Psychopathologies of Cognitive Capitalis PDF
Psychopathologies of Cognitive Capitalis PDF
Psychopathologies of Cognitive Capitalis PDF
ESSAYS BY
INA BLOM
ARNE DE BOEVER
PASCAL GIELEN
SANFORD KWINTER
MAURIZIO LAZZARATO
KARL LYDÉN
YANN MOULIER BOUTANG
WARREN NEIDICH
MATTEO PASQUINELLI
ALEXEI PENZIN
PATRICIA REED
JOHN ROBERTS
LISS C. WERNER
CHARLES T. WOLFE
A R C HI VE BOOKS
Part Two Final File First Edition_cover part two 5/21/14 9:43 PM Pagina 4
VOX S ER I ES
Edited by Warren Neidich
ESSAYS BY
INA BLOM
ARNE DE BOEVER
PASCAL GIELEN
SANFORD KWINTER
MAURIZIO LAZZARATO
KARL LYDÉN
YANN MOULIER BOUTANG
WARREN NEIDICH
MATTEO PASQUINELLI
ALEXEI PENZIN
PATRICIA REED
JOHN ROBERTS
LISS C. WERNER
CHARLES T. WOLFE
A RC HI VE BOOKS
This book collects together extended
papers that were presented at The
Psychopathologies of Cognitive
Capitalism: Part Two at ICI Berlin
in March 2013. This volume is the
second in a series of book that aims
attempts to broaden the definition
of cognitive capitalism in terms of
the scope of its material relations,
especially as it relates to the condi-
tions of mind and brain in our new
world of advanced telecommunica-
tion, data mining and social relations.
It is our hope to first improve awa-
reness of its most repressive charac-
teristics and secondly to produce
an arsenal of discursive practices
with which to combat it.
Edited by
Warren Neidich
Coordinating editor
Nicola Guy
Proofreading by
Theo Barry-Born
Designed by
Archive Appendix, Berlin
Printed by
Erredi, Genova
Published by
Archive Books
Dieffenbachstraße 31
10967 Berlin
www.archivebooks.org
ISBN 978-3-943620-16-0
CONTENT S
I NT RODU CTIO N
Warren Neidich
The Early and Late Stages
of Cognitive Capitalism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9
SECTIO N 1
Cognitive Capitalism
The Early Phase
Ina Blom
Video and Autobiography vs.
the Autobiography of Video.
An Historical View of the Ambiguities
of Self-monitoring Technologies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31
John Roberts
The Psychopathologies
of the Bourgeoisie . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57
Patricia Reed
Logic and Fiction:
Notes on Finance and
the Power of Recursivity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Maurizio Lazzarato
Does Cognitive Capitalism Exist? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 93
Karl Lydén
Therapy for a
Pathological Capitalism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
CON TEN TS
SECT I ON 2
Arne De Boever
A Fiction of the Great Outdoors:
The Psychopathology of Panic in
Robert Harris’ The Fear Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 163
Pascal Gielen
A Chronotopy of
Post-Fordist Labor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195
S ECTIO N 3
Charles T. Wolfe
Cultured Brains and the Production
of Subjectivity: The Politics of Affect(s)
as an Unfinished Project . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 245
Matteo Pasquinelli
The Power of Abstraction and its Antagonism:
On Some Problems of Contemporary Neuroscience
and the Theory of Cognitive Capitalism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
Liss C. Werner
Towards A*cognitive Architecture:
A Cybernetic Note Beyond –
or the Self-informing Machinery . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 293
Sanford Kwinter
Neuroecology:
Notes Toward a Synthesis . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 313
Warren Neidich
Computational Architecture
and the Statisticon . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 335
WAR RE N N EID ICH 9
Introduction:
The Early and Late Stages
of Cognitive Capitalism
Section 1:
Cognitive Capitalism – The Early Phase
Section 2:
The Psychopathologies of Cognitive
Capitalism and its responses
Cognitive capitalism is also characterized by a number of
distinct psychopathologies such as attention deficit disorder,
panic attacks, depression and autism. The specificities of
the psychopathologies of cognitive capitalism is a bridging
concept between its early and late phases. First they are
produced by living in the moment of cognitive capitalism;
the anxieties and constant stress produced by the continual
need to adapt to the accelerated pace of the new, its loneliness,
its precarity and uncertainty, its linkage to surveillance and
paranoia. On the other hand they are the product of neurobi-
ological alienation in which the accelerated pace of cultural
change, or cultural plasticity, outstrips the ability of the brains
neural plasticity to adapt thus creating a lack of adequate
perceptual and cognitive processing. In this form of what
is called opaque alienation individuals experiences a real
psychological syndrome with material sequelae registered
as inconsistencies and aberrations in the neurobiological ar-
chitecture of the brain, which create adaptation difficulties.
19
They are aware of the deficits and usually search out assistance.
Full-blown attention deficit disorder and autism represent
this opaque form of neurobiological alienation. I would like
to suggest that, like sleep, transparent and opaque forms of
neurobiological alienation especially the psychopathologies
in their milder forms could be sites of creativity and experi-
ence beyond the reach of capitalist intervention. That they
are in fact the sites of a recurring freedom! (Neidich 2014,
forthcoming) The notion of an alternative way with which
to regard the role of psychopathology reminds us of similar
ideas of the famous Berlin Neurologists Kurt Goldstein’s in
which illness, as Matteo Pasquinelli reminds us, is a norma-
tive process that creates other possibilities for creativity and
understanding, conditions that may have consequences for
the image of thought. We will return to the implications of
his work in the last section of this book.
In his essay “The Only Place to Hide? The Art and Politics of
Sleep in Cognitive Capitalism” Alexei Penzin once more con-
firms what Jonathan Crary in his book 24/7 suggests that sleep
is the only natural barrier to an insistent non-stop laboring.
But for him the philosopher must be a night watchman guarding
the contents of sleep. Importantly, what was a model of sleep
disruption in post-Fordism, so called insomnia, is substituted
for by the much more dangerous sleep apnea in which respira-
tory and cardiovascular disruptions can endanger life itself.
22 WA RR EN NEIDICH
Section 3:
The Cognitive Turn in
Cognitive Capitalism
Crary, Jonathan, 2013. 24/7: Late Capitalism and the Ends of Sleep.
London: Verso, p. 33.
SECTIO N 1
Cognitive Capitalism
The Early Phase
30
IN A BLOM 31
I
Video and autobiography. The coupling of the two terms seems
self-evident, a cliché even. In an age of ubiquitous camera
functions, video seems to present itself as an autobiographical
medium par excellence, a technology at the service of subjects
continuously tracking their existence on digital devices big
and small, cheap and expensive, stationary and mobile. But
the coupling in fact goes back to the early days of analog video.
The 18 lb. Sony AV-3400 Porta Pak camera that came on the
market in 1969 was also considered an intimate appendage
to the human body—a harbinger of today’s self-monitoring
technologies. In distinction to the floor-bound cameras
of official television, the Porta Pak was understood to be
‘handheld,’ like a pen, and like a pen made seemingly limitless
tracings in real time. Not only did a 1969 tape reel allow an
entire 30 minutes of continuous recording (as opposed to
the 3 or 11 minute runs of Super 8 or 16mm film rolls),
you could also connect the camera directly to a monitor,
eschewing the temporal limitations of tape. From this
moment onwards, video emerged as a signal-based corollary
to the first person narratives of the modern novel—a literary
form that not only veered towards the self-exposure of
actual living persons, but that had its historical roots in the
handwritten private letter.
32 INA BL OM
II
If the coupling between video and autobiography comes
across as one of several automatisms delivered by video,
this is in no small part thanks to the critical literature on
what is often referred to as the ‘autobiographical impulse’
in video art and related forms. The notion that there is some
impulse at work here obviously indicates the presence
of something automatic, not fully willed or consciously
thought out. Interestingly enough, the authors for the most
part takes this as their cue to remain strangely passive or
uninterested when it comes to the question of the more
specific features or functions of the technologies that
would produce such an impulse. Video here is even at times
unquestioningly paired with film, as if the assignment of
autobiographical affordances to two technologies as different
as film and video might not in fact complicate the concept
of ‘autobiography’ as a modern media genre.
