Two Models of Reasoning in Historicism: An Enquiry into (Post-)Marxist Science

Historicism justifiably culminates in universal history. Nowhere does the materialist writing of history distance itself from it more clearly than in terms of method. The former has no theoretical armature. Its method is additive: it offers a mass of facts, in order to fill up a homogenous and empty time.

Walter Benjamin, Theses on the Philosophy of History (1940)

How do we posit historical events as evidence for the claims we make for our theories? What is the status of the evidentiary relationship between events in history, and our historical reasoning?

By “historical reasoning”, I mean not just reasoning about history (indeed, we could reason about history non-historically), but reasoning in a historical manner, such as discerning the (irrational) rationality of existing standards, norms or categories based on their historical development; or recognizing cause-effect relationships in the field of human affairs as the particular examples of abstract general laws. History predates historicist science. But the science of history makes history what it is – an essentially human unfolding. The dialectic between materialist or abstract (ideological) theorizing about history, which unfolds generally in historicist critical theory takes as a model, as it were, a rupture with world-historic possibility first introduced by Marxism, which is to say that Marxism is a progenitor to later kinds of historicist theory insofar as it opens up the field of possibility for a critique of history from its outside: a practice more commonly called the critique of ideology.

Thus, the models of reasoning I consider here, though they refer primarily to Marxist theory, are situated within the same poststructuralist milieu as other strains of historicist critique. Marxism also, for better or worse, has a history of striving to make itself “scientific”. Analysis of models of reasoning are part and parcel with this aim. A formal logical analysis of competing models of reasoning will not be my aim in this paper, but rather, an exploration of the theoretical ground conditions giving rise to two competing models. These competing models are called ‘historical induction’ and ‘historical abduction’.

A note: in this essay I look at a small part of the development of Marxist theory in the 20th-century which I take to be significant in view of the present analysis, and generalize in order to frame Marxist theory in the nebulous “today”. Had I a publisher, I would write a book. I have a blog, and you have an essay.

“The Soviet Union under Stalin was more progressive than the most progressive alternatives on offer at the time under liberal state capitalism, for example in the United States,” says Person A, who is engaged in a political argument with Person B. Person B retorts by asking whether A has ever read Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s The Gulag Archipelago, or George Orwell’s Animal Farm (and will have made a good point in doing so), pointing to the Soviet Union under Stalin’s abysmal record of human rights violations, its failure to keep its population clothed and fed, the cultural totalitarianism of late bureaucratic communism, etc., etc. Person A has in mind that “progressive” means “progressive with respect to ownership and control of the means of production,” which is closer, in their mind, to the post-capitalist constitution of the only alternative to barbarism (that is, capitalism in its death knell, past its sell-by date), which is to say that it is the most rational alternative; while B is committed to a principle of rationality more in keeping with the maximization of individual freedoms bootstrapped to a utilitarian side-principle, which today qualifies for what most of us think of as ‘neoliberalism’.

The particular example doesn’t matter. Person A might be claiming that the capitalist classes in Britain and France in the lead-up to the Second World War were decidedly pro-fascist, right up to the point that fascism threatened their national borders, the sovereign personification of Hitler; Person B could then steadfastly disagree, claiming that all those liberal states swiftly united in attempting to crush fascism with little compunction at some point during the war, thus demonstrating their ideological opposition to it. They might be arguing about whether the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo was a decisive factor in sparking the hostilities leading up to the First World War. It matters not. What matters here is the manner in which each frames the evidence given in support of their conclusions.

Each individual in this case is arguing from historical induction. The examples are historical because they treat events in actual history as their empirical field of explanation. Inductive reasoning leads from premises to conclusions by way of an inference to the best explanation. Premises in inductive inferences give probable support to their conclusions, which are further held true by the way the world (probably) is. Each Person experiences, interprets and interacts with this world (or field of empirical reasoning) in different ways, leading them to draw different conclusions about its processes, evolutions, objects and relations, etc. They are not arguing about the status of their epistemic access to the historical evidence, but rather, about what the significance of the evidence is in relation to their historical reality. Each provides some piece of historical evidence – namely, rationally planned industrial production versus the existence of the gulags – thought to stand in support of a generalized conclusion.

It is worth it to take the time for a brief aside to explain how the present framing of the debate is indebted to Hegel and Marx; that is, the historicist debate about the status of history in relation to theory, rather than a debate limited to our epistemic access to events in history and their ‘actual significance’. Certain categories of experience lay the ground conditions for the possibility of such claims being made. That is, one needs to be able to explain their status in relation to the evidence being provided for the claims they are making. Our knowledge of history is a cultural memory. Culture mediates our understanding of historical narratives, both local and global. Hegel first articulates the process by which this manner of simultaneously thinking and expressing the essence of history – in the dialectic that Marx is credited with having “flipped on its head” – involves a kind of ongoing discourse between individuals and their societies, the material bases of their cultures. Marx anchors the dialectic of Hegel in two mutually opposed material forces locked in a struggle that is itself history in its present expression, which, under capitalism, takes the form of the struggle between workers and capitalists, the proletariat and the bourgeoisie.

Again, A and B are not arguing about the status of their perceptions in relation to the evidence; they are arguing about the best conclusions to draw from the evidence, based on the very structure of their experience. A basic condition of this, alongside other material conditions, is the existence of a mass of individuals brought together by their collective alienation under, or dispossession by the currently existing society and its norms. Such is the Marxist historiography of historicism, anyway. Materialist critique begins where society’s ideological superstructures slip away from its ever progressing base, accounted for by the constancy of revolutions in the sphere of production.

Now a brief interlude on the mode of historical induction and its critique. Culture produces the narratives by which all of our experiences of social, political and economic reality are mediated. The critical force that calls those norms into question is a mind altering substance. But it is mind altering precisely in that it opens on to a space that is beyond rationalisation, beyond the space of what is possible to conceive within the field of world-historic possibilities. What critical force orthodox Marxism renders through a capitalist eschatology, its death knell, and the historic overcoming in practice of its vast internal contradictions, Nietzsche set in motion with a hammer and the shrieking destructive laughter of the absolute ego. (And this destructive satisfaction produces such an amnesiac absolution of the individual that their face peels of in laughter, and they put on again new masks). I am trying to play out a conversation that Marxism comes to have with its own history here, specifically the post-scientific nihilism of Marxist critical theory under the Frankfurt School in a period characterised by the stark failure of the great Marxist experiment in the Soviet Union (Walter Benjamin referred to Moscow as a “laboratory” of human betterment in the 1920s, though his optimism would drop off sharply in the decades to follow), when the optimism of Marxist critique was deeply blunted by the defeat and corruption of an actual world-historic alternative to capitalism. Not that any of the Frankfurt School were Nietzscheans – though Horkheimer was a devotee of Schopenhauer, and Marcuse an early student of Heidegger. The theoretical conditions in which they worked, I argue, reflect a shift in the underlying dynamics of theoretical production, which is to say a tectonic shift in the relations and identities of objects in a given system. According to this shift, critique itself was flung far off the opposite end, reacting against the relative severance of theory from practice by reconciling itself to the negligent domain of pure theory. Which is not to say that the reaction was not grounded in some real historical event; or rather, in a rupture with the historicity of all events. There are historical conditions internal to the history of theory that make theory nihilistic. Hence the reference to Nietzsche. In later years, members of the Frankfurt School who, like Marcuse, remained in the United States after the war, regained some optimism, however, while Adorno and Horkheimer determinedly dispossessed themselves of both their involvement with praxis and the spear of their critique.

Several factors feed in to the Frankfurt School’s rejection of classical Marxism and scientific socialism – for example, for Adorno and Horkheimer, their loss of faith in the revolutionary potential of the working class following the failure of the Left to resist the rise of the fascists, which they, as did Fromm and Marcuse, go on to interpret as an unconscious desire in the masses for fascism. But much more than this, I suggest – and this point goes beyond exponents of the Frankfurt School itself, and extends into how Marxism is often viewed today, in areas where it still has the courage to dabble in scientificity and experiment in practice – is the understanding that eschatological politics quickly becomes eschatological morality, which can in turn serve to justify the most ignominious atrocities. When your world-historic alternative is couched in the image of the phoenix rising from the ashes of the currently existing society, there is the possibility one will take to starting fires everywhere.

This is not necessarily a common trait of adherents of Marxist theory today. But I suspect it is more common than we realize, if only due to the ostensible similarity between inductive reasoning and abductive reasoning. It would be a danger if those engaged in Marxism as political practice lapsed into such lazy epistemic attitudes: namely, the undialectical adoption of post-capitalist utopianism, engaging in scientific discourse without scrupulous and continual foregoing analysis of biases and acquired preconceptions, etc. In more recent history this would involve a romantic return to Marxism’s early scientific credentials, safely mocking poststructuralist or other strains of critique as coming up empty in political practice. Poststructuralists might rightly reply that this simply means that their praxis is non-identical with Marxist praxis, and hence outside of Marxist theory. At the same time, we must be critical of any critical theory not adequate to the task of the praxis it recommends (maybe it was always to be that even in the revolutionary climate of 1968, the best theorists of the Left were already predisposed to scurrying up high into the safety of the Ivory Tower). This is not a foreclosure of political collaboration, but rather an endorsement of radical theoretical pluralism. Theory defines a field of possibilities, including possibilities for political practice and possibilities for conclusions drawn from evidence, mediated by history as an empirical field and a material reality. The auto-critique of Marxist theory, as it were – I say “auto-critique” because it represents the potential resolution of an internal contradiction contained in part within Marxism as historic process – which opens it up to poststructuralist thinking, results from its self-consciousness as a rupture from within the field of possibilities prefigured by capitalist ideology, capitalist histories and capitalist categories. There is no cogent way to reason about this exterior – at least not scientifically – as long as it is infinitely situated within the point of a rupture from a system of representations, which reveals the system as such, but is a void.

