Monday, November 1, 2010

In defense of theory (and a response to the film)

I am curious about the reactions to theory. In my mind, theory is not the exclusive realm of philosophers and we enter into all kinds of trouble when we collapse the two. Theory shares the same project as poetry: it struggles to express ways of knowing and being in the world that cannot be contained by language. Take Judith Butler, for example. A number of people registered surprise at how lucid she was in the film, noting (rightfully so) that her language is often dense and impenetrable. But isn't that the point? Her project is, in part, about the impossibility of language as a communication tool. One sees much the same thing in Elliot, Donne, or Atwood. This is certainly not to suggest that theory is the only path of acquiring knowledge in the world, nor that there is only one kind of theory. Yes there are trends, but a paper that does not engage with Marx is not a lesser paper. Fuck Marx, or Butler, or Derrida, or whoever else. Being able to consider the implications of the Hegelian project on neo-liberal constructions of time is not a measure of intelligence. Sticking to your guns and knowing your own field is such a measure. There will always be people who try to make you feel bad about yourself because you don't use their theory. Rest assured that most of them are desperately insecure. But even if one works in the most obscure branch of literature, one is still engaging on some level with theoretical frameworks.

I should say that I think of theory and practice as two very different things, although they exist in a co-dependent relationship. Whenever I hear someone decry theory in the Humanities, I want to ask: why are you here? Humanistic academic learning (and feel free to disagree) is always based in theory, for the purpose of producing theory. Certainly that can look like a number of different things, but humanistic learning is not about practice. The push to make it so is a contributing factor behind the decade-long attack against the humanities and all the silly reasons why we need to justify our existence.

I do think theory gives me a guideline on how to live my life. Is it the only guideline? Certainly not. In the three years I spent working between my MA and PhD I bumped up against the theory/practice divide every single day. I had studied, thought about, and written on feminist pedagogical praxis for years, but when the time came to actually apply those theories, the messiness of life interrupted and I was left faking it. But at the same time, when I was trying to develop a practice to react to a certain situation, theory was always there as a tool, a guideline. Like any good scientist, I can now use those experiences to refine theory. And so the great circle of intellectual development continues.

Re: The Examined Life. I fully agree with Singer's statement that the decision to spend money is a political act and is one of the most potent sites of resistance that subjects in a capitalist economy have. Can you image what would happen if everyone stopped shopping at Wal-Mart for a week? My question, though, is this: with whom does the burden of ethics lie? Let's take the university for example. As graduate students, tuition is paid on our behalf (whether out of our own pocket or through scholarships/packages). We are all well aware that the jobs that our PhD program are ostensibly preparing us for no longer exist. Therefore, universities have an ethical problem. However, is the burden of ethics on them for not being able/willing to provide the kind of career implicitly promised by the programs, or is it on us for handing over our money in the first place and thus complicity agreeing with what is happening?




1 comment: