Saturday, 5 August 2023

Linguistic Idealism as a Weapon of Poststructuralist/Postmodernist Politics

This is the follow up to my essay ‘Poststructuralism and Deconstruction as Forms of (Linguistic) Idealism’. My last essay was about Catherine Belsey’s poststructuralism, and how it’s strongly reliant (if implicitly) on linguistic idealism. (Belsey was a literary critic and academic.) This essay, on the other hand, attempts to show how Belsey and other poststructuralists/postmodernists use the philosophical position of linguistic idealism (if without using that term) as a means to further various political goals and causes.

A critical (or biased) commentator may say that poststructuralists and postmodernist philosophers make words mean whatever they want them to mean.

Catherine Belsey herself was aware of this criticism.

Firstly, Belsey quoted a few words from Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass:

“‘When I use a word,’ Humpty Dumpty said in a rather scornful tone, ‘it means just what I choose it to mean — neither more nor less.’”

Alice, along with Belsey herself, recognised the problem here. Belsey continued:

“‘The question is,’ said Alice, ‘whether you can make words means so many different things.’
“‘The question is,’ said Humpty Dumpty, ‘which is to be Master — that’s all.’”

There will be more on poststructuralism’s Humpty Dumpties later.

[It’s worth noting here that poststructuralism and postmodernism are essentially fused together in Catherine Belsey’s book, Poststructuralism: A Very Short Introduction.]

Catherine Belsey’s Politics

Catherine Belsey clearly had a political problem with the idea that in our own society

“we are compelled to conclude [] that some languages misrepresent the way things are”.

Belsey believed that “we” arrogantly assume that “our own language describes the world accurately”. Thus, if Belsey didn’t believe that the notion of accurately representing the way things are has any purchase, then she must either have believed that all ways of representing things do so accurately, or that no ways accurately represent the world.

More tellingly, Belsey (if not in these precise words) asked:

How dare we believe that we are right?

Similarly:

How dare we believe that others are wrong?

Belsey’s way out of this political outrage was to embrace linguistic idealism. More concretely, she rejected reference. (She actually used this word a couple of times.)

Belsey argued that we believe that “units [] exist unproblematically”. That is, we believe that our “reference to things” is unproblematic. Belsey, on the other hand, believed that things do exist problematically. Indeed, the very reference to things (or the world) is problematic.

Moreover, Belsey believed that things are actually “differentiated from one another by language itself”. In other words, the things we talk about are never (as she put it) “natural”. They are, instead, the artifacts of language. Thus, if things and the world are merely the artifacts of our language, then what right have we to state (or even believe) that “some languages misrepresent the way things are”?

(Belsey really means languages games by her word “languages” — as shall be shown in a moment.)

So what was Belsey’s alternative to this politically problematic acceptance of reference-to-things?

Belsey believed that it’s politically right to accept “other accounts of the world”. What’s more, in order to make philosophical sense of that, she believed (if not always explicitly) that we must abandon the world and reference. In other words, we must adopt linguistic idealism.

Take the following passage (now in full) from Belsey:

“We are compelled to conclude either that some languages misrepresent the way things are, while our own describes the world accurately, or that language, which seems to name units given in nature, does not in practice depend on reference to things, or even to our ideas of things.”

Instead:

[T]he units that seem to exist so unproblematically may be differentiated from one another by language itself, so that we think of them as natural [].”

This is a clear defence of the autonomy of language games.

(When you scratch the surface, some — even many — language games are actually excluded from Belsey’s pluralism and her embrace of diversity: such as the languages games of Nazis, fascists, nationalists, certain types of Christian, certain types of religious fundamentalists, patriots, conservatives, right-wingers, “neo-liberals”, “capitalists”, those people who’re against mass immigration, what she calls “reactionaries”, racists, Brexiters, etc.)

More relevantly, that autonomy of language games is a direct result of Belsey accepting linguistic idealism…

But all this is very esoteric.

What concrete political examples did Belsey herself give?

Firstly, Belsey cited a little history:

“A century ago many European nations were ready to impose their own classifications on other cultures, where imperial conquest made this possible.”

As ever, Belsey then offered her own political alternative. She continued:

“But the multicultural societies that have resulted from the decline of empire are willing to be more generous in their recognition of other accounts of the world, which is to say, other networks of differences.”

So in order to politically criticise former “European nations” and the (British) “empire”, Belsey needed to give up on the world and on things (or units). Or, at the very least, she needed to advance the idea that the world and things are exclusively the product of what the many and various language games decide they are.

However, this relativism(?) and linguistic idealism leads to obvious problems for Belsey very own political positions, causes and values.

Firstly, if everything goes, then languages games which include racism, colonialism, fascism, religious fundamentalism, white supremacy, nationalism, etc. must also go.

Yet earlier Belsey (obviously) didn’t apply her linguistic idealism, pluralism and stress on diversity to what Western nations and the British empire believed and did.

In fact, she was very selective.

