Digifesto

Category: ideawork

intelligibility

The example of Arendt’s dismissal of scientific discourse from political discussion underscores a much deeper political problem: a lack of intelligibility.

Every language is intelligible to some people and not to others. This is obviously true in the case of major languages like English and Chinese. It is less obvious but still a problem with different dialects of a language. It becomes a source of conflict when there is a lack of intelligibility between the specialized languages of expertise or personal experience.

For many, mathematical formalism is unintelligible; it appears to be so for Arendt, and this disturbs her, as she locates politics in speech and wants there to be political controls on scientists. But how many scientists and mathematicians would find Arendt intelligible? She draws deeply on concepts from ancient Greek and Augustinian philosophy. Are these thoughts truly accessible? What about the intelligibility of the law, to non-lawyers? Or the intelligibility of spoken experiences of oppression to those who do not share such an experience?

To put it simply: people don’t always understand each other and this poses a problem for any political theory that locates justice in speech and consensus. Advocates of these speech-based politics are most often extraordinarily articulate and write persuasively about the need to curtail the power of any systems of control that they do not understand. They are unable to agree to a social contract that they cannot read.

But this persuasive speech is necessarily unable to account for the myriad mechanisms that are both conditions for the speech and unintelligible to the speaker. This includes the mechanisms of law and technology. There is a performative contradiction between these persuasive words and their conditions of dissemination, and this is reason to reject them.

Advocates of bureaucratic rule tend to be less eloquent, and those that create technological systems that replace bureaucratic functions even less so. Nevertheless each group is intelligible to itself and may have trouble understanding the other groups.

The temptation for any one segment of society to totalize its own understanding, dismissing other ways of experiencing and articulating reality as inessential or inferior, is so strong that it can be read in even great authors like Arendt. Ideological politics (as opposed to technocratic politics) is the conflict between groups expressing their interests as ideology.

The problem is that in order to function as it does at scale, modern society requires the cooperation of specialists. Its members are heterogeneous; this is the source of its flexibility and power. It is also the cause of ideological conflict between functional groups that should see themselves as part of a whole. Even if these members do see their interdependence in principle, their specialization makes them less intelligible. Articulation often involves different skills from action, and teaching to the uninitiated is another skill altogether. Meanwhile, the complexity of the social system expands as it integrates more diverse communities, reducing further the proportion understood by a single member.

There is still in some political discourse the ideal of deliberative consensus as the ground of normative or political legitimacy. Suppose, as seems likely, that this is impossible for the perfectly mundane and mechanistic reason that society is so complicated due to the demands of specialization that intelligibility among its constituents is never going to happen.

What then?

a refinement

If knowledge is situated, and scientific knowledge is the product of rational consensus among diverse constituents, then a social organization that unifies many different social units functionally will have a ‘scientific’ ideology or rationale that is specific to the situation of that organization.

In other words, the political ideology of a group of people will be part of the glue that constitutes the group. Social beliefs will be a component of the collective identity.

A social science may be the elaboration of one such ideology. Many have been. So social scientific beliefs are about capturing the conditions for the social organization which maintains that belief. (c.f. Nietzsche on tablets of values)

There are good reasons to teach these specialized social sciences as a part of vocational training for certain functions. For example, people who work in finance or business can benefit from learning economics.

Only in an academic context does the professional identity of disciplinary affiliation matter. This academic political context creates great division and confusion that merely reflects the disorganization of the academic system.

This disorganization is fruitful precisely because it allows for individuality (cf. Horkheimer). However, it is also inefficient and easy to corrupt. Hmm.

Against this, not all knowledge is situated. Some is universal. It’s universality is due to its pragmatic usefulness in technical design. Since technical design acts on everyone even when their own situated understanding does not include it, this kind of knowledge has universal ground (in violence, sadly, but maybe also in other ways.)

The question is whether there is room anywhere in the technically correct understanding of social organization (something we might see in Beniger) there is room for the articulation of what it supposed to be great and worthy of man (see Horkheimer).

I have thought for a long time that there is probably something like this describable in terms of complexity theory.

Horkheimer on engineers

Horkheimer’s comment on engineers:

It is true that the engineer, perhaps the symbol of this age, is not so exclusively bent on profitmaking as the industrialist or the merchant. Because his function is more directly connected with the requirements of the production job itself, his commands bear the mark of greater objectivity. His subordinates recognize that at least some of his orders are in the nature of things and therefore rational in a universal sense. But at bottom this rationality, too, pertains to domination, not reason. The engineer is not interested in understanding things for their own sake or the sake of insight, but in accordance to their being fitted into a scheme, no matter how alien to their own inner structure; this holds for living beings as well as for inanimate things. The engineer’s mind is that of industrialism in its streamlined form. His purposeful rule would make men an agglomeration of instruments without a purpose of their own.

This paragraph sums up much of what Horkheimer stands for. His criticism of engineers, the catalysts of industrialism, is not that they are incorrect. It is that their instrumental rationality is not humanely purposeful.

This humane purposefulness, for Horkheimer, is born out of individual contemplation. Though he recognizes that this has been a standpoint of the privileged (c.f. Arendt on the Greek polis), he sees industrialism as successful in bringing many people out of a place of necessity but at the cost of marginalizing and trivializing all individual contemplation. The result is an efficient machine with nobody in charge. This bodes ill because such a machine is vulnerable to being co-opted by an irrational despot or charlatan. Individuality, free of material necessity and also free of the machine that liberated it from that necessity, is the origin of moral judgement that prevents fascist rule.

This is very different from the picture of individuality Fred Turner presents in The Democratic Surround. In his account of how United States propaganda created a “national character” that was both individual enough to be anti-fascist and united enough to fight fascism, he emphasizes the role of art installations that encourage the view to stitch themselves synthetically into a large picture of the nation. One is unique within a larger, diverse…well, we might use the word society, borrowing from Arendt, who was also writing in the mid-century.

If this is all true, then this dates a transition in American culture from one of individuality to one of society. This coincides with the tendency of information organization traced assiduously by Beniger.

We can perhaps trace an epicycle of this process in the history of the Internet. In it’s “wild west” early days, when John Perry Barlow could write about the freedom of cyberspace, it was a place primarily occupied by the privileged few. Interestingly, many of these were engineers, and so were (I’ll assume for the sake of argument) but materially independent and not exclusively focused on profit-making. Hence the early Internet was not unlike the ancient polis, a place where free people could attempt words and deeds that would immortalize them.

As the Internet became more widely used and commercialized, it became more and more part of the profiteering machine of capitalism. So today we see it’s wildness curtailed by the demands of society (which includes an appeal to an ethics sensitive both to disparities in wealth and differences in the body, both part of the “private” realm in antiquity but an element of public concern in modern society.)

resisting the power of organizations

“From the day of his birth, the individual is made to feel there is only one way of getting along in this world–that of giving up hope in his ultimate self-realization. This he can achieve solely by imitation. He continuously responds to what he perceives about him, not only consciously but with his whole being, emulating the traits and attitudes represented by all the collectivities that enmesh him–his play group, his classmates, his athletic team, and all the other groups that, as has been pointed out, enforce a more strict conformity, a more radical surrender through complete assimilation, than any father or teacher in the nineteenth century could impose. By echoing, repeating, imitating his surroundings, by adapting himself to all the powerful groups to which he eventually belongs, by transforming himself from a human being into a member of organizations, by sacrificing his potentialities for the sake of readiness and ability to conform to and gain influence in such organizations, he manages to survive. It is survival achieved by the oldest biological means necessary, mimicry.” – Horkheimer, “Rise and Decline of the Individual”, Eclipse of Reason, 1947

Returning to Horkheimer‘s Eclipse of Reason (1947) after studying Beniger‘s Control Revolution (1986) serves to deepen ones respect for Horkheimer.