The reason for this technological disinterest may
stem from the fact that focus here is invariably on the
subject of autobiography—notably the human subject and
the way in which its auto-representation through signaletic
media seem to open for a destabilization of specific ideas
about subjectivity and identity. The drama surrounding
such questions of subjectivity all but cancels out more
detailed perspectives on the material substratum of the
autobiographical technologies. But, even more pertinently,
it seems to be rooted in a mode of thinking in which the
V IDEO A ND AU TOBIO GR APHY VS.
37
THE A UTO BIOG RAP HY OF VID EO.
III
When subjects are, in all seriousness, said to have been
‘bracketed by technology,’ it is actually technology itself
that is bracketed, rendered ineffective and immaterial, pulled
out of historical time and the contingencies of technical
connectivity. But this seems to be the price for what is
essentially, if ambivalently, a representational model of the
relation between technology and subjectivity. Depending
on how its specific temporalizing features are deployed,
video is here basically understood as an instance that ‘mimes’
a more or less reified, more or less dynamic and more or
less contingent version of the autobiographical human
subject and the durations of existential time.
In view of this hypostatized version of the humanity
of video (a form of reductionism that is also a key ideological
figure of current politics…the individualizing machine as
me, my body, my memory), it is worth recalling Dominique
Janicaud’s point that there is no such thing as ‘time itself’
that is subsequently captured and processed by technologies.
V IDEO A ND AU TOBIO GR APHY VS.
43
THE A UTO BIOG RAP HY OF VID EO.
Blom, Ina, 2003. The Name of the Game. Ray Johnson’s Postal
Performance. Kassel: Stedelijk Museum Sittard.
Paik, Nam June, 1973. “Expanded Education for the Paper-Less Society”
(grant report to Rockefeller Foundation in 1968), in Nam June Paik,
Videa ’n’ Videology, New York: Everson Museum of Art.
Lettvin, Jerome Y. et al., 1988. “What the Frog’s Eye Tells the Frog’s
Brain,” in Warren McCulloch (ed.), Embodiments of Mind. Cambridge:
MIT Press, pp. 230-255.
The Psychopathologies
of the Bourgeoisie
Since the 1960s there has been steady decline in per capita
GDP growth (in the advanced economies from 3.5 in the
late 1960s to 2.7 per cent in the 1970s, 2.0 per cent in the
1980s and 1.7 per cent in the 1990s; and in the developing
economies from 3.7 in the late 1960s to 1.8 in the 1970s,
followed by a slight rise to 2.0 in the 1980s and then back
down to 1.7 in the 1990s). Global production growth rates
were 3.0 per cent in 1980s, 2.4 per cent in the 1990s, and
1.4 per cent in the first half of the millennium (although
the USA has been able to partially offset this decline).
Global savings and investment rates as proportion of GDP
during the period 1970-2004 are down from around 24
per cent of world gross product, to just over 21 per cent.
68 JOH N R OBERT S
Florida, Richard, 2002. The Rise of the Creative Class: And How
It’s Transforming Work, Leisure and Everyday Life, New York:
Basic Books.
Negt, Oskar and Kluge, Alexander, 1993. Public Sphere and Experience:
Toward an Analysis of the Bourgeois and Proletarian Public Sphere,
trans. Peter Labanyi, Jamie Owen Daniel, and Assenka Oksiloff,
Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Steyerl, Hito, 2012. The Wretched of the Screen, Berlin: Sternberg Press.
With half a decade since the 2008 financial crisis, a far more
distressing crisis has emerged among all the proposed reform
strategies, austerity measures and jagged-edged line-graphs:
a crisis of imagination. This is rather surprising seeing as
how much creativity it took to get us into this plight. From
the decoupling of the dollar with the gold standard in 1971,
to a situation where even negative value (debt) generates
profits in excess of our wildest dreams–to a layperson such as
myself, this is an achievement of alchemist-like proportions.
Just as currency was becoming an object of speculation
(and not just a tool of equivalence), the first academic journal
of finance economics emerged in 1974 (Mackenzie 2008,70),
paving the socio-economic road we (rapidly) travel down
today. That the ideas and spirit of the finance economics
endemic to the neoliberal revolution were birthed in acade-
mia should give us pause against the many critics who
suggest the university is an elitist tower at a gaping dis-
tance from ‘lived’ life. This is not to say that ideas floating
about in specialist journals are the impetus of popular
change, but that every novel transformation of our condi-
tion is rooted in thought, more crucially the experience
of thought, and its incorporation into a localization or a
‘doing’ (Badiou 2005b, 46). Thought carries real potency.
78 PATRI CI A REED
Badiou, who share some core agreements (axiom of equality), yet who
diverge (dramatically) on the point of creation of Truths. A critique of
Rancière by Badiou can be read in two chapters (7 and 8) of Metapolitics.
84 PATRI CI A REED
Félix Guattari
Therapy for a
Pathological Capitalism
2012, p. 24-29.
THERAP Y F O R A PATHOLOG ICAL CA PI TA LI SM 1 17
the self, where one needs an other to tell him the truth: “You recall that
Galen does not present the person to whom we must resort as a techni-
cian; he is not presented as a technician of the medicine of the body
or as a technician of the medicine of souls, neither as a doctor nor as a
philosopher. According to Galen’s text we should appeal to a man who
has reached a certain age, has a sufficiently good reputation, and who
possesses, in addition, a certain quality. This quality was parrhēsia, free-
spokenness. A man of a certain age, who has a good reputation, and who
possesses parrhēsia are the three necessary and sufficient criteria for the
person we need for us to have a relationship to self.” (Foucault 2010, 44)
1 24 KARL LY DÉN
the starting point for Foucault’s tracking of the concept of parrhēsia, the
very last instance of parrhēsia which he lays out in the final lectures of
1984 could serve as some kind of counter-point: the cynic Diogenes.
Following the notion of parrhēsia as it is developped through these three
years of lectures from 1982 to 1984 it is almost as if one could see a
movement of increasing solitude or isolation on the part of the parrhēsiast.
When the notion is first elabaroted, the parrhēsiast, both according to
Philodemus, Epicurus, and Seneca and others, is the master guiding or
leading the soul of his disciple towards something like autonomy in a
collective endeavor. Then Foucault passes to the écriture de soi, through
the political parrhēsia of 1983—Pericles speaking in front of the assem-
bly or as Plato as the counselor to the tyrant of Sicily—finally arriving
in the 1984 lectures on the cynics, and Diogenes, the mad dog, using his
own life as example, in an instant where we have “parrhēsia as life”.
This position almost amounts to an ontological figure of resistance, and
is probably much closer to something like Antonio Negri’s poor militant
than Rancière’s notion of politics: “The poor person is then not someone
constituted by pain, but is inreality the biopolitical subject. He is not an
existential trembling(or a painful dialectical differentiation): he is the
naked eternity of the power of being.” (Negri 2004194) See also: Katja
Diefenbach. “Living Labour, Form-Giving Fire. The Post-Workerist
Reading of Marx and the Concept of Biopolitical Labour,” in Ed. Gal
Kirn Post-Fordism and its Discontents, 2010, 86.
THERAP Y F O R A PATHOLOG ICAL CA PI TA LI SM 1 27
out the importance of Marx’s Capital (rather than the young Marx)
for Foucault’s analysis of power in its positive mechanisms: “dans
une conférence donnée à Bahia en 1981, publiée sous le titre imagé
“Les mailles du pouvoir” (...), Foucault confirme explicitement ce
rapprochement. Il y déclare : « Comment pourrions-nous essayer
d’analyser le pouvoir dans ses mécanismes positifs ? Il me semble que
nous pouvons trouver, dans un certain nombre de textes, les éléments
fondamentaux pour une analyse de ce type. Nous pouvons les trouver
peut-être chez Bentham, un philosophe anglais de la fin du XVIIIe
siècle et du début du XIXe siècle, qui, au fond, a été le grand théoricien
du pouvoir bourgeois, et nous pouvons évidemment le trouver aussi chez
Marx, essentiellement dans le livre II du Capital. C’est là je pense
que nous pourrons trouver quelques éléments dont je me servirai pour
l’analyse du pouvoir dans ses mécanismes positifs. » (DE IV, p. 186)”.