In other words, in order to advance diversity (i.e., through linguistic idealism), Belsey had to exclude a hell of a lot (as already noted).

Of course, Belsey wouldn’t have accepted this inclusion-through-exclusion interpretation.

Yet it’s a clear consequence of her views.

When the world, units, things, reference (or referents), etc. are erased, then anything goes — and that includes racism, fascism, nationalism, religious fundamentalism, etc. Indeed, this is the very point that many Marxists have made against views like Belsey’s. [See my next essay.]

My own position is (to some degree at least) backed up by the American philosopher Thomas A. McCarthy, who basically argued that if there is no truth, correspondence, facts, things (or units), etc., then poststructuralists have literally nothing to go on — from a political perspective. All there can actually be is a situation of different language games (or phrase regimes — see later) being at (ideological) war with each other.

McCarthy himself offered the (political) requirement that we should accept shared content (determined by a shared world and shared things) between all languages. He also argued that surely only such a language — the language that deconstruction rejected or deconstructed — can liberate what Belsey herself refers to as “the big Other”.

As Thomas A. McCarthy put it:

“Deconstruction can hardly give voice to the excluded other. The wholesale character of its critique of logocentrism deprives it of any language in which to do so.”

That’s why deconstruction (as Marxists have indirectly put it) couldn’t even hint at anything directly (rather than tangentially) political in any everyday sense. Hence, the ineffable, obscure and (well) pretentious prose.

This is McCarthy again:

[Is it] merely by accident that [Derrida’s] writings contain little analysis of political institutions and arrangements, historical circumstances and tendencies, or social groups and social movements, and no constructions of right and good, justice and fairness, legitimacy and legality?”

Isn’t it the case that justice, legality, legitimacy, fairness, etc. are examples of transcendental signifieds in Derrida’s philosophy? Thus, Derrida’s only interest in similar terms (or similar things) was to violently deconstruct them. (Up until his later writings at least.) Indeed, if he hadn’t done that, then his whole enterprise would have… well, deconstructed itself.

If we now return to Belsey’s quotation of the Humpty Dumpty passage from Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass.

Poststructuralists/Postmodernists as Humpty Dumpties

Belsey did acknowledge (i.e., when discussing Humpty Dumpty earlier) that “[m]eaning is not at our disposal, or we could never communicate with others”.

Basically, Belsey was critical of the possibility of a (to use a term she uses — see here) “private language”. (So is just about everyone else!) In other words, she argued against purely subjective creations (or inventions) of what she called “meanings”…

However!

Belsey was very much in favour of language games.

Or, at the very least, Belsey accepted that language games existed, and that they are (or simply could be) at odds with each other.

Yet language games are deemed to be beyond the merely subjective — they are intersubjective.

As Belsey herself put it:

“We learn our native language, and in the process learn to invoke the meanings other people use.”

Belsey moved one step beyond this basic philosophical point about languages and communication, and added a political slant to it. She wrote:

“To reproduce existing meanings exactly is also to reaffirm the knowledge our culture takes for granted, and the values that precede us — the norms, that is, of the previous generation.”

To repeat. According to Belsey, there can be no private language. However, there can be (some? many? numerous?) language games.

So Belsey critically states that communication would be impossible if it relied on private languages, yet her take on language games makes these (Wittgensteinian? Lyotardian?) entities take on the same role as (private) subjects in the argument against private languages.

To be clear.

The possibility of a private language is ruled out by Belsey (again, as it is by just about everyone else), at the very same time as she argues that one language game is (or at least can be) incommensurable with another language game.

Thus, Belsey’s position on language games is similar to the French philosopher and sociologist Jean-François Lyotard’s own position. Unlike Belsey’s term “language games”, Lyotard used the (clearly more political) term “phrase regimes”. (This was most fully enunciated in his book The Differend: Phrases in Dispute. See also Lyotard’s notion of the differend.)

Lyotard argued that the concepts, terms, beliefs, aims, desires, etc. of each phrase regime are incommensurable with those of other phrase regimes.

All this means that Belsey having a problem with the possibility of a private language (i.e., of a single human person) didn’t mean that she also had a problem with a lack of commensurability between different language games. Indeed, that lack of commensurability is both stressed and endorsed by Belsey (as it was by Lyotard).

What’s more, the incommensurability thesis is stressed and endorsed for purely political reasons.

Belsey wrote:

“In this sense, meanings control us, inculcate obedience to the discipline inscribed in them.”

Sure, that sentence is fairly non-political (if somewhat hyperbolic). However, now take the following passage, in which Belsey told us that “Derrida argued” that

[c]ulture is always ‘colonial’, in that it imposes itself by its power to name the world and to instil rules of conduct”.

The Point is Not to Refer to the World…

Belsey throws down the gauntlet with this statement:

“If meaning is a matter of social convention, it concerns and involves all of us.”

That’s basically a call for her readers (or for academic phrase regimes) to create (or invent) new meanings which serve the political causes and goals that Belsey herself endorsed. Indeed, Belsey more or less stated exactly that in various places.

