Erudite writing.
Who really are 'the people'? And what operative of discursive power circumscribes 'the people' at any given moment, and for what purpose?
In a time when neoliberal economics increasingly structures public services and institutions, including schools and universities, in a time when people are losing their homes, their pensions, and prospects for work in increasing numbers, we are faced in a new way with the idea that some populations are considered disposable. These developments, bolstered by prevailing attitudes toward health insurance and social security, suggest that market rationality is deciding whose health and life should be protected and whose health and life should not. Of course, there are differences between policies that explicitly seek the deaths of certain populations and policies that produce conditions of systematic negligence that effectively let people die. Foucault helped us to articulate this distinction when he spoke of the very specific strategies of biopower, the management of life and death in ways that no longer require a sovereign who explicitly decides and enforces the question of who will live and who will die.
We are in the midst of a biopolitical situation in which diverse populations are increasingly subject to what is called 'precaritization.' Usually induced and reproduced by governmental and economic institutions, this process acclimatizes populations over time to insecurity and hopelessness; it is structured into the institutions of temporary labor and decimated social services and the general attrition of the active remnants of social democracy in favor of entrepreneurial modalities supported by fierce ideologies of individual responsibility and the obligation to maximize one's own market value as the ultimate aim in life.
Precaritization is supplemented by an understanding of precarity as effecting a change in psychic reality, as implied by Lauren Berland who suggests it implies a heightened sense of expendability or disposability that is differentially distributed throughout society.
The fantasy of an individual capable of undertaking entrepreneurial self-making under conditions of accelerating precarity, if not destitution, makes the uncanny assumption that people can, and must, act in autonomous ways under conditions where life has become unlivable. The thesis of this book is that none of us acts without the conditions to act, even though sometimes we must act to install and preserve those very conditions.
'The people' are not just produced by their vocalized claims, but also by the conditions of possibility of their appearance, and so within the visual field, and by their actions, and so as part of embodied performance.
On the one hand, everyone is dependent on social relations and enduring infrastructure to maintain a livable life, so there is no getting rid of that dependency. On the other hand, that dependency, though not the same as a condition of subjugation, can easily become one. The dependency of human creatures on sustaining and supporting infrastructural life shows that the organization of infrastructure is intimately tied with an enduring sense of individual life: how life is endured, and with what degree of suffering, livability, or hope.
In other words, no one person suffers a lack of shelter without there being a social failure to organize shelter in such a way that it is accessible to each and every person.
I suggest that the 'life' one has to lead is always a social life, implicating us in a larger social, economic, and infrastructural world that exceeds our perspective and the situated, first-person modality of ethical questioning. For this reason, I argue that ethical questions are invariable implicated in social and economic ones, although they are not extinguished by those concerns. Indeed, the very conception of human action as pervasively conditioned implies that when we ask the basic ethical and political question, how ought I to act, we implicitly reference the conditions of the world that make that act possible, or as is increasingly the case under conditions of precarity, that undermine the conditions of acting. What does it mean to act together when the conditions for acting together are devastated or falling away? Such an impasse can become the paradoxical condition of a form of social solidarity both mournful and joyful, a gathering enacted by bodies under duress or in the name of duress, where the gathering itself signifies persistence and resistance.
It is no accident that God is generally credited with the first performative: Let there be light -- and then suddenly light there is.
When up against violent attack or extreme threats, many people in the first Egyptian revolution of 2009 chanted the word silmiyya, which comes from the root ver salima, which means 'to be safe and sound,' unharmed, unimpaired, intact, and secure, but also 'blameless,' faultless, and yet also 'to be certain,' established, clearly proven. The term comes from the noun silm, which means 'peace,' but also interchangeably and significantly, 'the religion of Islam.' Most usually, the chanting of silmiyya comes across as a gentle exhortation: 'peaceful, peaceful.' The collective chant was a way of encouraging people to resist the mimetic pull of military aggression -- and the aggression of the gangs -- by keeping in mind the larger goal: radical democratic change. To be swept into a violent exchange of the moment was to lose the patience needed to realize the revolution. What interests me here is the chant, the way in which language worked not to incite an action, but to restrain one: a restraint in the name of an emerging community of equals whose primary way of doing politics would not be violence.
Our shared exposure to precarity is but one ground of our potential equality and our reciprocal obligations to produce together conditions of livable life. In avowing the need we have for one another, we avow as well basic principles that inform the social, democratic conditions of what we might still call 'the good life.' These are critical conditions of democratic life in the sense that they are part of an ongoing crisis, but also because they belong to a form of thinking and acting that responds to the urgencies of our time.