The two writers are for the most part in agreement as to the facts. It is a testament to their significance and honesty as writers that they are not quibbling about the nature of reality but rather are reflecting seriously upon it. But whereas maintains a purely pragmatic, unideological perspective, Horkheimer (forty years earlier) correctly attributes this pragmatic perspective to the class of business managers to whom Beniger’s work is directed.

Unlike more contemporary critiques, Horkheimer’s position is not to dismiss this perspective as ideological. He is not working within the postmodern context that sees all knowledge as contestable because it is situated. Rather, he is working with the mid-20th acknowledgment that objectivity is power. This is a necessary step in the criticality of the Frankfurt School, which is concerned largely with the way (real) power shapes society and identity.

It would be inaccurate to say that Beniger celebrates the organization. His history traces the development of social organization as evolving organism. Its expanding capacity for information processing is a result of the crisis of control unleashed by the integration of its energetic constituent components. Globalization (if we can extend Beniger’s story to include globalization) is the progressive organization of organizations of organization. It is interesting that this progression of organization is a strike against Weiner’s prediction of the need for society to arm itself against entropy. This conundrum is one we will need to address in later work.

For now, it is notable that Horkheimer appears to be responding to just the same historical developments later articulated by Beniger. Only Horkeimer is writing not as a descriptive scientist but as a philosopher engaged in the process of human meaning-making. This positions him to discuss the rise and decline of the individual in the era of increasingly powerful organizations.

Horkheimer sees the individual as positioned at the nexus of many powerful organizations to which he must adapt through mimicry for the sake of survival. His authentic identity is accomplished only when alone because submission to organizational norms is necessary for survival or the accumulation of organizational power. In an era where pragmatic ability to manipulate people, not spiritual ideals, qualifies one for organization power, the submissive man represses his indignation and rage at this condition and becomes an automoton of the system.

Which system? All systems. Part of the brilliance of both Horkheimer and Beniger is their ability to generalize over many systems to see their common effect on their constituents.

I have not read Horkheimer’s solution the individual’s problem of how to maintain his individuality despite the powerful organizations which demand mimicry of him. This is a pressing question when organizations are becoming ever more powerful by using the tools of data science. My own hypotheses, which is still in need of scientific validation, is that the solution lies in the intersecting agency implied by the complex topology of the organization of organizations.

I really like Beniger

I’ve been a fan of Castells for some time but reading Ampuja and Koivisto’s critique of him is driving home my new appreciation of Beniger‘s The Control Revolution (1986).

One reason why I like Beniger is that his book is an account of social history and its relationship with technology that is firmly grounded in empirically and formally validated scientific theory. That is, rather than using as a baseline any political ideological framework, Beniger grounds his analysis in an understanding of the algorithm based in Church and Turing, and understanding of biological evolution grounded in biology, and so on.

This allows him to extend ideas about programming and control from DNA to culture to bureaucracy to computers in a way that is straightforward and plausible. His goal is, admirably, to get people to see the changes that technology drives in society as a continuation of a long regular process rather than a reason to be upset or a transformation to hype up.

I think there is something fundamentally correct about this approach. I mean that with the full force of the word correct. I want to go so far as to argue that Beniger (at least as of Chapter 3…) is an unideological theory of history and society that is grounded in generalizable and universally valid scientific theory.

I would be interested to read a substantive critique of Beniger arguing otherwise. Does anybody know if one exists?

Beniger on anomie and technophobia

The School of Information Classics group has moved on to a new book: James Beniger’s 1986 The Control Revolution: Technological and Economic Origins of the Information Society. I’m just a few chapters in but already it is a lucid and compelling account of how the societal transformations due to information technology that are announced bewilderingly every decade are an extension of a process that began in the Industrial Revolution and just has not stopped.

It’s a dense book with a lot of interesting material in it. One early section discusses Durkheim’s ideas about the division of labor and its effect on society.

