‘Realtime Synthesis’ and the Différance of the Body: Technocultural Studies in the Wake of Deconstruction by Mark Hansen

Bernard Stiegler (1952-)

Bernard Stiegler (1952-)

Mark Hansen

Bernard Stiegler’s Technics and Time (published in three volumes over the period from 1994-2001, with two further volumes promised) marks an important chance for deconstruction – a chance for it to (re)enter the terrain marked out by cultural studies. More exactly, Stiegler’s work marks the chance for deconstruction (understood, for the moment at least, as a thinking of the aporia of the origin) to put forth its rightful claim to be the necessary – and now explicitly necessary – ’ground’ for cultural studies.

In analyses ranging over mythology and paleontology, contemporary technoscience and phenomenology, Stiegler has developed a highly original philosophy of technology, the central premise of which is that the human has always been technological. Drawing on the perspective of French paleontologist Andre Leroi-Gourhan, who argues for the coincidence of tool use and the appearance of the human, Stiegler claims that the human can be specified as that being who evolves through means other than life, through a coupling with the independent ’exterior’ evolution of technological objects. This insistence on the correlation of the human subject (the ’who’) and the technical object (‘the what’) informs Stiegler’s rereading of Heidegger in volume 1 of Technics and Time as well as his divergences from Derrida’s retooling of Heidegger in Of Spirit and related works. Resurrecting Heidegger’s analysis in an early lecture from 1924 on time (‘The Concept of Time’), Stiegler shows that the emphasis Heidegger places on the opposition between ecstatic,transcendental temporality and mundane temporality is misplaced, since there can be no access to time, indeed no experience of time whatsoever, without the prior inscription of time in worldly form. Thus Daseinis irreducibly dependent on the technical giving of time. This analysis furnishes an alternative to Derrida’s own deconstruction of Heidegger and, as we shall see, a variant path toward thinking the possibility of the future. Whereas Derrida undoes the Heideggerian opposition only to rediscover and reemphasize the radical alterity of time (which forms the basis for the ’promise’ in his more recent ethico-religious perspective), Stiegler refuses to bracket the technical. As we will see, this difference ultimately concerns the role respectively accorded the empirical-transcendental divide by the two philosophers.

For the moment, however, what needs to be stressed is the promise Stiegler’s insistence on the irreducibility of the technical holds for (re)discovering deconstruction within cultural studies. This promise concerns the privilege he accords the empirical manifestation of différance. If time is only given through concrete technical inscriptions, as Stiegler maintains, then technics would necessarily possess a determining agency over the materialization of différance at this or that specific historical moment. There would furthermore necessarily be a history of différance, and this history would be inseparable from – indeed, nothing other than – the history of the supplement.

Despite garnering accusations from certain (Derridian) detractors that his position positivizes différance,1 it is in fact precisely because it runs the risk of positivism that Stiegler’s work can aid us in(re)discovering deconstruction within cultural studies. Stiegler’s work, as I see it, forges a much needed position between positivism and abstraction – between the various strategies for positivizing différance that one finds in contemporary cultural studies (for example, in the ’radical empiricism’ of audience research studies (Ang, 1996: 251) and more generally in the ubiquitious call for explorations of heterogeneity as a’positive’, that is, concrete phenomenon)2 and the retreat to a pretechnical, precultural quasi-politics of the promise that Derrida has recently articulated. What distinguishes Stiegler from the former is precisely his appreciation for the aporia of the origin: for if the origin is never (simply) given, then what conditions experience at any concrete moment cannot be situated exclusively at the level of the empirical. On the flip side, what distinguishes Stiegler from Derrida is the manner in which he conceptualizes the aporia: for Stiegler, the aporia is not a logical principle whose sway is exercised prior to and independently of the empirical, but rather the rigorous consequence of the givenness of time (différance) through concrete technical objects. The dependence of the human on the technical object marks an excess over the empirical that, however, remains inseparable from the empirical – that, as he will say, only appears as its ’après-coup’.

The ultimate consequence of Stiegler’s correlation of the human and the technical is the claim – a claim for which I shall argue in what follows – that the (re)discovery of deconstruction within cultural studies has the consequence of transforming cultural studies into technocultural studies. While it evinces much resonance with contemporary cultural studies of media and technology, Stiegler’s work can thus be understood to call into question some of the fundamental principles of cultural studies as such. In the first place, it questions the very privilege of culture itself from a post-Marxist perspective aligned with the techno-economic conditions of globalization.3 Its distinctive merit here is the specificity it introduces into such questioning: in a world where culture (understood by Stiegler, perhaps too narrowly, as the ’adoption’ or reproduction of the tradition) is made possible by technics (the various archival technologies from phonography up to today’s teletechnologies), the effort to examine how technics simultaneously enables and constrains cultural production takes precedence, and indeed becomes the condition for, cultural studies proper. As one important consequence of this questioning of the cultural, Stiegler’s perspective presents a vastly different model for understanding the subject’s relation with the transnational media system. To put it schematically, whereas cultural studies’ approach to the media, from Stuart Hall’s ’decoder-encoder’model to the audience research studies of Ien Ang and Janice Radway, positions the viewer and media technology as extrinsic in relation to one another, Stiegler’s work conceptualizes the correlation of the two as intrinsic. Thus, where cultural studies speaks (a variously inflected) rhetoric of viewer empowerment, Stiegler’s work begins from a premise that enjoins him from investing in any simple politics of subjective agency. For if consciousness is constituted through technics, and if the conditions for such constitution today (what Stiegler calls the ’real time’ ’technical synthesis’) function to industrialize consciousness (i.e.make it a ’product’ of the global televisual system), then it makes little sense to seek emancipation in counter-hegemonic reception practices.4 Rather, in keeping with the ’originary prostheticity’ of consciousness,emancipation can only come from technics itself, from a technical intervention that can change the reception situation – from, for example, the possibilities for (a very different) decoding and encoding offered by the digital discretization of the continuous, ’real time’ image. What this means, ultimately, is that emancipation can only come through technogenesis, that is, through an ’evolution’ of consciousness itself via its intrinsic correlation with technics. On this understanding, emancipation would never be from a dominant ideology disseminated by the media, but on the contrary, could only ever be the effect of a new configuration of the subjective and technical syntheses.

At the most general level, what brings Stiegler’s work into affinity with cultural studies is a common effort to anchor theoretical analysis in the concrete. In the end, however, Stiegler’s commitment to the technical specificity of différance yields a very different concept of the empirical than that championed by practitioners of cultural studies (e.g. Ang’s call for a ’radical empiricism’ in the face of a ’transnational media system [that] is an irreversible process that cannot be structurally transcended, only negotiated in concrete cultural contexts’ (1995: 251)). Rather than the locus for a cultural specification of a technoeconomic reality, Stiegler’s empirical is the technical condition for the appearance of différance, for the gift of time, in the world today. As such, it is always in excess of itself, shot through with the contingency that, far from ratifying a media system by configuring it in a ’local’ perspective, serves to open the possibility of the future. In the end, Stiegler’s concept of the empirical marks the privileging of the technical over the cultural, a fact that can be seen, for example, in his analysis of the suspension of the ethnic (in favor of technics itself) as the agent of collective individuation. It would be hard to imagine a position more at odds with an agenda (like that of Ang) that embraces ethnography as one of its fundamental tools.

What Stiegler’s work affords, then, is an opportunity to transform cultural studies into technocultural practice. My effort to perform this transformation here will unfold in two sections. In the first, I propose to rehearse Stiegler’s transformative appropriation of Derrida’s early conceptualization of différance, the trace, and archi-writing with the purpose primarily of laying bare the salient differences between their respective philosophies, and specificially, their divergent embrace of technics. This analysis will culminate in the question regarding today’s realtime global media system where the stakes of their differences are(in my opinion) most consequential. By exploring the conceptual différend informing their 1993 televised debate concerning media, I shall restage the discussion, as it were, in terms of the crucial difference between their respective negotiations of the empirical-transcendental divide. Not only will we thus see how their quite divergent appreciation for the threat that realtime media poses to différance stems from more basic philosophical commitments, but we will find ourselves in a position to assess this threat itself and its implications for technocultural studies today.

In the second, I shall perform my own transformative appropriation of Stiegler’s work. I shall argue, specifically, that his insight into the eclipse of différance enacted by the technical synthesis of realtime media calls for a reevaluation of his privileging of the technical over the anthropological. For it is precisely at the moment when the materialization of différance in inscription technologies no longer supports phenomenological experience that the correlation of différance with human embodiment must be (re)affirmed, that its irreducible correlation with the time of the body will appear most originary. Put somewhat differently, the realtime condition lays bare what, with philosopher Gilbert Simondon, we will theorize as the pre-anthropological source out of which the transduction of the human and technics arises. Accordingly,I will posit a further consequence of the (re)discovery of deconstruction within cultural studies: the rehabilitation of bodily time as the medium for sustaining différance in the face of the perpetual present of realtime media.

(I) From the Genealogy of Matter to the Realtime Synthesis

Let me begin by simply describing the nature of Stiegler’s intervention into Derrida’s original grammatological project. Stiegler’s conception of the ’originary prostheticity’ of the human, of its co-emergence with tool use, performs a certain displacement of deconstruction that has the effect of specifying, against Derrida’s own conception, the constitutive technicity of arche-writing. By differentiating arche-writing (or writing in general) from any historical system of writing (including speech), Derrida inaugurates the thinking of deconstruction as a thinking of an aporia of the origin that is prior to technics. That is the reason he can say, as he does in Of Grammatology, that ’a certain sort of question about the meaning and origin of writing precedes, or at least merges with, a certain type of question about the meaning and origin of technics.That is why the notion of technique can never simply clarify the notion of writing’ (Derrida, 1974: 8). For Stiegler, this thinking must be amended in such a way that the aporia can be preserved but in a form that is not separable from its givenness in a concrete technical inscription system. Thus he contends:

If arche-writing and the logic of the supplement are to be distinguished from the history of empirical supplements, it is primarily because an absolute past constitutes the impossibility of approaching the trace in terms of a mark, the impossibility of folding arche-writing back upon its irreducible empiricity. . . The tertiary trace refers to the arche-trace, older than any empirical or meta-empirical trace; it refers to the absolute past. But the absolute past only constitutes itself ’as such’ through this referral. It is why a logic of the supplement, without ever simply being such a history, must also be a history of the supplement and its epochs, epochs that are each time singular and must each time form the object of a technical history constantly renewed. (Stiegler, 2001a: 255, 263)

The ultimate payoff of this difference, as I have already suggested, concerns the conceptualization of the transcendental-empirical divide: whereas for Derrida transcendence is given by the aporia of the origin,for Stiegler it is constituted through technics as the support for the inscription of memory. Technics, or ’organized inorganic matter’, forms the condition for the givenness of time in any concrete situation, and thus(since time is, following Heidegger’s destruction of metaphysics, the basis for transcendence) the concrete condition for the transcendental gesture that is constitutive of the human. As the being of ’originary prostheticity’, the human suspends (or transcends) its genetic program by exteriorizing its memory into matter, thereby pursuing life through means other than life. The correlation of différance and organized inanimate matter (the technical object) involves a crucial aporia that is, interestingly and significantly, different from Derrida’s aporia of time: simply put, the technical object is both the condition for transcendence and the mark of its impossibility. It both makes consciousness possible as such by opening up the dimension of exteriorization (of the pursuit of life by extragenetic means) and levels transcendence through its absolute resistance to transcendental reduction. Thus, whereas Derrida retreats into an aporia between time and its empirical appearance as technicity or calculability, Stiegler dwells within the paradox created by the primacy of inscription itself, the fact that time must be technically inscribed for it to exist.5

This analysis calls on us to foreground what we might call the responsibility of deconstruction to technics: deconstruction must accept the consequences of its necessary – and constitutive – encounter with technics. Most fundamentally, this means that arche-writing must, in every instance, be correlated with a concrete technical inscription system that does not so much give its condition of possibility, as generate itaprès coup. Arche-writing and inscription appear in a single configuration, through a movement of co-constitution that Stiegler, following the philosopher Gilbert Simondon, calls transduction (defined as a relation between terms neither of which precedes or exists outside the relation). Yet as a result of this transductive correlation with specific technical systems of inscription, arche-writing cannot appear outside of the history of technical differentiations which define what Stiegler calls a ’genealogy of matter’.

Stiegler’s project, then, may be understood as an effort to take seriously Derrida’s claim (in Of Grammatology) that différance is technics. If this effort forms the covert agenda of The Fault of Epimetheus (volume 1 of Technics and Time), it comes to the fore in volume 2, La Désorientation, and particularly in volume 3, Le Temps du cinéma, where Stiegler is concerned with assessing the specificity of contemporary technics, which range from global media and digitization to genetic engineering and which can be grouped under the rubric ’teletechnologies’. It is in the analyses of contemporary technics that the claim informing the ’General Introduction’ to the project takes concrete form. There, Stiegler puts forth the suggestion that time and space, far from determining (and placing some absolute limit on) speed, are in fact determined by it. Asking what it would mean (following Maurice Blanchot) to conceive our age as one in the process of breaking the ’time barrier’, Stiegler invokes the concept of shock:

What would be the breaking of a time barrier if this meant going faster than time? What shock would be provoked by a device going quicker than its ’own time’? Such a shock would in fact mean that speed is older than time. For either time, with space, determines speed, and there could be no question of breaking the time barrier in this sense, or else time, like space, is only thinkable in terms of speed (which remains unthought). (Stiegler, 1998: 15)

Older than time and space, speed is older than différance, or perhaps more precisely, speed is différance, the condition for all deferral and delay.6

Yet speed can hardly be a general condition for différance, since its impact refers to a particular state of technics. The above reflection on speed, Stiegler is quick to point out, is generated not by ’the development of technics in general’, but by ’certain effects of technical development, . . . namely, those that in computing one calls ”real time” and in the media ”live” – effects that distort profoundly, if not radically, what could be called ”event-ization” [événementalisation] as such, that is to say, the taking place of time as much as the taking place of space’ (Stiegler, 1998: 16). When we turn to volume 2, we learn that the technical specificity attached to the concept of speed harbors a threat to différance as such. This is what Stiegler conceptualizes as the industrialization of time called ’real time’, in which speed itself appropriates on the side of the technical ’what’ the operation of delay formerly reserved for the human ’who’:

The contemporary what has often been specified by its speed. If speed, as the in advance [comme avance], has always been an attribute proper to technics, in the epoch of the letter it facilitated the experience of delay as deferred time. Today, the speed of technics takes this delay upon itself. . .. As if technics integrated in itself the delay which seemed until now to constitute the who on theside [àl'écart] of the what, according it thereby its consistency. This displacement is what we refer to as real time. (Stiegler, 1996: 77)

It is absolutely crucial that we grasp just what Stiegler is arguing here, just what claim he is making on behalf of real time. Is he suggesting that real time eliminates delay as such, as we might be given to understand from his claim (on the page following the above citation) that ’real time is not time’ but is rather the ’detemporalization of time, or its occultation’? (78). Or is his argument rather (as the above passage would seem to suggest) that real time effaces the gap upon which the phenomenalization of time depends, the gap between the who and the what, consciousness and the technical inscription of time? In short: does real time mark an objective eclipse of différance, an absolute acceleration, or does it rather mark a transition across (or beneath) the temporal threshold of consciousness, a passage to a technical inscription of différance that would simply not give itself to or in phenomenal experience? Since this is precisely the question at issue in the Stiegler-Derrida debate, let us reserve further discussion until we have laid out Stiegler’s investment in cinema as the paradigm for contemporary time consciousness.

In his essay ’The Time of Cinema’, and more expansively in volume 3 of Technics and Time (Le temps du cinéma), Stiegler seeks to substantiate his argument for the necessity of specifying différance by turning to the cinema as a form of inscription fundamentally distinct from (alphabetic) writing. Thus Stiegler characterizes cinema as a ’writing of life’ that is in the process of displacing the epoch of linguistic grammatization:

. . .one must not place language and cinema on the same plane. . . . I place speech and life on the same plane, I place life (de anima) in the position of speech, and say that cinema is the writing of life. Just as, . . .through reproduction of speech there was the invention of language and grammar which transformed this speech, there is today cinema as the writing of the movement of life – and what is interesting is seeing why and how it transforms life. (Stiegler, 1998a: 94)

Yet it is what differentiates cinema from writing that is most significant: cinematic grammatization arises on the basis of a specific technical instantiation of archi-writing or différance. This is why, when Stiegler speaks about ’cinema’ – and, specifically, when he claims cinema to be the exemplary contemporary technical object or form of the what, what he really seeks to foreground is the inscription of a double tendency of technics: on one hand, to collapse the delay between the who and the what, consciousness and the technical object, in opening up the black hole of the ’live’; and on the other, to inaugurate a new form of grammatization (and not simply a new epoch of grammatology or archiwriting) informed by the potential digitization affords to discretize the continuous realtime cinematic flux. As a successor to the grammatological epoch, what the ’cinematic’ epoch would designate is less the specific apparatus we know as cinema than the entire era of technical recording that began with the invention of phonography and photography and that is still in full swing today.7 We might better call it the audiovisual epoch, as Stiegler himself does when he grants digitization a certain priority as the technical accomplishment that discretizes technical recording, and thus accords it its proper specificity as the grammatization of life: the ’grammatical operator [of the audiovisual revolution] is . . . technology itself: the discretization of the ”continuity” of the image-object is going to be carried out in relation to technoscientific opportunity (the discovery of this or that algorithm of form recognition, for example), and not on the basis of a decision made by a”grammarian”‘ (Stiegler, 2002: 161).

Yet if this epochal understanding is right, how are we to make sense of Stiegler’s undeniable investment in the cinema as a concrete apparatus and in ’cinema’ as the name for our technically-specified epoch? Or,to put it another, simpler way, what can Stiegler possibly get from his investment in cinema? What he gets is the paradigm for the experience of the self, for self-consciousness, for what philosophers call ’self-affection’ (Kant) or ’internal time-consciousness’ (Husserl), as it takes shape in the world today. More than any other technology (and certainly more than literature), it is cinema in its contemporary form as global television that frames time for us and gives us a surrogate temporal object in whose reflection we become privy to the flux of our own consciousness. At the same time, by opening consciousness onto the past,onto the non-lived of tradition or historicality, onto otherness of that which does not belong to the experience of consciousness, cinema qua temporal object captures the contemporary manifestation of the interdependence of the who and the what, of the human subject and the technical other. Put bluntly, we become who we are by inheriting a past destined to us through . . . cinema!8

Let us pause to remark on the significance of Stiegler’s investment in cinema with respect to contemporary technocultural studies. In stark contrast to the position of German ’media scientist’ Friedrich Kittler, who triumphantly announces the obsolescence of the human in the face of contemporary digital convergence, Stiegler’s consideration of cinema, precisely because it foregrounds the irreducible coupling of technics with the human, serves to insure the continued centrality of the correlation of consciousness and technical temporal object as we move into an era of digitization (or the digital phase of our audiovisual era) that would seem to threaten its effacement. For this reason, as we shall see, Stiegler’s work obtains a crucial ethical dimension: specifically, it will allow us to retain a human perspective even when the time of the human seems to be radically eclipsed by realtime computing and live media. (And, importantly, it will do so without any recourse to a transcendental or quasi-transcendental principle.) Indeed, as a corollary of his insistence on the irreducible coupling of the human and technics, this ethical dimension drives a wedge between these two manifestations of digitization – realtime computing and live media – that,unfortunately, remain undifferentiated in Stiegler’s work,9 and that are, in fact, conflated in Kittler’s.10 The former operates at a timescale that is, in principle, beyond the threshold of human perception, and thus represents an acceleration that is properly inhuman (without however being absolute): realtime computing - what Stiegler (following Virilio) calls ’light time’ - comprises a technical materialization of différance at the microphysical level. So-called live or realtime media, by contrast, operate at a timescale entirely compatible with consciousness; it is only for purely contingent reasons (e.g. the identity of registration and broadcasting in contemporary media) that the différance constitutive of the time of the human would seem to be eliminated. While this is a powerful effect of our contemporary realtime televisual system that, as Stiegler articulates at length in Le temps du cinéma, leads to the industrialization of consciousness on a global scale and the global domination of the ’American way of life’, the very fact that it operates at the same time scale as the human preserves its openness to critical intervention, to a politics of deceleration and discretization itself made possible by digital technologies.11

It is precisely because Stiegler insists on the correlation of the who and the what, of consciousness and the (technical) temporal object, that the ’real time’ synthesis poses a problem: by rendering registration and broadcasting simultaneous, it threatens simply to conflate consciousness and the temporal object that otherwise, following the Husserlian analysis Stiegler appropriates,12 would allow consciousness to reflect on itself. Without this temporal difference between consciousness and temporal object, there can be no foothold for différance in the empirical, which is to say that it cannot then emerge as the après coup of the technical inscription of time (as Stiegler insists it must). Now this is precisely the scenario Stiegler presents when he describes the shortcircuiting of the past, of memory, in contemporary realtime media:

. . . the two coincidences proper to the televisual epoch of cinema (direct transmission and live production of images) engenders a temporal object of a new kind, such that what occurs is immediately formatted photographically and registered as a ’just past’ ’it has been’, that is, as a primary retention collectively and massively retained via this tertiary retention which the telediffused program indubitably and immediately already is. In these temporal objects which news programs are, it becomes impossible to distinguish between the primary memory ’just past’ and image consciousness, since what occurs occurs immediately by the image consciousness. The lived experience of this news is a temporal object which is irreducibly an image consciousness. The present tends to present itself in no other form than that of the temporal object. (Stiegler, 1998a: 106, emphasis added)

This conflation of consciousness and temporal object, this coincidence of tertiary memory and primary retention (the ’just past’ ’it has been’), is precisely what, for Stiegler, specifies the ’live’, and also what differentiates it from real time computing or ’light-time’.

Clearly, then, to return to the questions posed above concerning ’real time’, Stiegler does not see ’real time’ as it appears in ’cinema’ (again, as distinct from real time computing) as an objective eclipse ofdifférance, an absolute acceleration. Rather, like Derrida, he understands it to be an ’artifactuality’, a contingent technical calculation of time that is so rapid it evades the scope of phenomenological consciousness.13 Accordingly, the focus of their debate in Echographies of Television (2002) is not whether real time is artifactual but, rather, what its implications are for the possibility of maintaining an ’outside’of the empirical. Because he thinks that différance simply is more originary than technics, Derrida can take for granted the possibility for a critical relationship to teletechnologies, albeit one that (in today’s real time scenario) is necessarily deferred to the future. For Stiegler, on the other hand, there can be no such transcendental solution, since the possibility for transcendence is itself transductively correlated with technics. That is why Echographies, as Beardsworth has astutely noted, witnesses Stiegler repeatedly returning to the question of specificity only to be given the same answer by Derrida: real time teletechnologies are and are not specific; they demarcate a new epoch of writing that is, however, made possible by the movement of (a singular) différance.14 From Stiegler’s perspective, Derrida will thus always already have reduced the threat of the live, of real time, by encompassing teletechnologies within archi-writing.15

To get a concrete sense of just how differently Derrida and Stiegler understand the stakes of the artifactuality of real time, let us turn to their respective efforts to think together the contingency of the technical inscription of time and its phenomenological effacement. For Derrida, the contingency of technical inscription (what Stiegler describes as a great opportunity, une grande chance)16 becomes the basis for an argument against originary technicity. Specifically, the contingency of the technical underscores the irreducibility of temporalization (the spacing of time) to its concrete technical inscription, and thus opens what Richard Beardsworth has called the ’aporia of time’, the originarity of time and the ’promise’ in Derrida’s work since 1994 (Beardsworth, 1996). This is why Derrida conceives the possibility for a critical reflection on today’s teletechnologies in terms of an ethical injunction: the injunction to preserve the ontological difference between the technical synthesis of time and différance as the quasi-transcendental condition of possibility for time at the precise moment when that difference is effaced phenomenologically. For Derrida, in other words, the unbridgeable gap between technicization and temporalization insures that a critical relation to teletechnologies is in principle always possible, even though, in the face of the artifactuality of real time, it must be referred to a future moment.17

That such a quasi-politics of the promise remains far too formal for Stiegler’s taste can be discerned in his sustained call, in response to Derrida’s articulations, for a ’politics of memory’ that would directly contest the stranglehold imposed on the technical inscription of time by short-term economic interest. At the core of this politics of memory is an experimental program for deploying digital discretization in order to interrupt the identity of registration and broadcast (the realtime technical synthesis ) informing the contemporary industrialization of consciousness. That is why Stiegler contends in ’The Discrete Image’ (2002), that the digital image holds forth the promise of a ’more knowing belief,’ of new forms of ’objective analysis’ and of ’subjective synthesis’ of the visible precisely because it allows us unprecedented flexibility to intervene in the technical synthesis. With its capacity to interrupt the machinic flow of the realtime broadcast, digital technology promises to expose the determining role of the technical synthesis, and, more importantly still, to open it up to unprecedented forms of experimentation. By discretizing image flows that seem to us to be continuous, digitization will allow us ’to submit the this was to a decomposing analysis’and to add to the synthetic dimension of ’the spectator’s relation to the image . . . an analytic relation’ (Stiegler, 2002: 157-8). Digitization will thus alter the conditions under which the spectator ’intentionalizes thespectrum [of the image] as having been’, by bringing her own agency in selection to the fore at the expense of the automaticity of the realtime televisual apparatus. As a means of intervening in the technical synthesis, digitization thus constitutes the technical opportunity (or contingency) upon which a politics of memory can be erected. In stark contrast to Derrida, this technical opportunity is precisely what holds forth the possibility of (re)discovering a critical relation to contemporary teletechnologies, of (re)discovering différance within the artifactuality of real time, and – crucially – of finding the possibility of the future in the present, that is, within the contemporary technical inscription of time itself.

In his review of Echographies, Richard Beardsworth (1998) has underscored the failure of the two philosophers to engage at the level of their consequential philosophical differences. For my purposes, what is most important about the fundamental philosophical différend haunting the debate is that it gives rise to vastly divergent conceptualizations of the technical synthesis. For Stiegler, who draws directly on Roland Barthes’s analysis of photography in Camera Lucida, the technical synthesis holds a clear priority over the spectatorial synthesis in today’s real time, televisual cinema: because it inscribes time and makes it available to consciousness, the technical synthesis literally dictates the terms for the subjective synthesis, and it does so in a way that contaminates the latter, that renders it irreducibly technical. For Derrida, by contrast, the technical synthesis simply has no bearing on différance, only on its empirical manifestation; by restricting the impact of technics to the artifactuality of time (the technical synthesis), Derrida is able in principle to preserve an outside of the empirical and, with it, the purity of différance.

If we hope to move the analysis of real time media beyond the impasse of the Derrida-Stiegler debate, we must grasp clearly how these evaluations of the technical synthesis are both wrong yet nevertheless reflect the logic of each philosopher’s position. They are both wrong in being too extreme: Stiegler overvalues the technical synthesis at the expense of the agency of the human; Derrida undervalues it in order to preserve the abstract openness of the future. Neither can do otherwise, however, and for reasons of the most fundamental philosophical import: faced with the eclipse of the phenomenological experience of difference, and enjoined (by his fundamental philosophical commitments) from localizing différance in relation to any technical inscription of time, Derrida can only retreat to a quasi-transcendental conception of the ’aporia of time’; faced with the same eclipse, and enjoined (by his fundamental philosophical commitments) from invoking any transcendence of the technical, Stiegler can only localize différance as the transductive correlate of a technical possibility inherent in digital technology underlying the realtime technical synthesis. By way of anticipating my argument in the next section, let me suggest that both positions enact a massive impoverishment of the resources of embodied human agency, for in both cases it is the conviction that the phenomenological experience of différance has been effaced that motivates the respective valuations of the technical synthesis. Yet if différance can be maintained through what I shall call the differential of the body, then the technical need not pose the threat it appears to pose equally,though differently, to Stiegler and Derrida. To counter their common impoverishment of embodiment, we would thus do well to play their respective positions off of one another. Let me then close this section by proposing the following reckoning: that Stiegler is right about the need for technical specificity but that he errs in granting too much agency to the technical synthesis; and that Derrida is right to view différance as marking a certain separation of the human from the technical but wrong to accord this separation ontological significance.

II Technics and Continuity

Jean-Michel Salanskis concludes his enthusiastic and thoughtful review of the first two volumes of Stiegler’s project by raising an important objection. According to Salanskis, Stiegler privileges the discrete over the continuous. Because of his (misguided) allegiance to the ’postHeideggerian doxa‘, Stiegler, despite his efforts to bring together the two main strands in post-war French thinking, the epistemological-scientific and the phenomenological, ends by subordinating the former to the latter. More specifically, he falls victim to the confusion, both ’philosophical’ and ’axiological’, between a Hegelian conception of the continuous as self-identical and a ’mathematico-substantive’ conception of the continuous as differential and thus constitutive of the discontinuous.18 According to Salanskis, only the latter can yield a thinking of the discontinuous (the heterogeneous), for the discrete will have always already excluded the discontinuous in opposing itself to the continuous or in incorporating the continuous as the self-identical. Thus Salanskis asks a crucial question: doesn’t Stiegler’s effort to found time in technical inscription make the error of ’committing us to the order of the discrete, an order that is insufficient for thinking the heterogeneous and the dynamic, precisely what was his project at the beginning?’ (Salanskis, 2000: 277).

For Salanskis, the most important and immediate consequence of this privileging is that it compels Stiegler to misrecognize the fundamental function of the retention of the just-past in Husserl’s analysis, namely’to prescribe [prescrire] the constitution of a continuous time’ (275). According to Salanskis, this function is, first and foremost, mathematical: Husserl’s emphasis is on the ’continua of retentions’ and his analysis is supported by a ’geometric figuration referring . . . to mathematical continuity’ (275). Attending to the mathematical basis of Husserl’s concept has significant consequences for our understanding of retention:

Everything indicates that retention is a sort of infinitesimal operator capable of giving us, by the path of a dynamic production, the linear continuum. As such, retention is a paradoxical concept,because the referential form of retention would seem to express [dire] the discrete polarity of a retaining and a retained [d'un retenir et d'un retenu], while it is a question of qualifying, not the intentional content [la visée] of a past that is discrete from the present, but that of an adherent past. Otherwise put, the concept of retention reintegrates into itself [reprend Ã son comte] the paradoxicality which could have been that of the Leibnizian infinitessimal dx. (Salanskis, 2000: 275)

Before it comes to refer to the content of a just passing present (if indeed it ever does), retention is the operation that holds or ’glues’ the past together: the intentional content [la visée] of an adherent past.Accordingly, it is fundamentally nondiscrete and almost certainly nonconscious (beneath the threshold of what can be experienced phenomenologically).

For our purposes, the crucial implication of Salanskis’s criticism is that Stiegler’s (radicalization of Derrida’s) deconstruction of Husserl’s conceptualization of time-consciousness simply does not have any bearing on primary retention, or perhaps more exactly, on the primary function of primary retention (to give the linear continuum). In his argument for the priority of tertiary memory over secondary memory and primary retention, what Stiegler forgets is that primary retention is not simply constituted by but is also constitutive of time: it is simultaneously constituted and constituting.19 It is this constituted-constituting distinction that stands behind Salanskis’s differentiation of a referential and an adherent form of primary retention, for once constituted, retention (like secondary memory) belongs to the realm of the discrete.That is why, in the place of Husserl’s opposition of impression and imagination which forms the focus of Derrida’s (and, by implication, Stiegler’s) deconstruction, Salanskis proposes to differentiate primary retention (proper) from secondary memory by way of the distinction between the continuous and the discrete: ’what permits the Husserlian conception of time, notably in the distinction it proposes and institutes between primary memory and secondary memory, is the heterogeneous thematization of the continuous and the discrete: if retention is the infinitessimal operator that produces the continuous, secondary memory is the second modality that takes piecemeal [prélève] and manipulates the phases each of which becomes discrete in relation to others, and thereby repeatable’ (276). Such an understanding furnishes precisely the phenomenological distinction Derrida calls for, since it allows (indeed requires) primary retention to be differential, that is, open to the absence at the heart of presence, while still managing to differentiate it categorically from secondary memory.

It is because Stiegler makes no such differentiation – and indeed, destroys the very possibility of making any such differentiation – that he finds himself able (perhaps even compelled) to hang everything on the technical synthesis. For without the time-constituting function of retention (retention as productive of the linear continuum), where else can he turn to account for the giving of time but to the technical inscription of time? Bluntly put, Stiegler’s overvaluation of the technical synthesis correlates directly with his forgetting of the time-constituting function of retention. What happens, however, when we restore the primary function of primary retention to produce the continuum of time? Can and how can we do so while continuing to maintain, with Stiegler, the originary technicity of time?

These questions return us to the point we reached at the end of Section I. Inserted into the final reckoning we offered there, Salanskis’s critique gives us the conceptual distinction we need to maintain a separation of the human and the technical (following Derrida’s injunction) – and thus to ward off the assimilation of the spectatorial into the technical synthesis – while nonetheless embracing the necessity for specificity or the technical contamination of différance and the ensuing eclipse of the phenomenological (following Stiegler). From the perspective opened by Salanskis’s distinction, in short, the phenomenological indistinction of technically-inscribed and spectatorial time constitutive of the artifactuality of real time (precisely what is responsible both for the industrialization of consciousness and the eclipse of phenomenology), has no impact whatsoever on the nonconscious and nondiscrete operation of primary retention (the production of the continuum of time). What this means, of course, is that primary retentionwould continue to function differentially even when its operation is constrained by the contemporary technical specification of différance (the realtime synthesis).

With the determination of primary retention as an infinitesimal operation, we arrive at a solution to the impasse underlying the Derrida-Stiegler debate: for we can now see that the effacement of the phenomenological actually designates the fact that différance no longer appears as discrete.20 Yet because retention, as an infinitesimal operation, is something that cannot be effaced, it must operate, as we have already said it does, beneath the threshold of phenomenological consciousness. And because it operates beneath the threshold of the discrete, in the continuous, primary retention becomes all the more central in its function in a culture, like that of our audiovisual or ’cinematic’ epoch, that institutionalizes the discrete. In this sense, the threatened collapse of the distinction between human and technical syntheses turns out to be a red herring, the forestalling of which does not require a quasi-transcendental leap into the aporia of time or even an experimental program of digital discretization. Instead, the non-identification of these syntheses is guaranteed by the infinitesimal operation of primary retention – an operation which, in addition to being non-discrete and non-conscious, is grounded in the differential of the body, in a kind of ’transcendental sensibility’, to invoke Deleuze’s important and difficult concept, that would mark the very impossibility of transcendence (Deleuze, 1994).

By way of unpacking this understanding of primary retention as the differential of the body, I want now to offer an alternative conception of the transduction of the who and the what, consciousness and technics,that would find its source in the continuous, which is to say, there where technics enters into – and can be seen to be co-constititive of – the infinitesimal operation of bodily temporalizing. In the context of my topic here, this conception will allow me to specify more precisely how the confrontation with deconstruction transforms cultural studies into technocultural studies, for it will show how culture is produced through the transduction of technics and embodiment that is constitutive of time.

Let us return to the topic of the specificity of our ’cinematic’ epoch and recall what, on Stiegler’s analysis, differentiates it qualitatively, categorically, from the linguistic epoch: namely, the capacity to inscribe the movement of life, the movement constitutive of life, indeed, life itself. While this capacity informs the entirety of the phenomenon of technical recording from photography and phonography onward, it is in today’s digital teletechnologies that it comes to full fruition. Because they permit the technical discretization of movement, digital technologies inscribe it in a way that can be analyzed and technically manipulated. At the same time, however, digital technologies fundamentally transform the relation between bodily life and its technical inscription: for whereas analog technical recording inscribed an actual impression of the body itself, digital technologies convert bodily movement into digital code. Technical inscription no longer constitutes a ’carnal medium’, as Barthes characterized photography in Camera Lucida; there, remember, he famously claimed that ’the photograph is literally an emanation of the referent. For from a real body, which was there, proceed radiations which ultimately touch me, who am here. . . . A sort of umbilical cord links the body of the photographed thing to my gaze: light, though impalpable, is here a carnal medium, a skin I share with anyone who has been photographed’ (Barthes, 1981: 80-81). Yet even as it suspends this carnal link with the referent, digital recording of movement brings to the fore the more complex correlation of bodily activity and technical object that was, in effect, repressed so long as the apparatus of technical recording functioned to enframe the image.21 Thus, at the same time as it gives the possibility to analyze movement, digital discretization also brings into relief the bodily basis of the synthesis of movement, that is, precisely what makes the bodily experience of (recorded) movement qualitatively different from discretization. This irreducibility of bodily synthesis to discrete analysis finds corroboration in the difficulties facing the establishment of a ’science of gesturology’.