Pierre Macherey, “Le sujet productif,” available online: http://philolarge.
hypotheses.org/1245#more-124 [last accessed May 2014].
1 28 KARL LY DÉN
as a metaphor not only for the self but also for collective
techniques of the self as outlined by Foucault in 1982, the
inner landscape of the tunnel must be shaped not by an indi-
vidual brain and nervous system, but rather by a collective.
The care of the self as expressed in a set of truth acts, and
even shaping of the formal conditions for such acts, has to
transform into the collective shaping of a communist set of
practises, cares, and acts of truth as the cures for our most
acute pathologies. That is to say, one would have to with-
draw together with others and form separate communities,
whether it is in small suburban gardens like the Therapeutae
or in other places, in order to embark on the collective care
of the self and others that amounts to the construction of a
communist tunnel.
Crary, Jonathan, 2013. 24/7 Late Capitalism and the Ends of Sleep.
London: Verso.
Marx, Karl and Guesde, Jules. “The Programme of the Parti Ouvrier.”
Available online: http://marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1880/05/
parti-ouvrier.htm [last accessed April 2014], made from the French
original in: Jules Guesde, Textes Choisis, 1867-1882, Editions sociales,
1959, pp.117-9
1 32 KARL LY DÉN
Metzinger, Thomas, 2009. The Ego Tunnel. New York: Basic Books.
SECTIO N 2
1 For further reading on this point see my book from 1998, From slavery
(….)
(...)
From 1985 to the present day we have entered a new era for
subjectivity. The fast expansion of information and communi-
cation technologies has stimulated the constituency of a homo
numericus within cognitive capitalism very different then
the New Man promised by the Maoist Cultural Revolution.
This great transformation of economic value, organization
of work and of capitalism as a global and pervasive and intru-
sive system (Boutang 2012) was not only an “objective
transformation” of the economic infrastructure, but also a
mutation of work: without which such transformation would
not have been possible. The entrenchment between private
appropriation of surplus value of activity in general as a social
and global result (and not only of waged work) and free ac-
cess platforms, what can be called “communism of capital,”
has fostered rational and utopian hope for liberation of man
through collective intelligence, contributory economy, free
software, peer to peer economy, wiki platforms, crowdfund-
ing for social entrepreneurship etc. Among researchers, politi-
cal activists, ‘geeks’ and hactivists in the decade between
2003 and 2013, a vivid and somewhat fierce debate began be-
tween optimistic versus pessimistic analysis. I must confess
that by psychological disposition of mind, I have never been
melancholic or Saturnian. Therefore I was soon classified as
an apologist of cognitive capitalism verging dangerously to
indulgence towards a new kind of Saint-Simonism, what Mat-
teo Pasquinelli has criticized as the “Californian digitalism”
(Pasquinelli 2008) who was supporting diabolic Gaffa
[Google, Amazon, Facebook and Apple] against the old mate-
rial industrial capitalism. Beside psychological considera-
tions, standing for a deliberate optimism of the reason, and
not of the will, I persist and sign on for political reasons.
For example, towards a Marxist and the operaist tradition,
to which I owe a great part of my education, I retain only
useful passions that increase the conatus and joyful passions.
1 48 YANN MOUL IER BOUTANG
Brazilian planters to capture new slaves or to get back the run away slaves.
MENTAL QUILOMBOS IN THE PRODUCTION OF VALUE 155
non lugere, neque detestari, sed intelligere” [not to laugh, not to weep,
not to curse, but to understand].
BIBL IOG RA PHY 161
Nietzsche, Friedrich, 1873. On the Use and Abuse of History. New York:
Cosimo (2005).
Looking Back
In my contribution to the first volume of the series of books
related to the “Psychopathologies of Cognitive Capitalism”
conferences that Warren Neidich, Jason Smith and I launched
in Los Angeles in November 2012, I wrote some sentences
about speculative realism, specifically about a passage from
the “Ancestrality” chapter of Quentin Meillassoux’s book
After Finitude: An Essay on the Necessity of Contingency,
that now strike me as not very well thought out (see Boever
2013, 108). I want to come back to those sentences here,
since my clarifications of what I wrote then will lead directly
into the subject of the present article, namely panic as a
psychopathology of cognitive capitalism.
Clearly, and this is the part of my reading that I now take issue
with, these questions remained within the limit, or at the
limit, of science, of a science that makes statements of the
kind that Meillassoux describes—about “the age of the
universe, the date of the accretion of the earth, the date
of the appearance of pre-human species, or the date of the
emergence of humanity itself” (Meillassoux 2008, 9). But
while we may be at science’s limit here, there is of course
no reason why we would have to stay within it, in the same
way that if we pursue this question at the limit of fiction,
there is no reason why we would have to stay within its limits
and limitations. It may indeed be that, when pushed all the
way, fiction would crumble in the face of these questions.
I would now like to briefly review this latter text since its
argument will prove to be of central importance to the reading
of Robert Harris’ novel The Fear Index that I’d like to develop.
It is in fact through this review that the ‘corrective’ of my use
of the word science in my earlier text can occur.
A Panic Novel
The Fear Index tells the story of twenty-four hours in the
life of Dr. Alexander Hoffmann, from the moment when he
receives a copy of the first run of the first edition of Charles
Darwin’s The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Ani-
mal (1872) and is leafing through it in the study of his sixty
million dollar house in Geneva, Switzerland, to when he is
lying unconscious in bed at the city’s University Hospital,
badly burnt and with multiple fractures. On the night when
he receives the $10K Darwin book in the mail—he later
confirms that it was ordered and paid for by him, even though
he cannot remember doing so—, Alex has a violent run-in
with a home invader who appears to have had knowledge of
the codes to dismantle his house’s state of the art security
system (his house, like his office, most closely resembles
a fortress). Throughout the day, more evidence comes to
light suggesting that someone is using his email account in
an attempt to ‘destroy’ (FI 138) him. “Someone’s really after
me,” he confesses to his business partner, Hugo Quarry. ‘Out
to destroy me bit by bit’ (FI 144). And it’s not only Alex
who is under attack: whoever is behind this is attempting to
take down his company as well.
As its title reveals, this is a novel about fear, and more specifi-
cally panic—both at the personal level, and in its mass form as
when, for example, ‘the market’ panics (references to theorists
of masses and groups accumulate in the novel, cf. FI 28).
3His wife’s art arguably evokes this state: ‘”n the coffee table in front of
him was one of Gabrielle’s early self-portraits: a half-metre cube, made
up of a hundred sheets of Mirogard glass, on to which she had traced
in black ink the sections of an MRI scan of her own body. The effect was
of some strange, vulnerable alien creature floating in midair” (FI 18).
1 76 ARNE DE BOEV ER
Pan’s Pharmacology
Obeisance: it’s a gloomy conclusion, to be sure, and one
that very much taps into the age-old ‘fear of technology’ or
‘technophobia’ that may strike many now as ridiculous. In
the case of The Fear Index, technophobia becomes linked to
digitalization (one could speak of high-technophobia) and
the economy—in short, to digital economy. The novel can
be read as an evocation of what I would like to call, splicing
the French words for economy, the digital, and panic together,
‘éconuméripanique’—a pathology that is characteristic of
our age. One can consider here, for example, the work of a
contemporary theorist of panic, who has approached panic
within the parameters that the novel sets up: the Italian
thinker Franco “Bifo” Berardi.
In his book After the Future Bifo returns to the topic of panic.
Here he writes about what he now refers to as the “city of
panic,” a phenomenon I’d be inclined to call (with reference
to Plato’s utopian kallipolis) a dystopian panipolis. According
to Bifo, and others who have argued the same, the ‘urban
territory is increasingly traversed’ by panic. He refers to
Salman Rushdie’s 2001 novel Fury as a book that describes
this situation: “Rushdie depicts the virtual class nervous
system, a social class of producers of signs as well as a class
of people living a common condition of evanescence and
existential fragility: cellularized splinters, fragments in a
perpetual abstract recombination of connected terminals.”
