I was fondly taken aback because there was no “Letter from the Editor” in March’s Prometeo. We not only were rushing to place a page of advertisements, but also, perhaps more importantly, late for the printer. So, I thought about cutting it (albeit not entirely, since the editorial was published on the website: https://prometeoliberato.com/en/ editorial-march-2025/).
However, I recognize that the topic addressed in that editorial merits the utmost visibility: whether and how we ought to deal with present conflicts. The present state of global affairs is by no means marginal, given that, as I write this in mid-May, we are staring down the potential for devastating wars between atomic actors. It goes without mention that those events that have strained the world’s emotions to the utmost in Gaza.
I’ll say it once more knowing full well that some, or perhaps many, will disagree.
Prometeo does not want to and cannot deal with the circumstances of our everyday life, however consequential they may be: unhinging national geographies, institutional arrangements, and broken economies (including our own). The reason is simple: we are overwhelmed by propaganda, which is not a futile exercise by social addicts, but a management tool at the highest levels of political and alliance systems. In a world prone to put on their helmets, we remain free and silent on the point, waiting for the journalistic centrifuge to decant, leaving historians, economists, political scientists and philosophers — in short, scholars — with a context reasonably free of mortgages and affiliations, however complex and rugged a terrain in its own right.
I hope for it with caution so as not to allow my optimism to become foolishness. The chronicles of these days show that even eighty years can be a short time and that the twentieth century stirs unrelieved ghosts. The recurrence of the German defeat in 1945, for example, has put forth a decidedly pathetic revisionist wave, with an instrumental and insistent devaluation of the role of the Red Army – since today Russia would be the enemy and German rearmament our big chance. Similarly, here in Italy, we have seen how an attempt has been made to bracket the decisive partisan contribution in national liberation, with strong emphasis instead on the British and American role. A journal of analysis and reflection such as Prometeo does not aspire to enter this struggle.
Since it is unthinkable not to deal with such an important anniversary, we decided to let the images do much of the talking, and some of them are resoundingly iconic. From an analytical point of view, our task is, if anything, to help, with history, to draw similarities and parallels, and to derive some navigational tools in an opaque and uncertain present. In this regard, I point out economist Giulio Cifarelli’s excellent article that presents the Napoleonic adventure from the perspective of its trade policies-the famous duties, the famous sanctions.
There are many other articles that deserve a mention. For reasons of mere space, I limit myself to a few highlights. Prometeo 170’s Crossover features two important contributions. The first is Lorenzo Perilli’s “The Dream of Hephaestus,” a short and highly cultured essay that reasons about the contemporary claim to measure intelligence and reproduce consciousness-this is the current debate on AI-while the myth comes powerfully back to the fore.
The second, “The Age of the Absurd” by Leonardo Quattrucci, is an intense narrative walk-through and reflects on the progressive sense of absurdity that everyday life is generating in all of us: a calm text, but disruptive in its own way. The most exciting piece? I would say it was important for me to read about the developments on the asteroid Bennu. Although with a great deal of thoughtfulness, not to mention caution, astrophysicist Patrizia Caraveo informs us that life on planet Earth might have indeed come from the cosmos.
I’d like to think that even Kant would have been a little moved at the news that the starry sky is not only above, but also within us.
Gabriella Piroli