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The Vital Role of Education in Authoritarian Times

By. Henry A. Giroux

For decades, I have challenged the notion that schools are simply black boxes mired in structures of domination. While the early leftist criticism of schooling was correct in challenging the idea that schools were agencies of meritocracy and equal opportunity removed from larger structures of capitalist domination, it lacked, with few exceptions (such as Paul Willis’s Learning to Labour), any sense of resistance, and as such lacked any notion of hope. Resistance and hope, coupled with a comprehensive understanding of theory, politics and education, have played a crucial role in my later work, particularly in my later analysis of the war on youth, the centrality of pedagogy to cultural studies, neoliberalism’s assault on higher education and other related issues.

In July 2017, I was fortunate to participate in an interview that attempted to look at the totality of my work on education, cultural studies, pedagogy, youth studies and a range of other topics. The interview, captured here in a just-released film debuting on Truthout, begins with an analysis of the historical conditions that produced one of my most important books, Theory and Resistance in Education, and that had a formative influence it had on much of my of my later work.

The interview also deals with the challenges of resistance today, given the power of modes of pedagogy that exist outside of schools, particularly under the toxic regime of neoliberalism. Not only have the sites or modes of pedagogy expanded in a range of cultural apparatuses extending from digital and print culture to screen culture, but the very spaces for sustained and critical thought have been shrinking.

At the same time, new spaces of resistance have opened up in light of the emergence of new technologies, the increasing radicalization of young people and the search for a new understanding of politics, one that makes sense of the relationship between local politics and global power formations. The interview explores these new sites of hope. It also explores how both public schools and higher education have come under assault by a range of ideological, cultural and economic forces tied to a variety of right-wing and conservative ideologies and fundamentalisms — religious, market-based, military-oriented, racist and sexist. Due to all of these forces, there is an urgent need to retheorize matters of education, power and politics itself.

Capitalism no longer simply exploits as its main engine of domination; it now renders increasing numbers of people disposable.

One of the central elements of discussion in the interview is the issue of border crossing and the politics of disposability. This politics points to not only new forms of domination, but also suggests rethinking politics beyond simply questions of exploitation. In other words, capitalism no longer simply exploits as its main engine of domination; it now renders increasing numbers of people disposable — whether we are talking about Muslims, workers, youth of color, poor Black communities such as Flint, Michigan, or an increasing number of other groups. Disposability is the register of a new politics of oppression central to the emergence of financial capital, and it must be addressed as part of a new mode of politics and global resistance. Disposability points to distinct economic, political and cultural contexts in which new forms of exclusion are entangled with emerging modes of authoritarianism that are reshaping matters of ideology, knowledge and power. The logic of disposability has become the driving force of a powerful machinery of social death.

Also vital to address in these oppressive times is a narrow notion of dystopia, which is now attached to almost any form of criticism. Rather than opening a window to the need for real struggles, this notion of dystopia collapses into the discourse of cynicism. In the interview, I reject this view by making clear that criticism is the precondition for not only changing consciousness, but also making visible new forms of domination and power that have to be confronted if people are going to be able to understand the oppressive conditions in which they find themselves. Rather than insert criticism, dialogue and the social imagination within the toxic charge of a distorted and reactionary notion dystopia, the interview addresses criticism and the existing conditions of oppression as a starting point for individual and collective forms of struggle. The engagement with dystopia in this case is a precondition for developing a discourse of both critique and hope, not despair.

It is crucial for us to address this question head on: What is the role of public and higher education, especially in a time of tyranny? What does critical pedagogy look like and how is it put into play so as to make a viable and lasting connection between learning and critical thought, engaged agency and social responsibility, learning and social change? Central to this interview is the point that education is crucial to politics itself, and that any viable sense of theory, politics and resistance will have to address this issue.

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http://www.truth-out.org/news/item/42217-the-vital-role-of-education-in-a-time-of-tyranny

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Rethinking Higher Education in a Time of Tyranny

Dr. Henry Giroux

What kind of democracy is possible when the institutions that are crucial to a vibrant civil society are vanishing?

Many of the great peace activists of the 20th century, extending from Mahatma Gandhi and Paulo Freire to Jane Addams and Martin Luther King Jr., shared a passion for education as an important part of the democratic project. Refusing to view education as neutral or reducing it to the instrumental practice of training, they sought to reclaim education as a practice of freedom, part of a wider struggle to deepen and extend the values, social relations and institutions of a substantive democracy.

They understood that tyranny and authoritarianism are not just the product of state violence and repression; they also thrive on popular docility, mass apathy and a flight from moral responsibility. They argued passionately that education could not be removed from the demand for justice and progressive social change. In doing so, they recognized the value of education and its ability to transform how people understand themselves, their relations to others and the larger world. In the face of massive injustice and indignity, these prophetic voices refused to look away from human suffering, and embraced the possibility for resistance fueled by courage, compassion and the ability to think otherwise in order to act otherwise.

Let us hope that in the midst of our witness to the current revolt against democracy, higher education will neither remain silent nor be too late.

One of Martin Luther King’s great insights was his recognition that education provided a bulwark against both ignorance and indifference in the face of injustice. Like Gandhi, he warned people over and over again not to remain silent in the face of racism, militarism and extreme materialism, and argued that “he who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it.” Of the civil rights era, King warned that “history will have to record that the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition was not the strident clamor of the bad people, but the appalling silence of the good people.… In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”1

Advocates of civic courage and compassion reflected in their words and actions what King called the “fierce urgency of now,” reminding us that “tomorrow is today” and that “there is such a thing as being too late.”2 Let us hope that in the midst of our witness to the current revolt against democracy, higher education will neither remain silent nor be too late.

Echoing King’s belief that American innocence was neither tenable nor forgivable, the great novelist James Baldwin filled in the missing language of fear and terrorism at the heart of a racist society. His famed “Talk to Teachers” began with an impassioned warning about the times in which he lived, a warning more relevant now than it was when he delivered the speech in 1963. He said:

Let’s begin by saying that we are living through a very dangerous time. Everyone in this room is in one way or another aware of that. We are in a revolutionary situation, no matter how unpopular that word has become in this country. The society in which we live is desperately menaced… from within. To any citizen of this country who figures himself as responsible — and particularly those of you who deal with the minds and hearts of young people — must be prepared to “go for broke.”3

In the context of a worldwide rebellion currently taking place against democracy, dissent, human rights and justice, I think we need to “go for broke.” Authoritarianism is on the rise once again, emerging in countries in which such a politics, in light of the past, has appeared unthinkable. In Hungary, Russia, India, Turkey and Poland, democracy is being voted down and aggressively dismantled. In addition, a new and dangerous moment has emerged in the United States as it becomes clear that an American-style authoritarianism is no longer the stuff of fantasy, fiction or hysterical paranoia.

In the context of a worldwide rebellion currently taking place against democracy, dissent, human rights and justice, I think we need to ‘go for broke.’

This summer in Charlottesville, hundreds of neo-Nazis marched brandishing torches reminiscent of Hitler’s Germany while shouting white nationalist slogans such as “Heil Trump,” and later unleashing an orgy of violence that led to the deaths of three people. Donald Trump, the president of the United States, stated there were good people on both sides of that rally as if good people march with white supremacists and neo-Nazis who revel in hate and offer no apologies for mimicking the actions that resulted in the slaughter of millions during the fascist nightmare of the 1930s and 1940s.

Donald Trump’s ascendancy to the presidency speaks not only to a profound political crisis but also to a tragedy for democracy.4 His rise to power echoes not only a moral blind spot in the collective American psyche, but also a refusal to recognize how past totalitarian ideas can and have reappeared in different forms in the present. The return of a demagogue who couples the language of fear, decline and hate with illusions of national grandiosity have found their apotheosis in the figure of Donald Trump. He is the living symbol and embodiment of a growing culture of unbridled and naked selfishness, the collapse of civic institutions, and a ruinous anti-intellectualism that supports a corrupt political system and a toxic form of white supremacy that has been decades in the making. There is nothing natural or inevitable about these changes. They are learned behaviors. As shared fears replace any sense of shared responsibility, the American public is witnessing how a politics of racism and hate creates a society plagued by fear and divisiveness.

As shared fears replace any sense of shared responsibility, the American public is witnessing how a politics of racism and hate creates a society plagued by fear and divisiveness.

While numerous forces have led to the election of Donald Trump, it is crucial to ask how a poisonous form of education developed in the larger society, one that has contributed to the toxic culture that both legitimated Trump and encouraged so many millions of people to follow him. Part of the answer lies in the right-wing media with its vast propaganda machines, the rise of conservative foundations such as the Koch brothers’ various institutes, the ongoing production of anti-public intellectuals and a visual culture increasingly dominated by the spectacle of violence and reality TV. On a more political note, it is crucial to ask how the educative force of this toxic culture goes unchallenged in creating a public that embraced Trump’s bigotry, narcissism, lies, public history of sexual groping and racism, all the while transforming the citizen as a critical political agent into a consumer of hate and anti-intellectualism.

News morphs into entertainment as thoughtlessness increases ratings, violence feeds the spectacle and serious journalism is replaced by empty cosmetic stenographers. Language is pillaged as meaningful ideas are replaced “by information broken into bits and bytes [along with] the growing emphasis on immediacy and real time responses.”5 In the face of this dumbing down, critical thinking and the institutions that promote a thoughtful and informed polity disappear into the vast abyss of what might be called a disimagination machine. Nuance is transformed into state-sanctioned vulgarity. How else to explain the popularity and credibility of terms such post-truth, fake news and alternative facts? Masha Gessen is right in arguing that in the Trump era, language that is used to lie and “validate incomprehensible drivel” not only destroys any vestige of civic literacy, it also “threatens the basic survival of the public sphere.”6

We live in a moment of digital time, a time of relentless immediacy, when experience no longer has the chance to crystalize into mature and informed thought. Communication is now reduced to a form of public relations and a political rhetoric that is overheated and overexaggerated and always over the top. Opinion and sanctioned illiteracy now undermine reason and evidence-based arguments. News becomes spectacle and echoes demagoguery rather than questioning it. Thinking is disdained and is viewed as dangerous. The mainstream media, with few exceptions, has become an adjunct to power rather than a force for holding it accountable. The obsession with the bottom line and ratings has brought much of the media into line with Trump’s disimagination machine wedded to producing endless spectacles and the mind-numbing investment in the cult of celebrity and reality TV.7 What kind of democracy is possible when the institutions that are crucial to a vibrant civil society and the notion of the social are vanishing?

What kind of democracy is possible when the institutions that are crucial to a vibrant civil society and the notion of the social are vanishing?

Institutions that work to free and strengthen the imagination and the capacity to think critically have been under assault in the United States long before the rise of Donald Trump. Over the last 50 years, critical public institutions from public radio to public schools have been defunded, commercialized and privatized transforming them from spheres of critical analysis to dumbed-down workstations for a deregulated and commodified culture.

Lacking public funds, many institutions of higher education have been left to mimic the private sector, transforming knowledge into a commodity, eliminating those courses and departments that do not align themselves with a robust bottom line. In addition, faculty are increasingly treated like Walmart workers with labor relations increasingly designed “to reduce labor costs and to increase labor servility.”8 Under this market-driven governance, students are often relegated to the status of customers, saddled with high tuition rates and a future predicated on ongoing political uncertainty, economic instability and ecological peril.

This dystopian view feeds an obsession with a narrow notion of job readiness and a cost-accounting rationality. This bespeaks to the rise of what theorists such as the late Stuart Hall called an audit or corporate culture, which serves to demoralize and depoliticize both faculty and students, often relieving them of any larger values other than those that reinforce their own self-interest and retreat from any sense of moral and social responsibility.