As the philosopher José Gil has pointed out in his important study Metamorphoses of the Body, the failure of all efforts to grammatize gesture should convince us of the irreducible and indispensible bodily basis of the experience of movement: ’every gesture can have multiple meanings by itself. . .. In other words, each unit, each ’gesteme’ brings into play each time all the gestemes of the langue as well as language itself as the unit of all the units (the body). This is reason enough for it to be prevented from taking on the role of linguistic model for any future ”gesturology”‘ (Gil, 1998: 114-115). The problem, to put it bluntly, is that no gestural unity can be isolated, and the comparison of a potential ’gesturology’ with linguistics suggests at least three reasons why: first, the gestural continuum, unlike that of sound in the case of articulated language, ’presupposes articulation of heterogeneous elements, some imbricated in each other: phalanges, fingers, forearms, arms, and so on’; second, the ’natural language’ of the body defines ’a polysemic space’; and third, one can only separate signifier from signified, in the case of signs of the body, ’at the price of gathering up and ordering these signs in a determined language, a corporeal language like that of dance or mime’ (113). What gets reduced as a consequence – which is equally to say, what remains outside the grasp of any possible gesturology – are precisely the body’s own system of signs, the ’signifier units [of the body] which in themselves remain nonsignifying’ (113). That is why, ultimately, any notational system whatsoever, including those ’advanced notation systems’ that have been so useful in ethnological descriptions of gesture, involve a ’strange paradox: setting out to translate all the movements of the body through a determinate code’ (112). The effort to reduce the range of gesture to any specific notational system (as in dance or mime) necessarily overlooks what Gil calls the ’infralinguistic’ capacity of the body to translate among various codes or notational systems in relation to which it is ’more originary’ (113).

If Gil is right that there can be no ’corporeal language’, no grammatization of movement, because the body is itself an infralanguage, a crossroads of multiple codings, then the technical capacity afforded by digital technology to analyze movement into discrete units supports an experimental program significantly different from the one proposed by Stiegler: rather than transforming the spectatorial synthesis by means of a conscious knowledge of its technical conditions, the digital inscription of movement must be understood to be a vehicle for the expanded agency of the body, for the becoming-creative of the bodily synthesis of movement. Can it be fortuitous that Stiegler himself seems to acknowledge as much when he considers how the process of digital analysis reenters the bodily synthesis of movement?

. . . because synthesis is double, the gain in new analytic capacities is also a gain in new synthetic capacities. . . . new image-objects are going to engender new mental images, as well as another intelligence of movement, for it is essentially a question of animated images. The intelligence I’m talking about here is not the intelligence of what I called the new knowledges of the image. It designates techno-intuitive knowledges – intentions in the Barthesian sense – of a new kind. . .. (Stiegler, 2002: 159, 162)

This differentiation of analytic and synthetic capacities highlights precisely the non-coincidence of the technical inscription that analyses movement into discrete components and the subjective synthesis that operates at the level of the continuity characteristic of bodily life. With this redirection of the experimental program facilitated by digitization, we are thus returned once again to Derrida’s ethical insistence on maintaining a distinction between technical conditions and phenomenological experience, only now through an infraempirical, rather than transcendental, path. Here, what prevents the subjective synthesis from collapsing into the technical synthesis is its basis in a temporal continuum that is produced by the spatializing and temporalizing of the body as an infinitesimal operation. Accordingly, whatever creative potential discretization may in fact hold simply cannot be separated from the distinct process of bodily synthesis that functions to actualize it, to bring it to bear on experience.

Now, as I see it, this infraempirical distinction between technical and spectatorial synthesis opens up a distinction between two levels at which technics impacts on the constitution of time: the level of memory and that of embodiment. Putting it quite schematically, we might say that the former is characterized by a priority of the technical, whereas the latter displays a priority of the spectatorial (or better, of the bodily). Thus we can see that this distinction crosscuts Stiegler’s work in the sense that the former, mnemotechnical constitution of time correlates with cinematic continuity (and finds its exemplary instance in the realtime synthesis), whereas the latter, corporo-technical constitution of time aligns (following our suggested transformations) with digital discretization. In the former instance, the synthesis of consciousness is passive and finds its content dictated by the industrialized technical flux, whereas in the latter, the bodily synthesis of movement is catalyzed and potentially expanded by the technical capacity for analysis.

It cannot come as a total surprise, then, that Stiegler introduces something vaguely akin to the distinction between the memorial and the embodied impact of technics in the very center of his analysis, in Le temps du cinéma, of ’the American politics of adoption’:

The question to which the force of America bears witness and that Europe doesn’t know how to pose is the question concerning what links adoption and technics [technique] – a link that America has always known how to make, that is to say, to exploit. What makes the force of the United States is displayed by the fact that it has a true politics of mnemotechnical development that is its politics of adoption insofar as it has served for decades a culture of commerce in all its forms. . .. Adoption yields [donne] invention because the necessity of adopting a past that has not been lived is indissociable from the necessity of adopting technologies [techniques]. (Stiegler, 2001: 179-180, last emphasis added)

At this point in his argument, Stiegler appears to be coupling his concept of tertiary memory (and all that goes along with it under the name of ’epiphylogenesis’) with a quite different concept of adoption: one that, at least potentially, would foreground the impact of technology at the level of embodied life. Here (in contrast to the account given in ’The Time of the Cinema’) the force of the American way of life is explained not simply by its monopoly over the global realtime cinema system, but by its capacity to control the dissemination of technics itself. However, whatever potential this distinction might have to open Stiegler’s analysis of technics to a corporeal axiomatic will have always already been compromised by his general assimilation, manifest in the passage just cited, of technics to mnemotechnics.22 As we will see,from the moment that this assimilation comes into play, technics can only impact time as discrete, which is to say, in the form of tertiary memory, of a content whose adoption functions to ground (but also to reduce) the operation of primary retention. We will further see how this constitutes a massive impoverishment of the function of technics and, thus, of the technogenesis of the human.

Stiegler’s critics have criticized this priority accorded mnemotechnics as a fundamental reduction of Heidegger’s concept of Zuhandenheit ['readiness-to-hand']. Geoffrey Bennington, for example, accuses Stiegler of employing ’too restrictive a definition of what Heidegger calls equipment: even taking it to mean primarily tools, it is clear that a tool is not just a sort of memory’ (Bennington, 1996: 212, n.34).23 It is,however, to Husserl that we must return in order to properly differentiate these two models of technical impact. This is because the salient distinction at issue is precisely that between the continuous and the discrete and thus between the two types of retention categorically distinguished by Salanskis: the impact of technics on embodied life can only take place within primary retention understood as an infinitesimal operation, whereas its impact on memory involves a ’referential form’ of retention that introduces a ’discrete polarity’ between a retaining and a retained. Whether we understand this latter as a form of retention proper (Salanskis, for his part, considers it part of the ’paradoxical concept’ of retention), it is clear that it shares with secondary memory the form of the discrete. On this understanding, then, Stiegler’s mnemotechnical reduction can be specified as the assimilation of the continuous into the discrete.

Indeed, it is precisely this assimilation that Stiegler’s concept of tertiary memory carries out: insofar as tertiary memory (the recording of traces never lived by present consciousness) gives access to the tradition or the past, it not only impacts on the selection constitutive of primary retention, but constitutes the very possibility of discovering that primary retention is selective, which is to say (following Stiegler), essentially cinematographic. From Stiegler’s perspective, this means that Derrida’s deconstruction of primary retention actually requires the concept of tertiary memory: for it is only the experience of hearing (or viewing)the same melody (or scene) more than once – an experience made possible by technical recording (tertiary memory) – that reveals the contamination of primary retention by secondary memory. For our purposes, what is most interesting about this argument is how it transforms primary retention into something essentially discrete:

I listen for the first time to a melody recorded on a phonographic, analog or digital support. I listen again to the same melody, later, on the same record. To all intents and purposes, in the new audition, the tone just now past, in so far as it constitutes a primary retention to which other primary retentions are tacked on, in so far as it passes, no longer passes and no longer occurs in exactly the same way as in the course of the first audition. Otherwise, I would hear nothing other than what I heard during the first audition. The tone just now past, attached to other tones just past before it, and this time that passes differently than the first, owes something, in its very passage, to the previous passage, apparently effaced, of the previous audition: its modification (passing, the retention is modified and thereby becomes past: retention qua passage is essentially modification of itself) is rooted in the secondary memory of the first audition. What I hear in the course of the second audition proceeds in act from what I have already heard, in the past. (Stiegler, 1998a: 72)

By conceiving primary retention as a process of selection, Stiegler conflates the experience of the flux of time-consciousness itself with the temporal object that (within the Husserlian model) comprises its necessary supplement. Recalling our above discussion, we can now see that this theoretical conflation underlies and perhaps overdetermines the conflation of consciousness and temporal object constitutive of the artifactuality of real time. And since the temporal object (more precisely: the difference between temporal objects, between a first and subsequent auditions of a melody) can only be understood to be the result of selection, he thereby effectively determines primary retention as discrete. Yet, as I have argued elsewhere, this is to ignore the double intentionality of primary retention: its simultaneous existence as the consciousness of the temporal object and of the temporal flux itself (Hansen, 2004a). Mobilizing Salanskis’s articulation of the paradox of retention, I can now be more precise about this: Stiegler’s position ignores the difference between retention as referential and as adherent, which is to say, between retention as a discrete intentional act of consciousness and retention as a nonconscious, bodily production of the continuous. If consciousness is cinematographic in the former case, this is only possible on the basis of the infinitesimal operation of the bodily differential.

What ultimately informs Stiegler’s mnemotechnical reduction of primary retention to selection is his general overvaluation of technics, his desire to ground time exclusively in technical inscription or registration.Having rejected Derrida’s recourse to the quasi-transcendental in favor of a genealogy of matter, Stiegler nonetheless finds himself swayed by Derrida’s insistence on thinking the origin as aporetic, as never simply given. This is why he finds himself compelled, most centrally in The Fault of Epimetheus, to criticize the anthropological commitments of Leroi-Gourhan’s and Simondon’s work:in both cases the fundamental correlation of anticipation with the human risks compromising the concept of ’originary prostheticity’ (the concept that would replace the quasi-transcendental). This criticism appears most decisively in the concluding lines of Part I of The Fault of Epimetheus, where Stiegler cites Simondon’s foregrounding of the irreducible role of human intelligence in creating a ’technogeographic milieu’ between humanity and nature. This creation, argues Simondon, ’demands the use of an inventive function of anticipation found neither in nature nor in already constituted technical objects’ (Simondon, 1958: 57). In his comment on the passage, Stiegler goes on to credit Simondon with opening ’the question at the heart of our treatise’, though in a purely negative sense: ’We shall seek to show here that this capacity of anticipation [that Simondon would reserve for the "human qua efficient cause of the technical object"] itself supposes the technical object, and no more precedes it than does form matter’ (Stiegler, 1998: 81).

Viewed from the perspective presented above, the opposition Stiegler institutes between the anthropological and the technical simply dissolves. This is because the infinitesimal operation of primary retention can only ever produce infraempirical difference (bodily excess) through its actual concrete correlation with technical objects at a given moment in the coevolution of the human and technics. The necessity here simply is not (and cannot be) of the order of the transcendental or quasi-transcendental. That is why, at a more general level, the infraempirical conception of the differential of the body requires us to distinguish the technical from the anthropological at the same time as it recognizes their essential correlation in a transduction that is constitutive of time.

Precisely such a differentiation and co-functioning of the anthropological and the technical lies at the core of the concept of ’organized inorganic matter’, which Stiegler introduces (as a gloss on Simondon’s understanding of technology) to account for the autonomy of the ’what’. We must insist on the specificity of this concept of technics: organized inorganic matter forms a third category of being in-between the animate and the inanimate and is distinguished by a quasi-biological tendency toward concreteness: ’the concrete technical object . . . converges with the mode of existence of natural objects; it tends toward internal coherence, toward the closure of the system of causes and effects which functions circularly on the inside of its borders [àl'interieur de son enceinte], and moreover, it incorporates a part of the natural world which intervenes as a condition of its functioning. . .. This object, in evolving, loses its artificial character’ (Simondon, 1958: 46), which is to say, its dependence on the intervention of human beings to preserve its existence and protect it from the natural world. While maintaining a distinction from living beings, which are always given as concrete individuals even as they continue to be individuated, the technical object operates through self-conditioning, which in its case, is necessary to prevent it from falling victim to the tendency to hypertelia and disadaptation.24 Simondon calls the mechanism for such self-conditioning’adaptation-concretization’, defined as a process that conditions the birth of a milieu rather than being conditioned by an already given milieu:

The evolution of technical objects can only become progressive in so far as they are free in their evolution and not bound by necessity in the sense of a fatal hypertelia. For this to be possible, the evolution of technical objects must be constructive, which is to say, it must lead to the creation of this third techno-geographic milieu, each modification of which is self-conditioned. It is not, in effect,a question of a progression conceived as a march in a direction fixed in advanced; nor is it a question of a humanization of nature. This process could just as easily appear as a naturalization of the human; between the human and nature, a techno-geographic milieu is in effect created that is only possible through human intelligence: the self-conditioning of a schema by the result of its functioning requires an inventive function of anticipation which can be found neither in nature nor in already constituted technical objects. It is a work of life to make such a jump above given reality and its actual system toward new forms that preserve themselves only because they exist all together as a constituted system. When a new organ appears in an evolutionary series, it preserves itself only if it achieves a systematic and plurifunctional convergence. The organ is the condition of itself. It is in a similar manner that the geographic world and the world of already existent technical objects are put into relation [rapport] in a concretization that is organic and is defined by its relational function. (1958: 56)

Now, contra Stiegler, what is at issue here is not a subordination of technics to the ’human qua efficient force’, but rather, as Simondon says, a ’naturalization of the human’ via its exteriorization in the ’techno-geographic milieu’. Whatever ’possibility of anticipation’ originally informed the evolution of technical objects has therefore passed into the technical system itself; this, quite simply, is the condition of possiblity for the system to become ’organic’, that is, generative of a new milieu and of technical objects that are not already constituted. Not insignificantly, it is also the condition of possibility for the techno-geographic milieu to evolve, as Stiegler suggests it has with today’s real time technologies, by encompassing ’human geography’.25 Which is to say, at the limit, to evolve beyond the ethnic, beyond culture.

What Simondon depicts then is a co-evolution between two independently-evolving domains, the technical and the human, each of which possesses its own proper capacity for anticipation. If this co-evolution facilitates an exteriorization of the human, its evolution by means other than life (following Stiegler’s important concept of ’epiphylogenesis’), it does so in a manner fundamentally different from Stiegler’s conception of tertiary memory. For technical objects are not simply ’mediations’ that are ’detachable from the individual who produces and thinks them’. Rather, they form the very medium for a ’convertibility of the human and nature’ (Simondon, 1958: 245). Technical objects put individuals in relation to the ’preindividual’ dimension of nature that is associated with them. In this way, they make possible the constitution of what Simondon calls ’transindividuation’, a form of collective individuation that draws precisely on the constitutive incompleteness of the individual, the very source of anticipation and of the creation of the new:

. . .the technical world offers an indefinite availability [disponibilité] of groupings and connections. For it is the result of a liberation of human reality crystallized in the technical object. To construct a technical object is to prepare an availability. . . . beyond the interindividual relation which is not maintained through an operational activity, a mental and practical universe of technicity is instituted,in which human beings communicate through what they invent. The technical object understood according to its essence – the technical object such that it has been invented, conceived and desired,and taken up by a human subject – becomes the support and the symbol of that relation we want to call transindividual. . . . By the intermediary of the technical object, an interhuman relation is thus created that forms the very model of transindividuality. What is meant by this is a relation that does not place individuals into relation by means of their already constituted individuality. . ., nor by means of what is identical in every human subject, . . . but by means of the charge of preindividual reality, of this charge of nature that is conserved with the individual being and that contains potentials and virtuality. (1958: 246-248)

Far from constituting a prosthetic exteriorization of the human, the technical object forms something like a depositary for the preindividual. That is why it offers a means for the human individual to draw on the very source of its own ongoing individuation. The crucial point here is that the collective individuation which results from the human experience of its own impropriety or excess – transindividuation – is fundamentally inseparable from technics. Accordingly, the capacity for anticipation that Stiegler would have Simondon reserve for the human operator can now be seen to be rooted in a correlation with technics that is pre-anthropological: ’The object yielded by technical invention carries with it some part of the being who produced it, expresses what in this being is least attached to a hic et nunc; one could say that there is human nature in the technical being in the sense that the word nature can be employed to designate that which remains from the original, anterior even to the humanity constituted in the human. The human invents by putting to work its own natural support, this apeiron which remains attached to each individual being’ (248, emphasis added). Technics is the invention of the human, as Stiegler says, but in a far more fundamental sense than he recognizes: for technics is the means for the human to draw on its preindividual, natural support, which is to say, to persist as an ongoing individuation and to participate in collective transindividuation. Technics thus brokers the experience of the aporia of the origin as a continuous, infraempirical interaction with the ’potentials and virtuality’ of being itself.

That transindividuation marks a technical expansion of the infraempirical differential of the body can be seen by way of contrast with Stiegler’s interpretation of the ’preindividual’ in Le temps du cinéma. There,not surprisingly, he defines the preindividual as tertiary memory: ’This ”charge of preindividual reality” is a potential for adoption. The process of individuation results from an irreducible inadequation at the heart of the individual, in so far as it is unfinished [inachevé], but also as a play of ”preindividual forces” in the individual, that is to say, of interiorized and interpretable tertiary retentions that are equally at play in social individuation. . .. The preindividual thus interpreted (which does not conform to Simondon’s interpretation) is what we have called the already-there. . .’ (Stiegler, 2001: 148-149).26 When he likens the preindividual to the already-there or tertiary memory, Stiegler effectively transforms something fundamentally continuous into something discrete, preindividual ’forces’ or ’potentials’ into constituted contents. In so doing, he severs the ’convertibility’ of the human and nature that, on Simondon’s account, marks the pre-anthropological correlation of the human and technics.

As I see it, this pre-anthropological correlation is precisely what makes Simondon’s work valuable for the (techno)cultural theorist: for what it ultimately posits is a cofunctioning of the embodied human and technics in the production of the temporal continuum that forms the basis for life as such, from the biological to the cultural. Here technics is nothing other than the human experience of the differential origin of life as such. On this account, transindividuation would be the basis for culture, that is, for a culture that does not institute itself by opposing the human and the technical, but that, following Simondon’s concept of’mechanology’, emerges from their transduction. If such a transindividual culture is characterized by a technical expansion of the infinitesimal operation of primary retention, its primary function cannot be to transmit the past on the basis of tertiary memory, but rather to create the new, the future, by drawing on that dimension of being which is prior to the human and to technics. In the wake of this thinking, the task of the (techno)cultural theorist must be, first and foremost, to find ways to participate in transindividuation, to become together with technics, to engage in mediations by and with technical objects that place the human in relation to the inhuman, the improper, the preindividual. . .

Coda

Let me close by simply enumerating two fundamental consequences of my transformation of Stiegler’s work for the analysis of media culture.

First, analysis will have to move beyond the ethnic and/or ethnographic and culture will have to be rethought as a product of technics, with all the attendent modifications to its conceptualization. The collective individuation Simondon calls ’transindividuation’ operates through the technical mobilization of that in us which is impersonal, which exceeds the human and the forms of life that we might think of as ethnic or cultural. This is one of the crucial conclusions at stake in Stiegler’s reading of Leroi-Gourhan:

We can ask whether today the technical groups still belong to the ethnic group, or if they may not extend well beyond it, to the point of calling its unity into question. . .. It is as if the technical groups tended to become autonomous with respect to the ethnic groups, owing to the very fact that techno-industrial units have become worldwide. . . . the technical group then gains an advance with respect to the ethnic group to the extent that, as is the case today – with technical evolution accelerating and becoming too fast for the possibilities of appropriation by the ’other systems’ – one must wonder if we might not be in the presence of a separation and progressive opposition between, on the one hand, cultures, or an ensemble of interior milieus, and on the other hand technologies, which are no longer only a subgroup of the technical milieu but the external milieu become worldwide technology: the dilution of the interior milieu into the exterior milieu has become essentially technical, firstly as an environment totally mediated by telecommunications, by modes of transportation as well as by television and radio, computer networks, and so on, whereby distances are annuled, but secondly as a system of planet-scale industrial production. (Stiegler, 1998: 62)

This perspective opens up a fundamentally new task for the analyst of the ’transnational media system’: for once media technology has usurped the role formerly held by culture of providing the common, the global media system can no longer be localized and specified through its cultural configuration or use. Rather, it can form the very ground for new, to-be-invented forms of collective life precisely because of its resistance to the kinds of empirical specification championed by today’s cultural studies practitioners.

Second and more generally, analysis will have to become performance, a creative experimentation with the possibilities for our future technogenesis. For if the adoption of technologies and the technical expansion of primary retention becomes central, then technologies cannot be restricted to the status of things that we deploy or even to that of a repository for tradition (tertiary memory). Rather, insofar as they directly expand our embodied capacities to act on ourselves, on others, and on the world, technologies can only be adequately ’understood’ in their very exercise as transductive correlates of human becoming.What this means, however, is that cultural studies must become embodied experimentation.

Endnotes

1 Most prominently from Geoffrey Bennington:

Stiegler differs from Derrida in that he thinks that technics is the proper name for the newness already there at the origin (for the emergency) – as we shall see, this leads him to a principled and argued difference of opinion with Derrida which, however, commits Stiegler . . . to a positivism (about techno-science) and a humanism (about ’us’) which loses the very urgency it urges, and loses it through the very fact of urging it on a totalised ’us’ as the totalisation of urgency itself. (Bennington, 1996: 182)

According to Beardsworth, there are moments when Stiegler’s work seems to fall into positivism, but these are more lapses in rigor than conceptual entailments of his work (Beardsworth, 1995).

2 See Hansen (2000), Introduction, for a critique of the positivization of deconstruction in cultural studies.

3 While it would be a mistake to oversimplify the role of Marxism for cultural studies, it can be affirmed, I think, that cultural studies operates a certain inversion of the priority of the economic over the cultural in Marx. While this would seem to be true for cultural studies in general (a blanket term now embracing many different projects), it appears most clearly when cultural studies practitioners address the topic of Marxism directly. Thus Stuart Hall:

. . .the encounter between British cultural studies and Marxism has first to be understood as the engagement with a problem – not a theory, not even a problematic. It begins, and develops through the critique of a certain reductionism and economism, which I think is not extrinsic but intrinsic to Marxism; a contestation with the model of base and superstructure, through which sophisticated and vulgar Marxism alike had tried to think the relationships between society, economy, and culture. (Hall, 1992: 279)

4 As, for example, Ang does: ’What a critical ethnography of media audiences needs to ferret out, then, is the unrecognized, unconscious and contradictory effectivity of the hegemonic within the popular, the relations of power that are inscribed within the texture of reception practices’ (Ang, 1996: 245).

5 For discussion of this paradox, see Beardsworth (1995: 4). Beardsworth’s paper focuses on the first volume of Stiegler’s project and should be consulted for readers interested in his appropriations of Leroi-Gourhan and Rousseau and, more generally, in the philosophical infrastructure of his project. My analysis here treats the material from volume one only insofar as it bears on the problematic of realtime media.

6 Stiegler makes this equation explicit later in his analysis: ’It would be necessary, moreover, to analyze the relation of différance to speed: différance is itself also a conjunction of space and time more originary than their separation. It is in this sense, then, that différance will, perhaps, have to be though as speed’ (1998: 146).

7 While this becomes clear from the range of Stiegler’s analysis, it is unfortunately belied by the often narrow focus on cinema as a concrete apparatus.

8 Stiegler’s argument here is complex and involves a crucial transformation of Husserl’s theory of time-consciousness. Extending Derrida’s own deconstruction of Husserl’s distinction between primary retention and recollection (or secondary retention), Stiegler introduces a distinction between these two interdependent memories and what he calls ’tertiary memory’ (a gloss on Husserl’s ’image-consciousness’): just as Derrida undermines the opposition between perception and imagination in Husserl’s conception, and with it, the opposition of presence to absence, Stiegler undermines the opposition between that which has been lived by a subject and that which has not. As he sees it, tertiary memories – meaning, basically, all experience that has been recorded and is reproducible – represent our means of inheriting the past, the prosthetic already-there, and, for this reason, actually condition the other two forms of memory. Stiegler emphasizes the technical specificity of tertiary memory, for it is only once consciousness has the capacity to experience the exact same recorded experience more than once that we can appreciate how secondary retention (the memory of the first or earlier experience(s)) influences a subsequent primary retention.In the context of Husserl’s analysis of time-consciousness, the philosophical payoff of Stiegler’s analysis is thus to level any absolute distinctions between primary retention, secondary memory, and tertiary memory and in fact to invert the hierarchy proposed by Husserl such that it istertiary memory that introduces secondary memory into primary retention. This move involves two specific critical ’corrections’ of Husserl’s analysis, which are themselves conjugated together in Stiegler’s analysis of contemporary media technology. (Here Stiegler follows and, as we shall see, extends in a crucial manner, Derrida’s analysis in Speech and Phenomenon). On the one hand, Stiegler contests the fundamental opposition of perception and imagination on which Husserl’s important differentiation of primary retention from secondary memory (or recollection) is rooted. On the other hand, Stiegler contests Husserl’s blanket exclusion of ’image-consciousness’ (tertiary memory) from time-consciousness. (Here, Stiegler follows Derrida’s analysis in Husserl’s Origin of Geometry: An Introduction, which to an extent – but only to an extent – converges with the evolution of Husserl’s own thinking.) In both cases, Stiegler’s criticisms involve a questioning of the primacy accorded the category of the lived [vecu] in Husserl’s analysis. Moreover, the two corrections are, not surprisingly, themselves intrinsically correlated, since it is precisely in virtue of the absolute distinction between perception and imagination that Husserl is able to exclude image-consciousness from the phenomenon of time-consciousness.

9 Jean-Michel Salanskis makes this point in his generous review of Stiegler’s project:

I wonder if the analysis of light-time and of its effects would not have gained from being differentiated according to its contexts: there is an impact of light-time on the financial sector or on nuclear disuasion that is not the same as its impact on communication, on the television, telephone and informatics. A part of the picture that Stiegler proposes rings false to my ears because he transposes to the world of communicational exchange, a world largely hierarchized but free and concerned with the freedom of the Who?, a vision that is forged in relation to the financial economy and war,those vast and complex functions that are fundamentally not concerned with us. (Salanskis, 2000: 274)

Failure to recognize this difference has resulted in misunderstandings (understandable given Stiegler’s own failure to mark the difference) concerning the sense of ’realtime’. See Wills (unpublished).

10 For a critique of Kittler’s technodeterminism, see Hansen (2002).

11 On Kittler’s account, by contrast, everything is subsumed into realtime computing with the result that human sense perception, human consciousness, and subjectivity become a ’dependent variable’ of digital information processing, mere epiphenomena or ’eyewash’ attesting to the continued economic viability of entertainment rather than to any fundamental correlation of the human and technics (Kittler, 1999:Introduction). The comparison with Kittler helps specify the crucial correlation Stiegler introduces between storage media and memory. Whereas Kittler views technical media reductively as mere storage vehicles for information, Stiegler interweaves the history of storage media (of the what) with the evolution of consciousness (the who). Rather than achieving the kind of autonomy projected in Hollywood fantasies like The Matrix, storage media co-evolve with the human precisely because they represent the means of access to the tradition, the very vehicle for the human to evolve through means other than life, which is to say, for the human to become human.

12 On the Husserlian model, time-consciousness, that is, consciousness of the self existing in time, can only occur indirectly, through the mediation of a special kind of technical object, what Husserl calls a temporal object. A temporal object – Husserl’s preferred example is a melody – is an object that does not simply exist in time but that is constituted from time itself. By updating Husserl’s analysis and transposing its focus from a melody heard by a single consciousness in private to a cinematic flux experienced by a local or global collectivity, Stiegler gives it a geopolitical inflection, one that correlates with his argument for the technical specificity of the ’cinematic’ era.

13 In the course of his debate with Stiegler, Derrida links artifactuality to the nature of time itself, which can only (and ever) be differential:

. . .there is never an absolutely real time. What we call real time . . . is in fact never pure. What we call real time is simply an extremely reduced ’différance,’ but there is no purely real time because temporalization itself is structured by a play of retention or of protention and, consequently, of traces: the condition of possibility of the living, absolutely real present is already memory, anticipation,in other words, a play of traces. The real-time effect is itself a particular effect of différance’. (Derrida & Stiegler, 2002: 129)

14 Here is a typical passage, indeed one where Derrida formulates his aporetic thinking concerning specificity:

This specificity, whatever it may be, does not all of a sudden substitute the prosthesis, teletechnology, etc., for immediate or natural speech. These machines have always been there, they are always there, even when we wrote by hand, even during so-called live conversation. And yet, the greatest compatibility, the greatest coordination, the most vivid of possible affinities seems to be asserting itself, today, between what appears to be most alive, most live [in English in the original], and the différance or delay, the time it takes to exploit, broadcast or distribute it. (Derrida &Stiegler, 2002: 38)

15 On this point, I am in full agreement with Stiegler. Defined so broadly and abstractly, writing forms an empirical correlate to différance that paradoxically preserves the latter’s quasi-transcendentality, and not insignificantly, guards it against technical contamination: since only its empirical proxy, writing, is infected by technicity, différance can remain pure. For my critique of this abstract, singular conception of différance, see Hansen (2000), Chapter 4.

16 In a passage where he finds it necessary to supplement Derrida’s insistence that real time marks the ’possibility of a quasi-infinite yet finite delay’ with a crucial (phenomenological) corollary:

in another and almost opposite respect, real time nullifies delays. Everything happens as if there were both an extraordinary opening of delay – and one would tend to think that this is an extraordinary opportunity [une grande chance] – and at the same time, a telescoping of all delay, an annulment, which gives the general sense, from which it seems to me that no one can escape,that the very possibility of reflexivity is compromised. (Derrida & Stiegler, 2002: 90)

17 This becomes explicit when Derrida, in response to a question about the politics of the ’cultural exception,’ invokes the ’categorical imperative . . . to let the future have a future, to let or make it come, or in any case, to leave the possibility of the future open’ (Derrida & Stiegler, 2002: 85).

18 Marking this distinction is the particular contribution of Gilles Deleuze, whose work clearly stands behind Salanskis’s analysis here and, in a less direct way, behind the appropriation-correction of Stiegler that I shall go on to offer here. See Deleuze (1994), Chapter 2.

19 This, incidentally, marks a fundamental difference between Stiegler’s retooling of Husserl’s temporal object and Derrida’s deconstruction of time consciousness in Speech and Phenomena: for Derrida, the salient point is that Husserl’s distinction of perception [impression] and imagination [memory] cannot hold up to scrutiny, since the living present is shot through with absence, i.e., retentions and protentions.Unlike Stiegler’s more radical criticism, Derrida’s does not challenge or displace the priority of primary retention as the operator of the spacing of time; it simply complicates the operation – or, put another way,renders it coherent – by opening it to the absence without which time could not continue to flow. Evidence for this difference can be found in Derrida’s insistence that, despite the deconstruction of the perception-memory divide, there is still an important phenomenological difference between primary and secondary retention. (On this point see Hansen (2004a).)

20 This, incidentally, is precisely what Salanskis means when he asks whether ’one can, in effect, correctly interpret the phenomena of speed without reference to the continuous?’ (2000: 277). If, to return to our above discussion, speed is différance today, that is because it has taken us beyond the threshold of the discrete.

21 This difference lies at the heart of my argument in New Philosophy for New Media (Hansen, 2004).

22 In the chapter immediately following in Le temps du cinéma, he makes this point explicitly:

. . .this independence of mnemotechnics from the technical system of production no longer exists today: in becoming planetary, the technical system is now also, and even foremost, a global mnemotechnical system. In a sense, a fusion between the technical system, the mnemotechnical system and globalisation has occurred. . . . If history can, and must, essentially be analysed as the relation between the evolution of technical systems and that of other social systems, what constitutes the problem of adjustment is that the analysis of mnemotechnics shows that the latter always overdetermines the conditions of this adjustment: namely, the process of adoption. . . . The global technical system has basically become a mnemotechnical system for the industrial production of tertiary retentions, and thus for criteria of retentional selection, of the flux of consciousness inscribed into the processes of adoption. (Stiegler, 2003: non-pag.)

23 This reduction is particularly paradoxical given that Zuhandenheit is the privileged Heideggerian category for Stiegler, as Beardsworth has pointed out:

Completely underestimated by Heidegger in his desire to understand the ’there’ in terms of Dasein’s self-affection, the ’ready-to-hand’ actually forms the originary relation between the human and the nonhuman prior to all metaphysical oppositions between the human and the technical (including that of Being and Time). It also articulates the ’facticity’ and ’nullity’ of Dasein in terms of originary prostheticity. In other words, for Stiegler, the ’there’ to which Dasein is ’called back’ should be articulated in terms of the originary relation between the human and the technical.(Beardsworth, 1996: 152)

24 Simondon understands the autonomy of technics in this sense: the margin of indetermination that is necessary to allow a given technology to enter into different ensembles and thus continue to evolve.

25 ’This ecological phenomenon [of the coupling of technical object and milieu] may be observed in the informational dimension of present-day technics, where it allows for the development of a generalized performativity (for example in the apparatuses of live transmission and of data processing in real time. . .) – but it is then essentially the human milieu, that is, human geography, and not physical geography,that is found to be incorporated into a process of concretization that should no longer be thought on the scale of the object, but also not on the scale of the system’ (Stiegler, 1998: 80).

26 Stiegler’s interpretation is developed more extensively in Stiegler (1998b).

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Stiegler, B. (1998) Technics and Time 1: The Fault of Epimetheus. Trans. R. Beardsworth & G. Collins. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

Stiegler, B. (1998a) ’The Time of Cinema: On the ”New World” and ”Cultural Exception”‘, Tekhnema: Journal of Philosophy and Technology 4.

Stiegler, B. (1998b) ’Temps et individuations technique, psychique et collective dans l’oeuvre de Simondon’, Intellectica 1-2..

Stiegler, B. (2001) La Techniquue et le temps 3: Le temps du cinéma et la question du mal-être. Paris: Galilée.

Stiegler, B. (2001a) ’Derrida and Technology: Fidelity at the Limits of Deconstruction and the Prosthesis of Faith,’ in T. Cohen (ed.), Jacques Derrida and the Humanities: A Critical Reader. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Stiegler, B. (2002) ’The Discrete Image’, in Echographies of Television. Trans J. Bajorek. Cambridge: Polity Press.

Stiegler, B. (2003) ’Our Ailing Educational Institutions’. Trans. S. Herbrechter. Culture Machine 5 http://culturemachine.tees.ac.uk/Articles/Stiegler.htm

Wills, D. (unpublished) ’Techneology or the Discourse of Speed’.

******** Ned ********

Nehdia Sameen

It was our good fortune to have had Ned graciously contribute here over the years and to have had her provide some of our most insightful commentaries. She was very special, her star was in the ascendent, her trajectory toward a prodigious future when suddenly her soul opened to the “world of light”.

 

The Fear of Life and Death

Sri Aurobindo

Death wanders through our lives at will, sweet Death
Is busy with each intake of our breath.
Why do you fear her? Lo, her laughing face
All rosy with the light of jocund grace !
A kind and lovely maiden culling flowers
In a sweet garden fresh with vernal showers,
This is the thing you fear, young portress bright
Who opens to our souls the worlds of light.
Is it because the twisted stem must feel
Pain when the tenderest hands its glory steal?
Is it because the flowerless stalk droops dull
And ghastly now that was so beautiful ?
Or is it the opening portal’s horrid jar
That shakes you, feeble souls of courage bare?
Death is but changing of our robes to wait
In wedding garments at the Eternal’s gate.

From Ned:

A Prayer for Darshan Day

by Nehdia Sameen

Om Sri Aurobindo Mirra!
Remove my personal preferences and limitations
That I may manifest Truth more perfectly.
Make me an expression of the Divine Presence in every activity
Let me be consumed by your perfectly detached and yet fully engaged Love
The Light that only the purest in soul can contact and manifest.
Let me be as the warrior Arjuna, the bride of Krishna
Slaying the ignorance within myself swiftly without hesitation or weakness
That I may no longer be a flute playing to the tune of its own illusions.
Transmute my perverse fear into benevolent courage
Widen my consciousness to include
the paths and aspirations of my companions in Life
Teach me the receptive Silence that bears the pain of others.
Let Death, my close friend, visit me again to slay my selfish narcissism
Again, and again — and again! Till the Flame within takes over my being
Till I am remade in Your Image.
Let the emotions subside, let the passions be silent!
Let reason quiver in humble subservience
As the lips repeat without fail: “Your Will, Your Will.”

