The time(s) of our lives

The overarching theme

It is certainly not surprising to find that consideration of this general topic of ‘the time(s) of our lives’ has given rise to a large array of topics, theoretical approaches and arguments, a variety clearly visible in the contents page for this Special Issue. However, a certain general theme can nonetheless be discovered across the various contributions, which lends considerable coherence, unity, and interest to the collection as a whole. The theme has two parts, both of which are reflected in the volume’s contributions. The first expresses the character of reason and its use, whereas the second reflects a particular disposition with respect to this character.

The first idea is that reason is both determined by its particular temporal moment (or context) while also exceeding or determining that moment (through critique), an idea reflected in the sub-title of this issue: ‘Contexts and critique’. In other words, reason is both produced by its context while also able to transcend or emancipate itself from this context. Although not all contributions to the issue focus specifically on ‘reason’ as such, the idea is nonetheless explored with respect to a web of concepts often associated with the term, including, for example, the notion of a free activity of critique, the concept the modern as opposed to the pre- or anti-modern, and the ideals of autonomy as opposed to heteronomy, of authenticity contrasted with inauthenticity, of creativity and ‘thoughtful doing’ in opposition to pre-determination, and so on.

The next feature that unites the contributions of this issue is the disposition or attitude that each author assumes with regard to reason’s temporal character. In exploring the production of reason (or its web of associated concepts) within particular times, and in isolating ways in which such reason is subordinate to contextual structural relations, one might expect our authors to end up ceding the notion of progress in time, giving up the very possibility of a critique oriented to emancipation or transcendence, and relinquishing all hope for improving our times. As previously indicated, the conferences from which these papers are drawn invited contributions that ‘fracture or wound … any sense of our times as stable, progressive, and improving’. It is interesting, then, that a disposition of pessimism does not mark this issue. The awareness of reason’s entanglement with power does not prevent the authors from nonetheless maintaining an optimistic disposition, retaining a commitment to the possibility of engaging in critique and of overcoming pre-modern or hierarchical ideas, on the one hand, while nonetheless attempting to distance themselves from naive claims about achieving reason in history, on the other. We will notice that our authors continue to attempt to delineate freedom from oppression, designating as valuable and worthy of effort ideas such as autonomy, self-determination, authenticity, creativity, and uniqueness. That said, the various analyses presented in this issue of ‘the times of our lives’ are nonetheless informed by deep reservations not only about the extent to which reason in time has thus far been achieved but also about the very possibility of ever being able to determine in advance (let alone achieve in practice) an ideal ‘time’ around which to structure our lives.

Consequently, the questions that motivate this issue tend to revolve around the possibility of creating new or better worlds, within contexts that pre-determine the nature and limits of such effort, and in the absence of strong normative and substantive accounts of social progress.

The theme at work in an analysis of contemporary contexts

In exploring the ways in which reason (or its associated concepts) is produced within a context, while also exceeding and determining that context, the authors retain their hope that practices of critique can nonetheless produce better worlds in response to the numerous problems and questions associated with the project of modernity.

The shadow of colonialism and its affiliation with linear accounts of historical progress provides the backdrop for Amy Allen’s entry into the debate. Allen’s concern is that narrow accounts of rationality (embodied in the approaches of critical theorists like Habermas) give rise to linear accounts of progress in time that prevent us from noticing the ways in which the use of reason has become entangled with the phenomenon of colonization. For example, Habermas’ account of rationality allows us to say that a society is more developed if it allows individuals to develop their universal human capacity for reason, freely exchanging their reasons, and arriving at uncoerced agreement. Through such endeavours, a society is seen to embody the rationality of individuals as part of a socio-cultural learning process, which then allows Habermas to designate modern, scientific and liberal societies as more rational and developed than their colonized counterparts. Allen, however, is concerned that such a tendency obstructs critical reflection on the complicity of certain forms of reason in the structures of power and domination that characterize colonization processes. Adorno and Horkheimer’s dark and brooding work, Dialectic of Enlightenment, allows Amy Allen to instead put forward a more nuanced account of reason in its relation to power, arguing that enlightenment in history is best understood as a productive movement between a commitment to the project of reason and its emancipatory aspirations, on the one hand, and a sensitivity to the way that power and domination precede and constitute reason, on the other. This account of embedded reason allows Allen to reject popular linear accounts of rational historical progress, while nonetheless retaining the desire to employ reason in the ongoing critical pursuit of socio-cultural development in history.

Allen’s qualified and guarded optimism in reason’s ability to engage in its own self-critique is the focus of Miriam Bankovsky’s contribution, which considers the located nature of critical theory, exploring avenues for critique to become more aware of the conditions and stakes of its production. Explicitly pursuing the two questions that Allen opens for consideration, Bankovsky asks, first, how individuals might seek emancipation through their reason, given that reason cannot transcend contexts of power, and second, how best to practise critical theory, given that its analyses and categories cannot rid themselves of contexts of domination. Regarding the first, where Allen suggests that emancipation requires the committed efforts of creative individuals to identify and undo structures of domination, Bankovsky notes that one-sided individual effort is rarely sufficient when faced with deep-seated relations of power. Instead, committed individuals need to be supported in their endeavours by others who, in accommodating relationships, generously make place for the self-expression of the oppressed. Bankovsky explores the sorts of civic attitudes that might enable this to occur, by focusing on the means by which Derrida and Habermas transform their initially polemic relation into a series of generous encounters. Regarding the second question, the future of critical theory, Bankovsky extends Allen’s hopes for a post-Habermasian phase of critical theory by drawing on trends in contemporary French philosophy to indicate avenues for engaging in ongoing critique which attempts to retain a critical perspective with respect to its own stakes.

The question of the difference between modernity and the pre- or anti-modern, as it concerns the production of human suffering, drives Matthew Sharpe’s consideration of ‘the times of our lives’, which shares Amy Allen’s concern that linear accounts of history oriented to a particular ideal of a perfect world so often ignore the ways in which ‘progress’ brings about the production of human suffering. Sharpe develops this point by identifying the reasons why Albert Camus distances himself, on the one hand, from the ‘salvationist’ character of modern ideologies, which involve a linear and teleological account of history that often disregards human suffering as an inevitable or even necessary side-effect of historical progress. For example, although Stalinism qualifies as modern in its attempt to design a moral form of society in which all individuals are materially equal, it too easily justifies the need for human suffering in attaining its end. Similarly, liberalism’s effort to ascribe equal basic liberties to all individuals also overlooks forms of suffering that arise when large socio-economic inequalities arise from the use of equal basic liberties. That said, Sharpe also argues (against Srigley) that Camus is not, for all that, uncompromisingly anti-modern. Rather, Camus’ critique of modernity’s implication in human suffering does not prevent him from affirming the inalienable dignity of human subjects (a legitimating core of the modern age), refusing to accept worldly human suffering, and consequently defending the idea of modern rebellion, the very aspect of Stalinist modernity that Camus also wants to critique. In this way, we discover, in Sharpe’s account of Camus’ ambivalent relation to modernity, the dual-edged theme of the Special Issue. Although, on one hand, Camus is wary of the complicity of modernity in the production of human suffering in precise contexts (which undermines the clear distinction between the modern and the pre- or anti-modern), he nonetheless remains committed to the modern ideal, displaying the qualified optimism that marks the contributions to this issue.

Through an analysis of Castoriadis’ account of the creativity of ‘thoughtful doing’ or the ‘autonomy of significance’, Toula Nicolacopoulos and George Vassilacopoulos provide their own insights into the possibility of a context-dependent and yet creative reason, which also allows for a critique of blind submission to other forms of authority (including religion and the drive to accumulate capital). They argue, first, that Castoriadis himself provides insights into the nature of such creativity by contrasting it with the ‘heteronomy of significance’. Where the ‘autonomy of significance’ (or the creativity of ‘thoughtful doing’) creates history, from Chaos, as something new and significant, the ‘heteronomy of significance’ (best understood by reference to religion) denies its creativity by misrepresenting itself as receiving significance from some form of extra-social source (denying the reality of Chaos). However, Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos argue, second, that Castoriadis’ idea of the creativity of ‘thoughtful doing’ (or the ‘autonomy of significance’) needs further refining, to prevent it from simply collapsing into blind acceptance of the contemporary drive for capitalist accumulation (of knowledge, property and the like). The authors offer this refinement by contrasting Castoriadis’ defence of the creativity of ‘thoughtful doing’ not just to the aforementioned ‘heteronomy of significance’ but also to what they refer to as the ‘heteronomy of insignificance’. When exemplified in a subject, the ‘heteronomy of insignificance’ neither wills a significance created from itself (the ‘autonomy of significance’ or the creativity of ‘thoughtful doing’) nor wills a significance received from an extra-social source such as religion (the ‘heteronomy of significance’) but rather uncritically wills merely the dominant practices of its world (the property owner’s practices of consumption and exchange in global capitalism). In further refining Castoriadis’ account of the creativity of ‘thoughtful doing’ to distinguish it from the blind acceptance of extra-social or religious sources of significance and the uncritical drive to accumulate capital (which characterizes our contemporary times), the contribution of Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos overlaps with Amy Allen’s critique of linear accounts of progress in time, and Sharpe’s account of Camus’ wariness of the complicity of modernity in the production of human suffering. In line with the theme of the Special Issue, Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos are critical of the reproduction of heteronomous forms of reason (including religion and capitalism), while also attempting to indicate avenues for creative thinking.

Focusing on the emergence of European right-wing countercultures, with particular attention to Anders Behring Breivik’s condemnation of cultural Marxism, Islam and feminism in the manifesto that motivated the terrorist attacks in Norway on 22 July 2011, Ellen Mortensen’s article also reflects ambivalence with respect to the modern concept of reason, in its ability to overcome oppression and subordination. On the one hand, Mortensen does suggest that a problem with such counter-cultures is their reversion to pre-modern accounts of the social world, which are both masculinist and hierarchical, and this implies a certain commitment, on her part, to the modern concept of reason. However, on the other hand, using the work of Luce Irigaray, Mortensen also suggests that the logic of terror is not just the denial of reason but also the denial of different reasons, and this reflects her view that the modern concept of reason is too ‘universalist’ in its pretentions, leading not just to the oppression of the difference of the colonized (Amy Allen’s concern), but also to the oppression of sexual difference. Instead, on the basis of her reference to Irigaray, and in defending the need for a culture of difference which includes sexuate difference, Mortensen appears to commit to one of the conceptualizations of reason that modernity makes possible, namely, embodied reason, in contrast to the idea of reason as abstract and universal in its use by humans.

Exploring the means by which authentic individuation is possible within a particular age, Jean-Philippe Deranty’s account of identity construction also encapsulates the issue’s major theme, namely, that individuation is both determined by its temporal moment (or context) while also exceeding or determining that moment, revealing insights about humanity that are no longer limited to a particular context alone. For Deranty, identity construction is agonistic, rooted in a particular age (as conceptualized by the developmental approach), while also transcending that age (as captured by the existential idea of authentic ecstasy). Using the poetic work of Morrissey (The Smiths) as a case in point, Deranty demonstrates that the tension between construction and authenticity is most clearly visible in late adolescence and early adulthood. Focusing on Morrissey’s expression of his desires and anxieties during this period, Deranty argues that violence and cruelty provide a backdrop against which Morrissey is able to express forms of understanding and self-understanding that are both unique and also world-disclosing. It is in this way that the individual is able to construct an authentic identity reflecting insights back into the world, in spite of the enrooted nature of identity construction.

Returning to the sorts of reflections with which Allen and Bankovsky began, Mark Kelly considers the question of how to practise a critique of the present, in the absence of strong normative claims about the ideal nature of the future. His contribution falls within the general theme of the Special Issue, as it optimistically develops an account of the possibility of critique faced with an undetermined and indeterminable future, attempting to avoid the pitfalls of prophecy and utopianism. Following Foucault, Kelly asks us to jettison both prophecy (the claim to know the truth of what will happen) and utopianism (the positing of a contingent vision of the future), since both involve projecting a determined form on an indeterminate future. Prophecy should be jettisoned because one cannot ever be sure of what the future holds, and utopianism should be rejected because one cannot know whether it is possible to produce the utopia, nor whether one’s utopia is really as desirable as it might appear to be. Kelly suggests, instead, that both prophecy and utopianism should be understood as forms of discourse which circulate in the present, and which have effects in the present and on the future, but in a manner that cannot be self-fulfilling. In contrast, Kelly favours a mode of critique that he refers to as parrhesia, that is, a critical-political mode of engagement with the present that does not involve a determinate vision of the future. It instead explores problems in their complexity, suggesting ways to negate or overcome certain features of the present, all the while bracketing the question of whether such struggle might actually terminate in a better world. This is a form of critique that posits neither knowledge of what will happen nor knowledge of whether that happening might eventually be desirable.

In this way, the collection situates reason (and its associated concepts) as produced by and within a context, while also attempting to identify ways in which reason might intervene in and modify its context in order to respond to perceived problems. To summarize, these include the implication of accounts of rational progress with colonialism (Allen), the complicity of modern ideologies like Stalinism and liberalism in the production of human suffering (Sharpe), the ease with which reason becomes reducible to the heteronomous submission to religion or blind acceptance of the drive to accumulate capital (Nicolacopoulos and Vassilacopoulos), the troubling emergence of right-wing counter-cultures in reaction to the perceived neutrality of universalist modern reason (Mortensen), the problem of the possibility of authentic individuation within a particular age (Deranty), and the unsettling manner in which critical theory partakes of the very practices of domination it attempts to critique (Bankovsky, Kelly). The papers thus combine to reinforce the notion that these political dimensions of time continue to serve as the legitimate focus for the ongoing redeployment of an emancipatory and critical reason. We end this guest editors’ introduction with the hope that the readers of this Special Issue will find in the contributors’ positive disposition towards reason’s temporal character, as much as in their diversely exemplified commitment to the overarching theme of the issue, useful ways of engaging our thinking on the various tensions and struggles that frame and constrain current efforts to conceive new and better worlds.