As higher education increasingly subordinates itself to market-driven values, there is a greater emphasis on research that benefits the corporate world, the military and rich conservative ideologues such as the Koch brothers, who have pumped over $200 million into higher education activities since the 1980s to shape faculty hires, promote academic research centers, and shape courses that reinforce a conservative market-driven ideological and value system.9 One consequence is what David V. Johnson calls the return of universities to “the patron-client model of the Renaissance” which undermines “the very foundation of higher education in the United States.”10

Under such circumstances, commercial values replace public values, unbridled self-interest becomes more important than the common good and sensation seeking and a culture of immediacy becomes more important than compassion and long term investments in others, especially youth. As Paul Gilroy has pointed out, one foundation for a fascist society is that “the motif of withdrawal — civic and interpersonal —” becomes the template for all of social life.11

Democracy and politics itself are impoverished in the absence of those conditions under which students and others use the knowledge they gain both to critique the world in which they live and, when necessary, to intervene in socially responsible ways in order to change it. What might it mean for educators to take seriously the notion that democracy should be a way of thinking about education — one that thrives on connecting equity to excellence, learning to ethics, and agency to the imperatives of social responsibility and the public good?

Higher education needs to reassert its mission as a public good. Educators need to initiate a national conversation in which the classroom is defended as a place of deliberative inquiry and critical thinking, a place that makes a claim on the radical imagination and a sense of civic courage.

Second, educators need to place ethics, civic literacy, social responsibility and compassion at the forefront of learning. Students need to learn how power works across cultural and political institutions so that they can learn how to govern rather than merely be governed. Education should be a process where students emerge as critically engaged and informed citizens contributing not simply to their own self-interest but to the well-being of society as a whole.

Third, higher education needs to be viewed as a right, as it is in many countries such as Germany, France, Norway, Finland and Brazil, rather than a privilege for a limited few, as it is in the United States and the United Kingdom. Rather than burden young people with almost insurmountable debt, it should call people to think, question, doubt and be willing to engage in dialogue that is both unsettling to common sense and supportive of a culture of questioning.

In addition, it should shift not only the way people think but also encourage them to help shape for the better the world in which they find themselves. Teaching should not be confused with therapy or reduced to zones of emotional safety. The classroom should be a space that disturbs, a space of difficulty — a space that challenges complacent thinking. Such pedagogical practices should enable students to interrogate commonsense understandings of the world, take risks in their thinking, however troubling, and be willing to take a stand for free inquiry in the pursuit of truth, multiple ways of knowing, mutual respect and civic values in the pursuit of social justice.

Students need to learn how to think dangerously, or as Baldwin argued, go for broke, in order to push at the frontiers of knowledge while recognizing that the search for justice is never finished and that no society is ever just enough. These are not merely methodical considerations but also moral and political practices because they presuppose the creation of students who can imagine a future in which justice, equality, freedom, and democracy matter and are attainable.

Fourth, in a world driven by data, metrics and an overabundance of information, educators need to enable students to express themselves in multiple literacies extending from print and visual culture to digital culture. They need to become border crossers who can think dialectically, and learn not only how to consume culture but also produce it. At stake here is the ability to perform a crucial act of thinking, that is, the ability to translate private issues into larger systemic concerns.

Fifth, there is a plague haunting higher education, especially in the United States, which has become the model for its unjust treatment of faculty. Seventy percent of all part- and full-time instructional positions are filled with contingent or nontenure-track faculty. Many of these faculty barely make enough money to afford basic necessities, have no or little health insurance and are reluctant to speak out for fear of losing their jobs. Many adjuncts are part of what are called the working poor. This is an abomination and one consequence of the increasing corporatization of higher education. These faculty positions must be transferred into full-time positions with a path toward tenure and full benefits and security.

Sixth, while critical analysis is necessary to reveal the workings and effects of oppressive and unequal relations of power, critique without hope is a prescription for cynicism, despair and civic fatigue. Students also need to stretch their imagination to be able to think beyond the limits of their own experience, and the disparaging notion that the future is nothing more than a mirror image of the present. In this instance, I am not referring to a romanticized and empty notion of hope. Hope means living without illusions and being fully aware of the practical difficulties and risks involved in meaningful struggles for real change, while at the same time being radically optimistic. The political challenge of hope is to recognize that history is open and that the ethical job of education, as the poet Robert Hass has argued, is “to refresh the idea of justice going dead in us all the time.”12

The late world-renowned sociologist Zygmunt Bauman insisted that the bleakness and dystopian politics of our times necessitates the ability to dream otherwise, to imagine a society “which thinks it is not just enough, which questions the sufficiency of any achieved level of justice and considers justice always to be a step or more ahead. Above all, it is a society which reacts angrily to any case of injustice and promptly sets about correcting it.”13 It is precisely such a collective spirit informing a resurgent politics that is being rewritten by many young people today in the discourses of critique and hope, emancipation and transformation. The inimitable James Baldwin captures the depth which both burdens hope and inspires it. In The Fire Next Time, he writes: “The impossible is the least that one can demand. …Generations do not cease to be born, and we are responsible to them…. the moment we break faith with one another, the sea engulfs us and the light goes out.”14 It is one of tasks of educators and higher education to keep the lights burning with a feverish intensity.


 

1. Cited in Marybeth Gasman, “Martin Luther King Jr. and Silence,” The Chronicle of Higher Education [Jan. 16, 2011].

2. Rev. Martin Luther King, “Beyond Vietnam: A Time to Break Silence,” (April 4, 1967) American Rhetoric

3. James Baldwin, “A Talk to Teachers,” in The Price of the Ticket, Collected Non-Fiction 1948-85, (New York: Saint Martins, 1985), 325.

4. I take this up in great detail in Henry A. Giroux, The Public in Peril: Trump and the Menace of American Authoritarianism (New York: Routledge, 2018).

5. Michiko Kakutani, “Texts Without ContextThe New York Times, (March 21, 2010), p. AR1

6. Masha Gessen, “The Autocrat’s Language,” The New York Review of Books, [May 13, 2017].

7. Brad Evans and Henry A. Giroux, Disposable Futures: The Seduction of Violence in the Age of the Spectacle (San Francisco: City Lights, 2016).

8. Noam Chomsky, “The Death of American Universities,” Reader Supported News (March 30, 2015).

9. The definitive source on this issue is Jane Mayer, Dark Money: The Hidden History of the Billionaires Behind the Rise of the Radical Right (New York: Anchor, 2017).

10. David V. Johnson, “Academe on the Auction Block,” The Baffler [Issue No. 36 2017]

11. Paul Gilroy, Against Race: Imagining Political Culture beyond the Color Line, (Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2000), p. 216.

12. Cited in Sarah Pollock, “Robert Hass,” Mother Jones (March/April 1997).

13. Zygmunt Bauman and Keith Tester, Conversations with Zygmunt Bauman (London: Polity Press, 2001), p. 19.

14. James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time (New York: Vintage, 1992) p. 104.

Source:

Rethinking Higher Education in a Time of Tyranny

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Donald Trump’s passion for cruelty

Dr. Henry Giroux

Donald Trump seems addicted to violence.

It shapes his language, politics and policies.

He revels in a public discourse that threatens, humiliates and bullies.

He has used language as a weapon to humiliate women, a reporter with a disability, Pope Francis and any political opponent who criticizes him. He has publicly humiliated members of his own cabinet and party, including Attorney General Jeff Sessions and a terminally ill John McCain, not to mention the insults and lies he perpetrated against former FBI Director James Comey after firing him.

Trump has humiliated world leaders with insulting and belittling language. He not only insulted North Korean leader Kim Jong-un with the war-like moniker “Rocket Man,” he appeared before the United Nations and blithely threatened to address the nuclear standoff with North Korea by wiping out its 25 million inhabitants.

He has attacked the mayor of San Juan, Puerto Rico for pleading for help in the aftermath of a hurricane that has devastated the island and left many Puerto Ricans without homes or drinking water.

He has emboldened and tacitly supported the violent actions of white supremacists, and during the presidential campaign encouraged right-wing thugs to attack dissenters — especially people of colour. He stated that he would pay the legal costs of a supporter who attacked a black protester.

During his presidential campaign, he endorsed state torture and pandered to the spectacle of violence that his adoring crowds treated like theatre as they shouted and screamed for more.

Violence for Trump became performative, used to draw attention to himself as the ultimate tough guy. He acted as a mafia figure willing to engage in violence as an act of vengeance and retribution aimed at those who refused to buy into his retrograde nationalism, regressive militarism and nihilistic sadism.

‘Lock her up’

The endless call at his rallies to “lock her up” was more than an attack on Hillary Clinton; he endorsed the manufacture of a police state where the call to law and order become the foundation for Trump’s descent into authoritarianism.

Donald Trump supporters in Virginia in November 2016. (AP Photo/ Evan Vucci)

On a policy level, he has instituted directives to remilitarize the police by providing them with all manner of Army surplus weapons — especially those local police forces dealing with issues of racism and poverty. He actually endorsed and condoned police brutality while addressing a crowd of police officers in Long Island, New York, this summer.

These are just a few examples of the many ways in which Trump repeatedly gives licence to his base and others to commit acts of violence.

What’s more, he also appears to relish representations of violence, suggesting on one occasion that it’s a good way to deal with the “fake news” media. He tweeted an edited video showing him body-slamming and punching a man with the CNN logo superimposed on his head during a wrestling match.

And recently, he retweeted an edited video from an anti-Semite’s account that showed Trump driving a golf ball into the back of Hillary Clinton’s head.

Trump’s domestic policies instill fear

The violence has found its way into Trump’s domestic policies, which bear the weight of a form of domestic terrorism — policies that instill in specific populations fear through intimidation and coercion.

Trump’s call to deport 800,000 individuals brought to the United States as illegal immigrants through no intention of their own — and who know no other country than the U.S. — reflects more than a savage act of a white nationalism. This cruel and inhumane policy also suggests the underlying state violence inherent in embracing the politics of disappearance and disposability.

In this Sept. 6 photo, Karen Caudillo, 21, of Florida and Jairo Reyes, 25, of Rogers, Ark., both brought to the U.S. as children, attend a Capitol Hill news conference in Washington. DACA has shielded them from deportation. (AP Photo/Jose Luis Magana, File)

There’s also Trump’s pardon of the vile Joe Arpaio, the disgraced former Arizona sheriff and notorious racist who was renowned by white supremacists and bigots for his hatred of undocumented immigrants and his abuse and mistreatment of prisoners.

This growing culture of cruelty offers support for a society of violence in the United States. Before Trump’s election, that society resided on the margins of power. Now it’s at the centre.

Trump’s disregard for human life is evident in a range of policies. They include withdrawing from the Paris Agreement on climate change, slashing jobs at the Environmental Protection Agency, gutting teen pregnancy prevention programs and ending funds to fight white supremacy and other hate groups.

Budget punishes poor children

At the same time, Trump has called for a US$52 billion increase in the military budget while arguing for months in favour of doing away with Obamacare and leaving tens of millions of Americans without health coverage.

Many young, old and vulnerable populations will pay with their lives for Trump’s embrace of this form of domestic terrorism.

He’s added a new dimension of cruelty to the policies that affect children, especially the poor. His proposed 2018 budget features draconian cuts in programs that benefit poor children.

Trump supports cutting food stamp programs (SNAP) to the tune of US$193 billion; slashing US$610 billion over 10 years from Medicaid, which aids 37 million children; chopping US$5.8 billion from the budget of the Children’s Health Insurance Program which serves nine million kids; defunding public schools by US$9.2 billion; and eliminating a number of community-assisted programs for the poor and young people.

These cruel cuts merge with the ruthlessness of a punishing state that under Trump and Attorney General Sessions is poised to implement a law-and-order campaign that criminalizes the behaviour of the poor, especially Blacks.

It gets worse. At the same time, Trump also supports policies that pollute the planet and increase health risks to the most vulnerable and powerless.