Orthodox Marxism wants to step outside of capitalism while keeping one foot in the door. That’s not a viable option when the plan is to have the building collapse. This collapse implies an absolute rupture with current ways of reasoning; you can’t alter or blow away the foundation while holding up some of the structure and scaffolding.

So, historical induction is fundamentally flawed because it can’t take us past the system of representations that would be required to cogently reason about post-capitalist structural formations. The absolute future does not provide a valid perspective from which to reason about the past. This manner of historicizing in theory lends itself to a form of political practice which can justify the greatest atrocities. A coda attempting to link the rejection of historical induction with Marxism’s auto-critique under the metaphysics of technology and the will to mastery in the 20th-century (of central concern to den Frankfurter Marxisten) will be drawn following the remainder of this essay. Now, I want to move on to a different model of historical reasoning, one which, I think, takes these critiques in stride and compiles them into a way of theorizing better able to face the task of fusing theory and practice today, in this nihilistic wake, where we are all quite skeptical of those know-it-alls who contain all of the answers in their grand master narratives. This model is called historical abduction.

Abductive reasoning is another mode of inference to the best explanation; however, there is a key difference between abductive and inductive inferences. Inductively, I argue X entails that Z; abductively, I infer that Z explains X. Inductive reasoning takes place within the field of theory. Abductive reasoning takes place in a field of activity: a field in which theories are constructed. But abductive reasoning involves inferring that Z explains X out of a list of multiple possible competing explanations. This makes abductive reasoning the characteristic style of inference of a kind of post-theory theory.

Persons A and B, now conscious of the situation in which they are having a political argument, concede, sticking to a model of abductive reasoning, not only that they each respectively have equally limited access to the historical event(s) being presented as evidence, but also that the inferences to explanations that they draw from the bits of evidence each joins together in examining could differ. Each is conscious that there are necessary gaps in their own theories, which can be filled in practice only through discourse with exponents of different, competing theories. Theories aren’t true or false, strictly speaking, but rather, draw together competing sets of facts relevant to their explanations, and explain those different facts in more or less robust ways. We can’t get outside of our own systems of representations. But in political practice, these necessary outsides will shine forth in their absence by their presence among different systems of representation; naturally this calls for pluralistic mass political action. Hence I reason that historical abduction is the natural method of reasoning for broadly intersectional mass movements (that don’t neglect their class politics and political economy).

In fact, Adorno held just such a view of dialectical reasoning. He called it negative dialectics (in a book by the same name). The idea of dialectical reasoning is to construct a total system of explanations isomorphic to reality by the process of the resolution or sublation (Hegel uses the notoriously difficult Aufhebung) of contradictions. But, for Adorno, the system can never be total. It will always consist of certain gaps. These gaps correspond to the multiplicity of alternative explanations. In the traditional, Hegelian view, the system of explanations fits like a glove over the world of objects. In the orthodox Marxist view, which crucially opens up the possible field of critique, the system of explanations is split into materialist (Marxist) and ideological (capitalist/bourgeois, feudal/religious; lagging behind the stage of actual historical reality) ones; how the glove fits the hand is a function of the hand’s growth and whether the glove was produced precisely for it. In Adorno’s view, there is a glove to every hand, and each pairing will result in a quality of fit determined by the wearer’s immanent criteria. In this way the latter tends closer towards Hegelianism. The practical task is to unite these hands in the upwards-thrust, closed fist of revolution.

In theory, Marxism as critical science views itself as making abductive inferences, developing a view of history as such that is in every sense of the word, progressive. Inductive reasoning can be difficult to distinguish from abductive reasoning, and their difference will have much to do in the last instance with the epistemic culture of the groups of knowers/actors making historical inferences. What characterizes a tendency towards making abductive inferences in an epistemic culture would be an openness to the frailty of one’s explanations. Modesty in epistemology comes at a tax that can only be filled by dedication to praxis. This is precisely the disturbing problem in differentiating between inductive and abductive inferences in historicity theory; historicist theory can be said in general to be in the mode of making abductive inferences, while in practice its aim is to make inductive inferences.

To make the move to historical abduction is not to collapse into theoretical relativism. We can still talk about structures of reasoning, the logic that leads from evidence to explanation through the categories of experience. The benefit is that it gets us closer to creative collaboration in mass movements. The danger is that it becomes a farce of itself, turning the gap between theory and material reality, the field of practice, into an absolute principle, that severs theory’s concern for practice. Such was the great failure of the Frankfurt School, whose members – save perhaps for Marcuse, and Georg Lukacs and Karl Korch, each at some point associates – were never adequate to the task of revolutionary practice, for all of their theoretical developments.

Orthodox Marxist traditions heavily influenced by the “scientific socialism” of the Second International will find themselves especially en garde against any appearance of relativism, openly hostile, as Lenin was, to any separation of theory and practice. This informed his lengthy polemic in Materialism and Empirio-Criticism. Lenin was not aware that the gap between theory and practice was a necessary one, as evidenced by the very physicists whom he critiqued in that work over the decades to follow. His aim at the time Empirio-Criticism was written was a definite political one: to defeat the speculative metaphysics being cranked out by reformists antithetical to the revolution. Lenin’s superb flexibility in theory meant that he rarely deviated from what was required in political practice. Today, the best way for Marxism to move forward is to step outside of its own space of representations into the field of possibilities that it itself opened up; the new field of materialist critique is theoretically pluralist; the new insurrection against the establishment of facts and counter-facts, multiple, massively dispersed and organic. The only way to consciously and consistently maintain this line is to remain concretely committed to praxis (theory has no outside); to throw oneself into the mud of that slippery surface between theory and practice that maintains their distance as at a critical threshold.

How better to take our first steps towards doing this than by reclaiming that great gulf that was opened by the separation of theory and practice in Marxism, resulting in the slippages of the Frankfurt School, of so much post-1968 academic Marxism, with all of its malaise and contempt for revolution? The law of combined and uneven development also applies to the relation between theory and practice; in the pluralistic field of material struggle, one could add ‘exclusive and complementary’ to the list.


Coda: On historical induction and the will to mastery. 

There is one further element, which Marcuse, Horkheimer, Adorno and the rest were reacting against in their philosophies. In a Heideggerian vein – Marcuse was a student of Heidegger’s in the 1920s, and continued to work using much of the one-time mentor’s conceptual frameworks, despite thoroughly denouncing his politics – the Frankfurt Marxist intelligentsia mourned the end of metaphysics in the humanistic ideals represented by the Enlightenment, and saw instead the rising of a metaphysics of technology, installing itself into humanity’s historical essence. This metaphysics undergirds the way we approach, observe and order human and non-human natures. It is incipient in the one-dimensionality of society, politics and philosophy, in the culture industry and the apparent desire of the masses for fascism. It is precisely these tendencies that Adorno and Horkheimer present as latent in the repressive rational human experiment carried out in Europe on a grand scale, the “Enlightenment”.

In Heidegger’s language, it means that the essence of technology has displaced the essence of humanity or Being from its center, which repositions Being’s relation to beings, how the latter manifest themselves to the human. Everything appears as through the lens of a technological ordering; the term “human-resources” as a kind of corporate man-management is especially indicative of this. ‘Technology’ in this sense is not confined to any particular gadget or device. “The essence of technology is nothing technological,” says Heidegger. What he has in mind is the way humanity exists in the mode of Enframing (Gestellen – Heidegger’s word) objects in nature, as resources that are exploitable, and how this further manifests the human as a technological object, a quantum of exploitation, in relation to itself. Marx drew similar insights from the commodification of labour power and the alienation of labour under capitalism.

Marxists are not anti-technology. Their entire theoretical apparatus is constructed on the notion of absolute progress. This was precisely the danger, as identified by the Frankfurt School. The notion of ‘progress at all costs’, in their day, ran a terrifying balance, between the Soviet Union and its degeneration into the Stalinist bureaucracy, Nazi Germany, and the always ‘bigger ‘n’ better’ American-style capitalism. Marxists are also of the view that capitalism, and not technology, oppresses people, and so we should put technology in the hands of the workers and not of capitalists. Fair point. The Frankfurt School was most fecund in a time of capitalist crisis on a world scale, the likes of which had never before been seen. All was danger in the system as they saw it, both at the poles of power and their resistance; this much is symbolically represented by stability at the precipice of the policy of “mutually-assured destruction” during the Cold War.

Heidegger, however, wrote not only of the ‘danger’, but also of the ‘saving power’ in the essence of technology. This seems a notion that the Frankfurt School, like Marcuse, reject out of hand along with his politics or searing anti-Semitism – probably they are right to. It is of some interest here to point out that Marcuse rarely if ever owed up to his debt to Heidegger in terms of his theoretical framework, seeming instead to externalize his unconscious guilt and conscious distaste for Heidegger in the figure of Hannah Arendt, whom he admonished for continuing to be a self-conscious Heideggerian in the postwar period. I shall only indicate here that, perhaps, had Marcuse approached his own ideas self-consciously through Heideggerian thought, some greater optimism may have manifested in his works on humanity’s relation to technology in the era of mass production. Or perhaps the time was always past for that manner of thinking. I continue to write only to account for a possible blind spot in Marcuse’s own position, which I believe is reflected in the one I take up presently.

