Date post: | 21-Oct-2015 |
Category: |
Documents |
Upload: | hermes-veras |
View: | 76 times |
Download: | 1 times |
1
The Politics of Ontology
by Martin Holbraad and Morten Axel Pedersen
PUBLISHED ON
January 13, 2014
CITE AS
Holbraad, Martin and Pedersen, Morten Axel. "The Politics of Ontology." Fieldsights - Theorizing the
Contemporary, Cultural Anthropology Online, January 13, 2014, http://culanth.org/fieldsights/461-
the-politics-of-ontology
Much energy has been devoted over the last decade to the so-called ontological
turn in the social sciences, and in anthropology in particular. A number of
statements, critiques, and discussions of this position are now available (e.g.,
Viveiros de Castro 2002; Henare et al. 2007; Jensen and Rödje 2010; Pedersen
2011; Holbraad 2012; Ishii 2012; Candea and Alcayna-Stevens 2012; Blaser
2013; Paleček and Risjord 2013; Scott 2013), and its implications for
anthropological research are being concertedly explored and passionately
debated (e.g., Venkatesan et al. 2009; Alberti et al. 2011; Viveiros de Castro
2011; Laidlaw 2012; Ramos 2012; Pedersen 2012; Strathern 2012). The
following set of position papers represent contributions to a well-attended
roundtable discussion held at the 2013 annual meeting of the American
Anthropological in Chicago. The purpose of the roundtable was to explore the
theoretical positions and methodological projects pursued under the banner of
ontology, focusing particularly on the political implications of the “turn,”
including its potential pitfalls.
The participants were invited to address such questions as, Why have social
scientists turned to the concept of ontology in the ways that they have? Why is
the move as controversial as it is proving itself to be, at least among
anthropologists? What explicit and implicit political projects does the turn to
ontology (as well as various critiques of it) evince? Does the ontological turn
open up new forms of cultural critique and progressive politics, or does it
2
represent a “closet-culturalist” and potentially dangerous rehearsal of past
essentialisms? What, in short, does the ethnographic commitment to ontology
“do”—for our engagements and collaborations with the people with whom we
work, and for anthropology’s role within the global intellectual and political
landscape at large?
To instigate the discussion, the session’s organizers, Martin Holbraad and
Morten Axel Pedersen, joined Eduardo Viveiros de Castro, who also contributed
to organizing and chairing the session, to write a position paper addressing
these questions. The paper was distributed to the participants in advance (and
in hard copy to members of the audience on the day of the discussion) as a
concise and synthetic statement of the three authors’ position on the politics of
the ontological turn. Inevitably, as is the way of jointly authored papers (and
making full virtue of the necessary brevity of the genre), the position is “more
than one and less than many.” Remaining faithful to the spirit of a roundtable
discussion, the participants’ subsequent statements are reproduced here more
or less as they were presented in Chicago, with the addition of similarly brief
statements by Marisol de la Cadena, Matei Candea, and Annemarie Mol, who
were unable to participate. Some participants chose to respond directly to the
organizers’ position paper, while others refer to it only obliquely or not at all. In
what follows, the statements appear in the order in which they were presented
in Chicago, with the three further contributions added at the end, in
alphabetical order.
The table of contents for the statements appears below.
References
Alberti, Benjamin, Severin Fowles, Martin Holbraad, Yvonne Marshall, and
Christopher Witmore. 2011. “‘Worlds Otherwise’: Archaeology, Anthropology,
and Ontological Difference.” Current Anthropology 52, no. 6: 896–912.
Blaser, Mario. 2013. “Ontological Conflicts and the Stories of Peoples in Spite of
Europe: Toward a Conversation on Political Ontology.” Current
Anthropology 54, no. 5: 547–68.
Candea, Matei, and Lys Alcayna-Stevens. 2012. “Internal Others: Ethnographies of
Naturalism.” Cambridge Anthropology 30, no. 2: 36–47.
3
Henare, Amiria, Martin Holbraad, and Sari Wastell, 2007. Thinking Through Things:
Theorising Artefacts Ethnographically. London: Routledge.