For example, Belsey told us that “individuals can alter [language], as long as others adopt their changes”. She then relates all this specifically to poststructuralism (by inference, to linguistic idealism too). She wrote:

“Poststructuralism is difficult to the extent that its practitioners use old words in unfamiliar ways, or coin terms to say what cannot be said otherwise.”

Belsey’s acknowledgements above at least partly account for the difficulty in reading poststructuralist texts.

For a start.

Don’t readers need to already know that “old words” are being used “in unfamiliar ways” before they attempt to understand poststructuralist texts?

However, if readers don’t know this, then they’ll be reading old words in old ways.

What’s more, isn’t Belsey’s talk of neologisms and using old words in new ways a hint that readers need to belong to the poststructuralist (as it were) academic tribe before they can understand poststructuralist texts? Or as some Marxists have put: How will that philosophical and academic exclusivity work politically?

Readers will also need to know why old words are being used in unfamiliar ways. In other words, why don’t poststructuralists use new words (i.e., neologisms) to express new ideas?

So is there some kind of (as it were) subversive game going on here? A game in which old words are used in deliberately unfamiliar (or new) ways?

Well, of course there is!

Belsey and other poststructuralists have freely admitted that there is such a subversive game going on.

Added to the problems (i.e., the ones which will be encountered by those people who aren’t members of the poststructuralist academic tribe) is the problem of poststructuralists “coin[ing] [new] terms”…

And they’ve certainly done that!

Yes - there’s a huge lexicon of coined terms in poststructuralism.

It’s also difficult to decipher what Belsey means by the words “to say what cannot be said otherwise”. Some readers may suppose that this is like the terms “quark”, “Internet”, etc., which were used to refer to things which either didn’t previously exist or which weren’t previously known.

However, is there really a parallel between, say, the term “gene” and the poststructuralist term “trace”, or between “quark” and the poststructuralist term “logocentrism”?

In any case, Belsey acknowledges that the many new coinages of poststructuralists haven’t been accepted by everyone. She wrote:

“This new vocabulary still elicits some resistance, but the issue we confront is how far we should let the existing language impose limits on what it is possible to think.”

The way Belsey expressed this situation is to paint all members of the “resistance” as knuckle-dragging luddite reactionaries.

Is that really the case?

Most readers will be very happy with at least some new words or terms (even with some “old words [used] in unfamiliar ways”), but not be happy with all new terms or words.

Belsey knew that.

She even wrote that “we set out to modify the language, annoying conservatives with coinages”.

Again, some (or many) readers may be happy with “dark matter” or “gigabyte”, but not be happy with the poststructuralist term “Other” or “intertextuality”. A reader may even be happy with some new non-scientific coinages such as “social media”, “troll”, “democratic socialism” (or “Alt Right”), and not be happy with other new terms.

So now take some controversial terms in the news at the moment:

“they” (used as a singular pronoun), “woke”, “cisgender”, “snowflake”, “womxn”, “fake news”, “disinformation”, “misinformation”, “Alt Right” (or “Alt Left”), “dog whistle”, “denialists”, “gaslight”, “hate”, “haters”, “culture wars”, “neo-liberal”, “toxic masculinity”, “toxic…”, “diversity”, “inclusion”, “heteronormativity”, etc.

Admittedly, some of these terms are little more than cheap-’n’-easy buzzwords (which are thrown around like confetti on social media). However, the point is that surely Belsey can’t have been arguing that literally all new terms should be accepted without question.

Of course, clearly Belsey didn’t believe that.

After all, would she have been happy with the (fairly) new terms “Alt Left”, “snowflake”, “woke puritanism”, “academese”, “cultural Marxism”, “taking over the institutions”, “Remoaner”, “Mickey mouse degrees” (at universities), etc?

All this means that there may well be a host of reasons for finding the numerous neologisms of poststructuralists — and others — to be philosophically, semantically and/or politically problematic.

So surely it can’t always be a case of reactionaries rejecting literally all semantic change purely and simply because it’s… well, change.

Conclusion

Admittedly, Catherine Belsey is a minor figure. However, she perfectly characterised the legions of academics who were — and who still are — beholden to poststructuralist and postmodernist (as well as their many derivations) thought and ideas.

And like those other academics, Belsey clearly expressed her own politics through these academic isms.

Indeed, she argued that her own politics — as displayed through the prism of poststructuralism — must be (or should be) both embraced and then practiced. (She did practice it, both academically and otherwise.) In Belsey’s own words:

“If meanings are not given or guaranteed, but lived all the same, it follows that they can be challenged and changed.”

Belsey herself did challenge the “meanings” of what she called “conservatives” and of many others. And she did so through the ideas of poststructuralism and postmodernism, which are (or were) themselves, in turn, highly dependent (or reliant) upon the philosophical position of linguistic idealism.


(*) The final essay in this series on Catherine Belsey will be about the many Marxist critiques of poststructuralism and postmodernism. More relevantly, some (even many) of these Marxist critiques have themselves focused on the linguistic idealism of poststructuralism and postmodernist philosophy.