Violence an American hallmark

Violence, sadly, runs through the United States like an electric current. And it’s become the primary tool both for entertaining people and addressing social problems. It also works to destroy the civic institutions that make a democracy possible.

Needless to say, Trump is not the sole reason for this more visible expression of extreme violence on the domestic and foreign fronts.

On the contrary. He’s the endpoint of a series of anti-democratic practices, policies and values that have been gaining ground since the emergence of the political and economic counterrevolution that gained full force with the election of Ronald Reagan in 1980, along with the rule of financial capital and the embrace of a culture of precarity.

Trump is the unbridled legitimator-in-chief of gun culture, police brutality, a war machine, violent hypermasculinity and a political and social order that expands the boundaries of social abandonment and the politics of disposability — especially for those marginalized by race and class.

He’s emboldened the idea that violence is the only viable political response to social problems, and in doing so normalizes violence.

Violence that once seemed unthinkable has become central to Trump’s understanding of how American society now defines itself.

Language in the service of violence has a long history in the United States, and in this current historical moment, we now have the violence of organized forgetting.

Violence as a source of pleasure

As memory recedes, violence as a toxin morphs into entertainment, policy and world views.

What’s different about Trump is that he revels in the use of violence and war-mongering brutality to inflict humiliation and pain on people. He pulls the curtains away from a systemic culture of cruelty and a racially inflected mass- incarceration state. He publicly celebrates his own sadistic investment in violence as a source of pleasure.

At the moment, it may seem impossible to offer any resistance to this emerging authoritarianism without talking about violence, how it works, who benefits from it, whom it affects and why it’s become so normalized.

But this doesn’t have to be the case once we understand that the scourge of American violence is as much an educational issue as it is a political concern.

The challenge is to address how to educate people about violence through rigorous and accessible historical, social, relational analyses and narratives that provide a comprehensive understanding of how the different registers of violence are connected to new forms of American authoritarianism.

This means making power and its connection to violence visible through the exposure of larger structural and systemic economic forces.

‘Dead zones’ of imagination

It means illustrating with great care and detail how violence is reproduced and legitimized through mass illiteracy and the dead zones of the imagination.

It means moving away from analyzing violence as an abstraction by showing how it actually manifests itself in everyday life to inflict massive human suffering and despair.

The American public needs a new understanding of how civic institutions collapse under the force of state violence, how language coarsens in the service of carnage, how a culture hardens in a market society so as to foster contempt for compassion while exalting a culture of cruelty.

How does neoliberal capitalism work to spread the celebration of violence through its commanding cultural apparatuses and social media?

How does war culture come to dominate civic life and become the most honoured ideal in American society?

Unless Americans can begin to address these issues as part of a broader discourse committed to resisting the growing authoritarianism in the United States, the plague of mass violence will continue — and the once-shining promise of American democracy will become nothing more than a relic of history.

Source:

https://theconversation.com/donald-trumps-passion-for-cruelty-84819

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Donald Trump’s Addiction to Violence

BY HENRY GIROUX

The president has normalized violence by emboldening the idea that it is the only viable political response to social problems.

Donald Trump is addicted to violence. It is the principal force that shapes his language, politics and policies. He revels in a public discourse that threatens, humiliates, bullies and inflicts violence. He has used language as a weapon to humiliate women, a reporter with a disability, Pope Francis and any political opponent who criticizes him. He has publicly humiliated and waged symbolic violence on members of his own Cabinet, such as Attorney General Jeff Sessions, not to mention the insults and lies he perpetrated against former FBI Director James Comey after firing him.1 He has humiliated world leaders with a discourse that in its infantilism uses language to insult and belittle. In the case of North Korean leader Kim Jong-un, he has not only insulted him with the war-like moniker “Rocket Man,” he has appeared before the United Nations and blithely threatened to address the nuclear standoff with North Korea by wiping out its 25 million inhabitants.2 He has emboldened and indirectly supported the violent actions of white supremacists, and during the presidential campaign encouraged right-wing thugs to attack dissenters — especially people of color.

During his presidential campaign, he endorsed state torture and pandered to the spectacle of violence that his adoring crowds treated like theater as they shouted and screamed for more. As Sasha Abramsky observes in The Nation, Trump’s embrace of torture made clear that he not only was willing to normalize the unspeakable, but was more than willing to turn the American government into a criminal organization. She writes:

Torture …in the campaign, [became] Trump’s leitmotif — and he did far more than applaud the waterboarding sanctioned by George W. Bush’s administration, as if that weren’t bad enough. Time and again, Trump urged his crowds of supporters on by dangling before them the prospect of violence for violence’s sake. Time and again, he flaunted his contempt for international norms by embracing torture — the word, for so long taboo, as much as the deed — as an official policy of state.3

Under such circumstances, violence for Trump became performative, used to draw attention to himself as the ultimate tough guy while signaling his embrace of a criminogenic ethic that allowed him to act as a mafia figure willing to engage in violence as an act of vengeance and retribution aimed at those who refused to buy into his retrograde nationalism, regressive militarism and nihilistic sadism. The endless call to “lock her up” signaled more than an attack on Hillary Clinton; he endorsed the making of a police state where the call to law and order become the foundation for Trump’s descent into authoritarianism.

On a policy level, he has instituted directives to remilitarize the police by providing them with all manner of Army surplus weapons — especially those local police forces dealing with issues of racism and poverty. While addressing a crowd of police officers in Long Island, New York, he endorsed and condoned police brutality.4 During his presidential campaign he stated that he would pay the legal costs of a thug who attacked a black protester. These are typical examples of many ways in which Trump repeatedly gives license to his base and others to commit acts of violence. He also appears to revel in producing representations of violence suggesting it is the medium by which to deal with news media, or the “fake news” crowd, that hold him accountable for his actions and policies. For instance, he tweeted an edited video showing him, body-slamming and punching a man with the CNN logo superimposed on his head during a wrestling match.5

This adulation of violence is mimicked in many of Trump’s domestic policies, which bear the weight of a form of domestic terrorism — a term I’m using in this case to describe an act of violence intended not only to harm or kill but also to instill fear through intimidation and coercion in specific populations. For instance, Trump’s call to deport 800,000 individuals brought to the United States as illegal immigrants through no intention of their own and who know no other country than the United States reflects more than a savage act of a white nationalism. It also suggests the underlying state violence inherent in embracing a politics of disappearance and disposability. Couple this cruel and inhumane policy with Trump’s pardon of the vile Joe Arpaio, the disgraced former Arizona sheriff and notorious racist who was renowned by white supremacists and bigots for his hatred of undocumented immigrants and his abuse and mistreatment of prisoners in his tent city jail. This marriage of a culture of cruelty and Trump’s backing of a sadistic racist offers support for a society of violence in the United States that before Trump’s election resided on the margins of power rather than as it does now, at the center of power.

This adulation of violence is mimicked in many of Trump’s domestic policies, which bear the weight of a form of domestic terrorism.

What Wendy Brown calls Trump’s “apocalyptic populism” has reinforced a savage form of neoliberalism that, as Pope Francis has pointed out, produces an economy that kills.6 Trump’s militarized disregard for human life is evident in a range of policies that extend from withdrawing from the Paris Agreement on climate change and slashing jobs at the Environmental Protection Agency to gutting teen pregnancy prevention programs and ending funds to fight white supremacy and other hate-producing, right-wing groups. At the same time, Trump has called for a $52 billion increase in the military budget while arguing for a revised health care bill being sponsored by Sens. Bill Cassidy (R-LA) and Lindsey Graham (R-SC) that would cut $4 trillion in health care over 20 years while allowing 32 million to lose health coverage by 2027. These figures speak clearly to Trump’s passion for violence, but his embrace of this form of domestic terrorism cannot be captured fully in critical commentaries about his ruthless domestic and foreign policies. The real measure of such policies must begin as Brad Evans argues in “the raw realities of suffering” and the terrible price many young, old and vulnerable populations pay with their lives.7

For instance, Trump has added a new dimension of cruelty to the policies that affect children, especially the poor. He has supported cutting food stamp programs (SNAP) to the tune of $193 billion; slashing $610 billion over 10 years from Medicaid, which aids 37 million children; slashing $5.8 billion from the budget of the Children’s Health Insurance Program which serves 9 million kids; defunding public schools by $9.2 billion; and eliminating a number of community assisted programs for the poor and young people. Trump’s proposed 2018 budget is an act of unbridled cruelty given its draconian cuts in programs that benefit poor children. As Marian Wright Edelman, the president of the Children’s Defense Fund observes:

Our nation’s budget should reflect our nation’s professed values, but President Trump’s 2018 Federal Budget, “A New Foundation for America’s Greatness,” radically does the opposite. This immoral budget declares war on America’s children, our most vulnerable group, and the foundation of our nation’s current and future economic, military and leadership security. It cruelly dismantles and shreds America’s safety net laboriously woven over the past half century to help and give hope to the 14.5 million children struggling today in a sea of poverty, hunger, sickness, miseducation, homelessness and disabilities. It slashes trillions of dollars from health care, nutrition and other critical programs that give poor babies and children a decent foundation in life to assure trillions of dollars in tax cuts for millionaires and billionaires and powerful corporations who do not deserve massive doses of government support. The cruel Trump budget invests more in our military — already the most costly in the world — but denies vulnerable children and youths the income, health care, food, housing and education supports they need to become strong future soldiers to defend our country.

These draconian and cruel cuts merge with the ruthlessness of a punishing state that under Trump and Attorney General Sessions is poised to implement a vicious law and order campaign that criminalizes the behavior of the poor. It gets worse. At the same time, Trump supports policies that pollute the planet and increase health risks to the most vulnerable and powerless.

Violence runs through the United States like an electric current and has become the primary tool both for entertaining people and addressing social problems while also working to destroy the civic institutions and other institutions that make a democracy possible. Needless to say, Trump is not the sole reason for this more visible expression of extreme violence on the domestic and foreign fronts. On the contrary, he is the endpoint of a series of anti-democratic practices, policies and values that have been gaining ground since the emergence of the political and economic counterrevolution that gained full force with the election of Ronald Reagan in 1980, along with the rule of financial capital and the embrace of a culture of precarity. At one level, Trump is the unbridled legitimator-in-chief of a gun culture, police brutality, a war machine, a culture of violent hypermasculinity and a political and social order that expands the boundaries of social abandonment and the politics of disposability — especially for those marginalized by race and class. Trump has emboldened the idea that violence is the only viable political response to social problems and in doing so normalizes violence in its multiple expressions.

Violence that once seemed unthinkable has become central to how Trump’s understanding of American society now defines itself.

Violence that once seemed unthinkable has become central to how Trump’s understanding of American society now defines itself. Violence in its multiple hard and soft forms has become the very condition of our existence, both as a powerful structural force and an ideology wedded to the reproduction of human suffering. Language in the service of violence has a long history in the United States, and in the current historical moment has succumbed to what I have called the violence of organized forgetting. As memory recedes, violence as a toxin morphs into entertainment, policy and world views that embrace it less as a regime and practice of terror than as a template to guide all of social life.

What is different about Trump is that he relishes in the use of violence and warmongering brutality to inflict humiliation and pain on people; he pulls the curtains away from a systemic culture of cruelty, a racially inflected mass incarceration state, and in doing so refuses to hide his own sadistic investment in violence as a source of pleasure. Jeffrey St. Clair has argued that Trump is the great reveller who pulls back “the curtains on the cesspool of American politics for the inspection of all but the most timid” while going further by insisting that Trump is the bully-in-chief, a sadistic troll who has pushed the country — without any sense of ethical and social responsibility — deep into the abyss of authoritarianism and a culture of violence and cruelty that is as unchecked as it is poisonous and dangerous to human life and democracy itself.8

At the current moment, it may seem impossible to offer any resistance to this authoritarian order without talking about violence, how it works, who benefits from it, whom it affects and why it has become so normalized. This does not have to be the case once it is recognized that the scourge of American violence is as much an educational issue as it is a political concern. The challenge here, in part, for progressives is to address how people might be educated about violence through rigorous and accessible historical, social, relational analysis and narratives that provide a comprehensive understanding of how the different registers of violence are connected to new modes of American authoritarianism. This means making power and its connection to violence visible through the exposure of larger structural and systemic economic forces. It means illustrating with great care and detail how violence is reproduced and legitimated through the manufacture of mass illiteracy and the reproduction of dead zones of the imagination. It means moving away from analyzing violence as an abstraction by showing how it works concretely at the level of everyday life to inflict massive human suffering and despair.

