Return to Post-Anarchism

I believe that scholars of anarchist theory have misunderstood the innovation of post-anarchist theory. Post-anarchism began as a critique of some of the presuppositions of traditional anarchist thought, specifically its ontological and epistemological positions. It was at its most powerful when it critiqued these assumptions. Its secondary benefit was to offer new possibilities for thinking anarchist ontology and, consequently, politics. Those who promote post-anarchist scholarship for only its secondary benefit therefore miss the important ‘break’ that it introduced into traditional theory. It is the break – or what Lacanians refer to as the ‘interpretative cut’ – that was most important, and not its secondary ontological and epistemological position.

Post-anarchism’s critique was that traditional anarchist theory (also referred to as ‘classical anarchism’) often presumed that human nature was essentially ‘good’ and productive (like Marx’s notion of ‘species-being’) and that the state and capitalism were essentially bad and repressive (what Saul Newman and others have referred to as the ‘place of power’). To put it in philosophical terms: the ontological stratum of ‘being’ needed to be set free from the confines of ‘epistemology,’ or ‘politics,’ or ‘power.’ The pivotal political strategy, naturally, consisted of Revolution: we must simply remove the ‘bad’ ‘place of power’ and human nature can once again flourish. To be sure, this naive position was not adhered to exclusively by the classical anarchists. We have found it in classical Marxism, and, within the overarching classical tradition of political thinking as a whole.

It was the secondary benefit of post-anarchism – its actually held position, which only began to appear in more solid form after its critique – that did something interesting. First, it claimed that ‘being’ is multiple – it is not only ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ and, moreover, it is not ‘repressed’ absolutely by some external unitary site of power. It was conceived much like the Freudian drives/instincts, or the id. It does not know about ‘good’ or ‘bad,’ and it does not care about contradiction. ‘Being’ is also active, and, it has a power too. If we follow our Freudian analogy then we might say that ‘being’ is more powerful than all the other forces of the psychical apparatus. But it is also the most hidden, the dark part of the psyche. In other words, ‘being’ itself seems to influence the world of power, the world of words, and so on, and, moreover, the latter seems more composed by the former than vice versa. This raises all kinds of problems, such as, for example, the possibility that authority was the innate construction of being, rather than merely that which contained it. Second, post-anarchism claimed that politics, and, moreover, power, was everywhere. This means that the only logical position is tactical struggle here and there, everywhere, without an overarching Revolution.

How quickly post-anarchism moved from a Lacanian position to a Deleuzian one.

In some sense, it was a necessary move. It was necessary to avoid the previous ‘classical’ position, and to move into the next position. However, it is all the more necessary today that we recognize that post-anarchism ceases to be positioned within the discursive register of ‘post-anarchism’ when it moves from ‘interpretative cut’ to ‘secondary benefit.’ To put it in Lacanian terms: post-anarchism moves from the ‘analytical discourse’ to the ‘university discourse,’ it moves from the position of intervening at the level of desire to a more problematic discursive position which desires that everything be included within the world of language and power (e.g., if power is everywhere then struggle is everywhere, and everything is included within politics); hence, post-anarchists today write so often about the revolutionary politics of ‘walking’ or ‘dinner parties’ or ‘friendship,’ etc.

We can return to “Revolution” without fearing “authoritarianism.” The two were only paired at the “classical” level of discourse, and not, necessarily, at the current level of discourse.

To be post-anarchist today requires that one make a new cut. I believe that we must return to the category of ‘universalism,’ and, moreover, we must stage an all out war against relativism. We must recognize that the post-anarchists are incorrect — and so too are the anarchists! — when they conflate ‘universalism’ with ‘authoritarianism.’ In other words, not all ‘universalism’ is ‘hegemonic,’ ‘fundamentalist,’ ‘dogmatic,’ and so on. And perhaps part of our political project will consist of rethinking the terms ‘fundamental’ and ‘dogmatic,’ to appropriate them from the liberal and fanatical consensus. This is my first point.

My second point is that we must defend the ‘subject’ as the new site of political universality. One of the hazards of passing through the relativist turn – with thanks to post-anarchism – has been the loss of the political category of the subject: the subject became reduced to its relative dimension. Each has his or her own subject, and none are recognized as a trajectory toward (and of) the universal. The danger is to allow the subject to be defined as it has been by anglophone meta-ethicists: always relative, always ‘subjectivist.’ No wonder the subject gets discarded by anarchist scholars today. But this is not the authentic dimension of the subject, and this is not the subject as it is outlined, for example, in the late work of Jacques Lacan or Alain Badiou.