This essay will also include the words of Belsey, along with criticisms from Noam Chomsky, Terry Eagleton, etc.

(**) See my ‘Poststructuralism and Deconstruction as Forms of (Linguistic) Idealism’.

My flickr account and Twitter account.


Saturday, 29 July 2023

Poststructuralism and Deconstruction as Forms of (Linguistic) Idealism

The British academic and literary critic Catherine Belsey wrote a book called Poststructuralism: A Very Short Introduction. That book doesn’t mention either (historical) idealism or (20th century) linguistic idealism. Perhaps Belsey would have seen such a mention as being out of place in an introductory book. However, this essay argues that linguistic idealism is at the very heart of poststructuralism. Indeed, Belsey’s own (very positive) words about poststructuralism show that to be the case.

Catherine Belsey (left). Top to bottom: Jacques Derrida, Jean-François Lyotard and Jacques Lacan. These three figures are extensively featured in Belsey’s book.

[See my next essay, ‘Linguistic Idealism as a Weapon of Poststructuralist/Postmodernist Politics’.]

(i) Introduction
(ii) Linguistic Idealism?
(iii) Saussure’s Linguistic Idealism?
(iv) Is the World Created By Language?
(v) Conclusion: Poststructuralism’s Linguistic Idealism and Politics

This essay is largely based on an extremely positive account of poststructuralism by the academic and literary critic Catherine Belsey (who died in 2021).

In her book Poststructuralism: A Very Short Introduction, Belsey waxes lyrically about literally all the theorists and philosophers she personally associates with poststructuralism. Oddly enough, Belsey includes the Stalinist Louis Althusser (who she had a soft spot for — see note at the end of this essay) and the self-described “communist” Slavoj Žižek (see ‘Why I am a communist but NOT a socialist’) under the poststructuralist banner. In other words, Belsey doesn’t just mention Althusser and Žižek in passing.

Belsey’s book is easy to read, as well as being entertaining. So it’s unlike the other books I’ve read on the subject of poststructuralism. Indeed, these books are often as hard to read as poststructuralism itself…

Yes! I’m happily and openly admitting that the other books on poststructuralism I’ve tried to read are ̶f̶a̶r̶ ̶t̶o̶o̶ ̶h̶e̶a̶v̶y̶,̶ ̶d̶e̶e̶p̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶e̶s̶o̶t̶e̶r̶i̶c̶ ̶ for me to understand.

So that’s the main reason why I’ve relied on Belsey’s book.

Again, Poststructuralism: A Very Short Introduction is easy to read and entertaining. However, it will be argued that it’s also flawed —at least from a philosophical point of view.

In critical terms, even most introductory books take some time to make clear what at least some of the criticisms of the philosophers and theorists discussed are. However, this isn’t the case with Belsey’s book.

So literally every theorist and philosopher Belsey associates with poststructuralism (including Barthes, Kristeva, Lacan, Derrida, Foucault, Althusser, Žižek and Lyotard) is given an extremely-positive spin.

Now Belsey’s omnipresent positivity toward all poststructuralists (at least the ones she discusses) can’t simply be because her book is a “very short introduction”.

Indeed, it isn’t.

Catherine Belsey was clearly (some kind of) poststructuralist herself.

A younger Catherine Belsey.

This positivity is shown throughout Belsey’s book, as well as in her other publications, and the institution she ran.

Belsey chaired the Centre for Critical and Cultural Theory at Cardiff University from 1988 to 2003. And Wikipedia tells us that her book Critical Practice (1980) “was an influential post-structuralist text in suggesting new directions for literary studies”.

In any case, it’s crystal clear that Belsey was very far from being a non-biased commentator on poststructuralism.

Linguistic Idealism?

“NLI is a philosophical position []. Language does not represent the physical world but is the world itself.”

Some of the explanations and definitions of linguistic idealism are as vague as Catherine Belsey’s own hints at it (as we shall see).

For example, we have the claim that linguistic idealism is “the thesis that the world is a product of language”. (Here we see the vague words “product of”, which can be interpreted in many ways.)

We also have less vague — and, correspondingly, less radical — accounts, such as writing about Hegel’s “emphasis on the importance of linguistics in shaping cognition”. Indeed, this passage (from a paper called ‘Transcendental Versus Linguistic Idealism’) continues in the following manner:

“This view — linguistic idealism — redirects philosophy’s search for origins away from transcendental faculties and toward the history not of what we can know but of what we can say: toward the evolution of our basic words.”

That first sentence (at least as it stands) needn’t be taken as a commitment to linguistic idealism at all…

However, we need to establish what linguistic idealism is in the first place before we can say that such selected passages are — or are not — examples of linguistic idealism.

Similarly, the continued passage above needn’t be taken as an account of linguistic idealism either — even though it contains the words “linguistic idealism”! Thus, is the Wittgensteinian phrase “what we can say” (not “what we can know”) really any kind of commitment to linguistic idealism?

Well, yes and no.

