Jottings on Tanghe’s tangle with Huzinga’s zing.

Notes Inspired by Huizinga’s Homo Ludens and Tanghe’s re-reading on play and the humanities and out of a longer riff on Huizinga/Tanghe and what play means for culture-crafting today 

Koen B. Tanghe re-reads (2016) Johan Huizinga’s Homo Ludens (1938) as a case study in the long-running “existential crisis” of the humanities. He (etal)  sees the crisis as not primarily about falling student numbers; rather, Tanghe argues it is a confidence and status crisis—humanists doubt their mission and feel the intellectual “action” has moved to science. 

Tanghe’s framing of the “crisis”

He outlines three typical responses humanists have adopted:

1. Reject science’s relevance or moral credibility (a “science wars” posture).
2. Reassert traditional humanities vocations (ethical, political, spiritual, aesthetic, civic).
3. Pursue consilience with science, either strong (full integration) or soft (selective borrowing).
   Tanghe endorses soft consilience as both feasible and historically grounded. 

Why Homo Ludens matters here

Tanghe treats Homo Ludens as:

• A humanist masterpiece: extraordinarily erudite, cross-cultural, stylistically compelling, and morally resonant. 
• But explanatorily weak: once read as a theory about why play matters for culture, it fails to convince modern critical readers. The brilliance-without-explanatory-content combination is what makes it symptomatic of the humanities’ malaise. 

Huizinga’s thesis (as Tanghe summarizes)

Huizinga claims:

• Play is older than culture, and culture arises and unfolds “in and as play.”
• As cultures mature, playfulness declines; modernity shows “false play” and “puerilism.” 

Tanghe’s central methodological critique

Huizinga deliberately excludes biological and psychological approaches, defining play as a “mind phenomenon” and therefore a humanities-only topic. Tanghe says this rests on a strict nature/culture split and becomes circular:

1. Define play as non-biological.
2. Claim only humanities can study it.
3. Use that claim to justify the definition. 

Three explanatory flaws Tanghe finds in Homo Ludens

1. A “ludicrous” contradiction
   If play generates culture early on but disappears as culture matures, Huizinga needs the ad hoc idea of “false play” to explain modernity. Tanghe finds that move conceptually unstable. 
2. A hidden truism about “culture”
   Huizinga treats “culture” as mostly high, aesthetic, ritualized culture (myth, poetry, art, aristocratic contest), so it is unsurprising that play looks foundational. Tanghe argues the thesis works largely because culture has been pre-narrowed to play-like domains. 
3. Agonistic (contest) bias
   Huizinga makes agon (contest) the central form of play and leans heavily on Greek aristocratic competition as cultural paradigm. Tanghe, citing Sutton-Smith and others, calls this a restrictive and masculinist narrowing of play’s variety. 

What biology adds (Tanghe’s “soft consilience” remedy)

Tanghe argues that a credible account of play and culture must start from the biology and evolution of play. Biology shows:

• Play is widespread in animals and humans, so its roots are adaptive and embodied, not just symbolic. 
• Social play often aims to keep play going, not to win; agon is one subset, not the essence. 
• Evolutionary ideas like neoteny and human cognitive “fluidity” help explain why play remains central across life and cultures, countering Huizinga’s declinism. 

Bottom line

Homo Ludens remains a great humanist work, but its explanatory claims are undermined by Huizinga’s anti-scientific “fortress” stance, his declinist mood, his high-culture focus, and his agonal fixation. Tanghe concludes that humanities should preserve interpretive richness while adopting epistemic soft consilience with science whenever they make claims about human nature and culture’s origins. 

Citations:-

Huizinga — original Dutch edition (1938)
Huizinga, J. (1938). Homo ludens: Proeve eener bepaling van het spel-element der cultuur. Groningen, Netherlands: Tjeenk Willink / Wolters-Noordhoff. 

Huizinga — widely used English edition
Huizinga, J. (1949). Homo ludens: A study of the play-element in culture (R. F. C. Hull, Trans.). London, England: Routledge & Kegan Paul. (Original work published 1938) 

Tanghe — article

Tanghe, K. B. (2016). Homo Ludens (1938) and the crisis in the humanities. Cogent Arts & Humanities, 3(1). https://doi.org/10.1080/23311983.2016.1245087

 

My interpretation of terms used or averred 

Agon / agonistic play
Play centered on contest, rivalry, winners and losers (e.g., competitive games). Huizinga treats this as the main form of play; Tanghe says that’s too narrow. 

Anathema
Something strongly disliked or rejected. Tanghe says consilience was “anathema” to Huizinga. 

Anti-positivism
A stance against the idea that only scientific/empirical methods give real knowledge. Huizinga’s humanities lean anti-positivist. 

Arch-humanist
A very thorough or “paradigmatic” humanist—someone who strongly defends humanities’ autonomy from science. Used for Huizinga. 

Biology of play
Scientific study of play as an evolved, adaptive behavior found in animals and humans. Tanghe says this is foundational for any credible theory. 

Consilience (strong vs. soft)
“Jumping together” of knowledge across disciplines.

• Strong consilience = full integration of humanities into scientific frameworks.
• Soft consilience = humanities borrow and align with science where needed, without losing interpretive aims. 

Cultural maturity / declinism
The idea that cultures pass from youthful, playful beginnings to rigid, less playful “adult” phases; in Huizinga, modernity represents decline. 

Diachronic
Across time; historically developing. Tanghe says a scientific account might study play–culture relations diachronically. 

Ethology / ethological aims
Ethology = scientific study of animal behavior. Tinbergen proposed four aims (causation, development, function, evolution); Burghardt adds a fifth (private experience). 

Existential crisis (of the humanities)
A crisis of purpose and self-confidence: humanists feel their relevance and status have weakened in science-dominated universities. Not mainly a numbers / enrolment problem. 

False play
Huizinga’s term for modern “play” that is over-organized, professionalized, or mixed with serious power games; Tanghe thinks it’s an ad hoc patch. 

Geisteswissenschaften / geesteswetenschappen
German/Dutch for “human sciences” or humanities—disciplines studying meaning, mind, and culture (history, philology, philosophy). Geisteswissenschaften (German) and geesteswetenschappen (Dutch) both literally translate to "sciences of the mind" or "spirit sciences" and are generally understood in English as the humanities or liberal arts. Huizinga says play belongs here. 

High culture
Elite cultural forms (art, poetry, ritual, philosophy). Tanghe says Huizinga over-identifies culture with these, biasing his thesis. 