The American public needs a new understanding of how civic institutions collapse under the force of state violence, how language coarsens in the service of carnage, how a culture hardens in a market society so as to foster contempt for compassion while exalting a culture of cruelty. How does neoliberal capitalism work to spread the celebration of violence through its commanding cultural apparatuses and social media? How does war culture come to dominate civic life and become the most honored ideal in American society? Unless Americans can begin to address these issues as part of a broader discourse committed to resisting the existent authoritarianism in America, the plague of mass violence will continue and the promise of a radical democracy will become nothing more than a relic of history.

 


 

1. Henry A. Giroux, “Trump vs. Comey: The Politics of Lawlessness, Lying and Fake News,” Ragazine (June 10, 2017). 

[2] Harriet Alexander, “Donald Trump says US may have to ‘totally destroy’ North Korea,” The Telegraph (Sept. 19, 2017).

[3] Sasha Abramsky, “How Trump Has Normalized the Unspeakable,” The Nation (Sept. 20, 2017).

[4] Amy Goodman and Denis Moynihan, “Trump’s Call for Police Brutality is No Joke,” DemocracyNow (Aug. 3, 2017). 

[5] Michael M. Grynbaum, “Trump Tweets a Video of Him Wrestling ‘CNN’ to the Ground,” The New York Times (July 2, 2017). 

[6] Wendy Brown, “Apocalyptic Populism,” Eurozine, (Sept. 5, 2017).

[7]7 Brad Evans, “Remembering the 43,” Los Angeles Review Blog (Sept. 9, 2017). 

[8] Jeffrey St. Clair, “To See or to Nazi: Trump’s Moral Blindspot is America’s.” CounterPunch, (Aug. 18, 2017). 

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Donald Trump’s Addiction to Violence

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Public Pedagogy and Manufactured Identities in the Age of the Selfie Culture

By: Henry Giroux

Education in society occurs across both formal and informal spheres of communication exchange. It extends from schools to diverse cultural apparatuses such as the mainstream media, alternative screen cultures, the Internet, and other spaces actively involved in the construction of knowledge, values, modes of identification, and agency itself. The modern era is shaped by a public pedagogy rooted in neoliberal capitalism that embraces consumer culture as the primary mechanism through which to express personal agency and identity. Produced and circulated through a depoliticizing machinery of fear and consumption, the cultural focus on the pursuit of individual desires rather than public responsibilities has led to a loss of public memory, democratic dissent, and political identity. As the public sphere collapses into the realm of the private, the bonds of mutual dependence have been shredded along with the public spheres that make such bonds possible. Freedom is reduced to a private matter divorced from the obligations of social life and politics only lives in the immediate. The personal has become the only sphere of politics that remains.

The rise of the selfie as a mode of public discourse and self-display demands critical scrutiny in terms of how it is symptomatic of the widespread shift toward market-driven values and a surveillance culture, increasingly facilitated by ubiquitous, commercial forms of digital technology and social media. Far from harmless, the unexamined “selfie” can be viewed as an example of how predatory technology-based capitalism socializes people in a way that encourages not only narcissism and anti-social indifference, but active participation in a larger authoritarian culture defined by a rejection of social bonds and cruelty toward others. As with other forms of cultural and self-expression, the selfie—when placed in alternative, collective frameworks—can also become a tool for engaging in struggles over meaning. Possibilities for social change that effectively challenges growing inequality, atomization, and injustice under neoliberalism can only emerge from the creation of new, broad-ranging sites of pedagogy capable of building new political communities and drawing attention to anti-democratic structures throughout the broader society.

Keywords: neoliberalism, pedagogy, public sphere, social media, individualism, identity, agency, community, surveillance, mass culture, selfie.

Neoliberalism and the Crisis of Agency

The most important forms of domination are not only economic but also intellectual and pedagogical, and lie on the side of belief and persuasion.

Pierre Bourdieu and Gunter Grass (2002)

Under the reign of neoliberalism, a particularly savage form of capitalism, the blight of rampant consumerism, unregulated finance capital, and weakened communal bonds increasingly promote what may be called a crisis of identity, memory, and agency. In part, such a crisis is directly related to neoliberalism’s production of an individualism that embodies a pathological disdain for community and, in doing so, furthers the creation of atomized, isolated, and utterly privatized individuals who have lost sight of the fact that, as Hannah Arendt (2013) once expressed, “humanity is never acquired in solitude” (p. 37). Nothing appears to escape the reach of predatory capitalism as even space, time, and language have been subject to the forces of privatization and commodification. Commodified and privatized, public spaces are replaced by malls and entertainment spheres that infantilize almost everything they touch. As one’s humanity is more and more defined by the ability to consume, exchange values are given priority over public values, just as communal values are replaced by atomizing and survival-of-the fittest market values. Hence, it is not surprising that, at this historical moment, individual and collective agency is more and more overwhelmed by a tsunami of information, the ubiquity of market values, the ravages of inequality in income, power, and wealth, and the absence of space and time, which allow for contemplation, dialogue, and shared responsibilities. Within this brutal logic of neoliberalism, the social becomes regressive, emptied of democratic values, and reduced to the dustbin of history by a politics that in the famous words of the late Margaret Thatcher declares with no apologies: “There is no such thing as society, there are only individuals and families.”

The crisis of agency is further reproduced through an ongoing assault on public spaces, where identities that once could be constructed, both in shared spaces and in dialogue with others, are under siege and withering in absence of a vibrant set of democratic public spheres. As more and more public spheres and modes of public pedagogy are defined by the logic of the market, individuals can only recognize themselves within settings—whether the school or the mass media—whose ultimate fidelity is to expanding market values and profit margins. In this instance, the public collapses into the personal, and the symbolic and affective dimensions of social existence begin to erode. One consequence is that political life disintegrates into private obsessions, and the triumph of the personal over the political becomes evident in the rise of the confessional society. Even worse, the only condition of agency is the ongoing desire to survive in a period of social breakdown, uncertainty, massive unemployment, and the collapse of the social contract. Under such circumstances, the only control that many people, especially youth, have over their identities is through the production of self-representations organized through the manufactured images they post on social media.

With the destruction of public spaces and communal bonds, coupled with the ongoing ideology of privatization, the production of identity appears to be wedded almost entirely to the invention of an isolated self. One consequence is that agency is now deeply embedded in the process of self-fashioning and an endless performance of freedom, which becomes an exercise in self-development rather than social responsibility. This primarily takes place through the boundless production of images that stand in for some control over depictions of the self. Moreover, sharing such images becomes the vehicle by which to exit from any notion of privacy and to render representations of the self as the only viable way to enable a sense of agency, however limited.

Under the auspices of casino capitalism, there is an ongoing attempt by the apostles of neoliberalism to remove politics from the ideals of the common good, social contract, and democracy. Shared responsibilities are now replaced by shared fears, reinforced by a market driven culture that celebrates privatization, deregulation, consumerism, choice, the spectacle of celebrity, and a revival of the ethics of Social Darwinism. Abstracted from the ideal of public commitment, neoliberalism, or what might be called market fundamentalism, represents a political, economic, and ideological practice that loosens the connection between substantive democracy, critical agency, and progressive education. It does so, however, not simply by disconnecting power from politics. As Samir Amin (2001) suggests, it does so by “gaining control of the expansion of markets, the looting of the earth’s natural resources, [or] the super exploitation of the labor reserves” (p. 6). One of the most important new weapons of global capitalism is that it constitutes a form of public pedagogy. While a number of theorists extending from Antonion Gramsci to C. Wright Mills have talked about culture as an educational force, it was Raymond Williams (1967) who first articulated the notion of culture as a form of permanent education. That is, the educational force of dominant culture, in all of its diversity, represents one of the primary conditions for spreading values, ideologies, and social relations. Culture today increasingly defines global citizenship as a private affair, a solitary act of consumption, and a war against all competitive ethos rather than as a practice of social and political engagement performed by critical agents acting collectively to shape social, political, and economic forces.

Neoliberal Public Pedagogy

Economic structures alone cannot account for the success of neoliberalism or any other mode of oppression. Shaping public consciousness is crucial to enforcing repressive values and social relations. In large part, this is done by keeping the American public absorbed in privatized orbits of consumption, commodification, and display, verifying the conviction that there is no democracy without an informed public. In this instance, pedagogy becomes central to the very meaning of politics, because it is crucial in understanding how culture deploys power and produces those desires, values, and modes of identity that support and mimic the demands of a market-fundamentalism in which exchange value becomes the only value that matters.

In the institutions of both public and higher education and the neoliberal mainstream cultural apparatuses of screen and print culture, the American polity is continuously commercially carpet-bombed with a form of public pedagogy the promotes narcissism, obsessive self-interest, and a libidinal economy in which consuming is defined as the only obligation of citizenship. As Joseph E. Stiglitz (2013) explains, neoliberal common sense insists that it is better “to trust in the in the pursuit of self-interest than in the good intentions of those who pursue the general interest”; looking out for oneself in the age of selfie culture is transformed from a principle of embedded self-development and growth to the belief that “selfishness [is] the ultimate form of selflessness.” Looking out for oneself in the best sense morphs into looking at oneself.

Under neoliberalism, as Jonathan Crary (2013) observes, time is now defined by “the non-stop operation of global exchange and circulation” (p. 5), including the endless perpetuation of an impoverished celebrity and consumer culture that both depoliticizes people and narrows their potential for critical thought, agency, and social relations to an investment in shopping, and other market-related activities. It is also subject to an algorithm of speed designed to intensify the labor of working people to the point of sheer exhaustion. Time is a luxury only for the rich and well off. For those engaged in the ongoing battle to survive, what the Occupy Movement called the 99%, it is largely a deprivation. Yet, it is a deprivation that has not provoked the public outrage it deserves. One reason might be that ethical paralysis and disposability are the new signposts of a society in which historical memory and social agency are diminished in part because care for the other is not only under assault by conservatives but is also derided as figments of liberal past.

As Frank B. Wilderson III (2012) has argued, as public trust and values are derided the discourses necessary to draw attention to the ethical grammars of suffering, state violence, and disposability begin to disappear, leaving only a “discourse of embodied incapacity” (p. 30). Unsurprisingly, as public values, the common good, and civic life are devalued, what emerges in its place is a culture of cruelty dominated by hyper-individualism, a survival-of-the fittest ethos, brutal forms of competition, and the non-stop production of celebrity culture, the spectacle of violence, and the reduction of agency to isolated and often anxiety-ridden and traumatized notions of the self. What emerges from this culture of narcissism and obsessive self-interest is both a callous disregard for human life and a notion in which consumption largely focuses on the consuming self at the expense of caring for others.