It depends, again, on how we define the term “linguistic idealism” or what we take linguistic idealism to be.

So why is the term “linguistic idealism” used in this essay?

This term is used primarily because it’s the most suitable term available.

Thus, that’s not to say that readers need be entirely happy with it. What’s more, it’s certainly the case that poststructuralists themselves wouldn’t have liked it as a description of what it is they offered…

The main reason for that would be that idealism (in all its forms) is a historical Western position. (It can can be found in non-Western traditions too.) Yet poststructuralists are (or were) against the Western tradition.

Thus, simply gluing the word “linguistic” onto the word “idealism” wouldn’t have been acceptable to a poststructuralist (especially a philosopher like Derrida). Furthermore, poststructuralists would never have dreamed of classing themselves as any kind of idealist…

Indeed, many (even most) poststructuralists didn’t even use the term “poststructuralist” about themselves. (“The play of the sign” goes on.)

Belsey herself tells us that Slavoj Žižek “rejects the label ‘poststructuralist’ (energetically)”.

Why is that?

It’s because he

“associates it with Derrida and what he sees as an exclusive and probably frivolous preoccupation with the signifier”.

In detail.

Poststructuralists set out to trump the entire “Western tradition”. (As stated, idealism has been prominent in non-Western traditions too.) Thus, using the word “idealism” about their own position/s was always out of the question.

All that said, this is the position of poststructuralists themselves on the term “linguistic idealism”. So there’s no reason why people who aren’t poststructuralists should accept such denials. In other words, simply because poststructuralists deny that they are linguistic idealists, then that doesn’t also mean that they aren’t linguistic idealists.

So perhaps a little context will help here.

Idealists (linguistic or otherwise) have often pitted themselves against realists. (Less often, and usually in the context of analytic philosophy, realism is itself pitted against anti-realism.)

Catherine Belsey herself recognised that poststructuralists (Lyotard in this instance) have pitted themselves against philosophical realism.

Lyotard

Firstly, she tells us that Jean-François Lyotard's “target” was “realism”.

Why did Lyotard target realism?

Belsey continued:

“Realism, [Lyotard] claims, reaffirms the illusion that we are able to seize hold of reality, truth, the way things ‘really’ are.”

Lyotard (as expressed by Belsey) went even deeper when he argued that realism “protects us from doubt”. In Belsey’s words:

[Realism] offers us a picture of the world that we seem to know, and in the process confirms our own status as knowing subjects by reaffirming that picture as true. Things are, human beings are, and, above all, we are just as we have always supposed.”

It must now be said that — traditionally — idealism was a philosophical position on (as it’s often put) “the nature of reality”. Thus, even if poststructuralists are idealists of some kind, then their idealism may still only be a small part of their poststructuralism…

However, it can also be seen as being a large part of poststructuralism!

Indeed, linguistic idealism can be seen as being the primary source of nearly everything else in poststructuralism (as this essay will now attempt to show).

Saussure’s Linguistic Idealism?

Ferdinand de Saussure

Some readers will be aware of how important Ferdinand de Saussure was to the poststructuralists who came after him.

Yet the thing about Saussure was that he rarely discussed political, ethical or social issues. What’s more, he wasn’t a philosopher: he was a linguist. Prima facie, then, it may seem hard to directly connect him to either poststructuralists or to poststructuralism...

But don’t worry about that.

Catherine Belsey herself does the connecting for us.

Basically, Belsey shows us how important Saussure was to poststructuralists.

But, more relevantly, Saussure’s very own (possible) linguistic idealism is at the heart of this issue...

Linguistic idealism?

Well, Belsey put Saussure’s position in this way:

“Meaning, Saussure proposed, did not depend on reference to the world, or even to ideas [about the world or things].”

Belsey also told us that “[f]or him, meaning resides in the sign and nowhere else”.

On the face of it, the statement (to change the tense)

Meaning does not depend on reference

is remarkable.

Thus, some readers may wonder about Belsey’s words “did not depend on”.

What do they mean?

Few philosophers have claimed that language or “meaning” is entirely dependent on reference. (Referentialists like J.S. Mill came close to this — see here. See also ‘Direct reference theory’.) So if Belsey was arguing that, then she was arguing against her own straw target.

In any case, from Belsey’s words alone, it would be easy to conclude that Saussure believed that meaning (or language) does not depend on reference at all! Indeed, if this isn’t the (radical) thesis that Belsey was offering us, then most alternatives would be purely mundane, and not something that would be controversial.

The same questions arises for the statement “meaning resides in the sign and nowhere else”. Rather that disagreeing with it, it’s hard to understand exactly what this means.

It’s true that few — very few — philosophers have come close to arguing that meaning itself can be found in “the world” or in referents. (According to John Heil, some philosophers believed that “words are connected to things [] by ‘outgoing’ chains of significance guided by the agents’ thoughts (‘noetic rays’)”, see ‘Noetic’.)

But, again, the erasing of the world and/or reference entirely is another thing…

Unless they aren’t being erased in Belsey’s philosophical scheme.

