The crisis in humanism
The crisis in humanism stems from a slow but insidious erosion of the key principle of modern thought – which Foucault referred to as ‘man and his doubles’. I am simply assuming here a notion of modernity that is based on the centrality of human being as both origin and destiny of reason, finding expressions in the ascendance of man over God, nature and history; the displacement of religion by science, the expropriation of laws of nature and natural resources for industrious human productivity and the subjection of contingencies to self-reflective institutionalised forms of governance and regulation.
In the famous last section of the Order of Things, Foucault already predicted the demise of ‘man’:
“One thing in any case is certain: man is neither the oldest nor the most constant problem that has been posed for human knowledge….It is not around him and his secrets that knowledge prowled for so long in the darkness… As the archaeology of our thought easily shows, man is an invention of recent date. And one perhaps nearing its end. If those arrangements were to disappear as they appeared… then one can certainly wager that man would be erased, like a face drawn in the sand at the edge of the sea (Foucault, M., 1970: 386-7).”
According to Lyotard (e.g. the Inhuman), the crisis of humanism is brought about by a particular anamnesis – a coming to terms with the significativity of Auschwitz. It is perhaps too simplistic to bring this all back to one slogan, uttered by Nietzsche as ‘the Death of God’ which – for Nietzsche at least – heralded the brief but painful spell of the reign of man (which was soon to be ended by the reign of the plebeians – communism - and then the reign of nothing). Nietzsche was of course referring to modernity. Simplistic – no doubt - but very effective. It is perhaps a bit more remarkable that towards a later stage in his life, Heidegger would recognise more fully the demise of modern humanism and uttered that ‘Only a God can save us’.
The crisis in humanism however, has not remained an exclusive philosophical affair. The 20th Century, the century of high modernism, also witnessed a human crisis in terms of the meaning-fullness of life. I am referring here to the existential insecurity that emerges when we are confronted by the possibility of a pure arbitrariness of being. This is when the plebs no longer desire for utopia (because their needs are forever being commodified) – when Nietzsche brutal historical force of the will to power, is revealed in its bare nihilistic arbitrariness.
This pure arbitrariness of being owes quite a bit to a revolution in biology – when life (already stripped of divine mystery by modern 18th Century science) transformed from being defined as the capacity for self-reproduction, i.e. a cell-based entity – to something that was no longer predicated upon the primacy of the cell but merely evolved as a series of proteins, DNA, RNA, i.e. viruses. I am referring to molecular biology and in its wake the birth of genetics.
The idea of DNA as ‘the book of life’ is an ironic mockery of the dual mysteries of intextuation and incarnation. These mysteries have been exposed in a pornographic fashion, as a mere series of protein-based codes. There is nothing to life but long strings of codes, which can be deciphered, taken apart, re-assembled and (in theory) modified. Using the pioneering work of Shannon and Weaver in mathematical communication theory, genetics adopted the model of information-processing as the basic trope for understanding life. Being alive in this worldview, is identical to being in communication. Plato’s cave is turned inside out; there are no ideas, no real objects, just shadows on the wall. The age of genetics is the age of the reign of the Simulacrum.
Social scientists, as always, were a bit late to catch on. So, when Marxists were still occupying their time with debates about the relative force of structural conditions versus class struggle, geneticists were already ten steps ahead, re-interpreting all that exists as forms of data-in-procession. When humanists finally purged their beloved Birmingham School from Althusserian structuralism, as emblematically performed in a sort of confessional mode by Stuart Hall, no self-respecting biologist attained a notion of the human species that depended on an organic understanding of human being; instead, human being was a mere variation of protein codes.
However, even if social scientists cannot be blamed for not reading biology, the can be blamed for failing to understand the world they inhabit. I am introducing a very delicate issue here. By the time the poststructuralist challenge to humanism became popular in the academy (in the early 1980s), most western nations at least already had legalised abortion. That is to say, the society which social scientists at least are called to understand, had already moved on from an anthropocentric definition of life, to a more functional one. The question is not whether one defines abortion as a ‘reproductive right’ or as a ‘moral issue’ (e.g. Ferree et al, 2004). That is completely irrelevant.
The issue here is what the very allowance of abortion means in terms of one’s understanding of what life is. If one accepts abortion, one is faced with a choice to either accept that it is a permissible form of murder (that is killing another human being) – which, in essence, runs counter to the basic premise of humanism (so brutally exposed in Auschwitz) - or that some human life forms are not human enough to qualify as a life form. That is to say, whereas the first option heralds the end of the hegemony of humanism, the second effectively changed the meaning of human life by default. For example, by referring to this as ‘the fetal life frame’, Ferree et al (2004) are able to present an allegedly neutral account of abortion-debates as index-cases of the state of political culture in Germany and the USA; using or not using the fetal-life frame thus becomes itself an arbitrary choice, which is allegedly motivated by political interests or will to power.
Finally, the death of humanism could and should have been perceived by the social sciences a lot earlier because it was evidenced in the way in which human social forms were being reconfigured. The post-war era is often coined as an era of consumerism, commodification and individualization. All three terms are nails in the coffin if humanism. All three signal some form of dehumanization, a transference of the unique centrality of the human being as origin and destiny of reason, to values derived from market-transactions, object-relations and alienation. Indeed, what today is celebrated as innovative theoretical concepts, e.g. actor networks or assemblages, are nothing but descriptors of processing that were already dominating popular culture in the 1950s and 1960s. The Frankfurt School theorists saw this and cried out in despair, but to no avail.
The application of this unholy trinity of consumerism (as the arche-type of human-object relations), commodification (as a system of generating and homogenizing all value as exchange value) and individualisation (as the new principle of sociality) found a highly visible expression in what is now referred to as ‘the sexual revolution’. The sexual revolution, which can be seen as a massive shift towards a dual process of the commodification of sex and the sexualisation of commodities, is such a visible epiphenomenon of the death of humanism that it is surprising to see how many humanists have actually celebrated it as a liberation. It took them surprisingly long to see that what was being generated was an pandemic of anti-humanism: from pornography to the medicalization of women’s bodies, from the contraception industry to sexual health expertise, whole industries of dehumanization emerged under this banner of liberation (e.g. all entail an objectification of the human body). As an indicator of how confused humanism must have been at the time, the active pursuit and celebration of hedonism in the name of emancipation forged uncanny alliances between ‘progressive emancipatory politics’ and pornography (e.g. ‘hippie culture’). Even today, being progressive in generally associated with sexual permissiveness.
It was the crude interruption of this orgiastic by radical feminists in the late 1970s that suddenly alerted us to the smell of the advanced state of decomposition of modern humanism. They hammered home a not so welcome message that hedonism is not a quid pro quo game – but also contains losers. Those who lose out tend to be women. They often ended up with the ‘fall out’ of the hedonistic pursuit of pleasure, varying from unwanted pregnancies and STIs to rape and violent abuse. The price paid by radical feminism was considerable; the humanism it was able to salvage was only a half-humanism, it only applied to women and thus as a humanism in contradiction within itself, becoming usurped by a form of identity politics that requires intransient and essentialist categories of inclusion and exclusion similar to those seeking to distinguish between a baby and a foetus.
January 4th, 2006 at 10:12 am
Happy New Year Joost!
Wow - this is interesting, but I’ll have to read it again before commenting properly…
In the meantime, I thought you might be interested in The Edge Annual Question: What is Your Dangerous Idea?
See in particular Sherry Turkle’s comments on simulations, as well as Irene Pepperberg on what it means to be human, but there are all sorts of related ideas there…