Dispossession, infantilization, and depoliticization are central to the discourse of neoliberalism in which language is central to moulding identities, desires, values, and social relationships. Within this fog of market-induced paralysis, language is subject to the laws of the capitalism, reduced to a commodity, and subject to the “tyranny of the moment, . . . emaciated, impoverished, vulgarized, and squeezed out of the meanings it was resumed to carry” (Bauman & Donskis, 2013, p. 46). As Doreen Massey (2013) observes, within the discourse of neoliberalism, the public are urged to become highly competitive consumers and customers, while taught that the only interests that matter are individual interests, almost always measured by monetary considerations. Under such circumstances, social and communal bonds are shredded, important modes of solidarity attacked, and a war is waged against any institution that embraces the values, practices, and social relations endemic to a democracy. Neoliberal public pedagogy, in this instance, functions as what Hannah Arendt (1968) calls a form of “totalitarian education,” one whose aim “has never been to instill convictions but to destroy the capacity to form any” (p. 468). One outcome has been a heightening of the discourse of narcissism and the retreat from public life and any viable sense of worldliness.

The retreat into private silos has resulted in the inability of individuals to connect their personal suffering with larger public issues. Thus detached from any concept of the common good or viable vestige of the public realm, they are left to face alone a world of increasing precariousness and uncertainty, in which it becomes difficult to imagine anything other than how to survive. In addition, there is often little room for thinking critically and acting collectively in ways that are imaginative and courageous. Surely, as Bauman and Donskis (2013) argue, the celebration and widespread prevalence of ignorance in American culture does more than merely testify “to human backwardness or stupidity”; it also “indicates human weakness and the fear that it is unbearably difficult to live beset by continuous doubts” (p. 7). Yet, what is often missed in analysis of political and civic illiteracy as the new normal is the degree to which these new forms of illiteracy not only result in an unconscious flight from politics, but also produce a moral coma that supports modern systems of terror and authoritarianism. Civic illiteracy is about more than the glorification and manufacture of ignorance on an individual scale: it is producing a nation-wide crisis of agency, memory, and thinking itself.

The Crisis of Civic Literacy

Clearly, the attack on reason, evidence, science, and critical thought has reached perilous proportions in the United States, and any discussion of the rise of a narcissistic selfie culture must include this growing threat to democracy. A number of political, economic, social, and technological forces now work to distort reality and keep people passive, unthinking, and unable to act in a critically engaged manner. Politicians, right-wing pundits, and large swaths of the American public embrace positions that support Creationism, capital punishment, torture, and the denial of human-engineered climate change, any one of which not only defies human reason but also stands in stark opposition to evidence-based scientific arguments. Reason now collapses into opinion, as thinking itself appears to be both dangerous and antithetical to understanding ourselves, our relations to others, and the larger state of world affairs. Under such circumstances, literacy disappears not just as the practice of learning skills, but also as the foundation for taking informed action. Divorced from any sense of critical understanding and agency, the meaning of literacy is narrowed to completing basic reading, writing, and numeracy tasks assigned in schools. Literacy education is similarly reduced to strictly methodological considerations and standardized assessment, rooted in test taking and deadening forms of memorization, and becomes far removed from forms of literacy that would impart an ability to raise questions about historical and social contexts.

Literacy, in a critical sense, should always ask what it might mean to use knowledge and theory as a resource to address social problems and events in ways that are meaningful and expand democratic relations. Needless to say, as John Pilger (2014) has pointed out, what is at work in the death of literacy and the promotion of ignorance as a civic virtue is a “confidence trick” in which “the powerful would like us to believe that we live in an eternal present in which reflection is limited to Facebook, and historical narrative is the preserve of Hollywood.” Among the “materialized shocks” of the ever-present spectacles of violence, the expanding states of precariousness, and the production of the atomized, repressed, and disconnected individual, narcissism reigns supreme. As Frankfurt School theorist Leo Lowenthal’s important essay “The Atomization of Man” (1987) states, “personal communication tends to all meaning,” even as moral decency and the “agency of conscience” wither (p. 183).

How else to explain the endless attention-seeking in our self-absorbed age; a culture that accepts cruelty toward others as a necessary survival strategy; a growing “economics of contempt” (St. Claire, 2014), that maligns and blames the poor for their condition rather than acknowledging injustices in the social order; or the paucity of even the most rudimentary knowledge among the American public about history, politics, civil rights, the Constitution, public affairs, politics, and other cultures, countries, and political systems? Political ignorance now exists in the United States on a scale that seems inconceivable: for example, “only 40 percent of adults know that there are 100 Senators in the U.S. Congress” (Werleman, 2014), and a significant number of Americans believe that the Constitution designated English as the country’s official language and Christianity as its official religion.

Zygmunt Bauman and David Lyons (2013) have connected the philosophical implications of experiencing a reality defined by constant measurement to how most people now allow their private expressions and activities to be monitored by the authoritarian security-surveillance state. No one is left unscathed. In the current historical conjuncture, neoliberalism’s theater of cruelty joins forces with new technologies that can easily “colonize the private” even as it holds sacrosanct the notion that any “refusal to participate in the technological innovations and social networks (so indispensable for the exercise of social and political control) . . . becomes sufficient grounds to remove all those who lag behind in the globalization process (or have disavowed its sanctified idea) to the margins of society” (Bauman & Lyons, 2013, p. 7). Inured to data gathering and number crunching, the country’s slide into authoritarianism has become not only permissible, but “participatory” as John Feffer (2014) claims—bolstered by a general ignorance of how a market-driven culture induces all of us to sacrifice our secrets, private lives, and very identities to social media, corporations, and the surveillance state.

Ignorance finds an easy ally in various elements of mass and popular culture, such as the spectacle of reality TV, further encouraging the embrace of a culture in which it is no longer possible to translate private troubles into public concerns. On the contrary, reveling in private issues now becomes the grounds for celebrity status, promoting a new type of confessional in which all that matters is interviewing oneself endlessly and performing private acts as fodder for public consumption. Facebook “likes,” lists of “friends,” and other empty data reduce our lives to numbers that now define who we are. Technocratic rationality rules while thoughtful communication withers, translated into data without feeling, meaning, or vision. Lacking any sense of larger purpose, it is not surprising that individuals become addicted to outrageous entertainment and increasingly listen to and invest their hopes in politicians and hatemongers who endlessly lie, trade in deceit, and engage in zombie-like behavior, destroying everything they touch.

As I have stressed previously, American society is in the grip of a paralyzing infantilism. Everywhere we look, the refusal to think, to engage troubling knowledge, and to welcome robust dialogue and engaged forms of pedagogy are now met by the fog of rigidity, anti-intellectualism, and a collapse of the public into the private. A politics of intense privatization and its embrace of the self as the only viable unit of agency appears to have a strong grip on American society as can be seen in the endless attacks on reason, truth, critical thinking, and informed exchange, or any other relationship that embraces the social and the democratic values that support it. This might be expected in a society that has become increasingly anti-intellectual, given its commitment to commodities, violence, privatization, the death of the social, and the bare bones relations of commerce. But it is more surprising when it is elevated to a national ideal and, like a fashion craze, wrapped in a kind of self-righteous moralism marked by an inability or reluctance to imagine what others are thinking. This type of ideological self-righteousness, fueled by a celebrity culture and elevation of self-interest as the only values that matter, is especially dispiriting when it accommodates rather than challenges the rise of the surveillance state and the demise of the public good along with those modes of solidarity that embrace a collective sense of agency.

Surveillance and the Flight from Privacy

Surveillance has become a growing feature of daily life wielded by both the state and the larger corporate sphere. This merger registers both the transformation of the political state into the corporate state as well as the transformation of a market economy into a criminal economy. One growing attribute of the merging of state and corporate surveillance apparatuses is the increasing view of privacy on the part of the American public as something to escape from rather than preserve as a precious political right. The surveillance and security-corporate state is one that not only listens, watches, and gathers massive amounts of information through data mining necessary for monitoring the American public—now considered as both potential terrorists and a vast consumer market—but also acculturates the public into accepting the intrusion of surveillance technologies and privatized commodified values into all aspects of their lives. Personal information is willingly given over to social media and other corporate based websites such as Instagram, Facebook, MySpace, and other media platforms, and is harvested daily as people move from one targeted website to the next across multiple screens and digital apparatuses.

As Ariel Dorfman (2014) points out, “social media users gladly give up their liberty and privacy, invariably for the most benevolent of platitudes and reasons,” all the while endlessly shopping online and texting. While selfies may not lend themselves directly to giving up important private information online, they do speak to the necessity to make the self into an object of public concern, if not a manifestation of how an infatuation with selfie culture now replaces any notion of the social as the only form of agency available to many people. Under such circumstances, it becomes much easier to put privacy rights at risk, as they are viewed less as something to protect than to escape from in order to put the self on public display.

When the issue of surveillance takes place outside of the illegal practices performed by government intelligence agencies, critics most often point to the growing culture of inspection and monitoring that occurs in a variety of public spheres through ever present digital technologies used to amass information, most evident in the use of video cameras that inhabit every public space from the streets, commercial establishments, and workplaces, to the schools our children attend, as well as in the myriad scanners placed at the entry points of airports, stores, sporting events, and the like. Rarely do critics point to the emergence of the selfie as another index of the public’s need to escape from the domain of what was once considered to be the cherished and protected realm of the private and personal. Privacy rights in the not too distant past were viewed as a crucial safeguard in preventing personal and important information from becoming public. Privacy was also seen as a sphere of protection from the threat of totalitarianism made infamous in George Orwell’s 1984. In the present oversaturated information age, the right to privacy has gone the way of an historical relic and, for too many Americans, privacy is no longer a freedom to be cherished and by necessity to be protected. Of course, there is a notable exception here regarding people of color, especially poor dissenting blacks, for whom privacy has never been an assumed right. The right to privacy was violated in the historical reality of slavery, the state terrorism enacted under deep surveillance programs such as COINTELPRO, the current wave of mass incarcerations, and in the surveillance of the Black Lives Matter movement. What has changed, particularly since 9/11 is that the loss of privacy has been intensified with the rise of the surveillance state, which appears to monitor most of the electronic media and digital culture (Greenwald, 2015). Unfortunately, in some cases the loss of privacy is done voluntarily rather than imposed by the repressive or secret mechanisms of the state.

Rise of Selfie Culture

This is particularly true for many young people who cannot escape from the realm of the private fast enough, though this is not surprising given neoliberalism’s emphasis on branding, a “contextless and eternal now of consumption” (D. L. Clark, personal correspondence, February 10, 2015) and the undermining of any viable social sphere or notion of sociability. The rise of the selfie offers one index of this retreat from privacy rights and thus another form of legitimation for devaluing these once guarded rights altogether. One place to begin is with the increasing presence of the selfie, that is, the ubiquity of self-portraits being endlessly posted on various social media. One BBC News commentary on the selfie reports that:

A search on photo sharing app Instagram retrieves over 23 million photos uploaded with the hashtag #selfie, and a whopping 51 million with the hashtag #me. Rihanna, Justin Bieber, Lady Gaga, and Madonna are all serial uploaders of selfies. Model Kelly Brook took so many she ended up “banning” herself. The Obama children were spotted posing into their mobile phones at their father’s second inauguration. Even astronaut Steve Robinson took a photo of himself during his repair of the Space Shuttle Discovery. Selfie-ism is everywhere. The word “selfie” has been bandied about so much in the past six months it’s currently being monitored for inclusion in the Oxford Dictionary Online.

(BBC News, 2013)

What this new politics of digital self-representation suggests is that the most important transgression against privacy may be happening not only through the unwarranted watching, listening, and collecting of information by the state. What is also taking place through the interface of state and corporate modes of the mass collecting of personal information is the practice of normalizing surveillance by upping the pleasure quotient and enticements for young people and older consumers. These groups are now constantly urged to use the new digital technologies and social networks as a mode of entertainment and communication. Yet, there is, in mainstream culture, an ongoing attempt, not only to transform any vestige of real community into site, not only to harvest information for corporate and government agencies, but also to socialize young people into a regime of security and commodification in which their identities, values, and desires are inextricably tied to a culture of private addictions, self-help, and consuming.

