Foucault and Virilio Kritik UTNFI 2012
Foucault and Virilio Kritik UTNFI 2012
ambivalence (Bernstein, 1971, pp.26–27). Just when the planners seem to have succeeded completely, when
control is gained over the last variable that could possibly interfere with movement,
transport planning has demolished its own rationale of freedom as mobility. There is no
longer any reason not to travel. Potential transport becomes an oxymoron, and no one rests
in peace.
Third, the expert discourses that circulate around transportation produce the
normative travelling body. The affirmative disciplines the citizen into an
efficient consumer while excluding bodies not fit for transit. Mobility planning
manages micro-practices in order to secure the economic function of the city.
Bonham 6 [Jennifer, The Editorial Board of the Sociological Review “Transport:
disciplining the body that travels”]
The disciplining of the travelling body has been examined in detail elsewhere (Bonham, 2002), the main point to be made in this
chapter is the historical specificity of that body. The
normalizing discourses which have brought the efficient (or
economical) traveller into effect have been so utterly effective because they have been produced, circulated, and
elaborated by a multiplicity of experts working across a number of disciplines and agencies.
The knowledges brought into effect by these experts not only coalesced with each other but also
normalized the efficient traveller. This normalization was made complete when, in 1949, George Zipf announced that
an underlying principle of all human behaviour was the desire to minimize human effort (Zipf, 1949: v). This naturalization
of
the ‘efficient body’, which underpins present day transport research, placed the modern body
outside of the political domain and therefore beyond question . As the body was disciplined to move
efficiently, knowledge began to proliferate on the journey and on how to secure its economic
conduct. One hundred years of micro-investigations and interventions into the spaces, bodies, mechanisms, and conduct of
travel are difficult to unravel. I would argue, however, that breaking motoring into its constituent parts is an important task for three
reasons. First, because it disrupts the fusion – or the illusion of unity (car, body, space, conduct) – that transport experts (road and
vehicle designers, road safety experts, transport planners and modellers) work in earnest to create. Second, eachof these
constituent parts is linked into broader socio-spatial relations that are marginalized or
excluded as researchers – once again – prioritize the motorist and motoring as a site of
investigation. Finally, it seems it is in these constituent parts that the apparent dominance of the motoring experience can be
fractured and destabilized. The first part of this chapter focused upon the objectification of, and interventions into, the spaces and
uses of the street from the late nineteenth to the early twentieth centuries. It was argued that theseinterventions
reinforced each other to produce the street not just as a site of movement but as a site of
efficient movement. The logic of the economic journey provided the basis for designating
street space for a new order of mobility. The second part of the chapter focused upon the objectification of the
travelling body and the human capacities necessary to fast, orderly movement. As these capacities were identified, norms were
established and individual travellers could be positioned in relation to these norms. Those
bodies that fell outside of the norm were excluded from particular travel practices such as
driving. Nonetheless, all travellers were targeted to conduct themselves efficiently both at the
micro level of their own bodies and in reference to the journeys made by others . The ordering
of street uses and street spaces within discourses on urban planning and engineering
coalesced with the ordering of travelling bodies within discourses on psychology and medicine
to value the efficient body and secure the economical operation of the city . It was through the first
half of the twentieth century that the street was entrenched as a site of economical travel and travellers disciplined to this ordering
of movement. As this order was established, it became meaningful to produce knowledge about journeys and innovations in the
travel survey made this practicable. The origin-destination survey enabled transport planners to identify the precise points in the
urban environment between which people moved – the point-to-point journey, or ‘trip’, was no longer an abstraction. These
surveys, in turn, enabled the elaboration of the journey in terms of the timing and duration of journeys, the routes along which
people travelled and the mode of travel. Norms could then be established in relation to each of these ‘trip criteria’ (origin,
destination, duration, route). Transport planners used these criteria to determine which modes of travel maximized choice and they
intervened in the urban environment to secure the conditions necessary for these travellers (Bonham, 2002). The new field of
transport enabled the elaboration of a range of mechanisms (safety programmes, regulatory devices such as traffic lights, street and
vehicle designs) to structure the field of action of the ‘free’ urban traveller toward the efficient conduct of the journey. The
ordering of urban movement established in the first part of the twentieth century was (and
still is) fundamental to the field of urban transport and the present-day conduct of travel.
Fourth, the highway and the rail-line are the concentration camps of speed.
Through the domination of time, transportation acts as the last fortification of
the states ability to conduct war. The continued appropriation of space by
technologies of speed makes the Earth into a battlefield.
Virilio, Curator of the Museum of the Accident, in ‘5 |Paul, Negative Horizon,
Pg. 58-9|
Deterritorialization inaugurates the sublimation of domestic pacification, ¶ the bringing about of great movements of colonists
announces¶ the age of massive and accelerated migrations: beyond exocolonization, ¶ an endocolonization, the acceleration of a
distancing, the incessant¶ quotidian bustle and the absence of settlements beyond the city limits ,¶
the gyrovague cycles of work and leisure and no longer the ostracism ¶ of deportation. 'This mass of individuals visible
in the smallest military¶ unit unites in a common voyage' that Clausewitz described long ago, ¶
public transport generalizes it today: transport became civilization . Both¶ the long highway
convoys of holidaymakers and the suburban trains¶ of the proletarian itineration define a
political isobar, a new frontier,¶ literally a last front, that of movement and of its violence .
Already the¶ German geographer Ratzel defined war as the promenade' of one's ¶ frontier over the terrain of the adversary, the
front being merely a¶ wandering frontier, its line being merely a military isobar. From this ¶ point forth the front line will pass
through the centre of towns, through¶ the heart of the countryside, and the common voyage of the task force¶ advances with the
incessant movement of traffic. High-speed routes¶ are the next to last figure of the fortification , but a
fortification that is¶ once again identified, as during the pastoral era, with time saved and ¶ no longer with permanent obstacles. If
the capacity for sudden onset¶ is indeed the essence of war, it is also that of the modern State .
'The¶ weapon of the Army Service Corps', the totality of supply networks ¶ functions like a last place/non-place of political power
putting the full¶ scope of the state apparatus into play. 'An army is always strong enough¶ when it can go and come, extend itself
and draw itself back in, as it¶ wishes and when it wishes.' This phrase of the ancient Chinese strategist ¶ Se Ma presents the
pneumatic dimension of the transit camp, or¶ rather, of the unspeakable social migration, vectorial image of a combat ¶ without
battle but not without fear, that gives rise to an extermination¶ that extends throughout the world and spreads its victims across
the¶ field of excess speed. At
the beginning of the transportation revolution, ¶ Field Marshal von Moltke wrote:
'We prefer the construction of the¶ railway to that of the fortification' - a phrase that could
have been¶ interpreted as pacifist if the invasion of France in 1870 had not introduced ¶ a cruel
contradiction to the ideology of 'progress through the¶ increased speed of transports'. Whatever
one may say, to vanquish is¶ always to advance, and to gain in speed [frenare de la vitesse] is always¶ to
take power [preñare lepouvoir], since there is always a dromocrat to¶ declare, like Frederick II on the subject
of the Austrians: 'Indolent in¶ their movements, slow in executing their projects, they regarded time as¶ their own.¶ Let us not
forget, we are all Austrians, the
slow [lent] and the violent¶ confront one another in this 'battle between
classes of speed' that has¶ gone on since the innovation of that first logistical support of space
that¶ was the woman of burden. Transports govern production, including the¶ production of destruction; since the
problem of the transport is parallel¶ to that of munitions, the speed of action always depends
upon the¶ state of the logistical system . After von Moltke, it was Luddendorf who¶ stated in 1918: 'The Allied victory
is the victory of French trucks on¶ the German railway. It was no longer the victory of a people, a nation,¶ or even of a general, but
rather the victory of a vector. The
place of¶ war is no longer the frontier that bounds the territory, but
that point¶ where the machine of transport moves. And with the beginning of the¶ Second World War, General
Guderian, practitioner of the Blitzkrieg,¶ concluded: 'where we find the tanks, there is the front'. Thus he fulfils ¶ Goebbels designs,
who already in 1929 claimed: 'He who can conquer¶ the road, conquers also the State'. All is front from this point on, since ¶
everything is mobilized at all times and in all terrains. Where we find¶ the travelling machine, there is the State, the country has
disappeared¶ in the non-place of the State of emergency, territorial space vanishes, ¶ only Time remains - but only the time that
remains.¶ Now each vector administers the time of the passenger in expelling ¶ him through the unleashing of the beyond, speed is
the progress of¶ violence at the same time as its advantage; beyond the territorial body, ¶ each speed constitutes a fleeting 'province
of time' where the old role of¶ places disappears in the geographic annihilation of distances. The
urban¶ motorway is not
a pathway of transmission, but the concentration ¶ camp of speed; segregation and
incarceration stem far more from the¶ violence of displacement than from various police
controls - a highway¶ colony, similar to the staircase of Mauthausen, that motorists extend by¶ the
increased performance of their vehicles, by the tolls or tickets that ¶ sanction excessive speeds
far more than the excess of speed.¶ In reality, with the dromocratic revolution of transports, it is
the¶ administration of Time that starts to take shape. The interest in ¶ dominating time far
more than territory already made its appearance ¶ in the cult of the train schedule. Frederick of
Prussia's desire for¶ conquest became that of every industrial state: it is no longer invasion ¶ that forms the foundation of the law but
its speed, pure speed. The direct¶ line [droite ligne] of the pathway of penetration indispensable to its¶ celerity symbolizes the
extermination of public rights [droit public]:,¶ the
emergency literally caused the traditional political
structures to¶ implode. In contracting distances, it causes the forces of the marching ¶ order to
intervene in every sector of public life. Under the virtuous¶ pretexts of risks and dangers
resulting from the acceleration of relations,¶ the project of a rigorous management of Time,
following that of space,¶ tends to become that of a prevention of the moment....¶ In metamorphosing into an 'integral security',
defence finally brings¶ about the perfection of the principle of fortificatio n that Vauban¶ announced as
follows: 'War must be immediately superimposable on¶ all habitable places in the world'.
Fifth, ensuring the health of the social body is the underside of the power to
mobilize populations for war. Global extinction would not be possible without
the unquestioned biopolitics of the 1AC.
Foucault, in ’76 [Michel, The History of Sexuality, pg. 136-137]
Since the classical age the West has undergone a very¶ profound transformation of these mechanisms of power.¶ "Deduction" has
tended to be no longer the major form of¶ power but merely one element among others, working to¶ incite, reinforce, control,
monitor, optimize, and organize¶ the forces under it: a power bent on generating forces, making ¶ them grow, and ordering them,
rather than one dedicated¶ to impeding them, making them submit, or destroying them.¶ There has been a parallel shift in the right
of death, or at least¶ a tendency to align itself with the exigencies of a life-administering¶ power and to define itself accordingly.
This death that¶ was based on the right of the sovereign is now manifested as ¶ simply the
reverse of the right of the social body to ensure,¶ maintain, or develop its life. Yet wars were
never as bloody¶ as they have been since the nineteenth century, and all things being equal,
never before did regimes visit such holocausts¶ on their own populations. But this formidable
power of death¶ -and this is perhaps what accounts for part of its force and¶ the cynicism with which it has so greatly
expanded its limits¶ -now presents itself as the counterpart of a power that ¶ exerts a positive
influence on life, that endeavors to administer,¶ optimize, and multiply it, subjecting it to
precise controls¶ and comprehensive regulations. Wars are no longer waged in¶ the name of a
sovereign who must be defended; they are¶ waged on behalf of the existence of everyone;
entire populations¶ are mobilized for the purpose of wholesale slaughter in¶ the name of life
necessity: massacres have become vital. It is¶ as managers of life and survival, of bodies _and
the race, that¶ so many regimes have been able to wage so many wars,¶ causing so many men
to be killed. And through a turn that¶ closes the circle, as the technology of wars has caused them¶ to tend
increasingly toward all-out destruction, the decision¶ that initiates them and the one that
terminates them are in¶ fact increasingly informed by the naked question of survival. ¶ The
atomic situation is now at the end point of this process: ¶ the power to expose a whole
population to death is the¶ underside of the power to guarantee an individual's continued ¶
existence. The principle underlying the tactics of battle- ¶ that one has to be capable of killing
in order to go on¶ living-has become the principle that defines the strategy of ¶ states. But the
existence in question is no longer the juridical ¶ existence of sovereignty; at stake is the
biological existence¶ of a population. If genocide is indeed the dream of modern ¶ powers, this
is not because of a recent return of the ancient ¶ right to kill; it is because power is situated
and exercised at¶ the level of life, the species, the race, and the large-scale ¶ phenomena of
population.
____ Transportation infrastructure is a just a way for the state to securitize the
transactions of the market through normalizing the social body.
Nadesan, Professor Social & Behavioral Sciences, ASU, in ‘8 [Majia Holmer,
“Governmentality, Biopower, and Everyday Life”, pg. 51]
From Foucault's perspective, liberalism
birthed the idea of the autonomous ¶ market as a critique of state
sovereignty. Foucault (1997c) remarked in "The¶ Birth of Biopolitics" that the "market as a reality and political
economy as¶ a theory played an important role in the liberal critique," although " liberalism¶ is
neither the consequence nor the development of these " (p. 76).¶ For Foucault, the market played "the
role of a ' test'" for excessive governmentality ¶ (p. 76). He observed that the market's relevance as test stemmed¶ from the
" basic incompatibility between the optimal development of its ¶ economic process and a maximization of governmental procedures" (p. ¶ 76). Thus,
the liberal critique of excessive government settled on the market ¶ freeing " reflection on
economic practices from the hegemony of the ' reason¶ of the state'" (p. 76).¶ By focusing on the market,
the liberal philosophers hoped to dislocate¶ the mercantile formulation of the sovereign as the
seat of power and economic¶ administration, freeing the circulation of goods and control
from¶ the sovereign reins of power. Accordingly, seventeenth-century merchants¶ and financers heeded the call of individuals
such as Sir Dudley North, who¶ advocated " Peace, Industry and Freedom that bring Trade and Wealth and ¶ nothing else" (cited in Davies, 1952, p.
284). These aspirations would be¶ fully articulated in eighteenth-century political economy, which articulated¶ rights within a semantic context of
individual ownership. The
emerging¶ philosophy of liberalism critiqued sovereign authority over
market transactions¶ but, simultaneously, called upon the state to securitize those transactions ¶
through legal and transportation infrastructures. The state was also ¶ called upon to police the
poor, to govern those who were viewed as ungovernable ¶ or as requiring government (Dean, 1990;
Driver, 1993).
TI = governmentality
____ Mobility and governmentality are inseparable - the construction of
transportation infrastructure is simultaneously the construction of the ideal
American subject.
Conley 2010 (Donovan, Ph.D., University of Illinois, Champaign-Urbana, “Grid
and Swerve,” Critical Studies in Media Communication, Vol. 27, No. 1,
http://www.tandfonline.com/loi/rcsm20.)
The federal government’s presence in the development of the West emerged through scattered, low-
level thrusts of state exertion: through the military that accompanied surveyor and settlement parties; through trading and/or
forced removal of Native Indians; through economic policies and infrastructural projects; through Congressional Statutes and
Supreme Court decisions; and, most profoundly, through
the distribution and regulation of public lands. The
West thus became a political lever, the terrain through which the American nation-state
became ‘‘governmentalized’’ (Foucault, 1991, p. 103). No longer a vast ‘‘empty’’ region, the western territory
quickly became a striated space of nationalistic determination. To merely traverse this space
was to announce oneself as a national subject. Increasingly through the thirties and forties,
territorial mobility carried with it the imprimatur of the state. To move about was therefore to
navigate one’s relation to the grid of governance that was conquering space in the name of
the nation. The clearest expression of this fact remains the geo-political grid of roads, canals,
and public lands that were patched together in the antebellum period under the shiny label
‘‘Internal Improvements.’’ These ‘‘Internal Improvements’’ established a grid of mobility as the
ground of the nation-state. Together the ‘‘communications’’ network and the land grid
consolidated, distributed, administered and mapped the spatiomaterial activities of the
antebellum populace. This grand feat of national ‘‘improvement’’ thus became, in turn, a
space of state-sponsored mobility. To borrow an observation from de Certeau, ‘‘the geometrical space of urbanists
and architects seems to have the status of the ‘proper meaning’ constructed by grammarians and linguists in order to have a normal
and normative level to which they can compare the drifting of ‘figurative’ language’’ (1988, p. 100). Let us add to urbanists and
architects the normalizing role of civil engineers and surveyors, territorial legislatures and courts, administrative offices and military
outposts (Lawson & Seidman, 2004). What must be appended to this observation, however, is the fact that such grids of normativity
do not exert themselves as such in actually-existing social space. De Certeau thus adds, ‘‘In reality, this faceless ‘proper’ meaning . . .
cannot be found in current use, whether verbal or pedestrian; it is merely the fiction produced by a use that is also particular, the
metalinguistic use of science that distinguishes itself by that very distinction’’ (1988, p. 100). The grid as such, in other words, is an
imperfect realization of the dream of social perfection; or, more to the point, a fractured expression of the dream of
seamlessness*what Fisher calls ‘‘damaged social space’’ (1988, p. 75). In its imperfection, nevertheless, the
grid shaped the
terrain of national mobility, funneling the movements of bodies, goods and (before the
telegraph) information through social space. It thus became a defacto grid of governance, a
terrain of designed mobility. The ways of navigating this terrain in turn articulate the possible
ways of traversing the political ground of the state itself. It is here that we turn to Margaret Fuller’s aleatory
style of western travel.
TI = Speed
____ The success of transportation infrastructure depends on speed and
efficiency because they are constituents of the modern war machine. The Aff’s
emphasis on speed enables military violence.
Virilio and Lotringer 83 (Paul and Sylver, Paul Virilio philosopher, Sylvère
Lotringer, Ph.D. Professor Emeritus of French literature and philosophy at
Columbia University., Pure War, pg. 44-45).
And only that. This brings me back to some ancient but clear-cut examples. We have two sides of the regulation of
speed and wealth. Up until the nineteenth century, society was-founded on the brake. Means
of furthering speed were very scant. You had ships, but sailing ships evolved very little between Antiquity and
Napoleon's time; the horse even less; and of course there were carrier pigeons. The ·only machine to use speed with
and sophistication was the optical telegraph, then the electronic telegraph. In general, up until
the nineteenth century, there was no production of speed. They could produce brakes by
means of ramparts, the law, rules, interdictions, etc. They could break using all kinds of
obstacles. (It's not by chance that ancient society was one of the successive obstacles on the level of people, of morals, of
terrotial defmition-whether it was the city walls, taxes, the fortified systems of the Nation-State: all of them were-so many Brakes)
suddenly, there's the great revolution that others have called the Industrial Revolution or the
Transportation revolution I call it a dromocratic revolution because what was invented was
not only, as has been said, the possibility of multiplying similar objects (which to my' mind is a
completely limited vision), but especially a means of fabricating speed with the steam engine. then
the combustion engine. And so they can pass from age of brakes to the age of the accelerator.
In other words power will be invested in acceleration itself. We know that the army has
always been the place where pure speed is used, whether in the cavalry-the best horses, of
course, were army horses artillery, etc. Still today, the army uses the most prominent speeds-
whether it be in missiles or planes. Take the examples of uproar around the American SST. It wasn't built because
Americans were very worried at the idea of building a civilian supersonic jet that would go faster than military jets. It's very clear
that the hierarchy of speed is ,equivalent to the hierarchy of wealth The two are coupled. And there; indeed, the state of emergency
the age of intensiveness; is linked to the primacy of speed not only on the scale of a more or less effective calvary or naval weapon.
mobile bridge, whereas the¶ body of woman was only a precarious body-footbridge, the horses
body¶ becomes the symbol of the hipparch and beyond him of the monarchy,¶ the leader who harnesses and directs these animal
energies. Well before¶ the invention of the arch among sedentary cultures, the body of the ¶
mount sketches out the construction of the bridge that spans the ¶ distance of the moat, the
gap of the river; the symbolic function of the¶ horse that disperses (skedasi?*) the enemy doubles with the
function¶ of exchange, the mount becomes an 'elevated crossroads', literally, an¶ interchange
[échangeur], as the cabalistic tradition would call it later ¶ on— To finish, these points [points], these bridges [ponts],
produce¶ the port [porfì, this site where the animal lays down its load will mineralize ¶ into the
architectonic of the portal [porte], veritable port of¶ earth' of caravan transience, a gearbox [botte
de vitesses] where the value¶ of movement is exchanged for the octroi of a taxation on invasion ¶
trades; a value that repeats, in the economy this time, the power of the¶ transshipment of the cavalry, this 'charge of rupture'27
that will trigger¶ the progressive development of the urban ramparts erected against the ¶ assault of waves of animals like the quay
against the ocean. In fact,¶ the slanted postern that allows the connecting route to pass through is ¶ similar to the entrance to the
fortified port, between the defence towers of¶ the urban enclosure and those of the port citadel, a similar 'liquidation is¶ at work, in
the example of the 'portal', it is a question of the turbulence¶ of the dry flux of passengers that must be controlled by the design of¶
the surroundings; in
the case of the 'port', it is a question of the flow ¶ that 'ports' the vessels. The
defence is thus double since it is necessary ¶ to protect oneself not only from the water and
tidal movements by the¶ erection of the quay, but also from naval manoeuvres. In the continental¶
city, the entrance is merely a 'dry port' where the defences control access ¶ based in the immediate outlying area where the
topography has been¶ levelled off, worn down, to facilitate control of various movements. The¶
port with its customs
control, allowing for the engagement and disengagement ¶ of internal and external
movements, is the most important ¶ thing for the art of Western fortification and will be taken
up later by¶ the railway stations and airports.
Rail
____ Railways enable a panoptic mode of authoritarianism through the
imposition of timetables and the increased alignment of the center and
periphery
Symes 2011 (Colin, Faculty of Human Sciences, Macquarie University, “Time and
Motion: Chronometry and the Railway Timetables of New South Wales, 1855-
1906,” Kronoscope Vol. 11, No. 1-2]
According to Actor Network theory (ANT), tools, machines, and technologies form ensembles of organic and non-organic entities,
hybrids of human beings and machines. Included in these ensembles are semiotic tools, which have the capacity to symbolically
underwrite, record, ‘memorise,’ transport, and articulate their operations (Graham 1998). As Bruno Latour wistfully observes, it
is
hard to know whether we are in charge of our machines, or they us. Trains are a case in point.
They were, and remain, complex ensembles of mechanical, social, and textual ‘actors .’ Back stage,
hidden from passengers, myriad spatial and temporal calculations must be undertaken if train ensembles are to perform to their
optimum, stick to their schedules and not, as it were, go ‘off the rails.’ Train crews need to be rostered (itself an exercise in time
management) and rolling stock must be marshalled for them to crew. Whatever else it is, time is a phenomenon of inscription, of
semiotics, of textual adjuncts that in the case of timetables ‘direct’ and make possible railway journeys (Latour 1997). It
is signs
(including natural ones) that illustrate the passage of time, framing its quantitative and qualitative ‘feel.’ Railways
overflow with such signs, albeit, figurative, enumerating ones. The imperatives of railway time (as opposed to other
forms of timing) are that it is rational and calculating, efficient and economical. Railways form
complex networks of human and machine actors conveying passengers and freight —‘ticket items’
in more senses than one. Without them, railway systems would atrophy. Further, analysis of the ticket items (information tokens
standing in lieu of passengers and freight) permits railway efficiency to be monitored and checked. The timetable is the railway’s
information management system, providing a basis for rationalising and scheduling passengers and freight, preventing time wastage
and overcrowding, in short, avoiding poor distributions of ticket items across the system. As a chronographic, the
timetable
represents time and motion as enumerated information , enabling travel futures to be seen and itineraries to
be planned and scoped. In the absence of timetables, planning journeys ahead of time and identifying trains to catch would be
difficult. As such, a timetable constitutes an interface document, one that links human actors with
machines, in this case trains with their passengers, their drivers, guards, porters and so on. In doing so, the timetable
choreographs (sets in train) a range of complementary actions among the network’s actors, those concerned with a train’s departure
and arrival, with running on time. Being clockwise entails being on time and not wasting time; and to be
counter-clockwise is to be, so to speak, ill trained . Arguably, the horology engendered by falling into line with
timetables extended beyond the railway state, to the education state and to the factory state. Of particular salience was
that ‘distance’ could be ‘governed’ as never before, and that the periphery could be brought
into alignment with the centre—Simmel’s “mutual relations” (1997, 177). In effect, the timetable is a
“powerful system of governmentality that normatively locates trains, people and activities at
specific places and moments ” (Urry 2007, 98). Remote locations can be brought within the sphere
of influence of individuals to an unprecedented degree. Actions can be projected through time
and space, ‘here’ thereby influencing ‘there,’ ‘now’ ‘later.’ The railway ’s contribution to the renovated
horology was that it synchronised actions across space, adding the factor of motion to spatial and
temporal accounting. Hence, distances are now expressed temporally —in how long it takes to reach a
destination, not how far it is. Timetables made it possible to direct actions across space, to control the
movement of unseen members of the community, at some designated time in the future . Trains
could be met, appointments kept, and freight collected. They also exacted an influence on passengers’ in-train performances, such
that they knew when they should prepare to alight, so as not to overshoot their destinations. They also ensured that punctuality,
pace Simmel (1997, 177), was not confined to the city.
If hazard, inefficiency, and confusion were to be
avoided, all parts of the railway state had to fall into line with its timetables . Thus the onus on us
knowing the time and being on time was spread throughout the state. In Australia’s case, it entailed that city time was eventually
exported to the bush. Timetables were originally called “schemes of departure” (Simmons 1995, 183). There were three distinctive
features of the time they ‘fixated.’ First, it was on the move, was mobile not stationary. Second, it included topographic information.
Third, it took a ‘tabular’ form and was organised axially. Instead of being ‘dialled,’ as on a clock, railway time was horizontally and
vertically distributed in columns and rows, was framed in cells as a series of stops. All stops were ordered as they were in actual
space (A before B, C after B, and so on).
Telecommunications Link
____ Telecommunications enable a new form of global war and violence.
Virilio ’01 [cultural theorist and urbanist] Virilio Live pg. 82 edited by John
Armitage
First of all, one can no longer speak of space or time without speaking of speed . Philosophically, but
above all physically, to speak of a space is instantly to speak of the relationship of time to this space.
Thus to speak of time is to refer to the time of displacement and the time of perception.
Clearly, in war, which for centuries has essentially amounted to wars of movement, wars of
displacement (based on assaults, attacks), one must start implementing greater, more decisive
speeds in military confrontations. This tendency is of course evident in assault techniques
(cavalry, tanks), but it becomes even more manifest in telecommunication techniques, that is,
techniques of perception and information. In this sense, a war is always a reorganization of space.
A new war reorganizes the space of society by its means of assault and by its means of
information. This was clear in the Gulf War in an exemplary and, in my view, definitive way
because it concerned an extremely limited local wax that could only be won so quickly
because it was controlled on a global scale.The technologies of real time that still weren’t
perfected with the invention of the telegraph and the telephone since a delay remained;( due to
the coding and transmission of the message), have attained their maximum scale. It is now possible for us
to act, to teleact, in real time and not only to gather information and perceive by satellite . As I
have often said, we can distinguish between three decisive actions, each tied to a certain period: tele-audition (telephone, radio),
television in differed time, and finally tele-action, that is, the possibility of tele-acting instantaneously regardless of the distance. I
stand rather alone in insisting that speed is clearly the determining factor. In my capacity as
social analyst, I do not wish to deliver monologues but to partake in a dialogue. For the past twenty-five years, my work has
nevertheless been solitaiy. To say that speed is a determining factor in society requires proof, an
effort that is starting to exhaust me. Thus, in my view the Gulf War was a kind of confirmation
of what I announced seven years previously in War and Cinema.
City Planning
____ The desire to map out the city and land in a method of planning is based in
the historical notion of militarization that maps out the environment based on
a violent military order that attempts to secure total control.
Bratton 2k6 (Benjamin H., Lecturer @ the Southern California School or
Architecture at UCLA, “Logistics of Habitable Circulation,” Introduction to 2006
Edition of Speed and Politics, pg. 11-12)
"History progresses at the speed of its weapons systems;" that is, at the speed of the
competitive capacities to envision, draw, map, curtail, mobilize, contour, stabilize and police
the polis (90). At least since Vitruvius defined the rules of architecture based on his own military engineering experience, it is
understood that the design of space is already a strategic weapon of fortification. But
architectural media are only one such means and the evolution of their deployments is
interrelated and serpentine. Marquis de Vauban, Louis XIV's chief military engineer of fortifications
(and of their breaching), made to his king the unusual recommendation that in order to secure
a less permeable border with France's neighbors he should voluntarily cede contested land
deemed "indefensible." The plan realized Richelieu's earlier image to France as "le pre carre,"or the "squared field," and in
fact this same phrase was later used to describe Vauban's parallel lines of fortifi- cations up
and down the now consolidated national enclosure. In 1782, Charles de Fourcroy's tableau poliometrique
appeared. This "first known flowchart" is a diagram of the relative sizes of European metropoles, and in it, as geographer Gilles
Palsky notes, "We see the passage to abstract, to fictitious features. By these proportional
triangles, [de Fourcroy] constructs an image that does not return or relate to [the] original
existence."5 De Fourcroy's semiotic innovation was this figural territorialization, the drawing of the
comparative scale of cities as relative, primary geometric forms. This "map" does not
correspond to any direct representation of the geographic juxtaposition of the cities, but
rather graphs their relative quantitative difference in the population. This inscription produces
another virtual space with which to order the natural territory of the polis as a projected
image of an enclosed, admin- istrative totality. For Virilio, this also signals the production of
logistical space as a Modern administrative horizon. "This means the universe is redis-
tributed by the military engineers, the earth 'communicating' like a single glacis, as the
infrastructure of future battlefield," not one limited by given terrestrial geography (85). With the
French Army of Engineers being, assigned the task in 1790 of "expand[ing] the logistical glacis over the whole
territory," this era marked the birth of Modern administration-by-calculation, an on-going
project in which all of the vicissitudes of land and its inhabitants are con-tinuously charted,
symbolized, and manipulated. Virilio locates its emergence in the history of military geography, especially naval
techniques. "Total war is omnipresent; it is first waged on the sea because the naval glacis
naturally presents no permanent obstacle to vehicular movement of planetary dimensions,"
and the mobility of smooth maritime space would return to organize land in its logistical
image (73). Governance by speed (by states or otherwise) is logistics, and logistics, like the
oceanic vectors from which it is born, is omnidirectional.
Freedom of Movement
____ Freedom of movement is belied by the disciplining of the body through
networks that discipline the body of the traveler to increase efficiency.
Bonham 6 [Jennifer, The Editorial Board of the Sociological Review “Transport:
disciplining the body that travels” [KC]
Over the past century, the place of the automobile in the city has been challenged on a
number of grounds, most notably those of citizens’ rights, public safety, social justice and
urban aesthetics. The most recent challenge to the automobile centred on the environmental
impacts of different ‘modal choices’, in particular, the differential environmental effects of
bus, bicycle, or automobile travel. This debate quickly reached a stalemate. While environmentalists drew on a variety of statistics
to support the case for improvements in public transport services and cycling facilities, advocates of the automobile used other statistics to
demonstrate that, given the right roads, traffic flows, speed limits, engines and fuels, cars could be environmentally-friendly ‘green machines’. More
than a decade on, the use of automobiles in Australian cities, indeed in many cities, continues unabated. Thepersistent increase in
automobile usage is often explained by reference to technological progress, increases in
personal wealth and the considered choices of free individuals (eg, Adams, 1980; Donovan, 1996).