Idiographic vs. nomothetic
Two styles of inquiry:

• Idiographic = focuses on unique, particular cases (typical ideal of humanities/history).
• Nomothetic = seeks general laws (typical ideal of natural sciences). 

Liminality
A threshold / in-between state in cultural life. Mentioned via Thomassen in relation to modernity and play. 

Machismo view of play history
A critique (from Sutton-Smith) that Huizinga frames play mainly as masculine contest and combat. 

Neoteny (juvenilisation)
Evolutionary retention of youthful traits into adulthood. Tanghe uses it to explain humans’ lifelong playfulness. 

Organic metaphor (culture as organism)
Huizinga likens culture to a living being that grows, matures, and loses youthful playfulness. 

Puerilism
Huizinga’s term for a toxic modern blend of adolescence + barbarism: childish mass behaviour, trivial sensationalism, and “play” intruding into serious domains. 

Raison d’être
French: “reason for being.” Used for the humanities’ mission/purpose. 

Romantic pessimism / nostalgia
Huizinga’s mood of mourning a lost golden past; Tanghe sees this as driving the decline narrative. 

Science wars
Late-20th-century conflicts over whether scientific methods should dominate understanding of humans and culture. Tanghe places some humanists here. 

Self-handicapping
In social play (animal or human), stronger players restrain themselves so play can continue; shows play is often about relationship, not victory. 

Studia humanitatis
Renaissance term for humanist studies (grammar, rhetoric, history, poetry, moral philosophy). Tanghe uses it to name the humanities tradition. 

Two cultures
C. P. Snow’s idea that humanities and sciences form separate intellectual cultures with mutual misunderstanding. A background frame for Tanghe’s argument. 

Verstehen / Erklären 

Verstehen seeks an interpretive, subjective understanding of social actions from the actor's point of view, while "explanation" Erklären aims for an objective, causal account based on general laws.

Urphänomen
Goethe’s term for a primary, irreducible phenomenon. Gombrich says Huizinga treated play this way to shield it from scientific analysis. 

The Echo in My Head Wasn’t Just Mine

 Dedicated to my co-travellers past, present and future

I sat down to think, quite proud of my mind,
Ideas were swirling, uniquely refined.
A vision! A flash! A spark in the gloom—
Till doubt tiptoed in and re-entered the room.

"Will it work?" I asked, chewing my pen,
"It's brilliant… or rubbish? Maybe again?"
I pondered, I paced, then peeked through the glass—
Were others stuck too in this question-mark class?

A colleague nearby was mumbling a rhyme,
Another was doodling, wasting good time.
Yet all of us sensed, like a brainwave ballet,
That something was forming beyond just "okay."

"Do they see what I see? Or see that I’m mad?"
"Is their silence support? Or do they think I’m a cad?"
"That idea of mine—did it land or just flop?"
"Should I press on with passion or bring it to a stop?"

But then came a chuckle, a nod, a loud "Wait!"
A merging of minds that recalibrates fate.
My half-baked metaphor met their sly twist,
And together we conjured a storm from the mist.

Their doubts danced with mine in a curious jig,
My tiny seed bloomed into something quite big.
Where once were lone thoughts in cerebral repose,
Now ideas linked arms like some well-written prose.

So I laugh at the myth of the lone genius myth,
That solitary lightning bolt struck by a “smith.”
Turns out that innovation’s a bit of a stew,
Made of "me" and of "you" and our shared point of view.

And feelings, oh feelings, those squishy old things,
Insecure trembles with hopeful heartstrings—
They mixed and they muddled till suddenly clear:
We’re braver together when thinking is near.

So here's to the magic of collective confusion,
The chorus of minds in a maelstrom collusion.
If I ever again feel too proud or too clever,
I’ll remember it’s we who make brilliance together.

Why Leaders Derail - Shadows of Success in a Changing World

 

The Paradox of Downfall

The downfall of leaders exerts a strange fascination. In every civilisation, stories are told not only of great leaders who built institutions or nations but also of how those same figures stumbled dramatically. The Athenians gathered to watch Oedipus and Agamemnon undone by fate; Elizabethans thrilled at Lear or Macbeth. In our age the theatre is different — not chorus and stage but press conferences, boardrooms, and social media storms — yet the drama is familiar. A leader rises, triumphs, and then falls, sometimes swiftly, sometimes through a slow erosion of credibility. Leaders rarely derail because they are mediocre. They derail because their very strengths become their undoing. Courage turns into recklessness, confidence into arrogance, vision into delusion. Aristotle described this as the excess of virtue; Shakespeare called it tragic flaw. In the twenty-first century, investor impatience, digital transparency, and relentless scrutiny accelerate the cycle of rise and fall. Derailment is not aberration but systemic risk. To understand leadership fully, we must study not only success but derailment — the shadow that follows achievement.

I. The Spectacle of Derailment: Recent Cases, Ancient Echoes

Contemporary business and politics abound with derailments. Carlos Ghosn, celebrated as Nissan’s saviour, was arrested in 2018 on charges of misconduct, his daring escape from Japan adding operatic flair to his downfall. Adam Neumann built WeWork into a global phenomenon, but erratic behaviour and governance lapses destroyed billions in value. Chanda Kochhar of ICICI Bank resigned amid conflict-of-interest allegations; Vishal Sikka of Infosys left after cultural clashes with founders; Byju Raveendran’s edtech empire unravelled under debt and mistrust. McKinsey (2022) found over half of CEO departures globally were unplanned, many forced by boards. PwC reported misconduct-related exits had nearly doubled in two decades. 

Political life mirrors this. Nixon, undone by Watergate; Berlusconi, consumed by scandal; Boris Johnson, felled by loss of party trust. The arc is ancient: hubris, blindness, retribution. Sophocles dramatised it, Shakespeare refined it, and modern headlines replay it. Derailment is not anomaly; it is archetype.

II. Literature on Derailment

Scholars have studied derailment through multiple lenses. The Center for Creative Leadership (CCL) pioneered systematic research. Lombardo & McCauley, and later Lombardo & Eichinger, showed derailers were not incompetence but strengths overplayed: ambition into self-serving behaviour, confidence into arrogance, detail into micromanagement. Their influential 'FYI: For Your Improvement' catalogued derailers and prescribed developmental assignments. Lombardo & Eichinger also advanced 'learning agility' — the capacity to learn from experience — as critical to avoiding derailment. Leaders high in learning agility recover from mistakes; those low repeat them.