In a nutshell, the argument is that with industrialization, barriers to transportation and communication break down and local markets merge into national and global markets. This induces cycles of market disruption where because producers and consumers cannot communicate directly, producers need to “trust to chance” by embracing a potentially limitless market. This creates and unregulated economy prone to crisis. This sounds a little like venture capital fueled Silicon Valley.

The consequence of greater specialization and division of labor is a greater need for communication between the specialized components of society. This is the problem of integration, and it affects both the material and the social. The specifically, the magnitude and complexity of material flows result in a sharpening division of labor. When properly integrated, the different ‘organs’ of society gain in social solidarity. But if communication between the organs is insufficient, then the result is a pathological breakdown of norms and sense of social purpose: anomie.

The state of anomie is impossible wherever solidary organs are sufficiently in contact or sufficiently prolonged. In effect, being continguous, they are quickly warned, in each circumstance, of the need which they have of one another, and, consequently, they have a lively and continuous sentiment of their mutual dependence… But, on the contrary, if some opaque environment is interposed, then only stimuli of a certain intensity can be communicated from one organ to another. Relations, being rare, are not repeated enough to be determined; each time there ensues new groping. The lines of passage taken by the streams of movement cannot deepen because the streams themselves are too intermittent. If some rules do come to constitute them, they are, however, general and vague.

An interesting question is to what extent Beniger’s thinking about the control revolution extend to today and the future. An interesting sub-question is to what extent Durkheim’s thinking is relevant today or in the future. I’ll hazard a guess that’s informed partly by Adam Elkus’s interesting thoughts about pervasive information asymmetry.

An issue of increasing significance as communication technology improves is that the bottlenecks to communication become less technological and more about our limitations as human beings to sense, process, and emit information. These cognitive limitations are being overwhelmed by the technologically enabled access to information. Meanwhile, there is a division of labor between those that do the intellectually demanding work of creating and maintaining technology and those that do the intellectually demanding work of creating and maintaining cultural artifacts. As intellectual work demands the specialization of limited cognitive resources, this results in conflicts of professional identity due to anomie.

Long story short: Anomie is why academic politics are so bad. It’s also why conferences specializing in different intellectual functions can harbor a kind of latent animosity towards each other.

a brief comment on feminist epistemology

One funny thing about having a blog is that I can tell when people are interested in particular posts through the site analytics. To my surprise, this post about Donna Haraway has been getting an increasing number of hits each month since I posted it. That is an indication that it has struck a chord, since steady exogenous growth like that is actually quite rare.

It is just possible that this means that people interested in feminist epistemology have been reading my blog lately. They probably have correctly guessed that I have not been the biggest fan of feminist epistemology because of concerns about bias.

But I’d like to take the opportunity to say that my friend Rachel McKinney has been recommending I read Elizabeth Anderson‘s stuff if I want to really get to know this body of theory. Since Rachel is an actual philosopher and I am an amateur who blogs about it on weekends, I respect her opinion on this a great deal.

So today I started reading through Anderson’s Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy article on Feminist Epistemology and I have to say I think it’s very good. I like her treatment of the situated knower. It’s also nice to learn that there are alternative feminist epistemologies to certain standpoint theories that I think are troublesome. In particular, it turns out that those standpoint theories are now considered by feminist philosophers to from a brief period in the 80’s that they’ve moved past already! Now subaltern standpoints are considered privileged in terms of discovery more than privileged in terms of justification.

This position is certainly easier to reconcile with computational methods. For example, it’s in a sense just mathematically mathematically correct if you think about it in terms of information gain from a sample. This principle appears to have been rediscovered in a way recently by the equity-in-data-science people when people talk about potential classifier error.

I’ve got some qualms about the articulation of this learning principle in the absence of a particular inquiry or decision problem because I think there’s still a subtle shift in the argumentation from logos to ethos embedded in there (I’ve been seeing things through the lens of Aristotelian rhetoric lately and it’s been surprisingly illuminating). I’m on the lookout for a concrete application of where this could apply in a technical domain, as opposed to as an articulation of a political affinity or anxiety in the language of algorithms. I’d be grateful for links in the comments.

