Hunter's "The History of Theory"

Ian Hunter's article, "The History of Theory" (Critical Inquiry 33, 78-112 [pdf]), has come up in recent discussions as an alternative to the rather stagnant "'Theory' Wars" that seem to creep up every so often.

Some non-exhaustive comments/notes:

(1) His essay begins, "One of the most striking features of recent discussions of the moment of theory in the humanities is the lack of even proximate agreement what the object of such theory might be and about the language in which it has been or should be conducted" (78). He continues, "it is fruitless to begin a history of theory by trying to identify its common object or shared language" (80). All the same, Hunter proceeds throughout his essay to deflate a wide body of literature under the single, monolithic heading of 'theory' in order to tie his larger argument together. (Larger argument discussed below.) The deflation occurs through the construction of a rather strange chain of equivalences: "the contents of theory ... together with its cognates structuralism and post-structuralism" (80), "in the emergence of what would become known as deconstructive philosophy and, more generally, theory" (81), "the inseparability of structuralism and post-structuralism" (82), "a certain kind of philosopher or theorist" (85) and "the apprentice phenomenologist or theorist" (86). This chain combines and recombines throughout: 'philosopher and theorist' and 'phenomenologist or theorist,' on the oen hand, and 'deconstructive philosophy, that is, theory' and "structuralism and post-structuralism, that is, theory,' on the other. Thus, the philosopher, the theorist and the phenomenologist are all equivalent. Similarly, deconstructive philosophy, structuralism and post-structuralism are all the same, that is, 'theory.' On the one hand, a chain of "figures of thought" (95) and their "postures" (83). Hunter's avowal to avoid identifying the "object" and "language" of "theory" results in him calling nearly everything "theory." It seems, on this level, his project is a non-starter. If "theory" does not have a history (he constructs this counter-argument in parallel with Derrida's remarks on philosophy; but, then, why not begin with Althusser; viz, "ideology has no history"?) it isn't for the reasons he is arguing against or for the reasons his "opponents" suggest: it is because "theory" is an object that has resisted definition. (c.f., Nietzsche, of course, "only that which has no history can be defined.")

(2) The question of Hunter's sincerity must be raised. That is, to what extent is Hunter, qua historian of theory, willing to take the claims and arguments of those he is studying seriously. I can't help but wonder, especially insofar as he quickly drops his original term, "attitude," for another, "posture." For instance, "theory's posture of critique adopted in relation to so-called empiricist and positivist sciences" (83), "the posture of intellectual contempt for the sciences of facts" (87) and theory as a set of "veiled instructions" (96).

(3) The explicit and implicit uses of Foucault leave me a bit worried. The main thrust of his argument is that theory is an "attitude" (81), a "posture" (83; see point above for more references), a "figure of thought" and a "conception of history" (95), the "work of the self on the self" (96), "a particularly intense hermeneutics of the self" (98, 105), and a "persona" (104). The only reference throughout the paper on these concepts is to Foucault's lecture, "On The Beginning of the Hermeneutics of the Self," which discusses Greek and early Christian ethical practices. The problem here is that Hunter unproblematically lifts these concepts - without citation, attribution, or discussion - from a discussion of ancient ethics and "applies" them to the present. While it is certainly possible to construct an analytic of ethical practices, Hunter does no such thing, points to no such discussion elsewhere, and removes a particular argument from its context transforming it into a trans-historical "theory." While he implicitly structures his argument around Foucault's last works on ethics, he explicitly attacks Foucault's earlier archeaological works, without a discussion of the possibility of transformations in Foucault's own thought through his career. (For instance, why archaeology was displaced by genealogy which was displaced by ethics.) In addition to failing to elaborate upon his (re-)working of ethos, Hunter also fails to convincingly explain why this is the best way to proceed with a history of theory. Even if he is right that a focus upon language or object is prone to failure, this does not guarantee that his own approach is correct.