“Anxiety’ is ‘growing’ in the city, ‘the urban libidinal
economy’ is ‘going insane.’ ‘In the city of panic, there is no
longer time to get close to each other; there is no more time
for caresses, for the pleasure and slowness of whispered
words” (Berardi 2011, 94-5). Once again, it’s the end of a
relation that seems to be at stake.
already a little bit evil... But let us leave Bifo’s terms as they are:
I read Pan in a more pharmacological way. In this context, it is worth
remembering, as Jacques Derrida already pointed out, that ‘scapegoat’
is one of the meanings of the Greek word ‘pharmakon.’
1 80 ARNE DE BOEV ER
In Bifo’s view, and The Fear Index appears to see things the
same way, this situation is largely due to the rise of the digital.
Bifo in fact singles out the algorithms that are central to
Harris’ plot as one of the major players in this development.6
What we find here is another case of hightechnophobia: at
the end of the day, everything is blamed on the internet! In
case you need any more proof, when Alex’s wife Gabrielle
goes to visit one of Alex’s old colleagues at CERN, she no-
tices in the lobby of the Computing Center an “old computer
in a glass case.” “When she went closer, she read that it was
the NeXT processor that had started the World Wide Web at
CERN in 1991” (FI 211). It is here that another possible (but
no doubt apocryphal) origin of the word ‘panic,’ and another
meaning of the novel’s title, is revealed: “Pandora’s Box”
(FI 211), says the man who has come to meet Gabi—the box
that, famously, contains “elpis,” meaning ‘hope’ or ‘fear.’
Bernard Stiegler, too, insists on this in a related context.7
One cannot, then, but wonder whether The Fear Index, as a
novel that clearly comes down on the side of fear, may also
hold an element of hope within it—but what kind of hope?
And yet, even though the world of science and finance are
obviously different, the novel also brings them in uncom-
fortable proximity to each other. One of the major causes of
Alex’ corruption that the novel pursues—and one that I have
already discussed in my contribution to the first volume in
this series—is money. In the Fear Index, money reveals it-
self to be toxic, and in that sense Alex’s work at the hedge
fund needs to be set aside from his work as a scientist at
CERN. “However, there was one great difference between
the two,” as he concedes: “You couldn’t buy anything with a
nanosecond or a neurojoule,” which is how the success of
his experiments at CERN was measured. Money, however,
“was a sort of toxic by-product of his research. Sometimes
he felt it was poisoning him inch by inch, just like Marie
Curie had been killed by radiation” (FI 141).
The novel ties this trope of the ‘mad banker’ closing a deal
with the devil to one that might be its direct antecedent:
the mad scientist or ‘mad professor’ (FI 6), familiar to
us through works of fiction like Shelley’s Frankenstein.
A FICT ION OF T HE G REAT OUTDOOR S 185
And yet, the novel is largely with Alex in that it exposes that
what those who are sane in the novel perceive as madness is
in fact a reality that is fully rational: VIXAL-4 has become
truly autonomous, and is trading as an intelligence of its own,
controlling the market, making it crash, managing its trades
with this knowledge, and all the while making a profit off it.
into the immaterial world of high finance, is the ‘fat finger’ theory:
it suggests that somewhere, some banker with a fat finger hit the wrong
key on his computer keyboard, thus triggering the avalanche that led
to the crash…
1 88 ARNE DE BOEV ER
A Speculative Conclusion
The question, then, especially given the ethical and psycho-
analytic overtones of the term creature and the psychopatho-
logical angle that I have developed here, is: what do we do
about it? This final question brings me back to Bifo and his
discussion of panic. As Bifo sees it, the economy today pro-
duces a generalized state of panic, in which all of us, with-
out exception, fall prey to feeling overwhelmed, to the point
of losing every relation altogether to “the overwhelming flow
of reality, things, and information that we are surrounded by”
(Berardi 2009a, 44). Bifo thus fears a state in which there
is no more relation—a state in which, some would no doubt
venture, there is also no more ‘overwhelming,’ since that is
clearly a relational notion that is caught up in the correlation-
ist set-up of a subject perceiving the flow of reality. In such a
state of panic, then, there is simply the flow of reality, things,
and information. For Bifo, this appears to be a bad state,
produced by the contemporary economic and digital situation—
and indeed, it’s a state that has us reduced to creatures (in his
film on the September 11 terror attacks, Michael Moore has
relentlessly exposed politicians’ abuse of this state).
A FICT ION OF T HE G REAT OUTDOOR S 1 89
French words for economy, the digital, and panic that I have used
on occasion to capture the particular state of panic that The Fear
Index diagnoses.
1 90 ARNE DE BOEV ER
Berardi, Franco “Bifo,” 2011. After the Future. Gary Genosko and
Nicholas Thoburn (eds.). Trans. Arianna Bove, Melinda Cooper,
Erik Empson, et al. Edinburgh: AK Press.
Boever, Arne De, 2013. “‘All of us go a little crazy at times’: Capital and
Fiction in a State of Generalized Psychosis.” in The Psychopathologies
of Cognitive Capitalism. Part One. Ed. Arne De Boever and Warren
Neidich. Berlin: Archive Books, pp. 89-115.
Harris, Robert, 2012. The Fear Index. New York: Alfred Knopf.
Cited parenthetically as FI, followed by page reference.
Smith, Zadie, 2008. “Two Paths for the Novel.” Available online:
http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2008/nov/20/two-paths-
for-the-novel/?pagination=false [last accessed February 2014]
A Chronotopy of
Post-Fordist Labor
Bottomless Instantaneity
According to Félix Guattari (2000) nature, socius and
psyche are today exposed to the same principle: all three
are thoroughly ‘de-territorialized’. Post-industrial capitalism
—or ‘integrated world capitalism’, as he calls it—displaces
not only individuals and societies but also complete ecosystems.
A C HRON O TOPY O F POST-F OR DI ST LA BOR 197
External Trauma
A first pathology of instant bottomlessness, or bottomless
instantaneity, has to do with the fact that it flourishes in a
hyper-networked world, aided by high-tech digital informa-
tion systems. In this world, a kind of ‘timeless time’ breaks
free from the former ‘clock time’ as we know it from the in-
dustrial era. This means that time, for the first time, goes
‘beyond the feasible realm of human consciousness’ (Urry
1999, 126). One of the characteristics of such computer net-
works is that they have incredibly huge amounts of memory.
In addition, we know from our own personal computer that
it stores indelible traces of all our activities, every query we
have ever made and all images we have ever uploaded. This
capacity in itself profoundly changes our relationship with
time. Combined with techniques that make it possible to find
and retrieve files very quickly, this has the effect that the
World Wide Web is almost incapable of forgetting anything.
Stored histories, done deals, including recorded mischief, may
be catapulted back into the present in a matter of nanoseconds.
A C HRON O TOPY O F POST-F OR DI ST LA BOR 199
Global hysteria
The second pathology has to do with the devaluation of
labor security and the dismantling of state guarantees by re-
pressive liberalist politics, which are making workers in-
creasingly dependent upon real and virtual networks. In a
post-Fordist economy of temporary employment contracts,
fleeting assignments and projects in rapid succession, work-
ers constantly have to stay ‘connected’ in order to survive.
This hyper-connectivity also maintains a chronotopy of bot-
tomless instantaneity. Creative knowledge workers—espe-
cially if they are freelancers—always have to rely on their
environment to acquire new projects. After each sent email
they nervously await the answer. If it doesn’t come within
two days, they start to worry. Have they read my mail? Did
something go wrong? Or worse, did I say something wrong?
Did they hear a bad thing about me or have they dug it up
via one of the social media? Is there perhaps a totally un-
founded rumour about me doing the rounds in the network?
