At some stage I hope to have something to say on the whole issue of technics from the Heidegger-Stiegler-McLuhan-Latour angle but it seems at the moment something quite difficult and therefore to be wholeheartedly avoided in the dark month of December.
As an introductory note I work broadly within the post-Kantian German philosophical tradition on topics like the ancestral, deep time, space/place, objects, technics, and more and more ‘nature’. I exist in the orbit of object oriented ontology but call my own position an unorthodox phenomenological realism which just means I disown the Husserlian move toward transcendental idealism.
Since I don’t have a strong background in theory, sociology, or much else besides philosophy Latour came to me via the Harman route. I suppose one problem with this mediation is that to me Latour was never pre-philosophical. I look through his work with a philosophical lens slightly miffed by all the in-house chatter about the social sciences and hoping to find Latour with his metaphysics on show somewhere, anywhere. So I suppose one theme of my reading will be: is Latour a metaphysician or not? A second concern will be the extent to which Latour fits into the philosophy of technics (in my own tetrad of thinkers of technics outlined above). Finally I’d like to investigate the weird public space that inhabits Latour’s work in all its gory immanence, promised plasma and Catholic grandness. How deep is Latour’s work? That is more or less what I want to find out.
At this stage I have only fully read ‘We Have Never Been Modern’ and it was not what I expected. My reaction was and remains negative. I want to get to the heart of why WHNBM remains to me a badly argued book. I especially want to do this because I’m immensely enjoying ‘Aramis’. WHNBM is a slightly weird book in that it draws on strange implements to illuminate its message and I think this has the effect of frustrating the reader (quite simply what happening and why is he using such weird examples...maybe he has an easier book etc). Cynics will argue that I was horrified by his section on Heidegger but even here it’s just a short polemical blast without much gain. So I’ll have to leave WHNBM outside in the cold like a dog that’s just chewed up the sofa.
What struck me about the reading of Heidegger in WHNBM is how deeply it related to the later Heidegger ignoring more basic affinities such as the material interconnections one finds in ‘Reassembling the Social.’ I suppose for Latour it is always a question of does this thinker obscure rather than brighten up the basic encounter with things? In Heidegger the ontological difference becomes a giant mediating distance between reader and the things rather than, as is often presumed, one enters the referential totality via an identification of the ‘existence’ of the ontological difference. Accepting that Latour is a fast-paced thinker, almost intent on bypassing every formal rule presented to him, Heidegger can only be a barrier and certainly Heidegger rarely teaches by example (the lectern example is used by both Heidegger and in a broader sense Latour in RAS) whereas Latour argues by example(s): this happens, then this happens, and now do you see how the plane of reality functions? No, let’s keep going...ever put on your seatbelt and notice that... etc.
Showing posts with label Rhetoric. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rhetoric. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Some first thoughts
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Anonymous
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Monday, November 30, 2009
Fables
Posted by
Michael
It's interesting that there are so many fables in Latour--especially in Pandora's Hope, though We Have Never Been Modern is indeed one big fable. "Do You Believe in Reality?" sketches out the problem of skepticism over the years along these fabular lines, and "A Politics Freed from Science" sketches out in mythical terms the relation of politics to science and scientists:
By unwinding the adventures of Reason, we can imagine how it was before it turned into an unlivable chimera, a monstrous Big Animal whose unrest horrifies the masters even today. Needless to say, this is an attempt at archaeology-fiction: the invention of a mythical time when political truth-saying would have been fully understood, a world that was later lost through the accumulation of mistakes and degeneration (237).
The essay in other words seeks to see how reason worked in politics (through a reading of the Gorgias) in order to politicize science--since scientists would make politics external to science precisely by claiming reason isn't political. Reason, in other words, is not expert knowledge.
In true Nietzschian fashion (I am tagging this as I go: someday we can return to all these #Nietzsche-s), there's a lot of Socrates-bashing along these lines:
To see a political project through, with the crowd, for the crowd, in spite of the crowd, is so stunningly difficult that Socrates flees from it. But instead of conceding defeat and acknowledging the specificity of politics, he destroys the means of practicing it, in a sort of scorched-earth policy the blackened wreckage of which is still visible today. And the torch that set the public buildings ablaze is said to be that of Reason! (239)
The utterly non-Nietzschian thing here is that this does not describe war, but rather the state of peace and politics (which is why, by the way, Latour refuses to see the science wars as a war, and not as a political crisis for the sciences, which I think is an unbelievably brilliant move, killing off the "two cultures" bullshit--which, remember, is C.P. Snow's depressingly British, moralistic formulation--for good). Nietzsche was, after all, quite apolitical--unless you stretch him or modify him (sorry, Nietzschians).
Regardless, Latour goes on to outline a political reason that "cannot possibly be the object of professional knowledge" (239), and reconstructing the original Body Politic by "simply taking positively the long list of negative remarks of Plato" (237). What's really interesting is that this all involves a reversal of the role of rhetoric (which, however, does not land him in an English department dripping with postmodern extensions of Sapir-Whorf)--something evident of course from Science in Action onward but something we haven't quite really remarked upon yet (except in terms of fiction). Socrates makes politics into rhetoric, and then his whole philosophical effort turns around deciding "what sort of knowledge rhetoric is" (239). Latour turns this around not by celebrating rhetoric and mobilizing it against Socrates' knowledge (a la Derrida in Dissemination--and everywhere else). Rather, he thinks rhetoric is first and foremost political, and therefore its relationship to knowledge (Socrates' focus) has less weight than its ability to shape reality:
The nonprofessional nature of the knowledge of the people by the people turning the whole into an ordered cosmos and not a "disorderly shambles" [Latour quotes Plato] becomes, through a subtle shift, the right of a few rhetoricians to win over real experts if they know nothing (240).