Alternatively, it has been explained in terms of the power of particular fractions of capital and
the shaping of individual choices by capitalist interests and liberal ideologies of self-interest (eg,
Franks, 1986; Hodge, 1990). The former explanation operates to naturalize contemporary practices of
mobility while the latter tends to position motorists as victims of automotive companies and
their technologies (Bonham, 2002: 19–24). This chapter locates the proliferation of automobile usage within a broader study of how urban
populations have been incited to think about and conduct their journeys. The approach I have taken draws on the insights of Michel Foucault’s
genealogical studies (Foucault, 1977; 1978) as it examines the micro techniques by which bodies have
been disciplined to the use of ‘public’ space and the practice of travel. Discipline, to
paraphrase Foucault, ‘. . . centres on the body as a machine, optimizing its capabilities,
increasing its usefulness and docility, integrating it into systems of efficient and economic
controls’ (Foucault, 1978: 139). The body of the traveller – motorist, pedestrian, child – is not a
‘natural’ body but a body worked upon through relations of power and knowledge to conduct
the journey in particular ways. It is argued in this chapter that disciplining the travelling body has been
essential to the government of urban mobility. Bodies have been disciplined to and
subsequently governed through two interrelated ways of thinking about mobility. First,
changes in travel technologies have been linked, both positively and negatively to freedom, as
individuals are able physically to remove themselves from their daily routines, everyday
responsibilities and immediate social networks (Kern, 1982: 111–4; Creswell, 1997). The second way of
thinking about travel is that of transport: movement from one point to another in order to
participate in the activities at the ‘trip destination’ (Schumer, 1955; Hensher, 1976; Allan et al., 1996). This
innovation, more significant than the train, tram or automobile, has made it possible to
objectify travel practices and create knowledge about the efficient completion of the journey.
The production of transport knowledge has involved separating out, classifying, and ordering
travel practices in relation to their efficiency. This ordering of travel establishes a hierarchy
which not only values some travel practices (rapid, direct, uninterrupted) and some travellers
(fast, orderly, singlepurpose) over others but also enables their prioritization in public space.
All trips, not just those to sites of production, consumption, and exchange, can be made
economically. The journey to a friend’s house, the beach, or the doctor (so called ‘social’ journeys) can be made with greater or lesser
economy. As transport experts (from engineers and transport modellers to sociologists, environmentalists, and feminists) deploy the logic of the
economical journey they are fundamentally implicated in the ordering of urban travel and the consequent prioritization of some travellers – specifically
motorists – over others. The conceptualization of urban travel as transport has rendered urban movement calculable while at the same time
ameliorating the dangers of too much freedom to move. Travel has been made manageable as it has been anchored
between an origin and destination. ‘Freedom of movement’ has been re-conceptualized
through traffic and transport discourses into ‘freedom to access destinations’. Thinking about
urban travel in terms of transport has made it possible to govern the movement of urban
populations, to maximize choice and to secure the economical operation of the urban
environment. The motor vehicle is centred in transport discourse as maximizing travel choice
while the motorist’s field of action can be structured toward the efficient conduct of the
journey.
Knowledge
____ The knowledge of the 1AC isn’t neutral – its used as a discursive form of
power used to monitor, identify, and discipline
Yates & Hiles 10 [Scott and Dave; DeMontfort University “Towards a “Critical
Ontology of Ourselves”? Foucault, Subjectivity, and Discourse Analysis” Theory
and Psychology Vol. 20 (1): 52-75 [KC]
Foucault termed his new approach “genealogy”: a “meticulous and patiently documentary”
analysis (Foucault, 1971/1987a), which introduced a central concern for practices and institutions to
the historical study of discourse. We will not expand upon the methodological assumptions
and imperatives of this approach, as they have been quite thoroughly covered by Hook (2005a). Foucault (1980),
initially at least, still sought to preserve a place for archaeology, arguing that archaeology could
provide an “analysis of local discursivities” (p. 85) alongside genealogy, which traces the
emergence, formation, and rejection of systems of knowledge, and their links to social
practices and institutions. A key aspect of genealogy is the interrogation of the ways in which
systems of knowledge that take human beings as their object are linked to forms of social
apparatus (dispositifs), comprising a “heterogeneous ensemble ... of discourses, institutions,
architectural forms, regulatory decisions, laws, administrative measures, scientific statements,
philosophical, moral and philanthropic propositions ” (Foucault, 1980, p. 194). This illustrates Foucault’s
emerging notion that systems of knowledge are inherently connected with power. This “power–
knowledge” nexus constitutes what is attended to, what is desirable to be done, how people
and objects are to be understood, related to, and acted upon. Thus, for example, the
knowledge that is gathered of human behaviour can be understood in terms of a norm or an
ideal of desirability. This makes possible power relations which centre on monitoring and
assessing a population, and identifying, disciplining, and correcting deviant individuals within
it. Similarly, a power whose aim is to normalize or discipline produces and utilizes systems of
knowledge which are useful in attaining this objective. There is a constant, reciprocal
articulation “of power on knowledge and of knowledge on power” (Foucault, 1989, p. 51). Power
produces more than knowledge and systems of social apparatus, however. It also “produces
the very form of the subject” (Foucault, 1989, p. 158). The individual is not a pre-given
phenomenological subject, an “elementary nucleus” (Foucault, 1980) onto which power fastens, or
some form of original sovereign will standing opposite its antithesis of a power that constrains
and limits it (Foucault, 1984/1988). It is, instead, “one of the prime effects of power that certain bodies,
certain gestures, certain discourses, certain desires, come to be identified and constituted as
individuals” (Foucault, 1980, p. 98). The individual subject does not stand face-to-face with power; it is already one of its effects
in terms of the identities to which it is tied and by which it understands itself, the positions from which it acts with respect to itself
and others (Foucault, 1982). Power “brings into play relations between individuals ... [it] designates relationships” (p. 217).
Peace
____ The transpolitical nation state operates through a disappearance and loss
of identification. The Aff preoccupation with guaranteeing peace turns warriors
into police and exterminates all potential threats. Subjects become the living
dead, forced into positions of zombification.
____ The aff necessitates a surveillance of mobility that disciples the subject
into a docile body and a tool of complete biopolitical control.
Bennett and Regan (Colin J., Department of Political Science, University of
Victoria, and Priscilla M., Department of Public & International Affairs, George
Mason University, “Editorial: Surveillance and Mobilities.,” Surveillance &
Society. Vol 1., No. 4)
As all surveillance analysts have taken note, over the course of the 20th century surveillance
systems have become
more ubiquitous to include ‘monitoring everyday life’ (Lyon, 2001). Workplaces, stores, schools,
hospitals are all physical spaces where monitoring occurs. The online world has not been immune to this
everyday surveillance as cookies, web-bugs and other technologies capture information on mouse-droppings and click-stream data.
One of the most damaging results of the monitoring of everyday life is the further blurring of the
boundaries between public and private, between personal and social borders. The surveillance of
mobilities defies the contextualization of life: the workplace, store and home are no longer
separate places in which one is surveilled but instead each becomes a point on the flow of
surveillance. And each of these points is connected to the others, providing a more completely textured rendition of one’s
everyday life. With the surveillance of mobilities there is potentially no ‘hiding’. There
is no room to anonymously
walk down a street, drive through a neighborhood, or talk on the phone. All these movements
and flows are subject to scrutiny, captured, stored, manipulated, and subsequently used for
purportedly benevolent or underhandedly sinister purposes. The objects we use (cars, phones,
computers, electricity) in turn become tools for surveillance. Actions, conversations, movements
are all caught. Movement is not a means of evading surveillance but has become the subject
of surveillance. What will be the consequences of the lack of possibility for unmonitored movement? Might we all just
stop? Will we become frozen in catatonic poses as we realize there is no place to hide? These
questions are interestingly addressed in Fotel and Thomsen’s analysis of the surveillance of children where there is now “adult
orchestration of their mobility” (539), in Curry’s examination of systems to identify the treacherous traveler, and in Sweeny’s
devil1.0. The history of surveillance systems would indicate that the most likely consequence of the surveillance of
mobilities will be yet more rationalization and control (Giddens, 1985; Beniger, 1986). Gary Marx offers a
redefinition of surveillance to take into account the fact that surveillance is no longer focused on suspected
persons but is “also applied to contexts (geographical places and spaces, particular time periods,
networks, systems and categories of persons) (2002: 10). Such surveillance is more intensive and
extensive allowing for finer gradations of what is considered appropriate or deviant . As Peter Adey
points out in his article in this issue “particular movements are inscribed with meanings of what is an
allowed movement and what is considered suspicious and deviant” (508). And this may lead to more places, such
as airports airplanes, being considered ‘off-limits’ for people exhibiting these movements. As with other forms of
surveillance, the surveillance of mobilities may result in more selfmonitoring as there is an
increased awareness that one is under constant, continual and continuous scrutiny. Even if the
surveillance is designed not to control but to care and secure, the awareness that one is under
scrutiny, or that one might potentially be under scrutiny, can change behaviors in unintended ways. The
potential for this having negative unintended consequences is perhaps most apparent in the education setting and with the
monitoring of children’s movements. At the same time, and as is true with other surveillance systems, there may be increased
temptations to, as well as opportunities for, gaming or confronting the surveillance. As Sweeny notes with the Surveillance Camera
Players: I consciously acknowledge the presence of the camera, altering my behavior accordingly: nervously gawking at the camera,
hiding my face, or flipping the bird. Through this performance, I temporarily deflect the gaze of the camera through my embodied
practices. (530) And as
surveillance systems collect more information, this leads to more detailed
categorization of individuals and then to judgments based on those categorizations, leaving
the concept of a unique individual in the dustbin of history . But as Curry suggests, the use of
information based on the surveillance of mobilities will lead to collection of ever more
information because the judgments that can be made based on place (who belongs in a jetliner, who belongs in this
educational space, who drives their car along this highway) are more straightforward than those based on movements. Such
information may not necessarily be ‘identifiable’. Extrapolations of behavior can be made by knowing the types of people who
engage in certain behaviors in certain places at certain times. Our discourses, and our regulatory responses, are still dependent upon
outmoded distinctions between what is and is not ‘personal data’, as Green and Smith demonstrate. Nevertheless, the surveillance
of mobilities requires more detailed data mining to construct narratives of a person’s activity, “What is he really doing? Is he a
mentally deranged person, desperate to escape his troubles by escaping the country? Is he a criminal…Is he a Cuban émigré, now
homesick? Or is he simply a somewhat frazzled businessman?” (485) But surveillance of mobilities assumes that more information
and more finely tuned categorization of that information can answer such questions. As Arvidsson points out: The
extraction
of surplus value in information capitalism entails the transformation of ‘productive life’ into
‘dead values’, like brands or ‘content’. This is the main function of the ubiquitous surveillance of the panoptic sort.
But this ‘branding of life’ also tends to lead to its automation. Branded life is programmed life (468).
____ The State’s obsession with speed and efficiency produces monumental
accidents that threaten our survival.
Virilio 05 (Paul, Paul Virilio (b. 1932 in Paris) philosopher. Information Bomb pg.
36-37)
'The war years do not seem like real years .... They were¶ a nightmare in which reality stopped,' wrote Agatha¶ Christie not so very
long ago. 1¶ Today,
one feels it no longer takes a war to kill the reality of the world. Crashes,
derailments, explosions, destruction, pollution, the greenhouse effect, acid rain ... Minamata,
Chernobyl, Seveso, etc. In those days of deterrence we eventually got¶ used, after a fashion, to our new nightmare and,
thanks¶ among other things to live TV, the long death throes of the¶ planet assumed the familiar guise of one series of scoops¶
among others. Thus, having reached a high degree of’ scientific stupor, we simply contented
ourselves with ticking off the events, with enumerating the unfortunate victims of our
scientific reverses, our technical and industrial mistakes , But we had seen nothing yet, and
where the de-realization of the physical world was concerned, we were soon going to pass on
to the next stage. Up till then we had in fact stubbornly refused to concern ourselves with the
unparalleled scope of the more perverse harm and more personal troubles caused , not by the
spectacular failures of¶ our technical innovations, but by their very performances, their record-breaking
feats - the tremendous technological victories won in this critical period in the fields of
communications and representation. It has been claimed that psychoanalysis does not resolve¶ problems, but merely
displaces them . . . We might say the¶ same of technical and industrial progress.¶ Even as our famous 'Gutenberg galaxy' was
claiming to¶ put reading within everyone's grasp, the reader will note¶ that, at the same time, it mass-produced populations of¶
detif-mutes.¶ Industrial typography, by spreading the habit of solitary ¶ - and hence silent - reading, was gradually to deprive¶ the
peoples of that use of speech and hearing which had¶ previously been involved in the (public, polyphonic) reading ¶ aloud made
necessary by the relative scarcity of¶ manuscripts.¶ Thus printing forced a degree of impoverishment upon ¶ language, which lost not
only its sodal relief (primordial¶ eloquence), but also its spatial relief (its emphases, its¶ prosody). This was a popular poetics which
was not long in¶ withering away, then dying, literally for want of breath,¶ before lapsing into academicism and the unambiguous
language¶ of all propaganda, of all advertising.
____ War is the laboratory of the future where states experiment with new
ideological coordinates. As such, accidents and massive destruction are
necessary consequences of state sponsored speed.
Virilio ’01 [cultural theorist and urbanist] Virilio Live pg. 72 edited by John
Armitage
Yes, insofar as warhas always been the laboratory of the future. Because of the necessity to
survive, and to face the possibility of sudden death, be it in ancient or new societies, war has
always been the laboratory of techniques, of mores. I really believe this, and we must not forget it. War has
also been the laboratory of speed. When Sun Tzu, the old Chinese strategist of several
centuries ago, said that ‘promptitude is the essence of war’, he said it at the time of the
cavalry. Now it is obvious that this saying is still true: witness the debate over euromissiles in Europe just a year ago. So, war is
in fact the laboratory of modernity, of all modernities . And it is in this sense that it has been a subject of
permanent study for me. It is also because I myself have experienced it. I lived through a war in my childhood, and it affected me
deeply. Thus, war is not merely an amoral phenomenon, it is an experimental phenomenon
inasmuch as it reverses productivity relations. War produces accidents. It produces an
unheard-of accident, which is ,upsetting the traditional idea of war. Substance is necessary and accident
is contingent and relative! That is the traditional story of the return to the accident. In war time the opposite is true.
Here accident is necessary and substance relative and contingent. What are war machines?
They are machines in reverse - they produce accidents, disappearances, deaths, breakdowns. I
think war in this sense conveys something which at present we are experiencing in peacetime;
the accident has now become something ordinary.
Biopower = Racism
____ The emergence of biopolitics was co-constitutive with racism. The K
accesses their impacts better.