Was the latest job I did for them perhaps not as good as I
thought? And, worst of all, what if they have found someone
better than me? The project worker is in a permanent state
of doubt. A delay in answer could be a sign that the next as-
signment is not forthcoming. Within this context they are al-
ways dependent on others and on what they think others
think about them. Such working circumstances in turn are
the ultimate breeding ground for a pathology that had all but
vanished from the medical dictionary, i.e., hysteria. Accord-
ing to Slavoj Žižek, hysteria is defined by the question:
What kind of object am I in the eyes of the Other? It is a
question that confronts post-Fordist workers with their per-
manent state of being potentially interchangeable. All of a
sudden, the creativity or knowledge they have to offer turns
out to be not all that unique or authentic. Replaceability
confronts creative people with their own potential futility or
insignificance. Says Žižek:
A C HRON O TOPY O F POST-F OR DI ST LA BOR 201
Black Planet
A few years ago, the Amsterdam designer Thomas Buxò
proposed a remarkable version of the map of the world to me.
The bright blue colour of the water and the white, reddish-brown
and green that usually represent the landmasses on such maps
were replaced by a uniform, pitch-black background. Shining
like little stars in this dark area, which no longer showed any
distinction between land and water, were white dots that
marked the international art biennials of the past decade.
In addition to this strange typology, dots also indicated the
locations of closed asylum centres. The fact that Western
Europe was especially bright in Buxò’s world might not be
surprising. However, besides another noticeable concentra-
tion of dots in Japan, what particularly struck the eye was
the darkness in Africa.
This world looked unheimlich, and not just because it
emphasized for the umpteenth time that the distribution of
wealth easily corresponds with that of art and art tourism.
What especially evoked an uncomfortable feeling was the
geographical proximity of art biennials and asylum centres.
It underscored the fact that the right to travel, and more gener-
ally to mobility, is not inalienable for everybody on this globe.
Moreover, the geopolitical areas where this right is both
A C HRON O TOPY O F POST-F OR DI ST LA BOR 203
granted and denied are not equally distributed across the world.
The junctions where travel bans are imposed and where travel
is encouraged as an ideal way of life lie abhorrently close to
one another. Obligatory but unwanted nomads on the one hand,
voluntary and socially encouraged nomads on the other,
can almost see, smell and touch one another. The last of these
possibilities, however, is usually strictly forbidden by repres-
sive liberalism, or at least made physically difficult or even
completely impossible. The careful political segregation of
globetrotters has a bitter taste. Against this background, the
excessive enthusiasm for nomadism that has occupied the
discourse in the art world for the past fifteen years begins to
seem rather unreal.
It is easy for artists and other post-Fordist workers who are the
products of the middle or upper classes to extol a homeless
existence when they have a credit card and the proper visas
in their pockets.
It should be clear, at least, that nowadays there are different
sorts of nomads. An important distinction can be made between
two groups: those who are forced to move and those who do so
voluntarily. The latter group tends to leave the Heimat from a
comfortable position, both financially and socially. Whether
this second group, to which the earlier-mentioned curators and
artists mostly belong, can so easily identify with the first sort of
nomad is a significant question. A purely discursive and roman-
tic identification with real stateless and homeless people leads
to an aestheticization of the nomadic existence. In the same
way that Walter Benjamin (Selected Writings, Vol. 4, 1938-
1940) pointed out the problem of the aestheticization of politics
in fascism, here we can pose the question of whether the aes-
theticization of the nomadic existence does not in fact serve the
prevailing repressive liberal hegemony, including post-Fordist
working conditions.
Mobile Loner
Both Richard Sennett (1998) and Luc Boltanski & Eve
Chiapello (2005) argue that the dominant form of economic
policy that is currently spreading across the globe actually
welcomes the mobile person with open arms. This is espe-
cially the case when that mobile man or woman is employ-
able for the further accumulation of capital. Boltanski and
Chiapello even claim that nowadays mobility is one of the
most important discriminating factors around which a new
kind of class segregation is taking shape. The more mobile
people and their products are, the more chance they have
of getting ahead. On the other hand, people who for one
reason or another are tied to a locality have fewer possi-
bilities of working themselves higher up the ladder.
A C HRON O TOPY O F POST-F OR DI ST LA BOR 207
This is why the social mobility of women is still lower than that
of men, because statistically speaking they are still more women
tied to their children and family than their male partners are.
And this is also why speculators and investors can grow rich
more easily than business owners and corporate directors, who
are tied to their means of production. Money is, simply put,
much more mobile than machines, conveyor belts, personnel
and other means of production. Those who are involved only
with speculation can reposition their efforts much more easily
and quickly than those who have to deal with relocating an
entire factory. Flows of capital, which thanks to today’s digital
transactions race around the globe at lightning speed, have
increased liquidity throughout the world. They obligate both
employers and workers to quickly and flexibly take advantage
of new market demands, and therefore new work situations.
This is why economic fugitives are not the only ones who
chase after capital. Entrepreneurs and corporate directors are
also being increasingly forced to relocate their production
centres, while managers feel obligated to change their em-
ployer and workplace once every five to seven years—that
is, if they want to continue moving up the social ladder.
A nomadic existence is extremely functional for an econ-
omy driven less by production, or even consumption, and
increasingly by a hyper-dynamic of liquid assets. Moreover,
as we know, individuals are more mobile than collectives,
such as entire production units, teams, but also families.
What is more, the ‘lone’ nomad, such as the freelancer that
has been promoted by repressive liberalism, cannot fall back
on unions and other collective assurances of solidarity that
are so bothersome for employers. In short, the current re-
pressive liberal hegemony that keeps the global casino
going with extremely virtual games has every interest in de-
claring its players outlaws. The individual nomad fits that
profile perfectly. Then why would the art world want to go
along with this nomadeology by gathering a positive moral-
ity around this highly vulnerable mobile person?
2 08 PA SCAL GI ELEN
For the record, this loaded word does not refer to the historical
state communism as we knew it in the USSR, nor to the author-
itarian one-party policy that we still see in North-Korea today.
On the contrary, the communism referred to here is stateless,
precisely because it is nomadic. This is the communistic ideal
(Deleuze and Guattari would have spoken of a ‘thought’,
which according to them is always nomadic) that has been
elaborated by the French philosopher Alain Badiou (2009),
among others. Communism then amounts to a universal call
to radical equality in an endless variety of forms.
Only when artists’ journeys reveal inequalities, and when
their singular artistic acts make them part of collective eman-
cipatory subjectivities, does this nomadism come alive politi-
cally. To deal with external trauma (as I have labelled it
above), artists could, for instance, socialize a practice in
which they developed a particular set of skills, namely
‘telling stories’. Narratives in all kinds of artistic forms and
media characteristically embed individuals in a social context.
For this ‘grounding exercise’ art makes use of, among other
things, expressive means such as an exhibition, a novel, a
musical concert, or a theatre or dance performance. Through
public performances, art attempts to generate social support in
order to then establish a cultural foundation beneath its own
idiosyncrasy. As noted elsewhere (see Gielen 2011), the art-
fulness of art since the modern era has consisted specifically
of generating a broader collective basis for a singular, some-
times highly idiosyncratic idea. The point of this is not to con-
quer a market or gather votes, but to time and again initiate a
process-like movement from a singular idea to a collective-
ness, be it large or small. It is important to note here that this
movement is a completely different one from that of mass
media, which, by contrast, try to determine the greatest com-
mon denominator within the collective in order to ventilate
and capitalize upon it time and again. For example, mass
media achieve this by individualization and personalization of
structural socio-political problems and collective struggles.
A C HRON O TOPY O F POST-F OR DI ST LA BOR 215
BAVO, 2010. Too Active to Act. Cultureel activisme na het einde van
de geschiedenis. Amsterdam: Valiz.
Black, Carolyn (2005). “Quo Vadis: Cultural Identity and the Nomadic
Artist,” in NAN Publications. Available online: http://www.a-n.co.uk:
81/nan/article/209957/209954 [last accessed February 2014]
Boltanski, Luc, and Chiapello, Eve, 2005. The New Spirit of Capitalism.
London and New York: Verso.
Guattari, Félix, 2009. The Three Ecologies. London and New York:
Continuum.
Sennet, Richard, 2006. The Culture of the New Capitalism. New Heaven
and London: Yale University Press.
Sleep with Art?” in CAC interview, issue 20-21, Vilnius, March 2013.