Holbraad, Martin. 2012. Truth in Motion: The Recursive Anthropology of Cuban
Divination. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Ishii, Miho. 2012. “Acting with Things: Self-Poiesis, Actuality, and Contingency in the
Formation of Divine Worlds.” HAU: Journal of Ethnographic Theory 2, no. 2:
371–88.
Jensen, Casper Bruun, and Kjetil Rödje, eds. 2009. Deleuzian Intersections in Science,
Technology and Anthropology. Oxford: Berghahn.
Laidlaw, James. 2012. “Ontologically Challenged.” Anthropology of This Century, no.
4.
Paleček, Martin, and Mark Risjord. 2013. “Relativism and the Ontological Turn within
Anthropology.” Philosophy of the Social Sciences 43(1): 3-23.
Pedersen, Morten Axel. 2011. Not Quite Shamans. Spirit Worlds and Political Lives in
Northern Mongolia. Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press.
Pedersen, Morten Axel. 2012. “Common Nonsense: A Review of Certain Recent
Reviews of the ‘Ontological Turn.’” Anthropology of This Century, no. 5.
Ramos, Alcida R. 2012. “The Politics of Perspectivism.” Annual Review of
Anthropology41:481–94.
Scott, Michael W. 2013. “The Anthropology of Ontology (Religious Science?).” Journal
of the Royal Anthropological Institute 19, no. 4: 859–72.
Strathern, Marilyn. 2012. “A Comment on ‘the Ontological Turn’ in Japanese
Anthropology.” HAU: Journal of Ethnographic Theory 2, no. 2: 402–5.
Venkatesan, Soumhya, Michael Carrithers, Karen Sykes, Matei Candea, and Martin
Holbraad. 2010. “Ontology is Just Another Word for Culture: Motion Tabled at
the 2008 Meeting of the Group for Debates in Anthropological Theory, University
of Manchester.”Critique of Anthropology 30, no. 2: 152–200.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2011. “Zeno and the Art of Anthropology: Of Lies, Beliefs,
Paradoxes, and Other Truths.” Common Knowledge 17, no. 1: 128–45.
Image credit: "Indra's Net," www.aethericnumerics.com/.
4
Posts in This Series
The Politics of Ontology: Anthropological Positions p. 5
by Martin Holbraad, Morten Axel Pedersen and Eduardo Viveiros de Castro
What an Ontological Anthropology Might Mean p. 12
by Eduardo Kohn
Anthropological Metaphysics / Philosophical Resistance p. 15
by Peter Skafish
Geontologies of the Otherwise p. 19
by Elizabeth A. Povinelli
Critical Anthropology as a Permanent State of First Contact p. 22
by Ghassan Hage
The Political Ontology of Doing Difference . . . and Sameness p. 25
by Mario Blaser
Practical Ontologies p. 28
by Casper Bruun Jensen
Equal Time for Entities p. 32
by Michael W. Scott
Anthropology as Ontology is Comparison as Ontology p. 35
by Helen Verran
Onto-Methodology p. 38
by Tony Crook
Archaeology, Risk, and the Alter-Politics of Materiality p. 41
by Benjamin Alberti
The Ontology of the Political Turn p. 45
by Matei Candea
The Politics of Modern Politics Meets Ethnographies of Excess
Through Ontological Openings p. 49
by Marisol de la Cadena
Other Words: Stories from the Social Studies of Science, Technology, and Medicine p. 53
by Annemarie Mol
5
The Politics of Ontology: Anthropological
Positions
by Martin Holbraad, Morten Axel Pedersen and Eduardo Viveiros de
Castro
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
At first blush, “ontology” and “politics” make strange bedfellows. Ontology
evokes essence, while politics, as modern, democratic, multiculturalist citizens
tend to understand it, is about debunking essences and affirming in their stead
the world-making capacities of human collectives. Yet this notion of a social
construction of reality itself instantiates a particular ontology, and a powerful
one at that—and here we also mean politically powerful. Still, as anthropologists
we are attuned to the “powers of the weak”—to the many complex connections,
some of them crucially negative, between power differences (politics) and the
powers of difference (ontology).