Radovanović 12 [Olivera, University of Masaryk, Department of Sociology PhD
“Society as a Garden: Justification and Operationalization of Foucaldian “Right
to Kill” in the Contemporary World”
(http://is.muni.cz/th/236868/fss_m/Ma_Thesis_Olivera_Radovanovic.pdf) KC]
What this means is that, instead of war being the continuation of politics by different means,
Clausewitz’s aphorism should be inverted: it is rather the politics that is the continuation of war by
different means. There is always a war beneath peace, Foucault argues (Ibid.: 51), because the
state is now allied with its population against the threat constituted as everything that
differentiates from the biological norms postulated in that society. (Reid 2008a: 36) Reid argues that “an
era of biopolitical wars ensues in which populations are constituted via their orientation
around racialised norms, enemies are distinguished by their racial differentiation from the
norm and wars are waged in which populations are mobilized in defense of racial norms
against rival populations defined by a perception of racial abnormality .” (2008a: 34) It is crucial to note
here that “race” itself is not pinned to a stable biological skincolour-like meaning. (Foucault 2003a: 77) Originally, the concept
of race was simply the matter of two peoples who do not share the same language or religion,
but are related by a history of violence and wars. The social body is therefore constituted of
single-race which is according to certain virtues split into a super-race and a sub-race. (Ibid.: 60,
61). The modern state occupied this original discourse of “race war” and inverted it to its own
ends. It becomes a discourse of battle between the race that is entitled to establish the norm
and those, who deviate from that norm, who present the threat to the biological heritage . (Reid
2008a: 30) The (racialised) norm therefore represents the way of life in all its multiplicity desired
in a concrete society, whereas the object which departs that setting automatically threatens
to damage the biology, i.e. the existence of that way of life. “Society must be defended”
therefore means that, in addition to self- activism to develop its vitality and maintain
“normality”, the state is obligated to defend its society against the portion of those who
diverge from the standard. And here we find the appearance of state racism which will, according to
the logic from the previous quote, turn society against itself, against its own elements and its own products. We speak here about
the internal racism of social normalization. (Foucault 2003a: 62) A
shift from law to norm occurs, as well as a
shift from races in the plural to race in the singular and the idea of racial struggle into the one
of race purity. (Ibid.: 81) In that respect, Foucault sees racism as “primarily a way of introducing break
into the domain of life that is under power’s control, the break between what must live and
what must die. […] It is a way of separating out the groups that exist within a population.” (Ibid.:
254, 255) Putting the life of species as the target object of security practices of state power allows selecting any form of life
perceived to grow degenerative effects within the field of population. (Reid 2008a: 37) Dillon even suggests that the
concept of
race directly contributes to the triangulation of biopolitics with its “necropolitics”, which
“helps strip biopolitics of any assumed innocence in respect of its project of making life live.”
(2008: 170) This “necropolitics” or war against “enemies” is not necessarily a confrontation in a
military way, but also a form of quiet extermination, carried out by ongoing installation of
regulatory techniques. However, war in its real (military) sense of words for causes as such is
not excluded either. (Reid 2008a: 37, 38) Foucault in sum suggests that social body has been
involved in the struggle on regular historical bases. The expectation that things could have
changed once the lifeprone biopower replaced the death-prone prince proved groundless.
Wars and bloodshed have actually never vanished - they sustained, but only changed the
rhetoric of their causes. Once it was the fight on behalf of sovereign life and territory, now it is
population’s life and vitality that are at stake.
Cities
____ Speed saturates immediacy, which cause destruction to urban landscapes.
Virilio and Lotringer 83 (Paul and Sylver, Paul Virilio philosopher, Sylvère
Lotringer, Ph.D. Professor Emeritus of French literature and philosophy at
Columbia University., Pure War, pg. 44-45).
The technological race has caused the city to disappear. --The city was the means of mapping out a political
space that existed in a given political duration. Now speed-ubiquitous instantaneousness-
dissolves the city, or rather displaces it. And displaces it, I would say, in time. We have entered
another kind of capital which corresponds to another kind of population. We no longer populate stationeries (cities as
great parking lots and populations), we populate the time spent changing place, travel time. What we are
noticing on the level of urban planning has already been noticed on the level of specific neighborhoods, and individuals, even of
being at the mercy of phone calls. There
is a kind of destruction caused by saturating immediacy, which
is linked to speed. So it seems to me that the danger of nuclear power should be seen less in
the perspective of the destruction of populations than of the destruction of societal
temporality.
____ Forms of resistance are immensely viable in the areas of discourse and
social understandings.
McCormack, Department of Sociology at Wellesley College, ’04 [Karen,
“Resisting the Welfare Mother”, Critical Sociology 30(2), Spring 2004, Pages
374-375]
Possibilities for Resistance A
society is thus composed of certain foregrounded practices organizing its
normative institutions and of innumerable other practices that remain ‘minor,’ always there
but not organizing discourse and preserving the beginnings or remains of different
(institutional, scientific) hypotheses for that society or for others . (de Certeau 1984:48) The remains of
different hypotheses can be heard in the meanings attributed to welfare by many of the recipients, whose understandings of the
administration of social services to the poor contain within them a challenge to the universality of the dominant construction. To
a
certain extent, strategies that accommodate the dominant discourse, that reinforce the
common sense understanding of welfare receipt, also resist by challenging the application of
such an understanding to themselves. All of the women that I interviewed rejected some part
of the welfare mother discourse. For some women, this was an active process of separating
themselves from the putative welfare mother while discursively reinforcing her existence,
while for others resistance took the form of direct discursive challenge to the underlying
assumptions about poverty and value that bolster the ideology . Scott (1985, 1990) uses the phrases
“everyday forms of resistance” and “hidden transcripts” to describe those discursive practices that resist dominant constructions.
Everyday forms of resistance are those mundane practices that occur as recipients participate
in their daily lives, challenging in an unorganized and often invisible way the meanings that
render them powerless objects. None of the women interviewed belonged to any type of
welfare rights organizations, and while they may have discussed their rights with lawyers at
legal aid offices or their teachers at various educational sites, they weren’t involved in any
organized effort to change the policies or meanings of welfare. The types of resistance in
which they were engaged were all a part of their everyday lives. As one recipient put it, they
are ‘just livin’ life.’ Engagement with the dominant discourse may in fact make possible these
“reverse” discursive forms. Foucault (1990:101-102) writes that: There is not, on the one side,
a discourse of power, and opposite it, another discourse that runs counter to it. Discourses are
tactical elements or blocks operating in the field of force relations; there can be different and
even contradictory discourses within the same strategy. . . By recognizing the category of the
welfare recipient or welfare mother, by naming poverty and deservingness, these women are
also able to construct their response and, sometimes, their resistance to these categories. The
forms of their resistance are not arbitrary but are patterned clearly by the level of stigma and
surveillance that they experience.
___ Dominant discourses and social understandings influence not only the
typical understanding of transport but also the recipients’ understanding of
themselves. However, the fluidity and superficiality of discourses leaves perfect
room for resistance against power.
McCormack, Department of Sociology at Wellesley College, 2004 [Karen,
“Resisting the Welfare Mother”, Critical Sociology 30(2), Spring 2004, Pages
357-360]
The three people quoted above, one a former President of the United States, the second a caseworker at the Department of Social
Services, and the last a woman receiving welfare represent surprisingly consistent understandings of welfare. Each
of these
quotes suggests an understanding of welfare recipients as manipulative and undeserving, as a
particular type of person, one who is less honest, less hardworking than the rest of us . While
these three individuals do not share a singular, consistent understanding of welfare , these quotes display some
commonality that exists despite their different social locations, revealing a “common sense”
understanding of welfare that had solidified by the mid-1990s . In this paper, I explore the complex and
contradictory operations of this welfare discourse for women receiving public assistance. Foucault (1978:101) rightly turns our
attention to the complexity of discourse as a powerful, material force, when he writes that: We
must make allowances
for the complex and unstable processes whereby discourse can be both an instrument and an
effect of power, but also a hindrance, a stumbling-block, a point of resistance and a starting
point for an opposing strategy. Discourse transmits and produces power; it reinforces it, but
also undermines and exposes it, renders it fragile and makes it possible to thwart it . 3 In the
quotes above, we see the reinforcement and transmission of power, but in the words of women
receiving assistance, alongside the transmission of power we can glimpse its resistance . The
discursive practices surrounding welfare and its recipients are part of “the moral economy,” 4
a particular understanding of the relationship between morality and wealth . Simply stated, the
moral economy of wealth involves the discursive production and circulation of symbolic
representations of wealth that serve to invest the behavior of the wealthy with a certain
moral identity . . . through the moral economy of wealth, financial wealth is transformed into
moral worth, and socalled redundant or excess resources are accounted for as signs of the
bountiful surplus moral value and virtue of the wealthy . (Herman 1999:7) The Protestant ethic of
hard work and ascetic living, coupled with the widely accepted achievement ideology (of a fair
and just meritocracy), celebrate the achievements of the wealthy while deriding the
shiftlessness of the poor (cf. Weber 1930, MacLeod 1997). This specifically American equation of
morality and wealth provides for little acknowledgement of structural determinants of
opportunity and economic well being, relying instead upon explanations for economic success
or failure located clearly with the efforts and abilities of the individual . Programs to aid the
poor in the U.S. have historically accepted the values of this moral economy by attempting to
separate the deserving poor from the undeserving. The content of these categories has changed over time,
though the assumption remains that poverty represents a failing of the individual except in unusual circumstance (which have varied
historically from disability, death of a spouse, etc.). With large numbers of women with children moving into the workforce in the
1980s, the decline of married-couple households, and the increasing number of African American women receiving assistance
(following the Civil Rights Movement), poor single mothers joined the “undeserving” category in what
can only be understood as a backlash against feminist and civil rights gains (cf. Quadagno 1996; Sidel
1996; Fraser and Gordon 1994). Within this moral economy, particular discursive practices frame the welfare
mother as undeserving, lazy, dependent, irresponsible, oversexed; she came to be seen as
responsible for her own fate and marked as an outsider . That this image represents the real character of poor
women receiving assistance becomes taken for granted, apparently needing no substantive evidence. Ronald Reagan was
instrumental in constructing the image of the Welfare Queen, the penultimate abuser of a
system designed to help the poor. The welfare queen lied and cheated to take money from
the state while she lived well, drove expensive cars, and owned a nice home. While the
welfare queen in Reagan’s speech quoted above was shown to be a fabrication, 5 the image of
the welfare queen lived on, long past Reagan’s presidency. The flip side of the welfare queen in this moral economy is the
wealthy entrepreneur and philanthropist. Herman proposes that the “. . .moral economy provides these men with the basic
discursive categories, linguistic repertoires, and vocabularies of motive with which they give rhetorical shape to their self-identity.”
The moral economy, particularly the specific dominant discourse about welfare constructs these categories for women receiving
assistance as well. The particular discursive practices surrounding welfare are stigmatizing to women receiving assistance. That is,
they mark these women as less deserving, more dangerous, less human than the “rest of us.” That women receiving welfare
payments echo the judgments made against them (in particular ways to be discussed below) speaks to the power of discourse.
Governmental assistance does not provide enough money for families to get by, nor does the minimum wage provide enough to
support families. Edin and Lein (1997) have demonstrated the relative costs of work vis-à-vis public assistance for poor women with
children, showing clearly that neither provides enough and that low-wage work leaves women worse off than welfare. Women
on welfare understand this reality; they see the shortage of jobs, the impossibility of survival
on a low-wage job while attempting to pay for rent and childcare. And yet even they often
echo the sentiments about the lazy, manipulative welfare mother . By naming welfare mothers
as others – ¶ dependent, immoral, and irresponsible – the dominant discourse allows for little
positive identification as persons receiving assistance. Previous examinations of stigma among welfare
recipients suggest that negative effects of the moralizing discourse are pervasive. Kingfisher (1996:33) writes that the experience of
stigma was so pervasive among her sample that “all recipients who participated in [her] study were aware of the stigma associated
with being on welfare and felt compelled to address it in one way or another.” Yet what I found in interviewing
women receiving welfare was not a monolithic “welfare discourse” or “welfare stigma,” a
clear field within which women lived, but rather a more varied materialization of these
dominant practices that was dependent upon the communities in which they lived . For women
residing in mixed-class communities, interacting with the working poor, working and middle classes, Kingfisher’s assessment rang
true. These women were palpably aware of the dominant imagery and took steps to distance themselves from the putative welfare
mother. On the other hand, women
living in the inner city, surrounded by other poor people,
appeared to be partially immune from the pernicious associations with the welfare mother.
While they were not wholly unaware of the dominant practices, they were also operating
upon a different field, one in which poverty and welfare receipt were understood quite
differently. The meanings of welfare produced by the recipients themselves can run counter
to the dominant construction. Dodson’s (1999:189) exploration of the lives of poor women and girls
suggests that many alternative strategies exist in the margins, that women construct a range
of responses to dominant constructions, ways that they “. . .tried to make sense of their place
in the world and to hold on to themselves.”
Micropolitical Resistance Alt
____ Micropolitical challenges can disrupt the whole system of domination—
macropolitical structures must be constantly reproduced at the finest grains of
the social body
Kulynych, Assistant Professor of Political Science at Winthrop University, 1997
[Jessica J., “Performing Politics: Foucault, Habermas, and Postmodern
Participation,” Polity (30.2), p, 37]
Participation as resistance compels us to expand the category of political participation . Whereas
traditional studies of participation delimit political participation from other "social" activities, once participation is defined as
resistance this distinction is no longer tenable. Bonnie Honig suggests that performative action isan event, an agonistic disruption of
the ordinary sequence of things, a site of resistance of the irresistible, a challenge to the normalizing rules that seek to constitute,
govern, and control various behaviors. And, [thus,] we might be in a position to identify sites of political action in a much broader
array of constations, ranging from the self-evident truths of God, nature, technology and capital to those of identity, of gender, race
and ethnicity. We might then be in a position to act-in the private realm." ¶ A performative concept of participation as resistance
explodes the distinction between public and private, between the political and the apolitical. As Foucault explains, what
was
formerly considered apolitical, or social rather than political, is revealed as the foundation of
technologies of state control. Contests over identity and everyday social life are not merely
additions to the realm of the political, but actually create the very character of those things
traditionally considered political. The state itself is "superstructural in relation to a whole
series of power networks that invest the body, sexuality, the family, kinship, knowledge,
technology and so forth."72 Thus it is contestations at the micro-level, over the intricacies of
everyday life, that provide the raw material for global domination, and the key to disrupting
global strategies of domination. Therefore, the location of political participation extends way beyond the formal
apparatus of government, or the formal organization of the workplace, to the intimacy of daily actions and iterations. ¶ A
performative understanding of political participation demands recognition of a broader array of actors and actions as well.
Performative participation is manifest in any activity that resists the technological and
bureaucratic construction of privatized client-citizens, or reveals the contingency of
contemporary identities. Political action, understood in this sense, does not have to be intentional,
rational, and planned; it may be accidental, impulsive, and spontaneous. It is the disruptive potential , the
surprising effect, rather than the intent of an action that determines its status as participation . Consequently,
studies of participation must concern themselves not just with those activities we intentionally take part in and easily recognize as
political participation, but also with those accidental, unplanned, and often unrecognized instances of political participation. If
resistance is a matter of bringing back into view things that have become self-evident, then we must be prepared to recognize that
consciousness of the contingency of norms and identities is an achievement that happens through action and not prior to action.