2 22 ALEXEI PENZIN WITH MARIA CHEKHONADSIKH
Indeed, when I started this research, very little work had been
done in this field, a few more or less theoretical and eclectic
attempts existed in sociology, empirical anthropology and
history: like the pioneering work by the sociologist Murray
Melbin Night as Frontier: Colonizing the World After Dark,
which, published in 1987, was devoted to the ‘colonization
of night-time.’ Other books which historically look at the
subject are A. Roger Ekirch’s At Day’s Close: Night in Times
Past (2005) and also the anthropological work by Brigitte
Steger and Lodewijk Brunt Night-time and Sleep in Asia and
the West: Exploring the Dark Side of Life (2003). As regards to
philosophy, there was the book by the Austrian thinker Walter
Seitter titled Geschichte der Nacht [History of the Night, 1999].
I read it only later, after I had already started to elaborate a
theoretical framework for my studies, and was surprised by
some shared intuitions and references that really inspired me
in my enterprise, which at that time was sometimes perceived
as unusual and exotic by a selection of my colleagues. Seitter’s
book, however, was quite removed in terms of my political
concerns and the general Marxist framework of what I was
conceiving. Then in 2007 the outstanding French philosopher
Jean-Luc Nancy published a small book entitled Tomber de
sommeil [The Fall of Sleep]. I both admired this book and was
puzzled by it, partly because it stood in the way of the more
political understanding of the problematics I was pursuing,
instead encapsulating them inside a poetical and rather
apolitical—though very insightful—reading.
Ekirch, Roger, 2005. At Day’s Close: Night in Times Past. New York:
W. W. Norton & Company.
SECTIO N 3
1.
The brain is frequently presented both as a potential
site and substance of radical transformation—a utopian
form of ‘wonder tissue,’ a ‘difference machine,’ an ‘uncertain
system,’ contrasting with the more static, deterministic schemes
envisaged either by darkly portrayed ‘mechanistic materialists’
or ‘nefarious neurophilosophers’ (see Wolfe 2007 for a
discussion)—and, quite symmetrically, as the focus and
resource of consumer neuroscience, ‘semiocapital’2 or
‘neurocapitalism.’ Indeed, the first concept I discuss here,
cognitive capitalism, is itself treacherous, ‘two-faced’ in its
aporias: is it a cyber-metaphysics of frictionless capitalism?
Or is it a Negrist messianic Golem-construction destined
to bring revolutionary pathos, desire, libido, affect thun-
dering through the neuronal avenues that capitalism, its
consultants, the Rand Corporation and the MIT MediaLab
thought had been successfully colonized and turned into
saleable commodities, a.k.a. ‘consumer neuroscience’?
1 This translates: ‘One most start from affects to destroy the enemy.
2.
Faced with the fact that our cultural-symbolic envi-
ronment, which provides the scaffolding for complex rep-
resentational structures, can alter the neural architecture of
the developing brain (Quartz & Sejnowski 1997; Quartz
1999; Donald 2001, 153, 212; Thompson 2007, 408), two
distinct responses can be imagined.3
3 I don’t argue for this ‘fact’ here, which emerges from many studies
dating back to James Mark Baldwin in the early 1900s, through Lev
Vygotsky and his younger collaborator Aleksandr Luria in the 1920s,
to work on neural plasticity (including Atsushi Iriki’s ground-breaking
research with primates and tools), Terrence Deacon’s ‘coevolution’
model of language and brain from the late 1990s, which explains the
evolution of the prefrontal cortex as reflecting ‘the evolutionary adap-
tation to this intensive working memory processing demand imposed
by symbol learning’ (Deacon 2003, 100), and Lambros Malafouris’s
cognitive archaeology. Even in writing critical of some neuroscientific
claims, it is acknowledged that ‘neuroscience construes the brain more
and more as an active organism that shapes its environment and is
shaped by it’ (Hartmann 2012, 80).
2 48 CHARL ES T. WOLF E
4 See the early work of David Rieff, Sofia Coppola, and more explicitly
3.
My concern indeed is the relation between brains,
subjectivity and the transformative, symbolic dimensions which
Vygotsky saw so clearly already in the 1920s and which in
the past decades we have come to associate with the ‘Bald-
win effect’ and some writings of Paolo Virno (2003; see also
Depew & Weber 2003; Papineau 2005; Lachapelle et al.
2006): the social brain. The Baldwin effect describes ways in
which non-biological traits such as linguistic and cultural be-
haviors can be assimilated in such a way as to be transmitted.
ist inclinations of the present essay, but the challenge she poses to the
“confort intellectuel” of a Spinoza-Deleuze-Negri politics of potential-
ity, ‘infinitely extended toward infinite perfection,’ is a real one, and I
acknowledge it.
2 56 CHARL ES T. WOLF E
The brain and affect in this context are closer to what the
18th-century surgeon Georges Arnaud de Ronsil (1768, 246)
said, reacting to the case of hermaphrodites: ce n’est qu’à
peine que l’on reconnaît la nature dans la nature meme
[it is only with difficulty that we can recognize Nature in
Nature itself]. He had not read “Middlesex” to find out that
hermaphrodites have desires like you or me; Ronsil is upset
that nature has done something wrong. Ronsil’s fears about
hermaphrodites (and their implied self-destruction of any
normativity in nature, as if by hara-kiri) clarify that whether
it is a teenager’s brain after years of compulsive gaming, a
psychopath’s brain or Lord Byron’s 2200g brain, your brain
or mine contemplating, now the Kaaba, now James Turrell’s
“Pleiades” (1983) at the Mattress Factory in Pittsburgh, the
difference between ‘natural’ and ‘unnatural’ becomes at best
a matter of convenience, at worst completely empty.
But, my objector will say, this is not enough. For
this problem of a lack of room for dysfunction, monstrosity
or psychopathology is part of a broader reproach sometimes
heard against Spinozo-Deleuzo-Negrist politics and meta-
physics (this is somewhat redundant since a distinctive feature
of this tradition is that the two are folded into one another, in a
prominent motif of Negri’s “Savage Anomaly” [Negri 1991]):
that it folds all struggle into a plane of immanence in which all
cows are grey. As Rancière (2011, 135) put it:
Guattari did, for unclear reasons given his own subtle and well-articu-
lated criticisms of the older dialectical-materialist, Hegelian-Marxist,
party-dictatorship model.
2 58 CHARL ES T. WOLF E
4.
Calls for a politics of affects have been heard from a
variety of quarters, often influenced by Spinoza or at least
Spinoza as reconstructed and joyfully revived since the
late 1960s, by figures such as Gilles Deleuze, Alexandre
Matheron, Pierre Macherey and Antonio Negri.15
On the more naturalistic side, such invocations of
a return to the primacy of affect, or affects, have sought
support in so-called ‘affective neuroscience’ (e.g. Damasio
2003),16 which in its most technical sense, associated
with Joseph LeDoux (see LeDoux 1998) and Antonio
Damasio (more controversially), is the idea that emotions
such as fear ‘are not necessarily mediated through a cogni-
tive appraisal (that is, a mental representation) of the
fearful stimulus, which would necessitate an engagement
of the prefrontal cortex (one of the sites centrally implicated
in cognitive functioning)’ (Papoulias & Callard 2010, 40).
For LeDoux, the temporality of affectivity is of a scale
such that it cannot be perceived by our senses. For Damasio
and LeDoux, then, emotions constitute a pre-reflective
realm of affectivity that pre-exists our folk understanding
of ‘self,’ in which a Spinozist automatic background
could be imagined; consider that ‘the affect is impersonal
and is distinct from every individual State of things:
15 In English, a later but extremely useful work is Gatens and Lloyd (1999).
18 (There was some truth to this, if only in a faintly Hegelian sense in which
the exaggeration is ‘the true.’) Yann Moulier Boutang describes the intel-
lectual and political context for the accusation of ‘left-wing Schmittianism’
(and tries to articulate a model for a ‘revolutionary usage of reactionary
thought’) at http://multitudes.samizdat.net/Y-a-t-il-un-usage-de-gauche-
de-la [last accessed February 2014]. For a more precise analysis, see Jean-
Claude Monod (2005, 2006). See also Yoshihiko Ichida’s very suggestive
essay, “Subject to subject: Are we all Schmittians in politics?” (2005).