A more general critique of selfies by Anita Biressi and Heather Nunn (2014) points to their affirmation as a mass-produced form of vanity and narcissism in a society in which an unchecked capitalism promotes forms of rampant self-interests that legitimize selfishness and corrode individual and moral character. In this view, a market-driven moral economy of increased individualism and selfishness has supplanted any larger notion of caring, social responsibility, and the public good. For example, one indication that Foucault’s notion of self-care has now moved into the realm of self-obsession can be seen in what Patricia Reaney (2014) has observed as the “growing number of people who are waiting in line to see plastic surgeons to enhance images they post of themselves on smartphones and other social media sites.”

The merging of neoliberalism and selfie culture is on full display in the upsurge in the number of young women between the ages of 20 and 29 who are altering their facial contours through surgical procedures such as nose jobs, eye lid lifts, plumped up lips, puffer-fish cheeks, and laser facials. As Sabrina Maddeaux (2015) points out:

The American Society of Plastic Surgeons last year reported that, in female patients aged 20 to 29, face-shaping cosmetic procedures were on the rise: Requests for hyaluronic acid fillers were up by almost 10 per cent, while Botox and chemical peels saw similar upticks. What’s more, according to dermatologists, young patients aren’t looking for subtle results; they want the “work” to be noticeable. That’s because the puffed and plumped “richface” aesthetic is the new Louis Vuitton handbag in certain circles—an instant, recognizable marker of wealth and status.

(Maddeaux, 2015)

Maddeaux argues that selfie culture “fuels this over-the-top approach to grooming” and (quoting Melissa Gibson, a senior artist for MAC Cosmetics) supports the view that “The selfie has turned an extreme aesthetic that wouldn’t normally be acceptable into something people want on a daily basis” (Maddeaux, 2015). Social media now becomes a site where selfie culture offers women an opportunity to display not only their altered looks, but also their social status and wealth. It appears that selfies are not only an indication of the public’s descent into the narrow orbits of self-obsession and individual posturing but are also good for the economy, especially plastic surgeons, who generally occupy the one percent that constitutes the upper class. The unchecked rise of selfishness is now partly driven by the search for new forms of capital, which recognize no boundaries and appear to have no ethical limitations.

The Plague of Narcissism

The plague of narcissism has a long theoretical and political history extending from Sigmund Freud in 1914 (Sandler, Person, & Fonagy, 1991) to Christopher Lasch (1991). Freud analyzed narcissism in psychoanalytic terms as a form of self-obsession that ran the gamut from being an element of normal behavior to a perversion that pointed to a psychiatric disorder. According to Lasch, narcissism was a form of self-love that functioned less as a medical disorder than as a disturbing cultural trait and political ideology deeply embedded in a capitalist society, one that disdained empathy and care for the other and promoted a cut-throat notion of competition. Lasch argued that the culture of narcissism promoted an obsession with the self under the guise of making selfishness and self-interest a cherished organizing principle of a market-based society. For Lasch, the fictional character megalomaniac and utterly narcissistic Gordon Gekko, the main character in Oliver Stone’s 1987 film Wall Street, has become immortalized with his infamous “greed is good” credo. Both theorists saw these psychological and cultural traits as a threat to one’s mental and political health. What neither acknowledged was that, in the latter part of the 20th century, they would become normalized, common-sense principles that shaped the everyday behavior of a market-driven society in which they were viewed less as an aberration than as a virtue.

In the current historical moment, Gordon Gekko looks tame. The new heroes of contemporary American capitalism are now modeled after a marriage of John Galt, the character from the infamous Ayn Rand novel Atlas Shrugged (1957), who transforms the pursuit of self-interest into a secular religion for the ethically bankrupt and Patrick Bateman, the more disturbing character in Bret Easton Ellis’s 1991 novel and the film American Psycho (2000) who literally kills those considered disposable in a society in which only the strong survive. Today, fiction has become reality, as the characters Gordon Gekko, John Galt, and Patrick Bateman, are personified in the real life figures of the Koch brothers, Lloyd Blankfein, and Jamie Dimon, among others. The old narcissism looks mild compared to the current retreat into the narrow orbits of privatization, commodification, and self-interest. Lynn Stuart Parramore gets it right in her insightful comment:

If Lasch had lived to see the new millennium, marked by increased economic inequality and insecurity, along with trends like self-involved social networking and celebrity culture, he would not have been surprised to hear that the new normal is now pretty much taken for granted as the way things are in America. Many even defend narcissism as the correct response to living with increased competition and pressure to win. According to one study, Americans score higher on narcissism than citizens of any other country. Researchers who study personality find that young Americans today score higher on narcissism and lower on empathy than they did 30 years ago.

(Parramore, 2014)

Under the regime of neoliberalism, narcissism not only becomes the defining characteristic of spoiled celebrities, brutish and cruel CEOs, and fatuous celebrities, it also speaks to a more comprehensive notion of deformed agency, an almost hysterical sense of self-obsession, a criminogenic need for accumulating possessions, and a pathological disdain for democratic social relations. Selfie culture may not be driven entirely by a pathological notion of narcissism, but it does speak to the disintegration of those public spheres, modes of solidarity, and sense of inclusive community that sustain a democratic society. In its most pernicious forms, it speaks to a flight from convictions, social responsibility, and the rational and ethical connections between the self and the larger society. Selfie culture pushes against the constructive cultivation of fantasy, imagination, and memory allowing such capacities to deteriorate in a constant pursuit of commodified pleasure and the need to heighten the visibility and performance of the self. The culture of atomization and loneliness in neoliberal societies is intensified by offering the self as the only source of enjoyment, exchange, and wonder. How else to explain the bizarre behavior of individuals who have their faces altered in order to look good in their selfies? Reaney (2014) quotes one individual after having plastic surgery: “I definitely feel more comfortable right now with my looks, if I need to take a selfie, without a doubt, I would have no problem.”

In a society in which the personal is the only politics there is, there is more at stake in selfie culture than rampant narcissism or the swindle of fulfillment offered to teenagers and others whose self-obsession and insecurity takes an extreme, if not sometimes dangerous, turn. What is being sacrificed is not just the right to privacy, the willingness to give up the self to commercial interests, but the very notion of individual and political freedom. The atomization that, in part, promotes the popularity of selfie culture is nourished not only by neoliberal fervor for unbridled individualism, but also by the weakening of public values and the emptying out of collective and engaged politics.

The Contradictions of Selfie Culture

The political and corporate surveillance state is not just concerned about promoting the flight from privacy rights but also attempts to use that power to canvass every aspect of one’s life in order to suppress dissent, instill fear in the populace, and repress the possibilities of mass resistance against unchecked power (Evans & Giroux, 2015). Selfie culture is also fed by a spiritually empty consumer culture, which Jonathan Crary (2013) characterizes as driven by never-ending “conditions of visibility . . . in which a state of permanent illumination (and performance) is inseparable from the non-stop operation of global exchange and circulation.” Crary’s insistence that entrepreneurial excess now drives a 24/7 culture points rightly to a society driven by a constant state of producing, consuming, and discarding objects as disposable—a central feature of selfie culture. Selfie culture is increasingly shaped within a mode of temporality in which quick turnovers and short attention spans become the measure of how one occupies the ideological and affective spaces of the market with its emphasis on speed, instant gratification, fluidity, and disposability. Under such circumstances, the cheapening of subjectivity and everyday life are further intensified by social identities now fashioned out of brands, commodities, relationships, and images that are used up and discarded as quickly as possible. Under such circumstances, pleasure is held hostage to the addiction of consuming with its constant discharging of impulses, fast consumption, and quick turnovers, at the expense of purposeful thought and reflection.

Once again, too many young people succumb to the influence of neoliberalism and its relentless refiguring of the public sphere as a site for displaying the personal by running from privacy, by making every aspect of their lives public. Or they limit their presence in the public sphere to posting endless images of themselves. In this instance, community becomes reduced to the sharing of a nonstop production of images in which the self becomes the only source of agency worth validating. At the same time, the popularity of selfies points beyond a pervasive narcissism, or a desire to collapse the public spheres into endless and shameless representations of the self.

Selfies and the culture they produce cannot be entirely collapsed into the logic of domination. More specifically, I don’t want to suggest that selfie culture is only a medium for various forms of narcissistic performance. Some commentators have suggested that selfies enable people to reach out to each other, present themselves in positive ways, and use selfies to drive social change. And there are many instances in which transgender people, people with disabilities, women of color, undocumented immigrants, and other marginalized groups are using selfies in proactive ways that do not buy into mainstream corporate selfie culture. In contrast to the market driven economy that encourages selfies as an act of privatization and consumption, some groups are using selfie culture to expand public dialogue rather than turn it over to commercial interests.

At the same time, there is considerable research indicating that “the reality of being watched results in feelings of low self-esteem, depression, and anxiety. Whether observed by a supervisor at work or by Facebook friends, people are inclined to conform and demonstrate less individuality and creativity” (Murphy, 2014). Moreover, the more people give away about themselves whether through selfies or the emptying out of their lives on other social media such as Facebook, “the more dissatisfaction with what they got in return for giving away so much about themselves” (Murphy, 2014). Is it any wonder that so many college students in the age of the selfie are depressed?

What is missing from this often romanticized and depoliticized view of the popularity of selfies is that the mass acceptance, proliferation, and commercial appropriation of selfies suggests that the growing practice of producing representations that once filled the public space that focused on important social problems and a sense of social responsibility are in decline among the American public, especially among the many young people whose identities and sense of agency are now shaped largely through the lens of a highly commodified celebrity culture. Ironically, there is an element of selfie culture that does not fall into this trap but is barely mentioned in mainstream media.

We now live in a market-driven age defined as heroic by the conservative Ayn Rand, who argued in her book The Virtue of Selfishness (1964) that self-interest was the highest virtue, and that altruism deserved nothing more than contempt. Of course, this is an argument that now dominates the discourse of the Republican Party, especially the extremist wing that now controls it and can be seen in the bluster and bloviating rhetoric of Donald Trump, a contender for the Republican Party nomination for the presidency of the United States. This retreat from the public good, compassion, and care for the other, and movement toward the legitimation of a culture of cruelty and moral indifference is often registered in strange signposts and popularized in the larger culture. For instance, one expression of this new celebrity-fed stupidity can be seen less in the endless prattle about the importance of selfies than in the rampant posturing inherent in selfie culture, most evident in the widely marketed fanfare over reality TV star Kim Kardashian’s appropriately named 450-page book Selfish (2015), the unique selling feature of which is that it contains 2,000 selfies. Stephen Burt’s (2015) description of the book is too revealing to ignore. He writes that the book:

collects photos of Kim by Kim, from a 1984 Polaroid of little Kim putting an earring on little Khloé to shots from Kim and Kanye’s epic wedding. Most are headshots—in limos, in hotel rooms, in low light at nightclubs; dozens are come-hither photos or revealing full-body shots. We see Kim getting dressed or undressed, lounging poolside or couchant on beds or “in my closet in Miami trying on clothes.” Kim dons a fur hat fit for a chic Russian winter, poses with a flashbulb above a toilet (“I love bathroom selfies”), models huge amber sunglasses, blows us a kiss. Often she does snap pics in bathrooms, where other photographers may not dare to tread.

(Burt, 2015)

There is more at work here than the marketing of a form of civic illiteracy and retrograde consumer consciousness in which the public is taught to mimic the economic success of alleged “brands,” there is also the pedagogical production of a kind of insufferable idiocy that remakes the meaning of agency, promoted endlessly through the celebration of celebrity culture as the new normal of mass entertainment. As Mark Fisher (2009) points out, this suggests a growing testimony to a commodified society in which “in a world of individualism everyone is trapped within their own feelings, trapped within their own imaginations, . . . and unable to escape the tortured conditions of solipsism” (p. 74). But there is more. Kim Kardashian (2015) makes a startling and important comment at one point in the book when she writes, “Since choice or chance gave me a way of life without privacy, I’ll violate my privacy myself, and I’ll have a good time doing it, too”(quoted in Burt) At a time when the surveillance state, corporations, and social media track our comings and goings, the voluntary giving up of privacy by so many people is barely registered as a threat to dissent and freedom.