Latour is fine with this, even though that shift is the shift of the Gorgias as a whole, i.e. a shift made by Plato following Socrates, and altering the remarks of Callicles--Latour's hero--and others. He's so fine, he goes on to say the following, in an unbelievably refreshing reconsideration of Sophism, which does not just valorize it (Derrida again), but also makes the Sophist's point differently:
What the Sophists meant was that no expert can win in the public agora because of the specific conditions of felicity that reign there (240).
But then comes Socrates, who changes this around by divorcing rhetoric from the political:
After Socrates' translation, this sensible argument becomes the following absurd one: any expert will be defeated by an ignorant person who knows only rhetoric (240).
You have to read the whole thing to see how great this argument is, but one thing I want to take away from it all is that rhetoric is returned out of language to the sphere of politics. When so much literary theory is based on the linguistic turn itself, this makes possible some notion that language, after all, is not that primary, and that perhaps theory can be something other than the assertion of the primacy of language or language-substitutes (traces)--with the corollary that if language isn't primary all of theory collapses (as some theorists now feel, as they come under attack from Latour-like realists). Nor does this mean that we have to return to some notion of reference, as pro-theory people (who see it developing along a suspiciously straight line) might assume, and which leads me to think that perhaps most theory (this is the entire aim of de Man's work) is not even an effort to deal with the primacy of language so much as the effort to keep the referent suspended (something structuralist poetics did much better than any Foucauldian theory of discourses)… and that maybe a new consideration of the role of language is actually made possible by this Latourian position, beyond postmodernism.
Anyway, rhetoric is returned to politics, and thereby reason is never allowed to become apolitical, in this vast sort of alternate history Latour sketches out by reading the Gorgias against its author and main protagonist. And this fable, this counter-dialectic (in all senses), shows both the real state of politics and the real role of reason, by narrating how a specialized form of it "was kidnapped for a political purpose it could not possibly fulfill," (258), and turned, now, into the banner under which anti-political politics of science can mobilize.
In other words, the fable ends up as policy. But how did this happen? Like in "Do You Believe in Reality?" and We Have Never Been Modern, these fables--which suspiciously look like histories of ideas--are turned into those powers or punctuations (as Law calls them) which need to be undone by ANT. I guess Latour is thinking that as long as he's dealing with powers (with Constitutions), he might as well explicitly mark his own narratives as accounts of powers, not forces--that way they can be analyzed by ANT when the time comes. In other words, these fables (which so often deal with big terms--like realism, materialism, research, science, critique) shouldn't be taken as networks themselves, but power-sketches, organizations of the punctuations--a nice inversion of the task of real rhetoric, which would then be ANT itself, coming along to undo and make specific all of the fabular.
But that's not the whole story. For in the case of something like Aramis, or Pasteur--which, while they are novelized (or at least the story of the first is), are also case studies (and Aramis is indeed a true fiction, as Latour says in his intro)--we have something like these fables not working only in this sort of punctuated sphere. They are, rather, narratives that easily slip into ANT itself. How? Precisely through what you were noting a long time ago, Evan, and I too noticed: allegory--the weird way that pasteurization and now even the Aramis project itself works exactly like a network, before ANT gets to it and messes it up (shows it to be much larger, etc.).
Now, my question here about the fables--which is, in a way, a sort of basic question of how to take these sort of more general essays and works by Latour (like WHNBM itself)--is not just one of trying to figure out what plane Latour is working on, the punctuated plane or the plane of the network itself. I'll leave it to Reassembling the Social to try and work on this more precisely, make it more specific. I'll also be putting up little entries that actually work out this concept of punctuation (or the operative shift from powers to forces and back again, which indeed ANT can account for--I think it is its most interesting concept).
Rather, I'm trying also to weigh what Latour's way of looking at things is concretely giving us in terms of ways into problems via his particular concepts. On this point, I think it is important to pay attention to the phenomenology of reading Latour, as it were--or what I'd prefer to call just the feeling of the concepts at work here. As we move into philosophical characterizations of Latour, through Harman, we are inevitably going to be more focused on the system itself, the coherence of the concepts and their interrelatedness: this (metaphysics) is all right, but its also not where we're at home, as literary critics. Where we're at home is, I think, in this sphere of feeling… feeling the contours as it were, of the notions, testing them out, using them, touching them in a way that philosophy--if you'll pardon my turning a conflict of the faculties into a conflict of the senses--can only try and get at by seeing (or characterizing as "aesthetic"), however much it tries to become pragmatic or turn the philosopher himself into a phronemos. This no doubt gives us a bit of an edge (which a more rhetorically minded philosophy like Harman's is itself somewhat regaining) in seeing these concepts as somewhat useless insofar as they are not also seen to relate to this experience of deploying them somewhat against the grain, or applying them to new cases or areas in which they might not (if you just viewed them in terms of system) really be seen as pertinent (in the semiological/structuralist sense of this word that I love--though pertinence also constitutes scientificity for Greimas and these same semiologists, let's not forget).