However, if they aren’t, then her position stops being radical, and starts being (as already stated) mundane. And if it truly is mundane, then Belsey wouldn’t be writing about it. After all, lots of mundane positions that provide a (as it were) middle ground between reference (or the world) and language have been offered in the 20th century (as well as before) by people who aren’t poststructuralists (e.g., by analytic philosophers and by many others).

So surely Belsey is offering us much more than that.

In any case, Saussure’s (possible) linguistic idealism was taken further.

Take the French painter and sculptor Georges Braque (who isn’t quoted or mentioned in Belsey’s book), who once wrote:

“I do not believe in things, I believe only in their relationship.”

And now take French psychoanalyst and psychiatrist Jacques Lacan (who is quoted and mentioned in Belsey’s book), who wrote:

“It is the world of words that create the world of things [].”

Some readers may deny that this is linguistic idealism in the sense that Lacan at least acknowledged “the world of things”.

Or did he?

Well, there was nothing to stop Lacan from arguing that things are simply a product of “the world of words”. (Professor Donald Hoffman and other contemporary idealists stress that things are the product of the world of consciousness — or consciousnesses in the plural.)

Again, and as with Belsey, if Lacan simply opted for the idea that things are a factor of words, yet things aren’t themselves words, then that would have been a (fairly) mundane position. Yet Lacan wouldn’t have liked to advance any mundane position. Thus, this linguistic idealism interpretation seems feasible here.

If we return to Saussure.

Many of Saussure’s ideas can be agreed with.

For example, his stress on the (rather obvious?) relation of words to other words, the nature of linguistic “systems”, “difference”, etc. However, Catherine Belsey’s account of Saussure’s position (i.e., as one which calls for the complete erasing of reference or the world) is another thing entirely.

So perhaps Saussure and Lacan didn’t want to erase reference or the world — even if Belsey did.

Perhaps they had a more subtle take on this matter.

Is the World Created By Language?

Catherine Belsey tells her readers that “few issues are more important in human life” than language. In detail:

[L]anguage and its symbolic analogues exercise the most crucial determinations in our social relations, our thought processes, and our understanding of who and what we are.”

This, of course, contains an element of rather obvious truth.

So it’s where Belsey went next that’s of interest.

Firstly, Belsey eases her readers in gently by simply saying that “language intervenes between human beings and the world”.

So at least the world is recognised here.

Belsey continues:

“Poststructuralism proposes that the distinctions we make are not necessarily given by the world around us, but are instead produced by the symbolizing systems we learn.”

Admittedly, Belsey plays down her own poststructuralism and the radical nature of poststructuralism in two ways in that passage.

Firstly, Belsey uses the words “are not necessarily” in order to downplay the (well) absoluteness of poststructuralism’s claim. Yet those three words are a gratuitous addition which don’t seem to play any role. That’s because there’s no not necessarily about this poststructuralist position. Poststructuralists do believe that our “symbolizing systems” (not “the world around us”) produce our “distinctions” and the world.

Secondly, Belsey writes about poststructuralism (in the passage above and elsewhere) in the (as it were) third person (as in the words “poststructuralism proposes”). However, it’s crystal clear that she was, if not an outright poststructuralist herself, then someone who was extremely positive toward poststructuralism.

The idealist idea (which Belsey herself would simply class as poststructuralism) is expressed (poetically) again in the following passage:

“Both the signifier and the image are on the same side of the glass, if glass it is. Here language is not a window onto the world.”

So if language is not a window onto the world, then surely Belsey believed this:

Language is a window onto language.

Here again, this isn’t a stress on both sides of the divide: language and world. Instead, there is the explicit statement that “language is not a window onto the world”.

So isn’t Belsey’s position a clear erasing of the world?

Alternatively (using a word that Belsey uses elsewhere), isn’t this an erasing of reference?

In more concrete and colourful terms, even wheelbarrows are deemed to be linguistic items by Belsey. As Belsey herself put it:

“On this reading, the red wheelbarrow of this poem issues from language, not from the world of things.”

Admittedly, Belsey did say (in the third person again) that this is a poststructuralist “reading” of a poem by William Carlos Williams called ‘The Red Wheelbarrow’.

Again, we have a problem with the words “this poem issues from language”.

As with all the other quoted passages from Belsey, it’s hard to know how to (well) read her words when they only hint at linguistic idealism (specifically the words “issues from”).

In one obvious sense, of course a poem written in words “issues from language”. (It issues from the words used within it.) Yet, as before, Belsey must have meant more than that. She surely meant something philosophically outré.

So, in effect, Belsey believed that this poem is exclusively about language.

(One reason Belsey gives for her idealist conclusion is that, to her, the poem ‘The Red Wheelbarrow’ doesn’t seem to be about “any real farm”.)

For if she didn’t mean that, then any other philosophical (i.e., not aesthetic and interpretive) reading of this — or any other — poem would probably be fairly mundane. However, if it were mundane, then it wouldn’t be poststructuralist. In other words, Belsey didn’t what to be taken to be simply stating the obvious.

