Foucault

Foucault is, as we would expect, a very unconventional historian. He is a historian of discourse, and more precisely of the discursive practices of the human sciences. He is concerned with both the internal rules and norms, the rules of exclusion and hierarchy that dictate what can be said within these discourses, and with the institutions, the material sites of the social power that envelop, legitimize, normalize, and sustain scientific discourse. In his early books, Madness and Civilization (1961; English translation, 1965) and Birth of the Clinic (1963; English translation, 1973), Foucault investigates the discourses of psychiatry and medicine and the ways in which these discourses produce, perceive, and regulate their objects, "sanity" and "health."

Foucault seeks, provocatively, to demonstrate that distinctions basic to these discourses, distinctions between madness and sanity, sickness and health, are arbitrary distinctions related not to the progress of knowledge but to new or changing social relations of exclusion and integration embedded in institutional frameworks such as asylums and clinics, whose functions were social control—normalization and administration—and were neither scientific nor humanitarian. While Foucault refuses to posit any general statement regarding the relationship between discourse and society, he appears to be reducing discourse to those social institutions and non-discursive forces that provide its material conditions of existence.

The history of madness reveals no progress in the theoretical understanding of an illness. Rather, it indicates a consistent tendency to project general social preconceptions and anxieties into theoretical frameworks that justify the confinement of whatever social groups or personality types that appear to threaten society during a particular period. The poor, the dissident, the criminal, and the insane are separated or herded together, treated as humans or as animals, confined or liberated, according to considerations that are primarily political rather than scientific.

Medical practice, Foucault argues, is similarly grounded in social concerns, the clinic and the hospital being microcosms of those attitudes toward human nature prevailing among the dominant classes of society at a given time. Small wonder that Althusser approved of these works and saw them as recognizable offspring of his own ideas. However, in his next two works, The Order of Things: An Archaeology of the Human Sciences (1966; English translation, 1973a) and The Archaeology of Knowledge (1969; English translation, 1972), Foucault shifts his perspective to the internal structural constraints of discourse alone and to a new anti-materialist methodological strategy that he calls "archaeology." Institutional and social determinations of discourse disappear, replaced by what Foucault calls an "episteme," by which he understands "the total set of relations that unite, at a given period, the discursive practices that give rise to epistemological figures, sciences, and possibly formalized systems . . . the totality of relations that can be discovered, for a given period, between the sciences when one analyzes them at the level of discursive regularities" (Foucault 1972, 191).

In The Order of Things , Foucault contrasts the four epistemic epochs of the so-called human sciences—discourses whose objects are life (biology), labor (society), and language (culture)—from the late Middle Ages to the twentieth century. The first of these, the Renaissance, was characterized by similitude, the desire to find the same within the different, the extent to which objects resemble each other and the extent to which words truly signify things. The tortuous attempt to demonstrate the similarity of things, that everything to a significant extent resembles everything else, exhausted itself by the seventeenth century.

An "archaeological shift" occurred, bringing a new episteme that dominated the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, which Foucault calls the Classical Age. The classical episteme focused on differences revealed by the Renaissance and attempted to account for them by a discursive protocol involving comparison, ordering, and representation. According to this protocol, representation is certain and logical; the principle of comparison and ordering of differences moves from the simple to the complex in a carefully calibrated system based on contiguity and continuity. The role of consciousness is one of exteriority. Mind simply observes and classifies representations that are themselves independent and immediate. Representing the essential order of things, identity and difference, means the discovery of a system of control over them.

The belief of the Classical Age was that if the correct table of relationships could be discovered, one could manipulate "life," "wealth," and "language" by manipulating the signs that signify them. However, the classical principle of order and comparison is undermined by the perception of temporality, of the differential origin of things, a perception that destroys the timeless ground of continuity and contiguity, which made things measurable and comparable. At the end of the eighteenth century another "archaeological shift" occurred, inaugurating the Modern Age, dominated by an awareness of temporality and finitude. Knowledge was problematized as thought was increasingly absorbed with the historicity of species, modes of production, and language usages.

"Man," hitherto invisible, became a knowing subject among objects and, more significantly, the object of his own historical understanding. Epistemology came into being as an attempt to discover the grounds on which representations are possible or legitimate given the finitude and limitations of the human subject. "Man" is thus no more than an epistemic creation of the Modern Age, which began with the realization of human finitude and was characterized by its attempt to overcome or transcend these limitations within the epistemic framework of the human subject—to find a ground for meaning and knowledge within what Foucault calls the "analytic of finitude."