In short, this sort of (literary critical--and I stress both of these words as we move into essays on critique, though perhaps we might describe literary criticism more as analysis and reading, and thereby evade much of the anti-critical talk) sense of how concepts work allows us to see how they at times don't work, or work according to tendencies that are somewhat weird. Here--just to bring this all to a conclusion--we get the odd resemblance of these fables to something like a history of ideas… which is something that, if you view it in the terms of the philosophy/theory itself, you won't be able to see--since you'd rather be making sense of this precisely in terms of that system (ANT).
What I'm saying is that there is something in Latour--in this allegory-fable connection--that seems like it's too familiar for a system that claims to do what it is claiming to do. This, I'll say again, is something typical of philosophies of immanence, but doesn't just reduce to something like an incongruity between the "doctrine" and the "performance," which is then quickly made into a (bogus) refutation. It is an aspect of the way that Latour is opening up problems, and I just want to mark it here… as my sort of contribution to an account of how reading Latour feels (phenomenology of reading Latour).
By unwinding the adventures of Reason, we can imagine how it was before it turned into an unlivable chimera, a monstrous Big Animal whose unrest horrifies the masters even today. Needless to say, this is an attempt at archaeology-fiction: the invention of a mythical time when political truth-saying would have been fully understood, a world that was later lost through the accumulation of mistakes and degeneration (237).
The essay in other words seeks to see how reason worked in politics (through a reading of the Gorgias) in order to politicize science--since scientists would make politics external to science precisely by claiming reason isn't political. Reason, in other words, is not expert knowledge.
In true Nietzschian fashion (I am tagging this as I go: someday we can return to all these #Nietzsche-s), there's a lot of Socrates-bashing along these lines:
To see a political project through, with the crowd, for the crowd, in spite of the crowd, is so stunningly difficult that Socrates flees from it. But instead of conceding defeat and acknowledging the specificity of politics, he destroys the means of practicing it, in a sort of scorched-earth policy the blackened wreckage of which is still visible today. And the torch that set the public buildings ablaze is said to be that of Reason! (239)
The utterly non-Nietzschian thing here is that this does not describe war, but rather the state of peace and politics (which is why, by the way, Latour refuses to see the science wars as a war, and not as a political crisis for the sciences, which I think is an unbelievably brilliant move, killing off the "two cultures" bullshit--which, remember, is C.P. Snow's depressingly British, moralistic formulation--for good). Nietzsche was, after all, quite apolitical--unless you stretch him or modify him (sorry, Nietzschians).
Regardless, Latour goes on to outline a political reason that "cannot possibly be the object of professional knowledge" (239), and reconstructing the original Body Politic by "simply taking positively the long list of negative remarks of Plato" (237). What's really interesting is that this all involves a reversal of the role of rhetoric (which, however, does not land him in an English department dripping with postmodern extensions of Sapir-Whorf)--something evident of course from Science in Action onward but something we haven't quite really remarked upon yet (except in terms of fiction). Socrates makes politics into rhetoric, and then his whole philosophical effort turns around deciding "what sort of knowledge rhetoric is" (239). Latour turns this around not by celebrating rhetoric and mobilizing it against Socrates' knowledge (a la Derrida in Dissemination--and everywhere else). Rather, he thinks rhetoric is first and foremost political, and therefore its relationship to knowledge (Socrates' focus) has less weight than its ability to shape reality:
The nonprofessional nature of the knowledge of the people by the people turning the whole into an ordered cosmos and not a "disorderly shambles" [Latour quotes Plato] becomes, through a subtle shift, the right of a few rhetoricians to win over real experts if they know nothing (240).
Latour is fine with this, even though that shift is the shift of the Gorgias as a whole, i.e. a shift made by Plato following Socrates, and altering the remarks of Callicles--Latour's hero--and others. He's so fine, he goes on to say the following, in an unbelievably refreshing reconsideration of Sophism, which does not just valorize it (Derrida again), but also makes the Sophist's point differently:
What the Sophists meant was that no expert can win in the public agora because of the specific conditions of felicity that reign there (240).
But then comes Socrates, who changes this around by divorcing rhetoric from the political:
After Socrates' translation, this sensible argument becomes the following absurd one: any expert will be defeated by an ignorant person who knows only rhetoric (240).
You have to read the whole thing to see how great this argument is, but one thing I want to take away from it all is that rhetoric is returned out of language to the sphere of politics. When so much literary theory is based on the linguistic turn itself, this makes possible some notion that language, after all, is not that primary, and that perhaps theory can be something other than the assertion of the primacy of language or language-substitutes (traces)--with the corollary that if language isn't primary all of theory collapses (as some theorists now feel, as they come under attack from Latour-like realists). Nor does this mean that we have to return to some notion of reference, as pro-theory people (who see it developing along a suspiciously straight line) might assume, and which leads me to think that perhaps most theory (this is the entire aim of de Man's work) is not even an effort to deal with the primacy of language so much as the effort to keep the referent suspended (something structuralist poetics did much better than any Foucauldian theory of discourses)… and that maybe a new consideration of the role of language is actually made possible by this Latourian position, beyond postmodernism.
Anyway, rhetoric is returned to politics, and thereby reason is never allowed to become apolitical, in this vast sort of alternate history Latour sketches out by reading the Gorgias against its author and main protagonist. And this fable, this counter-dialectic (in all senses), shows both the real state of politics and the real role of reason, by narrating how a specialized form of it "was kidnapped for a political purpose it could not possibly fulfill," (258), and turned, now, into the banner under which anti-political politics of science can mobilize.
