism is the correct metaphysics. These claims may be true. But the argument moves from a neurological hypothesis to a metaphysical conclusion without passing through the post-metaphysical crucible. The finding that right-hemisphere holistic attention is prior to left-hemisphere analytic representation does not by itself justify the claim that consciousness is prior to matter. The inference is philosophically interesting. What it lacks is the epistemological discipline — zone differentiation, the Pre/Trans filter — that would make it defensible rather than merely plausible.

The pattern across all four: correct diagnosis, genuine philosophical work, reach toward transcendence, and the same missing architecture.

X. On Absolute Freedom: A Necessary Boundary

One boundary before the conclusion, because Brooks’s relationship to Žižek requires naming precisely.

Brooks valued Žižek’s structural critique of ideology and was right to. The analysis of how ideological formations reproduce themselves, how the left has systematically misrecognized the sources of its own failures, how the cultural logic of late capitalism colonizes even its ostensible opposition — these are genuine contributions. But Žižek’s metaphysics — absolute freedom as the abyss, pure negativity, materialism in theological costume — is a different matter. He borrows the structure of kenosis, God’s self-emptying, and strips out the spirit.

The kenotic structure is not merely borrowed — it is inverted. In the Christian theological tradition, kenosis is the condition for genuine encounter: God empties Godself precisely so that the other can be genuinely other, so that the relationship is not absorption but love. The emptying opens a space for genuine alterity. What Žižek does is retain the emptying and eliminate the opening — the void is absolute, and what follows it is not encounter but the endless traversal of a gap that can generate no positive content. His Christian atheism is kenosis without the pneuma, the self-emptying without the spirit that makes the emptying generative rather than merely nihilating. This is the difference between a framework that can sustain the movement from diagnosis to transformation and one that can only repeat the diagnosis with greater theoretical sophistication. The void names the wound but cannot heal it.

As Todd McGowan has shown across his body of work — from The End of Dissatisfaction? through Capitalism and Desire to Emancipation After Hegel — the Lacanian tradition can diagnose the structure of enjoyment with extraordinary precision. These are genuine contributions, and “Beyond the Master Signifier” draws on them directly. What the Lacanian tradition cannot do is generate the developmental resources to move through the diagnosis toward something that is not merely another repetition of the structure being diagnosed.

Brooks rightly engaged Žižek’s critique and rightly refused his metaphysical conclusions. What the cosmopolitan socialist project needed, and what Žižek cannot provide, is an account of absolute freedom grounded in spirit. As I traced in “The Language Parasite and the Symbolic Order,” Lacan and Steven Hayes converge on the diagnosis — language colonizes us before we can speak, the symbolic order constitutes the subject it claims merely to describe — but diverge completely on what follows. Hayes builds a technology of liberation: defusion from the language parasite, the recovery of contact with present-moment experience beneath the symbolic overlay. Žižek theorizes the impossibility of that recovery. The road through and beyond needs both the diagnostic precision and the constructive resources. Žižek has the first. Hayes has the second. Neither alone has both.

Žižek and Segall are making opposite errors: Žižek empties the metaphysical tradition of its spirit while retaining the vocabulary; Segall fills the vocabulary with genuine spiritual intuition but cannot defend the epistemological housing. The road through and beyond runs between them.

XI. The Road Through and Beyond

Segall’s piece ends with a line that names the real enemy precisely: “heaven save us from metaphysics in denial” — covert metaphysics, the materialist ontology that went underground as physicalism and became harder to criticize precisely because it had stopped calling itself metaphysics. He is right. Scientific supersessionism is metaphysics in denial, and it is philosophically untenable.

But the parallel danger that Segall’s work, and the wider orbit of which it is part, has not yet fully escaped is metaphysics in disguise: frameworks that have absorbed the transcendental critique of dogmatic metaphysics while stopping short of the full epistemological demand; that have put experience back into the cosmos without building the architecture to protect first-person depth from absorption into third-person cosmological stories; that have reached for re-enchantment — whether through Whitehead’s panexperientialism, Vervaeke’s neo-Neoplatonism, Dempsey’s emergentism, or McGilchrist’s panentheism — without passing through the crucible that makes those commitments genuinely defensible and genuinely dialogical.

Wilber’s post-metaphysical spirituality is what passes through the full crucible. The epistemological architecture he built — holding waking up, growing up, cleaning up, and showing up as distinct developmental axes; protecting the irreducibility of each zone; maintaining the Pre/Trans filter as the diagnostic tool for distinguishing genuine trans-rational achievement from its pre-rational simulacra; holding all of this within a framework that remains empirically accountable, fallibilist, and open to revision — is the right structure for what this entire conversation is reaching for. Where I diverge from Wilber is not in the epistemological framework but in the political and cultural orientations the American integral community has built around it. The Canadian formation I described above produces different orientations: more attentive to the political consequences of philosophical choices, more skeptical of synthesis that absorbs rather than encounters, more insistent that the dialogue of civilizations is a genuine encounter between irreducible traditions rather than a convergence toward a pre-given synthesis.