Psychodynamic thinkers like Manfred Kets de Vries emphasised the unconscious. Leaders act out inner theatres shaped by childhood. Narcissists crave admiration and collapse without it. Perfectionists strangle teams with control. Paranoids alienate allies with suspicion. Clinical categories sharpen the view: narcissists brittle, sociopaths manipulative, psychopaths cold. Jung’s notion of the shadow applies: traits repressed resurface destructively. Freud’s repetition compulsion explains why leaders recreate old patterns until crisis forces rupture.

Developmental theorists reframed derailment as plateau in growth. Robert Kegan mapped adult meaning-making: socialised minds dependent on approval; self-authoring minds guided by internal compass; self-transforming minds integrating paradox. Nick Petrie distinguished horizontal growth (skills) from vertical growth (operating system). Leaders often collect horizontal tools but fail to grow vertically. Complexity outpaces capacity, and derailment follows. Wittgenstein’s dictum — 'the limits of my language mean the limits of my world' — captures the trap.

Elliott Jaques highlighted 'time-span of discretion': derailment occurs when cognitive horizon mismatches role complexity. Gillian Stamp extended this through her Matrix of Working Relationships and Tripod of Leadership. Leaders fail when they cannot shift relational stance — directive, consultative, systemic — as context demands. Derailment is often relational illiteracy as much as cognitive lag.

Barbara Kellerman identified seven bad leadership types: incompetent, rigid, intemperate, callous, corrupt, insular, evil. Each represents a derailment path where leaders actively harm. Herminia Ibarra showed identity rigidity as risk: leaders clinging to outdated selves — entrepreneur, rescuer, insider — derail when context demands reinvention. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s flow theory adds nuance: derailment occurs when challenge overwhelms or bores capacity, driving anxiety or disengagement.

Nitin Nohria & Anthony Mayo emphasised historical context. Leaders succeed or fail depending on alignment with their 'era.' Ram Charan’s Leadership Pipeline describes derailment at career passages: from managing self to managing others, to managing enterprises. Sumantra Ghoshal stressed context and purpose: leaders who create toxic climates derail themselves and others. Together, these literatures show derailment is multi-causal: psychological, developmental, relational, systemic.

III. The Anatomy of Derailment

Five themes explain derailment. First, strengths overused. Virtue untempered becomes vice. Courage into recklessness, vision into delusion. Kalanick’s aggression built Uber and destroyed trust. Welch’s efficiency at GE sowed fragility. Aristotle and Shakespeare anticipated this: excess breeds downfall.

Second, failures of vertical growth. Leaders accumulate tools but resist transforming meaning-making. They plateau at self-authoring minds, unable to embrace paradox. Complexity outruns cognition. Icarus soars on the same waxen wings until they melt. Leaders fall when their interpretive grammar no longer maps reality.

Third, relational breakdowns. Leadership is trust. Boards, teams, stakeholders sustain leaders until confidence erodes. Vishal Sikka’s exit from Infosys reflected cultural dissonance more than competence. Boeing’s 737 MAX crisis deepened when regulators and engineers lost faith in executives. Gillian Stamp shows derailment often follows failure to shift relational mode: from authoritative to consultative, from transactional to systemic.

Fourth, psychological vulnerabilities. Under stress the inner theatre erupts. Narcissists lash out, sociopaths exploit, psychopaths corrode. Elizabeth Holmes embodied narcissistic fragility; Adam Neumann manic charisma; Carlos Ghosn paranoid control. Freud’s repressed returns, Jung’s shadow erupts. Leaders fall from what they deny.

Finally, systemic misfits. Organisations design derailment by poor governance, misaligned culture, collusive boards. Chanda Kochhar’s case exposed governance gaps. Infosys’ founder conflicts revealed cultural fissures. Jaques and Stamp remind us: derailment is often institutional as much as individual.

IV. Implications for Leadership Development

How can derailment be mitigated? First, early identification. Hogan Development Survey predicts derailers. Lombardo & Eichinger’s learning agility highlights who adapts and who repeats errors. 360-degree feedback surfaces blind spots before they metastasise.

Second, developmental ecosystems. Petrie prescribes heat experiences, colliding perspectives, deliberate reflection. Stamp’s tripod insists on balancing task, people, and systemic exposure. Leadership development must move beyond classrooms to crucibles that stretch identity.

Third, governance stewardship. Plato’s ship of state metaphor reminds us leaders need ballast. Boards must balance vision with restraint, guard against hubris, and anchor ethics. Madison’s checks and balances apply in corporations as in states. Boards that collude accelerate downfall.

Fourth, recovery and renewal. Derailment is not always terminal. Steve Jobs, ousted from Apple, returned transformed. Howard Schultz re-entered Starbucks stronger. Nandan Nilekani re-anchored Infosys. Eastern wisdom underscores renewal: Kabir likened life to a millstone grinding ego; the Gita teaches detachment from outcomes. Derailment can be crucible as much as catastrophe.

V. Closing Reflections: The Universal Drama

Derailment is archetype, not anomaly. Nietzsche warned of overreach, Kierkegaard of dread, Wittgenstein of limits. Indian sages counsel humility and detachment. Leaders derail not from mediocrity but humanity: ambition, vulnerability, bounded growth. Success magnifies both light and shadow. The task of leadership development is not flawless leaders — impossible — but systems where shadows are acknowledged, strengths tempered, growth sustained. Derailment teaches. It signals where growth stalls, where humility is absent, where renewal is required. To anticipate and learn from derailment is the deepest challenge of leadership in our turbulent age.

Greedom - -The Fine Line Between Self-Determination and Self-Indulgence

 Greedom – that sneaky love-child of greed and freedom – is the unofficial creed of our age. It promises the enterprising individual an intoxicating mix of liberty and luxury, as if the two were inseparable. In the gospel of Greedom, greed is rebranded as a virtue: an ambitious hunger that’s not sin, but self-determination. We exalt the go-getter who “takes what’s theirs”, clapping them on the back for their initiative – even as they quietly pocket more than their fair share. After all, why settle for mere freedom when you can have Freedom™ with benefits? Greedom winks and assures us: you can have it all and call it principle. It’s a mischievous notion, really, and it’s running rampant in the modern world.