Rethinking the Flight from Privacy as an Attack on Freedom

Under the surveillance state, the greatest threat one faces is not simply the violation of one’s right to privacy, but the fact that the public is subject to the dictates of authoritarian modes of governance it no longer seems interested in contesting. It is precisely this existence of unchecked power and the wider culture of political indifference that puts at risk the broader principles of liberty and freedom, which are fundamental to democracy itself. According to Quentin Skinner and Richard Marshall (2013):

The response of those who are worried about surveillance has so far been too much couched, it seems to me, in terms of the violation of the right to privacy. Of course it’s true that my privacy has been violated if someone is reading my emails without my knowledge. But my point is that my liberty is also being violated, and not merely by the fact that someone is reading my emails but also by the fact that someone has the power to do so should they choose. We have to insist that this in itself takes away liberty because it leaves us at the mercy of arbitrary power. It’s no use those who have possession of this power promising that they won’t necessarily use it, or will use it only for the common good. What is offensive to liberty is the very existence of such arbitrary power.

(Skinner & Marshall, 2013)

The rise of the mainstream appropriation of selfies under the surveillance state is only one register of the neoliberal-inspired flight from privacy. As I have argued elsewhere (Giroux, 2015), the dangers of the surveillance state far exceed the attack on privacy or warrant simply a discussion about balancing security against civil liberties. The critique of the flight from privacy fails to address how the growth of the surveillance state and its appropriation of all spheres of private life are connected to the rise of the punishing state, the militarization of American society, secret prisons, state-sanctioned torture, a growing culture of violence, the criminalization of social problems, the depoliticization of public memory, and one of the largest prison systems in the world, all of which, according to Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri (2012) “are only the most concrete, condensed manifestations of a diffuse security regime, in which we are all interned and enlisted” (p. 23). The authoritarian nature of the corporate-state surveillance apparatus and security system, notable for what Tom Engelhardt (2013) describes as its “urge to surveil, eavesdrop on, spy on, monitor, record, and save every communication of any sort on the planet,” can only be fully understood when its ubiquitous tentacles are connected to wider cultures of control and punishment, including security-patrolled corridors of public schools, the rise in super-max prisons, the hyper-militarization of local police forces, the rise of the military-industrial-academic complex, and the increasing labeling of dissent as an act of terrorism in the United States (see Giroux, 2011, 2012, 2014). Moreover, it must be recognized that the surveillance state is at its most threatening when it convinces the public to self-monitor themselves so that self-tracking becomes a powerful tool of the apparatus of state spying and control.

Selfies may be more than an expression of narcissism gone wild, the promotion of privatization over preserving public and civic culture with their attendant practice of social responsibility. They may also represent the degree to which the ideological and affective spaces of neoliberalism have turned privacy into mimicry of celebrity culture that both abets and is indifferent to the growing surveillance state and its totalitarian revolution, one that will definitely be televised in an endlessly repeating selfie that owes homage to George Orwell. Once again, it must be stressed that there are registers of representation in selfie culture that point in a different direction.

There are elements of selfie culture that neither subscribe to the Kardashian model of self-indulgence nor limit the potential of an alternative selfie culture to comments by a handful of mainstream feminists talking about photos being self-esteem builders. There is another trajectory of selfie culture at work that refuses the retreat into a false sense of empowerment and embraces modes of self-representation as a political act intent on redefining the relationship between the personal and the social in ways that are firmly wedded to social change. There are non-mainstream groups that are concerned with far more than building self-esteem in the superficial sense. For example, there are women of color, transgender and disabled people, who are using selfies to promote communities of healing and empowerment while also challenging a culture of cruelty that marks those who are different by virtue of their age, disability, gender identity, sexual orientation, and race as disposable. These activities have received increased attention from alternative media sites such as Browntourage, The Daily Dot, Fusion, and Viva La Feminista

Selfie Culture as a Site of Struggle

What is crucial to recognize here is that selfie culture itself can be a site of struggle, one that refuses to become complicit either with the politics of narcissism or the growing culture of surveillance. In this case, various individuals and groups are using selfie culture to expand the parameters of public dialogue, public issues, and the opportunity for different political identities to be seen and heard. This is a growing movement whose public presence has largely been ignored in the mainstream press because it connects the personal to the task of rewriting notions of self-presentation that stress matters of difference, justice, and shared beliefs and practices aimed at creating more inclusive communities. But this is a small movement when compared to the larger selfie culture caught in the endless display of a kind of depoliticized and unthinking flight from privacy.

Hannah Arendt (1968) has written that “Totalitarian domination as a form of government is new in that it is not content with . . . isolation and destroys private life as well. It bases itself on loneliness, on the experience of not belonging to the world at all, which is among the most radical and desperate experiences of man” (p. 475). Selfie culture cannot be viewed as synonymous with totalitarian politics; however, it reorganizes and rearranges private life, and in some instances fights such a political attitude. Yet, under the shadow of an authoritarian state, selfie culture can be used to denigrate the incarcerated, sell dangerous drugs, shame immigrants, promote bullying, and sexually oppress young girls.

The good news is that there is growing evidence that selfie culture can also be used to rewrite the relationship between the personal and the political and, in doing so, can expand the vibrancy of public discourse and work to prevent the collapse of public life. In this case, selfie culture moves away from the isolation and privatization of neoliberal culture and further enables those individuals and groups working to create a formative critical culture that better enables the translation of private troubles into public issues and promotes a further understanding of how public life affects private experiences. In contrast to the mainstream appropriation of selfie culture, this more empowering use of selfies becomes part of an emergent public, dedicated to undermining what Alex Honneth (2009) has called “an abyss of failed sociality” (p. 188). What selfie culture will become, especially under the force of neoliberal public pedagogy, presents a crucial site of struggle to address both the collapse of the public into the private and the rise of the punishing and surveillance state—a fight desperately worth waging.

At the same time, it is crucial to stress that digital promiscuity is not a virtue or an unproblematic attempt to establish connections with others. On the contrary, it is, within the current reign of the national security state, a free pass for state and corporate power to spy on its citizens by encouraging their flight from privacy. Privacy rights are crucial as one bulwark against the surveillance state. When the public is forced to police the realm of the private, the suppression of dissent becomes all the more formidable and paves the way for a range of anti-democratic practices, policies, and modes of governance. As long as selfie culture lacks a self-consciousness and political understanding about what the implications are in a surveillance state for giving up one’s privacy, in the effort to produce a new politics of representation, this culture will speak less to new modes of resistance than to the practice of becoming complicitous with a new mode of state terrorism and a neoliberal reign of oppression.

Any attempt to address the rise of selfie culture globally has to recognize the larger and more comprehensive politics and modes of public pedagogy that shape a given society. Matters of power, inequality, and politics are crucial in determining the values, practices, and impact any given technology will have on a social order. The struggle over how one fashions the self, constructs a viable identity, produces representations of oneself, and enables a particular form of agency cannot be separated from how mainstream politics and the forces of neoliberalism work to change how people see things, to produce moments of identification, and to define what counts as a viable mode of agency. Such moments point to how valuable it is to recognize how crucial education is to politics.

The issue is not how we view ourselves, but how we understand who we are in relation to others and the larger public good. Any notion of selfie culture or the project of self-fashioning that does not press for the claims of economic and social justice will fall prey to the morbid symptoms of a society in which the self is removed from the worldliness of the public realm and is destined to wither in the shadow of an authoritarian society. Lowenthal (1987) argued that “the modern system of terror amounts to the atomization of the individual” in which “human beings live in a state of stupor, in a moral coma” (pp. 181–182). The struggle over selfie culture will have to face the challenges posed by privatization and commodification and, in doing so, will struggle against rather than heighten the atomization of the individual. This suggests a struggle over not only the conditions of agency but the future of democracy itself.

Further Reading

Arendt, H. (1968). Ideology and terror: A novel form of government. In The origins of totalitarianism (pp. 460–482). New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.

Bauman, Z., & Donskis, L. (2013). Moral blindness: the loss of sensitivity in liquid modernity. Cambridge, U.K.: Polity Press

Bauman, Z., & Lyons, D. (2013). Liquid surveillance. Cambridge, U.K.: Polity Press.

Crary, J. (2013). 24/7: Late capitalism and the ends of sleep. Brooklyn, NY: Verso Press.

Evans, B., & Giroux, H. A. (2015). Disposable Futures: The seduction of violence in the age of the spectacle. San Francisco: City Lights.

Fisher, M. (2009). Capitalist realism: Is there no alternative? Winchester, U.K.: Zero Books.

Giroux, H. A. (2001). Public spaces, private lives: Beyond the culture of cynicism. Lanham, MD: Rowman & Littlefield.

Harvey, D. (2005). A brief history of neoliberalism. Oxford: Oxford University Press,

Judt, T. (2010). Ill fares the land. New York: Penguin Press.

Lasch, C. (1991). The culture of narcissism: American life in an age of diminishing expectations. New York: Norton.

References

Amin, S. (2001). Imperialism and globalization. Monthly Review, 53(2), 6.

Arendt, H. (2013). Hannah Arendt: The last interview and other conversations. Brooklyn, NY: Melville House

BBC News. (June 7, 2013). Self-portraits and social media: The rise of the “selfie.” BBC News Magazine.

Biressi, A., & Nunn, H. (Spring 2014). Selfishness in austerity times, Soundings, 56(1), 54–66.

Bourdieu, P., & Grass, G. (2002). The “Progressive” restoration: A Franco-German dialogue. New Left Review, 14, 62–77.

Burt, S. (July 27, 2015). Kim, Caitlyn, and the people we want to see.” The New Yorker.

Dorfman, A. (February 3, 2014). Repression by any other name. Guernica.

Engelhardt, T. (November 12, 2013). Tomgram: Engelhardt, a surveillance state scorecard. Tom Dispath.com.

Feffer, J. (June 4, 2014). Participatory totalitarianism. CommonDreams.

Giroux, H. A. (2011). Zombie politics and culture in the age of casino capitalism. New York: Peter Lang.

Giroux, H. A. (2012). The twilight of the social. Boulder, CO: Paradigm Press.

Giroux, H. A. (2014). The violence of organized forgetting. San Francisco: City Lights.

Giroux, H. A. (2015). Totalitarian paranoia in the post-Orwellian surveillance state. Truthout.

Greenwald, G. (2015). No place to hide: Edward Snowden, the NSA, and the U.S. surveillance state. New York: Picador.

Hardt, M., & Negri, A.Declaration. (2012). New York: Argo Navis.

Honneth, A. (2009). Pathologies of reason. New York: Columbia University Press.

Kardashian, K. (2015). Selfish. New York: Universe.

Lowenthal, L. (1987). Atomization of man. In L. Lowenthal (Ed.), False prophets: Studies in authoritarianism. New Brunswick, NJ: Transaction Books.

Maddeaux, S. (July 31, 2015). The rise of richface: Why so many young women are getting cosmetic surgery. The Globe and Mail.

Massey, D. (2013). Vocabularies of the economy. Soundings, 54.

Murphy, K. (October 4, 2014). We want privacy but can’t stop sharing. New York Times.

Parramore, L. S. (December 30, 2014). Can we escape narcissism in America? 5 possible antidotes. Alternet.

Pilger, J. (February 13, 2014). “Good” and “bad” war and the struggle of memory against forgetting. New Statesman.

Reaney, P. (November, 2014). Nip, tuck, click: Demand for U.S. plastic surgery rises in selfie era. Reuters.

Sandler J., Person, E. S., & Fonagy, P. (1991). Freud’s “On narcissism: An introduction. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.

Skinner, Q. & Marshall, R. (July 26, 2013). Liberty, liberalism, and surveillance: A historic overview. Open Democracy.

St, Claire, J. (May 23–25, 2014). The economics of contempt. CounterPunch.

Stiglitz, J. E. (December 21, 2013). In no one we trust. New York Times.

Werleman, C. J. (June 18, 2014). Americans are dangerously politically ignorant—The numbers are shocking.

Wilderson, F. B. III. (2012). Red, white, & black. London: Duke University Press.

Williams, R. (1967). Preface to the Second Edition. In R. Williams (Ed.), Communications (pp. 15–16). Harmondsworth, U.K.: Penguin.

Source:

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Why universities must defend democracy

By: Henry Giroux

The march in Charlottesville, Va., earlier this summer by white supremacists, neo-Nazis and other right-wing extremists illuminated the growing danger of authoritarian movements both in the United States and across the globe.

It’s signalling a danger that mimics the increasingly forgotten horrors of the 1930s.

Neo-Nazis in the United States, and possibly those worldwide, appear especially emboldened because they’ve found a comfortable, if not supportive, place at the highest levels of the U.S. government.

President Donald Trump’s administration has included white supremacist sympathizers like Steve Bannon, Jeff Sessions and Stephen Miller. All three embrace elements of the nefarious racist ideology that was on full display in Charlottesville.

Trump’s refusal to denounce their Nazi slogans and violence in strong political and ethical terms has suggested his own complicity with such movements.

It should surprise no one that David Duke, a former imperial wizard of the Ku Klux Klan, told the media in the midst of the violence in Charlottesville that white supremacists were “going to fulfil the promises of Donald Trump … to take our country back.”

‘God bless him’

Nor should it surprise anyone that Trump’s silence delighted the far right.

The Daily Stormer, a white supremacist website, even had this to say: “No condemnation at all. When asked to condemn, he just walked out of the room. Really, really good. God bless him.”

It appears that the presence of Nazi and Confederate flags celebrating a horrendous history of millions lost to the Holocaust and slavery, of lynchings and church bombings, and the assassinations of Black civil rights leaders like Medgar Evans and Martin Luther King, Jr., did little to move Trump.

Charlottesville has resurrected elements of a past that resulted in some of the worst crimes in human history. The ideology, values and institutions of a liberal democracy are once again under assault by those who don’t believe in equality, justice and democracy.

All of these alarming developments raise serious questions about the role of higher education in a democracy.

What role, if not responsibility, do universities have in the face of a new wave of authoritarianism?

What purpose should education serve when rigorous knowledge is replaced by opinions, the truth is labelled “fake news” by the president of the United States and his devotees, unbridled self-interest replaces the social good and language operates in the service of fear, violence and a culture of cruelty?

Universities must hold up democratic ideals

Surely, institutions of higher education cannot limit their role to training at a time when democracy is under assault around the world.

Colleges and universities must define themselves anew as a public good, a protective space for the promotion of democratic ideals, of the social imagination, civic values and a critically engaged citizenship.

Renowned education professor Jon Nixon argues that education must be developed as “a protected space within which to think against the grain of received opinion: a space to question and challenge, to imagine the world from different standpoints and perspectives, to reflect upon ourselves in relation to others and, in so doing, to understand what it means to assume responsibility.”

Given the ongoing attack on civic literacy, truth, historical memory and justice, surely it’s all the more imperative for colleges and universities to teach students to do more than master work-based skills.

Instead, we must educate them to become intelligent, compassionate, critically engaged adults fully aware of the fact that without informed citizens, there is no democracy.

There’s much more at stake here than protecting and opening the boundaries of free speech. There is the more crucial necessity to deepen and expand the formative cultures and public spheres that make democracy possible.

Educators cannot forget that the struggle over democracy is about much more than the struggle over economic resources and power. It’s also about language, agency, desire, identity and imagining a future without injustice.

Return to authoritarianism not far-fetched

As the historian Timothy Snyder has observed, it’s crucial to remember that the success of authoritarian regimes in Germany and other places succeeded, in part, because they were not stopped in the early stages of their development.

The events in Charlottesville provide a glimpse of authoritarianism on the rise and shine a spotlight upon the forces that are trying usher in a new and dangerous era, both in the United States and worldwide.

While it may seem far-fetched to assume American-style totalitarianism will soon become the norm in the United States, a return to authoritarianism is clearly no longer the stuff of fantasy or hysterical paranoia.

That’s especially since its core elements of hatred, exclusion, racism and white supremacy have been incorporated into both the highest echelons of political power and throughout the mainstream right-wing media, especially Fox News and Breitbart.

The authoritarian drama unfolding in the United States includes the use of state force against immigrants, right-wing populist violence against mosques and synagogues and attacks on Muslims, young Blacks and others who do not fit into the vile script of white nationalism.

Charlottesville was just part of a larger trend of domestic terrorism and homegrown fascism that is on the upswing in the United States.

Trump’s administration, after all, has announced it will no longer “investigate white nationalists, who have been responsible for a large share of violent hate crimes in the Unites States.”

U.S. President Donald Trump speaks to the media in the lobby of the Trump Tower in New York in the days following the white supremacist violence in Charlottesville, Va. (AP Photo/Pablo Martinez Monsivais)

Trump has also lifted restrictions imposed by the Obama administration in order to provide local police departments with military surplus equipment such as armed vehicles, bullet-proof vests and grenade launchers.

These actions accelerate Trump’s law-and-order agenda, escalate racial tensions in cities that are often treated like combat zones and reinforce a warrior mentality among police officers.

Equally telling is Trump’s presidential pardon of Joe Arpaio, the notorious white supremacist and disgraced former sheriff of Maricopa County, Arizona. Not only did Arpaio engage in racial profiling, despite being ordered by the court to desist, he also had a notorious reputation for abusing prisoners in his Tent City, which he once called “a concentration camp.”

A nod to domestic terrorism

There is more at work here than Trump’s endorsement of white nationalism; he’s also sending a clear message of support for a culture of violence that both legitimizes and gives meaning to acts of domestic terrorism.

What’s more, there’s a clear contempt for the rule of law. And there’s also an endorsement not just for racist ideology, but for institutional racism and consequently the primacy of the race-based incarceration state.

In his various comments, tweets and policies, Trump has made clear that he does not see himself as the leader of the country, but as the head of a right-wing movement fuelled by rage, isolation, social atomization and communal disintegration, galvanized by a culture of fear and bigotry. He preys upon a populist hatred of democracy.

At the moment we’re seeing a looming collapse of civic culture.

A healthy democracy always struggles to preserve its ideals, values and practices. When taken for granted, justice dies, social responsibility becomes a burden and the seeds of authoritarianism flourish.

We may be in the midst of dark times, but resistance is no longer an option but a necessity.

And educators have a particular responsibility to address this growing assault on democracy. Any other option is an act of complicity, and a negation of what it means for education to matter in a democratic society.

Source:

https://theconversation.com/why-universities-must-defend-democracy-83481

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Trump and the Politics of Nihilism

By. Henry Giroux

Ignorance is a terrible wound when it is self-inflicted, but it becomes a dangerous plague when the active refusal to know combines with power. President Trump’s lies, lack of credibility, woefully deficient knowledge of the world, and unbridled narcissism have suggested for some time that he lacks the intelligence, judgment and capacity for critical thought necessary to occupy the presidency of the United States. But when coupled with his childish temperament, his volatile impetuousness and his Manichaean conception of a world—a reductionist binary that only views the world in term of friends and enemies, loyalists and traitors—his ignorance translates into a confrontational style that puts lives, if not the entire planet, at risk.

Trump’s seemingly frozen and dangerous fundamentalism, paired with his damaged ethical sensibility, suggests that we are dealing with a form of nihilistic politics in which the relationship between the search for truth and justice on the one hand and moral responsibility and civic courage on the other has disappeared. For the past few decades, as historian Richard Hofstadter and others have reminded us, politics has been disconnected not only from reason but also from any viable notion of meaning and civic literacy. Government now runs on willful ignorance as the planet heats up, pollution increases and people die. Evidence is detached from argument. Science is a subspecies of “fake news,” and alternative facts are as important as the truth. Violence becomes both the catalyst and the result of the purposeful effort to empty language of any meaning. Under such circumstances, Trump gives credence to the notion that lying is now a central feature of leadership and should be normalized, and this serves as an enabling force for violence.

For Trump, words no longer bind. Moreover, his revolting masculinity now stands in for dialogue and his lack of an ethical imagination. Trump has sucked all of the oxygen out of democracy and has put into play a culture and mode of politics that kill empathy, revel in cruelty and fear and mutilate democratic ideals. Trump’s worldview is shaped by Fox News and daily flattering and sycophantic news clips, compiled by his staff, that boost his deranged need for emotional validation.

All of this relieves him of the need to think and empathize with others. He inhabits a privatized and self-indulgent world in which tweets are perfectly suited to colonizing public space and attention with his temper tantrums, ill-timed provocations, and incendiary vocabulary. His call for loyalty is shorthand for developing a following of stooges who offer him a false and egregiously grotesque sense of community—one defined by a laughable display of ignorance and a willingness to eliminate any vestige of human dignity.

Anyone who communicates intelligently is now part of the “fake news” world that Trump has invented. Language is now forced into the service of violence. Impetuousness and erratic judgment have become central to Trump’s leadership, one that is as ill-informed as it is unstable. Trump has ushered in a kind of anti-politics and mode of governance in which any vestige of informed judgment and thought is banished as soon as it appears. His rigid, warlike mentality has created an atmosphere in the United States in which dialogue is viewed as a weakness and compromise understood as personal failing.

As Hofstadter argued more than 50 years ago, fundamentalist thinking is predicated on an anti-intellectualism and the refusal to engage other points of view. The “other” is not confronted as someone worthy of respect but as an enemy, a threatening presence that must be utterly vanquished—and in Trump’s case, humiliated and then destroyed.

Philosopher Michel Foucault elucidated the idea that fundamentalists do not confront the other as “a partner in the search for the truth but an adversary, an enemy who is wrong, who is harmful, and whose very existence constitutes a threat. … There is something even more serious here: in this comedy, one mimics war, battles, annihilations, or unconditional surrenders, putting forward as much of one’s killer instinct as possible.”

Trump is missing a necessity in his fundamentalist toolbox: self-reflection coupled with informed judgment. He lacks the ability to think critically about the inevitable limitations of his own arguments, and he is not held morally accountable to the social costs of harboring racist ideologies and pushing policies that serve to deepen racist exclusions, mobilize fear and legitimize a growing government apparatus of punishment and imprisonment. What connects the moral bankruptcy of right-wing ideologues such as Trump and his acolytes—who embrace violent imagery to mobilize their followers with the mindset of religious and political extremists—is that they share a deep romanticization of violence that is valorized by old and new fundamentalisms.

The current crisis with North Korea represents not only the possibility of a nuclear war triggered by the irrational outburst of an unhinged leader, but also a death-dealing blow to the welfare state, young people, immigrants, Muslims and others deemed dangerous and therefore “disposable.”

Trump has replaced politics with the theater and poison of nihilism. His politics combines spectacle with vengeance, violence and a culture of cruelty. Trump’s impetuous and badly informed comments about North Korea represent more than a rash, thoughtless outburst. Rather, they contribute to rising tensions and the increased possibility of a major military conflict. Trump’s dangerous rhetoric is symptomatic of the death of historical consciousness, public memory, critical thinking and political agency itself at the highest levels of governance. Under such circumstances, politics degenerates into dogma coupled with a game-show mentality symptomatic of a perpetual form of political theater that has morphed into a new kind of mass mediated barbarism. This is how democracy ends, with a bang and a whimper.

Source:

Trump and the Politics of Nihilism

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