Heidegger was a romantic, who fell for the false poetry of Nazism, becoming one of its most significant intellectual supporters. But revolutionaries are also romantics, stomaching an unhappy consciousness following on the law of the heart (which Hegel thought doomed to be crushed in the world). Aesthetics are a paramount concern where one ventures into poetics. I do not know whether it is possible for aesthetics to contain a moral quality, but Heidegger’s aesthetics were purely disgusting if so. But I digress.

The one-dimensionality of philosophy in the technological society speaks to a metaphysical oneness, the complete subsumption by ideology of all of the internal contradictions of society. It is worth mentioning here that the philosophical villain in Adorno and Horkheimer’s Dialectic of Enlightenment is Parmenides. The rational principle of technology in this sense is a pure logos, an ordered and ordering logocentrism, a complete system of quantification and ubiquitous qualification. The total rationality of the system is one that is free always to defer to the preconception of theory when making inductive historical inferences; the essence of technology gathers together history and encodes it with its own essence, reifies its own immanent history of absolute progress, so to speak. Nothing in nature, which includes history on a materialist conception, escapes the totalizing gaze of the essence of technology.

Except abduction. Heidegger thought that poetry, or poietic revealing (letting ‘things’ ‘bring themselves forth into appearance’, a natural tongue heavily inflected by German romanticism) was key to the ‘saving power’ in technology, which could introduce a rupture into its totalizing essence. Poiesis lets things bring themselves forth while their essence recedes from view, the nothingness or emptiness of beings outside of my Being, present only in its absence, as Heidegger would say. This, I want to suggest, corresponds to the necessary gaps in a historicist theory using the method of abduction. Things bring themselves forth into appearance in a lattice of explanations, but the aura of systematicity setting forth, or setting upon nature from the human, recedes from view, or is destroyed. Things empty themselves of the ordering systematicity imposed on them by technology and mastery, by bringing themselves forth in nature. Such is not to reintroduce metaphysics in our reasoning about nature after the epoch of its death, but rather, to learn to reason humanistically precisely in the wake of metaphysics.

What this opens up, for the first time, in turn, is an historic reasoning resolutely fixed to the past and the now, whose futurity opens up not from the empty promises of a future to come, but rather, as Benjamin wrote in his Theses on the Philosophy of History, from the absolute redemption of the past.

Admittedly, this poses the question of a messianic, rather than an eschatological return to the essence of human history. History is what returns to itself precisely from having never pressed beyond itself into the nothing, into an impossible and preconsciously calculated speculative metaphysics.

Here I have no further arguments or insights; just the view that we have not yet learned to reason as human gods after nihilism, that the eternal is located precisely in the emptiness of a future-bounded history rather than in silent hope for the specter of the return.

tl;dr still extremely skeptical of the Russian hacking debacle. Still loathe Trump. /rant

Two roads have opened up in the Trump vs. his intelligence agencies drama, since Dir. Clapper and other top national intelligence officials doubled down on their position today that Russian hackers acted to interfere with the American election. Either we accept the narrative that Trump is simply “anti-intelligence” (with the full double meaning of the pun), shirking briefings and rifling off fiery tweets as a continuation of his ignorant egotism and general scumminess; or, we begin to question whether it’s possible that the American intelligence community *actually is* this corrupt, whether they would actually deliberately mislead the public from the very top-down, knowing that whatever evidence exists that could prove them right or wrong comes pre-sealed with a twenty-five year timestamp on their declassification, knowing that the elements already exist in the public discourse that are necessary to construe a compelling and cohesive narrative, and knowing that a broad swath of anti-Trump sentiment across the United States will suck in poison gas thanking you for whatever life you breathe into it.

Has James Clapper, Director of National Intelligence, deliberately deceived the public? This isn’t a new question. This is the same James Clapper who bluntly lied before a Senate Select Committee about the data-collection practices of the NSA, just months prior to the Snowden revelations. The shock that Clapper hasn’t been indicted for perjury is only matched by the shock in Senator Ron Wyden’s voice as he, incredulously, gave Clapper the chance to amend his answer after knowingly being made to bite down on his bald faced lie about the NSA’s spying activities. Clapper doubled down then, and he did it again when Wyden gave him a third chance to revise his answer at the end of the hearing.

Clapper is no stranger to deception, nor to gambling on his luck – which is a good fortune afforded him by the established ruling elites. The house always wins. This hearing will likely be his last hurrah, as Clapper has already tendered his resignation, effective the day of Trump’s inauguration.

Has the CIA, the FBI, or any other National Intelligence organization in the United States deliberately deceived the public? This, also, is not a new question. As mentioned previously, any evidence that could attest the truth or falsity of the claims being made by American national intelligence won’t be declassified for thirty years. The common defense on being pressed for further evidence has been that the intelligence community can’t put themselves at the risk of exposing the inner apparatus of their intelligence gathering machine; to do so would be to put operatives, technological methods and developments at risk. Fortunately, due to the same rule, there is no shortage of declassified CIA documents coming out today from 25 years ago, which include (among other things) funding rebel groups, backing contras and coups; in short, interfering in and influencing the democratic processes of their enemies abroad. What did they do when the smell of the smoking gun reached American noses?

You can read up on this yourself in the daily briefings of the Nixon and Ford administrations, declassified in summer 2016 and on the CIA webpage, among others. Or read up on the contras in Nicaragua, in Chile, etc., under Reagan. These administrations, most assuredly, were not known for openness about their quasi- or outright illicit activities. Neither are the institutions that hold up their house.

The illusion is that we have to choose a side and stick with it. Is Trump a wanton, irrational buffoon? Or would the American National Intelligence community lie to the face of the American public? That “or” is an inclusive disjunction; the answer to both questions is a resounding *yes*.

Of course, there is one blip of new information. Added to the broad network of spying activities American intelligence is foisting on the Russians now is the alleged spreading of fake news to interfere with the U.S. election. Unless they mean the routinely propagandistic national news agency RT (what national news agency isn’t routinely propagandistic?), there doesn’t appear to be much substance on offer here, either. But “fake news” is on the public radar, it’s in the zeitgeist; something we’re keenly aware of, on guard for, something Facebook has recently been pressed by intelligence officials the world over into monitoring and scripting out (read: censoring). Wouldn’t it be the ultimate irony if the substance of this “fake news” talk, its alienated truth, turned out just to be the fake news itself reminding us to remain vigilant, to be sublimely wary of fakeness?

If so, that irony falls back double on us; because history is repeating itself, and we’ve been in this jam before. “It is the explosion of man’s face in laughter, and the return of masks.” So this time, if we laugh, rather than act, rather than organize to act, we will be laughing not at this great political-economic, cultural-ideological machine for which we have such contempt; but rather in the face of each other person who’s mired in this shit with us. We’ll be laughing not at the mechanics of repression, but on the faces of the repressed.

P.S. I do not doubt that there are Russian cyber-surveillance and cyber-attacks directed at the U.S., just as there are from the U.S. directed at many other countries in the world. But there are much more obvious, much more glaring and, I think, consequential truths to be gleaned from all this muck. The conditions of possibility for truth reveal themselves in the outlines of discourse itself; and discourse produces powers, sets the instruments of power into motion.

When inglorious ghosts vote south of the border: storm winds blowing into sunny Canada

Tuesday the 8th – evening.

Roll a nice tight joint and pour out a glass of not-too-inexpensive Canadian rye whiskey, and do whatever it is you to do curl up into a big ball of “I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-reality-anymore”. Hold onto your cats or your children and mourn the end of western democracy and fine delicate liberal sensibilities. The Canadian dollar is currently trading (on the Asian markets) at $1.35 US [edit: this appears to have stabilized now, more or less, despite the relative instability of global markets]. Pot may be the only sector of the United States economy still standing by the end of the week, with California and Massachusetts and a handful of other states voting pro-legalization in open-ballot initiatives, and mostly the entire population clamoring for an herbal reedy for the psychotic break their hallowed snake skin republic is currently collectively experiencing. (As it turns out only about 20% of Americans now live in green-free zones, but mass migration is never outside of the question where such crises are concerned).

My shares in this green capitalist venture on the TSX should fare relatively well, at least against the shaking and convulsing global market economy.

This unnaturally hot November evening in Victoria I reigned in what may be the beginning of the end of the long 20th-century with the members of an NDP student club based at a local university, their festivities infiltrated by clandestine pockets of unconscious Maoists, conscious Trotskyists, even a bona fide “black magic” psychoanalyst in the school of Wilhelm Reich (and Peter Carroll, renowned chaos sorcerer of the underground). Already by the time of my arrival at around 7pm early results were pouring in that Trump was leading in Ohio and New Hampshire, that Michigan and Florida were dead heats, that “if Trump has an actual path to the presidency, this is what it looks like” (in the words of one gilded CBC political pundit).