We must rethink the category of the subject, without being afraid of aligning it within the universal. This is our next logical step, it is the only one open to us at this stage of our discourse.

Complex Primary Motor Stereotypy

I can not remember when the behaviour began but I am sure that it was around the time that my wife and I started moving in separate directions, in other words it was shortly before we separated. I have had many conversations with my boy, typically adding little inquisitive cues to see where his speech might wander, which has led me to believe that the separation of his parents was a major emotional upset for him – one that is likely to impact him for a very long time (if only in subtle ways).

Some remarks about the phenomenon:

  • It occurs only when he is playing alone, or focused on something by himself. For this reason I will say that it is a radically independent and self-centred behaviour. It has been remarked that sometimes there are others around him (though even this is rare) when it occurs, but even here I have noted that it occurs when the object (more on this “object” later) is not shared, but exclusively his own.
  • Physiologically, it consists simultaneously of (1) finger wriggling, as if there are great surges of energy passing through them, and (2) the head turns downward ever so slightly so that the eyes look upward toward the object (as if looked over the brow or forehead); sometimes it also includes (3) a noise from the mouth that sounds like a series of sharp Ks (/k/), as if he is imitating the sound of a car crash.
  • He describes it as something his “body just does on its own.” He can not describe it as pleasurable or irritable. One time he described it as if it were scratching, but that was a rare description.
  • It only occurs during periods of excitement or play, and not during other emotional states.

Since its emergence I have been studying it and thinking long and hard about it. It has brought me at odds with his teachers and even some of my family members who believed that it may be autism, seizures, tremors, and so on. I did not believe the evidence pointed in any of these directions. For example, many of the tell-tale signs of autism are not present in my son. Also, he does not lose consciousness during these acute phases (as many people suspected) because he can be easily snapped out of it by intervening.

I discovered that Johns Hopkin’s University has been studying this for some time and found that only behavioral therapy can provide any help – and even here it is not promising. No, he will not grow out of it. No, it can not be cured or mitigated by medication.

They describe this cluster of symptoms as “Complex Primary Motor Stereotypies,” which is one of the possible designations under the rubric of Motor Stereotypies (others being: “Common,” rather than “Complex,” and “Secondary,” rather than “Primary”). Complex indicates that it is not something relatively simple such as nail biting. “Primary” indicates that this is the exclusive cluster of symptoms and does not occur alongside something deeper and more biological or neurological (such as head trauma, for example).

Current research indicates that Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Awareness Training are the best options. However, their research moves away from any link to Obsessive Compulsion Disorder. The problem is that this further delinks the cluster of symptoms from the structure of obsessional neurosis, which may very well be its true home.

For Lacanian psychoanalysts: there is psychosis, ordinary psychosis, phobia, perversion, hysterical neurosis, and obsessional neurosis. And, incidentally, there is no reason to presume that Complex Primary Motor Stereotypies are always under a single clinical structure. Because they are “symptoms” focused they do not describe clinical structure and can therefore not advance any further than that which they isolate: the finger wriggling, etc. I’ll give you a quick example as to why this matters. When I began personal psychoanalysis years ago, my demand was to be cured of my eating disorder. I realized after a few months that my eating disorder wasn’t the problem, it was only a part of a wider and more encompassing structuring pattern of behaviors and thought processes. If I was hung up on only a few foods then I was also hung up on only a few books or bands or artists, and so on.

There is remarkably little (and perhaps none) psychoanalytic research on this phenomenon. It seems to me that such research might not only reveal something truly key in terms of differential diagnosis but it might also offer a more long-lasting and hopeful remedy. For example, the problem of the misdiagnosis of so-called Complex Primary Motor Stereotypy with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder indicates a similar muddy problem for the differential diagnosis of obsessional neurosis and (ordinary) psychosis within psychoanalytic research.

Also, it is clear that my son has suffered some anxiety over the breakup of our family. I will not get into these minute details right now but perhaps I will in the future if I continue to explore this on my blog. However, I do believe that my brother had (and continues to have) similar movements in his hands growing up, which would indicate something genetic. Accompanied by these symptoms in my own child are:

  • orderly arrangement of toys
  • obsession with numbers, dates, ages
  • fixation on certain topics of conversation (currently it is spiderman)
  • picky eating

These latter behaviours may have indeed been inherited, in a sense, from me since I have often described my own behaviour over the years as “Selective X disorder,” where “X” is the activity. For example, I have what some diagnosticians refer to as Selective Eating Disorder. I often joke and refer to other activities in my life, to demonstrate that this is not exclusively about food: I had Selective Reading Disorder (I was only ever interested in one great thinker), Selective Music Disorder (one genre of music or band), and so on. Personal Analysis, under a Lacanian analyst, has revealed and helped in significant ways.