(4) The discussion of "literary theory" is preposterous, especially coming from a quasi-Foucauldian like himself. "When, in the 1970s, literary theory opened its campaign for control of Anglo-American English departments - for example, in works by Jonathan Culler, Eagleton, and Jameson - it did so through a particular delegitimizataion and reconstruction of the existing discipline, in this case various versions of the so-called New Criticism" (104). The first problem is the distinction between "literary theory" and "New Criticism" (as though New Criticism isn't already "literary theory") and the relation between "literary theory" (a term which only begins to appear at this point in his argument) and "theory" as such. But these problems are not particularly interesting. What is more interesting is the claim of a "campaign," which is signalled by three cited texts; Culler's Structuralist Poetics (1975), Eagleton's Criticism and Ideology (1978) and Jameson's Marxism and Form (1971). For a campaign, the opening salvo is quite dispersed over time (a period of seven years stretching from the early to the late seventies), leaving one to wonder how co-ordinated it was in the first place; i.e., the extent to which it was a "campaign" which already suggests the previous existence of an intentional, defined programme with specific objectives. In other words, it presupposes the existence of not only a "strategy," but also a "strategist." There's little indication that such a strategy or strategist existed. And, if there was, Hunter makes no reference to it - except, of course, three books published a number of years apart, two of which were "Marxist" and one of which was "structuralist." Worse for his argument is that he suggests that campaign was buttressed by the "prestigious persona of the theorist" (104). But how could the "persona of the theorist" be "prestigious" if it had not yet laid claim to dominance within the discipline? If a campaign was launched, it was to gain control of the discipline and, thus, enact a redistribution of awards and statuses. The objective of the campaign - i.e., statuses - cannot be a weapon on the part of the challenger; a challenger attacking the already existing status of the ("so-called") New Criticism. Further, is there possibly any conflict between the explanation of theory as ethic and theory as campaign for control?

(5) Finally, the discussion of social theory - something I had looked forward to being a "social theorist" myself - was not only disappointing, but wrong. The reason that Hunter is wrong is that he ignores the larger context of sociology - the discipline in which social theory is practiced - in the sixties and seventies. His argument is as though Habermas just appears. First, he claims that Habermas presents the introduction of phenomenology into sociology. This is not the case at all. Sociological theory (i.e., Parsonian structural-functionalism) was already under attack from within sociology by Parsons' own students, specifically the ethnomethodology of Garfinkle based upon Schutz's social phenomenology. For Garfinkle, the attempt to was to re-direct sociology from the "macro" to the "micro" - a programme rapidly followed up, in different ways, by people such as Goffman and Geertz. Indeed, the phenomenological movement within sociology was already so pronounced prior to Habermas' intervention that Habermas was able to attempt a synthesis of Parsonian macro-sociology and Garfinkle-ian micro-sociology. The issue, then, is one that Hunter signals earlier in his essay ("Our argument, though, is that this reworking took place not through the virtual relations of the episteme but as a series of concrete intellectual struggles" (103), but which also disappears at its most manifest moment; viz., the attempt for any discourse seeking to pass through the threshold of scientificity to transcend its essential lack of foundations (something Hunter notes earlier, "do battle for the privilege of foundational status" (79)). While he is correct to see Habermas as an intervention into the issue of foundations and to see Habermas as proposing a "social theory" solution to the problem. (Although not explicitly thematized as such.) He nonetheless misses the relevant dispute between sociological theory (or, in Parsonian language, "a general theory of society") and social theory (that is, the introduction of interpretative, symbolic and cultural concerns into sociology that had been displaced by macro-structural concerns of integration).

Comments

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Let me try this another way, Craig. You asked whether I thought you were a professional, to which I'll answer here: "No, not yet." You don't seem ready to write a dissertation yet because you don't attack the strong form of other people's arguments. I second what John wrote, not because I'm unwilling to challenge him—because if you'd paid attention, you'd have notice that he and I favor different attitudes, nay, postures toward theory—but because it speaks to your inability to consider seriously the arguments of those with whom you're inclined to disagree:

The proof is this: if someone treated Foucault the way you treat Hunter - that is, if they rather darkly hinted not just that he was unserious in his treatment of Enlightenment but actually dishonest - simply because he uses the term 'attitude', then trades it for semi-synonyms, you would be extremely indignant. You would regard this as a sloppy, careless dismissal of Foucault. Yet you have yourself treated Hunter this way; that is, you are preparing to hold him to a standard that - if it were applied to a thinker you admire, like Foucault - you would regard as imposed simply to have an excuse not to treat him seriously.

Do you disagree with John's evaluation of your "engagement" with Hunter? Have you constructed the strong form of Hunter's argument and engaged it? Or have you sought out and found the inevitable chinks in any argument and used them as a means of dismissing this particular one? (Jon, quite smartly, I think, makes this point from the opposite direction above vis-a-vis Hunter and Foucault.)

As for this:

Surely a question in relation to Husserl, Heidegger or Nietzsche is not "uncharitable" when one is dealing with Derrida!

Yes, it is, when asked as you did, i.e. from a position of prejudice. I could just as easily counter your critique with "Surely a question in relation to Brentano, Parmenides and Kant is not 'uncharitable' when one is dealing with Husserl, Heidegger or Nietzsche!" When you trot out the universe of unaddressed possibilities specifically to avoid addressing the argument at hand, yes, I do consider that uncharitable.

[Jon]

John, to answer your question again...