In Memoriam

(From Simon Fraser University)

Nehdia Sameen, a PhD student in psychology, was born in Pakistan and completed her bachelor’s degree (Honours) in computer science at the Lahore University of Management Sciences.

She received a Fulbright award to pursue a master’s degree in psychology at New York University. When she applied to SFU’s PhD program, one of her NYU supervisors called her “the single most talented student I have worked with in my career thus far.”

She began her studies at SFU in Fall 2011, and displayed an exceptional passion for her work and its potential to make the world a better place. In her own words, she hoped “not merely to fully comprehend the human animal from a scientific perspective, but also to guide the development of balanced, civilized societies with sustainable institutions around the world.”

We’re deeply sorry to report that Nehdia passed away suddenly on Friday, June 15, of a brain haemorrhage.

Dr. Tim Racine, her graduate supervisor, says:

Nehdia Sameen embodied the sort of balance between head and heart that is critical in any person of excellence. She was also a consummate scholar who was not confined to one narrow research area or particular way of looking at things. What struck me the most about her was how much she had interwoven her personal and professional life.

I became fond of Nehdia quite quickly; her passion for her work and the world around us is a rare and beautiful thing. Nehdia leaves behind a variety of finished and unfinished work of very high quality. The people in my Department who knew and worked closely with Nehdia in the last year will miss her sorely. The people who had not yet become acquainted with Nehdia have lost the opportunity to know an exceptional human being.

An Award for Nehdia
Friends and family of Nehdia Sameen have established a memorial fund in her name. The fund will support an award for international students at SFU. To donate, visit www.sfu.ca/advancement/how_to_give.html and note that your gift is designated for ‘The Nehdia Sameen Memorial Fund’

The Duino Elegies

Rainer Marie Rilke

The Duino Elegies

The First Elegy

Whom if I cried out would hear me among the Angelic
Orders? And even if one were to suddenly
take me to its heart, I would vanish into its
stronger existence. For beauty is nothing but
the beginning of terror, that we are still able to bear,
and we revere it so, because it calmly disdains
to destroy us. Every Angel is terror.
And so I hold myself back and swallow the cry
of a darkened sobbing. Ah, who then can
we make use of? Not Angels: not men,
and the resourceful creatures see clearly
that we are not really at home
in the interpreted world. Perhaps there remains
some tree on a slope, that we can see
again each day: there remains to us yesterday’s street,
and the thinned-out loyalty of a habit
that liked us, and so stayed, and never departed.
Oh, and the night, the night, when the wind full of space
wears out our faces – whom would she not stay for,
the longed-for, gentle, disappointing one, whom the solitary heart
with difficulty stands before. Is she less heavy for lovers?
Ah, they only hide their fate between themselves.
Do you not know yet? Throw the emptiness out of your arms
to add to the spaces we breathe; maybe the birds
will feel the expansion of air, in more intimate flight.

Yes, the Spring-times needed you deeply. Many a star
must have been there for you so you might feel it. A wave
lifted towards you out of the past, or, as you walked
past an open window, a violin
gave of itself. All this was their mission.
But could you handle it? Were you not always,
still, distracted by expectation, as if all you experienced,
like a Beloved, came near to you? (Where could you contain her,
with all the vast strange thoughts in you
going in and out, and often staying the night.)
But if you are yearning, then sing the lovers: for long
their notorious feelings have not been immortal enough.
Those, you almost envied them, the forsaken, that you
found as loving as those who were satisfied. Begin,
always as new, the unattainable praising:
think: the hero prolongs himself, even his falling
was only a pretext for being, his latest rebirth.
But lovers are taken back by exhausted Nature
into herself, as if there were not the power
to make them again. Have you remembered
Gastara Stampa sufficiently yet, that any girl,
whose lover has gone, might feel from that
intenser example of love: ‘Could I only become like her?’
Should not these ancient sufferings be finally
fruitful for us? Isn’t it time that, loving,
we freed ourselves from the beloved, and, trembling, endured
as the arrow endures the bow, so as to be, in its flight,
something more than itself? For staying is nowhere.

Voices, voices. Hear then, my heart, as only
saints have heard: so that the mighty call
raised them from the earth: they, though, knelt on
impossibly and paid no attention:
such was their listening. Not that you could withstand
God’s voice: far from it. But listen to the breath,
the unbroken message that creates itself from the silence.
It rushes towards you now, from those youthfully dead.
Whenever you entered, didn’t their fate speak to you,
quietly, in churches in Naples or Rome?
Or else an inscription exaltedly impressed itself on you,
as lately the tablet in Santa Maria Formosa.
What do they will of me? That I should gently remove
the semblance of injustice, that slightly, at times,
hinders their spirits from a pure moving-on.

It is truly strange to no longer inhabit the earth,
to no longer practice customs barely acquired,
not to give a meaning of human futurity
to roses, and other expressly promising things:
no longer to be what one was in endlessly anxious hands,
and to set aside even one’s own
proper name like a broken plaything.
Strange: not to go on wishing one’s wishes. Strange
to see all that was once in place, floating
so loosely in space. And it’s hard being dead,
and full of retrieval, before one gradually feels
a little eternity. Though the living
all make the error of drawing too sharp a distinction.
Angels (they say) would often not know whether
they moved among living or dead. The eternal current
sweeps all the ages, within it, through both the spheres,
forever, and resounds above them in both.

Finally they have no more need of us, the early-departed,
weaned gently from earthly things, as one outgrows
the mother’s mild breast. But we, needing
such great secrets, for whom sadness is often
the source of a blessed progress, could we exist without them?
Is it a meaningless story how once, in the grieving for Linos,
first music ventured to penetrate arid rigidity,
so that, in startled space, which an almost godlike youth
suddenly left forever, the emptiness first felt
the quivering that now enraptures us, and comforts, and helps.

 

 

……

Die erste Elegie

Wer, wenn ich schriee, hörte mich denn aus der Engel
Ordnungen? und gesetzt selbst, es nähme
einer mich plötzlich ans Herz: ich verginge von seinem
stärkeren Dasein. Denn das Schöne ist nichts
als des Schrecklichen Anfang, den wir noch grade ertragen,
und wir bewundern es so, weil es gelassen verschmäht,
uns zu zerstören. Ein jeder Engel ist schrecklich.
Und so verhalt ich mich denn und verschlucke den Lockruf
dunkelen Schluchzens. Ach, wen vermögen
wir denn zu brauchen? Engel nicht, Menschen nicht,
und die findigen Tiere merken es schon,
daß wir nicht sehr verläßlich zu Haus sind
in der gedeuteten Welt. Es bleibt uns vielleicht
irgend ein Baum an dem Abhang, daß wir ihn täglich
wiedersähen; es bleibt uns die Straße von gestern
und das verzogene Treusein einer Gewohnheit,
der es bei uns gefiel, und so blieb sie und ging nicht.
O und die Nacht, die Nacht, wenn der Wind voller Weltraum
uns am Angesicht zehrt , wem bliebe sie nicht, die ersehnte,
sanft enttäuschende, welche dem einzelnen Herzen
mühsam bevorsteht. Ist sie den Liebenden leichter?
Ach, sie verdecken sich nur mit einander ihr Los.
Weißt du’s noch  nicht? Wirf aus den Armen die Leere
zu den Räumen hinzu, die wir atmen; vielleicht daß die Vögel
die erweiterte Luft fühlen mit innigerm Flug.
Ja, die Frühlinge brauchten dich wohl. Es muteten manche
Sterne dir zu, daß du sie spürtest. Es hob
sich eine Woge heran im Vergangenen, oder
da du vorüberkamst am geöffneten Fenster,
gab eine Geige sich hin. Das alles war Auftrag.
Aber bewältigtest du’s? Warst du nicht immer
noch von Erwartung zerstreut, als kündigte alles
eine Geliebte dir an? (Wo willst du sie bergen,
da doch die großen fremden Gedanken bei dir
aus und ein gehn und öfters bleiben bei Nacht.)
Sehnt es dich aber, so singe die Liebenden; lange
noch nicht unsterblich genug ist ihr berühmtes Gefühl.
Jene, du neidest sie fast, Verlassenen, die du
so viel liebender fandst als die Gestillten. Beginn
immer von neuem die nie zu erreichende Preisung;
denk: es erhält sich der Held, selbst der Untergang war ihm
nur ein Vorwand, zu sein: seine letzte Geburt.
Aber die Liebenden nimmt die erschöpfte Natur
in sich zurück, als wären nicht zweimal die Kräfte,
dieses zu leisten. Hast du der Gaspara Stampa
denn genügend gedacht, daß irgend ein Mädchen,
dem der Geliebte entging, am gesteigerten Beispiel
dieser Liebenden fühlt: daß ich würde wie sie?
Sollen nicht endlich uns diese ältesten Schmerzen
fruchtbarer werden? Ist es nicht Zeit, daß wir liebend
uns vom Geliebten befrein und es bebend bestehn:
wie der Pfeil die Sehne besteht, um gesammelt im Absprung
mehr  zu sein als er selbst. Denn Bleiben ist nirgends.

Stimmen, Stimmen. Höre, mein Herz, wie sonst nur
Heilige hörten: daß sie der riesige Ruf
aufhob vom Boden; sie aber knieten,
Unmögliche, weiter und achtetens nicht:
So  waren sie hörend. Nicht, daß du Gottes  ertrügest
die Stimme, bei weitem. Aber das Wehende höre,
die ununterbrochene Nachricht, die aus Stille sich bildet.
Es rauscht jetzt von jenen jungen Toten zu dir.
Wo immer du eintratst, redete nicht in Kirchen
zu Rom und Neapel ruhig ihr Schicksal dich an?
Oder es trug eine Inschrift sich erhaben dir auf,
wie neulich die Tafel in Santa Maria Formosa.
Was sie mir wollen? leise soll ich des Unrechts
Anschein abtun, der ihrer Geister
reine Bewegung manchmal ein wenig behindert.

Freilich ist es seltsam, die Erde nicht mehr zu bewohnen,
kaum erlernte Gebräuche nicht mehr zu üben,
Rosen, und andern eigens versprechenden Dingen
nicht die Bedeutung menschlicher Zukunft zu geben;
das, was man war in unendlich ängstlichen Händen,
nicht mehr zu sein, und selbst den eigenen Namen
wegzulassen wie ein zerbrochenes Spielzeug.
Seltsam, die Wünsche nicht weiterzuwünschen. Seltsam,
alles, was sich bezog, so lose im Raume
flattern zu sehen. Und das Totsein ist mühsam
und voller Nachholn, daß man allmählich ein wenig
Ewigkeit spürt.  Aber Lebendige machen
alle den Fehler, daß sie zu stark unterscheiden.
Engel (sagt man) wüßten oft nicht, ob sie unter
Lebenden gehn oder Toten. Die ewige Strömung
reißt durch beide Bereiche alle Alter
immer mit sich und übertönt sie in beiden.

Schließlich brauchen sie uns nicht mehr, die Früheentrückten,
man entwöhnt sich des Irdischen sanft, wie man den Brüsten
milde der Mutter entwächst. Aber wir, die so große
Geheimnisse brauchen, denen aus Trauer so oft
seliger Fortschritt entspringt : könnten  wir sein ohne sie?
Ist die Sage umsonst, daß einst in der Klage um Linos
wagende erste Musik dürre Erstarrung durchdrang;
daß erst im erschrockenen Raum, dem ein beinah göttlicher Jüngling
plötzlich für immer enttrat, das Leere in jene
Schwingung geriet, die uns jetzt hinreißt und tröstet und hilft.

Link to the other Duino Elegies

Rainer Marie Rilke

from the Poetry Foundation

Widely recognized as one of the most lyrically intense German-language poets, Rainer Maria Rilke was unique in his efforts to expand the realm of poetry through new uses of syntax and imagery and in the philosophy that his poems explored. With regard to the former, W. H. Auden declared in New Republic, “Rilke’s most immediate and obvious influence has been upon diction and imagery.” Rilke expressed ideas with “physical rather than intellectual symbols. While Shakespeare, for example, thought of the non-human world in terms of the human, Rilke thinks of the human in terms of the non-human, of what he calls Things (Dinge).” Besides this technique, the other important aspect of Rilke’s writings was the evolution of his philosophy, which reached a climax in Duineser Elegien ( Duino Elegies ) and Die Sonette an Orpheus ( Sonnets to Orpheus). Rejecting the Catholic beliefs of his parents as well as Christianity in general, the poet strove throughout his life to reconcile beauty and suffering, life and death, into one philosophy. As C. M. Bowra observed in Rainer Maria Rilke: Aspects of His Mind and Poetry, “Where others have found a unifying principle for themselves in religion or morality or the search for truth, Rilke found his in the search for impressions and the hope these could be turned into poetry…For him Art was what mattered most in life.”

Rilke was the only child of a German-speaking family in Prague, then part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. His father was a retired officer in the Austrian army who worked as a railroad official; his mother, a socially ambitious and possessive woman. At age eleven Rilke began his formal schooling at a military boarding academy, and in 1891, less than a year after transferring to a secondary military school, he was discharged due to health problems, from which he would suffer throughout his life. He immediately returned to Prague, to find that his parents had divorced in his absence. Shortly thereafter he began receiving private instruction toward passing the entrance exams for Prague’s Charles-Ferdinand University. In 1894 his first book of verse, Leben und Lieder: Bilder und Tagebuchblatter, was published.

By 1895 Rilke had enrolled in the philosophy program at Charles-Ferdinand University, but soon became disenchanted with his studies and left Prague for Munich, ostensibly to study art. In Munich Rilke mingled in the city’s literary circles, had several of his plays produced, published his poetry collections, Larenopfer and Traumgelkront, and was introduced to the work of Danish writer Jens Peter Jacobsen, who was a decisive influence during Rilke’s formative years. Visiting Venice in 1897, Rilke met Lou Andreas-Salome, a married woman fifteen years his senior, who was also a strong influence on Rilke. After spending the summer of 1897 with her in the Bavarian Alps, Rilke accompanied Salome and her husband to Berlin in late 1897 and to Italy the following year.

Rilke’s early verse, short stories, and plays are characterized by their romanticism. His poems of this period show the influence of the German folk song tradition and have been compared to the lyrical work of Heinrich Heine. The most popular poetry collections of Rilke’s during this period were Vom lieben Gott und Anderes ( Stories of God ) and the romantic cycle Die Weise von Liebe und Tod des Cornets Christoph Rilke (The Story of the Love and Death of Cornet Christoph Rilke), which remained the poet’s most widely recognized book during his lifetime. Dictionary of Literary Biography contributor George C. Schoolfield called Rilke’s first poetry collection, Leben und Lieder (“Life and Songs”), “unbearably sentimental,” but thought later works such as Larenopfer (“Offering to the Lares”) and Traumgekroent (“Crowned with Dreams”) demonstrated “considerably better proof of his lyric talent.” Although none of Rilke’s plays are considered major works, and his short stories, according to Schoolfield, demonstrate the author’s immaturity, the latter do show “his awareness of language and a certain psychological refinement,” as well as “flashes of brilliant satiric gift” and “evidence of a keen insight into human relations.” Schoolfield also observed that “some of Rilke’s best tales are autobiographical,” such as “Pierre Dumont,” which features a young boy saying goodbye to his mother at the gates to a military school, and “Ewald Tragy,” a two-part story about a boy who leaves his family and hometown of Prague for Munich, where he fights loneliness but enjoys a new sense of freedom.

In 1899 Rilke made the first of two pivotal trips to Russia with Salome, discovering what he termed his “spiritual fatherland” in both the people and the landscape. There Rilke met Leo Tolstoy, L. O. Pasternak (father of Boris Pasternak), and the peasant poet Spiridon Droschin, whose works Rilke translated into German. These trips provided Rilke with the poetic material and inspiration essential to his developing philosophy of existential materialism and art as religion. Inspired by the lives of the Russian people, whom the poet considered more devoutly spiritual than other Europeans, Rilke’s work during this period often featured traditional Christian imagery and concepts, but presented art as the sole redeemer of humanity. Soon after his return from Russia in 1900, he began writing Das Stundenbuch enthaltend die drei Bücher: Vom moenchischen Leben; Von der Pilgerschaft; Von der Armuth und vom Tode, a collection that “marked for him the end of an epoch,” according to Bowra and others. This book, translated as The Book of Hours; Comprising the Three Books: Of the Monastic Life, Of Pilgrimage, Of Poverty and Death, consists of a series of prayers about the search for God. Because of this concern, Hound and Horn critic Hester Pickman noted that the book “might have fallen out of the writings of Christian contemplatives,” except that “the essential pattern is an inversion of theirs. God is not light but darkness—not a father, but a son, not the creator but the created. He and not man is our neighbor for men are infinitely far from each other. They must seek God, not where one or two are gathered in His name, but alone.”

Whenever Rilke writes about God, however, he is not referring to the deity in the traditional sense, but rather uses the term to refer to the life force, or nature, or an all-embodying, pantheistic consciousness that is only slowly coming to realize its existence. “Extending the idea of evolution,” Eudo C. Mason explained in an introduction to The Book of Hours, “and inspired probably also in some measure by Nietzsche’s idea of the Superman, Rilke arrives at the paradoxical conception of God as the final result instead of the first cause of the cosmic process.” Holding in contempt “all other more traditional forms of devoutness, which . . . merely ‘accept God as a given fact,’” Rilke did not deny God’s existence, but insisted that all possibilities about the nature of life be given equal consideration.

The real theme of The Book of Hours, concluded Mason, is the poet’s “own inner life,” his struggles toward comprehension, and, “above all . . . his perils as a poet.” The second major concept in The Book of Hours is Rilke’s apotheosis of art. “‘Religion is the art of those who are uncreative,’” Mason quoted Rilke as having said; the poet’s work is often concerned with the artist’s role in society and with his inner doubts about his belief in poetry’s superiority. Because of the firm establishment of these two themes in The Book of Hours, the collection “is essential to the understanding of what comes afterwards” in Rilke’s writing, attested Pickman. The Book of Hours was also another of the poet’s most popular works, second only to The Story of the Love and Death of Cornet Christoph Rilke during his lifetime. But despite being a “very beautiful” book, it also “remains too constantly abstract. It lacks the solid reality of great poetry,” according to Pickman.

Rilke fixed his verse more firmly in reality in his next major poetry collection, Neue Gedichte ( New Poems ). The major influence behind this work was Rilke’s association with the famous French sculptor, Auguste Rodin. Working as Rodin’s secretary from 1905 to 1906, Rilke gained a greater appreciation of the work ethic. More importantly, however, the poet’s verses became objective, evolving from an impressionistic, personal vision to the representation of this vision with impersonal symbolism. He referred to this type of poetry as Dinggedichte (thing poems). These verses employed a simple vocabulary to describe concrete subjects experienced in everyday life. Having learned the skill of perceptive observation from Rodin and, later, from the French painter Paul Cezanne, Rilke “sustained for a little while the ability to write without inspiration, to transform his observations—indeed his whole life—into art,” according to Nancy Willard, author of Testimony of the Invisible Man. The “‘thingness’ of these poems,” explained Erich Heller in The Artist’s Journey into the Interior and Other Essays, “reflects not the harmony in which an inner self lives with its ‘objects’; it reflects a troubled inner self immersing itself in ‘the things.’” But although this objective approach innovatively addressed subjects never before recognized by other poets and created “dazzling poems,” Rilke realized, according to Willard, that it “did not really open the secret of living things.”

By this point in his career, Rilke was reaching a crisis in his art that revealed itself both in New Poems and his only major prose work, the novel Die Aufzeichnungen des Malte Laurids Brigge ( The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge). These works express the poet’s growing doubts about whether anything existed that was superior to mankind and his world. This, in turn, brought into question Rilke’s very reason for writing poetry: the search for deeper meaning in life through art. In her book, Rainer Maria Rilke, E. M. Butler averred that ” The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge” marks a crisis in Rilke’s attitude to God, a crisis which might be hailed as the loss of a delusion, or deplored as the loss of an ideal. . . . [His concept of the] future artist-god had never been more than a sublime hypothesis, deriving from Rilke’s belief in the creative and transforming powers of art.” Having failed, in his mind, to accurately represent God in his poetry, Rilke attempted to “transform life into art” in his New Poems. “What he learnt,” Butler continued, “is what every artist has to face sooner or later, the realisation that life is much more creative than art. So that his mythological dream, the apotheosis of art, appeared to be founded on delusion. Either art was not as creative as he had thought, or he was not such a great artist. Both these doubts were paralyzing, and quite sufficient to account for the terrible apprehension present in every line of Malte Laurids Brigge. For this skepticism struck at the roots of his reason and justification for existence. Either he was the prophet of a new religion, or he was nobody.”

The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge is a loosely autobiographical novel about a student who is the last descendant of a noble Danish family (Rilke believed, erroneously according to his biographers, that he was distantly related to Carinthian nobility), and follows his life from his birth to a grim, poverty-stricken life as a student in Paris. Images of death and decay (especially in the Paris scenes) and Malte’s fear of death are a continuous presence throughout the narrative. Because Rilke never finished The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge (in one of his letters, the author told a friend he ended the book “‘out of exhaustion,’” reported Schoolfield) Malte’s ultimate fate is left ambiguous. In one of Rilke’s letters translated in Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke: 1910-1926, the author remarked that the most significant question in The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge is: “[How] is it possible to live when after all the elements of this life are utterly incomprehensible to us?” As William Rose determined in Rainer Maria Rilke: Aspects of His Mind and Poetry, The Notebooks of Malte Laurids Brigge actually was kind of a catharsis for the author in which “Rilke gave full vent . . . to the fears which haunted him.” “Without the Notebooks behind him,” Wood concluded, “the poet would hardly have ventured” to write the Duino Elegies in 1912.

Duino Elegies “might well be called the greatest set of poems of modern times,” claimed Colin Wilson, author of Religion and the Rebel. Wilson averred, “They have had as much influence in German-speaking countries as [T. S. Eliot's] The Waste Land has in England and America.” Having discovered a dead end in the objective poetry with which he experimented in New Poems, Rilke once again turned to his own personal vision to find solutions to questions about the purpose of human life and the poet’s role in society. Duino Elegies finally resolved these puzzles to Rilke’s own satisfaction. Called Duino Elegies because Rilke began writing them in 1912 while staying at Duino Castle on the Italian Adriatic coast, the collection took ten years to complete, due to an inspiration-stifling depression the poet suffered during and after World War I. When his inspiration returned, however, the poet wrote a total of eleven lengthy poems for the book; later this was edited down to ten poems. The unifying poetic image that Rilke employs throughout Duino Elegies is that of angels, which carry many meanings, albeit not the usual Christian connotations. The angels represent a higher force in life, both beautiful and terrible, completely indifferent to mankind; they represent the power of poetic vision, as well as Rilke’s personal struggle to reconcile art and life.The Duino angels thus allowed Rilke to objectify abstract ideas as he had done in New Poems, while not limiting him to the mundane materialism that was incapable of thoroughly illustrating philosophical issues.

The revolutionary poetic philosophy that Rilke proposed in Duino Elegies is considered significant to many literary scholars. “No poet before him had been brave enough to accept the whole of [the dark side of the] world, as if it were unquestionably valid and potentially universal,” asserted Conrad Aiken in his Collected Criticism. Like the German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche, who lived about the same time as Rilke, the poet determined his objective to be “[praise] and celebration in the face of and in full consciousness of the facts that had caused other minds to assume an attitude of negativity,” wrote Emergence from Chaos author Stuart Holroyd. But even though the final purpose of Duino Elegies is to praise existence, the “predominant note . . . is one of lament.” By overcoming his quandaries in this collection, Rilke was completely free to devote his poetry to praise in Sonnets to Orpheus.

“The Sonnets are the songs of his victory,” affirmed Bowra in The Heritage of Symbolism. “In the Sonnets,” Bowra wrote, “Rilke shows what poetry meant to him, what he got from it and what he hoped for it. The dominating mood is joy. It is a complement to the distress and anxiety of the Elegies, and in Rilke’s whole performance the two books must be taken together.” Aiken similarly commented that the ” Sonnets to Orpheus . . . is, with the Elegies, Rilke’s finest work—the two books really belong together, shine the better for each other’s presence.”

In the last few years of his life, Rilke was inspired by such French poets as Paul Valery and Jean Cocteau, and wrote most of his last verses in French. Always a sickly man, the poet succumbed to leukemia in 1926 while staying at the Valmont sanatorium near Lake Geneva. On his deathbed, he remained true to his anti-Christian beliefs and refused the company of a priest. Hermann Hesse summed up Rilke’s evolution as a poet in his book, My Belief: Essays on Life and Art: “Remarkable, this journey from the youthful music of Bohemian folk poetry . . . to Orpheus, remarkable how . . . his mastery of form increases, penetrates deeper and deeper into his problems! And at each stage now and again the miracle occurs, his delicate, hesitant, anxiety-prone person withdraws, and through him resounds the music of the universe; like the basin of a fountain he becomes at once instrument and ear.” Without his parents’ religious ideals to comfort him, Rilke found peace in his art. As Holroyd concluded, the “poetry which Rilke wrote to express and extend his experience . . . is one of the most successful attempts a modern man has made to orientate himself within his chaotic world.”

 

The calm before the storm: Virilio’s debt to Foucault and some notes on global capitalism by Ian Robert Douglas

The calm before the storm: Virilio’s debt to Foucault and some notes on global capitalism

Ian Robert Douglas

- Copyright Ian Robert Douglas.

For more information please contact: ian@powerfoundation.org

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

 

In fact, there was no “industrial revolution”, but only a “dromocratic revolution”; there is no democracy, only dromocracy, there is no strategy, only dromology … Thus, the related logic of knowing power, or power-knowledge, is eliminated to the benefit of moving-power—in other words the study of tendencies, of flows. – Paul Virilio

In this short essay I aim to make a simple point: that dromocratic society cannot be understood in the absence of an historical reading of its predecessor and co-existent: disciplinary society. Paul Virilio’s claim therefore for the elimination of the logic of ‘power/knowledge’ by that of ‘moving-power’, though important, should be approached with caution. Both exist in parallel throughout modernity, the latter being only possible upon the precondition of the former.

So what does this mean? Three implications at least. First, that we may question the precision of Virilio’s dating of the ‘dromological revolution’, and the move to the ‘age of the accelerator’. As this qualification seems to me of interest only in passing I’ll not labour the point. Second, that we ought better to recognise—alongside military ‘dromomaniacs’—the importance of a whole band of administrators, reformers, bureaucrats and technicians that sought actively to create societies at once suited for speed and tranquillity. This seems to me much more important, both as a corrective to Virilio’s overly militaristic reading of speed, and as a reminder that beneath the politics of speed (indeed, the politics of the military) is ultimately the politics of order. Third, that having better understood the history of man’s experience of power-in-motion over the modern epoch as a whole we may be better prepared to think about how political technology operates in our own immanent present. Taken together—I argue—Virilio and Foucault provide us with a whole battery of concepts with which we can approach the politics of contemporary dominant social realities.

I begin with the question of motion in the early modern period.

Imagining motion in the Classical age
In Madness and Civilization, philosopher Michel Foucault described how the ‘problem of mobility’ was central to the identification and diagnosis of insanity and unreason in the Classical age.[1] Within the popular imaginary, mania was related to an ‘excessive mobility of the fibres’, leading to a lightness in disposition, and melancholia to a congestion and thickening of the blood, and subsequent dullness of character. An episteme of medical perception arose around the question of movement within the body. This episteme was embodied and reflected in a series of practices, suggestions and knowledges aimed to regulate the centre ground between the extremes of rapidity and stasis:If it is true that madness is the irregular agitation of the spirits, the disordered movement of fibres and ideas, it is also obstruction of the body and the soul, stagnation of the humors, immobilization of the fibres in their rigidity, fixation of ideas and attention on a theme that gradually prevails over all others. It is then a matter of restoring to the mind and to the spirits, to the body and to the soul, the mobility which gives them life. This mobility, however, must be measured and controlled; it must not become a vain agitation of the fibres which no longer obey the stimuli of the exterior world. The animating movement that corresponds to the prudent mobility of the exterior world. Since madness can be dumb immobility, obstinate fixation as well as disorder and agitation, the cure consists in reviving in the sufferer a movement that will be both regular and real, in the sense that it will obey the rules of the world’s movements.[2]

The result, as Foucault described (also later in Discipline and Punish) was the gradual emergence of a ‘science of time’ mediating man’s relation to motion within the confines of acceptable limits to reason and order. The parameters of a whole society were established vis-à-vis the question of ‘movement’.

In Flesh and Stone, Foucault’s friend and collaborator, Richard Sennett, describes how this medical perception of movement came to define the organization of Classical and Baroque urban space. In doing so, Sennett, like Foucault, makes the crucial link between the organization of bodies and that of the broader ‘body-politic’. New principles of city planning and policing were emerging based upon the medical metaphors of ‘circulation’ and ‘flow’.[3] The health of the body became the comparison against which the greatness of cities and states would be measured. The ‘veins’ and ‘arteries’ of the new urban design were to be freed from all sources of possible blockage:

Enlightened planners wanted the city in its very design to function like a healthy body, freely flowing as well as possessed of clear skin. Since the beginnings of the Baroque era, urban planners had thought about making cities in terms of efficient circulation of the people on the city’s main streets … The medical imagery of life-giving circulation gave a new meaning to the Baroque emphasis of motion. Instead of planning streets for the sake of ceremonies of movement toward an object, as did the Baroque planner, the Enlightenment planner made motion an end in itself.[4]

The regularisation of cleanliness and sanitation, and the removal of madmen, beggars, vagabonds and idlers from the highway can be related to the question of the efficiency of movement that dominated the historical imaginary of the Classical age.[5] As Julien Offray de La Mettrie would remark, only organised matter was endowed with the principle of motion.[6] We may also add that matter endowed with the principle of motion was increasingly regarded as ‘ordered’. What was emerging was a particular relation between politics, space and time. In the words of Guillaute (a French police officer writing in 1749): “Public order will reign if we are careful to distribute our human time and space between the city and the country by a severe regulation of transit; if we are attentive to schedules as well as to alignments and signal systems; if by environmental standardization the entire city is made transparent, that is, familiar to the policeman’s eye.”[7]

Channelling movements
Running parallel to this mapping of the physical body, and the regularisation of the urban landscape, was a third form of motion—a kind of civic pulsation (the actual movement of bodies)—nascent and yet to be controlled. Contrary to common perception, this new civic energy finds its threshold not in the industrial and recreational innovations of the 19th century, but rather in transformations of state and society in the Classical age. Described by Mumford, it is the sixteenth century which marks the emergence of a new era of generalised mobility. The ‘new spirit of society’, he argues: “ … was on the side of rapid transportation. The hastening of movement and the conquest of space, the feverish desire to ‘get somewhere’, were manifestations of the pervasive will-to-power. ‘The world’, as Stow remarked … ‘runs on wheels’. Mass, velocity, and time were categories of social effort before Newton’s law was formulated.”[8] Jacob Burckhardt’s classic study, The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy, traces this will-to-power back even further to the reconceptualisation of distance and space during the Crusades.[9] For both, this new spirit could not be explained exclusively in terms of technology, but had to be seen within the context of what Burckhardt would call ‘systematisation’ (through which man would come to recognise himself), or what Mumford more knowingly would term biotechnics (the ways in which man codifies, differentiates and stratifies in establishing mastery over the realm of men and things).[10]

What both Mumford and Burckhardt point the way to is a pre-existing politico-administrative, rather than technico-military, history of speed, only in part foregrounded in the works of Paul Virilio. In actual fact—viewed in this way—the genealogy of speed takes on an entirely new dimension identified in the works of Michel Foucault, Gerhard Oestreich, and Brook Blair. In The Will to Know, for instance, Foucault traces the politico-theoretical imagination of what we may call ‘kinetic channelling’: the accumulation and direction of the energies and flows of the populace as a whole. In his classic study, Neostoicism and the early modern state, Oestreich charts a similar ambition in the Netherlands Movement, the revival of stoic values (late 16th century onward), and the rise of the constitutional state. Blair, more recently, has deepened this analysis to consider the advent of what he calls ‘universal productionist order’ and the ‘mass mobilizations’ of the modern epoch of biopower.[11]

For Foucault, a critical threshold is reached with the genesis and ascendance of concepts and practices of ‘reason of state’. In the lecture, ‘Omnes et Singulatim’, he describes how during the course of the sixteenth century a new principle of ‘civil prudence’ emerged: the populace was to be maximised as a productive force.[12] The making of individuals ‘useful for the world’ became the central objective of political reason.[13] Within this reason—dominated throughout the early modern epoch by the same physiological metaphors of ‘circulation’ and ‘fluidity’—the principle of motion was in essence synonymous with the principle of production; of the functioning politico-economic order.

As Foucault was variously at pains to point out, this ‘functioning’ was to depend upon facilitating rather than the subduing the populace. In the words of von Rohr, writing at the turn of the 18thC: “The best means of enriching a land is to take care that many people are drawn into the land, and also that all the subjects though diligent labour may have their support and means of gain.”[14] The metaphor of ‘drawing in’ captures perfectly what Foucault would describe with such effect as the broader transformation taking place: the ‘entry of life into history’ (the passing of the processes of human existence into the realm of knowledge, power and political technology).[15] Underpinning this transformation was the neostoic revival in military discipline and drill embodied in the practices and procedures of Lipsius, Maurice of Nassau, Gustavus and Montecuccoli, and passed on through Eugene, Marlborough, Guibert and Frederick II, to the French Revolutionaries.[16] Before men could be made to run at the enemy, they had first to be taught how to stand in space and time. This disciplinary revival—practised first on the military courtyard, and then in the General Hospital, the workhouse, the almshouse, and later the prison—was the essential first step in mastering and channelling the ‘release’ of energies of the newly ascendant masses, organised and brought forth (called forth even) by a whole range of political theorists and advisers.[17]

The image of society emerging was one of a complex of relays, each to be synchronised, made efficient and effective. In the words of 18th century thinker von Justi: “The domestic security of a state consists in such a well-ordered constitution of the same that all parts of the civic body are held in their appropriate correlation, and in the consequent repose … ”[18] If the ‘civil machine’ achieved a modicum of fluidity, productivity and order would be achieved simultaneously. As described by Immanuel Wallerstein, a new framework was required: “ … within which individual mobility was possible without threatening hierarchical work-force allocation.”[19] The aims of this process of mobilising and ordering would be expressed throughout the Eighteenth century in a mass of directives, codes and regulations through which modern social contractarianism was practised. “The foundations were laid … ” writes Hubert Johnson, “ … for the future development of an entrepreneurial bureaucracy that would, in the next century, work hand in glove with government.”[20]

Police science and the regularisation of energies
These foundations are found nowhere better than in contemporaneous ‘cameralistic’ writings of Seckendorff, Dithmar, and Darjes, among others. Under the alternative name of ‘police science’, these writings, taken together, embody a commitment to the social order and the emergence of a progress defined in material production. The assurance of motion was, for the cameralists, the surest way to ensure the ‘happiness of the state’. Man at once decentred in the Copernican revolution was recentred at the heart of political economy—or perhaps more precisely, political technology. This recentering had its own implications. Slowly but surely an organic view of society was emerging; one in which the dynamic relations of ‘men and things’ were to be synchronised. Niccolò Machiavelli clearly stands at a threshold here, but it is not until well into the eighteenth century that the parameters of the social order emerging could be recognised, and acted upon. Alongside the ‘system of positivities’ emerging the fields of science, medicine, jurisprudence, and commerce developed an equally important order of knowledge defined not by its space, but its relation to time; what we might call an episteme of conscious mobility.[21] The new requirements for social order that developed with the turbulence of the money economy in the 15th and 16th centuries had, almost independently, suggested the means by which populations could be at once maximised and minimised.

This episteme is expressed nowhere better than in the actions of the single most successful and influential figure of the period: Frederick II of Prussia. Indeed, so aware it seems was he of the new requirements of conscious mobility (not only in warfare, also in bureaucratic management[22]) that one imagines that the remarkable words of the cameralist von Justi were written entirely for him: “A properly constituted state must be exactly analogous to a machine, in which all the wheels and gears are precisely adjusted to one another; and the ruler must be the foreman, and the main-spring, or the soul … which sets everything in motion.”[23] The threshold in the political economy of power at which he stands is so significant that perhaps it is necessary to add to Foucault’s formulation of the ‘birth of biopower’ with the notion of the ‘birth of biokinesis’ (the passing of movement into History, and the realm of political technology).

