culture of repudiation
Friday, September 30, 2005
In our post 9-11 ethics class we read the book THE WEST AND THE REST by Roger Sruton. I had a difficult time agreeing with most of the book, but some of what he had to say did make me think about some stuff, or rethink some stuff. He says that postmodern philosophy has resulted in a "culture of repudiation" in America and the west, that in turn leads to a loss of individual identity and purpose. He surmises that a return to a borderline fascistic nationalism could restore that identity and meaning, but here, that is sort of a side note. What I want to talk about, and get all your input on, is the goods and bads of postmodern philosophy, especially deconstructive thought.
I believe that the postmodern condition has resulted in a culture that is more inclusive to critical thought, nearly undiluted critical thought, to the point, that some individuals do perhaps lose a sense of direction and identity. I feel that way sometimes in my own life. However, I think that this is not a necessary reaction. Postmodernism does not demand the abolition of identity, culture, meaning, law, and all the other things that a stable society depends on. However, at least on the personal level, it can.
On the good side, Postmodernism has lead to a more globally aware culture in America, as people are more interested in other perspectives, born from different ethnicities. This is such a positive thing, that it makes Scruton's call to abandon postmodern inquiry seem absurd and badly mistaken.
My opinion: We all need to use postmodern philosophy to deconstruct everything, but we also need to reinforce a culture of law while continually questioning the law, and changing it when good arguments convince us to do so. I think this is a common ideal anyways, but it does not hurt to reinforce it more. Ok, so what do you all think about the changes postmodern thinking has dealt to our American culture? Good, Bad?
I believe that the postmodern condition has resulted in a culture that is more inclusive to critical thought, nearly undiluted critical thought, to the point, that some individuals do perhaps lose a sense of direction and identity. I feel that way sometimes in my own life. However, I think that this is not a necessary reaction. Postmodernism does not demand the abolition of identity, culture, meaning, law, and all the other things that a stable society depends on. However, at least on the personal level, it can.
On the good side, Postmodernism has lead to a more globally aware culture in America, as people are more interested in other perspectives, born from different ethnicities. This is such a positive thing, that it makes Scruton's call to abandon postmodern inquiry seem absurd and badly mistaken.
My opinion: We all need to use postmodern philosophy to deconstruct everything, but we also need to reinforce a culture of law while continually questioning the law, and changing it when good arguments convince us to do so. I think this is a common ideal anyways, but it does not hurt to reinforce it more. Ok, so what do you all think about the changes postmodern thinking has dealt to our American culture? Good, Bad?
posted by Anonymous at
10:40 PM
My experience with postmodernism is somewhat limited to studies in postmodern literature. Based on that exposure I am inclined to say that there is perhaps not a direct relationship between postmodern philosophy (as a discourse) and a loss of collective identity. There is simply not enough of an influence, except for the more dilluted influence of the artistic expressions of that philosophy or experience.
But the postmodern condition, or the collective experiences that we are only now developing a language and discourse to discuss, is responsible for both an individual loss of identity, and a collective loss of identity.
The postmodern condition is what I would call "experiencing deconstruction". In this sense, and according to a Lyotardian construction of postmodern philosophy, every aspect of our individual or collective experience is merely a narrative construction, and subject to questions, which are subject to questions, and so the spiral continues.
Such inexhaustable criticism (deconstruction without any attempt at epistemological reconstruction) can only lead to a culture of repudiation aimed at all forms of identity, both individual and collective.
This is dangerous if universally adopted. I'm not sure what it would lead to, but I'm pretty sure it would not be good.
To make myself clearer, and now second guessing myself, I think western culture is experiencing a loss of individual and collective identity, born from the postmodern condition, which is now beginning to be discussed through the discourses of postmodern philosophy and literature. I am not sure how to remedy the situation (reconstructing identity), but I think it does need to be done.
Dr. Goshert of the English Department once told me that it is impossible to fully fathom Lyotard's essay after only one time through. And even among the experts in the field there are different interpretations and applications to the text. Mine is only one (not credited by any title or former work) and should be considered for discussion, but by no means can I claim to be an accurate voice for Lyotard.