Performative participation is manifest in any action, conscious or unconscious, spontaneous or organized, that resists the
normalizing, regularizing, and subjectifying confines of contemporary disciplinary regimes.¶ Such a concept of political
participation allows us to see action where it was previously invisible. So where Gaventa, in his famous study of
Appalachian miners, sees quiescence in "anger [that is] poignantly expressed about the loss of homeplace, the contamination of
streams, the drain of wealth, or the destruction from the strip mining all around ... [but is only] individually expressed and shows
little apparent translation into organized protest or collective action,"" a
concept of performative resistance sees
tactics and strategies that resist not only the global strategies of economic domination, but
also the construction of apathetic, quiescent citizens . When power is such that it can create
quiescence, then the definition of political participation must include those forms of political
action that disrupt and counter quiescence . A concept of political participation that recognizes participation in
sporadically expressed grievances, and an "adherence to traditional values" by citizens faced with the "penetration of dominant
social values," is capable of seeing not only how power precludes action but also how power relationships are "not altogether
successful in shaping universal acquiescence." "
Freedom Alt
____ Voting negative is an affirmation of freedom—You should use your ballot
as a signal of individual revolt, not for abstract collective decisionmaking. This
form of freedom is a priori and is neccesary to create widespread resistance to
domination
Prozorov, 2007, Collegium Research Fellow, Helsinki Collegium for Advanced
Studies, University of Helsinki, Finland, [Sergei, Foucault, Freedom and
Sovereignty, p . 9-12]
Moreover, it
is precisely the divorce of freedom from the discourse of the perfect order that
renders freedom a political concept par excellence. Our focus on political freedom in this book is the very
opposite of a reduction of freedom to the circumscribed domain of politics, be it defined in terms of the state, community, ideology
or institutions. On the contrary, what
renders freedom political is its a priori antagonistic nature with
regard to every positive form of order. Never content with its confinement to the private realm, freedom always
engages with order in its totality, transcending its internal demarcation of the public and the private. If we approach 'the political' as
a name for the problem of constitution of order in the absence of first principles (i.e. as a constitutive act of power that has no
ground beyond itself), then freedom serves as a counterpart, or in Derridean terms, a supplement of the
political, insofar as it consists in the de constructive engagement with order that disrupts the
hold of its foundational principles on the lives of the subjects governed by it . Moreover, as we shall
discuss in detail in Part 2, such practices of freedom are intricately linked to the elementary act of the
foundation of order, being nothing more than a subversive repetition, by individuals captured
within a political order, of the sovereign act of the foundation of the latter . In terms of this parallel,
political freedom refers to the problem of the constitution of the subject in the absence of any
first principles that would govern this constitution . Simply put, political freedom consists in the
confrontation with any circumscribed domain of politics in the name for the potentialities of
existence that are curtailed by it. By the same token, we might speak of artistic freedom in terms of confrontation with
the regime of 'what counts for art' or of sexual freedom as confronting the existing conventions regulating sexual behaviour. In this
sense, when divorced from the normative question of the perfect order, freedom becomes
political by contesting whatever counts for politics in any given situation. It would thus be
entirely wrong to suggest that freedom is anti-political- on the contrary, what practices of
freedom do is liberate the political from its confinement within sedimented and stratified
forms of order that are in a strict sense made possible by a fundamental depoliticisation (see
Ranciere 2001; Prozorov 2005). ¶ If freedom is political in this sense, then it must logically precede any positive
order of politics, which invites the question of its ontological status in relation to this positivity. This book will deal with this
question extensively in an attempt to elaborate a Foucauldian ontology of freedom that posits freedom as both anterior and exterior
to any form of positive order, functioning as its singularly paradoxical 'slippery foundation' that simultaneously makes possible both
its establishment and its transgression. The task of this book is to liberate a concrete experience of freedom from the weight of
abductive governmental projects through an engagement with Foucault's philosophy that asserts, pace innumerable critics, that
Foucault's critical project unfolds on the basis of a certain ontology of freedom and is therefore affirmative (though in an
idiosyncratic way) rather than purely negative or even nihilist (Fraser 1995; Walzer 1986). ¶ Moreover, reconceptualising
freedom as an ontological condition of human being rather than as an attribute of social order
will introduce into a discourse on freedom a certain kind of universalism that is absent in both ideological and
multiculturalist accounts, for which freedom is only meaningful as an internal attribute of a certain particularistic order. To speak of
universalism in relation to Foucault's thought is certainly controversial, given the prevalent reading of Foucault as a radical pluralist
in both synchronic and diachronic aspects, emphasising the irreducible particularism of all forms of power, knowledge and ethics.
However, the universalism we shall affirm is a necessary consequence ofthinking freedom onto logically as a potentiality for being
otherwise that is inherent in and available to all human beings. This element of universality should be distinguished from any
distinction between individualism and communitarianism. Countless critics have charged Foucault with opting for a hyperbolically
individualistic mode of practicing freedom that aesthetises one's own existence (Wolin 1994; Habermas 1985). While these charges
have been convincingly dismissed by pointing both to textual evidence and Foucault's own political and social commitments
(Bennett 1996; Simons 1995), the
answer to the question of whether a Foucauldian freedom is a solely
individual experience or lends itself to collective action requires the displacement of the very
opposition between the collective and the individual. ¶ It is certainly true that no collective
'project' could ever be inferred from a Foucauldian ontological affirmation of freedom , both
because it opposes the reduction of existence to a normative project and because it must logically presuppose taking exception from
any such project as the very substance offreedom. At the same time, Foucault's standpoint recalls Albert
Camus's understanding of revolt as an individual affirmation of common existence: 'I revolt,
therefore we are' (Camus 2006, part 1). For Camus, the act of revolt actualises the universal solidarity
of human beings by manifesting, beyond the limits that it transgresses, the infinite
possibilities of freedom that do not depend on one's particular identities, attributes or
circumstances. In his discussion of the Iranian revolution of 1979, Foucault appears to echo Camus in asserting that revolt,
although always arising out of particular circumstances of subjection or oppression, affirms
nothing particular but rather the possibility available to us all: 'It is through revolt that
subjectivity (not that of great men but of whomever) introduces itself into history and gives it the breath
of life.' (Foucault cited in Bernauer 1990, 180) As a potentiality, freedom is not only available to all
without any possibility for discrimination, but it is also available to all equally: in asserting
one's freedom one is always already wholly free, irrespectively of the positive degree of
autonomy that one thereby achieves. In such a sense, a practice of freedom functions as an
affirmation of human universality and is therefore unthinkable in terms of a narcissistic
individualism. ¶ This is not to say that freedom cannot be abused by its deployment against the freedom of the other. Indeed,
the possibility of abuse or perversion is inherent in the very notion of freedom as radically
heterogeneous to any form of normative prescription. To be worthy of the name, freedom
must necessarily presuppose the permanent risk of its own abrogation or, in Derrida's terms, of a
'radical evil' that would destroy freedom from within: '[w]ithout the possibility of radical evil, of perjury, and of absolute crime, there
is no responsibility, no freedom, no decision.' (Derrida 1996,219) We must therefore accept the infinite risk of
freedom: if freedom is not to be viewed as an epiphenomenon of a particular order, we must presuppose the ever-present
possibility of its abuse. 'Freedom is freedom for both good and evil.' (Agamben 1999, 183) Thus, a discourse on freedom
must refuse the conventional blackmail gesture, whereby an act that most of us would
consider outright evil is demonstrated to be manifestly free so that a moralising critic could
ceaselessly pontificate about the inappropriateness of 'that sort of freedom'. This blackmail is
ironically less widespread in the domain of empirical politics than in political theory: the
formal freedoms of contemporary liberal-democratic societies surely allow for infinite abuse
that can never be adequately insured against other than through the _ installation of a
dystopian police state. Yet, none of this appears to disqualify these actually existing freedoms
on the grounds of the absence of adequate insurance against abuse - a charge regularly levelled against
Foucault (Rorty 1992; Walzer 1986; Wolin 1994). Freedom in the sense of potentiality for being otherwise is
an ontological condition of possibility of practices, whose effects are entirely contingent and
may well consist in abrogating their own conditions of possibility in e.g. the assumption of 'voluntary
servitude' or the negation of the freedom of the Other. However, taking this risk of infinite abuse is essential to
any concept of freedom worthy of name, since the only alternative would be a restrictive
specification of freedom in positive terms that would return us to the normative discourse on
the perfect order. The abuse of freedom cannot be insured against precisely because of its universality that proscribes any
endowment of freedom with rational or moral foundations and positive identitarian predicates. 'In the end, there is no
explanation for the man who revolts. His action is necessarily a tearing that breaks the thread
of history and its long chains of reasons.' (Foucault cited in Bernauer 1990, 175)
____ Freedom only exists in an immanent relation to life—the only way to
produce freedom against domination is in constant self-constitution
Prozorov, 2007, Collegium Research Fellow, Helsinki Collegium for Advanced
Studies, University of Helsinki, Finland, [Sergei, Foucault, Freedom and
Sovereignty, p34-35]
Yet, what is it that refuses, resists and twists loose, if not the anterior subject whom,
according to Foucault's critics, Foucault must presuppose to make his discourse on freedom
meaningful? It is crucial to emphasise that to posit the subject of resistance is not to endow it
with any pre-political authentic identity. According to Nikolas Rose, resistance is rather located in the
gap between one's actual existence and the positivity of identity that specifies it in discourse:
'human being - like all else - exceeds all attempts to think it .' (Rose 1 996b, 35----Q) Similarly, in Paul Patton's
argument (1995, 359), Foucault needs only a minimal or, in our terms, austere ontology of human being as a 'material to which
techniques [of subjectification] are applied and which resists [this application]'. The
ontological precondition of
freedom is not an anterior subjectivity but a sheer capacity to act, be acted upon and resist
force. As we shall argue in detail below, a Foucauldian subject resists solely as a living being.
'It is not a question of advocating such resistance, of praising autonomy or blaming
domination as respective exemplars of a good and evil for all, but simply of understanding
why such resistance does occur. Foucault does not think that resistance to forms of
domination requires justification. To the extent that it occurs, such resistance follows from the
nature of particular human beings. It is an effect of human freedom .' (Patton 1998, 73. See also Patton
2000; Connolly 1998; Oksala 2005) The vitalist overtones of this understanding of freedom have been elaborated in Gilles Deleuze's
reconstruction of Foucault's concept ofbiopower: ¶ Life becomes resistance to power when power takes life as its object. [ ... ] When
power becomes biopower, resistance becomes the power of life, a vital power that cannot be contained within the paths of a
particular diagram. Is not the force that comes from outside a certain idea of Life, a certain vitalism, in which Foucault's thought
culminates? Is not life the capacity to resist force? [ ... ] There is no telling what man might achieve 'as a living being', as a set
offorces that resist. (Deleuze 1988,92-3) ¶ Although this notion of life as an ontological precondition of freedom appears to betray a
residual naturalism in Foucault's otherwise strongly anti-essentialist approach, it is necessary to note the nuances in this conception
of freedom. While Foucault (1990a, 157) has occasionally affirmed the apparently natural 'bodies and pleasures' as the locus of
'genuine' practices of freedom in opposition to the discourse of sexual liberation, it would be erroneous to conclude that this
affirmation reintroduces the principle of originary authenticity with regard to some prediscursive primal matter (cf. Horowitz 1995;
Oksala 2005, chapter 5). The
subject of resistance for Foucault is not an anterior vital force that
resists but that which emerges in the act of resistance to diagrammatic enfolding. Freedom
therefore does not consist in letting the primal forces of life be but in their confrontation with
that which threatens to enclose them within a discursive domain of positivity. Resistance is
therefore not protective but rather constitutive of freedom as 'something one has and does
not have, something one wants, something one conquers' (Nietzsche 1977, 271). For this reason, freedom
can never be a foundation of any social order, since it exists and manifests itself solely in acts
of resistance to the 'self-constituting practices' that this order prescribes and can never be 'a
state-of-being within a society that would accord with our moral nature, noumenal or social-
historical' (Rajchman 1994a, 193). Yet, on the other hand, freedom can never exist apart from the
social order, since it is only activated in the practice of resistance to and the transgression of
the identity constituted by the diagram. We may therefore sum up the third response to the question of freedom in
Foucault's work as the advancement of the notion of concrete freedom, which involves the diagram without being reducible to its
operations and is extra-diagrammatic not because it precedes the diagram but because it confronts it. To paraphrase Foucault, we
may term this attitude to freedom 'unhappy positivism', a sense of disappointment in and dissatisfaction with any positive
diagrammatic constitution of freedom that animates permanent resistance to governmental modes j of subjectification.
Local Knowledge Alt
____ Only the alternative, in challenging the most obvious fringes of power
exertion, can overcome the oppression of the state apparatus
Foucault, professor at the college of france, 1980 [Power/Knowledge: Selected
Interviews & Other Writings, pg. 96-99]
The problem for me is how to avoid this question, central to the theme of right, regarding sovereignty and the obedience of
individual subjects in order that I may substitute the problem of domination and subjugation for that of sovereignty and obedience.
Given that this was to be the general line of my analysis, there were a certain number of methodological precautions that seemed
requisite to its pursuit. In the very first place, it seemed important to accept that the
analysis in question should not
concern itself with the regulated and legitimate forms of power in their central locations, with
the general mechanisms through which they operate, and the continual effects of these. On
the contrary, it should be concerned with power at its extremities, in its ultimate destinations,
with those points where it becomes capillary, that is, in its more regional and local forms and
institutions. Its paramount concern, in fact, should be with the point where power surmounts
the rules of right which organise and delimit it and extends itself beyond them, invests itself in
institutions, becomes embodied in techniques, and equips itself with instruments and
eventually even violent means of material intervention. To give an example: rather than try to discover where
and how the right of punishment is founded on sovereignty, how it is presented in the theory of monarchical right or in that of
democratic right, I have tried to see in what ways punishment and the power of punishment are effectively embodied in a certain
number of local, regional, material institutions, which are concerned with torture or imprisonment, and to place these in the
climate- at once institutional and physical, regulated and violent - of the effective apparatuses of punishment. In other words, one
should try to locate power at the extreme points of its exercise, where it is always less legal in character. A second methodological
precaution urged that the analysis should not concern itself with power at the level of conscious
intention or decision; that it should not attempt to consider power from its internal point of view and that it should refrain
from posing the labyrinthine and unanswerable question: 'Who then has power and what has he in mind? What is the aim of
someone who possesses power?' Instead,
it is a case of studying power at the point where its intention, if
it has one, is completely invested in its real and effective practices. What is needed is a study
of power in its external visage, at the point where it is in direct and immediate relationship
with that which we can provisionally call its object , its target, its field of application, there- that is to say-where
it installs itself and produces its real effects. Let us not, therefore, ask why certain people want to dominate, what they seek, what is
their overall strategy. Let us ask, instead, how things work at the level of on-going subjugation, at the' level of those continuous and
uninterrupted processes which subject our bodies, govern our gestures, dictate our behaviours etc. In other words, rather than ask
ourselves how the sovereign appears to us in his lofty isolation, we should try to discover how it is that subjects are gradually,
progressively, really and materially constituted through a multiplicity of organisms, forces, energies, materials, desires, thoughts etc.
We should try to grasp subjection in its material instance as a constitution of subjects. This would be the exact opposite of Hobbes'
project in Leviathan, and of that, I believe, of all jurists for whom the problem is the distillation of a single will-or rather, the
constitution of a unitary, singular body animated by the spirit of sovereignty- from the particular wills of a multiplicity of individuals.