What the post-metaphysical crucible cannot provide on its own is the political philosophy adequate to the dialogue of civilizations that Brooks’s cosmopolitan socialism was reaching toward. For that, I turn to Fred Dallmayr — not as a fellow traveler in the Canadian speculative tradition but as the thinker who approaches the political consequence of the epistemological argument from a completely different angle. Dallmayr was at Notre Dame, German-born, working in comparative political philosophy and the encounter between Western and non-Western philosophical traditions. His integral pluralism begins not from a Catholic philosophical anthropology but from a phenomenological encounter with the other as irreducibly other. Where Maritain grounds human dignity in the irreducibility of the person before God, Dallmayr grounds political openness in the irreducibility of the other before the self — and the political consequence is a framework for genuine encounter with other civilizations’ philosophical and religious resources that does not presuppose the superiority of any single developmental hierarchy. This is not a minor addition to the post-metaphysical argument. It is its political philosophy. It is what prevents the architecture of the 8 Zones from becoming, in practice, one more framework that absorbs the contemplative traditions of other civilizations as material for a synthesis already decided in advance.

Dallmayr’s integral pluralism makes explicit what the epistemological architecture requires but cannot generate from within itself: the political posture of genuine encounter. A framework that can distinguish Upper-Left phenomenology from Lower-Right systems theory, that can apply the Pre/Trans filter, that can protect first-person contemplative depth as irreducibly its own — still does not, by that fact alone, guarantee that the dialogue of civilizations will be a genuine dialogue rather than a philosophical imperialism in post-metaphysical dress. What guarantees that is the prior commitment to the other as genuinely other — not developmentally behind or ahead, not a less-evolved form of the synthesis toward which history is converging, but carrying something irreducible that cannot be absorbed without loss. That is the political philosophy that Brooks needed and never had time to build. That is the commitment that makes the cosmopolitan socialism he was reaching toward something more than a progressive framework with better epistemology.

The framework I have been developing holds these together: Integral Facticity grounded in Heideggerian thrownness and disciplined by Habermasian communicative rationality; Enactive Fallibilism testing systems against embodied experience; IACT as the applied ecology of practices with zone-differentiated epistemological architecture; the Canadian speculative tradition — from Armour through Sweet and Trott and McGrath — as the philosophical ground that makes the “integral” in Integral Facticity something other than the American integral community has meant by it; and Dallmayr’s integral pluralism as the political philosophy that holds the whole project open to genuine encounter rather than closing it into a new synthesis. This is not a completed project. It is a direction, tested daily against the resistance of a body that knows when frameworks fail and reports it without ceremony.

The argument to Segall is not a dismissal of what he has built. It is an invitation to what the next step requires. The epistemological architecture I am pressing for does not dissolve the genuine insights of process-relational cosmology — the enchanted cosmos, the participatory knowing, the God incarnate in every galaxy. It defends them. It protects them from the Pre/Trans Fallacy. It makes the commitments to God, absolute spirit, and genuine transcendence defensible in a way that can sustain encounter with the contemplative traditions of other civilizations — with the Indigenous philosophical traditions Saul insisted are constitutive of Canada’s intellectual heritage, with the Carmelite tradition McGrath recovered in The Lost Road, with the Zen tradition Albert Low carried forward in Montreal for decades — as genuinely other rather than as material for a synthesis already decided in advance.

There is a conversation waiting to be had between the process-relational tradition Segall inhabits and the Canadian speculative tradition I am extending — a conversation in which Vervaeke’s ecology of practices at U of T, Segall’s panexperientialist cosmology at CIIS, and the IACT framework emerging from the Metapattern Institute are not competitors but partial answers to the same question, each carrying something the others need. The zone-differentiated epistemological architecture is not a barrier to that conversation. It is its condition. What passes through the post-metaphysical crucible comes out more capable of genuine encounter, not less.

In 2022, watching the first Webb images, Segall described every galaxy as God incarnate, and I believed him. I still believe the intuition. What I have been building since is the architecture that could defend it — that could distinguish it from enchanted flatland in Whiteheadian, cognitive-scientific, or complexity-theoretic vocabulary; hold it as a genuinely trans-rational claim with its own first-person methods and standards of evidence; and carry it into the dialogue of civilizations that Brooks was reaching toward before he died.

Heaven does not need saving from metaphysics in denial. It needs saving from metaphysics in disguise. The post-metaphysical crucible is harder than Kant’s Copernican Revolution. And Dallmayr’s insistence that the other is genuinely other — before any synthesis, before any hierarchy, before any framework has decided what the encounter will yield — is what keeps that crucible honest. What survives it is not less than what this entire conversation is reaching for. It is more defensible, more dialogical, and more genuinely open to the God and absolute freedom that Whitehead’s flat panexperientialism — and its metamodern, cognitive-scientific, and divided-brain companions — keep absorbing rather than encountering.

Integral [+] Facticity

Discussion about this post

Ready for more?