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410 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 1995
Normality and rationality are always partial and provisional, permanently subject to confirmation. There is nothing to say that the supposedly ‘'normal' or 'rational' is guaranteed a future. Even incomplete, normality remains normality, and poses the problem of its criterion. If God is indeed dead, and science does not dictate moral standards, only two solutions remain. Either the judgement of History returns surreptitiously to pronounce the closing words of the fable; or a class standpoint determines 'its' norm in self-referential fashion. In this instance, we are dealing not with a transcendental normality but with an immanent rationality giving expression, in the mode of strategic choice, to a desirable state of affairs that is simultaneously an optative necessity and an effective possibility.
The last hypothesis seems to accord better with Marx’s problematic.
If we must hit upon a definition of classes at any price, we should search (and search hard) for it in Lenin, rather than Marx:
'Classes are large groups of people differing from each other by the place they occupy in a historically determined system of social production, by their relation (in most cases fixed and formulated in law) to the means of production, by their role in the social organisation of labour, and, consequently, by the dimensions of the share of social income of which they dispose and the mode of acquiring it.'
Wresting Marx from his Hegelian roots to install him in the normality of modern science is a nonsense. His 'scientific' practice, disconcerting in many respects, makes him the 'original metaphysical author of his own positive science', 'a scientist who evinces the unusual peculiarity of being the author of his own metaphysics, a general and explicit vision of reality'. Marx's initial internal rupture with the dominant image of science—his characterization of political economy as 'infamy' in 1844—would have remained sterile without the Hegelian rejuvenation of 1858.
Contrary to what Sacristan claims, this 'return' does not, for all that, signify a definitive transcendence of 'critique' in the direction of 'German science', a variety of general epistemology or rationalized metaphysics. Its preservation in the subtitle of Capital bears witness to an unresolved theoretical tension. Marx remained torn between the fecundity of positive science and the persistent dissatisfaction of dialectical knowledge. 'Critique' makes it possible to reconcile the two. Was this a bad compromise, or healthy resistance restraining instrumental reason on the slope of its own fetishization?
If it is no longer a question of merely interpreting the world, what is at stake? Changing it, of course. Marx sometimes seems to anticipate philosophy becoming a science, as if the positive certainty of the Enlightenment was due to prevail conclusively over the obscure uncertainties of hermeneutics. His preface to Capital thus begins by paying homage to the natural laws of physics, but concludes by emphasizing the polemical character of knowledge as a social product: 'In the domain of political economy, free scientific inquiry does not merely meet the same enemies as in all other domains.' A prisoner of earthly constraints, this free inquiry remains, in accordance with heroic images of science and scientists, squarely on the battlefield, where it encounters 'the most violent, sordid and malignant passions of the human breast, the Furies of private interest'. Scientific in a certain sense and to a certain extent, the critique of political economy is thus condemned to confronting the ideological illusions of opinion, without itself being able to escape the snares of fetishism completely. It evokes and calls for the subtleties of a future 'organic mechanism', the undulating knowledge of an ordered disorder—in short, a different way of doing science.