Think of the scheme of Leviathan: insofar as he is a fabricated man, Leviathan
is no other than the amalgamation
of a certain number of separate in- dividualities, who find themselves reunited by the complex
of elements that go to compose the State; but at the heart of the State, or rather, at its head,
there exists something which constitutes it as such, and this is sovereignty, which Hobbes says
is precisely the spirit of Leviathan. Well, rather than worry about the problem of the central
spirit, I believe that we must attempt to study the myriad of bodies which are constituted as
peripheral subjects as a result of the effects of power.
colleges in this country is assumed to take place nowhere, even though the issues that
are debated are profoundly historical, which means that positions are always
represented from the perspective of power, and a matter of life and death. I find it
grotesque that in the debate world, it doesn’t matter which position you take on an issue
— say, the United States’ unilateral wars of preemption — as long as you “score points”. The world we live in is a world
entirely dominated by an “exceptionalist” America which has perennially claimed that it has
been chosen by God or History to fulfill his/its “errand in the wilderness.” That claim is
powerful because American economic and military power lies behind it. And any
alternative position in such a world is virtually powerless. Given this inexorable historical
reality, to assume, as the protocols of debate do, that all positions are equal is to efface
the imbalances of power that are the fundamental condition of history and to annul the
Moral authority inhering in the position of the oppressed . This is why I have said that the appropriation of my
interested work on education and empire to this transcendental debate world constitute a travesty of my intentions. My scholarship is not “disinterested.” It is militant
and intended to ameliorate as much as possible the pain and suffering of those who have been oppressed by the “democratic” institutions that have power precisely by
claimed, is informed by the will to power over all manner of “others.” This is also why I told my interlocutor
that he and those in the debate world who felt like him should call into question the traditional “objective” debate protocols and the instrumentalist language they
neocons who now saturate the government of the Bush administration — judges,
pentagon planners, state department officials, etc. learned their “disinterested”
argumentative skills in the high school and college debate societies and that, accordingly,
they have become masters at disarming the just causes of the oppressed. This kind
leadership will reproduce itself (along with the invisible oppression it perpetrates) as long as the training ground
and the debate protocols from which it emerges remains in tact. A revolution in the
debate world must occur. It must force that unworldly world down into the historical arena where positions make a difference. To invoke the
late Edward Said, only such a revolution will be capable of “deterring democrac y” (in Noam Chomsky’s ironic
phrase), of instigating the secular critical consciousness that is, in my mind, the sine qua non for
avoiding the immanent global disaster towards which the blind arrogance of Bush Administration and his neocon policy makers is
leading.
Their Framework bad – Domination
____ The decision-making paradigm inherent in the traditional forms of political
engagement engages in an unconscious exercise of power over the self which
regulates discourse and produces for itself legitimate methods for engagement
which rarely result in change.
Kulynych, 97, Winthrop U Prof of Polysci (Jessica, “Performing Politics: Foucault,
Habermas, and Postmodern Participation, Polity, Vol. 30, No. 2 (Winter, 1997),
315-346, accessed Jstor)
While separately both Habermas and Foucault challenge the traditional understanding of participation, their combined insights further and irrevocably extend that
challenge. Theoretical focus on the distinctions between Habermas and Foucault has all too often obscured important parallels between these two theorists.
Specifically, the Habermas-Foucault debate has underemphasized the extent to which Habermas also describes a disciplinary society. In his descriptions of bureaucracy,
technocracy, and system colonization, Habermas is also describing a world where power is productive and dispersed and where political action is constrained and
normalized. Habermas, like Foucault, describes a type of power that cannot be adequately characterized in terms of the intentions of those who possess it. Colonization
is not the result of conscious intention, but is rather the unintended consequence of a multitude of small adjustments. The gender and racial subtexts infusing the
system are not the results of conscious intention, but rather of implicit gender and racial norms and expectations infecting the economy and the state.
Bureaucratic power is not a power that is possessed by any individual or agency, but
exists in the exercise of decisionmaking. As Iris Young points out, we must "analyze the exercise of
power [in contemporary societies] as the effect of often liberal and humane practices of
education, bureaucratic administration, production and distribution of consumer goods, medicine and so on."' The very practices that
Habermas chronicles are exemplary of a power that has no definitive subject. As Young explains, " the conscious actions of many
individuals daily contribute to maintaining and reproducing oppression, but those people
are simply doing their jobs or living their lives, and do not understand themselves as agents of
oppression."8 Colonization and bureaucratization also fit the pattern of a power that is not primarily repressive but productive. Disciplinary
technologies are, as Sawicki describes, not... repressive mechanisms ... [that] operate primarily through violence ... or seizure ... but rather [they
operate] by producing new objects and subjects of knowledge, by inciting and channeling
desires, generating and focusing individual and group energies, and establishing bodily
norms and techniques for observing, monitoring and controlling bodily movements,
processes, and capacities.9 The very practices of administration, distribution, and decisionmaking on which
Habermas focuses his attention can and must be analyzed as productive disciplinary practices . Although these
practices can clearly be repressive, their most insidious effects are productive. Rather than simply holding people back,
bureaucratization breaks up, categorizes, and systemizes projects and people . It creates new
categories of knowledge and expertise. Bureaucratization and colonization also create new subjects as the objects of bureaucratic expertise. The social welfare client
and the consumer citizen are the creation of bureaucratic power, not merely its target. The extension of lifeworld gender norms into the system creates the possibility
for sexual harassment, job segregation, parental leave, and consensual corporate decisionmaking. Created as a part of these subjectivities are new gestures and norms
of bodily behavior, such as the embarrassed shuffling of food stamps at the grocery checkout and the demeaning sexual reference at the office copier. Bodily
movements are monitored and regularized by means of political opinion polls, welfare lists, sexual harassment protocols, flex-time work schedules, and so forth.
Modern disciplinary power, as described by Foucault and implied by Habermas, does not merely prevent us from
developing, but creates us differently as the effect of its functioning . These disciplinary techniques not only
control us, but also enable us to be more efficient and more productive, and often more powerful. Focusing on the disciplinary elements of the Habermasian critique
opens the door for exploring the postmodern character of Habermasian politics. Because Habermas does describe a disciplinary world, his prescription for
disciplinary world. Foucault's sensitivity to the workings of disciplinary power is central to the articulation of a plausible, postmodern version of
discursive politics. In the following discussion I will argue for a performative redefinition of participation that will reinvigorate the micro-politics demanded by Foucault,
as well as provide a more nuanced version of the discursive politics demanded by Habermas.
Policy Not Key
____ Policy choices are not what shapes the forces of domination, but our
mode of thought.
Burke, Senior Lecturer in Politics and International Relations at UNSW, Sydney,
in ‘7 |Anthony, “Ontologies of War: Violence, Existence and Reason”, Back to
Theory & Event, 10.2|
What I take from Heid\egger's argument -- one that I have sought to extend by analysing the militaristic power of modern ontologies of political existence and security
And, slowing things down plays into the hands of fundamentalisms of all
stripes. The K would make the tea party’s nostalgic politics more effective.**
Connolly, Krieger-Eisenhower Professor of Political Science at Johns Hopkins
University, in ‘2
[William, Neuropolitics, pg. 180]
Today, ironically, the
most virulent attempts to slow things down now take the form of national
and religious fundamentalisms that deploy media sound bites and military campaigns of
ethnic cleansing to return to a slow, centered world. Indeed, the ambiguity of speed finds its
most salient manifestation in the paradoxical contest taking place in our souls, our states, and
our interstate actions between the pluralization of public cultures and their
fundamentalization. Fundamentalism is the shape the desire for a slow, centered world takes
when its temporal conditions of possibility are absent. The drives to pluralize and to
fundamentalize culture form, therefore, two contending responses to late-modern acceleration.
Each propensity intensifies under the same temporal conditions. And that struggle goes on
within us as well as between us. As that contest proceeds it also becomes clear why
democratic pluralists must embrace the positive potentialities of speed while working to attenuate its
most dangerous effects. We explored these issues in chapter 6 primarily within the compass of the territorial state. We turn now to
that dimension of citizen politics that reaches across states.
And, we can’t go back to an age before technology—pursuing high-speed rail as
a shared resource through an embrace of pluralism harnesses the revolutionary
power of speed to democratic ends. Opening ourselves up to the dynamism of
speed is crucial to overcome virulent nationalism, social violence, and the
drumbeat of war. ¶
Connolly 2 (William E. Krieger-Eisenhower Professor of Political Science at Johns
Hopkins University, “Neuropolitics Thinking, Culture, Speed” Theory Out of
Bounds, Volume 23, University of Minnesota Press, P140-2)
Arendt fears that the late-modern acceleration of pace accentuates a dangerous nostalgia to return to the “quiet of the past,” a
quiet placed in quotes because our contemporary memory of it is unavoidably inflected differently than it would have been
experienced during the fugitive present when the horizon of the future was open. For the future is never what it used to be, and
neither is the past. This
nostalgia for a comforting image of the past expresses anxiety about the
security of immortality, existential meaning, moral boundaries, explanatory confidence, and
narrative closure. All these are called into question by the acceleration of pace. Arendt herself is deeply ambivalent about the
condition she diagnoses. I concur in that ambivalence enough to say that without the pull of the past the horizon of the future would
explode into an abyss. With it, the fundamental issues are, first, how to engage the rift and, second, how to respond thoughtfully to
the acceleration of pace without falling into either a dangerous insistence upon slowing the world down to a snail’s pace or a crude
celebration of high velocity per se. The challenge for those who embrace the rift is how to reconfigure the balance between past and
future in a world whirling faster than heretofore. And how to respond with agonistic respect to those who do not embrace the idea
of a rift in a context where neither this cosmology nor those ranged against it is soon likely to receive a definitive demonstration.
The intellectual challenge is how to come to terms productively with the ambiguous relations
among time, pace, freedom, plurality, and democracy. None of us may really be prepared to meet this
challenge. But time is short. You might say that as the asymmetries between different zones of time
widen it becomes easier to discern the rift, which, as Nietzsche, Deleuze, Prigogine, Arendt, and I contend, is
constitutive of time itself. But, again, that very suspicion may tempt many into a dangerous, reactive
response: into a series of familiar political movements to slow time down to conceal the rift.
Such reactive drives are not too likely to grab hold effectively of the processes of capitalist
invention, finance, investment, labor migration, geographic expansion, and intraterritorial
colonization, even though these are preeminent forces propelling the acceleration of pace . For
these processes flow through and across states in ways that make it difficult for any territorially organized entity to govern them
effectively. The collapse of the Soviet Union is probably bound up in part with that state’s inability either to avoid these processes or
to absorb them into its political economy without transforming it. So now resentment
against the acceleration of
pace becomes projected upon religious and nationalist drives to identify a series of vulnerable
constituencies as paradigmatic enemies of territorial culture, traditional morality, unified
politics, and Christian civilization. The atheist, the postmodernist, the gay, the prostitute , the
Democracy and Time 146,7 Jew, the media, the nomadic Indian, and the Gypsy have all been defined as paradigmatic agents of
restlessness, nomadism, superficial fashion, immorality, and danger by defenders of close integration among political territory,
religious unity, and moral monism. Such
definitions displace upon vulnerable constituencies anxiety
about the pace of life and the rift in time. The underlying enemy is speed and uncertainty, but
it is difficult to grab hold of the capitalist systems in which these processes are set. The hopeful
thing is how many contemporary Christians, in the name of Christian love, join others in resisting and transcending these ugly
equations. When Wolin’s presentation of the acceleration of pace in several zones of life is juxtaposed to my portrayal of the rift in
time, a different picture of the contemporary condition emerges. Uneven
pace across zones helps to reveal more
poignantly what has always been in operation, a rift between past and future that helps to
constitute the essence of time and to enter into the constitution of politics itself. It now
becomes possible to come to terms with this condition in a more affirmative way. I do not think,
again, that the reading of time I endorse has been proved defin- itively, nor is either it or the interpretations it contends against apt
to be. But this interpretation does pose powerful challenges to those who implicitly treat one of the alternative conceptions of time
as if it were undeniable. To embrace the rift is to challenge demands in contemporary social science for consummate explanation,
cul- tural theory for smooth narrative, moral philosophy for thick, stable universals, and popular culture for the sufficiency of
common sense. Even as efforts to slow the world down fail, they do untold harm to many
constituencies striving to respond in new ways to injuries imposed upon them and new
possibilities opened up before them. Perhaps the best way to proceed is to strive to modulate
the fastest and most dangerous military and corporate processes while intervening politically
within accelerated processes of communication, travel, population flows, and cultural
intersection to support a more generous ethos of pluralism. Such a double orientation does not scrap the
advantages of territorial democracy, but it does support democratic movements that extend beyond the parameters of the
territorial state as well as operate within it. The challenge is how to support the positive connections among democracy, uneven
zones of tempo, and the rift in time without legitimating a pace of life so fast that the promise of democracy becomes translated
into fascist becoming machines.
And,
Connolly 2 (William E. Krieger-Eisenhower Professor of Political Science at Johns
Hopkins University, “Neuropolitics Thinking, Culture, Speed” Theory Out of
Bounds, Volume 23, University of Minnesota Press, P178-9)
Sheldon wolin seeks to save local democracy by slowing down time. Paul Virilio lifts the issue of speed into the ether of global politics itself. It would be difficult to overstate the
importance of Virilio to exploration of the effects of speed upon the late-modern condition. Everybody who engages the issue is indebted to him, even when they disagree with
When speed accelerates, Virilio says, space is compressed. And everything else changes
him profoundly.
too: the ability to deliberate before going to war; the priority of civilian control over the
military; the integrity of the territorial politics of place; the capacity to think with concepts in
relation to images; the ability to escape the eye of surveillance; and so on and on. Not only does Virilio
chart the multiple effects of speed, he develops an arresting vocabulary to fix these effects in our minds: the war machine, the unspecified enemy, the nonplace of speed, the
negation of space, the perpetual state of emergency, the miniaturization of action, the disappearance of the present, and the integral accident. These pithy formulations
encapsulate in their brevity the compression of time they represent, giving us a double dose of the phenomenon Virilio warns against. And the danger is great. Little doubt about
that. If you treat the war machine as the paradigm of speed, as Virilio does, it seems that sometime during the 1960s the ability to deliberate democratically about military
action was jeopardized by the imperative to automatize split-second responses to preemptive strikes a minute or less away from their targets. My concern, nonetheless, is that
Virilio allows the military paradigm to overwhelm all other modalities and experiences of speed. Virilio remains transfixed by a model of politics insufficiently attuned to the
ventilating dogmatic identities in the domains of religion, sensuality, ethnicity, gender, and
nationality. And he remains so sunk in the memory of the territorial nation as the place of
democratic deliberation that he too quickly dismisses the productive possibilities (I do not say
probabilities) of cosmopolitanism in the late-modern time. Let’s listen to some moves in Virilio’s presentation of the
correspondences between speed, temporality, territory, democratic deliberation, nation- hood, and belonging. The speed of the political decision depends on the sophistication
of the vectors: how to transport the bomb? how fast? The bomb is political . . . not because of an explosion that should never happen, but because it is the ultimate form of
political surveillance. Social conflicts arise from rivalries between those who occupy and preserve an eco-system as the place that specifies them as a family or group, and that
therefore deserves every sacrifice, including sudden death. For “if to be is to inhabit,’ not to inhabit is no longer to exist. Sudden death is preferable to the slow death . . . of the
after that of the fortified city and armor, leads to a situation in which the notions of “before”
and “after” designate only the future and the past in a form of war that causes the “present”
to disappear in the instantaneousness of decision. “Unlike cinema,” Hitchcock said, “with television there is no time for suspense, you
can only have surprise.” This is . . . the paradoxical logic of the videoframe which privileges the accident, the surprise, over the durable substance of the message. In the first
Here
instance, it [war] involves the elimination of the appearance of the facts, the continuation of what Kipling meant when he said: “Truth is the first casualty of war.”
again it is less a matter of introducing some maneuver . . . than with the obliteration of the
very principle of truth. Moral relativism has always been offensive, from time immemorial. The more speed increases the faster freedom decreases.1 But
what if, as I began to argue in the last chapter, the compression of distance through speed has some of the effects Virilio records while it also supports the possibility of
democratic pluralization within states and the periodic emergence of citizen cosmopolitanism across states speaking affirmatively to issues of ecology, peace, indigenous
minorities, the legitimation of new identities and rights, and the better protection of old rights? Then acceleration would carry positive possibilities as well as dangers. And a
The contemporary
single-minded attack on its dangers would forfeit access to its positive possibilities. Let me, then, summarize my contentions: •
as purposive organism or set of timeless laws, and the solidity of thick moral universals
governed experience of the world and enabled democratic deliberation. Today, ironically, the most virulent
attempts to slow things down now take the form of national and religious fundamentalisms
that deploy media sound bites and military campaigns of ethnic cleansing to return to a slow,
centered world. Indeed, the ambiguity of speed finds its most salient manifestation in the paradoxical contest taking place in our souls, our states, and our
interstate actions between the pluralization of public cultures and their fundamentalization. Fundamentalism is the shape the desire for a slow, centered world takes when its
temporal conditions of possibility are absent. The drives to pluralize and to fundamentalize culture form, therefore, two contending responses to late-modern acceleration. Each
propensity intensifies under the same temporal conditions. And that struggle goes on within us as well as between us. As that contest proceeds it also becomes clear why
democratic pluralists must embrace the positive potentialities of speed while working to attenuate its most dangerous effects. We explored these issues in chapter 6 primarily
within the compass of the territorial state. We turn now to that dimension of citizen politics that reaches across states.
Modernity Good – Violence Decreasing
____ The kritik is revisionist history. Modernity has universally decreased
violence by 90%.
Pinker, Psychology Prof. at Harvard, in ‘7 [Steven, “A History of Violence,”
http://www.edge.org/3rd_culture/pinker07/pinker07_index.html]
At one time, these facts were widely appreciated. They were the source of notions like
progress, civilization, and man's rise from savagery and barbarism. Recently, however, those
ideas have come to sound corny, even dangerous. They seem to demonize people in other
times and places, license colonial conquest and other foreign adventures , and conceal the crimes of
our own societies. The doctrine of the noble savage—the idea that humans are peaceable by nature and corrupted by modern
institutions—pops up frequently in the writing of public intellectuals like José Ortega y Gasset ("War is not an instinct but an
invention"), Stephen Jay Gould ("Homo sapiens is not an evil or destructive species"), and Ashley Montagu ("Biological studies lend
support to the ethic of universal brotherhood"). But, now
that social scientists have started to count bodies in
different historical periods, they have discovered that the romantic theory gets it backward:
Far from causing us to become more violent, something in modernity and its cultural
institutions has made us nobler. To be sure, any attempt to document changes in violence must be soaked in
uncertainty. In much of the world, the distant past was a tree falling in the forest with no one to hear it, and, even for events in the
historical record, statistics are spotty until recent periods. Long-term trends can be discerned only by smoothing out zigzags and
spikes of horrific bloodletting. And the choice to focus on relative rather than absolute numbers brings up the moral imponderable
of whether it is worse for 50 percent of a population of 100 to be killed or 1 percent in a population of one billion. Yet, despite these
caveats, a picture is taking shape. The
decline of violence is a fractal phenomenon, visible at the scale of
millennia, centuries, decades, and years. It applies over several orders of magnitude of
violence, from genocide to war to rioting to homicide to the treatment of children and
animals. And it appears to be a worldwide trend, though not a homogeneous one. The leading edge has
been in Western societies , especially England and Holland, and there seems to have been a tipping point at the onset of
the Age of Reason in the early seventeenth century. At the widest-angle view, one can see a whopping difference across the
millennia that separate us from our pre-state ancestors. Contra leftist anthropologists who celebrate the noble
savage, quantitative body-counts—such as the proportion of prehistoric skeletons with axemarks and embedded
arrowheads or the proportion of men in a contemporary foraging tribe who die at the hands of other men—suggest that pre-
state societies were far more violent than our own. It is true that raids and battles killed a tiny
percentage of the numbers that die in modern warfare. But, in tribal violence, the clashes are
more frequent, the percentage of men in the population who fight is greater, and the rates of
death per battle are higher. According to anthropologists like Lawrence Keeley, Stephen LeBlanc, Phillip Walker, and
Bruce Knauft, these factors combine to yield population-wide rates of death in tribal warfare that
dwarf those of modern times. If the wars of the twentieth century had killed the same
proportion of the population that die in the wars of a typical tribal society, there would have
been two billion deaths, not 100 million . Political correctness from the other end of the
ideological spectrum has also distorted many people's conception of violence in early
civilizations—namely, those featured in the Bible. This supposed source of moral values
contains many celebrations of genocide, in which the Hebrews, egged on by God, slaughter every last resident of an
invaded city. The Bible also prescribes death by stoning as the penalty for a long list of nonviolent infractions, including idolatry,
blasphemy, homosexuality, adultery, disrespecting one's parents, and picking up sticks on the Sabbath. The Hebrews, of course,
were no more murderous than other tribes; one also finds frequent boasts of torture and genocide in the early histories of the
Hindus, Christians, Muslims, and Chinese. At the century scale, it is hard to find quantitative studies of deaths in warfare spanning
medieval and modern times. Several historians have suggested that there has been an increase in the number of recorded wars
across the centuries to the present, but, as political scientist James Payne has noted, this may show only that "the Associated Press is
a more comprehensive source of information about battles around the world than were sixteenth-century monks." Social histories of
the West provide evidence of numerous barbaric practices that became obsolete in the last five centuries, such as slavery,
amputation, blinding, branding, flaying, disembowelment, burning at the stake, breaking on the wheel, and so on. Meanwhile, for
another kind of violence—homicide—the data are abundant and striking. The criminologist Manuel Eisner has
assembled hundreds of homicide estimates from Western European localities that kept
records at some point between 1200 and the mid-1990s. In every country he analyzed, murder
rates declined steeply—for example, from 24 homicides per 100,000 Englishmen in the
fourteenth century to 0.6 per 100,000 by the early 1960s. On the scale of decades,
comprehensive data again paint a shockingly happy picture: Global violence has fallen steadily
since the middle of the twentieth century. According to the Human Security Brief 2006, the
number of battle deaths in interstate wars has declined from more than 65,000 per year in the
1950s to less than 2,000 per year in this decade . In Western Europe and the Americas, the second half of the
century saw a steep decline in the number of wars, military coups, and deadly ethnic riots. Zooming in by a further power of ten
exposes yet another reduction. After the cold war, every part of the world saw a steep drop-off in state-based conflicts, and those
that do occur are more likely to end in negotiated settlements rather than being fought to the bitter end. Meanwhile, according
to political scientist Barbara Harff, between 1989 and 2005 the number of campaigns of mass
killing of civilians decreased by 90 percent.
Biopolitics Good – Dickinson
____ Biopolitics good—It leads to freedom and resistance to the most
oppresive parts of the system through resistance from below
Dickinson, University of Cincinnati, March 2004 [Edward Ross, “Biopolitics,
Fascism, Democracy: Some Reflections on Our Discourse About “Modernity,”
Central European History, vol. 37, no. 1, p.41-44]
In any case, the focus
on the activities and ambitions of the social engineers in the literature on biopolitical modernity
has begun to reach the point of diminishing returns. In the current literature, it seems that biopolitics
is almost always acting on (or attempting to act on) people; it is almost never something they do. This
kind of model is not very realistic. This is not how societies work. The example of the attempt
to create a eugenic counseling system in Prussia should be instructive in this respect. Here public health
and eugenics experts— technocrats— tried to impart their sense of eugenic crisis and their optimism about the possibility of
creating a better “race” to the public; and they successfully mobilized the resources of the state in support of their vision. And yet,
what emerged quite quickly from this effort was in fact a system of public contraceptive
advice — or family planning. It is not so easy to impose technocratic ambitions on the public,
particularly in a democratic state; and “on the ground,” at the level of interactions with actual
persons and social groups, public policy often takes on a life of its own, at least partially
independent of the fantasies of technocrats.¶ This is of course a point that Foucault makes with
particular clarity. The power of discourse is not the power of manipulative elites, which
control it and impose it from above. Manipulative elites always face resistance, often
effective, resistance. More important, the power of discourse lies precisely in its ability to set
the terms for such struggles, to define what they are about, as much as what their outcomes
are. As Foucault put it, power— including the power to manage life —“comes from
everywhere.”105 Biomedical knowledge was not the property only of technocrats, and it could
be used to achieve ends that had little to do with their social-engineering schemes. 106 Modern
biopolitics is a multifaceted world of discourse and practice elaborated and put into practice at multiple levels throughout modern
societies. And of course it is often no less economistic—no less based on calculations of cost and benefit —at the level of the
individual or family than it is in the technocrats’ visions of national efficiency.¶ In fact, the
literature of the past twenty
years has made it abundantly clear that a great deal of “official” biopolitical discourse
generated by academics and civil servants was essentially reactive. A vast amount of discussion among
eugenics, population policy, and welfare experts focused on the concrete “problem” of the demographic transition of the early
twentieth century. It was the use of reproductive knowledge and reproductive technology by millions of Europeans to limit their
fertility — the Geburtenrückgang or decline of births, in German parlance — that was the center of concern. While much of the
historical literature stresses the role of science in shaping technocratic ambition, of course actually a large proportion of the
technocrats’ discourse was concerned with orchestrating a return to more “natural” and less technologically-enabled reproductive
patterns. The problem, particularly for the more influential moderate and pronatalist branch of eugenics, was not only how to apply
modern science to humanity, but more importantly how to get humanity to stop applying modern science to itself. ¶ Atina
Grossmann, in her history of the organized mass popular movement for fertility control in
Germany in the 1920s, has given us a good example of what this shift in perspective can reveal. Grossmann
stresses the technocratic ambition and relatively conservative intent of many medical sex reformers, the power of the “motherhood-
eugenics consensus” to shape and limit acceptable definitions of women’s social and sexual roles and aspirations in this period, and
the prevalence of the rhetoric of “social health, medicalization, cost effectiveness, and national welfare.” And yet, in
the final
analysis she describes a powerful reform movement that helped to spread contraceptives and
contraceptive knowledge widely among the German population. Popular groups were
“increasingly insistent that the working class also had a right to the benefits of scientific
progress” (in the form of contraceptive technologies); and while most of the medical establishment opposed
the widespread use of contraceptives, the popular movement garnered critical support from
radical socialists within the med-ical profession. As Grossmann remarks, “the German case is
instructive precisely because it illustrates the fallacies of setting up rigid categories of
‘popular’ and ‘professional.’”107¶ In short: is the microphysics of modern power/knowledge
always the microphysics of oppression, exploitation, and manipulation? Are technocratic elites always
in charge of the imperatives of discourse — or do discourses have their own logic, which ¶ technocrats can
define, escape or direct no more (or less) than can anyone else? Discourse may or may not be
a locomotive, driving down a pre-determined track and dictating individual decisions and fates
by its own internal logic; but even if it is, the technocrats aren’t driving it, and in fact their
schemes may get field of state activity was often the product of technocratic “readings” of
biopolitical discourse. But it was only one small part of a much broader process by which a
large proportion of the German population came to define their needs and aspirations in new
ways. We need not exaggerate the degrees of freedom that process generated to be able to
appreciate that in some cases, to some extent, and sometimes willy-nilly, discourse and policy
were actually a response to that broader process of redefinition — in short, to “demand-side” pressures.¶
Uncoupling “technocracy” from “discourse” is not yet enough, however. We should also be alive to the ways in
which new social practices, institutions, and knowledge generated new choices — a limited range of
them, constrained by all kinds of discursive and social frameworks, but nonetheless historically new and significant. Modern
biopolitics did create, in a real sense, not only new constraints but also new degrees of
freedom— new levers that increased people’s power to move their own worlds, to shape their
own lives. Our understanding of modern biopolitics will be more realistic and more fruitful if we reconceptualize its
development as a complex process in which the implications of those new choices were negotiated out in the social and discursive
context. Again, inthe early twentieth century many more conservative biopolitical “experts”
devoted much of their energy precisely to trying— without any discernable success— to
control those new degrees of freedom. For most social liberals and Social Democrats, however, those
new choices were a potential source of greater social efficiency and social dynamism. State
policy reflected the constant negotiation and tension between these perspectives. ¶ Nor should we
stop at a reexamination of knowledge and technology. It might make sense, too, to reexamine the process of
institution-building, the elaboration of the practices and institutions of biopolitics. No doubt
the creation of public and private social welfare institutions created instruments for the study,
manipulation, or control of individuals and groups. But it also generated opportunities for self-
organization and participation by social groups of all kinds. Grossmann’s birth control
movement was but one instance of the explosive growth of the universe of associational life
in the field of biopolitics, which itself was only one small part of a much broader
development: the self-creation of a new, urban industrial social order, the creation of a self-
government of society through myriad nongovernmental organizations. In these
organizations, citizens were acting to shape their own lives in ways that were often
fundamentally important as part of lived experience — of the “life world.” Of course there was
nothing inherently democratic about these organizations or their social functions — many were authoritarian in structure, many
cultivated a tendentially elitist culture of expertise, and some pursued exclusionary and discriminatory agendas. Nevertheless, they
institutionalized pluralism, solicited participation, enforced public debate, and effectively
sabotaged simple authoritarian government. Again, National Socialist totalitarianism was in part
a response precisely to the failure of political, social, and cultural elites to contain and control
this proliferation of voices, interests, and influence groups. 108
____ Biopolitics is good—only seeing it as bad A) ignores the massive decrease
in structural violence it has caused and B) views power unidirectionally in
contradiction with their own critique
Dickinson, University of Cincinnati, March 2004 [Edward Ross, “Biopolitics,
Fascism, Democracy: Some Reflections on Our Discourse About “Modernity,”
Central European History, vol. 37, no. 1, p. 36-39
This understanding of the democratic and totalitarian potentials of biopolitics at the level of
the state needs to be underpinned by a reassessment of how biopolitical discourse operates in
society at large, at the “prepolitical” level. I would like to try to offer here the beginnings of a
reconceptualization of biopolitical modernity, one that focuses less on the machinations of
technocrats and experts, and more on the different ways that biopolitical thinking circulated
within German society more broadly.¶ It is striking, then, that the new model of German modernity is even
more relentlessly negative than the old Sonderweg model. In that older model, premodern elites were constantly
triumphing over the democratic opposition. But at least there was an opposition; and in the long run, time
was on the side of that opposition, which in fact embodied the historical movement of
modern- ization. In the new model, there is virtually a biopolitical consensus. 92 And that
consensus is almost always fundamentally a nasty, oppressive thing, one that partakes in
crucial ways of the essential quality of National Socialism. Everywhere biopolitics is intrusive,
technocratic, top-down, constraining, limiting. Biopolitics is almost never conceived of — or at
least discussed in any detail— as creating possibilities for people, as expanding the range of their
choices, as empowering them, or indeed as doing anything positive for them at all. ¶ Of course, at
the most simple-minded level, it seems to me that an assessment of the potentials of modernity that ignores
the ways in which biopolitics has made life tangibly better is somehow deeply flawed. To give just
one example, infant mortality in Germany in 1900 was just over 20 percent ; or, in other words, one in
five children died before reaching the age of one year. By 1913, it was 15 percent; and by 1929 (when average real
purchasing power was not significantly higher than in 1913) it was only 9.7 percent.93 The expansion of infant health
programs— an enormously ambitious, bureaucratic, medicalizing, and sometimes intrusive, social engineering project— had a great
deal to do with that change. It would be bizarre to write a history of biopolitical modernity that ruled
out an appreciation for how absolutely wonderful and astonishing this achievement— and any
number of others like it — really was. There was a reason for the “Machbarkeitswahn” of the early twentieth
century: many marvelous things were in fact becoming machbar. In that sense, it is not really accurate to call it a
“Wahn” (delusion, craziness) at all; nor is it accurate to focus only on the “inevitable” frustration of
“delusions” of power. Even in the late 1920s, many social engineers could and did look with
great satisfaction on the changes they genuinely had the power to accomplish. ¶ Concretely,
moreover, I am not convinced that power operated in only one direction — from the top down—
in social work. Might we not ask whether people actually demanded welfare services, and
whether and how social workers and the state struggled to respond to those demands? David
Crew and Greg Eghigian, for example, have given us detailed studies of the micropolitics of welfare in the
Weimar period in which it becomes clear that conflicts between welfare administrators and their
“clients” were sparked not only by heavyhanded intervention, but also by refusal to help. 94
What is more, the specific nature of social programs matters a great deal, and we must distinguish
between the different dynamics (and histories) of different programs. The removal of children
from their families for placement in foster families or reformatories was bitterly hated and stubbornly
resisted by working-class families; but mothers brought their children to infant health clinics voluntarily
and in numbers, and after 1945 they brought their older children to counseling clinics, as well. In this instance, historians of
the German welfare state might profit from the “demand side” models of welfare development that are sometimes more explicitly
explored in some of the international literature.95¶ In fact, even where social workers really were attempting
to limit or subvert the autonomy and power of parents, I ¶ am not sure that their actions can
be characterized only and exclusively as part of a microphysics of oppression. Progressive child
welfare advocates in Germany, particularly in the National Center for Child Welfare, waged a campaign in the
1920s to persuade German parents and educators to stop beating children with such ferocity,
regularity, and nonchalance. They did so because they feared the unintended physical and psychological effects of
beatings, and implicitly because they believed physical violence could compromise the development of the kind of autonomous,
selfreliant subjectivity on which a modern state had to rely in its citizenry.96 Or, to
give another common example
from the period, children removed from their families after being subjected by parents or
other relatives to repeated episodes of violence or rape were being manipulated by
biopolitical technocrats, and were often abused in new ways in institutions or foster families; but they were also
being liberated. Sometimes some forms of the exercise of power in society are in some ways
emancipatory; and that is historically significant. ¶ Further, of course we must ask whether it is really true that
social workers’ and social agencies’ attempts to manipulate people worked. My own impression is that social policy makers
grew increasingly aware, between the 1870s and the 1960s, that their own ends could not be achieved unless they won the
cooperation of the targets of policy. And to do that, they had to offer people things that they wanted and
needed. Policies that incited resistance were — sometimes with glacial slowness, after stubborn and embittered
struggles—de-emphasized or even abandoned. Should we really see the history of social welfare
policy as a more or less static (because the same thing is always happening) history of the imposition of
manipulative policies on populations? I believe a more complex model of the evolution of social policy as a system of
social interaction, involving conflicting and converging demands, constant negotiation, struggle, and— above all— mutual learning
would be more appropriate. This is a point Abram de Swaan and others have made at some length; but it does not appear to have
been built into our theory of modernity very systematically, least of all in German history.97
____ Biopolitics is not the problem in and of itself, it’s biopolitics deployed in
totalitariains socities which is bad—Our strengthening of democratic structures
prevents, not causes, their impact
Dickinson, University of Cincinnati, March 2004 [Edward Ross, “Biopolitics,
Fascism, Democracy: Some Reflections on Our Discourse About “Modernity,”
Central European History, vol. 37, no. 1, p. 18-19]
In an important programmatic statement of 1996 Geoff Eley celebrated the fact that Foucault’s ideas have “fundamentally directed
attention away from institutionally centered conceptions of government and the state . . . and toward a dispersed and decentered
notion of power and its ‘microphysics.’”48 The “broader, deeper, and less visible ideological consensus” on “technocratic reason and
the ethical unboundedness of science” was the focus of his interest.49 Butthe “power-producing effects in
Foucault’s ‘microphysical’ sense” (Eley) of the construction of social bureaucracies and social knowledge, of “an entire
institutional apparatus and system of practice” ( Jean Quataert), simply do not explain Nazi policy.50 The
destructive dynamic of Nazism was a product not so much of a particular modern set of ideas
as of a particular modern political structure, one that could realize the disastrous potential of
those ideas. What was critical was not the expansion of the instruments and disciplines of biopolitics, which
occurred everywhere in Europe. Instead, it was the principles that guided how those instruments and
disciplines were organized and used, and the external constraints on them. In National Socialism, biopolitics was
shaped by a totalitarian conception of social management focused on the power and ubiquity
of the völkisch state. In democratic societies, biopolitics has historically been constrained by a
rights-based strategy of social management . This is a point to which I will return shortly. For now, the point is that
what was decisive was actually politics at the level of the state.
A comparative framework can help us to clarify this point. Other states passed compulsory
sterilization laws in the 1930s — indeed, individual states in the United States had already
begun doing so in 1907. Yet they did not proceed to the next steps adopted by National
Socialism — mass sterilization, mass “eugenic” abortion and murder of the “defective.”
Individual figures in, for example, the U.S. did make such suggestions. But neither the political
structures of democratic states nor their legal and political principles permitted such policies
actually being enacted. Nor did the scale of forcible sterilization in other countries match that of
the Nazi program. I do not mean to suggest that such programs were not horrible; but in a
democratic political context they did not develop the dynamic of constant radicalization and
escalation that characterized Nazi policies.
____ Their critique of biopolitics only focuses on the dark side of modernity.
This one sided picture masks the achievements of biopolitical modernity, which
is the large scale absence of mass murder not its cause
Dickinson, University of Cincinnati, March 2004 [Edward Ross, “Biopolitics,
Fascism, Democracy: Some Reflections on Our Discourse About “Modernity,”
Central European History, vol. 37, no. 1, p. 23-25]
A second example is Geoff Eley’s masterful synthetic introduction to a collection of essays published in 1996 under the title Society,
Culture, and the State in Germany, 1870–1930. Eley set forth two research agendas derived from his review of recent hypotheses
regarding the origins and nature of Nazism. One was to discover what allowed so many people to identify with the Nazis. The second
was that we explore the ways in which welfare policy contributed to Nazism, by examining “the production of new values, new
mores, new social practices, new ideas about the good and efficient society.” Eley suggested that we examine “strategies of policing
and constructions of criminality, notions of the normal and the deviant, the production and regulation of sexuality, the . . .
understanding of the socially valued individual . . . the coalescence of racialized thinking . . .”62 So far so good; but why stop there?
Why not examine the expanding hold of the language of rights on the political imagination, or
the disintegration of traditional authority under the impact of the explosive expansion of the
public sphere? Why not pursue a clearer understanding of ideas about the nature of
citizenship in the modern state; about the potentials of a participatory social and political
order; about human needs and human rights to have those needs met; about the liberation of
the individual (including her sexual liberation, her liberation from ignorance and sickness, her
liberation from social and economic powerlessness); about the physical and psychological
dangers created by the existing social order and how to reduce them, the traumas it inflicted
and how to heal them? In short, why not examine how the construction of “the social” — the
ideas and practices of the modern biopolitical interventionist complex — contributed to the
development of a democratic politics and humane social policies between 1918 and 1930, and
again after 1945? Like Fritzsche’s essay, Eley’s accurately reflected the tone of most of those it introduced. In the body of the
volume, Elizabeth Domansky, for example, pointed out that biopolitics “did not ‘automatically’ or ‘naturally’ lead to the rise of
National Socialism,” but rather “provided . . . the political Right in Weimar with the opportunity to capitalize on a discursive strategy
that could successfully compete with liberal and socialist strategies.”63 This is correct; but the
language of biopolitics
was demonstrably one on which liberals, socialists, and advocates of a democratic welfare
state could also capitalize, and did. Or again, Jean Quataert remarked—quite rightly, I believe — that “the most
progressive achievements of the Weimar welfare state were completely embedded” in
biopolitical discourse. She also commented that Nazi policy was “continuous with what passed as the ruling knowledge of
the time” and was a product of “an extreme form of technocratic reason” and “early twentieth-century modernity’s dark side.” The
implication seems to be that “progressive” welfare policy was fundamentally “dark”; but it
seems more accurate to conclude that biopolitics had a variety of potentials. 64 Again, the point here
is not that any of the interpretations offered in these pieces are wrong; instead, it is that we are, collectively, so focused
on unmasking the negative potentials and realities of modernity that we have constructed a
true, but very one-sided picture. The pathos of this picture is undeniable , particularly for a generation
of historians raised on the Manichean myth— forged in the crucible of World War II and the Cold War— of the democratic welfare
state. And as a rhetorical gesture, this analysis works magnificently — weexplode the narcissistic self-admiration
of democratic modernity by revealing the dark, manipulative, murderous potential that lurks
within, thus arriving at a healthy, mature sort of melancholy. But this gesture too often
precludes asking what else biopolitics was doing, besides manipulating people, reducing them
to pawns in the plans of technocrats, and paving the way for massacre. In 1989 Detlev Peukert argued
that any adequate picture of modernity must include both its “achievements” and its
“pathologies”— social reform as well as “Machbarkeitswahn,” the “growth of rational relations between
people” as well as the “swelling instrumental goal-rationality,” the “liberation of artistic and scientific
creativity” as well as the “loss of substance and absence of limits [Haltlosigkeit].”65 Yet he himself wrote nothing like such a
“balanced” history, focusing exclusively on Nazism and on the negative half of each of these binaries; and that focus has remained
the function of the rhetorical or
characteristic of the literature as a whole. What I want to suggest here is that
explanatory framework surrounding our conception of modernity seems to be in danger of
being inverted. The investigation of the history of modern biopolitics has enabled new
understandings of National Socialism; now we need to take care that our understanding of
National Socialism does not thwart a realistic assessment of modern biopolitics. Much of the
literature leaves one with the sense that a modern world in which mass murder is not
happening is just that: a place where something is not —yet— happening. Normalization is not yet
giving way to exclusion, scientific study and classification of populations is not yet giving way to concentration camps and
extermination campaigns. Mass
murder, in short, is the historical problem; the absence of mass
murder is not a problem, it does not need to be investigated or explained.
____ Fascism is not the inevitable flip-side of biopolitical modernity, but a break
with the progressive and inclusive natuer of biopolitics
Dickinson, University of Cincinnati, March 2004 [Edward Ross, “Biopolitics,
Fascism, Democracy: Some Reflections on Our Discourse About “Modernity,”
Central European History, vol. 37, no. 1, p. 25-28]
I would like to return, then, to the question: in what ways did modern biopolitics contribute to the building
of a democratic political order in Germany? What else, besides National Socialist racial policy, did the discourse of
biopolitics make possible? For what else was the biopolitical discourse of the turn of the century a “condition of possibility”? What
other choices did it create, besides the ones the Nazis made? Taken together, the more recent literature on
the development of welfare programs in Germany now allows us to reach some definite conclusions. Welfare policy has been a key
field of inquiry for those elaborating the new vision of German modernity as biopolitical nightmare. In fact, Detlev Peukert
formulated his own highly influential version of that account in the context of a study of a particular branch of child welfare policy. In
his Grenzen der Sozialdisziplinierung (The Limits of Social Discipline), child welfare appeared as a cautionary tale regarding the
“inner, structural pathologies of social assistance,” and more generally about the “pathogenesis of modernity.” Using
correctional education in reformatories as a case study, he argued that the project of social
policy was essentially a form of “inner colonialism, ” a bourgeois attempt to impose a set of alien norms and
values from without and “above”; indeed, it was guided by a “totalitarian claim to validity” for bourgeois social and behavioral
norms.66 Like colonialism and totalitarianism, it was characterized from the beginning by a “tendency toward dehumanization,”
because there was no room in bourgeois reformers’ “utopias of order” for those who would or could not conform. The ideal of
“education for all” expanded the “life-chances of individuals from the lower classes, opened the way for them to culture and
prosperity. But at the same time, it meant also an even more determined declaration of war [Kampfansage] against those who . . .
would not allow themselves to be educated.” For “the ‘ineducable’ beyond the pedagogical province, no right to life remained.” The
idea of the “implementation of a final solution to the problem of the asocial [people]” was a “further conclusion” (Folgerung) implicit
in the project of universal socialization.67 At the end of Peukert’s book stood the National Socialist drive to pass a Law on
Community Aliens, which would have put the “antisocial” completely at the mercy of the police, and the creation in 1940 of two
special “youth concentration camps” for ineducable delinquents. Again, Peukert was very aware that he was writing the
history of only one kind of modernity , and that the most destructive potentials of modern social engineering
discourse were only to be realized in a very specific historical context. The “Final Solution” was, as he remarked,
“one among other possible outcomes of the crisis of modern civilization, ” and one possible only in the
context of the concatenation of economic, social, and political disasters through which Germany passed in the two decades before
1933. The
fact that Nazism was “one of the pathological developmental forms of modernity
does not imply that barbarism is the inevitable logical outcome of modernization,” which also
created “opportunities for human emancipation.” And yet, again, the history that Peukert actually wrote was
the history of disaster— a disaster that, frequently, does seem at least highly likely. The “fatal racist dynamic in the human and social
sciences,” which consists in their assignment of greater or lesser value to human characteristics, does “inevitably become fixated on
the utopian dream of the gradual elimination of death,” which is “unfailingly” frustrated by lived reality. In periods of fiscal crisis the
frustration of these “fantasies of omnipotence” generates a concern with “identifying, segregating, and disposing of” those judged
less valuable.68 In the most detailed exposition of his analysis, Grenzen der Sozialdisziplinierung, Peukert argues that, given the
“totalitarian claim to validity” of bourgeois norms, only the two “strategies of pedagogical normalization or eugenic exclusion” were
open to middle-class social reformers; when the one failed only the other remained. Yet the failure of pedagogical normalization was
preprogrammed into the collision between middle-class “utopias of order” and the “life-worlds” of the working class, which were
rendered disorderly by the logic of industrial capitalism.69 Again, in
Peukert’s model it seems to me that it is
really only a matter of time and circumstance before the fundamentally and necessarily
murderous potential of modernity is unleashed. A number of major studies in the 1990s, in
contrast, emphasized the importance of the break in the development of social policy in 1933.
These works consolidated the consensus regarding the importance of the economic and political crisis of the early 1930s and the
destruction of democracy and the rule of law. Beyond that, however, they
also suggest that the conceptual
foundations of Nazi social, medical, and racial policy were actually quite distinct from those of
Weimar policy — despite the fact that they were recognizably part of the broader discourse of
modern biopolitics. They point out, too, that there was an important institutional caesura in welfare policy between 1933
and 1939. In the third volume of their history of poor relief in Germany (1992), for example, Florian Tennstedt and Christoph Sachsse
concluded not only that the destruction of democratic elements in the welfare system by the Nazis had reversed the developments
of the Weimar period, but also that the triumph of racist principles in Nazi welfare policy “points to a completely new understanding
of social policy.” While
there had been exclusionary tendencies in welfare policy in the nineteenth
and twentieth centuries, the development of social policy over time had actually been
“characterized by a dynamic of inclusion.” Nazi policy,which aimed at “the hardening of racial inequalities,” thus
“sought a radical break with a central and secular developmental tendency of modernity.”70 Hans-Uwe Otto and Heinz Sünker
concurred in a volume published in the same year: the National Socialist instrumentalization of welfare was driven by a
“radicalization of critiques of the welfare state already familiar in the Weimar period” and constituted an “abandonment of the . . .
generally social-integrative function” of social policy.71 Stefan Schnurr argued that the Nazi “welfare” system broke with earlier
social policy in that it was guided explicitly by a “social-biological explanation of social problems” and by “openly exterminatory
intent”; “interest in this form of radical, goal-rational translation of social-biological and eugenic ideologies into social policy, guided
by naked cost-benefit calculations, is not to be found in the leading contemporary conceptualizations of social work.”72 In a
definitive study of Weimar child welfare policy published in 1996, Markus Gräser held that the shift
toward eugenic and biologistic models and toward exclusion of the “inferior” in the later 1920s and in the depression
“completely contradicted the inclusionary tendency of welfare policy. ”73 Finally, Young-sun Hong’s
magisterial study of Weimar social policy, published in 1998, delivered a pithy summary statement: “The Nazi project for the racial
reconstruction of society,” she held, “implied a fundamental redefinition of the meaning of welfare which stripped the concept of all
liberal-Christian connotations” derived from the founding traditions of social policy; “continuities at the level of technique were
themselves refunctioned as they were subordinated to an antithetical system of substantive ends.”74