The scoff machine

Nope, this is not the sort of book you should admit you fell for. But some cons do work, even on those who scoff at such persuasion gimmicks as the cover of Harley-Davidson and Philosophy: Full-throttle Aristotle. Arm-flexed tattoo et al., it's rather striking.

Thankfully, post-purchase rationalisation is possible. Call it the "Spence approach". If 12 professors took the trouble to write all this, it's a signal of some worthiness. Also, this is part of a series that has striven to extract philosophical gyaan from Woody Allen, Harry Potter and Bob Dylan (... and subtitle-of-the-year award goes to It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Thinking). Yet, my specific interest is in Harley-Davidson, a motorcycle brand positioned as "the freedom machine": a brand that gets such diehard loyalty that even the saner signs of it baffle observers.

So: what makes Harley Harley? Nobody in this book is bothered with any conceivable initial cause, except perhaps to reject outright any such thing"" consensus being impossible to obtain on it anyhow. So far, so good. How it all began is not part of the narrative. What is, however, is a whole lot of vroomobabble that free-wheels its way into incoherence every now and then, but, like the hypnotic potato-potato-potato rhythm of the mobike's V-twin engine, lulls you into acquiescence. For the trip.

For the fun: aaah!

It's a trip for the ultimate: "independent of conceptualisation", in the words of Graham Priest, professor of philosophy at University of Melbourne. Whatever that means, one thing is clear at the onset. Any mention of a "cage" (that thing on four wheels?) without adequate disdain disqualifies you as a reader who could possibly "get it".

Anyhow, get past the "dweeb" test in chapter 3, which involves acknowledging that "... part of 'live and let live' is 'think and let think'...", and you can get some readable stuff of patchy academic merit. How cinematic projection has transformed the image of the biker from "scruffy outlaw" to "cult leader of cool". How biking has spawned a leather fetish that's now part of the female sexuality arsenal. How the deployment of biker sexual stereotypes coughs up cash for media.

This book's main essay, though, is an exposition of the "freedom" stance. In a chapter titled "It's my own damn head", Colorado State University professor Bernard Rollin uses the freedom to ride his Harley helmet-free (or, sorry, get "spiritually airborne") as a reference point. He revs up on Greek philosophy to make a simple case: forcing a helmet on him for a ride, by law, is like forcing a condom on him for sex. "I love the wind through my hair and beard..." enthuses Rollin. No obedience, for him, to any "rational order" that tells him what to do; not because he sees the suggestion of such an order's existence as absurd, but "we have no good way of knowing we have found it".

Nicely put. But sex is in the private consensual domain (or ought to be). The "Great American Freedom Machine", as Harley's adline goes, is not. It's public. Does it strike him that maybe it's not just his own damn head the law is meant for? There's also the Spence signal effect (a risk signal) to consider, as Rollin comes vrooming sans helmet round the bend: "Watch out, folks, here comes someone so sold on his own freedom rhetoric that he couldn't care less if he's endangering himself and everybody else!"

Authority, you may scoff. But beware false reason.

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HARLEY-DAVIDSON AND PHILOSOPHY
FULL-THROTTLE ARISTOTLE

Foreword by R K Stratman
Open Court
Price: $15.25; Pages: iv+211