For purposes of discussion, then, we begin with a broad distinction between
three different manners in which ontology and politics are correlated in the
social sciences and cognate disciplines, each associated with particular
methodological prescriptions, analytical injunctions, and moral visions: (1) the
traditional philosophical concept of ontology, in which “politics” takes the
implicit form of an injunction to discover and disseminate a single absolute
truth about how things are; (2) the sociological critique of this and other
“essentialisms,” which, in skeptically debunking all ontological projects to reveal
their insidiously political nature, ends up affirming the critical politics of
debunking as its own version of how things should be; and (3) the
anthropological concept of ontology as the multiplicity of forms of existence
enacted in concrete practices, where politics becomes the non-skeptical
elicitation of this manifold of potentials for how things could be—what
Elizabeth Povinelli (2012b), as we understand her, calls “the otherwise.”
How might “the otherwise” be rendered manifest ethnographically? Here, we
need to remind ourselves that ethnographic descriptions, like all cultural
translations, necessarily involve an element of transformation or even
disfiguration. A given anthropological analysis, that is, amounts to a “controlled
6
equivocation” (Viveiros de Castro 2004) that, far from transparently mapping
one discrete social order or cultural whole onto another, depends on more or
less deliberate and reflexive “productive misunderstandings” (Tsing 2005) to
perform its translations and comparisons, not just between different contexts,
realms, and scales, but also within them. This, if anything, is what distinguishes
the ontological turn from other methodological and theoretical orientations: not
the dubious assumption that it enables one to take people and things “more
seriously” than others are able or willing to,[1] but the ambition, and ideally the
ability, to pass through what we study, rather as when an artist elicits a new
form from the affordances her material allows her to set free, releasing shapes
and forces that offer access to what may be called the dark side of things.
Accordingly, while the ontological turn in anthropology has made the study of
ethnographic difference or “alterity” one of its trademarks, it is really less
interested in differences between things than within them: the politics of
ontology is the question of how persons and things could alter from themselves
(Holbraad and Pedersen 2009; Pedersen 2012b). Ontology, as far as
anthropology in our understanding is concerned, is the comparative,
ethnographically-grounded transcendental deduction of Being (the oxymoron is
deliberate) as that which differs from itself (ditto)—being-as-other as immanent
to being-as-such. The anthropology of ontology is anthropology as ontology; not
the comparison of ontologies, but comparison as ontology.
This, in our understanding, is what the ontological turn is all about: it is a
technology of description (Pedersen 2012a) designed in the optimist (non-
skeptical) hope of making the otherwise visible by experimenting with the
conceptual affordances (Holbraad, forthcoming) present in a given body of
ethnographic materials. We stress that such material can be drawn from
anywhere, anytime, and anyone; there is no limit to what practices, discourses,
and artifacts are amenable to ontological analysis. Indeed, articulating “what
could be” in this way implies a peculiarly non- or anti-normative stance, which
has profoundly political implications in several senses.
For a start, to subjunctively present alternatives to declarations about what “is”
or imperatives about what “should be” is itself a political act—a radical one, to
the degree that it breaks free of the glib relativism of merely reporting on
7
alternative possibilities (“worldviews,” etc.), and proceeds boldly to lend the
“otherwise” full ontological weight so as to render it viable as a real alternative.
For example, the relativist reports that in such-and-such an ethnographic
context time is “cyclical,” with “the past ever returning to become the present.”
It is an evocative idea, to be sure. But strictly speaking, it makes no sense.
To be “past” is precisely not “to return to the present,” so a past that does so is
properly speaking not a past at all (in the same sense that a married bachelor is
not a bachelor). By contrast, like a kind of “relativist-turbo,” the ontologically-
inclined anthropologist takes this form of e(qui)vocation as a starting-point for
an ethnographically-controlled experiment with the concept of time itself,
reconceptualizing “past,” “present,” “being,” etc., in ways that make “cyclical
time” a real form of existence. In this subjunctive, “could be” experiment, the
emphasis is as much on “be” as on “could”: “Imagine a cyclical time!” marvels
the relativist; “Yes, and here is what it could be!” replies the ontological
anthropologist.
Furthermore, when such “ontographic” (Holbraad 2012) experimentations are
precipitated by ethnographic exposures to people whose own lives are, in one
way or other, pitted against the reigning hegemonic orders (state, empire, and
market, in their ever-volatile and violent comingling), then the politics of
ontology resonates at its core with the politics of the peoples who occasion it. In
such a case, the politics of ontologically-inclined anthropological analysis is not
merely logically contingent upon, but internally constituted by and morally
imbricated with, the political dynamics in which the people anthropologists
study are embroiled, including the political stances those people might
themselves take, not least on the question of what politics itself “could be.”