CULTURED BRA IN S AND TH E
2 61
PROD UCTI ON OF SUBJ ECT IVI TY
19 http://unemployednegativity.blogspot.com/2011/05/affective-
20 Ulus Baker was a Turkish radical intellectual whose work on the sociol-
ogy of culture and cinema explicitly seeks to extend the project of a ‘soci-
ology of affects.’ In a different version of this essay I seek to contextualize
his work in a Spinozist and Negrist context. I thank Harun Abuşoğlu for
introducing me to Ulus’s work and encouraging me to write on it.
CULTURED BRA IN S AND TH E
2 63
PROD UCTI ON OF SUBJ ECT IVI TY
5.
Prima facie, attempts to give a natural (usually evolu-
tionary) grounding for ethical and political life deserve the
suspicious reactions they get (from sociobiology in the old days
to evolutionary psychology both then and now). But something
quite different occurs in the politics of affect. Geist now means
the brain, something that was intimated by Deleuze and Guattari
(1994, 209) in “What is Philosophy?” when they suggested
that the future of the Geisteswissenschaften—for them, all
disciplines dealing with ‘the mental,’ from philosophy to
art and science—lay in the folds of an uncertain, chaotic,
‘nonobjectifiable brain’ (see also Murphie 2010). Warren
Neidich (2003) has articulated an extremely original model
for relating ‘cultural plasticity’ and ‘brain plasticity’ in his
theoretical work and artistic practice. Basically, if the brain is
already social and the organism is a ‘developmental system’
inseparable from its environment, knee-jerk anti-naturalism is
an unnecessary attitude to have towards the politics of affect.
It is as if ideology critique always ends up having bad natural-
ism chase away the better kinds (Citton & Lordon 2008, 11).
2 64 CHARL ES T. WOLF E
23A clear, reasonable warning on these issues (which has the significant
advantage of being naturalistic, rather than a defense of the mystique
of art) is Malafouris (2013).
2 66 CHARL ES T. WOLF E
24 See http://metro.co.uk/2013/08/16/bioware-writer-quits-after-death-
Damasio, Antonio, 2003. Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, and the
Feeling Brain, New York: Harcourt.
Protevi, John, 2009. Political Affect: Connecting the Social and the
Somatic, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
2 72 CHARL ES T. WOLF E
Surel, Olivier, 2014. “Jakob von Uexküll: Une Ontologie des Milieux,”
in Critique 803.
von Uexküll, Jakob, 2010. A Foray Into The Worlds Of Animals And
Humans, trans. Joseph D. O’Neil, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota
Press, a translation of Umwelt und Innenwelt der Tiere (1934).
van der Veer, René and Valsiner, Jaan, 1991. Understanding Vygotsky.
A Quest for Synthesis, London: Blackwell.
Weber, Bruce H., and Depew, David J. (eds.), 2003. Evolution and
Learning: The Baldwin Effect Reconsidered. Cambridge: MIT Press.
Zeki, Semir, 1999. Inner vision: An exploration of art and the brain,
Oxford: Oxford University Press.
MATT EO PA SQUINE LLI 2 75
Goldstein, Kurt, 1934. Der Aufbau des Organismus. Den Haag: Ni-
jhoff. Trans. The Organism. New York: American Book Company,
1939; Zone Books, 1995.
Metzinger, Thomas, 2009. The Ego Tunnel: The Science of the Mind
and the Myth of the Self. New York: Basic Books.
Preface
We are writing in the year 2014. Information increasingly
becomes a desire, the necessity in the form of communication.
Desire is an extension of the brain while communication
seemingly combines heuristic operations in design develop-
ment, and reaches beyond thermodynamics. More than 65
years ago, Norbert Wiener’s “Cybernetics – the Control and
Communication in the Animal and the Machine” (Wiener,
1948) is published, the Macy Conferences then titled Circular
Causal and Feedback Mechanisms in Biological and Social
Systems are in their 3rd year and following von Neumann’s
findings on the Ergodic Theorem, the Cellular Automaton are on
their way.1 In the meantime Baby, the Manchester Small-Scale
Experimental Machine and the world’s first stored-program
computer, tested for the so-called Williams Tube (a lightweight
storage device) runs its first program. The Universal Turing
Machine becomes the continuing driver for computation.2
has the ability to read any Turing Machine and input for simulation.
In this present philosophy of computation al architecture, Turing’s UTM
is applicable and can be transferred from virtual to tangible.
2 94 LISS C . WERNER
I N T E R N E T — N O N - L I N E A R PA R A - S PA C E —
GENEALOGICAL STRING OF THOUGHTS — Since the
late 1980s we have grown extensions of our minds beyond
the individual body and brain into a physical environment;
transformed into binary language, in overlapping simulta-
neous worlds, providing input from remote locations and
IP addresses, output generated by accumulating information
originally produced by grey matter around the globe. For
approximately the past 15 years architects have officially
started incorporating system thinking into their work and
admitting that we are designers of systems and fields rather
then sculptors of discrete objects or fields only. Since the
advent of fast data highways, open source software and a
culture that happily shares knowledge in specialized forums
the options to design have increased by a large extent.
Uploading and sharing code and scripts is extending our
individual possibilities to design into the world, the Internet,
an unimaginable space inhabited by collective design intel-
ligence. Upon the code’s return, it may have not merely
adjusted its phenotypic character, but possibly even changed
into a different creature with new characteristics, mutated
through the filter of “Electronics virtual communities [that]
represent flexible, lively and practical adaptations to the real
circumstances” (Stone 1991, 111). Especially in the field of
architects and designers who develop and use tools based
on code, the early 21st century offers a quantum leap in the
evolution of the virtual excelling traditional methods of
design. Drawing boards have been replaced with light pro-
grams using slender code rather than heavy three-dimensional
‘fancier’ models; office, brain and design abilities are ex-
tended to forums for multi peer reviews, design changes and
advice. This process eliminated economically compensation,
local independency, and software packages that in very
many cases are free to run on machines that are generally
affordable and increased the amount of cognitive capital.
3 08 LISS C . WERNER
Ashby, Ross, 1954. The Animal as Machine. New York: John Wiley &
Sons Inc.
Deleuze, Gilles, 1991. The Fold: Leibniz and the Baroque. Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press.
Stone, Allucquere Rosanne, 1991. “Will The Real Body Please Stand
Up,” in Michael Benedikt (ed.), Cyberspace First Steps. Cambridge:
MIT Press.
Protevi, John, 2010. “Deleuze and Wexler: Thinking Brain, Body and
Affect in Social Context,” in Cognitive Architecture. From Biopolitics
to Noopolitics. Architecture & Mind in the Age of Communication and
Information. Rotterdam: 010 Publishers.
3 12
Neuroecology:
Notes Toward a Synthesis
1 The theory of speech acts was initially developed by John Austin in the
1950s as part of a development in language philosophy that considered
the ‘actual’ uses and operations of language, rather than its merely formal
ones. Austin distinguished between ‘constative’ utterances whose primary
purpose was descriptive of states of things in the world—utterances
that ‘stated’ something—that could be subject to true/false criteria and
‘performative’ utterances whose primary effect (and purpose) was to
effectuate something, to cause an action or change of state. In his inimi-
table words: “To say something is to do something”. Typical examples
include speech acts such as “I do.” through which one changes one’s
civil status (among other things). (Austin 1962).
3 14 SAN FORD KWIN TER
Paleopolitical Framework
The primary pressures exerted on the development of
human nervous response—thinking, feeling and percei-
ving—not different, for significantly long period at least,
from the pressures on all other organisms—were those di-
rected to predator and anti-predator activity.
for a ‘new neurohistory’ that accounts for the constitutive role that
psychotropic processes play in shaping and driving human history.
See his On Deep History and the Brain, University of California
Press, Los Angeles, 2008 and Andrew Shycock and Daniel Lord
Smail, Deep History: The Architecture of Past and Present, University
of California Press, Los Angeles, 2011.
NEU ROEC OL OG Y:
3 21
NOT ES TOWAR D A S YN THES IS
4 The English word spoor derives from the Afrikaans (and Dutch) and
refers to any mark, trace, disturbance or sign in the environment cau-
sed by the presence or passage of an animal. It frequently connotes a
linear series that in its aggregate produces a ‘track’ that is typically fol-
lowed by a hunter and which lends to the word one of its most com-
mon, but narrowest, meanings. Spoor refers not only to tracks that one
follows, but to the entire system of legible modifications of a world by
the organisms that comprise it. Arguably, an organism is inseparable
from its spoor, and its relationships to other organisms consists in large
part of the readings and communications generated by them, which is
arguably the principal task of any nervous system in nature.
3 22 SAN FORD KWIN TER
Because humans have large brains, short faces and small, spe-
cialized teeth—all effects of the environment-derived pressures
to change diet and by extension to change all modalities of
combustion including information-processing ones—we do not
possess snouts and therefore lack the hollow nasal chambers
and the veinous adaptations in the head that most other ani-
mals use to cool the blood that feeds the brain. (Snouts serve
as radiators.) If apes aspired to compete in savannah habitats
they were going to require innovative adaptations to manage
the heat stress that came with this environment. All other sa-
vannah mammals use ‘selective cooling’ based on the protru-
ding face, the hollow snout and an anatomical formation
known as the carotid rete in which blood is pooled in the sinus
area or neck for cooling. Humans cannot do this; their brain is
proportionately too large and would require a neck as wide as
its thorax. Humans must use general (full body) cooling.
range, despite the fact that their stereoscopic vision permits them to see
very great distances. It would seem that humans are the only primates
who can—and do—go where they see. See John Reader, Africa: A Bio-
graphy of the Continent, Knopf, New York, 1998. Also pertinent is the
influential work of Robin Dunbar on cortical capacity and psychogeo-
graphy, “The Social Brain Hypothesis,” in Evolutionary Anthropology,
Wiley, 1998, pp. 178-190, and “Coevolution of neocortical size, group
size and language in humans. Behav Brain Sci 11:681–735. 1993.
3 24 SAN FORD KWIN TER
Human life in all its diversity and manifoldness, and the human
physical form that enacts and gives style to it—and in this I in-
clude our beautiful (intelligent) faces, flat stomachs, dexterous
hands, subtle humor—our complex behaviors, and our notable
species achievements such as language, technology and cul-
ture, are certainly at least in part, ecological responses to the
broader and more mundane economics of satisfying the dietary
and ethological demands of a large brain (Reader 1998, 90).
the Mind, New York: Basic Books, 1992; Neural Darwinism: The
Theory of Neuronal Group Selection. New York: Basic Books, 1987;
Peter Huttenlocher, Neural Plasticity: The Effects of Environment
on the Development of the Cerebral Cortex, Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, Cambridge, 2002; Joseph LeDoux, Synaptic Self:
How our Brains Become Who We Are, New York: Viking, 2002.
NEU ROEC OL OG Y:
3 27
NOT ES TOWAR D A S YN THES IS
10 The latter is a crude approximation that belies the reality that the brain is a
14 See Bruce Wexler, Brain and Culture and Shaping the Environ-
Edelman, Gerald M., 1992. Bright Air, Brilliant Fire: On the Matter
of the Mind. New York: Basic Books.
LeDoux, Joseph, 2002. Synaptic Self: How our Brains Become Who
We Are. New York: Viking.
Lieberman, Daniel E., 2013. The Story of the Human Body: Evolution,
Health and Disease. New York: Pantheon.
Mayr, Ernst, 2001. What Evolution Is. New York: Basic Books.
Smail, Daniel, 2008. On Deep History and the Brain. Los Angeles:
University of California Press.
Uexkull, Jakob von, 2010. A Foray Into the Worlds of Animals and
Humans. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press.
Computational Architecture
and the Statisticon
Introduction
The recent connection of neuro-biopolitical inquiry to post-
Operaist ontologies has created new linkages towards a
deeper understanding of the causes, mediations, and cures
of Cognitive Capitalism and opened a new form analysis
to an activist readership. I would like to continue this con-
versation by moving forward the process I started in Cogntive
Architecture: From Biopolitics to NooPolitics (Hauptman
and Neidich 2010) and The Psychopathologies of Cognitive
Capitalism, Part One (De Boever and Neidich 2013) to
produce a new language with which to understand the
political and cultural consequences of digital architectures
upon our contemporary brain and minds. I would like to
suggest a new opening for critical architecture by suggesting
an alternative locus for the repercussions of avant-garde
architecture and architectural theory that is the neuroplastic
potential of the brain which forms one of the core conditions
of what I call neuropower. (Neidich 2009) An approach,
I might add, that is non-reductive or cognitivist but culturally
biased and ontogenic.
3 36 WA RR EN NEIDICH
Preliminary Remarks:
Neuroplasticity
There are two kinds of cultural neural modulation: the
generational and trans-generational models. Both models
describe a process of epigenesis in which the environment
interacts with a priori genetically inscribed unfolding of the
matter of the brain. In the generational model, as the name
implies, this process is related to events that are occurring
in the life of that subject and the changes occurring in the
microarchitectures of the brain’s basic units of function, its
neurons mostly at the axon-dendrite junctions or synapses
a process called selective stabilization as well as its dy-
namic functional networks. (Changeux 1985) In the trans-
generational model, recurrent cultural events like the discovery
and implementation of reading and writing occurring consis-
tently over the course of many generations and which, there-
fore become stable conditions of, for instance, built space,
as reflected today in our symbolic and mediated spaces, are
reflected in changes in the organs of the brain over time.
Trans-generational Plasticity
Trans-generational changes in neurobiological architecture
are nicely exemplified by the development of writing
and arithmetic some 6,000 years ago, with the first use of
Sumerian tablets. As every neuroscientist knows, when a
patient or subject reads while his brain is being scanned in-
side an MRI machine specific areas of the brain will light
up. For instance, there is evidence that an area called the
Visual Word Form Area (VWFA) located at the junction
of the occipito-temporal sulcus, in the posterior part of the
brain, is highly tuned to acquired script. This is paradoxical
since there has not been enough time yet elapsed for such an
area to form in such a short time period. (Deheane et al. 2004)
3 44 WA RR EN NEIDICH
And what are the apparatuses of Junkspace. What are its en-
gram-exogram assemblages? Is there a positivist treatise on
their design history? According to Koolhaas there is no de-
sign but only creative proliferation that will in the end pro-
duce an alternative history of things in transition. “Where
once detailing suggested the coming together, possibly for-
ever, of disparate materials, it is now a transient coupling,
waiting to be undone, unscrewed, a temporary embrace that
none of its constituent parts may survive” (ibid. 140).
Carr, Nicolas, 2008. “Is Google Making US Stupid, What the Internet
is doing to our brains?” in The Atlantic Review, July/August.
Crary, Jonathan, 2013. 24/7: Late Capitalism and the Ends of Sleep.
London: Verso, 2013.
Donald, Merlin, 2008. “How Culture and the Brain Mechanisms Interact
in Decision Making,” in Christoph Engel and Wolf Singer (eds.), Better
Than Conscious? Decision Making, the Human Mind, and Implications
for Institutions. Cambridge: MIT Press.
Edelman, Gerald and Gally, Joseph A., 2001. “ Gally , Degeneracy and
Complexity in Biological Systems,” in PNAS, November, 2001, Volume
98, Number No. 24, pp.13763-13768.
Edelman, Gerald, 1989. The Remembered Present. New York: Basic Books.
Hays, Michael and Alecia Kennedy, Alecia, 2000. “After All, or the
End of ‘The End of’.” In Assemblage 41. Cambridge: MIT Press.
http://www.wired.com/2010/03/thought-control-headset-reads-you-mind/
[last accessed May 2014].
Lynn, Greg, 1999. Animate Form. New York: Princeton Architectural Press.
Pariser, Eli, 2011. The Filter Bubble, How the New Personalized Web is
Changing What We Read and What We Think. London: Penguin Books.