Pretty good disclaimer, huh?
So, I did a presentation of this Lyotard's idea last semester in one of Potter's classes. It is a quick easy read, and I would be happy to email it to you.
I think the essay will present the idea clearer than I can do tonight, with a hangover headache...
When discussing the "not really there" or "constantly mobile and changing" ideas of postmodernism, I to feel as if I am lost inside the numerous "isms", or the abstract metaphorical, pseudointellectual, any thing to sound intelligent and original bullshit, but, then again, I love it. It is such a challenge to see if anything is really there.
The postmodern era, if you will, began when the bomb dropped, but many literary authors and philosophers were flirting with ideas related to a crises of meaning, or the failings of the nation state, and the decentering of subjects long before this happened.
The earliest Im familiar with is Diderot, the novelist and French Philosopher. (18th century)
Well, heres the essay on Lyotard, maybe you guys can pull something coherent out of it. If you don't read it, I won't be offended. Thanks for your great discussion on this post.
Preston Radford
PHIL 101H
Dr. Potter
Good Buy Blue Skies
As I prepared for this presentation I began wondering what does and does not belong in an entry level philosophy course, or more precisely—what belongs in this introduction to philosophy class. I soon realized that in a very positive way the class has been quite liberal in its acceptance of divergent thought. Some ways of thinking prevail; some have seemingly been discarded; but all have been given a corner in our ring of argumentation.
My best course of action—it seems—would be to clearly state—if indeed that is possible—the position I am arguing for, and afterwards, to present the arguments for that position. The trouble is that postmodernism does not necessarily allow for a solid and static position. To achieve that clarity however, I will generalize and hypothesize—just a little bit.
Though he never explicitly states it in his essay The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, Jean-François Lyotard is a skeptic. In other words, he believes it is irrational for human beings to make claims of real knowledge. It is important to note however, that Lyotard’s skepticism is constructed and argued for in different ways than Hume’s skepticism—which we covered in this class. This said, I will repeat that the position I am arguing for in this presentation is epistemological skepticism; the argument is Jean-François Lyotard’s.
I feel that possibly the best explanation for postmodernism is found in abstract metaphorical references, though many experts might disagree. I have a series of questions which can hopefully give you some idea. Have you ever walked up and down the same set of stairs while not changing your direction of movement? Are there novels written to not be understood? Can we create art that will never be seen? Is perception necessarily related to a point of reference? Are these concepts purely linguistic constructs, or might they contain here or in some alternate existence? Postmodernism—I think—is an intellectual journey that doesn’t necessarily lead somewhere, although it might.
I will often refer to language throughout this reading, and so I wish to clarify how I am using the term. In common usage the term language refers to the machinery of communication. A language, for example English, is a machine we use in order to transfer thought from one being to another. The Japanese language can be thought of as an alternative machine from English—used to transfer thought—just as a car transports people or cargo. Do you understand my meaning? The term “language�—as used commonly—is not how I wish to employ it throughout this reading. Instead, I wish to refer to language as what is being communicated—that is, the idea, concept, or meaning—rather than how it is communicated. Language—defined this way—is nearly synonymous with culture, ideology, or perspective, but not quite. It often helps me to think of language as culture, ideology, or perspective—though this is not entirely correct. I invite you to do so as I continue.
I will also use the term “narrative�, that in common usage means, story, novel, book, etc.. However, Lyotard—and for that matter myself—use the term “narrative� or “narration� with a broader interpretation. For the purposes of this reading you should think of “narratives� or “narration� as simply the stories we tell ourselves—in what ever form. Under this loose definition the terms “narrative� or “narration� encapsulate literature, aesthetics, even culture, religion, tradition, economic theory, and a host of other story telling devices.
For Lyotard, language precedes everything. Indeed, it can surely be said of Lyotard that he positions himself on the side of anti-realism—preferring to believe that we do not and cannot discover the true external reality; instead, language constructs perceptions of reality, and that is what we experience—one perception of reality from an infinitude of possible perceptions. Lyotard is also concerned with the construction of language, how and where it comes from—which I will address shortly—but first, let me document what I think is Lyotard’s implicit argument for substantiating his claim that language does not explain reality.