The modern episteme has exhausted itself attempting to overcome oppositions between the transcendental form of knowing and the historical content of knowledge, between the thinking cogito and the "unthought" background that is its condition of existence, and, finally, between the historical situation of man, how man is already in history and cut off from all origins, and the historical primacy of man, that man is the agent or maker of history. As a result, Foucault concludes, the Age of Man is currently being displaced by a new, fourth age that has abandoned the analytic of finitude and accepted the disappearance of the human subject, the opacity of language, and the absence of historical meaning. Significantly, Foucault credits Nietzsche with the initial insight into the coming "post-Modern" age:

• In our day, and once again Nietzsche indicated the turning-point from a long way off, it is not so much the absence or the death of God that is affirmed as the end of man. . . . Rather than the death of God—or, rather, in the wake of that death and in a profound correlation with it—what Nietzsche's thought heralds is the end of his murderer; it is the explosion of man's face in laughter, and the return of masks; it is the scattering of the profound stream of time by which he felt himself carried along and whose pressure he suspected in the very being of things; it is the identity of the Return of the Same with the absolute dispersion of man. (Foucault 1973, 385)

escholarship.org

Here's a key point for me: "The history of madness reveals no progress in the theoretical understanding of an illness. Rather, it indicates a consistent tendency to project general social preconceptions and anxieties into theoretical frameworks that justify the confinement of whatever social groups or personality types that appear to threaten society during a particular period. The poor, the dissident, the criminal, and the insane are separated or herded together, treated as humans or as animals, confined or liberated, according to considerations that are primarily political rather than scientific. 

Medical practice, Foucault argues, is similarly grounded in social concerns, the clinic and the hospital being microcosms of those attitudes toward human nature prevailing among the dominant classes of society at a given time." I read Foucault for the first time well over a decade ago and I thought to myself, "This explains everything that has seemed completely absurd to me." The reason being is that I was raised as many Americans are raised: to believe in things as they are, that there is an inherentness to the way things are, a rightness or order in life and that things that are "bad" will be brought back into line in time to make the world balanced and good--for us (the "good" humans)--again.

The issue that I was having in "real life" was that these stories I absorbed through tellings and "showings" by parents, teachers, administrators, coaches, managers, owners, and other individuals in positions of greater social, economic, and legal power than I possessed were all being exposed as bullshit by reality. Now, it's a particular kind of hell to be a powerless child observing a world of comparatively powerful adults committing both formal and informal acts of madness and cruelty against one another and, especially, against "classes" of others (the poor, the drug addicts, the socially awkward, etc.). Life viewed through a lens in which the foundations justifying beliefs and behaviors are not only arbitrary but unexamined by "practitioners" leads to one conclusion: everyone and everything is completely absurd. 

 These memes about scientific breakthroughs and technological advancements making life better stand on no more solid ground than the idea that there is a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow being watched over by a possessive leprechaun. It's the same with health care reform. As is true with all legislation and policy, the "science" of health care provision and delivery was never a factor in the process except as fuel for political momentum. The one interesting aspect of that is that it seems, for the first time in my lifetime, that the whole of American society is waking up to what I've understood since childhood: the world is absurd and the U.S. government, in its economics and politics, is abusive, cruel, and tyrannical when it isn't merely indifferent. Now, in a different age that may not have been the case. I have no idea. I've lived only in my own moments rather than as a historical entity. And I realize that even the stories I tell myself are arbitrary and temporary. If knowledge is power then the knowledge that my ideas of myself and the world are undoubtedly just means to an end that I don't even fully understand then I can never act responsibly because I know that I can never know enough to make a responsible decision. 

That being the case, ideas such as "criminal prostitution" or "illegal drugs" make no sense at all. Like Foucault, I understand the illegality of all things--even murder--as motivated by political pragmatics rather than ethics or morality. I recognize that my recoil against murder is based on my own personal pragmatics rather than a law of the universe. Gravity is a reality beyond human control; murder is either committed or isn't because of human choices. Actually, murder is committed because of political/legal creations. Killing is a non-legal, non-political act whereas murder is a legal/political act. Killing is only murder if certain legal conditions are met ... according to judges and juries.

In a sense, a trial is simply a theatrical dramatization of past events that are under dispute in some significant way to various actors with power and influence. The practice of the trial in the United States is familiar and, as such, seems like a given, as reliable and "real" as gravity. But it's a concoction, a discursive creation not made once and for all and set in stone hundreds of years ago but an ongoing dynamic, each event not only a replication of past events but a confirmation of the rightness of those past events. It is trusted on faith by those who have attached it to the American identity whereas it is accepted with resignation by those who recognize they have no more power to change the judicial system than they do to change the laws of gravity.

Now, the outlook on all forms of reality changes radically depending on the type of attitude or belief one develops in relation to any particular thing. In this case, the trial is the particular thing, but it could be anything. Having an attitude that is favorable toward the rules and procedures of U.S. trials is going to factor into other perspectives (or has been factored in because of other perspectives) on U.S. law and politics. Believing U.S. trials to be unjust will likely be related to other beliefs about U.S. law and politics. Take the dominant Middle Eastern view of the United States, that America is the Great Satan because of its lack of respect for the sovereignty of other nations. That colors perceptions about all things American. Conversely, an economic globalization ideologue looks at U.S. foreign policy and views the U.S. as an extremely good country because of its lack of respect for the sovereignty of countries that are hostile to foreign investment and control of resources. 

Neither perspective is "right" based on any independent criteria. That's just it: there are no independent criteria. There are only individual beliefs, attitudes, preferences, etc., that may or may not become law and policy depending on choices made (and much else) in particular circumstances. So where does that leave us? Right back to where we actually are and where we've always been. There has been no progression throughout "history." No, just new humans being born, living for awhile, and then dying. The stories they make up about themselves and the world? No more or less than anything else that a person thinks or doesn't think. Kind of Buddhist, yes, but it's not my fault. I don't really care. I haven't for a long time. Look, you just stop giving a shit about much of anything abstract when you realize that there's nothing more than personal preference involved with any belief structure (story structure). Would I like it to be different? Yes, but because it won't and can't be different, the desire for change is just a form of suffering. If I was a Buddhist I would just accept that everything changes in ways that are meaningless. Perhaps. But I can choose to suffer if I'd like and desire what cannot be. It's best to recognize the futility of caring even if I feel compelled to care.

Don't blame me. I didn't create this reality. I'm just doing time in the prison of my body within the prison of civilization within the prison of ... within the prison. Just like anyone else. I'm just refusing to pretend that I'm free when reality informs me that I am anything but. Why mention any of this? Why cut and paste so much of that writeup about Foucault and then rattle on in this way? I don't know for sure. It's really nothing more than releasing the scream echoing through my being ever since I realized that very, very few human beings are loving and caring. I hear lots of talk about love but I see very, very little evidence in public. Caring is something people do behind closed doors, apparently. Most people seem to care for others in much the way they watch porn: while in their rooms alone at night when no one else is around. In other words, the nature of care in the United States is masturbatory. The character of Americans (and the country as a whole) is taking. Giving that actually helps alleviate suffering and provides real opportunities for empowerment is about as common as meeting someone who won a Powerball jackpot.

If we wanted to see compassion in the world we'd change our politics and restructure our laws and economics. But that would really require trust and love of others. There's nothing there, though. Religion plays a role, for one: "I don't have to be good because if I just give my life over to Jesus some day I'll be saved and all the really horrible things I do to myself and others will be forgiven by the magic man in the sky after I die and all the suffering I'm enduring now is bearable because I know that I'll be receiving an eternal paycheck for all of the injustice I've endured when I walk up the Pearly Gates." That's why religion is the opiate of the masses. You take away the eternal paycheck from people and they go, "I'm enduring what?! For no reason at all?!!! Motherfucker!!! I am going to kill those motherfuckers for screwing me over!"

Yeah, that's why religion plays such a big role in politics. I mean, the only way to endure suffering is to create a story that justifies it or at least gives hope that the suffering will end and something better will come. But, taking that approach ultimately allows others who are NOT believing that some external other loves and cares about them and will make all the booboos go away to actively engage in life and perhaps even influence or control individual circumstances and perhaps human relations on a wider scale. The way the world looks to me is a relatively few people really REALLY engaged with life in internationl politics and business, controlling the flow of resources and humanity around the world, determining how the majority of humanity spends their lives (think mines in Latin America--come on, none of the indigenous people chose to work in mines except out of necessity, a necessity created by those who were actively engaged in taking and using and controlling in the ways they wanted).

That's why Thucydides is right about power and Socrates is a fucking idiot. And yet, Socrates would be right if 20th century academics had not divided and subdivided subjects into separate disciplines and then walled them off from all other modes of thought in order to preserve their "integrity" (as if doing so could possibly create a discourse that would be predictably useable and functional in the real-world). Well, that's bullshit. You can't separate ethical inquiry from social sciences and expect politics to be measured in any way other than in terms of materialistic measures. So, ethics is dead. Has been. It probably never existed except in the way Zeus exists (in the minds or hearts of humans). Ethics is in the realm of "ought" and the social sciences focus on the "is" without making value judgments (well, that's bullshit, but that's the meme). Eh, I'm done. Fuck it.