The sentiment in the room resembled that of a so-called “celebration of life” ceremony for that one uncle that nobody really cared for, all the anticipation pointing towards what the old dead bastard might have left behind in his will, having always been a part of the family but never one for open displays of affection or concrete details on his plans. What will President Trump give us? Besides flagrant misogyny, racism and xenophobia, bitterly reactionary nationalism, etc. – all of the rhetorical trappings of the forces of reaction and the “what’s-old-is-new-again” ‘Alt-Right’ populism. Will he tear up NAFTA and TPP and muster up all of the exeunt forces of production drawn out of the American industrial heartland – old boys Oklahoma and North Dakota – under the economic relations of capitalist globalization? It’s doubtful. Almost certainly open hostilities between moderate Republicans and the presumptive presidential elect (providing he doesn’t get assassinated between now and his inauguration) will cool off as the party becomes confident of its sweeping majority, its place atop the twin-heads of political power in the United States, in the White House and Congress, sealed. Trump will dump his enraged white Christian working class supporters faster than Paul Ryan can whisper the names of the Koch brothers into his ears. A political split doesn’t seem likely – only an aggravation of the existing split that made this whole chaos incarnate end-of-days dog and pony show a veritable possibility to begin with: the split between a disenfranchised and disillusioned mass political agency, and an all-powerful elite class in whose feeble hands political and economic power has been concentrating for decades, if not the whole godforsaken long 20th-C.

The count continues to roll in and around the time that that overgrown Oompa Loompa with the dead dog wig posts a nigh 40-point lead on “crooked” Hillary – prior to California’s first poll station readouts – the mood turns from one of uncertainty and slight perturbance to deep disturbance and catastrophism. Some student lefties leave to procure a greater supply of hard liquor for the party, while one who I’m told is an officer of the club can be heard singing to herself, “We’re all gonna die! We’re all gonna die…” [In the few days following the election, I came to gain a deeper appreciation and understanding of these kinds of reactions.] Overall [the night] was a party atmosphere in steep decline, the event of a party that got confused somewhere along the line and took itself in the Dionysian sense, coping with a buzzkill of existential proportions and making a drinking game out of the spectacular reality-TV version of the farce of neoliberalism in its death knell while schizophrenically losing itself in among the game’s tragic cast of actors. So all the boozehounding really was cathartic. For all the doom, gloom and delirium of the millennial student left, you’d think we could get a little credit, instead of slack-jawed talk from political commentators in the US blaming Trumpamania 2016 on the unpredictable millennial vote. Has anybody at USA Today or The Daily Beast stopped to ask what puts millennials in such desperate and despicable conditions that they’d be inclined to vote for such a cantankerous lout? [Exit polls show 52% of millennials that voted actually voted for Hillary – but the 2016 election had the lowest young voter turnout rate of any election since 1972, when Nixon was re-elected.]

What happens if there is violence – real, physical violence of the confrontational and oppressive sort – as a result of this hair-brained Houdini great escape from the shackles of democratic liberalism, or liberal democracy? It seems almost inevitable. Violence against women, race riots, semi-autonomous pogroms patrolling poor black or Latino neighbourhoods and mosques like polling stations, emboldened neo-fascist Second Amendment kooks, spooks and Klansmen. Of course it seemed inevitable either way, with those same kooks and Klansmen and President Plastic Surgery Cheesy Puff’s inflammatory anti-democratic pre-election gab, maintaining he’d accept the result of America’s vote “only if he wins,” and practically instructing self-armed militiamen and reactionary goons to suppress all dissenting political agencies – mainly women, Latinos, blacks (though the latter, so far, to less of an extent than most pollsters predicted, with early voting numbers in decline compared with Obama’s 2008 run at the White House). We know by now that such reactionary elements wouldn’t exist without the gutting of the American working class in the 80s and the 90s, that globalization has its winners and losers and the losers are always below the class of financiers, earning their bread through work, and not speculation. The great parched belly-up turtle of a dry American Midwest, sapped of industrial productivity, before briefly wetted by the paranoiac imperialist oil ventures of the late 70s, 90s and early 2000s especially, but finally exacerbated and brought to the brink by the 2008 financial crisis. The violence of the expansion of American empire now exists inside of US borders, staring itself in the face is the project of global capitalist expansion, as if into a Fun House mirror, all bent out of shape and distorted. The contradictions of production contain their own wacky logic. “The wall” is a paranoiac political demand, lashing out from some deeply-seated discomfort and anxiety wreaked in America’s own baseball and apple-pie unconsciousness.

At a dinner party earlier this week a retired engineer friend told that bookies were giving solid odds on a Trump victory – better odds than the pollsters were showing. Of course the bookies speculate against speculation, trying to eke a profit off of profit. So goes the logic of American neoliberalism today, speculating for and against speculation itself. Had I not been working-poor myself and a student and somewhat cowardly with my money I might have placed a bet. We all feel like we’re “living on the edge” of something at the present juncture: the edge of history, perhaps. Michael Moore said Donald Trump could be the “last president” of the United States of America, but it was decidedly a hyperbolic comment and, at any rate (forgiving the ad hominem attack), Michael Moore is a hack.

All of these forces exist in ugly old America, trembling before God, convulsing and prostrate, the “Land of the Free”. Unbridled hatred for women and racial minorities bubbling over – there is still open hostility to women entering the workforce and existing as equal partners in civil society and the world in America; over 600 unarmed black men have been shot this year, and millions of black men from poverty-stricken upbringings work in incarceration in private for-profit prisons in conditions of modern day slave-labour, many serving time for petty possession charges. Good that we’ll all be riding the green wave for some much needed mellowing of counterproductive and racist drug policies, if nothing else. Income inequality is growing rather than shrinking. Average household buying power steadily increased after the postwar period through the early 70s – with similar trends in Canada – but today are lower than they were 40 years ago. Most rural white Trumpeters come from communities that are almost entirely reliant on single factories for their viability and economic stability, making the Clinton era of free trade and the reality of rampant factory closures a living nightmare. Hillary Clinton’s most telling rebuttal to that hardiest of Trumpisms in this year’s presidential debates was, “We’re great because we’re good.” Hillary meant the message in a moral sense, but it can’t help but seem to put her at one (or more) steps removed from the stark realities of the status quo in America. Pollsters and financiers alike speculate on just the kind of status quo Hillary would have provided – so today they are in an only partially predictable panic.

What is left out of the calculations of this structural state of affairs, what escapes its algorithms is precisely this untold story, this conjured up narrative, what we might call a haunting “specter of Marx” (to borrow unapologetically from Derrida). It turns out Trump’s camp was more or less right about the “Silent Majority” theory. Whether it was pollsters overlooking crucial points in the formation of their questions, or decent ordinary folk ashamed to admit to anonymous mid-afternoon surveyors (and perhaps, to admit to themselves) their latent sympathies for whatever bat-out-of-hell flashback fever dream Trump gives the appearance of offering, it doesn’t matter much. Inglorious ghosts vote south of the border; in their rage they’ll haunt both the conjurer and his house, the hallowed halls of the world’s oldest democracy.

I had brought a bag of leftover Halloween candies to the NDP event which was mostly devoured except for the pixie sticks, which no sensible person enjoys. Vices for each to drown in, in their own way. Snacking on Caramilks and Sour Patch Kids and various other good tidings of capitalist modernity, we debate its downfall amid the fall of the American Empire. “Debate” – I wish I could use so strong a word. We shoot shit, shout and commiserate, making some progress where we fumble through theory. Maybe millions are doing the same at this very moment.

The violence, the forces of reaction that have now thrust themselves out into the open, weren’t inexistent before. They were all still there, silent, timid or unaccounted for, like pocket lint or old change or a dead rat in the toe of your boot. Part of the conditions of possibility leading up to the Trump crisis appear in a generations long vacuum in political unity and leadership on the left, lending itself to oligopoly and centralization among deeply entrenched political powers towards the center-right. Now the contemporary “progressive” Liberal left has no idea what it stands for or against, alternating between progressive empty talk and actual austerity, while disenfranchised masses – ghosts – are left without political representation. It wouldn’t be much of a mystery to discover high numbers of former Bernie Sanders supporters who voted for Donald Trump – the DNC made a vain and gross miscalculation in sabotaging his campaign, so some leaked emails are saying. The levels of discontent with the political system in America today are astounding. A Trump presidency, at least, has the silver lining of stirring up from quietude all these reactionary elements, foisting them out into the open as a clear target for the left to seize upon. In the case of actual fascism, as with history’s Hitlers and Mussolinis, the phenomenon does not stop with good-hearted Liberals crying out impassioned anti-fascismo. It stops with organizing against and attacking the fascists.

But let us keep our hands and our feet firmly planted inside of the vehicle at all times and not put the time too far “out of joint,” as Hamlet says, drawing conclusions from beyond our own history. I do not think that Trump is a fascist per se, even if the comparisons are inviting.

Curiously, in the short term, Trump could have the effect of pulling Justin Trudeau’s Liberals to the left on free-trade deals, which could bring them further into line with their election promises than with their preferred governing style. Will Justin’s “Sunny Ways” essence-of-selfie-stick fuzzy aura of hugs and hope hold off any latent anti-establishment sentiment or anti-globalizationist reaction in the Great White North? How will the Prime Minister of Canada take part in negotiations regarding the USA’s role, along with Canadian and other NATO military allies’, in monitoring the borders of Eastern Europe to protect against potential Russian threats from KGB Vlad? And will our economy boom or bust from the swell of American immigrants – perhaps we should call them refugees, fleeing a political crisis zone (here I kid; however, the Citizenship and Immigration Services section of the Government of Canada website did crash today, possibly because workers responsible for maintaining this key piece of infrastructure are refusing to work due to nonpayment from the spectacularly failing PHOENIX payroll system that’s hanging over half of Ottawa like a big red wet pocketbook. Possibly, but not likely.)

We can laugh and drink and enjoy the rising value of BC bud and housing prices and raise a glad to our southern neighbours in commiseration and confusion, some of us, with an air of smug superiority. The hangover will only be the realization that we are not immune, that this is the real world and it is hideous and cruel.

