Institutional Imprisonment Part III

Let’s get right to the heart of it and I’m going to keep this part very fragmented because doctoral/PhD work can get quite dense and my aim is to make this accessible. After all, novel insight is only useful if people have access to it.

But first, let me briefly address the question that’s on a lot of people’s minds: why would an aspiring thespian or interdisciplinary artist suddenly stop all of it and enter academia? 

It’s a valid question. And it’s hard for me to answer because it’s complicated. So I’m just going to list a few reasons and not go into much depth. Maybe I will in later journal entries.

Here are the reasons: deep rooted insecurity about intelligence vs image, being triggered by certain people, suffering from residual trauma from events of the past whilst the entire world went into what felt like a never ending global pandemic, genuine curiosity about how thought can guide my own artistic practice because constant output is desired but sometimes raw confusion and questioning can lead to greater insight, which ultimately makes the work more powerful and coherent, and finally, did you know I’m Bipolar I? The hybrid nature of my academic pursuit was a convenient way to consume myself with work that I could structure according to my own needs, which included being hospitalized, medicated, detained, and then having to undergo intensive therapy. Again, for Bipolar I.

If it sounds intense, guess what? It was.

It is. And there is a strong element of why and how the imprisonment ties into all of this but I will address that later.

Now let’s get to it. One thing to remember is that this theory branches out into many different areas and subjects so this is an introduction. Its novelty, i.e., the new knowledge created, exists in comparison to and builds upon previous theory, as is the nature of academia; however this theory has strong roots and a pure origin within my own artistic practice as well. I will go into more detail on all of this in many more journal entries to come.

The CORE Theory

My work was a pure study of the human condition, one of many that already exist, and one that was not devoid of pain, confusion, and constant reassessment. I would say my mental illness did contribute to this as there are aspects of human behavior and psychology, which I think only comes to the fore when you experience a certain chemical imbalance. Like how people take certain types of mind-altering substances to gain new perspectives on reality, though I am not talking about drug use here. This is existential, circumstantial, survival instinct trying to defend the mind and body from overwhelm and destruction. 

The world can be a cruel place, which is why I suspect we continuously try to study the human condition because we don’t actually know what we are. We can’t reconcile everything we are with what any of us are. We claim oneness or shared identity but inevitably question who we are on our own in the face of history and in the face of ourselves and our actions: who we become and why we become the way we are. What meaning does it have? It can lead to the feeling of a void, deep distress, angst, anger, and even self-destruction, if it isn’t channelled purposefully, which can be a monumental challenge for some when you take away the need for immediate survival. Even then, some may say, why survive at all? This theory aims to bring some light to that darkness.

Humans are inherently fragile and cannot fully integrate emotional, ethical, social, and symbolic realities without risk of collapse. To construct coherent selves individuals choose to inhabit multiple overlapping realities — not only to survive but to generate identity, meaning, and ethical capacity. These realities are not meant to converge; rather, the goal is to tolerate and integrate multiplicity and fragility within oneself and in one’s interactions with others.

Ethical selfhood emerges not from imposing moral conformity or reconciling all perspectives, but from deciding, within one’s own realities, how to express all facets of self responsibly and fully. By acknowledging fragility as universal, humans can create space for others — even those whose values or actions are objectionable — to exist without total collapse or domination. This is extremely challenging and that’s precisely why we must remember fragility. We are not unfeeling or entirely rational programs who can absorb information and act accordingly like machines.

All human action — creative, scientific, entrepreneurial, humanitarian, or even violent — can maximize impact when actors recognize that separate realities cannot fully converge. What becomes possible is interdependent ethical self-expression: acting fully within one’s own realities while respecting the unavoidable separation and multiplicity of others.

Art, culture, and symbolic practice are existing methods that help humans explore multiplicity safely, but they are not the theory itself. The theory applies to every human being, because every person inhabits multiple realities, negotiates fragility, and can cultivate an ethical self that is robust yet open to difference. One that calibrates accordingly, can tolerate contrasts, that can participate in late capitalism without guilt and hopefully with ethical awareness.

The End. 

That’s the core theory summarized. And some of it probably sounds a little obvious: humans are fragile. Don’t we all already know that? But there’s more to it than that and it’s all there I’m just going to have to ease you into the detail.

So in Part IIII I will go over how this is novel insight or in other words: new knowledge.