Finally, about the “object.” I noticed that it often occurs with “tiny” objects and not with “large objects,” and that, moreover, it occurs while watching certain “types” of video games or television shows. It does not occur when these objects are shared in interactive ways between Soren and myself, or between Soren and any other person. I also noticed that the behaviour is reduced when I or somebody else is present (and Soren is aware of our presence or gaze). Recently I noticed that he feels compelled to stand up while he does this, and I remind him to sit back down. While sitting, the excitation is diminished, but not considerably.

I believe that it has something to do with excitation which occurs within the body but is not of the (imaginary) body, it is certainly of the order of the real or of the drives. It does not have words and we (Soren and I) as of yet could not find words that Soren felt were adequate to describe it. This would indicate an inability to inhibit the excitation, or, possibly, what Lacanians would call “a foreclosure of the father function.” He seems to not want to accept the inhibition of the excitation and does not seem to be comfortable exchanging the real sensations with signifiers. This explains his anxiety when he is asked to step fixating on Spiderman, etc.

Recently he has become incredibly emotional and jealous and questions my love for him, as well as his mother’s love for him.

Now, at the risk of introducing personal details for which I may not be forgiven, I shall share the situation of the father and of the mother in brief. When Soren was almost three his mother and I remained married and lived together in the same apartment. However, our emotional interaction toward each other (mother and father) decreased considerably due to a problem within the marriage itself. Arguments – and sometimes they were loud – happened frequently. For one year the father lived in intense depression and thought about the future of the marriage before finally leaving it.

For a time, I remained with my son for at least 2 hours daily, and sometimes much more, but interaction certainly diminished. The mother remained with the child, in her own visible depression, over night and in the mornings. I remained with the child in the afternoons. The father was also considerably depressed. The father’s depression eventually subsided when he met somebody new, but it resurfaced here and there. The mother’s remained for almost 3 years.


Charlie and the Toothpaste Factory

I started reading _Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ to my son at night. It has been a rather enjoyable experience.

The already starving and desperate family, all of whom can barely afford food, are willing to starve even more to maintain Charlie’s happiness and his conviction for the impossible. From this, I extract the theme of conviction for the impossible from the place of hopelessness.

The family desire is hinged to this conviction for the impossible from the place of hopelessness, but there is a supplemental, defensive, position that pops up as well. It is the conviction that the Other will offer a way out of all of one’s problems. For example, the family secretly believe – but will not let Charlie know – that Wonka’s chocolate bar lottery might help them out of their poverty. Or, at the very least, they believe that Charlie must remain happy precisely despite his poverty. I extract from this the theme of the Other’s omnipotence (e.g., the belief in the Other’s brilliant and “magical” abilities) and the counteraction of hopelessness with happiness.

This latter theme was transferred to Charlie precisely by the grandfather who instead of buying food for himself or for the family (indeed, for Charlie, who was skinny!), he gives Charlie his last coin so that he might buy a second chocolate bar on his birthday and so that he might have another chance at winning the trip to the factory. It was this moment that secured for Charlie the conviction of the Other’s omnipotence. It may have even been a case of interpassivity: the grandfather did not believe that Charlie would actually win, but he wanted Charlie to believe it; and Charlie did not believe he would win, but he wanted to make his grandfather happy by keeping up appearances. In any case, another stab at the lottery!

It is when Charlie moves through the factory that we can see things begin to change. Charlie is finally set free for a significant period of time from his family’s desire. He is not motivated by any of the vices of the other children, that is, in the final instance, Charlie, unlike the others, is not motivated by the desire for wealth. He remains happy in his poverty, and simply appreciates ‘being there.’ He is not tempted by this or that accumulation but is rather tempted by the purity of his curiosity: how do these “absurd” things work? Unlike the other children, he wants only to come to know the “absurd,” that is, he wants to know how the tricks are accomplished. In psychoanalytic jargon: he desires to know the unconscious, the place of the Other.