In other words, the fable ends up as policy. But how did this happen? Like in "Do You Believe in Reality?" and We Have Never Been Modern, these fables--which suspiciously look like histories of ideas--are turned into those powers or punctuations (as Law calls them) which need to be undone by ANT. I guess Latour is thinking that as long as he's dealing with powers (with Constitutions), he might as well explicitly mark his own narratives as accounts of powers, not forces--that way they can be analyzed by ANT when the time comes. In other words, these fables (which so often deal with big terms--like realism, materialism, research, science, critique) shouldn't be taken as networks themselves, but power-sketches, organizations of the punctuations--a nice inversion of the task of real rhetoric, which would then be ANT itself, coming along to undo and make specific all of the fabular.
But that's not the whole story. For in the case of something like Aramis, or Pasteur--which, while they are novelized (or at least the story of the first is), are also case studies (and Aramis is indeed a true fiction, as Latour says in his intro)--we have something like these fables not working only in this sort of punctuated sphere. They are, rather, narratives that easily slip into ANT itself. How? Precisely through what you were noting a long time ago, Evan, and I too noticed: allegory--the weird way that pasteurization and now even the Aramis project itself works exactly like a network, before ANT gets to it and messes it up (shows it to be much larger, etc.).
Now, my question here about the fables--which is, in a way, a sort of basic question of how to take these sort of more general essays and works by Latour (like WHNBM itself)--is not just one of trying to figure out what plane Latour is working on, the punctuated plane or the plane of the network itself. I'll leave it to Reassembling the Social to try and work on this more precisely, make it more specific. I'll also be putting up little entries that actually work out this concept of punctuation (or the operative shift from powers to forces and back again, which indeed ANT can account for--I think it is its most interesting concept).
Rather, I'm trying also to weigh what Latour's way of looking at things is concretely giving us in terms of ways into problems via his particular concepts. On this point, I think it is important to pay attention to the phenomenology of reading Latour, as it were--or what I'd prefer to call just the feeling of the concepts at work here. As we move into philosophical characterizations of Latour, through Harman, we are inevitably going to be more focused on the system itself, the coherence of the concepts and their interrelatedness: this (metaphysics) is all right, but its also not where we're at home, as literary critics. Where we're at home is, I think, in this sphere of feeling… feeling the contours as it were, of the notions, testing them out, using them, touching them in a way that philosophy--if you'll pardon my turning a conflict of the faculties into a conflict of the senses--can only try and get at by seeing (or characterizing as "aesthetic"), however much it tries to become pragmatic or turn the philosopher himself into a phronemos. This no doubt gives us a bit of an edge (which a more rhetorically minded philosophy like Harman's is itself somewhat regaining) in seeing these concepts as somewhat useless insofar as they are not also seen to relate to this experience of deploying them somewhat against the grain, or applying them to new cases or areas in which they might not (if you just viewed them in terms of system) really be seen as pertinent (in the semiological/structuralist sense of this word that I love--though pertinence also constitutes scientificity for Greimas and these same semiologists, let's not forget).
In short, this sort of (literary critical--and I stress both of these words as we move into essays on critique, though perhaps we might describe literary criticism more as analysis and reading, and thereby evade much of the anti-critical talk) sense of how concepts work allows us to see how they at times don't work, or work according to tendencies that are somewhat weird. Here--just to bring this all to a conclusion--we get the odd resemblance of these fables to something like a history of ideas… which is something that, if you view it in the terms of the philosophy/theory itself, you won't be able to see--since you'd rather be making sense of this precisely in terms of that system (ANT).
What I'm saying is that there is something in Latour--in this allegory-fable connection--that seems like it's too familiar for a system that claims to do what it is claiming to do. This, I'll say again, is something typical of philosophies of immanence, but doesn't just reduce to something like an incongruity between the "doctrine" and the "performance," which is then quickly made into a (bogus) refutation. It is an aspect of the way that Latour is opening up problems, and I just want to mark it here… as my sort of contribution to an account of how reading Latour feels (phenomenology of reading Latour).
Friday, November 6, 2009
I said something about Heidegger...
Posted by
Michael
...in the last post: namely that, if we take Latour's statement in We Have Never Been Modern about how "it is the sorting that makes the times, not the times that make the sorting" (WHNBM 76; Latour's emphasis), we might think time gets spatialized, and this would mean some of the most significant commonalities between Heidegger and Latour would be overlooked. Now, these commonalities weren't necessarily in terms of an interpretation of time as nonspatialized, either. It is clear that while Heidegger holds something like this (crudely put, spatiality has its "end" in time--though we should also point out that time ultimately has its "end" in the destining of being, though Heidegger, rightly, would not see in this history any return to spacing... enter Derrida) because Latour holds that time and space are mere "frameworks" we use to describe the relations of force between actants (as I made clear last time, but here's just another quote to remind you: "If time depends on associations, associations don't depend on time," 141), it can't be on the issue of any "interpretation of time" that they might agree.
So what's the commonality? A commitment to subordinating time ultimately to something like practice--seeing time generated practically or through the practical. Now, I don't mean to say something stupid like, for Heidegger, time is a result of Dasein's projections, etc. This should be clear from my parenthesis above (time is historical). By "practical," I mean something different--namely that the emphasis falls on how it is always more like a framework than a form. So while the two systems are distinguished clearly--roughly we can say something like Heidegger takes time to be real and Latour doesn't (he takes trials of strength as real)--nevertheless both want to undo time as representable and make it into something like the contours of any and all action. (John Protevi in his Political Physics has a compelling chapter on this--"Philosophy and Leisure"--ultimately dealing with how philosophy has to be a difficult activity for Heidegger... and of course not just for Heidegger).
