Getting the Continental Drift
Many, although not all, of the essays I’ve written for this section of the site can be considered part of an overall narrative, starting with the historical tradition of Western philosophy and its roots in Plato and Descartes, moving to John Dewey and other American pragmatists’ effort to rethink the fundamental premises of that tradition, and then using that response as a catalyst for a new theory of individual development and civic organization. It is worth noting, however, that American pragmatism is not the only critical response to the Platonic/Cartesian tradition. A number of thinkers, mostly in France and Germany, have developed a number of positions loosely referred to as “continental philosophy,� which often take the critique in very different directions.
It’s worth noting that just as there are a number of pragmatists, many of whom disagree with each other often on significant details, continental philosophy is no monolith. Any generalization one tries to offer would have exceptions. For the most part, however, it is safe to say that continental philosophy embraces relativism and is skeptical of arguments that try to logically prove a universal truth. (Many continentals do believe in some kind of eternal absolute, but that such eternity is unknowable to human minds.) Continental thinkers often appear to heavily blend philosophy with other disciplines, which sometimes have the effect of making their prose more forbidding to those trying to pull out a straightforward set of premises and conclusions. Jacques Derrida, for example, has a very heavy element of literary criticism in his work; language structures and shapes thinking, and can thus become a filter that hides the truth from us, so one should try as much as possible to take apart the language and get past the structures it imposes on us.
Michel Foucault carries some of that literary emphasis as well, but I have been more struck by the kind of narrative history he builds through his work. Like Dewey in books like Quest for Certainty, Foucault wants to see how an idea has evolved into its current form. But while Dewey usually concerns himself primarily with the history of ideas, Foucault’s genealogies are usually more detailed and expansive social histories that explore the development of cultures. That social concern is very apparent in works such as Discipline and Punish, in which Foucault compares prisons, schoolhouses, and other institutions designed not only to enforce a particular social order but to guide individuals to accept that order through the exercise of what he calls disciplinary power.
The subjects of disciplinary power perform series of rote exercises, usually involving some kind of physical labor. They are placed in strict hierarchies, frequently examined and ranked, and their physical activities are strictly regulated. They live with the knowledge that their actions may be observed at any time. They may receive punishments from authority figures at any time for failure to conform to a proscribed set of actions. Whether the location is a prison workhouse or a school classroom, the methods are the same. So are the goals: the transformation of the character of the subjects of power, so that they may be released in society as happy, healthy and productive citizens, without fear that they will take action against the society that has so trained them.
“It measures in quantitative terms and hierarchizes in terms of value the abilities, the level, the ‘nature’ of individuals. It introduces . . . the constraint of a conformity that must be achieved� (Foucault, Discipline and Punish 183).
The basis for this perceived security is that, if the apparatuses of disciplinary power are successful, its subjects will have no desire to harm themselves or others. Whereas traditional power had no concern for what its subjects wanted so long as it could prevent them from attaining it, disciplinary power wants to allow its subjects to have anything they want – by controlling what they are allowed to want in the first place.
Foucault illustrates that the institutions of power and the institutions of knowledge have become fused into one symbiotic structure, a structure extending its reach into an ever-growing sphere of human activity. Discourse about and research into human behavior has become an effort to quantify and codify every action, every attitude. The social sciences have rushed to adopt the precision and methods of their physical counterparts in an effort to share in their results and their respect. The results of such research are then used to legitimate new laws, new governmental policies, and any number of ideological positions, all of which perpetuate the legitimacy and validity of the modern methods of social research. Those who overtly exercise power turn to the wisdom of experts, looking for ways to consolidate power and manipulate their subjects or perhaps genuinely searching for ways to maximize well-being for everyone. The experts gladly share their findings, because by acting upon that data, the institutions of power provide the raw data for a new generation of conclusions. The underlying assumption, perhaps never consciously acknowledged, is that our failures to properly regulate individuals and societies result from our ignorance of the formulas which, once discovered, will allow us to bring about exactly the future we seek.
This is a far darker view of the work of empirical research than that held by Dewey; this skepticism about the scientific viewpoint is shared by other continental thinkers, including Martin Heidegger. Heidegger’s Being and Time contains a theory of human behavior and knowledge similar to the kind of social behaviorism proposed by Dewey and his colleague George Mead, but there is another layer to Heidegger’s metaphysics. Heidegger is not concerned merely with the universe of human experience, but with the larger universe as well. He argues that there is a greater Being coming to presence in the world we perceive, but that the limitations of humanity result in this presence being imperfect. Our increasing use of a technical way of thinking further corrupts the natural coming to presence of true Being. Heidegger’s “Question Concerning Technology� describes the process of “technification,� a process in which the rigid understanding of cause and effect utilized in modern science transforms human beings into objects to be measured, deployed, and used as material for production. While human beings have viewed each other as means to ends since they first formed societies, modernity has combined this capacity for exploitation with a dispassionate, clinical worldview that aims for a far greater precision than social constructs currently achieve or have ever achieved. We have adopted the dogma of cause and effect that allowed us to split the atom in an attempt to split the human psyche. Modern science succeeds because it transforms any phenomenon into an instantiation of a formula. Once you know the formula, you can identify the variables. Once you know and control the variables, you control the phenomenon. The effort to control damages the ability to coexist, with highly negative consequences.
While I think the continental thinkers have a lot to offer, I ultimately part ways with them on a number of key points. The deconstructionist efforts of a Derrida often become an infinite loop that descends into self-parody. I think that Foucault’s warnings of the misuse of power are useful precisely because I believe that self-awareness, reflection, and criticism can reduce or overcome that abuse. And Heidegger’s privileging of the mysterious Being over the world of human experience leads him to devalue human freedom in a way that has disastrous social consequences. But at the very least, these writers offer perspectives that might not come naturally to those of us who have absorbed more Anglo-American ways of thinking and can be a useful inspiration for the much-advocated thinking outside the box, and for that in itself they are commendable.
About Dave Thomer
Born and raised in Philadelphia. Studied philosophy at Fordham University in the Bronx, where I made many great friends and met my wonderful wife. We moved back to Philadelphia, where I studied philosophy some more and became a teacher. Online and off, I'm looking for ways that we can be better citizens and build stronger communities.