• If language adequately explains a singular external reality there would be one universal language.
• There is more than one language among humans to explain this singular external reality.
� Because there is no universal language, language does not adequately explain reality
Note that I am not making the argument that language constructs perceptions of reality. That inference—I think—could only be strengthened through the types of anecdotal evidence Lyotard presents in his essay. In support of the claim that language constructs perceptions of reality, I offer empirical data from the observations of your lives. In America, a Marxist thinks that he/she lives in a different reality than say, a capitalist. The Marxist experiences the American way of life as a system of subjugation and oppression, while the capitalist views opportunity, productive winners, and lazy losers. It is logically inconsistent for America to be—in actuality—both a prison and a paradise. Why then would the experience of the Marxist and the capitalist be so drastically different? Lyotard, and myself for that matter, would say that their very different languages materialize into very different perceptions of the world.
These two arguments (language does not explain reality/language constructs perceptions of reality) are premises in Lyotard’s argument for skepticism. I am sure some of you will be able to criticize them specifically, and I invite such criticism to be presented after the reading.
Despite your possible rejections, for the sake of mapping out Lyotard‘s definition of knowledge and ultimately his argument for skepticism, let us assume these first two premises (language does not explain reality/language constructs perceptions of reality). The obvious question now, is how perceptions of reality constructed by language are linked to a definition of knowledge, and an argument for skepticism.
Always keep in mind that Lyotard is a skeptic, so when Lyotard presents what appears to be a definition of knowledge he is simply illustrating the processes most human beings employ to establish what they think is knowledge. By revealing the processes by which knowledge is established we are placed in a position to be critical of them, and through that criticism we can tear them apart. So, to restate that in a clearer way: in his essay The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge Lyotard explains the processes human beings generally follow to acquire knowledge, and by showing their shortcomings and imperfections, he is able to show that the processes are flawed and that the supposed knowledge they produce is also flawed. The two dominant processes—without yet getting into postmodern searches for knowledge—are narration and science.
A specific example can help to illustrate narration—what Lyotard might call the dominant process. Both before and during times of slavery here in the United States there existed “narratives� which involved non-white individuals. These narratives perhaps were not “novels� as it were, but in one sort or another they were stories being told about the supposed true nature of blacks. Some of these stories likely emerged from religious myths—documented in the Old Testament—about curses and the punishment of dark skin. These narratives about blacks taught Americans that blacks were less than human and were better off placed in a position of servitude. Those narratives created a nearly universal language or way of seeing the world that resulted in cultural mores, religious beliefs, and ideological justifications aimed at subjecting the blacks to slavery. As we know, that narrative materialized into reality.
The process, in an extremely generalized form (necessary for the brevity of this presentation) operates in the following steps:
1, Narratives, or the stories we tell ourselves, materialize into language.
2, Language, or the way we see the world, materializes into customary knowledge.
3, Customary knowledge (culture, religion, ideology), are the influences that direct the way we construct the world—always in perception, and sometimes even in physicality.
For many the notion of narration preceding language can seem very problematic, and from my reading, it appears Lyotard does not explicitly address the issue. It seems Lyotard is writing in the NOW—hence, the title A Report on Knowledge—and, from that perspective Lyotard’s argument does not necessarily demand an argument for either position (narration precedes language/language precedes narration). However, it is something that greatly interests me, and I wonder that in the case of two individuals—who have not yet progressed to the point of experiencing the social interaction of “language�—it might be possible for a narrative to precede language, perhaps the story of one individual being eaten by a tiger?
Getting back to the point, let us forget temporarily the question of language preceding narration, and continue on with a focus on the processes of NOW. Without getting into numerous examples, I ask you to ask yourselves if your own reality, what you think you know, can be traced, first to the acceptance of some type of cultural, religious, or ideological tradition, and second, to any type of storytelling? I think—as would Lyotard—that it can be done, with some effort, in every case.