1789 and the disciplinary/dromological revolution
In the words of Martin Heidegger: “The breeding of human beings is not a taming in the sense of a suppression and hobbling of sensuality; rather, breeding is the accumulation and purification of energies in the univocity of the strictly controllable ‘automatism’ of every activity.”[24] With Frederick we find the first statesman of the modern period to bring together the two themes that were emerging to dominate an historical horizon: biopower and dromological power. It is true that at the turn of the 19thC these elements were in any case running parallel. Foucault seemed well aware of this:

At first, [disciplines] were expected to neutralise dangers, to fix useless or disturbed populations, to avoid the inconveniences of over-large assemblies; now they were being asked to play a positive role, for they were becoming able to do so, to increase the possible utility of individuals. Military discipline … increases the skill of each individual, coordinates these skills, accelerates movements, increases fire power, broadens the front of attack without reducing their vigour … The discipline of the workshop, while remaining a way of enforcing respect for the regulations and authorities, of preventing thefts or losses, ends to increase aptitudes, speeds, output and therefore profits; it still exerts a moral influence over behaviour, but more and more it treats actions in terms of their results, introduces bodies into a machinery, forces into an economy.[25]

A ‘collective, obligatory rhythm’ was emerging; a ‘meticulous meshing’. “We have passed … ” Foucault continues:

… from a form of injunction that measured or punctuated gestures to a web that constrains them or sustains them throughout their entire succession. A sort of anatomo-chronological schema of behaviour is defined … Time penetrates the body and with it all the meticulous controls of power … Disciplinary control does not consist simply in teaching or imposing a series of particular gestures; it imposes the best relations between a gesture and the overall position of the body, which its condition of efficiency and speed … The principle that underlay the time-table in its traditional form was essentially negative; it was the principle of non-idleness … Discipline, on the other hand, arranges a positive economy: it poses the principle of a theoretically ever-growing use of time: exhaustion rather than use; it is a question of extracting, from time, ever more available moments and, from each moment, ever more useful forces. This means that one must seek to intensify the use of the slightest moment, as if time, in its very fragmentation, were inexhaustible or as if, at least by an ever more detailed internal arrangement, one could tend towards an ideal point at which one maintained maximum speed and maximum efficiency … [26]

As Foucault goes on to describe, it was exactly this implementation of a new economy of movement through time that enabled Frederick to dominate the 18thC, becoming the model for military knowledge from there on in. Speed was to be taught as a virtue. Yet if Frederick was the foreman of this newly constituted machine-in-motion, Napoleon Bonaparte would become it’s soul. That great disciplinarian, commander of detail, would make his life-project the discovery of disciplinary-kinetics. More than anyone prior, he would embody the next phase of history, defined not so much by the ‘art of governing’, as what we might describe—with a certain sense of misgiving—as the ‘art of motorizing’.[27] How far had European practice travelled from the Bourbon King who declared, “l’etat, c’est moi.”, to the military-Emperor who drew the subtle and yet profound distinction, declaring, “I am the man of the state. I am the revolution.”[28]

It is this moment in history that serves—as we know—as Paul Virilio’s point of departure. “Up until the nineteenth century … ” he writes, “ … society was founded on the brake.”[29] Agrarian society then gives way to industrial or transportational society (or better still, ‘dromocratic society’). This society is built upon the possibility of ‘fabricating speed’: “And so they can pass from the age of the brakes to the age of the accelerator. In other words, power will be invested in acceleration itself.”[30] An ‘unrecognised order of political circulation’ was emerging, crystallised finally in the French Revolution. The events of 1789, he writes:

… claimed to be a revolt against subjection, that is, against the constraint to immobility symbolised by the ancient feudal serfdom … the arbitrary confinement and obligation to reside in one place. But no one yet suspected that the ‘conquest of the freedom to come and go’ so dear to Montaigne could, by a sleight of hand, become an obligation to mobility. The ‘mass uprising’ of 1793 was the institution of the first dictatorship of movement, subtly replacing the freedom of movement of the early days of the revolution. The reality of power in this first modern State appears beyond the accumulation of violence as an accumulation of movement.[31]

From this turning point (which was perhaps nothing more than a confirmation of a broader political investment in motion running parallel to the rise of commerce and the money economy, the militant-bureaucratic state, and new advances in the physical and medical sciences), Virilio goes on to charts the active planning of the time and space horizons of whole societies: what he calls the: “ … primordial control of the masses by the organisms of urban defense.”[32] For Virilio, as for Foucault, the aims of modern political rationality are clear: to make mobile the citizenry within the parameters of order, reason and tranquillity. Yet for Virilio, as again for Foucault, these parameters also included the channelling of surplus civic/kinetic energy for warfare. In the words of Virilio:

We can clearly distinguish two functions (or functionings) of the thus-mobilized proletarian base … the new commercial bourgeoisie tends to enrich itself by amassing the productive movements (actions) of the industrial proletariat … while the military class amasses the destructive act of the mobile masses, and the production of destruction is accomplished by the proletariat’s power of assault.[33]

And in the words of Foucault:

… wars were never as bloody as they have been since the nineteenth century, and all things being equal, never before did regimes visit such holocausts on their populations. But this formidable power of death—and perhaps this is what accounts for part of its force and the cynicism with which it has so greatly expanded its limits—now presents itself as the counterpart of a power that exerts a positive influence on life, that endeavours to administer, optimise, and multiply it, subjecting it to precise controls and comprehensive regulations.[34]

So what we find—clearer in Foucault, but implicit in Virilio—is a parallel development of biopower and dromological power: a power that invests in bodies, and a power that puts those bodies in motion. Both forms of power—as their very roots in the classical age highlight—are concerned in the last analysis with the ordering, channelling, and disciplining of populations.

The biopolitical/dromological reversal
What Virilio adds to the story is a more focused description of the nineteenth century evolution of political technology, hinted at yet not fully assimilated in the works of Michel Foucault. From the threshold of modernity onward, disciplinary power invests less in the constitution of space than in the constitution of time. We may think of this as something of a rupture at the heart of modern political technology—one which continues to affect the practicalities of our lives. Individuals become subordinated to a higher realm of ordering (speed). Despite his interest in architecture, Virilio is then less concerned with the ways in which ‘stone can make people docile and knowable’, than the means by which revolution and not stasis has established itself as the universal principle of modern order, leading finally to what he has termed the ‘peace of exhaustion’.[35] In essence (though Virilio seems uninterested in extending his historical analysis to take account of the early modern period) his works describe in outline the political technique through which the ‘problem’ of early modernity (of how to maximise the power of individuals for the prestige of the state within the confines of stability and good order) was transcended and neutralised. Over the modern period proper, no longer is the dilemma of government how to mediate between the extremes of rapidity and stasis, productionism and docility, circulation and revolution. By the time of Napoleon, the sentiments expressed just fifty years earlier by Julien Offray de La Mettrie had already been surpassed. As he had written:

The nature of motion is as unknown to us as that of matter … [and I am] … as content not to know how inert and simple matter becomes active and highly organised, as not to be able to look at the sun without red glasses … [36]

Not only now would political rationality understand the motion of matter, and of bodies, it would seek above all to perfect the mechanisms of producing it. The ‘movement-of-movement’, or ‘speed’, as a technical achievement, emerges at this time (the early 19thC) as a societal principle, reordering the whole of the modern world.[37] In the most radical way possible Virilio begins to answer the question of how efficiency was established in the modern urban landscape. He also uncovers—in the most discreet and disarming way (despite his want for rhetoric)—a whole new realm of power; one that still—20 years after Speed and Politics was written—is yet to be explored in detail.

In the way of a summary of the history that I have aimed to highlight, let us imagine the flagpoints of that history in an alternative form: in early modernity we find a rabble populace, poorly disciplined, wandering, and blighted by the spectres of unreason, idleness and environmental destitution. The aim of political reason—in the context of broader societal transformations (the discovery of order through production, the rise of the money economy, commercialism and early mercantilism[38])—is to navigate a course between the extremes of revolution and stagnancy. Having recognised that (in the words of Botero) the ‘true strength of a ruler consists in his people’, political rationality aims to ‘multiply’ the citizenry as a productive force.[39] A new politics of order, both of detail (looking into men’s souls), and of generality (the constitution of a whole society) becomes a technical necessity. Working together (what Foucault would describe as ‘anatomo-power’ and ‘biopower’), these techniques of intervention produced at the heart of the Classical age an initial halt. The power of movement was subject to a spatial codification (in the city, in the workhouse, in the hospital, in the manufactory).

By the beginnings of the 19th c. this ‘codification’ had been achieved, and a second ‘reordering’ could now be effected. This reordering, rather than charting the middle ground between rapidity and stasis, aimed to ‘release’ the full productive, dynamic efficiency of the (national) population in and through time. Motion had emerged as the destiny and law of a new politics of order. The full equivalence of Virilio’s ‘metabolic vehicles’ to Foucault’s ‘bearers of order’ becomes clear. Dromological power—or in the words of Foucault, ‘capillary power’—had emerged as the practical basis and first principle of the ‘free society’ and ‘coded individual’ established simultaneously with the apparatus of modern ‘governmentality’. Mobility, in other words, had become simultaneously the means to liberation and the means to domination; the ‘accumulation of men’ running simultaneously with ‘the accumulation of movement’, and—one might add—the ‘accumulation of capital’.

Bio-dromology and (global) capitalist modernity
On this note I want to change gear, moving now to consider—if only briefly—the importance of deepening Virilio’s genealogy of motion in the fashion outlined. As alluded to in the introduction, all of the above is not introduced as a corrective to Virilio’s historical slant. To do so would in many ways be irrelevant. Virilio is a dromologist, not an historian. As he himself admits: “I don’t believe in explanations. I believe in suggestions, in the obvious quality of the implicit.”[40] Rather, the reason why I have attempted to sketch-out, in crude simplicity, the development of our modern experience of motion is because I think that together, the works of Paul Virilio and Michel Foucault describe in that experience the genealogy of capitalism. In doing so they open up a whole new political space for the effective critique of contemporary discourses of social reality, and in particular the ‘social reality’ of contemporary ‘advanced capitalism’.

For Foucault, biopower was the essential missing link in genealogy of capitalist modernity. As he insisted in Discipline and Punish: “ … the two processes—the accumulation of men and the accumulation of capital—cannot be separated.”[41] On the other side of the equation, Paul Virilio has stressed that his focus on speed in no way detracts from the importance of capital. As he insisted in Pure War: “Wealth is the hidden side of speed and speed is the hidden side of wealth.”[42] And lest we forget, Marx also understood the political advantages of the collision of dromological/biopolitical technology:

The bourgeoisie cannot exist without constantly revolutionizing the instruments of production, and with them the relations of production, and with them all the relations of society … Constant revolutionizing of production, uninterrupted disturbance of all social conditions, everlasting uncertainty and agitation distinguish the bourgeois epoch from all earlier ones. All fixed, fast-frozen relations, with their train of ancient and venerable prejudices and opinions, are swept away, all new-formed ones become antiquated before they can ossify … [43]

Once in motion, political rationality had only to: “ … give rhythm to the mobile mass’s trajectory through vulgar stimulation.”[44]

Nowhere better do we find resonances of this ‘vulgar stimulation’ than the ensemble of discourses that seem now in the ascendant (the discourses of globalism and globalization), fast overtaking the globe, and in the same movement creating anew a fast globe. These discourses, and their subsidiaries (informatisation, risk, competition, efficiency)—reflected and enacted in a whole panoply of specific practices— are all linked the double movement sketched out above (the ‘will-to-speed’ and ‘modern governmentality’). Taken together—I argue—we stumble across the unwritten history of globalization, and in that, the unwritten history of contemporary advanced capitalism.

The links are fairly simple. With dromology: the will-to-speed finds its final realisation in the destruction of the space (astronautical flight, space obliterated in proportion to the velocity of the vehicle). This destruction, as a social principle (Mumford’s ‘desire to get somewhere’), has reduced the expanse of the world to naught, thrusting us into the global epoch. With governmentality: we need look only to the proliferating discourses of risk, competition, informatization, self-monitoring, self-organization, efficiency, effectiveness and excellence to get a taste of the ways in which the discourse of speed works to order the world into which individuals—indeed whole societies—are thrown. Each element feeds of the other: dromocratic power has encouraged the release of the will-to-speed through which we face what Virilio has termed the ‘negative horizon’ (the implosion of space under the violence of speed). In parallel, disciplinary society has actively sought to produce this violence of speed (first in the military, then in the factory, then in the school, then in the prison) as a technical instrument in the ordering of populations (‘populations at speed’).

Two principles then: speed and governmentality. These principles conform to two others: spatial annihilation; and the obligation-to-motivation. Both impulses are reflected in the deep social myths that accompany the discourses of globalism in our contemporary era. On spatial annihilation: in 1973 First National City Bank run an advertisement for their ‘global transfer system’ with the headline: “Citibank—the bank to look to for speed in moving money.”[45] In 1987 Mikhail Gorbachev hails the ‘mechanism of acceleration’, and the putting of ‘society in motion’, by quoting the words of a Western politician: “If you do what you’ve conceived, this will have fantastic, truly global consequences.”[46] “You wanted to travel?”, asks an ad for Sky-TV: “No need to bother.” “We believe … ” runs a promotion for Kawasaki, “ … that to fulfil our potential as a global corporation, we have to continually push back frontiers of space … “[47] On the obligation-to-motivation: in 1989 Jack Welch, chairman and CEO of General Electric talks of the ‘global moment’, of ‘lightening speed’, ‘fast action’, and ‘acting with speed’. “The world moves much faster today.”[48] In 1991, President and CEO of Asea Brown Boveri, asks: “Why emphasise speed over precision? Because the costs of delay exceed the costs of mistakes.”[49] In September 1994 The International Herald Tribune, distil perfectly the fearful risks apparent to all that operate to ensure the operation of universal governmentality: “For U.S. Corporations, the Modern-Day Byword Is ‘Globalize or Die’”.[50]

As suggested, both impulses have a deeper history. The following words accompanied a picture of the globe from space on an advertisement published for Ashland Oil and Refining Company in 1969:

Who can fail to be moved by the photographs of our earth—this great globe upon whose surface we dwell—taken from outer space? We gaze downward through the lens and from the vehicles of technology, seeing our planet from the perspectives provided by science. Uncounted centuries of thought and work preceded this moment; the contributions of generations went into its preparation. We count ourselves in this effort.[51]

Alternatively, take the advertisement for Daimler Benz published in 19 under the epigraph ‘Progress is the realisation of Utopias’ (Oscar Wilde), and beneath, the NASA earthrise. The dialogue ran as follows:

Making dreams come true is both a poetic and an accurate definition of progress. Consider man’s ancient dream of ‘automotion’, fulfilled at last by the automobile a century ago. But mankind’s dreams have always refused to remain earthbound. They have enabled him to soar like a bird, to explore distant planets. And today, science continues to uncover new mysteries and realise ever bolder dreams … We continue to build the best automobiles in the world … [52]

The automobile is linked to the planets, the planets to the dreams of the ancients, and ourselves to the possibilities of the future. It is that future itself which establishes the obligation-to-motivation. “Companies that do not adapt to the new global realities will become victims of those that do.”[53] “The good news is … ” writes Tom Peters, “ … You have no choice.”[54] There is, in the words of Walter Wriston, ‘no place to hide’.[55] ‘Man waiting for motivation’, ‘productivity through people’, ‘involve everyone in everything’, ‘create a sense of urgency’, establish ‘friction-free capitalism’: as Norman Ornstein of the American Enterprise Institute has argued, in the face of global competition: “ … people are going round with guillotines over their heads.”[56]

Bio-global, biokinetic society: securitization through speed
“[I]t is the permanence of speed that creates the total peace, the peace of exhaustion.[57] In one sentence Virilio illustrates perfectly what I would argue are the biopolitical impulses of our immanent (global) present. What I have tried to do is to introduce the longer political history to this ‘peace of exhaustion’, through an analysis of the imagination of motion in the early modern period, and its subsequent inclusion into the development of disciplinary society. I also suggested along the way that what we see emerge—over the period of modernity as a whole—is something more than simply disciplinary society. This ‘something more’ is a form of society that, in the words of Virilio again, pursues peace through exhaustion, that is, through speed. In this sense it might be possible to add to Michel Foucault’s formulation of the ‘birth of biopolitics’ (the techniques of disciplinary society), the notion of the ‘birth of biokinesis’ (the techniques of dromo-disciplinary society). In particular this seems a fruitful way to politicise the rise to hegemony of the political discourses of globalization, informatisation, risk and competition. What I have suggested is that in combination the works of urbanist Paul Virilio late philosopher-historian Michel Foucault, open new ground by which to interrogate modern political technology, and in particular, its contemporary transformations and appearances.

Virilio then, I would suggest finally, stands in part as the successor, debtor, and faithful disciple—if unrecognised—of the late professor of the Collège de France. No doubt there were differences between them (if indeed they had regular contact).[58] Yet the similarities, to me, are more striking. Virilio, like Foucault, is clearly ‘taking aim at the heart of the present’.[59] In doing so—again like Foucault—he opens up, as he writes, multiple sites of contestation and struggle. Indeed, if Foucault was the thinker in our century to radicalise—in his genealogies of the asylum, the clinic, philology, natural history, political economy, the prison, and sexuality—the politics of space, perhaps we may say that Paul Virilio is his complement, both in method and range, in his radicalisation of the politics of time. It remains, however, to be seen whether Virilio will, like Foucault, take on the role of an opener of worlds, suggesting, if not prescribing, how the practices and rationalities of violence that surround us may be faced-down with courage and defiance. Perhaps Virilio is himself too fascinated by velocity to pause enough to think out the alternatives.


[1] See: Michel Foucault, Madness and Civilization: A History of Insanity in the Age of Reason (Tavistock, 1967), pp. 123-134., pp. 160-177, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (Allen Lane, 1977), pp. 135-169. Michel Foucault was one of the first thinkers of the French postwar to effectively pick up on the links between the problem of ‘mobility’ and the regularisation of society.

 

[2] Foucault, Madness and Civilization, pp. 172-3.

[3] See: Richard Sennett, Flesh and Stone: The Body and the City in Western Civilization (Faber and Faber, 1994), William Harvey, De Motu Cordis (Frankfurt, 1628), and Thomas Willis, Two Discourses Concerning the Souls of Brutes (London, 1684).

[4] Sennett, Flesh and Stone, pp. 263-4.

[5] In addition to the works of Sennett and Foucault, see: Thomas Osborne, ‘Security and vitality: drains, liberalism and power in the nineteenth century’, and Alan Hunt, ‘Governing the city: liberalism and early modern modes of governance’, in: Andrew Barry, Thomas Osborne and Nikolas Rose, Foucault and Political Reason: Liberalism, neo-liberalism and rationalities of government (UCL Press, 1996), and the essays ‘The mobilization of society’, and ‘Pleasure in work’, by Jacques Donzelot in: Graham Burchell, Colin Gordon and Peter Miller (Eds), The Foucault Effect: Studies in Governmentality (Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1991).