But, provided they don’t continue to delude themselves – and with a nod to the accelerationists – this study in history, and its attendant clarification of political aims could serve as a lightning rod for the disillusioned and directionless progressives. Likely only in the event of a storm on domestic soil. Thunder and lightning clouds a-brewin’ for good-old-fashioned prairie socialism! The kind of organization the Canadian left has been lacking for decades.

Maybe not – but Canadians do love talking about the weather. Storm winds are blowing down south of the border and they do look bound for a northerly push. It’s time the stormwatchers don their galoshes and prepare to organize our way out of the coming of the new political reality.

Marxism and the Philosophy of Ideology, pt. III

See Part II of this series here.

Historical consciousness develops along with the material forces of history, and not through abstract rationality, as Hegel thought. Today, the mass of rational human subjects discovers their environment not as something self-alienated – that is, produced both by themselves and for themselves, as Hegel’s conservativism led him to regard in his own Enlightenment culture – but rather as an environment imposed with the hegemony of capitalism’s cultural, political, social, scientific and economic spaces. This point, of course, does not disprove the dialectical synthesis of Hegel’s view – it only adds to it a necessary material dimension. The mass of human subjects is entirely subordinated to the hegemonic rationality of the bourgeoisie, in the logical space carved out by capitalism. The reality of this logic is based entirely on abstractions, fictions drawn from the material forces of history and distorted in order to perpetuate the cultural authority and political power of the bourgeoisie.

Because the social existence of the proletariat is not at the same time its existence within a proletarian culture, ideology is driven into the working class, rather than revealed, in the last, to be something of themselves and for themselves. Althusser calls this driving force “interpellation”, which also means ‘hailing’ or ‘calling-forth’. Ideology calls us forth in the same way that police officers do when they hail you (‘Hey, you there!’). In the eyes of the Repressive State Apparatus, your existence is only as an abstract quantity, until so hailed, at which point said existence is qualitatively transformed, in this case, into that of a suspect.[1] It is the same with ideology.

This is, perhaps, the trickiest part to grasp of the philosophical puzzle concerning the functioning of ideology. Ideology hails us from the very instant we are born, at which moment we take on the label of being a son or a daughter, hence starting us towards developing a consciousness of ourselves as within the bourgeois family unit. Althusser makes some rather paradoxical comments at this stage about the nature of ideology: first, claiming that “ideology has no outside,”[2] meaning simply that the illusion of ideology is ever present, the task of science (specifically, of historical materialism) being to shatter this illusion; and second, that ideology “has no history,”[3] which makes sense if we consider that history belongs to the material processes which, in the last instance, determine particular ideologies, and are beyond them. If there is an outside of ideology, it is in the material processes of history. The history of ideology, because imaginary, is necessary immaterial.

Marxist science studies material processes and the most general dialectical laws that govern them. It does not deal in abstractions or imaginaries. However, it is necessary to understand the expression of the general laws in the imaginaries as well, in order to fully grasp the functioning of ideology. Individuals hailed by ideology are hailed as individual subjects. What does it mean to be a subject? Althusser offers an instructive example, in the case of Christian religious ideology:

… there can only be … a multitude of possible religious subjects on the absolute condition that there is a Unique, Absolute, Other Subject, i.e. God… God thus defines himself as the Subject par excellence, he who is through himself and for himself (‘I am that I am’), and he who interpellates his subject, the individual subjected to him… i.e. the individual named Moses. And Moses, interpellated-called by his Name, having recognized that it ‘really’ was he who was called by God, recognizes that he is a subject, a subject of God, a subject subjected to God, a subject through the subject and subjected to the Subject. The proof: he obeys him, and makes his people obey God’s Commandments.[4]

The God of the market is a many-faced God, but the general laws of ideology are the same. Ideology mirrors itself in its subjects, and individual subjects mirror themselves in ideology. Xenophanes of Colophon once remarked that, if oxen and horses had a religion, their gods would be painted with hooves[5] –Althusser adds that the oxen and horses would recognize themselves as real oxen and horses only on the condition of their semblance with their behooved gods. This generally holds true in the case of commodity fetishism under capitalism. The forces of capitalist production become fetishized, inscribed with a certain commodity value, and this recognition is doubled by that of the workers, who recognize themselves as commodities – that is, they recognize their embodied labour as obeying the logic of the commodity value-form. They recognize their labour power as a quantity of money, which can be exchanged with other commodities.

Fetishization occurs when the concrete or use-value of a product is invested entirely with abstract and imaginary quantities, detached from the actual processes of production that created the product in question, as in the transformation of productive processes by capitalism into commodity-production. Ideology overflows with the logic of fetishization, producing facts and formal logics completely separated from the material processes that gave rise to them. Religious iconography provides an overwhelming wealth of examples, but we may also observe this in the case of scientific revolutions, where old hardened dogmatists have often struggled not to give up belief in some entities, once thought real, which came to be thoroughly disproved in the face of new evidence; such was the case in Antoine Lavoisier’s discovery of oxygen in the 18th-century, having first observed the process of oxidization, against which one Joseph Priestley defended the old theory of dephlogisticated air to the bitter end.

Under the general logic of fetishization, what-there-is is completely detached from how what-there-is is produced. The chemical dispute of Lavoisier and Priestley was but a trite example compared with the more devious ways in which ideology and fetishism combine in capitalist society to carve out imaginary divisions between concrete individuals. We often hear of the fetishization of gender, and race. The history of the western fetishization of Asian women, for example, extends back to the 15th-century, taking an upturn in the 18th, at the dawn of industrial capitalism, when European – mainly British – trade with Japan and China sharply increased. The sexual stereotype of Asian women as exotic and submissive is directly tied to the colonial history of western imperialist powers; this is an example of fetishization, because it leads to a valuation and, fundamentally, a misrecognition of individuals, having nothing to do with their material reality. Naturally, elements of the ideological apparatus combine in various ways. The fetishization of Asian women in the early days of British imperialism combines with the existing bourgeois ideology of the family, which envisions women as an extension of private property.

Fetishization becomes particularly dangerous in the era of capitalist globalization. The façade of multiculturalism is paraded before the material reality of capitalism’s cultural hegemony. As capitalism conquers the cultural sphere, the logic of the fetish becomes a way not only to misrecognize others in an imaginary way, but also to misrecognize oneself. Consider the self-experience of a transgendered person. At a certain point, their material reality as an embodied subject breaks with the ideological categories of gender imposed by capitalism and the rise of the state in institutions extending property rights into persons, which are typically identified as the structures of patriarchy.[6] Similarly, the proletariat exists for the most part under the stupor of bourgeois ideology driven by the culture industry; fetishization is driven by consumption, and it often takes some earth-shattering material event, such as a general strike or a steep and prolonged economic crisis, to shake workers from the consumption of their own manufactured submissiveness to exploitation. Both are conditions for the reproduction of capitalism’s productive forces.

The only way to break definitively with ideology and the logic of fetishization is with a scientific view consistently grounded in material reality. This is precisely the project of dialectical materialism. Just as with the example I gave of the transgendered individual, the revolutionary proletariat has the potential break with ideology by discovering its material reality. The science that aims at this is inherently revolutionary, because the material reality of the proletariat as a class is one and the same with the motor force of history, which is a real material force. The material reality of the transgendered person is as an individual; the material reality of the working class is as a collective. This thesis underlies the science of historical materialism.

As was seen in the case of the Christian religious ideology, the condition of the unity of individual subjects was external, subjected to and imagined to be of God’s will. With the working class, this condition of unity is intrinsic to their very material reality. The functioning of ideology disrupts the ability of the proletariat to recognize its own material reality, by carving up relations between individuals with imaginary divisions and distortions. Fetishization serves both to multiply and crystallize these divisions.

This misrecognition is at the heart of the functioning of ideology, which aims to root the building class consciousness of the proletariat out like a weed. But weeds will drive through every crack, and so too with the revolutionary will of the workers.

We have only to take on the additional task, as builders of the subjective factor of the revolution, i.e., of the revolutionary party, to attack ideology wherever it exists. This can be done only by subjecting ideology and ISAs to a consistent material critique, revealing the productive forces and reproductive dynamics underlying them.

Postscript – on the subjective factor, the revolutionary vanguard party.

Some of you might be asking, what of the subjective factor of the revolution – the need for a revolutionary vanguard party, to combine with the objective, material factor of the mass of workers and their incipient class consciousness? Is this Subject another form of Absolute, like God, unique to a particular form of ideology? Any worker who believes this will have gravely misrecognized their material reality. Hegel says,

Self-consciousness is in itself and for itself when and because it is in itself and for itself for another; that is, that it is recognized as such.[7]

This recognition is accomplished when the subjective and objective factors enter into a unity – when the mass of workers definitively combines with the theoretical understanding and advanced consciousness of the revolutionary vanguard. This recognition is possible because it accords with the material reality of the proletariat; it is historical because this material reality is also the motor force of history. Thus, articulating the Marxist philosophy of ideology does not force us to abandon the subjective/objective factor distinction, but rather reminds us that the relation of these two factors is dialectical in nature, with each pole interpenetrating with the other.

[1] Althusser (2009), 48.

[2] Ibid., 49.

[3] Ibid., 34.

[4] Ibid., 52-3.

[5] Ref. in Alan Woods & Ted Grant, Reason in Revolt, 2nd ed. (London: Wellred Books, 2012), 42.

[6] Engels, Origins of the Family, Private Property, and the State (1884), especially Ch. 2-4.

[7] Hegel, Phenomenology of Spirit (1807), §178. My translation and emphasis.

Marxism and the Philosophy of Ideology, pt. II

See Part I of this series here.

We need only think of Wal-Mart’s notorious anti-union propaganda ‘training’ videos to see the force of ideology in action. Unions are a counterbalance to the unbridled anarchy of capitalist production. They’re also a threat to the power of the capitalist class. Producing an anti-union consciousness is a particularly effective, and pernicious way of reproducing capitalist power and production.

Now, most instances of ideology in action aren’t as obvious as the Wal-Mart example. Capitalism is not only an economic system – it is a cultural force. Capitalism is able to reproduce its relations of production in countless ways, both on the factory floors and beyond them. This insight takes us from ideology as it exists in concrete relations of capitalist production, to ideology as it exists as a state apparatus under capitalism. It is this which leads Althusser to turn our attention from ideology in general, to the historical development of Ideological State Apparatuses, in general.

An Ideological State Apparatus (ISA) is a special breed of Repressive State Apparatus, the latter of which secures through the direct use of force the political conditions for the functioning of the former. The Repressive State Apparatus is the direct arm of state power: police, the military, etc. Thus, a division of labour exists between the two kinds of state apparatuses. Althusser does suggest that a particular state apparatus is not likely to operate wholly either by ideology or by direct repression, but rather holds that “the (Repressive) State Apparatus functions massively and predominantly by repression, whereas the Ideological State Apparatuses function massively and predominantly by ideology.”[1]

For much of humankind’s social development during the pre-capitalist historical period, the Church was the singular, dominant ISA in society.[2] During the French Revolution of the 18th-century, it was absolutely essential that the burgeoning capitalist class challenged not only the absolute right to property and ownership of the means of production of the feudal aristocracy, but also the intellectual authority of the Church, as the main ideological support of monarchial power and land right throughout Europe, and beyond.

In the modern period of capitalist development, the central authority of the Church ISA becomes fractured and dispersed through a plurality of new institutions. Education becomes largely the responsibility of a professional class of teachers, rather than priests, in institutions owned and operated either by the state, or privately (which is increasingly the case in the current period of capitalist crisis). In school, we learn bourgeois history, thoroughly revised and “purified” of any revolutionary content; we also learn all of the basic skills required for us to become productive members of capitalist society. Today, even kindergarteners are learning computer programming in school. Just as yesterday, when we trained today’s civil and industrial engineers in the best available physical and social sciences. The basic education one is entitled to receive under capitalism is entirely at the sway of the productive forces in society.

There are other ISAs in the modern period. The parliamentary-political ISA combines universal suffrage with rhetoric and a smattering of reformist policies to produce a basic false consciousness – recently touted quite fervently by Rex Murphy in one of his vacillating centrist CBC rants – that voters possess the ultimate power under bourgeois democracy. Scientific institutions have long produced an understanding of the natural world that consummates the authority of bourgeois rule, for example, through Charles Darwin’s vulgar theory of natural adaptation, which continues to inform much research in evolutionary developmental biology, leading to a view of capitalist society as a social ecology in which the bourgeoisie thrive and survive as a class not off of the backs of exploited workers, but simply because they are the “fittest”. Lastly, broadcast-media ISAs, which create an additional layer of representation atop any experience of material reality, represent not our real conditions of existence as such, but only their imaginary distortion, biased by corporate owners or state sponsors in support of the aims of the capitalist class.

We can see that ISAs exist not only in order to reproduce the forces of capitalist production, but also to reproduce the value-framework of capital, which, in the last instance, amounts to the same thing.

Countless beliefs and representations, signifiers of the capitalist order and the bourgeois imaginary, circulate through the ideological superstructure of society. Now, there is one more element of the functioning of ideology that we have not yet considered. If ideology in ISAs is at its core the totality of beliefs and representations that exist in the bourgeois imaginary about capitalist society, and ideology in general functions to reproduce capitalist productive forces by bringing workers over to belief in the bourgeois worldview, then ideology must, in its functioning, make it so that the working class takes the thought of the bourgeoisie immediately to be its own. If this was not the case, then the mass of workers would quite easily witness the reality of their alienation in the struggle between frameworks of ideas – proletarian and bourgeois, revolutionary or reformist – on the factory floors themselves. The proletariat is not consciously convinced of the bourgeois worldview; rather, no other worldview seems to exist, from the perspective of the individual effectively subdued by the spell of the ISAs.

We should note here that the very crux of Hegel’s early dialectical method, from the Phenomenology of Spirit (1807), proceeds by the overcoming of media (mediations/representations), to a point where consciousness becomes increasingly certain both of itself and the concepts of its understanding; that is, certain of them, immediately. This process iterates itself in each case that the knower – a rational human subject – discovers some part of their environment as self-alienated.

To be continued…

[1] Althusser (2009), 23. My emphasis.

[2] Ibid., 25.

Marxism and the Philosophy of Ideology

This is the first of a multi-post series based on a leadoff I gave June 10th, 2016, for a Montréal branch of Fightback: the Canadian Section of the International Marxist Tendency (IMT). It approaches the question of ideology from a perspective largely inspired by the structuralist Marxism avowed by Louis Althusser in the late 60s to early 70s.

A prefatory note: Althusser occupies the slightly uncomfortable historical position of having simultaneously given structuralism is clearest theoretical formulation as a critical theory, while demonstrating its limits. Naturally, one asks of the question of ideology, a cui bono – that is, an ideology for whom? from the perspective of which subject? Structuralist critique cannot stand against itself without coming undone – from the perspective of a subject yet to come, or a subject in a different historico-factical situation, what is taken as the material of a science is called ideological, and vice versa. Let it be said that Althusser’s always was an explicitly partisan philosophy. “Class struggle in the field of theory” was for him definitive of philosophy. Thus, that the following presentation is presented from the position of the proletariat as the subject of history, that is, as its motor force, an a priori assumption of the science of historical materialism, should not be considered as a substantive critique, but merely as a partisan difference (with empirical consequences).

Let’s begin with a quote, from the Preface to The German Ideology (1845-6/1932), to help us define our scope.

Once upon a time a valiant fellow had the idea that men were drowned in water only because they were possessed with the idea of gravity. If they were to knock this notion out of their heads, say by stating it to be a superstition, a religious concept, they would be sublimely proof against any danger from water. His whole life long he fought against the illusion of gravity, of whose harmful results all statistics brought him new and manifold evidence. This valiant fellow was the type of the new revolutionary philosophers in Germany.[1]

Our question is a philosophical one: what is ideology? And how does it function? It is also a practical one. How does ideology relate to the oppression and exploitation of the masses in capitalist society? What sorts of material conditions give rise to ideology as an extension of bourgeois power? And, perhaps most importantly, how does one differentiate between ideology and scientific fact? These will be the guiding questions of our present discussion.

First: what is ideology? As Marxists, we are materialists. We are not the sorts of vulgar materialists, who, like Feuerbach, would reduce all of the realm of ideas to the level of material reality, while at the same time holding that the essence of what is material only becomes real in ideology, for example, in Christian theology.[2] Engels skilfully detects this contradiction in Feuerbach’s thought in the 1886 work on the latter.

For Feuerbach, our ability to conceive of an idea so grand as the gods, and to base entire religions around them, showed that ideas somehow have a greater reality than matter. Feuerbach once said of the emergence of rational thought in human subjects as we evolved from the apes, that he agreed with the dialectical materialist view “going backwards, but not forwards”. As dialectical materialists, we argue that rational thought, that consciousness itself, is not beyond matter, but is instead the highest realization of matter. Religion does not surpass matter; religion, at base, has a material reality.

In the same way, ideology has a material existence. This is one of the theses on ideology argued by Louis Althusser, in “Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses”.[3] Ideology exists in the rituals and practices of concrete individuals in material institutions: priests in the Church speaking hocus pocus (‘hoc est corpus meum’) over the Eucharist; Wall Street bankers who perceive the world through the spectacular calculations of bourgeois economics, shuffling about in a panic as the market fluctuates, in a virtual microcosm of the anarchy of capitalist production.

However, if this was all that there was to the substance of ideology, then it would be enough that we seize all of the factories tomorrow in order to topple bourgeois ideology wherever it exists. This is clearly not so. Ideology is an element of the superstructure of bourgeois society. The superstructure is dialectically related to a society’s material base. So, how we function materially produces in us a certain consciousness – ideas about how we ought to function – which we then apply concretely as a way of organizing our labour, along with the productive forces in society. Marx describes the dialectical relation between superstructure and base in The German Ideology, and Althusser further develops this idea in his own work.

This is how, by owning all of the means of production in society, the ruling class also comes to dominate society ideologically. Here, we should recall Marx’s well-known slogan: the ruling ideas in society are the ideas of its ruling class.

Now, how does ideology function – and what does it function to do? The first part of this question, according to Althusser, was not adequately considered by Marx, who instead answers to the second part of the question. Says Althusser,

… it is not their real conditions of existence, their real world, that ‘men’ ‘represent to themselves’ in ideology, but above all it is their relation to those conditions of existence which is represented to them there. It is this relation which is at the centre of every ideological, i.e. imaginary, representation of the real world. It is this relation that contains the ‘cause’ which has to explain the imaginary distortion of the ideological representation of the real world.[4]

Let’s make this a little more clear. If workers represented their real conditions of existence to themselves in ideology, then they would eventually, without fail, develop an advanced class consciousness, simply as a result of the material social relations of their labour. They would recognize themselves as a collective force and will, rather than as individuals, with relative ease. Wouldn’t that simplify the task of the revolutionary party! So, it isn’t the real conditions of the base of society that workers represent to themselves in ideology, but rather the imaginary representations of those conditions, which make up the superstructure of bourgeois society.

For the most part, the working class is not awake to the reality of their exploitation. This is the result of a manufactured social reality imposed by the ruling class, which produces in workers a submissiveness to exploitation. It is not that workers know themselves to be exploited and are unaffected by this fact, but rather that the bourgeois ideology produces a consciousness in individual workers which leads them to believe that their material exploitation is in fact the best of all possible worlds. Ideology is principally a force that reproduces capitalist relations of production, by representing to individuals a positive understanding of themselves as within the framework of capitalist production.

This was the point already made by Marx: “The way in which men produce their means of subsistence depends first of all on the nature of the actual means of subsistence they find in existence and have to reproduce.”[5]

To be continued

[1] Marx, The German Ideology (1932). My emphasis.

[2] Engels, Ludwig Feuerbach and the End of German Classical Philosophy (1886), §2-3.

[3] Althusser, “Ideology and Ideological State Apparatuses” (1970) in On Ideology (New York: Verso, 2009), 39.

[4] Ibid., 38.

[5] Marx (1932), Part I. A: “Idealism and Materialism”. My emphasis.

“A Brief Essay…” published at The Blasted Tree

Today I’m thrilled to announce that an essay I previewed a few months ago on this blog, “A Brief Essay Against All Murder, and the Death Penalty”, has been published by my friends over at The Blasted Tree. You can read the essay on their website here.

The essay itself was originally written in my journal, then posted to my blog, dating February 11th. By ‘the essay itself’, I mean the essay not including the postscript, which is now included in full in the publication by The Blasted Tree.

As the postscript itself indicates, I continue to hold that the essay itself is self-sufficient as an argument against the question set forth by its context, namely that expressed by its title.

Another excerpt.

The title of the essay provides the reader with an approximate thematic summation of the essay’s content. In doing so, the title also offers a sufficient, and possibly necessary condition, for the rendering of a context in which to situate the exact sense of the essay itself. Along with the creation of this context, naturally I take it that the body of the essay itself is a simple sufficient condition for the comprehension of the content of the essay. That is simply to say that the essay is what it is, simply. Taken together, the title and body enjoin a further sufficient condition stating their conjunction as a simple condition of their own comprehension. All of this is to say that the postscript is entirely an afterthought, and a clarification. Strictly speaking, I take it that there is nothing said in this postscript that is not said as such in the essay itself, taken together with its title, which situates one’s reflections about the essay’s content. This postscript is only an extended reflection. Its eventual conclusion is none other than the unresolved question already set forth by the essay itself. It is exactly for the reason that this question is, necessarily, simply unresolved, that justice at the limits of its means of implementation – where it finds itself – finds itself without ground.

One would possibly be expected to give an argument as to what makes a title a sufficient condition for the rendering of a context for an essay, as well as what makes the body of an essay a sufficient condition for the resolution of its content. For the condition of the claim that each of these taken together enjoins an understanding of their conjunction, self-sufficiently entailing a comprehension of the work as a whole, seems to rest on these. Minimally, for either of the independent conditions stated of the title and body of the essay, one could say that each constitutes for itself a necessary condition for its own comprehension, which is for each their particular rendering of a context or content, respectively. This much could be said of any essay, as any piece of writing takes both its own body and title as at least a necessary part of a complete understanding of what it is said to be, or to be about. A title is an accessory, a maquillage, disclosing behind it a face and an inner working. We are not without such accoutrements, and neither are our writings, which are only our bodies of words.


When radical therapies are not at all rad.

A class action lawsuit has been filed by a Toronto law firm over allegations that psychiatric treatments administered at a former Ontario treatment facility, involving radical therapeutic theories and practices, constituted a rare form of psychological torture for many patients. Patients exhibiting psychopathological tendencies actually showed higher rates of violent recidivism as a result of receiving treatment than psychopaths incarcerated in federal prisons.

Interestingly, the Toronto law firm that’s filed the class action suit has claimed that the methods used at the Ontario psychiatric facility had “no basis in science”, while a former research director and her colleagues hold that “[t]here is no doubt that the therapeutic community … was based on sound clinical experience and a solid theoretical understanding of the contemporary literature on the treatment of criminal offenders” (Harris et al., 1994). We can be critical of science in more fruitful ways, without maintaining such stringent demarcation criteria.

The methods used at Oak Ridge were based in part on radical psychiatric theories, not unscientific ones. However, after reading some of the former institution’s publications, I can say that the higher rates of comorbidity of certain types of mental illness (e.g., schizophrenia) with psychopathological behaviour does not seem to have factored into the rates of violent recidivism considered in their outcomes data. Moreover, the thought that massive doses of LSD and other psychotropics, extended periods in isolation and sleep deprivation could easily induce schizophrenic breaks in patients, deemed “glib” (op. cit), and resistant to coercion. Furthermore, Harris et al., fail to realize that the comorbidity of schizophrenia and psychopathy is also higher among violent patients, compared to nonviolent ones (Nolan et al., 1999).

Now, let’s just remember that the matter of ‘having a scientific basis’ is importantly different from the matter of consent, and the violent and coercive implementation of measures established in accordance with scientific beliefs on subjects who, by and large, are not in a position to give consent…

  1. Harris, Grant; Rice, Marnie; Cormier, Catherine, “Psychopaths: Is a Therapeutic Community Therapeutic?” in Therapeutic Communities (1994) 15(4), 283-299.
  2. Nolan, Karen; Volavka, Jan; Mohr, Pavel; Czobor, Pál, “Psychopathy and Violent Behavior Among Patients With Schizophrenia or Schizoaffective Disorder” in Psychiatric Services (1999) 50(6), 787-792.

“How many of them?”: Thoughts on Quantification and the Political Economy of Refugee Populations

Canada is currently preparing to welcome 25,000 Syrian refugees from UN camps in the region, with over 500 staff working in Jordan, Lebanon and Turkey, helping them – swiftly and securely – to find sanctuary.  If our compassion is quantifiable, we should note that 25,000 marks a higher pledge from our newly elected Liberal government than an earlier commitment, less than half as kind; and also, that our 500 staff in the region has been noted (in a recent broadcast of CBC’s The National) as the largest team ever assembled to take on such a task.

If compassion is quantifiable, so too is crisis.  It is easy to feel overwhelmed by the numbers accompanying international efforts to provide assistance to Syrian refugees.  More than half of Syria’s population is currently displayed.  Around 220,000 people have been killed, and nearly 13 million are in urgent need of humanitarian assistance inside of Syria.  So far, only just under 105,000 resettlement places have been offered globally since the start of the crisis (numbers are available here from Amnesty International).  More than 4 million refugees await resettlement in just five neighbouring countries: Turkey, Lebanon, Jordan, Iraq and Egypt; countries still dearly near the beating heart of conflict in the East, of a war waged between the Assad regime in Syria and the myriad cells of anti-Assad rebels (including Daesh) with all of their puppet strings extending directly back to Western imperialists.

I do not wish to address, which has already been addressed many times, the destabilizing role Western imperialist powers have played, and continue to play as an extension of their economic games, in strategically situated regions of the East.  The advanced stage of technocratic security-state capitalism that we see in many Western countries is characterised by this identification and elimination of both local and foreign security threats (called threats of terrorism) through and by the great weapons of mass surveillance, data collection and secretive foreign intelligence collaborations.  In this sense, the war that the West wages on terror is almost mimetic of the late capitalist game: a war waged through sheer numeracy, intelligence and quantification.  Neoliberal modes of management in technocratic capitalist nations tend towards quantification (we see this not only in the administration of government and social services, but also in the public sector and education); and this evaluative policy, of bare numbers and abstract utility, is profoundly alienating.  For the most part, we are able to circulate in our day-to-day without feeling too much this sense of alienation, but refugees – whom some suggest are being circulated and commodified by Western powers as any other economic “good” – have the abstraction of this sheer numeracy driven in to them by the lived reality of their circulation.

I have heard humanitarian resettlement workers make the claim that stability and opportunity are significant determinants in health outcomes for recently immigrated refugees struggling to cope with PTSD, depression, and other mental health disorders, given the traumatic experiences they have endured.  Perhaps this provides some evidence for the former claim.  Through free self-determination in a just Liberal society, we ought to be able to shed the alienation of abstract numeracy that might be felt when we regard ourselves as only a commodity, a “good” exchanged and for exchange.  We can, for now, suspend judgement on the ideological nature of this reality; if freedom under neoliberal capitalism is only an illusion (concealing the reality of freedom for the ruling class at the expense of the emancipatory freedom of the oppressed), we must all the same recognize it as a convincing illusion to explain the dull ideological force held by Western neoliberalism over its consumer class.  It seems then possible to conceive phenomenologically an alienation admitting of degree felt by those whom we seek to integrate into our society.  It seems to me a philosophical dishonesty to deflect efforts to engage this topic only to push the platform of a revolutionary cause that seeks to overcome completely the alienation that is a necessity under the current global economic system, however worthy that cause is.

