The Ambiguous Politics of Deconstruction

For left-leaning students of philosophy Michael Ryan's "Marxism and Deconstruction" (1982) seems like a useful introduction to opaque world of deconstruction. His introductory deconstruction of Hobbes' Leviathan is an illuminating example of what deconstruction in action might look like.

Hobbes aims to provide a timeless justification for an enlightened despotism. To achieve his aim of expounding an indubitable rational justification for the political regime, Hobbes points out the importance of beginning from first principles that are free from all ambiguity. He is explicit that the language of the argument must exclude all ambiguity, including metaphor (ch6). This is why so much of the book is taken up with definitions that aim to clarify once and for all the terms of the argument.

In Hobbes's insistence on a unequivocal meanings for words the critic sees an attitude that mirrors the authoritatianism of the political system that is being defended (a system in which everyone in society is subject to the single will of the sovereign who is beyond criticism and who is presumed to be justified in tolerating no dissent).

Decontruction aims to show, firstly, that what the system aims to exclude and denigrate is actually an essential component of the system itself.

The method in the case of the critique of Hobbes involves identifying ways in which the argument relies on metaphor or involves ambiguities that could not be removed simply by tidying up the list of definitions. Ryan mentions the most obvious metaphor: that of the Leviathan (the state pictured as the beast mentioned in the story of Job). The first thing the reader sees before opening the book is a metaphor. However, this particular metaphor is arguably external to Hobbes's main line of argument. More importantly, Hobbes's argument rests upon the metaphor of the body (of the entire human being) as a machine: "For what is the Heart, but a Spring; and the Nerves, but so many Strings; and the Joynts, but so many Wheeles, giving motion to the whole Body, such as was intended by the artificer?" (Introduction) This metaphor is immediately applied to the commonwealth, "in which, the Soveraignty is an Artificiall Soul, as giving life and motion to the whole body". This clears the way for a description of the human situation as a blind play of forces, with individuals at war with each other unless there is a greater force over them to crush their ambitions. Unless the human situation is viewed mechanistically and atomistically at the outset, the argument cannot possibly convince.
Another important metaphor appears in the form of the laws of nature that are moral laws followed of necessity in the state of nature. These play a crucial role in justifying the authority of the (artificial) laws of the commonwealth. The first Law of Nature is that "a man is forbidden to do that which is destructive of his life, or taketh away the means of preserving the same; and to omit, that, by which he thinketh it may be best preserved." (ch9) But the idea of a law of nature like this relies on an analogy with the laws of society so that, in effect, what is presented as a more fundamental principle is actually derived from the conclusion it was meant to prove.
The deconstructive critique aims at identifying the cracks in what is supposed to be a water-tight theoretical system - and doing it from the inside by looking closely at the relationship between the various categories: metaphorical and literal/univocal, or natural and artificial, for instance, and identifying the way a supposedly external relationship can be seen to be a relationship of interdependence.

Ryan is keen to attribute a radical political significance to such a deconstructive critique. The breakdown of a system like Hobbes's is supposed to point towards revolutionary democracy. He equates the metaphorical displacement of meaning with the sedition (the potential displacement of sovereignty) that Hobbes expressly wants to prevent (his commonwealth is one in which there will be no right to protest against the decisions of the sovereign), and he sums up the conclusion of the deconstructive critique in the following terms: "There is no sovereign meaning outside of displacement, which is therefore a condition of possibility of sovereign meaning." This maps onto an argument about political sovereignty that has the same structure: "There is no political sovereignty outside of the possibility of sedition. Without sedition, there would be no necessity for sovereignty."(p5) Ryan seems to assume that the person who accepts this is bound to become an advocate of revolutionary democracy - a political state of affairs in which the continual possibility of sedition is affirmed instead of excluded and denied. This sort of political system that continually allows itself to be unravelled as the excluded factions continually challenge their exclusion (and are embraced instead of being gunned down or labelled as terrorists and imprisoned) is, according to Ryan, "the deconstructive possibility expressed politically".(p5)

The question is: Is Ryan justified in believing that the social system has thereby been effectively challenged (if only in theory - which is all we can hope for in philosophy)? The arguments about metaphor and the possibility of sedition are convincing, but is someone who accepts them then caught in some kind of contradiction or untenable position if they then try to create a situation where there will be no sedition? The architects of a Brave New World type of society (a benevolent totalitarianism) would be well aware of the possibility of sedition while taking every benign measure to reduce the possibility to as close to zero as possible. In practice, is the behaviour of the Brave New architects not a consistent one (although repugnant)? Doesn't it look as if the critique has not really hit home? The possibility can be recognised even as the chances of its actualization are dept to an absolute minimum.

One reason for this lack of critical import is that the critique remains entirely immanent to the theoretical system being considered. In this sense, deconstruction is as much a form of idealism as the sort of philosophy being criticised. There is a contrast here with Adorno, who occasionally uses the term materialism to indicate that he relies on a reference to experience when working out and presenting his critiques. In the case of increasingly all-encompassing social systems (which Adorno was very concerned with) his critique looks carefully at the relationship between the predominant categories but also takes its motivation from an experience of the negativity of that system (of its unpleasantness, or the suffering that it inflicts in one way or another). Without this reference to experience the critique does not really bite.

Doubtless there is a tendency to see experiences like this as a very shaky basis for anything purporting to be philosophy, but without this content it is hard to see how a philosophy that also aims to be a critique of society can have the significance it would like to have.

A second doubt about the supposed political import of the deconstructive critique is that a political system can embrace ambiguity in a way that could never be conceived of as liberating or progressive (assuming the project or activity of deconstruction is indeed orientated towards such values and is not motivated simply by a joy in picking holes in other people's arguments). My own experience of a mammoth and labyrinthine Greek bureaucracy is that ambiguity and a lack of clarity can be built into a system in part at least to facilitate corruption, enabling injustice to hide behind laws and making it all the more difficult for individuals to insist on their rights without bribing their way into the favours of someone on the inside of the inscrutable system.

(P.s. This ain't deconstruction? Put me straight.)