Edit:

Wait, maybe I already built one. I am not sure if that really counts.

scale and polemic

I love a good polemic but lately I have been disappointed by polemics as a genre because they generally don’t ground themselves on data at a suitable scale.

When people try to write about a social problem, they are likely to use potent examples as a rhetorical device. Their particular ideological framing of a situation will be illustrated by compelling stories that are easy to get emotional about. This is often considered to be the hallmark of A Good Presentation, or Good Writing. Somebody will say about some group X, “Group X is known for doing bad things. Here’s an example.”

There are some problems with this approach. If there are a lot of people in Group X, then there can be a lot of variance within that group. So providing just a couple examples really doesn’t tell you about the group as a whole. In fact, this is a great way to get a biased view of Group X.

There are consequences to this kind of rhetoric. Once there’s a narrative with a compelling example illustrating it, that spreads that way of framing things as an ideology. Then, because of the well-known problem of confirmation bias, people that have been exposed to that ideology will start to see more examples of that ideology everywhere.

Add to that stereotype threat and suddenly you’ve got an explanation for why so many political issues are polarized and terrible.

Collecting more data and providing statistical summaries of populations is a really useful remedy to this. While often less motivating than a really well told story of a person’s experience, it has the benefit of being more accurate in the sense of showing the diversity of perspectives there are about something.

Unfortunately, we like to hear stories so much that we will often only tell people about statistics on large populations if they show a clear trend one way or another. People that write polemics want to be able to say, “Group X has 20% more than Group Y in some way,” and talk about why. It’s not considered an interesting result if it turns out the data is just noise, that Group X and Group Y aren’t really that different.

We also aren’t good at hearing stories about how much variance there is in data. Maybe on average Group X has 20% more than Group Y in some way. But what if these distributions are bimodal? Or if one is more varied than the other? What does that mean, narratively?

It can be hard to construct narrations that are not about what can be easily experienced in one moment but rather are about the experiences of lots of people over lots of moments. The narrative form is very constraining because it doesn’t capture the reality of phenomena of great scale and complexity. Things of great scale and complexity can be beautiful but hard to talk about. Maybe talking about them is a waste of time, because that’s not a good way to understand them.

formalizing the cultural observer

I’m taking a brief break from Horkheimer because he is so depressing and because I believe the second half of Eclipse of Reason may include new ideas that will take energy to internalize.

In the meantime, I’ve rediscovered Soren Brier’s Cybersemiotics: Why Information Is Not Enough! (2008), which has remained faithfully on my desk for months.

Brier is concerned with the possibility of meaning generally, and attempts to synthesize the positions of Pierce (recall: philosophically disliked by Horkheimer as a pragmatist), Wittgenstein (who first was an advocate of the formalization of reason and language in his Tractatus, then turned dramatically against it in his Philosophical Investigations), second-order cyberneticists like Varela and Maturana, and the social theorist Niklas Luhmann.

Brier does not make any concessions to simplicity. Rather, his approach is to begin with the simplest theories of communication (Shannon) and show where each fails to account for a more complex form of interaction between more completely defined organisms. In this way, he reveals how each simpler form of communication is the core around which a more elaborate form of meaning-making is formed. He finally arrives at a picture of meaning-making that encompasses all of reality, including that which can be scientifically understood, but one that is necessarily incomplete and an open system. Meaning is all-pervading but never all-encompassing.

One element that makes meaning more complex than simple Shannon-esque communication is the role of the observer, who is maintained semiotically through an accomplishment of self-reference through time. This observer is a product of her own contingency. The language she uses is the result of nature, AND history, AND her own lived life. There is a specificity to her words and meanings that radiates outward as she communicates, meanings that interact in cybernetic exchange with the specific meanings of other speakers/observers. Language evolves in an ecology of meaning that can only poorly be reflected back upon the speaker.

What then can be said of the cultural observer, who carefully gathers meanings, distills them, and expresses new ones conclusively? She is a cybernetic captain, steering the world in one way or another, but only the world she perceives and conceives. Perhaps this is Haraway’s cyborg, existing in time and space through a self-referential loop, reinforced by stories told again and again: “I am this, I am this, I am this.” It is by clinging to this identity that the cyborg achieves the partiality glorified by Haraway. It is also this identity that positions her as an antagonist as she must daily fight the forces of entropy that would dissolve her personality.

Built on cybernetic foundations, does anything in principle prevent the formalization and implementation of Brier’s semiotic logic? What would a cultural observer that stands betwixt all cultures, looming like a spider on the webs of communication that wrap the earth at inconceivable scale? Without the same constraints of partiality of one human observer, belonging to one culture, what could such a robot scientist see? What meaning would they make for themselves or intend?

This is not simply an issue of the interpretability of the algorithms used by such a machine. More deeply, it is the problem that these machines do not speak for themselves. They have no self-reference or identity, and so do not participate in meaning-making except instrumentally as infrastructure. This cultural observer that is in the position to observe culture in the making without the limits of human partiality for now only serves to amplify signal or dampen noise. The design is incomplete.

“Conflicting panaceas”; decapitation and dogmatism in cultural studies counterpublics

I’m still reading through Horkheimer’s Eclipse of Reason. It is dense writing and slow going. I’m in the middle of the second chapter, “Conflicting Panaceas”.

This chapter recognizes and then critiques a variety of intellectual stances of his contemporaries. Whereas in the first chapter Horkheimer takes aim at pragmatism, in this he concerns himself with neo-Thomism and positivism.

Neo-Thomism? Yes, that’s right. Apparently in 1947 one of the major intellectual contenders was a school of thought based on adapting the metaphysics of Saint Thomas Aquinas to modern times. This school of thought was apparently notable enough that while Horkheimer is generally happy to call out the proponents of pragmatism and positivism by name and call them business interest lapdogs, he chooses instead to address the neo-Thomists anonymously in a conciliatory footnote

This important metaphysical school includes some of the most responsible historians and writers of our day. The critical remarks here bear exclusively on the trend by which independent philosophical thought is being superseded by dogmatism.

In a nutshell, Horkheimer’s criticism of neo-Thomism is that it is that since it tries and fails to repurpose old ontologies to the new world, it can’t fulfill its own ambitions as an intellectual system through rigor without losing the theological ambitions that motivate it, the identification of goodness, power, and eternal law. Since it can’t intellectually culminate, it becomes a “dogmatism” that can be coopted disingenuously by social forces.

This is, as I understand it, the essence of Horkheimer’s criticism of everything: That for any intellectual trend or project, unless the philosophical project is allowed to continue to completion within it, it will have its brains slurped out and become zombified by an instrumentalist capitalism that threatens to devolve into devastating world war. Hence, just as neo-Thomism becomes a dogmatism because it would refute itself if it allowed its logic to proceed to completion, so too does positivism become a dogmatism when it identifies the truth with disciplinarily enforced scientific methods. Since, as Horkheimer points out in 1947, these scientific methods are social processes, this dogmatic positivism is another zombie, prone to fads and politics not tracking truth.

I’ve been struggling over the past year or so with similar anxieties about what from my vantage point are prevailing intellectual trends of 2014. Perversely, in my experience the new intellectual identities that emerged to expose scientific procedures as social processes in the 20th century (STS) and establish rhetorics of resistance (cultural studies) have been similarly decapitated, recuperated, and dogmatic. [see 1 2 3].

Are these the hauntings of straw men? This is possible. Perhaps the intellectual currents I’ve witnessed are informal expressions, not serious intellectual work. But I think there is a deeper undercurrent which has turned up as I’ve worked on a paper resulting from this conversation about publics. It hinges on the interpretation of an influential article by Fraser in which she contests Habermas’s notion of the public sphere.

In my reading, Fraser more or less maintains the ideal of the public sphere as a place of legitimacy and reconciliation. For her it is notably inequitable, it is plural not singular, the boundaries of what is public and private are in constant negotiation, etc. But its function is roughly the same as it is for Habermas.

My growing suspicion is that this is not how Fraser is used by cultural studies today. This suspicion began when Fraser was introduced to me; upon reading her work I did not find the objection implicit in the reference to her. It continued as I worked with the comments of a reviewer on a paper. It was recently confirmed while reading Chris Wisniewski’s “Digital Deliberation ?” in Critical Review, vol 25, no. 2, 2013. He writes well:

The cultural-studies scholars and critical theorists interested in diversifying participation through the Internet have made a turn away from this deliberative ideal. In an essay first published in 1990, the critical theorist Nancy Fraser (1999, 521) rejects the idealized model of bourgeois public sphere as defined by Habermas on the grounds that it is exclusionary by design. Because the bourgeois public sphere brackets hierarchies of gender, race, ethnicity, class, etc., Fraser argues, it benefits the interests of dominant groups by default through its elision of socially significant inequalities. Lacking the ability to participate in the dominant discourse, disadvantaged groups establish alternative “subaltern counterpublics”.

Since the ideal speech situation does not acknowledge the socially significant inequalities that generate these counterpublics, Fraser argues for a different goal: a model of participatory democracy in which intercultural communications across socially stratified groups occur in forums that do not elide differences but intead allow diverse multiple publics the opportunity to determine the concerns or good of the public as a whole through “discursive contestations.” Fraser approaches thes subgroups as identity publics and argues that culture and political debate are essentially power struggles among self-interested subgroups. Fraser’s ideas are similar to those prevalent in cultural studies (see Wisneiwski 2007 and 2010), a relatively young discipline in which her work has been influential.

Fraser’s theoretical model is inconsistent with studies of democratic voting behavior, which indicate that people tend to vote sociotropically, according to a perceived collective interest, and not in facor of their own perceived self-interest (e.g., Kinder and Kiewiet 1981). The argument that so-called “mass” culture excludes the interests of dominated groups in favor of the interests of the elites loses some of its valence if culture is not a site through which self-interested groups vie for their objective interests, but is rather a forum in which democratic citizens debate what constitutes, and the best way to achieve, the collective good. Diversification of discourse ceases to be an end in itself.”

I think Wisneiwski hits the nail on the head here, a nail I’d like to drive in farther. If culture is conceived of as consisting of the contests of self-interested identity groups, as this version of cultural studies does, then it will necessarily see itself as one of many self-interested identities. Cultural studies becomes, by its own logic, a counterpublic that exists primarily to advance its own interests.

But just like neo-Thomism, this positioning decapitates cultural studies by preventing it from intellectually confronting its own limitations. No identity can survive rigorous intellectual interrogation, because all identities are based on contingency, finitude, and trauma. Cultural studies adopt and repurpose historical rhetorics of liberation much like neo-Thomists adopted and repurposed historical metaphysics of Christianity. The obsolescence of these rhetorics, like the obsolescence of Thomistic metaphysics, is what makes them dangerous. The rhetoric that maintains its own subordination as a condition of its own identity can never truly liberate, it can only antagonize. Unable to intellectually realize its own purpose, it becomes purposeless and hence coopted and recuperated like other dogmatisms. In particular, it feeds into “the politicization of absolutely everything”, in the language of Ezra Klein’s spot-on analysis of GamerGate. Cultural studies is a powerful ideology because it turns culture into a field of perpetual rivalry with all the distracting drama of reality television. In so doing, it undermines deeper intellectual penetration into the structural conditions of society.

If cultural studies is the neo-Thomism of today, a dogmatist religious revival of the profound theology of the civil rights movement, perhaps it’s the theocratic invocation of ‘algorithms’ that is the new scientism. I would have more to say about it if it weren’t so similar to the old scientism.