We can immediately engage with the effects of this overwhelming numeracy of refugee assistance.  And, to an extent, I believe that Canada already has.  Earlier, we posited as premises the quantification of compassion and crisis.  I would like to suggest now that we are forced to negate these premises, recognizing them as something to be overcome.  Quantification is a given in the technological society, inextricable from its modes of management.  At the same time, my lived experience of myself as only an abstract number is profoundly alienating; I add as a corollary that alienation exists as something to be overcome, as part of an ethical responsibility to self.  ‘Alienation’ also has the sense of dispossession (Latin alienare, “to make another’s”); as such, alienating integration seems inauthentic, a resigned acceptance that is simultaneously a creation of difference (“to make an other”).  This othering amounts to a failure to recognize in the refugee population their authenticity of being.  Abstract numbers cannot suffer.  They are not like ‘I’, who is an individual and who can suffer.  Neither are they thereby the ‘we’, which is just an extension of the sufferable ‘I’.

These hard boundaries between beings ought to be broken down.  The sheer numeracy of the refugee crisis is a quantificative codification of their abstract history, some general notion of a history existing through and dissolved into each individual’s history, taken up as an object and translated into the language of a neoliberal mode of management.  The way to overcome this is by way of a face-to-face recognition of the other.  The codification of an abstract history is essentially an exercise of technocratic power, preserving over the immigrant population an alienation that constricts their existence to the being of a dispossessed abstraction.

Levinas remarks, “The human only lends itself to a relation that is not a power”.  In Totality and Infinity, Levinas explains the subject’s relation to the other in terms of the disabling of the subject’s power, a kind of power not to be able to exercise power over the other: “The expression the face introduces into the world does not defy the feebleness of my powers, but my ability for power [mon pouvoir de pouvoir].”  The face signifies an undoing of the very powers of the subject, the powers of representation and comprehension.  In this context, the ethical comes to mean then a disabling of power and an opening of a relation that does not lend itself to power.[1]

From the Canadian perspective, it seems as if there are genuine efforts to welcome refugees into our communities in such a way that discloses to each the face of the other.  Private citizens’ groups are sponsoring many families, providing assistance with everything from school registration for children to Social Insurance Number applications.  It is true that many such groups are affiliated either with members of refugees’ families who have already immigrated to Canada, or with Churches; however, I do not think that this defies the claim that our efforts to welcome refugees have aimed, in a partial but genuine way, at the undoing of the alienation of abstraction under the exercise of the powers that both displaced and now welcome the refugee population.  For Levinas, the face-to-face relation transcends the historical and factical situatedness in which being finds itself in recognition of what is other to it.  Perhaps our recognition of the face of the other has the capacity to undo (to the extent that is possible given our greater state of alienation under late capitalist society) some of the deleterious effects on the exercise of state power, as a matter of perceived necessity, on a population of the traumatized and needy.  And perhaps this is something to be proud of.

Our history of integrating refugees in Canada has been far from perfect in the past.  But as a country that makes efforts to embrace its multiculturalism, in spite of a checkered past, we can find cause for optimism in the response of Canadians to the Syrian refugee crisis, if only as the site of a face-to-face with the abstract and (can we say?) dehumanizing quantification of entire populations under the rules of the game of post-imperialist Western political economy.  The question of what Canadian culture itself is, is bound to become more stark in periods where the mass integration of a population becomes inevitable; inauthentic appropriation is as harmful, as alienating, perhaps even more so, than inclusion only as an abstraction of “otherness”.  As the question will arise in the current state of crisis, perhaps we can answer that, rather than one that sees its responsibility in the other in their circulation as mere “goods” in need of shelter and organic subsistence, we are one that recognizes its responsibility in the face of the other.  And this, if only so that we may play our small part in undoing the very powers which hold us all in an alienating subjection.

[1] Krzysztof Ziarek, “Which Other, Whose Alterity? The Human after Humanism” in Between Heidegger and Levinas (New York: State University of New York Press, 2014), 230.  Excerpts are from Levinas, Basic Philosophical Writings; and also his Totality and Infinity.

No Fallout, Not Now

One has to distinguish between this “reality” of the nuclear age and the fiction of war. But, and this would perhaps be the imperative of a nuclear criticism, one must also be careful to interpret critically this critical or diacritical distinction. For the “reality” of the nuclear age and the fable of nuclear war are perhaps distinct, but they are not two separate things.[1]

No Fallout, not now.  I’ve got work to do.  Books to read.  Writing to attend to.  Firmly, I must decline your invitation, deflect your advance, reject your seductions of nuclear waste and romantic post-apocalypticism.  No, Fallout; I shall resist my life’s melting at the border of your nuclear war, your diagesis, your critical imperative.  May god have mercy on my productivity.

No Fallout, Not Now.  Jacques Derrida, in a 1984 issue of Diacritics, takes on the speed and sheer imminence of global mass suicide by nuclear auto-obliteration: “No Apocalypse, Now Now”[2].  ‘Speed’ appears as an irreducible new phenomenon of the Cold War era.  Speed is a temporality of us collectively careening towards our ownmost destruction.  There is no right speed.  Speed is an ever-present, in which we immerse ourselves critically to confront ‘remainderless destruction’, the perspective of the (final) war, “the first war which can be fought in the name of the name alone, that is, of everything and of nothing.”[3]  A war not quite between Being and non-Being, but between Being and its Other, non-Being for it. 

The idea evokes the image of Dr. Strangelove’s Major Kong, riding the atom bomb like a rodeo bull, full speed ahead… 

I load up Fallout 4 for the first time.  I am telling myself that this does not constitute procrastination.  I am thrust into a new world with astonishing, decentering and dislocating speed.  I awaken.  I have a wife and a son.  I have a robot.  My family has place in Vault 111.  Nuclear weaponry obliterates several major American cities.  I am thrust into Vault, cryogenically frozen (asleep through the war) and awakened to behold my wife’s murder and my son’s capture.  It is a new world into which I am so violently thrown.  These events make up the first few moments of gameplay in Fallout.

We expect this speed with the apocalypse; apocalypse promises to be cataclysmic, a truly explosive spectacle.  Fallout consummates this expectation.  But we are not so much ‘fallen’, as ‘thrown’ into the fable of the post-apocalyptic nuclear age.  For Heidegger, Verfallenheit (‘fallenness’) had to do with the historical and factical situation into which Being finds itself always already born: for example, in Being & Time, where Heidegger sets up Being as that for which its own Being is a problem, something encountered in the state of its ‘fallenness’.  By contrast, we can say that ‘thrownness’ is Verfallenheit with a violence; it is ‘fallenness’ complemented by speed.  As such, we are torn up and plunged into Fallout the nuclear fable, amidst echoes of warheads and mushroom clouds on the horizon.

But we may interrogate our expectation that the post-apocalyptic world will be one into which we are thrown.  It is interesting to consider our enduring romantic fascination with nuclear war, with imminent and actual environmental catastrophe overcoming us in the real.  Climate change and looming disaster in the modern geological era of the Anthropocene is, too, bound up with the question of speed, as something irreducible in it.  The essential speed of humanity qua techno-scientific anarcho-market labour-powered wage-slaves is bound to the ecological crisis with chains, each absolutely overcoming the other, the nuclear speed of the techno-human elevated to an ontological principle for the world in which it finds itself fallen.  While speed is an irreducible element of the current crisis of anthropogenic climate change, humanity finds itself so absolutely overcome by it (its ownmost crisis!) that its experience is more of a fallenness than a thrownness.  As a fallenness, it is not typically perceived as a violence, not essentially different from other historical and factical situations of our individual experiences of being that infinitely exceed us.

However, the evidence is overwhelming on this point, that anthropogenic climate change is a violence, that its violence injures poorer nations with unequal and greater severity compared to nations whose contribution to the climate crisis is greater, that it injures future generations of humanity as well as other forms of life on Earth.

Must our recognition of this violence be only as a thrownness?  Or may we make a turn, from fallenness into thrownness, or vice versa, as one who experiences themselves falling forward in a dream, only rapidly to awaken shooting upright from their bed?

In Fallout, the environment is our foremost threat, rather than any faction or any arms of war.  The entire landscape is heavily irradiated.  All that gives sustenance is toxic, a sickness.  We are even asleep (cryogenically frozen) during the initial mass nuclear destruction, only to be thrown out spinning into the new world, with a new purpose, and a new threat that is absolutely overcoming and identifiable as such: the post-nuclear environment.  In the act of waking, the former world is dissolved, as a dream.  We are fallen into the post-apocalyptic world of the nuclear fable by way of thrownness into the Vault.  In this way, we might suggest that Fallout subverts the expectation of the apocalypse as a waking cataclysm into which we are thrown.  We are to recognize that our waking world – a dream world held in a tension over its own dissolution – is only the dream world of a non-apocalyptic present, where speed is reducible to humanity as something that has not overcome it, and where what is really said by our self-assurance of the dream world is only a self-effacing deferral: No Apocalypse, Not Now. 

And so we are thrown, Vaulted, into the world of Fallout, which is just to say a ‘fallenness’.  The dream held in tension is dissolved, and our immediate encounter with violence is carried through to the fallen world, an encounter as something ecological.  Speed has also been subverted here, as if whipped around a massive gravitational center and set upon a new arc; it becomes a velocity, and thereby possesses of it some direction.  And yet the direction shall ever be constant should we continue to see Earth as the bomb, ourselves riding it into the waste and void of annihilation, seeing ourselves set out on a frenzied path upon which speed is our only reckoning.

[1] Derrida, “No Apocalypse, Not Now (full speed ahead, seven missiles, seven missives)” in Diacritics / summer 1984, 23.

[2] Derrida, “No Apocalypse, Not Now,” 20-31.

[3] Ibid., 30.