It often starts innocently enough – with ambition. Picture a bright-eyed striver, the kind who devoured rags-to-riches stories as a kid and truly believes in the purity of self-made success. They want freedom in the noble sense: freedom from want, freedom to chart their own course, freedom to be their own boss. They hustle at their startup or side-gig, dreaming of changing the world (or at least their tax bracket). This is self-determination at its best – the scrappy entrepreneur or worker who puts in the hours to pull themselves up by their bootstraps. In theory, it’s a beautiful thing. Who could fault someone for wanting to improve their lot and live free of limitations? Greedom stokes this fire, whispering “go on, you deserve more” – and at first it feels empowering, even righteous.

But watch closely: that pure flame of ambition can morph into a wildfire of avarice before you know it. Under the neon glow of consumer capitalism, our aspiring hero is bombarded with a million ways to spend and justify it. The market tees up freedom as a product on every shelf. “Express yourself (by buying our ultra-HD smart TV)!” “Choose any flavour of lifestyle you want (we have 87 brands of cereal)!” “take a break in Chechia, Galapagos, Fujiyama or Vietnam every few months! In the land of consumer plenty, choice masquerades as liberty. We’re told that buying more is the path to freedom – or at least to happiness – and we half believe it. Our ambitious individual, flush with a bit of success, starts equating spending power with personal power. After all, nothing says “I’m free” like the freedom to splurge on the latest gadget upgrade each year, right? It’s self-determination via shopping cart: a few clicks on next-day delivery to soothe the soul. Greedom chuckles here, slyly encouraging a little indulgence. Why not? They earned it! Thus begins the slippery slope: ambition feeding consumption, which in turn feeds a desire for even more.

Soon, the line between needs and wants blurs, and our go-getter finds themselves running faster on the capitalist hamster wheel. Enter the hustle culture – the shrine at which Greedom’s disciples worship. Here, burnout is a badge of honour and “busyness” becomes a lifestyle. Productivity gurus and startup CEOs preach the new Ten Commandments: Thou shalt rise and grind. Thou shalt sleep when you’re dead. Elon Musk himself ( famously and perhaps apocryphally ?) advised that “nobody ever changed the world on 40 hours a week”, suggesting that true success demands 80, 90, even 100-hour workweeks. In the cult of the startup, overwork is sanctified. Our once-idealistic individual now wears dark circles under their eyes as proudly as a priest wears vestments. Self-determination warps into self-exploitation – but it’s all for the dream, they insist. I’m doing this to be free. Free in the future, that is, if they ever get there without collapsing. Greedom smirks in the corner, offering a caffeinated toast to their efforts.

This hustle-hard ethos isn’t confined to would-be billionaires in Silicon Valley garages; it’s spread to every corner of the gig economy. The modern labour market often sells “flexibility” and “being your own boss” as freedom’s new frontier. Drive when you want, work in your PJs, be the captain of your Uber – what could be more liberating? But Greedom’s freedom is a funny thing. For many gig workers, that celebrated freedom often means freedom from stability, benefits, or a liveable wage. It’s a deal with the devil: no bosses, but also no safety nets. In truth, this system simply shifts risk and cost from companies onto individuals under the illusion of personal liberty. The result? A delivery driver or freelancer “free” to work 2 a.m. shifts, “free” to hustle every waking hour, and “free” to wonder if they’ll make rent this month. Greedom shrugs – the house always wins, and in this case the house is the platform or corporation that gets rich while individuals chase pennies in the name of autonomy. The commodification of personal liberty has turned freedom into something you buy: pay for your own health insurance, your own retirement plan, your own everything – congratulations, you’re free from the old 9-to-5, and free to fend for yourself.

If a few do manage to climb the gilded ladder of success, Greedom shifts the goalposts again. Wealth accumulates, and with it comes rationalisation. Ambition fulfilled can become a dragon’s hoard – yet our protagonist will insist it’s still about freedom. Now it’s “financial freedom,” a favourite term that cloaks hoarding as prudence. They’ll say: I’ve earned the freedom to never worry again. But one person’s financial freedom can mean 10,000 other people’s financial trap. Consider that the richest 1% of the world’s population now own roughly 43% of all global assets. In Greedom’s calculus, inequality isn’t a bug – it’s a feature, the natural outcome of some people’s superior drive. Our now-wealthy achiever might genuinely believe they deserve their giant slice of the pie because they worked so hard for it. Did they really need that much? In the fog of Greedom, the question rarely gets asked. The line between enough and too much disappears behind self-justification. After all, self-indulgence feels different when you call it “success”.

Look at the tech billionaires, the new royalty of our era, for the most extravagantly satirical illustration of Greedom. These folks have ridden ambition straight into the stratosphere – literally. Armed with obscene wealth and extreme self-belief, they dream up space fantasies while the rest of us deal with down-to-earth problems. Why settle for a mansion by the sea when you can have a private space station? One day it’s garage coding, the next it’s Mars or bust. They tout these extraterrestrial ambitions as humanity’s next chapter, but one can’t help noticing it looks a lot like escapism for the ultra-rich. (The Earth is getting a bit messy with pesky things like climate change and wealth taxes, so why not plan a getaway beyond the atmosphere?) Jeff Bezos – who at one point was the world’s richest man – took a brief joyride to the edge of space and upon landing thanked the people who really made it possible: “I want to thank every Amazon employee and every Amazon customer, because you guys paid for all of this,” he said. It was a rare moment of blunt honesty in the theatre of capitalism. Here was Greedom in plain words – the freedom of a billionaire literally financed by the labours and loyalty of others. His workers toiled in warehouses timed by the second, his customers clicked “Buy Now” on cheap deals, and the reward for all that collective effort? A ten-minute rocket ride for one man. (He did offer his sincere thanks, if that counts.) Critics quipped that at least someone got a vacation out of all those unmet bathroom breaks and Prime membership fees.

Meanwhile, down here on Earth, wealth inequality widens into a chasm. The space barons and crypto kings promise that their audacious ventures will benefit all of humanity someday – colonizing Mars is apparently going to inspire the masses, and trickle-down technology will solve our problems – but forgive the sceptics for rolling their eyes. In practice, Greedom protects its own freedom first and foremost. The billionaire class gains literal freedom of movement (why be bound by gravity or national borders when you have your own rockets and superyachts?), as well as freedom from consequence. They can pollute and evade taxes under the banner of innovation and enterprise. They champion “free markets” and “freedom from regulation”, which often translates to freedom to do as they please while others clean up the mess. All the while, they remain curiously free from the everyday worries that plague ordinary people – like choosing between medicine or rent – because hey, they’ve got that covered. Greedom is a one-way street: limitless upside for those at the top, and “personal responsibility” for everyone else. As a dark punchline, the world even saw billionaire wealth surge by $2 trillion in a single year during a global crisis, while many struggled to stay afloat. It’s as if Greedom thrives on the credo that “greed will set you free”, at least if you’re rich enough.