[6] Julien Offray de La Mettrie, Man a Machine (Open Court, 1912, origin., 1748), p. 140. The organization of the ‘idle’ was a particular concern. See: Charles Woolsey Cole, Colbert and a Century of French Mercantilism, Volume II (Columbia University Press, 1939), pp. 470-475. See also: Michel Foucault, Madness and Civilization, pp. 38-64.

[7] quoted in Virilio, Speed and Politics, p. 18.

[8] Lewis Mumford, The City in History: Its Origins, Its Transformations, and Its Prospects (Harvest, 1961), p. 368.

[9] Jacob Burckhardt, The Civilization of the Renaissance in Italy (Mentor: New York, 1960), pp. 211-14. See also: William H. McNeill, The Pursuit of Power: Technology, Armed Force and Society Since AD 1000 (Chicago, 1982), pp. 63-116.

[10] Lewis Mumford, The Pentagon of Power: The Myth of the Machine, Volume 2 (Harcourt, 1970), Graphic 4.

[11] See: Michel Foucault, ‘Right of Death and the Power over Life’, in, The History of Sexuality: Vol. 1, Introduction (Allen Lane: 1979). See also: ‘The Political Technology of Individuals’ in: Luther H. Martin, Huck Gutman and Patrick H. Hutton (Eds), Technologies of the Self: A Seminar with Michel Foucault (Tavistock, 1988), pp. 145-162, and ‘Governmentality’ in: Graham Burchell, Colin Gordon and Peter Miller (Eds), The Foucault Effect: Studies in Governmentality (Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1991), Gerhard Oestreich, Neostoicism and the Early Modern State (Cambridge, 1984), and Brook M. Blair, Knowledge, Power and the Modern State: Towards a Genealogy of Universal Productionist Order, 1500-1815 (Ph.D. Dissertation, University of Newcastle, 1996).

[12] See: Michel Foucault, ‘Omnes et Singulatim: Towards a Criticism of “Political Reason”’, in: Sterling M. McMurrin (Ed.), The Tanner Lectures on Human Values, Vol. 2 (University of Utah Press: 1981). For a more in-depth discussion see: Maurizio Viroli, From Politics to Reason of State: The Acquisition and Transformation of the Language of Politics 1250-1600 (Cambridge, 1992).

[13] Viet Ludwig von Seckendorff, Der Teutsch Fürstenstaat (1656), Der Christen Staat (1685), Justus Christoph Dithmar, Oeconomie, Polizei- und Cameralwissenchaft (1755), Joachim Georg Darjes, Elementa metaphysica (1743), Institutiones juriprudentiae universalis (1745), Discurs uber Natur- und Volkerrecht (1762). See: Albion M. Small, The Cameralists: The Pioneers of German Social Polity (University of Chicago Press, 1909), pp. 60-106, pp. 222-231, pp. 267-284. Beyond Small’s magisterial compendium only a handful of studies have been published in English, among them: Hubert C. Johnson, ‘The Concept of Bureaucracy in Cameralism’, Political Science Quarterly, Vol. 79, No. 3 (1964), pp. 378-402, Marc Raeff, ‘The Well-Ordered Police State and the Development of Modernity in Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century Europe: An Attempt at a Comparative Approach’, The American Historical Review, Vol. 80, No. 2 (1975), pp. 1221-1243, Keith Tribe, ‘Cameralism and the Science of Government’, Journal of Modern History, Vol. 56, No. 2 (1984), pp. 263-284, and Blandine Barret-Kriegel, ‘Michel Foucault and the Police State’ in: Timothy Armstrong (ed) Michel Foucault, Philosopher (Harvester Wheatsheaf, 1992).

[14] Julius Bernhard von Rohr, Haushaltungsbibliothek (1716), quoted in: Small, The Cameralists, p. 189. See: Giovanni Botero in The Reason of State (Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1956), Book IV, chpt. 7, ‘Of the poor’.

[15] Foucault, The History of Sexuality, Volume 1, pp. 141-2. For Foucault, from the classical period onward, the body was discovered as an ‘object and target of power’, that: “ … may operate as one wishes, with the techniques, the speed and the efficiency that one determines.” Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 138.

[16] See: Foucault, Discipline and Punish, and Peter Paret (Ed.), Makers of Modern Strategy: from Machiavelli to the Nuclear Age (Princeton, 1986), pp. 32-213.

[17] For detailed historical discussion see: A.W. Ward, G.W. Prothers and Stanley Leathers (Eds.), The Cambridge Modern History, Vol IV: The Eighteenth Century (CUP, 1909) and Will and Ariel Durant, The Age of Louis XIV (MJF Books, 1963), The Age of Voltaire (MJF Books, 1965), Rousseau and Revolution (MJF Books, 1968), and The Age of Napoleon (MJF Books, 1975).

[18] Johann Heinrich Gottlob von Justi, Staatswirthschaft (1758). Quoted in Small, The Cameralists, pp. 315-393.

[19] Immanuel Wallerstein, Historical Capitalism (Verso, 1983), p. 85.

[20] Hubert C. Johnson, Frederick the Great and His Officials, (Yale, 1975), p. 277.

[21] for a discussion of methodology in relation to the historical analysis of ‘epistemes’, see: Foucault, The Order of Things, pp. ix-xxiv. See also: Michel Foucault, The Archaeology of Knowledge (Tavistock, 1972).

[22] Frederick’s new principles of ‘rapid, massive volley’ have been frequently recognised as the core strength of his military genius. Among other things, Frederick was the first to introduce horse artillery. See: Gerhard Ritter, ‘Frederician Warfare’, and Ernst Friedrich Rudolf von Barsewisch, ‘The Battle of Hochkirch’ in: Peter Paret (ed), Frederick the Great: A Profile (Macmillan, 1972). Yet the focus on ‘speed’ also infiltrated his entire administration. As Walter Dorn describes: “The chief merit of [Frederick’s bureaucracy] was its rapidity … His secretaries and ministers testify to the tyrannical discipline which he exercised over his mind and body. With punctilious regularity he disposed of everything as soon as it came to him … He was compelled to order his ministers to send reports of no more than two folio pages … The kind was forever threatening officials with disgrace and dismissal if their reports were not drawn up with the utmost brevity.” Walter L. Dorn, ‘The Prussian Bureaucracy in the Eighteenth Century’, Political Science Quarterly, Vol. XLVI (1931), pp. 412-4.

[23] Johann Heinrich Gottlob von Justi, quoted in: Geraint Parry, ‘Enlightened Government and its Critics in Eighteenth-Century Germany’, Historical Journal, Vol. VI (1963), p. 182.

[24] Martin Heidegger, Nietzsche (Harper Collins, 1991, Vol III), pp. 230-31.

[25] Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 210.

[26] Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 210.

[27] Michel Serres argues a similar point in analysing the transition from the ‘clockwork age’ to the ‘motor age’. See: Michel Serres, ‘It was before the (World) Exhibition’, in: Jean Clair and Harold Szeeman (Eds), Junggesellenmaschinen; les machines celibataires (Venice: Alfieri, 1975). See also: Elias, The Civilizing Process, p. 37., Manuel De Landa, War in the Age of Intelligent Machines (Zone Books, 1991), p. 141., and Michael Mann, The Sources of Social Power, Volume II: The Rise of Classes and Nation-States, 1760-1914 (Cambridge, 1993), pp. 447-450.

[28] emphasis added. I thank Brook Blair for reference to this quotation. See Blair, Knowledge, Power and the Modern State.

[29] Virilio, in Paul Virilio and Sylvère Lotringer, Pure War (Semiotext(e), 1983), p. 44-5. Virilio’s, Popular Defense and Ecological Struggles (Semiotext(e), 1990), and L’ Insecurite du Territoire (Stock, 1976), work with very similar themes.

[30] Virilio, in Virilio and Lotringer, Pure War, pp. 44-5. As Mumford was also to describe: “From the eighteenth century on, power and speed become the chief criteria of technological progress … While motor cars are still built with brakes, reverse gears, and steering wheels, as well as accelerators, the power complex today is preoccupied only with acceleration … ” Lewis Mumford, The Pentagon of Power, The Myth of the Machine, Vol. II (Harvest, 1970), Graphic section I/4.

[31] Virilio, Speed and Politics, p. 30.

[32] Virilio, Speed and Politics, p. 15.

[33] Virilio, Speed and Politics, pp. 30-1.

[34] Foucault, The History of Sexuality, Volume 1, p. 137.

[35] Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 171., Virilio, Popular Defense and Ecological Struggles, p. 32. For Virilio this clearly has political implications: “ … the rise of totalitarianism goes hand-in-hand with the development of the state’s hold over the circulation of the masses.” Virilio, Speed and Politics, p. 16.

[36] La Mettrie, Man a Machine, p. 140.

[37] Virilio, in Virilio and Lotringer, Pure War, pp. 32-3.

[38] “Cities full of tradesmen and craftsmen and merchants love peace and tranquillity.” Botero, The Reason of State, p. 102.

[39] Botero, The Reason of State, Book VII, chpts. 11 (‘The people’) and 12 (‘The need for a numerous population’), and Book VIII, chpts. 1 (‘Two ways by which a prince may increase his strength and the number of his people’), 2 (‘Of agriculture’), and 3 (‘Of industry’).

[40] Virilio, in Virilio and Lotringer, Pure War, p. 38.

[41] Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 221.

[42] Virilio, in Virilio and Lotringer, Pure War, p. 30.

[43] Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, The Communist Manifesto (Pelican, 1967), p. 83.

[44] Virilio, Speed and Politics, p. 4.

[45] Foreign Affairs, Vol. 51 No. 4 (1973), p. A-1.

[46] Mikhail Gorbachev, Perestroika: New Thinking for Our Country and the World (William Collins, 1987), p. 64, p. 131.

[47] The Economist, ‘Japan Survey’ (July 09-15, 1994), p. 8.

[48] Jack Welch, quoted in: Noel Tichy and Ram Charan, ‘Speed, Simplicity, Self-Confidence: An Interview with Jack Welch’, Harvard Business Review (September-October, 1989), p. 115.

[49] Percy Barnevik, in: William Taylor, ‘The Logic of Global Business: An Interview with ABB’s Percy Barnevik’, Harvard Business Review (March-April, 1991), p. 104.

[50] International Herald Tribune (3-4, September 1994), p. 15.

[51] Harvard Business Review, July-August, 1969, p. 17.

[52] Daimler Benz marketing campaign, 1995-6.

[53] Theodore Levitt, ‘The Globalization of Markets’ Harvard Business Review (May-June, 1983), p. 93-112 (emphasis added).

[54] Tom Peters, Thriving on Chaos: Handbook for a Management Revolution (Pan Books, 1987), p. 189. Peter’s ‘handbook’ is precisely where the ‘archive’ of the global age—if one wants to find it—lies. The precise balance between speed and the demand for reflexivity; between the State and the decentralisation of power; between the autonomy of individual afforded by globalism and the pressures borne upon bodies, is apparent in every line. See also: Thomas J. Peters, Liberation Management: necessary disorganization for the nanosecond nineties (Fawcett, 1994), Robert Waterman, Frontiers of Excellence: the journey towards success in the 21st century (Allen and Unwin, 1994), and Thomas J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman, In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America’s Best-Run Companies (Harper and Row, 1982).

[55] Walter Wriston, ‘Technology and Sovereignty’, Foreign Affairs Vol. 67 (1988), p. 71.

[56] Peters and Waterman, In Search of Excellence, pp. 55-86, pp. 235-278, Peters, Thriving on Chaos, pp. 285-294, pp. 471-477, Bill Gates, The Road Ahead (Viking, 1995). Norman Ornstein, quoted in: Reginald Dale, ‘Toward the Millennium: the economic revolution has begun’ Special Report: Global Agenda, TIME, International (13 March, 1995), pp. 45-6.

[57] Virilio, Speed and Politics, p. 46.

[58] only one encounter seems to have made publication in English. This is the panel discussion ‘Confining Societies’ reproduced in Michel Foucault, Foucault Live (Semiotext(e), 1996).

[59] Jürgen Habermas, ‘Taking aim at the heart of the present’ in: David Cousins Hoy (Ed.), Foucault: A Critical Reader (Blackwell, 1986), pp. 103-108.

Seven Quartets of Becoming: A Review by J. Kepler

Sri Aurobindo (1872-1950)

Sri Aurobindo (1872-1950)

The Seven Quartets of Becoming

– a Review by J. Kepler

Debashish Banerji (hereafter DB), has written a new book – “The Seven Quartets of Becoming”, subtitled “A Transformative Yoga Psychology Based on the Diaries of Sri Aurobindo.”

Authors attempting to present Sri Aurobindo’s Integral Yoga most frequently use the descriptive framework Sri Aurobindo articulated in writings published in the latter decades of his life, e.g. the Arya texts he extensively revised in the 1930′s and 40′s, as well as a mountain of letters he wrote during the 30′s to various disciples explaining the theory and practice of his yoga. After his passing, the Mother largely carried on using this same set of terminology and concepts as well. DB however bases his book on the personal diaries Sri Aurobindo kept primarily during 1912 – 1920 (titled Record of Yoga), which were not published during his lifetime. The diary entries themselves are written in a cryptic shorthand suggesting they were perhaps not intended for others to read.

But DB actually does not focus on the diary entries themselves so much as on a certain text Sri Aurobindo noted down around the same time called the Sapta Chatusthaya (hereafter SaptaC), translatable as the “Seven Quartets”. It is an outline of concepts and terminology that came to Sri Aurobindo during his early years of deep yogic experience and realization and was clearly a guide to his own yogic practice at that time (as documented in the Record). It also provided the underlying architecture for  the Yoga of Self Perfection section in The Synthesis of Yoga.

So it’s an unusual exegetical approach DB takes to presenting Integral Yoga, one which carries a heavy burden of Sanskrit terminological explanation, and requires frequent attempts to relate to concepts and terminology Sri Aurobindo adopted in his later, more widely read texts. But DB manages this in an impressive fashion, providing lucid explanations of key terms, concepts and practices, also trying now and then to place them in some kind of context within contemporary intellectual discourse. He demonstrates a thorough knowledge of Sri Aurobindo’s writings, Integral Yoga, the Indian spiritual tradition, and European philosophy. DB also writes here in an admirably clear style, mercifully refraining from the crypto-prose idiom sometimes found in postmodern-influenced texts.

The book succeeds broadly on 2 fronts:

1)    It models a style of writing about Integral Yoga, Sri Aurobindo, and the Mother, which is potentially acceptable within modern intellectual culture, i.e. not easily rejected out-of-hand as primarily a religious or mystical tract. DB consistently orients Integral Yoga as an experiential field of psychological practice, not a cluster of dogmatic beliefs. At the same time he avoids a tone-deaf, disrespectful or insensitive style discussing a subject-matter which is for many permeated with the sacred. One intensely hopes other authors writing for a similar audience take note of this example.

2)    It provides an impressive explication of the complex terminology and structure of the SaptaC, perhaps especially suitable for those already familiar with Sri Aurobindo’s later writings and formulations of Integral Yoga, but interested in what this early formulation contains; for example the dual pattern of Mukti and Bhukti recurring throughout the SaptaC.

A specific potential hazard of focusing on the SaptaC and the Record is the status of certain siddhis or super-normal capacities that figure in parts of the SaptaC, and appear with some frequency in the Record itself. These are exemplified by Sri Aurobindo’s self-documented experiments in using yogic faculties to predict and intervene in the observed actions of animals and people. He also documented his receiving knowledge of people and events (current, past and future) via various types of telepathy and clairvoyance, and he practiced certain bodily experiments such as leaving his arm extended for a long period of time, using yogic will to accomplish what would ordinarily be impossible for the mere muscles and nervous system.

Sri Aurobindo notes in the SaptaC the cautious approach required to such self-development; the prerequisite conditions include an advanced purity and yogic equality (samata) established in the consciousness. Such siddhis are appropriate only to an advanced yogic consciousness free (or nearly free) from ego and desire, turning itself into an instrument for a spiritual action on life and the world. Without this established basis such pursuit of siddhis is either fruitless, or worse can be a lure or danger leading one far from the true yogic path. DB does make this clear in his text, but I finished with a sense he might have stressed this need for caution a bit more strongly.

Regarding the book’s attempted dialog with contemporary intellectual culture, for DB this means especially the variety of French theorizing that deeply influenced literary theory and other humanities departments of the American academy in the latter decades of the 20th century. Often grouped under the term postmodernism, this movement included a number of influential thinkers with related but also distinctive approaches. DB is particularly concerned with the thought of Gilles Deleuze, known for some highly original, if also rather obscure, theorizing about the human being and the possibilities that might be open to us.

How well the book succeeds in this attempted dialog is open to interpretation. I occasionally found the references to the thought of Nietzsche and other thinkers whose influence still looms large today, to be illuminating and to provide interesting context. At other times the repetition of seemingly stock phrases stating that some idea from the SaptaC lends itself to comparison with Deleuze’s idea of “Body without Organs”, had a certain artificial feel.

This leads to a deeper question of how far it’s even possible to bring Integral Yoga into relation with contemporary continental philosophy. Yoga is not religion, but it is not philosophy either. It is related to both (as well as to other domains, e.g. psychology, empirical science), but it is also a distinct range of experience and theory. Within intellectual discourse, Yoga fits more naturally with Indian philosophy, where traditionally the topics of consciousness and subjectivity are not limited to the ordinary surface mental-ego awareness, but are grounded in the mystic experience of inner and higher ranges of Self and Consciousness. DB attempts to thread this discursive needle in part by talking in terms of “yoga psychology”.

Would an academic reader steeped in the (possibly brilliant) theorizing of Deleuze, but also moored to the generally atheistic and materialistic framework of meaning this theorizing self-locates within, really feel at home in DB’s text with its talk of such things as faith in the Divine Shakti, surrender to the Master of the Yoga, etc? In any event DB makes a serious attempt at this project and the results can be gauged later. He is to be congratulated now for the effort.

My personal favorite take-away from the book was the attention drawn to some early poetry (1913) by Sri Aurobindo titled The Meditations of Mandavya in which Sri Aurobindo illuminates the yogic relations of soul and mind while seemingly describing an encounter with a scorpion sting:

While on a terrace hushed I walked at night,
He came and stung my foot. My soul surprised

Rejoiced in lover’s contact; but the mind

Thought of a scorpion and was snared by forms.

Still, still my soul remembered its delight,

Denying mind, and midst the body’s pain,

I laughed contented.