Instead, Belsey was offering a position which can be taken to be an expression of linguistic idealism.

That said, it’s hard to understand (even from Belsey’s own reading) why it should be concluded that this poem isn’t about a wheelbarrow and other things, rather than being purely about language.

Sure, language, metaphor, analogy, interpretation, imagination, “intertextuality” (or citationality”), etc. may well play their part in the reading of this and of all other poems. However, why conclude that this poem isn’t about “the world of things” at all?

Indeed, even Belsey’s own reading of this poem doesn’t warrant this idealist conclusion.

Conclusion: Poststructuralism’s Linguistic Idealism and Politics

Jacques Derrida’s book Spectres of Marx has been called his “political turn”. This can be disputed.

It’s of course the case that at least some defenders of Catherine Belsey, and defenders of poststructuralists generally, will argue — or will they? — that the detailed arguments which justify this erasing of things and the world are offered elsewhere. (Alternatively, such people may say that there are arguments which show that there isn’t any actual erasing of things or the world in poststructuralism.)

The thing is, the arguments just aren’t offered in Belsey’s own book.

Sure, this book is only an introduction. However, I would argue that there aren’t any (or at least there aren’t many) arguments anywhere else either…

That may be explained by the fact that many poststructuralists have explicitly (well) argued against argumentation (as well as stressed “lived experience” and “radical change”, not argumentation or debate).

Finally, I just mentioned radical change in parenthesis.

Linguistic idealism is mainly a means to an end for poststructuralists. (This is certainly true of Catherine Belsey herself.)

That end is political.

Basically put, the acceptance of linguistic idealism (i.e., as found in poststructuralism) is a perfect vehicle for advancing various political causes and goals.

[Incidentally, this strongly parallels how spiritual idealists employ idealism to advance various “spiritual” causes and goals.]

Thus, for poststructuralists, linguistic idealism isn’t really (or isn’t only) a philosophical thesis which stresses the primacy of language (or “discourse”). It’s a thesis that’s been used — via the focus on language — to advance radical political change. This political interpretation of poststructuralism is, of course, strongly at odds with the critical readings of both poststructuralism and postmodernism which have been offered by many Marxists. (This will be covered in my next essay.)

So as a quick taster of what’s to come later, here are a few more lines from Belsey’s book.

Firstly, Belsey tells us that Lyotard mentioned those people who “lamented the impossibility of truth”. Lyotard, on the other hand, “rejoiced in the freedom this impossibility conferred”.

Why did Lyotard rejoice in this impossibility of truth?

Belsay continued:

“Postmodernism celebrates the capability of the signifier itself to create new forms and, indeed, new rules.”

And all that will be the subject of my next essay on Belsey’s Poststructuralism: A Very Short Introduction.


Note

From a poststructuralist perspective, this is odd. It’s odd considering Louis Althusser’s penchant for rigid ideologies, oppressive states, and his complete loyalty and obedience to a — communist — political party. (See ‘Althusser, ideology, and Stalinism: A response to Andrew Ryder’ and ‘Althusser and Stalinism’.) Still, it isn’t really a surprise that supporters of Althusser play down his Stalinism. (Some of his fans even play down his Stalinism by playing up his Maoism — see here). Still, it seems very odd — or is it? — that a poststructuralist like Catherine Belsey should not only spend so much time on Althusser, but do so in exclusively positive terms.

(*) See my next essay, ‘Linguistic Idealism as a Weapon of Poststructuralist/Postmodernist Politics’.

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Saturday, 22 July 2023

Donald Hoffman’s Mathematical Models of “Conscious Agents”

The cognitive psychologist Donald Hoffman doesn’t beat around the bush when it comes to how deeply mathematical he believes his own philosophical idealism to be. More relevantly, and perhaps more fairly, Hoffman believes that his notion of a conscious agent is deeply mathematical.

The mathematical extracts in this image all come from a single paper — Donald Hoffman’s ‘Fusions of Consciousness’. They are a very small selection of the maths in that paper.

In his paper Objects of consciousness, Donald Hoffman writes:

“Thus the formalism of conscious agents provides a complete framework for computationally rigorous models of perception and cognition, and a rigorous solution to the so-called combination problem of consciousness, i.e., the problem of combining conscious experiences and conscious subjects [].”

Hoffman also states that his work provides “a precise hypothesis that, of course, might be precisely wrong”. He continues:

“We can explore its theoretical implications in the normal scientific manner to see if they comport well with existing data and theories, and make predictions that are novel, interesting and testable.”

So in what way is Hoffman offering a “precise hypothesis”?

And a precise hypothesis of what?

Hoffman’s Technicalese

One of Donald Hoffman’s many “mathematical models”… or graphs.

In his paper ‘The Origin of Time in Conscious Agents’, Hoffman writes:

“Informally, a conscious agent has six components, as illustrated in Figure 1. A conscious agent has a space X of possible conscious experiences and a space G of possible actions it can take.”

