Theory in/to practice
Early last year in London, I heard Eyal Weizman give a great, if more than a little disconcerting, talk about how Israeli military strategy is informed by the work of Deleuze and Guattari, and how the city emerges as a medium, as much as a site, for warfare. At the time, I couldn’t find a good link that summed up Weizman’s thoughts on how theory and practice aren’t as separate as some like to think, but now Rod’s found one:
The Art of War by Eyal Weizman
“There is a considerable overlap among the theoretical texts considered essential by military academies and architectural schools. Indeed, the reading lists of contemporary military institutions include works from around 1968 (with a special emphasis on the writings of Gilles Deleuze, Félix Guattari and Guy Debord), as well as more contemporary writings on urbanism, psychology, cybernetics, post-colonial and post-Structuralist theory. If, as some writers claim, the space for criticality has withered away in late 20th-century capitalist culture, it seems now to have found a place to flourish in the military.
[…]
Critical theory has become crucial for Nave’s teaching and training. He explained: ‘we employ critical theory primarily in order to critique the military institution itself – its fixed and heavy conceptual foundations. Theory is important for us in order to articulate the gap between the existing paradigm and where we want to go. Without theory we could not make sense of the different events that happen around us and that would otherwise seem disconnected’.
[…]
In addition to these theoretical positions, Naveh references such canonical elements of urban theory as the Situationist practices of dérive (a method of drifting through a city based on what the Situationists referred to as ‘psycho-geography’) and détournement (the adaptation of abandoned buildings for purposes other than those they were designed to perform). These ideas were, of course, conceived by Guy Debord and other members of the Situationist International to challenge the built hierarchy of the capitalist city and break down distinctions between private and public, inside and outside, use and function, replacing private space with a ‘borderless’ public surface. References to the work of Georges Bataille, either directly or as cited in the writings of Tschumi, also speak of a desire to attack architecture and to dismantle the rigid rationalism of a postwar order, to escape ‘the architectural strait-jacket’ and to liberate repressed human desires.
In no uncertain terms, education in the humanities – often believed to be the most powerful weapon against imperialism – is being appropriated as a powerful vehicle for imperialism.
[…]
When the military talks theory to itself, it seems to be about changing its organizational structure and hierarchies. When it invokes theory in communications with the public – in lectures, broadcasts and publications – it seems to be about projecting an image of a civilized and sophisticated military. And when the military ‘talks’ (as every military does) to the enemy, theory could be understood as a particularly intimidating weapon of ’shock and awe’, the message being: ‘You will never even understand that which kills you’.”
Anyone who knows me, knows how much I distrust and dislike military operations. Because I have so little respect, and because this kind of appropriation actually kind of disgusts me, I want to turn it into an ‘intellectual’ question for a moment. After all, I figure that anything that gets this strong a response out of me deserves to be looked at a bit closer.
Now, of course this isn’t the first or only time that academic research has been re-mixed or re-used, but it does provide a good example of how politically fraught the very idea of appropriation can be, and why the question of critical technological use and appropriation deserves more than cheerleaders in black Situationists ‘68 t-shirts.
So how can we get critical theory to work for us, rather than against us? And who is this “us” anyway?
June 8th, 2006 at 12:46 pm
Very interesting, and, of course, somewhat disgusting. It reminds of when I was joining the old Methodologies for the Study of Western History and Culture, aka “Meth,” program at Trent U., and I’d hear about all the previous grads who now worked in advertising and communications, promoting imperialism/capitalism since they were now experts in it after spending so many years up to that point learning how to critique it!
June 8th, 2006 at 3:58 pm
Entirely off the cuff and after spending too long in the sun, and breathing too much of the fumes from someone else’s badly lit barbeque, and 45 minutes of Blogger time-outs, I’d say that both of you feel a bit put out by the appropriation by the military-commercial complex of ideologies you’re fond of. But Debord was clear on this point. The spectacle consumes everything, including its own critique. So there’s no future in any given critique. It means that the military and capitalists cannot always be depended upon to be the enemy.
But maybe I’m only thinking that because I’m a bit put out by my own circumstances.
June 9th, 2006 at 8:14 am
thanks jason, and e-tat, i’m not sure it’s a question of ideology beyond the juncture of discourse and power. i’m not really looking for an “enemy,” and i think that what actually constitutes today’s military assemblage is vast and unpredictable. neither am i convinced that there is “no future in any critique” - although we’d probably want to be clear on what is meant by future
in any case what strikes me now, before my first cup of coffee in the morning, is that when critical theories are being mobilised by commercial interests - as in the case of, say, design or techno-social forecasting - they become different kinds of criticality that are able to do different kinds of things, both positive and negative.
now it isn’t a question of whose critical approach is best - that’s competitive like military operations and i’m not a soldier - but it can be a question of how critical perspectives are mobilised in different ways, to different ends.
the problem, it seems to me right now, is that some people struggle with differences that cannot be easily ranked. i also continue to see non-academics struggle with the difference between critique and criticism, both getting defensive and becoming aggressive at the mere suggestion of disagreement.
this gets back to my desire for convergence without consensus. it seems so simple, and so obvious to me, but it proves to be a great challenge in contexts where the objective is to do the “right thing.”
but now i’ve rambled so long i no longer know what i’m talking about, so i’ll stop
June 9th, 2006 at 8:28 am
Okay, I just read this:
“The question is not ‘What will the computer do to us?’ The question is ‘What will we make of the computer?’ The point is not to predict the computer future. The point is to make it. Our computer future could be made in many different forms. It will be determined not by the nature of the technology, but by a host of decisions of individual human beings. In the end, it is a political matter, a matter of social philosophy and of social decision how we will remake and rethink our world in the presence of technology. When we talk about computers in education, we should not think about a machine having an effect. We should be talking about the opportunity offered us, by this computer presence, to rethink [things]…”
The article is actually about technocentrism, which is what John Thackara also essentially objects to in terms of design and forecasting: no need to limit ourselves to a purely technological future. So where does critique fit here? How does it play out?
June 9th, 2006 at 7:58 pm
Anne, if I understand what you’re getting at, it’s something like the ways people deal with ambivalence, or reconcile significantly different approaches. This is what comes to mind as convergence without consensus, except that consensus might well be displaced by cognitive dissonance or some other form of rationalisation.
If you are asking how people deal with difference, one part if the answer is that sometimes, they don’t. Or they respond defensively. So should we be looking for ways to change that?
Your subsequent point seems to be about what I’ll call self-actualisation (i.e., the future) in relation to technology. I see that’s not your central point, but is the focus of the Papert segment.
At this point, and without having a clearer sense of what you mean by critique, my guess is that you are simply asking how a critical approach to something like futurism plays out, or how the techniques of self-actualisation might be affected by a particular critique. In these examples, it’s not a matter of finding an answer, but of illuminating possibilities.
That’s what I get from what you’ve written here.