Jon, do you think that 'good posture' has an air of paradox to it? (Hint: I think the short answer is 'no'.)

I also think the short answer is no.

But I won't bother with a longer answer, because you can't seem to be bothered reading them, let alone engaging with them. Which, incidentally, I find a little strange (if not quite jaw-dropping) in that the argument I'm suggesting is strictly neutral vis-a-vis this debate on theory.

Jon, I think the venue of publication is significant here. To claim that an article sandwiched (in this issue) between ones by Jameson and Zizek betrays an insincere engagement with the arguments of people like Jameson and Zizek makes me wonder how sincere Craig is in his engagement with Hunter.

Scott, this is bizarre. As is your notion that Craig has simply "nitpick[ed] through Hunter's argument,"

I remain astounded at the ways in which you (John and Scott), plus Rich, have so gone for Craig, in so personal ways, without either dealing with the substantive points of his reading, or offering your own reading.

Oh, and this in the name of charitable readings.

Again, extraordinary.

[Anthony Paul Smith]

What the fuck are you guys doing? Can I ask, especially for Rich Pulchasky, if you dislike each other so much and think the other is so wrong-headed in which ever way you think they're wrongheaded (to counter any Holbonian defence of how he's just doing this or that) why the hell do you guys even talk to one another? Do you really see a point? I can understand seeing a point a year ago, but this is just the same thing over and over again. John will never accept what you guys have to say, Craig will never give you an argument, Rich will never not be exasperatingly dull. So, why not just ignore one another?

[Rich Puchalsky]

Jon, when someone is arguing like a 16 year old, there isn't really anything to do but shrug and say that they're arguing like a 16 year old. For example:

"It is a fair question to Hunter (or his supporters) to ask about the meaning "posture" and his intent in using the word in forms such as "the posture of critique." If there is a problem of charity, Scott, it is that you aren't willing to question your superiors (Holbo, Hunter, or whatever). That is, you aren't being "charitable" to Hunter, but, rather, "blindly obedient.""

Note how, in the above, people who don't think that Hunter should be casually charged with insincerity have become "his supporters", as if they not only agreed with Hunter substantively, but also knew his intent. Also note how by the end of the paragraph, Craig has been reduced to telling Scott that Scott isn't a brave rebel like he is.

That is Craig's standard mode. As I remember, he was the one who thought that calling me an Acolyte for agreeing with John about something was really cutting-edge, pointed humor. Craig chose to bring up his professional qualifications, and once he did, there's basically no way to avoid saying that he appears to be completely unsuited for academic work.

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Scott, this is bizarre.

How so? Do you not think the editorial board of CI has selection criteria different from that of, say, Philosophy and Literature?

I remain astounded at the ways in which you (John and Scott), plus Rich, have so gone for Craig, in so personal ways, without either dealing with the substantive points of his reading, or offering your own reading.

I haven't gone after Craig personally. He made an issue of declaring that his eventual attainment of a degree means I should take him seriously. I responded by saying "No, not necessarily." As for how he nitpicks, well, that's easy:

Thus, the philosopher, the theorist and the phenomenologist are all equivalent.

Quite simply, they're not. They're hypotheses put forward at stages in Hunter's arguments. Craig calls equivalent what Hunter calls "a first iteration" in a series of developments. That is classic nitpicking in my book—or is there some better term for flattening someone's argument until the terms used to describe its stages become equivalent? Also, the fact that all this movement toward a definition occurred in the first five or so pages of the article should've keyed Craig into the fact that Hunter was, well, arguing.

Finally, the reason that I say Craig nitpicks is because nowhere in that post does he address Hunter's actual argument: namely, that theory is phenomenological transposition performed by a variety of people in a given historical moment for sound philosophical reasons.

His discussion of posture/attitude/personae misses the point entirely—as I tried to point out by pointing Craig at some of Hunter's other work, in particular the one mentioned in the footnote on page four. That work, The Philosopher in Early Modern Europe: The Nature of a Contested Identity, should've hinted to Craig that Hunter's interested in philosophical personae not because he thinks theorists adopt attitudes, but because he thinks such posturing is characteristic of philosophy since, well, at least the early modern period. The vocabulary isn't loaded in the context of Hunter's essay, a fact Craig would've known had he read it charitably instead of nitpicked his way through it.

In short, Craig hasn't read the essay. He's skimmed it for talking-points to throw at John and that's pretty much it. He made no attempt to understand it on its own terms—even going so far as to elide the argument in order to deride the person making it. So, for example, Craig rips the phrase "structuralism and post-structuralism, that is, theory" from its context at the tail-end of an argument in which he demonstrates (as opposed to Craig's implication that he asserts) how "the structuralist phase of the moment of theory was ghosted by its poststructuralist partner from the beginning and that the latter does not really supersede the former" (94-95). Not equivalent but related, philosophically, to the phenomenological foundation of theory—you know, Hunter's argument.

I'm sorry if I sound exasperated, but Craig produced a monument to Reading in Bad Faith. And now, unless someone else wants to read the actual article and discuss the arguments presented therein, I'm done.

[Rich Puchalsky]

"even going so far as to elide the argument"

No trolling for AK, Scott.

But APS is right about one thing -- I shouldn't be here. I had gotten interested in what Swifty and CR had to say in the Theory's Empire thread, and I shouldn't have hung around once I realized that this thread wasn't going to be similar. Sorry.

[Jon]

Craig chose to bring up his professional qualifications, and once he did, there's basically no way to avoid saying that he appears to be completely unsuited for academic work.

Rich, you poor man. So backed into a corner that you can find "no way to avoid" such insults.

It would be nice is people tried a little more actively to avoid the iron necessity that otherwise seems to take them along the same old petty lines of disagreement.

And I see Craig as trying to do this: in response to John's saying elswhere "you guys should read this Hunter article," Craig read the Hunter article, and produced a reading of it.

In response, you (John, Scott, Rich) have fixated on a question that Craig rather tentatively raised in what was by far the shortest of the five elements of that reading. Moreover, without examining his argument even there. (John asserts that Craig is uncharitable and personally flawed; Scott that the fact that Hunter's essay is published in Critical Inquiry trumps any reading; and Rich goes straight for the jugular.)

And again, for the record, I disagree with the point that Craig is making there: I don't think he has the evidence to show that Hunter is "insincere." (Though you know, I don't really see what it matters either which way.)

But I do think that the evidence he produces, though it doesn't lead to the conclusion that he suggests, is worth thinking about further. So I tried to think about it a little further.

And all this thanks in part to the fact that I don't feel so helplessly constrained only to say that Craig "appears to be completely unsuited for academic work."

"This is an attitude that is sceptical towards empirical experience (in a more or less Kantian way)"

Hmmm. So much for the tradition of Kantian empiricism, which has more than adequate support from the 1st critique (the understanding requires perceivable objects--whether phenomenal--i.e, based on empirical observation-- or "noumenal" for its conceptualizations--check it out, Einsteins, under Analytic of Principles)

..."Also towards a priori formalisms — which it regards as foreclosing a higher-level (“transcendental”) experience — and hence cultivates openness to breakthrough phenomena..""

O yeah breakthrough phenomena. Such as? Maybe some revealings ala Herr Heidegger.Don't ya go revealin'......

Even Miss Bipolar herself, Aunty Khrist, might find a bon mot in Kant........Kaunty Khrust.......Khruspy Krant

[Jon]

Do you not think the editorial board of CI has selection criteria different from that of, say, Philosophy and Literature?

I have no idea of your point unless it is, as you earlier suggested, that because the essay has been published in ("vetted" by) Critical Inquiry, then it must be OK. Which is bizarre.

For, if nothing else, Homer sometimes nods, after all. More importantly, I don't see reading a journal's masthead as a decent substitute for reading its articles.

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Jon:

have fixated on a question that Craig rather tentatively raised in what was by far the shortest of the five elements of that reading.

This point motivates all his other criticisms, hence my fixation on it. If you believe someone argues insincerely, you simply cannot produce a good account of their argument. You'll find the same holes anyone can find in any argument and claim they're emblematic of the problems you predisposed yourself to find.

Scott that the fact that Hunter's essay is published in Critical Inquiry trumps any reading

Not any reading. Nor did I attempt to trump his "argument," such that it was. But venue of publication should be a consideration of any article, esp. when said venue has the history of CI. An anti-theory hatchet job of the sort Craig suggests Hunter's wrote wouldn't appear in CI. You know that, I know that, and Craig should know that.

And I see Craig as trying to do this: in response to John's saying elswhere "you guys should read this Hunter article," Craig read the Hunter article, and produced a reading of it.

Craig produced a "reading" which didn't address the central argument, which led him to draw unsustainable conclusions about the article, which he communicated in condescending, outraged tones ... this doesn't strike me as a "reading" so much as an idiosyncratic combing of a text for words and phrases to be offended by.

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

More importantly, I don't see reading a journal's masthead as a decent substitute for reading its articles.

True enough. But not-reading the masthead and then not-reading the article is no better. May even be worse.

Hence, my complaint.

Also, I think in my second-to-latest post, I make clear why Craig's bad faith—and, with it, his discussion of Hunter's sincerity and his egregious lack of charity—matter: they all combined to overdetermine his reading.

Oh God. May it please stand, that latest comment, as a perfect monument.

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

To?

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Wait, I forgot. The Voice of Long Sunday revels in its intellectual cowardice—like a lonely sniper, babies strapped to chest, arms and head, firing at will ...

[JHillisKiller]

Hypocrisy, vain overinvestment in next to nothing, mean-spiritedness, unintentional self-parody? Those would be my guess, Scott.

(Hint: it's not Craig's reading that is overdetermined.)

[JHillisKiller]

Ian Hunter's article, "The History of Theory" (Critical Inquiry 33, 78-112 [pdf]), has come up in recent discussions as an alternative to the rather stagnant "'Theory' Wars" that seem to creep up every so often.

Some non-exhaustive comments/notes:

(1) His essay begins, "One of the most striking features of recent discussions of the moment of theory in the humanities is the lack of even proximate agreement what the object of such theory might be and about the language in which it has been or should be conducted" (78). He continues, "it is fruitless to begin a history of theory by trying to identify its common object or shared language" (80). All the same, Hunter proceeds throughout his essay to deflate a wide body of literature under the single, monolithic heading of 'theory' in order to tie his larger argument together. (Larger argument discussed below.) The deflation occurs through the construction of a rather strange chain of equivalences: "the contents of theory ... together with its cognates structuralism and post-structuralism" (80), "in the emergence of what would become known as deconstructive philosophy and, more generally, theory" (81), "the inseparability of structuralism and post-structuralism" (82), "a certain kind of philosopher or theorist" (85) and "the apprentice phenomenologist or theorist" (86). This chain combines and recombines throughout: 'philosopher and theorist' and 'phenomenologist or theorist,' on the oen hand, and 'deconstructive philosophy, that is, theory' and "structuralism and post-structuralism, that is, theory,' on the other. Thus, the philosopher, the theorist and the phenomenologist are all equivalent. Similarly, deconstructive philosophy, structuralism and post-structuralism are all the same, that is, 'theory.' On the one hand, a chain of "figures of thought" (95) and their "postures" (83). Hunter's avowal to avoid identifying the "object" and "language" of "theory" results in him calling nearly everything "theory." It seems, on this level, his project is a non-starter. If "theory" does not have a history (he constructs this counter-argument in parallel with Derrida's remarks on philosophy; but, then, why not begin with Althusser; viz, "ideology has no history"?) it isn't for the reasons he is arguing against or for the reasons his "opponents" suggest: it is because "theory" is an object that has resisted definition. (c.f., Nietzsche, of course, "only that which has no history can be defined.")

(2) To what extent is Hunter, qua historian of theory, willing to take the claims and arguments of those he is studying seriously. I can't help but wonder, especially insofar as he quickly drops his original term, "attitude," for another, "posture." For instance, "theory's posture of critique adopted in relation to so-called empiricist and positivist sciences" (83), "the posture of intellectual contempt for the sciences of facts" (87) and theory as a set of "veiled instructions" (96).

(3) The explicit and implicit uses of Foucault leave me a bit worried. The main thrust of his argument is that theory is an "attitude" (81), a "posture" (83; see point above for more references), a "figure of thought" and a "conception of history" (95), the "work of the self on the self" (96), "a particularly intense hermeneutics of the self" (98, 105), and a "persona" (104). The only reference throughout the paper on these concepts is to Foucault's lecture, "On The Beginning of the Hermeneutics of the Self," which discusses Greek and early Christian ethical practices. The problem here is that Hunter unproblematically lifts these concepts - without citation, attribution, or discussion - from a discussion of ancient ethics and "applies" them to the present. While it is certainly possible to construct an analytic of ethical practices, Hunter does no such thing, points to no such discussion elsewhere, and removes a particular argument from its context transforming it into a trans-historical "theory." While he implicitly structures his argument around Foucault's last works on ethics, he explicitly attacks Foucault's earlier archeaological works, without a discussion of the possibility of transformations in Foucault's own thought through his career. (For instance, why archaeology was displaced by genealogy which was displaced by ethics.) In addition to failing to elaborate upon his (re-)working of ethos, Hunter also fails to convincingly explain why this is the best way to proceed with a history of theory. Even if he is right that a focus upon language or object is prone to failure, this does not guarantee that his own approach is correct.

(4) The discussion of "literary theory" is preposterous, especially coming from a quasi-Foucauldian like himself. "When, in the 1970s, literary theory opened its campaign for control of Anglo-American English departments - for example, in works by Jonathan Culler, Eagleton, and Jameson - it did so through a particular delegitimizataion and reconstruction of the existing discipline, in this case various versions of the so-called New Criticism" (104). The first problem is the distinction between "literary theory" and "New Criticism" (as though New Criticism isn't already "literary theory") and the relation between "literary theory" (a term which only begins to appear at this point in his argument) and "theory" as such. But these problems are not particularly interesting. What is more interesting is the claim of a "campaign," which is signalled by three cited texts; Culler's Structuralist Poetics (1975), Eagleton's Criticism and Ideology (1978) and Jameson's Marxism and Form (1971). For a campaign, the opening salvo is quite dispersed over time (a period of seven years stretching from the early to the late seventies), leaving one to wonder how co-ordinated it was in the first place; i.e., the extent to which it was a "campaign" which already suggests the previous existence of an intentional, defined programme with specific objectives. In other words, it presupposes the existence of not only a "strategy," but also a "strategist." There's little indication that such a strategy or strategist existed. And, if there was, Hunter makes no reference to it - except, of course, three books published a number of years apart, two of which were "Marxist" and one of which was "structuralist." Worse for his argument is that he suggests that campaign was buttressed by the "prestigious persona of the theorist" (104). But how could the "persona of the theorist" be "prestigious" if it had not yet laid claim to dominance within the discipline? If a campaign was launched, it was to gain control of the discipline and, thus, enact a redistribution of awards and statuses. The objective of the campaign - i.e., statuses - cannot be a weapon on the part of the challenger; a challenger attacking the already existing status of the ("so-called") New Criticism. Further, is there possibly any conflict between the explanation of theory as ethic and theory as campaign for control?

(5) Finally, the discussion of social theory - something I had looked forward to being a "social theorist" myself - was not only disappointing, but wrong. The reason that Hunter is wrong is that he ignores the larger context of sociology - the discipline in which social theory is practiced - in the sixties and seventies. His argument is as though Habermas just appears. First, he claims that Habermas presents the introduction of phenomenology into sociology. This is not the case at all. Sociological theory (i.e., Parsonian structural-functionalism) was already under attack from within sociology by Parsons' own students, specifically the ethnomethodology of Garfinkle based upon Schutz's social phenomenology. For Garfinkle, the attempt to was to re-direct sociology from the "macro" to the "micro" - a programme rapidly followed up, in different ways, by people such as Goffman and Geertz. Indeed, the phenomenological movement within sociology was already so pronounced prior to Habermas' intervention that Habermas was able to attempt a synthesis of Parsonian macro-sociology and Garfinkle-ian micro-sociology. The issue, then, is one that Hunter signals earlier in his essay ("Our argument, though, is that this reworking took place not through the virtual relations of the episteme but as a series of concrete intellectual struggles" (103), but which also disappears at its most manifest moment; viz., the attempt for any discourse seeking to pass through the threshold of scientificity to transcend its essential lack of foundations (something Hunter notes earlier, "do battle for the privilege of foundational status" (79)). While he is correct to see Habermas as an intervention into the issue of foundations and to see Habermas as proposing a "social theory" solution to the problem. (Although not explicitly thematized as such.) He nonetheless misses the relevant dispute between sociological theory (or, in Parsonian language, "a general theory of society") and social theory (that is, the introduction of interpretative, symbolic and cultural concerns into sociology that had been displaced by macro-structural concerns of integration).

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Hint: it's not Craig's reading that is overdetermined.

Did you read the article in question? Do you understand how Craig's "reading" relates to Hunter's argument? Or are you—wait a minute: you're just stirring the pot now, aren't you?

[jholbo]

Well, I'm sorry that this comment thread has sort of gone to hell. I was genuinely hoping it wouldn't, because it might have been interesting. I'll try to post myself later and explain what I think is good about the Hunter. I do think there are faults with the piece, mind you. And Craig makes points that deserve address. But it doesn't seem to me that Craig's post itself is very helpful because it is, in effect, not just an argument against Hunter but, by implication, a strong proof of the impossibility of intellectual history. That is, if Craig's attitude is an acceptable one, it is clear that intellectual history is simply impossible to write. I take that consequence to be a pretty strong reductio on the post itself. And it isn't really possible to argue a detail here, a detail there, against a background implication that the whole project is impossible - intellectual history, that is. Craig isn't willing to say: I was setting the bar too high. Let's lower it to (what seems to me) a reasonable level. (Please note. This isn't the same as demanding Craig to back off and withdraw all his more specific criticisms.)

In case anyone says: but how is Craig denying the possibility of intellectual history? The answer is: if it is appropriate to adopt the level of hermeneutic suspicion that Craig adopts in the post, it will be a trivial exercise to show that any given work is unserious and should be suspected of insincerity. I don't think that's helpful.

[rob]

Wow. If you all thought Craig's reading is exemplary of bad faith, then don't go looking at the comment I made on his theoria blog!

[Kenneth Rufo]

Hmm, what to add to this illuminating exchange?

Every station playing
the same tune.

I watched him
listening to white noise.

It was a perfect spring day.
I didn't bother to think

how strange it was
or that maybe he had it right,

all those voices
talking over each other

and the sense of it
held so lightly,

just a turn of the dial
this way or that.

(Michael Brennan, "Postcard", The Imageless World)

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

Sadly, had Craig attended to Hunter's argument, I think this could've been a productive conversation. (shrugs) I suppose such things are impossible now.

[Craig]

The Charity Wars: An Interim Tally

An interim tally collected while I caught on comments I missed this afternoon (I was at the vet finding out if the tumour in my cats mouth was going to kill him - readership will understand why I have nothing of substance to say at this point):

"The question of Hunter's sincerity must be raised." [The question that set everyone off.]

Craig on Scott Eric Kaufman:
"If there is a problem of charity, Scott, it is that you aren't willing to question your superiors (Holbo, Hunter, or whatever). That is, you aren't being "charitable" to Hunter, but, rather, "blindly obedient.""

John Holbo on Craig:
"It seems to me you are employing an unhelpful double-standard. A combination of a personal tendency to be highly and personally insulting and dismissive of intellectual projects you suspect you will disagree with - combined with a hypersensitivity to any perceived sleight to those you think you might favor, plus insistence on making a big deal of such perceived sleights - is bound to lead to trouble. You can't BOTH be rude to others AND hypersensitive to any perceived rudeness. EITHER you should become more tolerant of being on the receiving end of sharp elbows OR you should soften you own."

Rich Puchalsky on Craig:
(1) "I guess I can sort of imagine Craig at work in his specialty. "No, I must disagree with my colleague. His thesis can't be supported because he's insincere in his studies; although it looks like he's devoted years to this work, it was all motivated by prejudice, and can be ignored." No, I guess that I can't really imagine Craig at work."
(2) "when someone is arguing like a 16 year old, there isn't really anything to do but shrug and say that they're arguing like a 16 year old." [Note: one wonders what Puchalsky is doing arguing with sixteen year olds to such an extent that he immediately recognizes their style!]
(3) "Craig chose to bring up his professional qualifications, and once he did, there's basically no way to avoid saying that he appears to be completely unsuited for academic work."

Scott Eric Kaufman on Craig:
(1) "The fact of the matter is, Craig just seems to be a poor reader, even of his own words."
(2) "You asked whether I thought you were a professional, to which I'll answer here: "No, not yet." You don't seem ready to write a dissertation yet because you don't attack the strong form of other people's arguments. I second what John wrote, not because I'm unwilling to challenge him—because if you'd paid attention, you'd have notice that he and I favor different attitudes, nay, postures toward theory—but because it speaks to your inability to consider seriously the arguments of those with whom you're inclined to disagree."
(3) "I haven't gone after Craig personally."
(4) "In short, Craig hasn't read the essay."
(5) "I'm sorry if I sound exasperated, but Craig produced a monument to Reading in Bad Faith. And now, unless someone else wants to read the actual article and discuss the arguments presented therein, I'm done."
(6) "Craig produced a "reading" which didn't address the central argument, which led him to draw unsustainable conclusions about the article, which he communicated in condescending, outraged tones ... this doesn't strike me as a "reading" so much as an idiosyncratic combing of a text for words and phrases to be offended by." [Apparently not done afterall.]
(7) "I think in my second-to-latest post, I make clear why Craig's bad faith—and, with it, his discussion of Hunter's sincerity and his egregious lack of charity—matter: they all combined to overdetermine his reading."
(8) "Sadly, had Craig attended to Hunter's argument, I think this could've been a productive conversation. (shrugs) I suppose such things are impossible now."

Scott Eric Kaufman on ???:
"The Voice of Long Sunday revels in its intellectual cowardice—like a lonely sniper, babies strapped to chest, arms and head, firing at will ..."

I'll note that Jon is the only one who remained civil. (I'll withhold judgment on my own comportment.) People might want to ponder why women - c.f., SEK's recent questioning on his own blog - rarely participate in these "discussions."

[Scott Eric Kaufman]

You know that I'm probably the most sympathetic cat-tragedy audience you could wish for, so I feel for you, I really do, and I don't want that to be confused with my criticisms. On a cat-owner-to-cat-owner level, you have my utmost sympathy.

But your "Charity Wars" falls prey to the same logic as your initial post. (Not to mention that wicked nasty essentialism. I take it you don't read feminist or WOC blogs, which have hosted this past month debates far nastier than have ever happened here or like environs.)

The problem is you like to construct scenarios which flatter you, as you did in the comment above. Thing is, self-flattery gets you nowhere. For one, you quote a hell of a lot of what I wrote, but neglect to mention that I pointed out Hunter's central argument. Omissions like that lead to accusations of bad faith and nitpicking. I don't know how else to say this other than "attack the strong form." That's what'll land you the job you've already laid claim to. Anyone can read an article and find fifteen things to complain about; not everyone can address the whole of the argument. This is one of those crucial distinctions, the ones that determine whether you'll have a career or a string of appointments. Yes, I say this as part of a polemic—but as you well know, I'm not trying to undermine the foundations of your work, since it shares so many with my own. All this adversarial nonsense aside, you're just making bad faith readings, and it's better you hear this in on a comment on a blog than during your orals or a committee meeting.

That said, you can't mock me for being finished with something at 8 a.m. but not at 11 a.m. These arguments warp and woof like any fine weaving, with the intervening hours occupied by, you know, actual work.

[Swifty]

One of Hunter's first observations is that there is debate over the meaning of theory. I think this is a valuable starting point. Hunter writes:

"For Terry Eagleton the object of theory is culture – understood as the dialectical moment in which the making of meaning encounters its own social determination – and its language is a version of Marxian social theory, to which Eagleton has recently added some Aristotelian ballast. For Robert Pippin, though, theory's object is the conditions of knowledge as first posed by Kant and then taken up in other disciplines, while the language of theory is that of the post-Kantian critical philosophy."

Would we want to say that 'theory' goes back to Kant, as Pippin suggests?

On the next page, Hunter characterizes Derrida's contribution to critique (just after mentioning Habermas's ideal speech situation): "For Derrida (as we shall see below)," writes Hunter, "what matters is différance, understood as the liquefaction of formalized meanings and structures, carried out in Derrida's improvisation on the discourse of transcendental phenomenology."

My first question is: what is the relation between Kant's critique and Derrida's notion of différance? Is there a straight line connecting the critique of reason's capacity to represent objects, the compromise between idealism and realism that characterizes Kant's philosophy and Derrida's discovery (or assertion), typical of deconstruction and postmodernism, that finds a non-origin, a difference, a this that isn't quite yet that, at the origin of so-called origins? What would it look like if we considered the idea that Derrida is continuing the Kantian critique of the limits and capacities of reason? Acknowledgment: I draw this question in part from Irene E. Harvey's _Derrida and the Economy of Différance_, 1986. She writes:

"[T]he Kantian affiliations of Derrida's position(s) cannot be rejected so easily. Kant's notion of critique as his strategy for revealing the conditions of the possibility, the origins, and hence the limits of metaphysics is certainly, if not the model, a predecessor for Derrida's notion of deconstruction. The problems initiated by the 'unbounded use of our Reason' are also a mutual concern of these two thinkers . . . . Yet, despite the overlap of the notion that 'from the moment that there is meaning we have nothing but signs' for Derrida and 'representations' or 'appearances' for Kant, we cannot conclude that this in fact means the same thing."

Finally, what do we make of Hunter's claim that Derridean deconstruction means the "liquefaction of formalized meanings and structures"?

[jholbo]

Craig: "I'll note that Jon is the only one who remained civil."

If it's any consolation, I think Jon reporting on his dropped jaw (which implied that Scott and I were saying stupid stuff) is at least as rude as me pretending to be Miss Manners. Your mileage may vary.

I say: Hunter is exactly right to go back to Kant (and to do so in the company of Pippin). Going back before Kant is too far. Theory is post-Kantian philosophy and is always inflected with Kantian themes. When it departs from Kant, it does so strenuously, which is just another way of being Kantian (if you see what I mean.) This is quite crucial and is one of reasons why the project is interesting: Theory is a mostly Anglo-American repetition of various mostly French repetitions of mostly German, post-Kantian Romantic themes. The basic pattern doesn't exist before the Germans develop a certain (ahem) attitude. An adversarial-respectful (ahem) posture towards Kant, plus some counter-Enlightenment (er) attitudes and a kind of poetic (pardon my French) posture. And then it keeps showing up again and again. Husserl and Heidegger. And the latest version is 'the moment of Theory'. And that's why the question is interesting. And that's what's wrong with the Norton Anthology of Theory and Criticism (incidentally). It tries to make out that Theory should be everything 'critical' or philosophical going back to Plato and beyond. When really Theory is no older than around the turn of the 19th Century. (Not that you can't talk about older stuff and find connections. But you need to acknowledge that it mostly starts with Kant - or rather, post-Kant.)

Sorry about your cat, Craig.