Yet the rhetoric around all this remains as slick as ever. Political discourse in many countries has taken up a mantra of “freedom” that conveniently aligns with Greedom’s interests. We hear leaders wax poetic about freedom – freedom to choose, freedom from government interference, freedom this, freedom that. But too often this translates to deregulation and laissez-faire economics that give corporations and the wealthy free rein, while working folks find their own freedoms shrinking. (It’s hard to feel free when you’re juggling three gig jobs with no healthcare, or when you can’t afford to exercise your “freedom of choice” because all the choices are out of budget.) In the grand carnival of modern politics, freedom is the balloon animal twisted into whatever shape sells. Want to block a law that protects workers or the environment? Just call it an attack on “freedom” – the freedom of the market, the freedom of the job creators. It’s a cynical sleight-of-hand: self-indulgence at societal scale cloaked in the language of liberty. Greedom stands on the podium, hand over heart, proclaiming “Let freedom ring!” – but quietly thinking about how much money that ringing cash register is making.

In this sly, poetic farce we call contemporary life, Greedom walks a tightrope between inspiring and insidious. On one side is self-determination – the very real and beautiful freedom to pursue your dreams, to innovate, to prosper from your own efforts. On the other side is self-indulgence – the point at which success loses its compass and becomes an end in itself, demanding ever more at any cost. The line is thin and constantly shifting. An ambitious person might cross it without even noticing, cheered on by a society that equates net worth with moral worth. As we’ve seen, today’s world provides plenty of slippery footing: a backdrop of consumer excess, yawning wealth gaps, idolized billionaires, hustle propaganda, and liberty sold by the gig. It’s all too easy to start chasing a noble vision of freedom and end up mired in greed.

So here we are, living in the age of Greedom. It’s funny, it’s tragic, and it’s absurd all at once. We celebrate freedom with patriotic fervour, while quietly accepting that a CEO can earn in a day what a worker makes in a year (or in some cases, what a worker makes in centuries – at top companies the average CEO now makes about 285 times the salary of their typical employee, meaning the median worker would have had to start working in CE 1740 to catch up to one CEO’s annual pay). We chase the promise that anyone can make it if they try hard enough, even as wealth solidifies at the top and social mobility stalls. We’re told to keep consuming, keep hustling, keep believing – because that’s freedom. And hey, for a lucky few, it really is. They’ll ride the rocket of success straight into the stars, fuelled by a combustible mix of ambition and avarice.

For the rest of us, perhaps the task is simply to laugh (so we don’t cry) and to recognise Greedom for what it is. It’s a satirical mirror held up to our society’s face, reflecting how easily lofty ideals can be twisted by good old-fashioned greed. It urges us to ask: Where’s the line? How much is enough? And what happens to our humanity when freedom becomes just another word for “everyone for themselves”? These are serious questions – but this is a humorous elegy, after all. So we’ll end on a cheeky note: Greedom may let you reach for the stars, but don’t be surprised if, in the end, you’re left holding moon dust – and an invoice for the trip.

Bali Pratipada—Textual Archaeology, Traditional Significance, and the Subaltern Critique

 I. Introduction: Contextualizing Bali Pratipada in the Hindu Calendar

A. Definition and Nomenclature: The Festival of Return

Bali Pratipada is a prominent Hindu festival celebrated on the first day of the Shukla Paksha (bright fortnight) in the lunar month of Kartik.¹ This annual placement typically ensures that the festival falls on the fourth day of the widespread Diwali celebrations, often coinciding with Govardhan Puja.¹ The term Pratipada itself implies "below the opponent's foot," a direct reference to the central event of the associated mythology.¹

The festival is known by a variety of regional names that highlight its cultural integration across the subcontinent. These names include Bali Padyami (in Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh), Bali Padva (in Maharashtra and Goa), Vira Pratipada, Dyuta Pratipada ¹, and Barlaj (in Himachal Pradesh).² Crucially, in Gujarat and Rajasthan, the day is recognized as the regional traditional New Year Day in the Vikram Samvat calendar, known as Bestu Varas or Varsha Pratipada.²

The core commemoration is the notional return of the virtuous daitya (demon) King Bali, also known as Mahabali, from the netherworld (Sutala) back to Earth for a single day.¹ This annual visit was granted as a boon by Bhagwan Vishnu, who had appeared in the Vamana (dwarf) avatar to subdue Bali and restore cosmic order.¹

B. Scope and Purpose of the Analysis

This report undertakes a comprehensive analysis of Bali Pratipada, moving beyond its function as a celebratory occasion. The objective is to conduct a tripartite examination that includes: tracing the textual-historical evolution of the core myth in ancient Hindu scriptures; detailing its contemporary pan-Indian rituals and devotional significance; and performing a critical sociological deconstruction to understand how the narrative has been radically reinterpreted through the lens of identity politics and the subaltern question regarding caste and power dynamics.⁶

II. The Textual Archaeology of the Vamana-Mahabali Myth

This section establishes the textual authority and evolution of the myth, tracking its journey from abstract Vedic concepts to the formalized Puranic narrative celebrated today.

A. Vedic and Brahmana Antecedents: The Trivikrama Strides

The fundamental concepts underpinning the Vamana avatar are traceable to the earliest layers of Hindu scripture. The RigVeda (e.g., 1.22, 1.154) already celebrates Vishnu for his "Three Strides" (Trivikrama), which encompass the entire cosmos, symbolizing his universal sovereignty long before a specific avatar narrative was established.⁸

The myth evolved considerably in the Brahmana period, texts focused on explaining ritual practice. The Shatapatha Brahmana formalizes the dwarf motif, setting the stage for the Vamana narrative.⁹ In this older account, the Asuras claim the world, and the Gods (Devas) call upon Vamana to reclaim it. However, the Shatapatha Brahmana describes Vamana gaining the earth not by footsteps, but by acquiring as much land as he could "lie upon as a sacrifice," linking the event directly to the efficacy of the sacrificial fire (yajna).⁹Crucially, this Brahmana account does not yet personalize the Asura opponent as Mahabali.⁹

The chronological layering of these texts demonstrates a clear developmental progression. The shift from the RigVeda's abstract, cosmic metaphor of the three strides to the Shatapatha Brahmana's focus on gaining land for a ritual altar shows that the narrative developed in parallel with the elaboration of Vedic sacrifice. The later Puranic story is an amalgamation, merging the cosmic Trivikrama concept with this sacrificial context, thereby providing a narrative explanation for divine intervention intended to restore cosmic balance (dharma).¹⁰

B. The Puranic Synthesis: Vamana and the Virtuous Daitya

The definitive, detailed account of the Vamana-Mahabali interaction is found primarily in the Srimad Bhagavata Purana (Skandha 8), which establishes Vamana as the fifth avatar of Vishnu, born to Aditi and Kashyapa.¹³

King Mahabali, a daitya and the grandson of the great Vishnu devotee Prahlada, is consistently depicted as powerful, generous, and highly virtuous.¹ His flaw, however, was ahankara (pride) and an overreach of power that led him to conquer Svarga (heaven), thereby disturbing the established cosmic hierarchy.¹⁴ To resolve this imbalance, Vishnu appeared as Vamana, the dwarf Brahmin, and asked Bali for three steps of land.¹⁴Despite explicit warnings from his preceptor Shukra, Bali, bound by his own generosity, agreed.⁸ Vamana then transformed into the cosmic giant Trivikrama, covering Earth and Heaven in two steps, leaving Bali to offer his head for the third step.⁴

Bali's willing surrender of his head is viewed theologically as the ultimate act of devotion.¹⁷ Because Bali was a pious devotee (a lineage traced back to Prahlada) ¹⁵, his subjugation was not an act of annihilation but a redemptive act of grace (moksha). Vishnu was pleased by his humility, granted him immortality (Chiranjivi), and designated him the sovereign ruler of the beautiful subterranean world of Sutala, promising to be his eternal guardian.² Furthermore, Vishnu blessed Bali with the specific boon of returning to Earth annually to accept worship from his devotees, an act that sanctifies the festival of Bali Pratipada.² This narrative structure underscores the Puranic assertion that spiritual greatness lies in actions and devotion, transcending even the daitya lineage.¹⁷

The worship mandate is affirmed in texts like the Bhavisyottara Purana, which specifically instructs devotees to consecrate and worship an image of King Bali, often made of rice grains, inside their homes on the Kartika Pratipada lunar day, confirming the festival’s ancient scriptural recognition.¹⁹

The evolution of the narrative across key texts is summarized below:

Table 1: Textual Evolution of the Vamana-Mahabali Myth

Textual Source	Period/Type	Core Narrative Element	Mahabali's Role
RigVeda (e.g., 1.22, 1.154)	Vedic (c. 1500–1200 BCE)	Vishnu's Three Strides (Trivikrama) across the cosmos, symbolic of universal reach.	Not mentioned.
Shatapatha Brahmana	Brahmana/Late Vedic (c. 700 BCE)	Vamana (dwarf) gains the Earth from Asuras through ritual sacrifice; linking the myth to yajna.	Mentioned only as a general Asura party; not personalized as Mahabali.
Srimad Bhagavata Purana(Skandha 8)	Puranic (Post-Classical Era)	Vamana requests three steps from Bali, who is humbled and exiled to Sutala, receiving the boon of annual return and becoming a Chiranjivi.	Central figure; virtuous Daitya devotee whose surrender earns salvation.
Bhavisyottara Purana	Puranic	Stipulates the ritual consecration and worship of King Bali's image on Kartika Pratipada.	Focus on his veneration as the subject of the festival.

III. Bali Pratipada: Observance, Rituals, and Pan-Indian Significance

Bali Pratipada is celebrated as a multi-layered festival across India, blending devotional worship of King Bali and Vishnu with strong socio-economic and agrarian themes, reflecting a significant degree of regional heterogeneity.

A. Central Theological and Economic Significance

The day is fundamentally a celebration of renewed prosperity and the restoration of a virtuous reign, symbolized by the return of Bali Chakravarty.¹ This mythological theme is integrated directly into the Hindu calendar: Bali Pratipada is considered one of the half-day Muhūrtas (supremely auspicious timings) of the year.² Consequently, the day is highly regarded as auspicious for inaugurating new endeavors, launching businesses, making investments, and arranging marriages or property purchases, as new initiatives begun on this day are believed to be prosperous and successful.¹

Rituals emphasize purification and domestic sanctity. Devotees undertake Abhyangasnan, an early morning bath involving an oil massage, as a compulsory rite of renewal.¹ A central domestic custom involves drawing an image of King Bali, often with his wife Vindhyavali, at the center of the house floor using colorful powders, powdered rice, or cow dung.¹ Offerings (Naivaidya) are performed to satisfy the hunger and thirst of the returning Bali.¹

B. Regional Manifestations and Heterogeneity

The underlying myth of Bali's prosperity provides a flexible framework, adapting to suit diverse local needs, economies, and social structures.

In Maharashtra and Gujarat, the festival, known as Bali Padva, is closely linked to marital fidelity and domestic harmony.³ Wives perform aarti for their husbands, apply tilak, and pray for their longevity, while husbands reciprocate with gifts, reinforcing their relational bond.³ This tradition subtly shifts the mythological theme of Bali’s generous gift-giving into a reciprocal domestic rite.¹ Simultaneously, in Gujarat and parts of Rajasthan, the day operates as Bestu Varas, the traditional New Year Day in the Vikram Samvat, highlighting its role as a period for financial and social resetting.²

In South Indian states, such as Karnataka and Tamil Nadu, the observance is deeply agrarian, timed to coincide with the post-monsoon harvest.² Farmers celebrate Bali Padyami by performing rituals centered on agricultural productivity and fertility. These include Gopuja (worship of the cow), Kedaragauri vratam, and Gouramma puja (worship of Goddess Parvati and her forms).² The cowshed (goushala) is ceremoniously cleaned, and a triangular image of Bali made from cow dung is decorated with Kolam and worshipped, directly integrating the myth of the prosperous king with harvest rites.²

Even in the Himalayan regions like Himachal Pradesh, where it is known as Barlaj (a corruption of "Bali Raj"), the festival maintains a dual focus on Vishnu and Bali.² Here, the observance extends to honoring tools: farmers abstain from using the plough, and artisans worship their implements in deference to Vishvakarma.²

The varying emphasis across regions (marital bonds, financial renewal, harvest worship, tool veneration) confirms that the core narrative of Bali’s virtuous reign and return provides a consistent theme of renewal and success. The festival's placement in the Kartik month, immediately following the agricultural season, naturally integrates the mythological prosperity theme into the cycles of both economic and agricultural life.²

IV. Philosophical and Ethical Dimensions of the Surrender

The Puranic narrative of Vamana and Bali is not simply a tale of mythological warfare; it is a profound ethical dialogue concerning the proper role of power, the necessity of humility, and the supreme path to spiritual liberation.

A. The Doctrine of Divine Humbling (Leela)

Vamana’s decision to appear as a diminutive, humble Brahmin symbolizes divine humility and the idea that righteousness and wisdom hold ultimate power, surpassing material strength or military might.¹⁰ The purpose of Vamana’s Lila (divine play) was defined as restoring cosmic order (dharma), not merely vanquishing a wicked foe. Vamana’s strategic intervention is viewed as a demonstration of Vishnu's commitment to maintaining universal balance.¹⁰

Bali’s downfall stemmed not from malice but from his ahankara (ego), which led to his overreach.³ The symbolic act of Vamana covering the universe and placing the final step on Bali’s head is interpreted as an act of divine grace designed to crush the ego, not the individual devotee.¹¹ The narrative establishes a concept known as the paradox of devotional defeat: Bali, though materially defeated and exiled, achieves an unparalleled spiritual victory.²

The theological implication is that Vishnu used deception to test and ultimately elevate Bali.¹⁴ By forcing the King to give up all worldly possessions, power, and pride, Vamana facilitated Bali’s attainment of moksha(liberation) through complete self-surrender (sharanagati).¹¹ This illustrates that true spiritual fulfillment lies in non-attachment and devotion, rendering material loss spiritually insignificant.¹⁸

B. Ethics of Contentment and Generosity

Vamana’s philosophical exchange with Bali emphasizes the doctrine that eternal contentment is the path to liberation, while unquenchable desire leads to perpetual suffering. Vamana points out that a dissatisfied individual who craves more than three steps of land will never be satisfied, even if granted all three worlds.²¹

The story also champions the virtues of generosity and loyalty. Bali’s willingness to surrender his head after losing Earth and Heaven is celebrated as the peak of integrity and adherence to his promise.¹⁴ This act teaches that true leadership is defined by selflessness and loyalty to divine principles, even when facing severe personal consequence.³

V. Critical Reinterpretation: Mahabali and the Subaltern Question

The explicit reference to critical social analysis necessitates an examination of the socio-political reinterpretation of the Vamana-Mahabali myth, particularly its localization in Kerala and its adoption by identity movements engaged with caste and subaltern discourse.

A. The Geopolitical and Ideological Shift

Traditional Puranic sources, specifically the Srimad Bhagavata Purana, locate the events involving Vamana and Bali near the Narmada River, in the region of Bhṛgukaccha (modern Bharuch, Gujarat).¹³ The localization of the myth in Kerala, where Mahabali (known as Maveli) is revered as the state’s beloved utopian ruler, represents a cultural appropriation and shift over centuries.²³

An essential aspect of this critique involves the timing. Bali Pratipada occurs in the month of Kartik (Oct/Nov), while Kerala’s Onam occurs earlier in Chingam (Aug/Sept).²⁵ The popular folk belief that Mahabali returns annually during Onam, though central to the local narrative ("Maaveli Naadu Vaaneedum Kaalam"), is noted by scholars as a cultural development that lacks support in ancient textual authority.²⁵

The creation of the utopian narrative connecting Mahabali's just rule with Onam is historically recent, traceable to the 20th century. Major Malayalam literary figures preceding this era were conspicuously silent on Mahabali’s rule over Kerala.²⁷ This transformation accelerated with the work of social reformers like Sahodaran Ayyappan, whose 1934 poem helped solidify Mahabali as the hero of Onam.²³ This modern dating indicates that the myth was actively re-engineered to address socio-political imperatives, such as emerging anti-caste and self-respect movements.²³

B. Framing the Conflict: Mahabali as Subaltern Hero

Within this subaltern framework, the Mahabali myth is radically inverted. Mahabali is framed as an indigenous, egalitarian, and casteless "Dravidian" or Dalit-Bahujan monarch.²³ His reign is remembered as a golden age of "absolute equality, honesty, and prosperity".²³ In some ideological circles, he is even identified as a "Buddhist egalitarian king" or "Comrade Mahabali".²⁷

Consequently, Vamana is cast as the archetypal antagonist. He is portrayed as a cunning "'upper-caste' Brahmin" or an external "Aryan" force.²³ His deception is viewed as a violent act of cultural colonization intended to destroy the indigenous, egalitarian social structure and impose the oppressive varna or caste system.²⁸

Drawing on theoretical frameworks from Subaltern Studies ⁷, this reinterpretation uses the myth as a powerful metaphor for resistance against dominant elitism and cultural hegemony.⁶ The act of venerating Maveli thus becomes an existential tactic to disrupt established codes and assert the "unyielding spirit of a moral protagonist who remains resistant to full colonisation".⁶

C. Contradictions in Identity: The Politics of Mythological Race and Caste

The subaltern critique often focuses on Vamana's Brahmin appearance, framing the conflict along simplistic Aryan/Dravidian or Brahmin/Dalit lines.²³ However, traditional Puranic genealogy states that Mahabali was a descendant of the sage Kashyapa ¹⁵, a lineage that places him historically within a Brahminical framework, despite his identity as an Asura.²⁹ Furthermore, traditional paintings sometimes depict Mahabali with the choti(tuft) associated with Brahmins.²⁹

This intellectual tension demonstrates that the myth serves as a flexible cultural tool. When the subaltern argument reframes Vamana as the Brahminical/Aryan colonizer, the goal is not strict textual accuracy (like Bali's lineage) but establishing a clear symbolic antagonist necessary for sociopolitical mobilization and the critique of institutional hierarchy. The power of the Vamana-Mahabali narrative is its capacity to simultaneously sustain devotional surrender (Puranic tradition) and politically charged resistance (Subaltern critique).

Table 3: Comparison of Traditional and Subaltern Interpretations of the Vamana-Bali Dyad

Interpretive Framework	King Mahabali/Maveli	Vamana/Vishnu Avatar	The Event (Three Steps)
Traditional/Puranic View	A pious, generous Daitya king afflicted by ahankara. A devotee saved by divine grace through ultimate surrender.	The merciful Preserver of Dharma; acts strategically (Lila) to restore cosmic balance and grant salvation (moksha).	Divine humbling of ego; a test of devotion; the defeat of pride leads to spiritual victory and eternal protection in Sutala.11
Subaltern/Critical View	An ideal, casteless (Dravidian/Dalit-Bahujan) ruler who governed a utopian society. A hero unjustly displaced and victimized by deceit.	A cunning Brahmin/Aryan figure representing external, invading power, imposing the oppressive varna system.23	An act of Brahmanical deception, cultural colonization, and the violent destruction of an indigenous, egalitarian social order.30

VI. Conclusion: Synthesis and Enduring Legacy

A. The Bifurcation of the Bali Narrative

Bali Pratipada is a complex cultural phenomenon resulting from the confluence of ancient Vedic ritual, Puranic theology, and modern political interpretation. The festival effectively functions as two distinct narratives based on the geographical and ideological context. In its pan-Indian expression (Bali Pratipada in Kartik), it remains a devotional and economic festival centered on the triumph of humility, the grace of divine intervention, and the renewal of prosperity.¹

However, the localized Maveli narrative, central to the subaltern critique, utilizes the same mythological framework to articulate themes of historical injustice, resistance to dominant cultural norms, and the aspiration to reclaim an egalitarian past.²³

B. The Cyclical Nature of Myth and Meaning

The enduring power of the Vamana-Mahabali story lies in its inherent capacity to adapt. It provides a foundational myth that simultaneously validates the established cosmic order and offers a structural template for social critique and the expression of subaltern identity.¹² Bali Pratipada demonstrates that mythological narratives are not static historical records but dynamic cultural assets capable of sustaining radically divergent, yet equally passionate, meanings depending on the theological, economic, or political lens through which they are observed.

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Annexure: Sources and Research Material

1. Definition, date, general significance, nomenclature, and auspicious timings of Bali Pratipada/Padva (Kartik month, Diwali) and its recognition as the regional New Year.
2. Regional names like Bali Padva, Bali Padyami, Vira Pratipada, Dyuta Pratipada, Barlaj, Bestu Varas/New Year. Auspicious Muhūrtas. Bali's boon of annual return. Rituals like drawing Bali's image, Gopuja, tool worship. Bali's moksha through surrender.
3. Mahabali's ahankara (pride) leading to his downfall. Traditional rituals celebrating marital fidelity and reciprocity in Maharashtra and Gujarat.
4. Placement of Bali Pratipada on the fourth day of Diwali, coinciding with Govardhan Puja, and its connection to the Vamana-Mahabali story.
5. Regional New Year (Bestu Varas), auspicious timing, rituals like Abhyangasnan, agrarian rites in Karnataka/Tamil Nadu: Gopuja, Gouramma puja, and creating a triangular Bali image from cow dung.
6. The subaltern critique framing Mahabali as a moral protagonist whose spirit is resistant to full colonization, used as an existential tactic against dominant elitism.
7. The theoretical foundation of Subaltern Studies concerning critiques of elitism, power dynamics, identity, and modernization.
8. References to Vishnu's "Three Strides" (Trivikrama) in Vedic texts (RigVeda) and its later incorporation into the Puranic Vamana narrative.
9. The Shatapatha Brahmana account detailing Vamana (dwarf) gaining the earth from Asuras through ritual sacrifice, predating the personalization of the opponent as Mahabali.
10. Vamana's strategic Lila (divine play) to restore cosmic order (dharma), using cunning and wisdom over brute force.
11. The philosophical symbolism of Vamana crushing Bali's ego; the concept that surrender (sharanagati) leads to salvation (moksha) and spiritual victory.
12. The mythological concept that narratives demonstrate the cyclical nature of cosmic balance, wealth renewal, and possess the inherent capacity to sustain divergent meanings.
13. The Srimad Bhagavata Purana's detailed account, locating the Vamana-Bali events near the Narmada River at Bhṛgukaccha.
14. Details of the Puranic account: Bali is exiled to Sutala, Vishnu promises protection/guardianship, Bali’s devotion is tested, and his willing surrender of his head for the third step.
15. Mahabali's traditional Puranic genealogy as the grandson of Prahlada, a pious daitya king, and a descendant of the sage Kashyapa.
16. Description of King Bali's virtues (benevolent, prosperous, just) and his flaw of overreach (conquering the three worlds).
17. Theological assertion that greatness lies in devotion and actions, transcending birth lineage (such as daitya status).
18. Spiritual significance of surrender: relinquishing material wealth and power for ultimate devotion and fulfillment.
19. Instructions from the Bhavisyottara Purana for the ritual consecration and worship of King Bali's image made of rice grains on Kartika Pratipada.
20. Celebration of renewed prosperity, the ceremonial cleaning of the cowshed, and Gopuja.
21. Vamana's philosophical lesson that dissatisfaction leads to the cycle of birth and death, while humility and contentment lead to moksha.
22. Analysis that Mahabali's downfall was rooted in his pride and overreach (ahankara).
23. Modern, subaltern reinterpretation framing Mahabali as an indigenous, casteless "Dravidian" monarch ruling a utopia, contrasted with Vamana as the "upper-caste" or "Aryan" antagonist.
24. The popular folk memory of Maveli/Mahabali’s rule as a utopian past of absolute equality, honesty, and prosperity.
25. Scholarly note that Bali Pratipada is celebrated in Kartik (Oct/Nov), contradicting the popular folk belief that Mahabali returns annually during Onam (Chingam/Aug-Sept).
26. Observation of the "conspicuous silence" of pre-20th-century Malayalam literary figures regarding Mahabali's rule over Kerala.
27. Localization traced to the 20th century, specifically crediting the 1934 poem by social reformer Sahodaran Ayyappan for solidifying Mahabali as the hero of Onam.
28. Interpretation by some leftist thinkers that Mahabali was an "egalitarian Buddhist king" or "Comrade Mahabali."
29. Evidence from traditional paintings and Mahabali's lineage used to contradict the simplistic Brahmin/Dalit framing in the subaltern critique.
30. The use of the Vamana-Mahabali myth as a structural template for social critique, viewing Vamana's act as deception and the imposition of hierarchy.
31. The perspective that Vamana's act was the violent destruction of an indigenous, egalitarian social order.
32. Principles of corporate and personal leadership focusing on selective memory, curatorial practice, forgetting ego, and remembering core purpose.