It is only through this radical hopelessness – the desire to know the absurd – that Charlie is capable of finally seeing Wonka for what he really is: an old man who will die and who will, precisely through that death, expose Charlie to the responsibility he has to run the factory. In Lacanese: the factory and all that is in it is like language and all of its signifiers, then, at the end of the book, Charlie takes control of these signifiers and invokes them to express his desire. Charlie passes through the fundamental fantasy. You can see how the relationship to Charlie’s father, who is never home and works at a toothpaste factory, is rendered apparent in the Wonka narrative: toothpaste factory cleans and protects teeth, chocolate and sweets destroy teeth.

Kierkegaard & Lacan

In “Fear and Trembling,” and more particularly in the first part titled “Exordium,” Kierkegaard provided four (no doubt of many) interpretations of the Abraham/Isaac story. Isn’t it interesting that for each one he provided a supplemental analogy of a mother/child relationship? Why did he do this? Has anybody yet provided a sufficient answer?
For example, in the first one Abraham pretended to be a maniac so that his child Isaac might think that only Abraham is diseased and therefore it is not God who is diseased. Kierkegaard’s analogy was one of a mother who “blackened” her breast so that the mother function might saved and the nipple or partial-object became rendered faulty.
In the second case, Abraham reluctantly followed God’s commandment to murder Isaac. Kiekegaard’s analogy was of a mother who hid her nipple so that the child might feel that the mother has herself disappeared.
What Kierkegaard stumbled upon here is the Lacanian position that the Father is outside of the scene of the mother/child relationship. However, his conclusions were incorrect. The Lacanian orientation provides a useful way of rereading these.
For example, in the first case the father is ineffective and the analogous partial-object ceases to exist. We might suspect that Isaac grew up psychotic and the mother’s desire wasn’t effaced. This is why there is no partial-object, why the nipple – the objet a – did not come into being. The whole body of the mother remained intact and the child was nothing but an extension of that body: one body. In this case, Isaac no doubt grew up psychotic – the father function failed.
In the second case the mother disappears and with it so does the partial object (nipple). This is the liminal zone of perversion where Isaac grows up confused about the Father/God. For example, Abraham followed the commandment of God, so God must be real! However, why would God be so cruel? The solution was to disavow God and Abraham’s phallic authority.
It is the fourth case that is the most preferable, then. Abraham follows the plan but reveals to the son’s eyes resistance to the horrible deed. The analogy for Kierkegaard was that the mother has “more solid food” to feed the child so that the child is never hungry. In other words, the child’s autonomy is saved. Presumably, the “solid food” refers to something after the weaning process, a the child advances, in a sense, to the anal stage. The horrible duty of the Father is to say “no” but to demonstrate to the child also that this is an act of love.

The Pass & The Act

Commentators often prematurely punctuate the first sentence of the foundational act, forgetting about the second part: “I found – as alone as I have always been in my relation to the psychoanalytic cause – L’Ecole Française de Psychanalyse, of which, for the four coming years in which nothing in the present forbids me to answer for, I will personally assure the direction.” Here we can see the birth of an authentic and novel psychoanalytic act, or what Alain Badiou defined as “militant conviction” (akin, in some sense, to the founding act of Saint Paul). It was the moment of “fidelity” to a cause which would have been the solitary delusion of Lacan had the act not been carried through with fervent tenacity; in other words, the act was in fidelity with the psychoanalytic cause, which is, in the final analysis, I would say, the cause of the real. Lacan’s cause was grounded within the delusion of his subjectivity, it was an act for which he would continue to live out the consequences so as to bring forth the celebrity name of Lacan onto the public scene. It was not unlike that delusion remarked upon by Miller, regarding the founding act of Islam:

“Ask yourself if what orders our world is not for a large part a delusion. […] The Freudian field is a delusion, it doesn’t have a clear-cut existence. It’s a thing for a few thousand people in the world who speak of the Freudian field […] When you read about Mohammed – God forbid that I say anything against Mohammed – he went away alone, he had some divine message, he wrote it down, and this discourse ordered one million people in the world. It was a divine delusion” (Miller).

We should not be relieved of the burden of thinking through the consequences of this argument that the founding act is also a delusion, however divine. The pass reveals today that it is altogether more easy to achieve it, though altogether less common. We are obligated to ask ourselves the question concerning the ease with which the pass might today be accomplished – if, in fact, we could think of it as an accomplishment – and the subsequent infrequency of militant conviction among emerging generations. There is no pass without militant conviction, and, thus, there are few passes among these generations, though, certainly, there are acts. Plenty of them.