Although Hoffman does use the word “informally” at the beginning of this passage, readers should still ask questions about his choices of numbers, scientific terms, symbols, etc.

Now, informally or not, why six components? Why not seven, one, or two million? (It’s of course possible that Hoffman will concede that his choice of six is arbitrary.)

And what, exactly, is “space X”?

Are readers told what exactly space X is when Hoffman goes on to write that it’s a space “of possible conscious experiences”?

Again, what kind of space is this?

[Bear in mind here that Hoffman believes that “spacetime is doomed”, and he uses this idea to advance his idealism.]

And what are possible conscious experiences?

Indeed, even if space X is an abstract space, is this abstraction related to anything physical? (Since Hoffman is an idealist, this may be a silly question.)

Similarly, what is “space G” (i.e., not “space X”)?

Again, does it help that Hoffman goes on to say that space G is “of [the] possible actions [a conscious agent] can take”?

What are possible actions? And how does Hoffman know anything about what possible actions a conscious agent “can take”?

Of course, if the entity Hoffman calls a conscious agent is entirely his own invention, then it must also be entirely down to Hoffman to tell us which actions it can take, how many “components” it has, etc.

So is all this entirely Hoffman’s invention?

In other words, are these “mathematical models” of things which Hoffman himself has invented?

Hoffman’s mathematical model (or graph) of… what?

Tom McFarlane put Hoffman’s position in this way:

“Hoffman provides a precise mathematical definition of a conscious agent in terms of a set of experiential states X, a set of actions G, and maps that relate these to each other and to states of an objective world W (which itself is composed of conscious agents). The maps can be understood as defining the structure of perception P, decision D, and action A. Based on this definition, he constructs models of interacting conscious agents and derives predictions from those models.”

All that doesn’t help either.

[I’ve used McFarlane’s account because it’s much easier to understand than Hoffman’s own words.]

Apart from the fact that some readers may be deeply suspicious of all these references to a “mathematical definition”, as well as the use of the symbols X, G, W, P, D and A, we still aren’t told what a conscious agent is.

So does this “set of experiential states X” run free of a conscious agent? Do they (as it were) belong to a conscious agent? Are these events or actions of a conscious agent?

Again, all this doesn’t tell us what (as it were) underpins this set of experiential states X

Perhaps nothing underpins experiential states X.

Exactly the same can be said about the words “a set of actions G”.

Surely set of actions G can’t run free of this conscious agent. Aren’t “actions” what this conscious agent does? So what is it, exactly, that’s carrying out these actions? And what is the relation between the conscious agent and this set of actions G?

More broadly, what is the rationale for this seemingly arbitrary set of experiential states X and set of actions G? Why are these two “sets” focussed upon, and everything else excluded? (Why do both sets contain the members they do contain, and not other members?) Indeed, why does Hoffman use these terms from mathematics at all?

How does this “mathematical model” (or graph) have any relation to anything scientific, physical or even metaphysical? How does this model help? What does it tell us?

Finally, in the following passage (which is very hard to grasp), Hoffman provides us with yet more letters, numbers, symbols, mathematical terms and graphs:

“It perceives the world W via a perceptual map P, decides how to act via a decision map D, and acts via an action map A. The maps P, D, and A can be thought of as discrete communication channels. An integer N keeps track of the number of discrete messages transmitted over P. Figure 1. [] Definition 1. A conscious agent, C, is a six-tuple C = ((X, X), (G, G), P, D, A, N)), (1) where: (1) (X, X) and (G, G) are measurable spaces; (2) P : W × X → [0,1], D : X × G → [0,1], A : G × W → [0,1] are Markovian kernels; and (3) N is an integer…”

… And so on and so on.

Almost everything said abut the passages already commented on can now be said about this passage.

So let’s leave it there.

Conclusion

All the entities and terms in Hoffman’s philosophy are largely his own invention (even if to some extent based on existing scientific entities and terms). None of it has been made available to any scientists outside his own inner circle. Yet Hoffman is characterising a philosophical theory — a personal and speculative philosophical theory — as a scientific theory.

Compare this with another speculative philosophical theory: panpsychism.

On the whole, panpsychists don’t do what Hoffman does.

Panpsychists don’t claim that panpsychism itself a scientific theory — or even that it is scientific. It’s true that some (even most) panpsychists claim that their own brand of panpsychism doesn’t “contradict anything in physics” or that it’s “compatible with physics”. (As are all — or most — metaphysical theories.) However, they don’t claim that panpsychism itself is science or scientific.

Hoffman, on the other hand, at best says that his idealist speculations are scientific in nature. At worse, he claims (if sometimes implicitly) that it’s actual science. (He even refers to predictions, etc.)

So how does Hoffman attempt to make his (idealist) philosophy scientific?

That should be clear by now.

Hoffman attempts to make his (idealist) philosophy scientific primarily by using graphs, symbols, numbers, and terms from mathematics and physics, and then using and fusing all of them to advance his idealist philosophy.