In other words, the similarity is in the sort of meta-level (that is, on the edge of the concepts and the systems, which are indeed formally incompatible on the issue of time) "critique of representation" (as Jameson aptly calls it--and we'll get more on this as he is supposedly writing a book on Heidegger) that I mentioned in the last post:
Another (less temporal) way of putting this is seeing only one form of representation taking place, as we hinted above. There are no representations "inside" the objects that we are looking at. When it comes to art, this gets complicated: there is no inside to the work. We can therefore do history of the book right alongside character analysis, just in the same way that we look at the scientific "facts" as scaling practices that occur in/through the lab. And it is really this that is the main thesis of We Have Never Been Modern: any reconsideration of time and history will involve conceiving of the "sorting" which produces time differently, and in such a way that there is only one sort of representation (the relations of forces).
I'm now just trying to say how this is indeed "less temporal"--in terms of time as representable unrepresentable, or form (Kant, of course)--but also "more temporal" than we might think--in that we find the position of Latour being similar to the position of Heidegger when it comes to de-representing time, among other things... that is, by bringing a practical emphasis--only most visible in Heidegger's privileging of phronesis over sophia--to bear on their conceptions.
I'll be clearer. I'm saying that on the issue of time, we can see a meta-level tendency to claim the following in both Latour and Heidegger:
There are not two problems of representation, just one (WHNBM, 143).
And this is because representation is dependent (if I can put it way too simply) on what reality does, rather than what it is--such that what it does is what it is. This might sound odd if one has a superficial understanding of Heidegger as "the thinker of being," but really it is only through the emphasis on doing that Heidegger recovers that question of is-ing (and this is what makes what he does something other than ontology as it has always been done). Now, if reality is, on the other hand, simply what it is, it becomes able to be represented (grasped) in two ways, not one: first, reality is delegated (the discussion of the figural and non-figural in "Where are the Missing Masses," is a great concrete discussion of this, anticipating for us various concerns of Aramis, though I'm obviously saying it underlies everything that Latour is getting at--and we've already talked about it at length in discussions of "translation"), and then reality is doubled over (as it were), folded to produce something other than delegation--something that indeed defines itself as non-delegation, an image or a non-reality (representation in another sense). This is why we can look inside the book (for characters) and outside it (at its "material conditions of production"--history of the book stuff): though Latour in his own readings (of the excellent Rick Powers) will emphasize the first, he is able to go "outside" the text with ease and in such a way that we could imagine him also looking at the production of the book "object" in the same way.
However, we might also look to WHNBM's concern with a "Constitution" as the main site of such a "critique of representation," for Latour uses the term precisely to stress the "delegating" aspect of representation. Latour is saying that a Constitution's purpose is to guarantee representation ("a constitution is judged by the guarantees it offers," 139) or allow delegation. But the Modern Constitution precisely sought to represent in such a way that it produced representation in another sense than delegation, so as to draw a line between what could be represented and what could not. He says the aim of the book is to allow amend this Constitution to allow the representation of things. But this undoes the second sense of representation, because no longer do questions of representation--qua what can be represented and what cannot, or representation in explicit opposition to representation qua delegation--have to come up: everything is delegated. Reality is a series of tubes--I mean, networks. No doubling over, no folding, no surfaces:
Technological networks, as the name indicates, are nets thrown over spaces, and they retain only a few scattered elements of those spaces. They are connected lines, not surfaces. They are by no means comprehensive, global or systematic, even though they embrace surfaces without covering them, and extend a very long way. The work of relative universalization remains an easy-to-grasp category that relationism can follow in a thoroughgoing way. Every branching, every alignment, every connection can be documented, since it generates tracers, and every one of them has a cost. It can be extended almost everywhere; it can be spread out in time as well as in space, yet without filling time and space (118, my emphasis).
There is no filling because we only have one problem of representation, not two. This is why delegation is really only transcendence that lacks a contrary: "I call this transcendence that lacks a contrary 'delegation'" (129).
I hope I've outlined the connection between Heidegger and Latour, then. For me, the sort of Heideggerian commonality is most apparent in thinking of science in action, which is of course all over Latour. I just wanted to bring this out in what appears to be the most abstract part of the work--time--though it's present right there in the title (we have never been). The sort of closing off of old theories, which I talked about in the last post, lends to scientific knowledge a way of developing that is practical, that turns it into an activity--and of course opposes any sort of Popperian logic.
I'm also connecting things to my earlier posts that resisted taking Latour as a sociologist. For while sociology has a lot to do with this sort of "praxis, not theory" emphasis, if we see Latour's "Heideggerian" preference for the practical producing his critique of representation, then one way of putting my objections or qualifications to the post of yours on "Translation--or How Everybody Wins" was that perhaps Latour is a crappy sociologist. In other words, I'm just trying to defend sociology here. To that end, it was absolutely correct to see in Pasteurization the most sustained engagement with human actors in Latour's career, perhaps, and therefore the most strictly sociological part of his work. But still, while he's got an analysis of "how everybody wins," aren't there better, more sophisticated sociological accounts of that same phenomenon precisely because there we have, indeed, some knowledge of what is going on? That is, less of a stress on practice (isn't the "sense that everybody wins" less practical than Latour's sense of it)? In other words, might we not have a better understanding of such group dynamics in sociology because Latour is more interested in making that "everybody" include all the practical actors (microbes too!), more than in actually outlining the dynamics of this particular phenomenon--where everyone can get what they want, even if they misunderstand each other? In other words, it's your genius to see how this strictly sociological notion was at work in Latour. But I'm saying that precisely means there has got to be a more accurate account within sociology--one that wouldn't be so focused on objects, yes, but would be able to analyze more various human groups (consider this the elaboration of my point about "small groups" in Latour). Latour would see in this precisely a purification--it is his insight to see that this "variability" I'm attributing to the sociological analysis is actually only hardening the divisions that really need to be dissolved (between humans and things).