What then, does this reveal about contemporary “knowledge�? The dominant form of gathering it (narration) cannot be trusted. Why can it not be trusted? Because our “knowledge� can be traced in origin to narratives, in a sense, narratives are “knowledge�, and because narratives have always been arbitrarily constructed, and because there is no way to ascertain certitude that narration can properly mirror reality, there is no rational grounding for accepting what we call “knowledge�—as acquired through the process of narration—as true knowledge.
Some of you may be wondering where, in all of this, would Lyotard place science? Lyotard criticizes the legitimacy of scientific knowledge in three or more ways. The first is what appears to be the preeminent criticism of scientific inquiry. Science, according to Lyotard, “leaves behind the metaphysical search for a first proof or transcendental authority as a response to the question: “how do you prove the proof?��(29). (ad lib about apriori and aposteriori knowledge)
In building his second criticism of science Lyotard reminds us that:
The scientist questions the validity of narrative statements and concludes that they are never subject to argumentation or proof. He classifies them as belonging to a different mentality: savage, primitive, underdeveloped, backward, alienated, composed of opinions, customs, authority, prejudice, ignorance, ideology. (27)
Lyotard then recounts Plato’s attempts to legitimate science, and reminds us that “the answer� (to the question of how to legitimate science), “at least part of it, comes in the form of a narrative—the allegory of the cave, which recounts how and why men yearn for narratives and fail to recognize knowledge. Knowledge (says Lyotard) is thus founded on the narrative of its own martyrdom� (29). Why is this contradiction—or some might say hypocrisy—a valid criticism of science? Tu Quoi Que, or the cry of hypocrisy, is an ad-hominem attack that is often times considered fallacious. However, in this case it is not, for Lyotard anyways, because he has already established that narrative knowledge is not true knowledge. Thus, Lyotard concludes this criticism, by stating that “scientific knowledge cannot know and make known that it is the true knowledge without resorting to the other, narrative, kind of knowledge, which from its point of view is no knowledge at all�(29).
The third criticism is simply a broader application of the second criticism’s logical structure. Because of the way science operates now and has operated in the past—always being subjected to narratives of the state, narratives of religion, narratives of culture, or in modern times the narrative of economics—its existence is always dependant on a narrative of some sort, and because of that relationship to narratives, its legitimacy cannot be substantiated.
In conclusion, Lyotard relies upon anecdotal evidence to discourage belief in narrative knowledge (the stories we tell ourselves), and furthermore, he establishes that scientific inquiry—at least as it is practiced by human beings—is at worst merely a different narrative, and at best, it is unable to objectively operate outside of narration. Thus, the two dominant discourses for acquiring knowledge are not legitimated by Lyotard. He would perhaps believe that the two discourses are worthy ambitions—inasmuch as they embrace criticism—but will not grant them their supposed claims of true knowledge.
So perhaps true knowledge—for Lyotard—lies beyond the narrative, in discovering a truly objective, uninhibited, path towards knowledge? I do not think this is the case. Postmodernity—many experts, including Lyotard would say—offers an escape from our search for knowledge through narration, but does not necessarily lead us to true knowledge. It may be that even knowledge itself is only a dominant actor, in a dominant narrative, called the narrative of progression—a narrative that is conceivably false. Lyotard writes, “lamenting the loss of meaning in postmodernity boils down to mourning the fact that knowledge is no longer principally narrative�(26). I think the mourning spoken of by Lyotard comes from the uneasy feeling that arises after successfully deconstructing the legitimacy of scientific and narrative knowledge, thus finding yourself void of knowledge, and not knowing to where you will turn in search of it. I find comfort in Lyotard’s statement that “such a reaction does not necessarily follow� (26). The mourning that accompanies the loss of knowledge does however, usually follow, because most people live their lives within the “narrative of progression�. It seems we cannot be happy unless we are moving forward to a place we already know. I think that maybe we can find happiness in the intellectual journey, without knowing where it might take us. Perhaps the important thing is only to never stop.
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