Indeed, one of the most oft-quoted (and criticized) mottoes of the ontological
turn in anthropology is the notorious, “Anthropology is the science of the
ontological self-determination of the world’s peoples,” and its corollary, to wit,
that the discipline’s mission is to promote the “permanent decolonization of
thought” (Viveiros de Castro 2009; for an earlier version of the argument, see
Viveiros de Castro 2013 [2002]). In this connection, the first (unproductive)
misunderstanding that should be dispelled is the idea that this is equivalent to
fighting for indigenous peoples’ rights in the face of the world powers. One does
8
not need much anthropology to join the struggle against the political
domination and economic exploitation of indigenous peoples across the world.
It should be enough to be a tolerably informed and reasonably decent person.
Conversely, no amount of anthropological relativism and old-hand professional
skepticism can serve as an excuse fornot joining that struggle.
Second, the idea of an ontological self-determination of peoples should not be
confused with supporting ethnic essentialization, Blut und
Boden primordialism, and other forms of sociocultural realism. It means giving
the ontological back to “the people,” not the people back to “the ontological.”
The politics of ontology as self-determination of the other is the ontology of
politics as decolonization of all thought in the face of other thought—to think of
thought itself as “always-already” in relation to the thought of others.
Third, the idea of the self-determination of the other means that a fundamental
principle of anthropologists’ epistemological ethics should be, always leave a
way out for the people you are describing. Do not explain too much, do not try
to actualize the possibilities immanent to others’ thought, but endeavor to
sustain them as possible indefinitely (this is what “permanent” means in the
phrase, “permanent decolonization of thought”), neither dismissing them as the
fantasies of others, nor by fantasizing that they may gain the same reality for
oneself. They will not. Not “as such,” at least; only as-other. The self-
determination of the other is the other-determination of the self.
This brings us to a final point regarding the political promise held by
ontologically-oriented approaches in anthropology and cognate disciplines;
namely, that this promise can be conceived, not just in relation to the degree to
which such approaches are in affinity with (or even actively promote) particular
political objectives, or with the abiding need for a critique of the state and the
turns of thought that underpin it, but also in relation to their capacity to enact a
form of politics that is entailed in their very operation. Conceived of in this
manner, the ontological turn is not so much a means to externally-defined
political ends, but a political end in its own right. Recapitulating, to some
extent, standing debates about the political efficacies of intellectual life (e.g. th,e
ambivalent stance of Marxist intelligentsias to Communist Parties’ calls to
political militancy in the 20th century—Adorno, Sartre, Magritte, etc.), the
9
question is whether ontologically-oriented analyses render political the very
form of thinking that they involve, such that “being political” becomes an
immanent property of the mode of anthropological thought itself. If so, then the
politics of ontography resides not only in the ways in which it may help promote
certain futures, but also in the way that it “figurates” the future (Krøijer
forthcoming) in its very enactment.
The major premise of such an argument might border on a cogito-like
apodeicticity (sensu Husserl): to think is to differ. Here, a thought that makes
no difference to itself is not a thought: thoughts take the form of motions from
one “position” to another, so if no such movement takes place then no thought
has taken place either. Note that this is not an ontological credo (e.g., compare
with Levi Bryant’s recent [2011] “ontic principle,” which is pretty similar, but
cast in the philosophical key of metaphysical claim-making). Rather, it is offered
as a statement of the logical form of thinking—a phenomenology in Simon
Critchley’s (2012, 55) sense that is, moreover, apodeictic insofar as it
instantiates itself in its own utterance. The minor premise, then, would be the
(more moot) idea that to differ is itself a political act. This would require us to
accept that such non-controversially “political” notions as power, domination,
or authority are relative stances towards the possibility of difference and its
control. To put it very directly (crudely, to be sure), domination is a matter of
holding the capacity to differ under control—to place limits upon alterity and
therefore, ipso facto (viz., by internal implication from the to-think-is-to-differ
premise above) upon thought also.
If these two premises are accepted, then a certain kind of politics becomes
immanent to the ontological turn. For if it is correct to say that the ontological
turn “turns,” precisely, on transmuting ethnographic exposures recursively into
forms of conceptual creativity and experimentation, then ontologically-inflected
anthropology is abidingly oriented towards the production of difference, or
“alterity,” as such. Regardless (at this level of analysis) of the political goals to
which it may lend itself, anthropology is ontologically politicalinasmuch as its
operation presupposes, and is an attempt experimentally to “do,” difference as
such. This is an anthropology that is constitutively anti-authoritarian, making it
its business to generate alternative vantages from which established forms of
10
thinking are put under relentless pressure by alterity itself, and perhaps
changed. One could even call this intellectual endeavor revolutionary, if by that
we mean a revolution that is “permanent” in the sense we proposed above: the
politics of indefinitely sustaining the possible, the “could be.”
Notes
[1] Although one could somewhat uncontroversially argue that to take other
ontologies seriously is precisely to draw the political implications of how things
could be for “us,” given how things are for those “others” who take these other
ontologies seriously as a matter of fact.
References
Alberti, Benjamin, and Yvonne Marshall. 2009. “Animating Archaeology: Local
Theories and Conceptually Open-Ended Methodologies.” Cambridge
Archaeological Journal 19, no. 3: 344–56.
Bryant, Levi R. 2011. The Democracy of Objects. Ann Arbor, Mich.: Open Humanities
Press.
Candea, Matei. “‘Our division of the universe’: Making a Space for the Non-Political in
the Anthropology of Politics.” Current Anthropology 52, no. 3: 309–34.
Critchley, Simon. 2012. Infinitely Demanding: Ethics of Commitment, Politics of
Resistance. London: Verso.
Crook, Tony. 2007. Anthropological Knowledge, Secrecy and Bolivip, Papua New
Guinea: Exchanging Skin. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Descola, Philippe. 2013. Beyond Nature and Culture. Translated by Janet Lloyd.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Hage, Ghassan. 2012. “Critical Anthropological Thought and the Radical Political
Imaginary Today.” Critique of Anthropology 32, no. 3: 285–308.
Holbraad, Martin. 2012. Truth in Motion: The Recursive Anthropology of Cuban
Divination. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Holbraad, Martin. 2013. “Revolución o muerte: Self-Sacrifice and the Ontology of
Cuban Revolution.” Ethnos.
Holbraad, Martin. Forthcoming. “Can the Thing Speak? Anthropology, Pragmatology,
and the Conceptual Affordances of Things.” Under review for Current
Anthropology.
11
Holbraad, Martin, and Morten Axel Pedersen. 2009. “Planet M : The Intense
Abstraction of Marilyn Strathern.” Anthropological Theory 9, no. 4: 371–94.
Kohn, Eduardo. 2013. How Forests Thinks. Toward an Anthropology Beyond the
Human. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Krøijer, Stine. Forthcoming. Figurations of the Future: Forms and Temporality of Left
Radical Politics in Northern Europe. Oxford: Berghahn.
Mol, Annemarie. 2003. The Body Multiple: Ontology in Medical Practice. Durham,
N.C.: Duke University Press.
Pedersen, Morten Axel. 2012a. “Common Nonsense: A Review of Certain Recent
Reviews of the ‘Ontological Turn.’” Anthropology of This Century, 5.
Pedersen, Morten Axel. 2012b. “The Task of Anthropology is to Invent Relations: For
the Motion.” Critique of Anthropology 32, no. 1: 59–65.
Povinelli, Elizabeth. A. 2012a. Economies of Abandonment: Social Belonging and
Endurance in Late Liberalism. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press.
Povinelli, Elizabeth. A. 2012b. “The Will to be Otherwise / The Effort of
Endurance.” South Atlantic Quarterly 111, no. 3: 453–57.
Scott, Michael W. 2007. The Severed Snake: Matrilineages, Making Place, and a
Melanesian Christianity in Southeast Solomon Islands. Durham N.C.: Carolina
Academic Press.
Tsing, Anna L. 2005. Friction: An Ethnography of Global Connection. Princeton, N.J.:
Princeton University Press.
Verran, Helen. 2001. Science and an African Logic. