Ingmar Bergman passed away this year. It was not unexpected of course—he was after all 89 years of age—, but time still stopped for an instant. An era died there. Will he ever have an heir? I was curious about the world’s reaction. Not surprisingly, America, alongside Sweden, reacted the most. In the New York Times obituary he was compared not to Welles, Fellini or Kurosawa, but Mozart and van Gogh. An artist had passed away; one of the great artists not just of our generation, but of all time.

Whenever globalisation is debated, the arguments generally fall (very) broadly into two categories: the Marxist and the liberal. The Marxist view is that globalisation is a form of exploitation, even colonisation. The liberal view is that the opening up of free markets allows progress in the poorest parts of the world: modern capitalism will lead to stronger economies, wealth generation, more equality and greater cooperation the world over. In this article, I will challenge both views.

So, this was going to be the showdown between two of the most controversial and influential writers, philosophers, scientists, artists and whatnots perhaps ever: Strindberg vs. Nietzsche. In the end it turned out to be a little bit of everything. A defence of good writing, a critique of good writing, morality, religion, an insight into two men’s lives and what a great thought requires (nothing).

George Orwell thought there was such a thing as good writing. Objectively good writing. I happen to agree. I have always regretted that I’m not a good writer myself. But I have always prided myself on recognising if something is good. It’s the same with music. I can’t play an instrument to save my life, but I have always been able to pick up the unknown gems before they break to the public. If it’s possible to listen to or read something and recognise it as good before it has been more widely recognised as such, perhaps there really are qualities to music–and writing–that are objectively good or bad.