Which means, fundamentally, I'm skeptical about Latour's claim that we can just extract certain things from the modern Constitution, and get rid of the rest with little loss (Latour, rightly, would never say that this would happen completely without loss). Latour, I think, is absolutely right to want to cut across so many existing boundaries, and his ability to do so really makes his remarks persuasive. But doesn't there have to be a point at which we sacrifice accurate analysis brought about by specialization for something less accurate but more relevant? Latour would undoubtedly say yes--and then bolster this claim by saying basically we try to be relevant all the time without being accurate at all. Science is really and truly experimental before it is accurate--thus, why not experiment some more? This will make Alan Turing his hero in the "Critique" essay, and I like that. But I wonder whether, ultimately, we can't do things differently. Indeed, can't we envision a form of accurate analysis, brought about even by specialization, that is indeed moving in a better direction? If this sounds too Popperian, I apologize. But doesn't Latour's claim cash in on 1) an antimodern or postmodern critique of specialization (though Latour is perhaps the only person--besides Bourdieu--to enjoin us to really follow bureaucratic compartmentalization rather than dismiss it) and 2) a sense that scientific practice is no different than practical activity--as I explained above. No doubt, Latour would claim that this would be true, if the world itself wasn't one in which a person in a lab could actually alter something way across the globe (by curing a disease, say), in which micro-actors knock down or infinitely empower macro-actors. But... what if the world really wasn't that way?
I'm not saying that so much out of belief that the world isn't precisely that one which Latour sees in his newspaper at the beginning of the book. I'm just forced into this sort of position--which renders things pretty moot--because of the immensity of the structure of Latour's argument. I would say that this is, for me, the only real massive argument against him in this book, and is what makes his other works much more suggestive and much more helpful for me: here, either you get on the same page with him, or you act in your own way, which he claims is also amenable to his project. This certainly marks the triumph of a way of arguing that only seeks to add reality (which is good!), but it most definitely means the death of any sense that there may be more and less viable methods and procedures, or differing ways of getting at something (which may be bad).
Maybe I can put this differently by saying that Latour isn't satisfied if he just convinces us that he has a better description of the way things work. For we might actually be willing to grant, even from within sociology, say, that his analysis is better or more full than the sociological one if it described things more accurately. That is, we might willingly dissolve even our knowledge if we were convinced that he had a better grasp on things--that is, in such a situation where there has to be some sacrifice of "accuracy" for "relevance:" if relevance is in the end more accurate than accuracy, doesn't it make sense to switch sides? But I'm not sure Latour wants that. He wants to transform what knowledge we have into something different, which presupposes not even the relevancy of his case but something else--a notion that being modern has always been being nonmodern. It is in this deep sense--that we have to not only see things in the right way but do them in the right way, that I've been trying to align with Heidegger: it is this that makes the Heideggerian approach (and the Derridian deconstruction) so impoverished when it comes to issues of method, since the issue is always, above seeing things the right way (phenomenology itself) doing them. And it is this that is really involved in the critique of representation, and constitutes that sort of immanence that Jameson critiques in postmodern thinkers, and that Latour tries to combat head on, as it were--by making delegation precisely transcendence, and insisting that we follow them, step by step, "locally" despite their local-global character--but (in my view) can't quite overcome. I might say, anticipating Latour's remarks on critique to which we will soon turn ("Why Has Critique Run Out of Steam?"), that perhaps this is what happens when arguments (see the whole beginning of Science in Action on rhetoric) are seen first as acts, as pure persuasion (no representation qua depiction, figuration, fiction), and ultimately as things that stage a Heideggerian Auseinandersetzung or polemic (in the sense of polemos--the stress on war as you first brought up in the "Translation" post), and then turned around and said to be absolutely non-polemical, anti-polemical, weaknesses. But that's another issue (though it bears on there being no real represented "inside" to something like Galatea 2.2 or The Echo Maker--though that is, of course, an issue these novels themselves interrogate [especially the first], which is why Latour likes them so much).
I'll conclude, though, by saying that perhaps this does lean too hard on the notion that at some point, in amending our Constitution, we have to sacrifice accuracy. This comes too close, of course, to saying that Latour is anti-science, when his position gains its strength from precisely it's pro-scientific-(but anti-science? how to describe that)-realism. I'd say that it is in this sense that we can say the network notion of reality is better than the notion of Heidegger--though not because Heidegger isn't a realist (it will be Harman's contention that he is precisely this), and not because (despite popular opinion) Heidegger is flat out anti-science (it's more complicated than this). There's another post waiting here, going back to the (to me, compelling) advantages of the technological network enumerated in the Latour quote above, but I need to gather my thoughts in order to articulate it.
So what's the commonality? A commitment to subordinating time ultimately to something like practice--seeing time generated practically or through the practical. Now, I don't mean to say something stupid like, for Heidegger, time is a result of Dasein's projections, etc. This should be clear from my parenthesis above (time is historical). By "practical," I mean something different--namely that the emphasis falls on how it is always more like a framework than a form. So while the two systems are distinguished clearly--roughly we can say something like Heidegger takes time to be real and Latour doesn't (he takes trials of strength as real)--nevertheless both want to undo time as representable and make it into something like the contours of any and all action. (John Protevi in his Political Physics has a compelling chapter on this--"Philosophy and Leisure"--ultimately dealing with how philosophy has to be a difficult activity for Heidegger... and of course not just for Heidegger).
In other words, the similarity is in the sort of meta-level (that is, on the edge of the concepts and the systems, which are indeed formally incompatible on the issue of time) "critique of representation" (as Jameson aptly calls it--and we'll get more on this as he is supposedly writing a book on Heidegger) that I mentioned in the last post:
Another (less temporal) way of putting this is seeing only one form of representation taking place, as we hinted above. There are no representations "inside" the objects that we are looking at. When it comes to art, this gets complicated: there is no inside to the work. We can therefore do history of the book right alongside character analysis, just in the same way that we look at the scientific "facts" as scaling practices that occur in/through the lab. And it is really this that is the main thesis of We Have Never Been Modern: any reconsideration of time and history will involve conceiving of the "sorting" which produces time differently, and in such a way that there is only one sort of representation (the relations of forces).
I'm now just trying to say how this is indeed "less temporal"--in terms of time as representable unrepresentable, or form (Kant, of course)--but also "more temporal" than we might think--in that we find the position of Latour being similar to the position of Heidegger when it comes to de-representing time, among other things... that is, by bringing a practical emphasis--only most visible in Heidegger's privileging of phronesis over sophia--to bear on their conceptions.
I'll be clearer. I'm saying that on the issue of time, we can see a meta-level tendency to claim the following in both Latour and Heidegger:
There are not two problems of representation, just one (WHNBM, 143).
And this is because representation is dependent (if I can put it way too simply) on what reality does, rather than what it is--such that what it does is what it is. This might sound odd if one has a superficial understanding of Heidegger as "the thinker of being," but really it is only through the emphasis on doing that Heidegger recovers that question of is-ing (and this is what makes what he does something other than ontology as it has always been done). Now, if reality is, on the other hand, simply what it is, it becomes able to be represented (grasped) in two ways, not one: first, reality is delegated (the discussion of the figural and non-figural in "Where are the Missing Masses," is a great concrete discussion of this, anticipating for us various concerns of Aramis, though I'm obviously saying it underlies everything that Latour is getting at--and we've already talked about it at length in discussions of "translation"), and then reality is doubled over (as it were), folded to produce something other than delegation--something that indeed defines itself as non-delegation, an image or a non-reality (representation in another sense). This is why we can look inside the book (for characters) and outside it (at its "material conditions of production"--history of the book stuff): though Latour in his own readings (of the excellent Rick Powers) will emphasize the first, he is able to go "outside" the text with ease and in such a way that we could imagine him also looking at the production of the book "object" in the same way.
However, we might also look to WHNBM's concern with a "Constitution" as the main site of such a "critique of representation," for Latour uses the term precisely to stress the "delegating" aspect of representation. Latour is saying that a Constitution's purpose is to guarantee representation ("a constitution is judged by the guarantees it offers," 139) or allow delegation. But the Modern Constitution precisely sought to represent in such a way that it produced representation in another sense than delegation, so as to draw a line between what could be represented and what could not. He says the aim of the book is to allow amend this Constitution to allow the representation of things. But this undoes the second sense of representation, because no longer do questions of representation--qua what can be represented and what cannot, or representation in explicit opposition to representation qua delegation--have to come up: everything is delegated. Reality is a series of tubes--I mean, networks. No doubling over, no folding, no surfaces:
Technological networks, as the name indicates, are nets thrown over spaces, and they retain only a few scattered elements of those spaces. They are connected lines, not surfaces. They are by no means comprehensive, global or systematic, even though they embrace surfaces without covering them, and extend a very long way. The work of relative universalization remains an easy-to-grasp category that relationism can follow in a thoroughgoing way. Every branching, every alignment, every connection can be documented, since it generates tracers, and every one of them has a cost. It can be extended almost everywhere; it can be spread out in time as well as in space, yet without filling time and space (118, my emphasis).
There is no filling because we only have one problem of representation, not two. This is why delegation is really only transcendence that lacks a contrary: "I call this transcendence that lacks a contrary 'delegation'" (129).
I hope I've outlined the connection between Heidegger and Latour, then. For me, the sort of Heideggerian commonality is most apparent in thinking of science in action, which is of course all over Latour. I just wanted to bring this out in what appears to be the most abstract part of the work--time--though it's present right there in the title (we have never been). The sort of closing off of old theories, which I talked about in the last post, lends to scientific knowledge a way of developing that is practical, that turns it into an activity--and of course opposes any sort of Popperian logic.
I'm also connecting things to my earlier posts that resisted taking Latour as a sociologist. For while sociology has a lot to do with this sort of "praxis, not theory" emphasis, if we see Latour's "Heideggerian" preference for the practical producing his critique of representation, then one way of putting my objections or qualifications to the post of yours on "Translation--or How Everybody Wins" was that perhaps Latour is a crappy sociologist. In other words, I'm just trying to defend sociology here. To that end, it was absolutely correct to see in Pasteurization the most sustained engagement with human actors in Latour's career, perhaps, and therefore the most strictly sociological part of his work. But still, while he's got an analysis of "how everybody wins," aren't there better, more sophisticated sociological accounts of that same phenomenon precisely because there we have, indeed, some knowledge of what is going on? That is, less of a stress on practice (isn't the "sense that everybody wins" less practical than Latour's sense of it)? In other words, might we not have a better understanding of such group dynamics in sociology because Latour is more interested in making that "everybody" include all the practical actors (microbes too!), more than in actually outlining the dynamics of this particular phenomenon--where everyone can get what they want, even if they misunderstand each other? In other words, it's your genius to see how this strictly sociological notion was at work in Latour. But I'm saying that precisely means there has got to be a more accurate account within sociology--one that wouldn't be so focused on objects, yes, but would be able to analyze more various human groups (consider this the elaboration of my point about "small groups" in Latour). Latour would see in this precisely a purification--it is his insight to see that this "variability" I'm attributing to the sociological analysis is actually only hardening the divisions that really need to be dissolved (between humans and things).
Which means, fundamentally, I'm skeptical about Latour's claim that we can just extract certain things from the modern Constitution, and get rid of the rest with little loss (Latour, rightly, would never say that this would happen completely without loss). Latour, I think, is absolutely right to want to cut across so many existing boundaries, and his ability to do so really makes his remarks persuasive. But doesn't there have to be a point at which we sacrifice accurate analysis brought about by specialization for something less accurate but more relevant? Latour would undoubtedly say yes--and then bolster this claim by saying basically we try to be relevant all the time without being accurate at all. Science is really and truly experimental before it is accurate--thus, why not experiment some more? This will make Alan Turing his hero in the "Critique" essay, and I like that. But I wonder whether, ultimately, we can't do things differently. Indeed, can't we envision a form of accurate analysis, brought about even by specialization, that is indeed moving in a better direction? If this sounds too Popperian, I apologize. But doesn't Latour's claim cash in on 1) an antimodern or postmodern critique of specialization (though Latour is perhaps the only person--besides Bourdieu--to enjoin us to really follow bureaucratic compartmentalization rather than dismiss it) and 2) a sense that scientific practice is no different than practical activity--as I explained above. No doubt, Latour would claim that this would be true, if the world itself wasn't one in which a person in a lab could actually alter something way across the globe (by curing a disease, say), in which micro-actors knock down or infinitely empower macro-actors. But... what if the world really wasn't that way?
I'm not saying that so much out of belief that the world isn't precisely that one which Latour sees in his newspaper at the beginning of the book. I'm just forced into this sort of position--which renders things pretty moot--because of the immensity of the structure of Latour's argument. I would say that this is, for me, the only real massive argument against him in this book, and is what makes his other works much more suggestive and much more helpful for me: here, either you get on the same page with him, or you act in your own way, which he claims is also amenable to his project. This certainly marks the triumph of a way of arguing that only seeks to add reality (which is good!), but it most definitely means the death of any sense that there may be more and less viable methods and procedures, or differing ways of getting at something (which may be bad).
Maybe I can put this differently by saying that Latour isn't satisfied if he just convinces us that he has a better description of the way things work. For we might actually be willing to grant, even from within sociology, say, that his analysis is better or more full than the sociological one if it described things more accurately. That is, we might willingly dissolve even our knowledge if we were convinced that he had a better grasp on things--that is, in such a situation where there has to be some sacrifice of "accuracy" for "relevance:" if relevance is in the end more accurate than accuracy, doesn't it make sense to switch sides? But I'm not sure Latour wants that. He wants to transform what knowledge we have into something different, which presupposes not even the relevancy of his case but something else--a notion that being modern has always been being nonmodern. It is in this deep sense--that we have to not only see things in the right way but do them in the right way, that I've been trying to align with Heidegger: it is this that makes the Heideggerian approach (and the Derridian deconstruction) so impoverished when it comes to issues of method, since the issue is always, above seeing things the right way (phenomenology itself) doing them. And it is this that is really involved in the critique of representation, and constitutes that sort of immanence that Jameson critiques in postmodern thinkers, and that Latour tries to combat head on, as it were--by making delegation precisely transcendence, and insisting that we follow them, step by step, "locally" despite their local-global character--but (in my view) can't quite overcome. I might say, anticipating Latour's remarks on critique to which we will soon turn ("Why Has Critique Run Out of Steam?"), that perhaps this is what happens when arguments (see the whole beginning of Science in Action on rhetoric) are seen first as acts, as pure persuasion (no representation qua depiction, figuration, fiction), and ultimately as things that stage a Heideggerian Auseinandersetzung or polemic (in the sense of polemos--the stress on war as you first brought up in the "Translation" post), and then turned around and said to be absolutely non-polemical, anti-polemical, weaknesses. But that's another issue (though it bears on there being no real represented "inside" to something like Galatea 2.2 or The Echo Maker--though that is, of course, an issue these novels themselves interrogate [especially the first], which is why Latour likes them so much).
I'll conclude, though, by saying that perhaps this does lean too hard on the notion that at some point, in amending our Constitution, we have to sacrifice accuracy. This comes too close, of course, to saying that Latour is anti-science, when his position gains its strength from precisely it's pro-scientific-(but anti-science? how to describe that)-realism. I'd say that it is in this sense that we can say the network notion of reality is better than the notion of Heidegger--though not because Heidegger isn't a realist (it will be Harman's contention that he is precisely this), and not because (despite popular opinion) Heidegger is flat out anti-science (it's more complicated than this). There's another post waiting here, going back to the (to me, compelling) advantages of the technological network enumerated in the Latour quote above, but I need to gather my thoughts in order to articulate it.
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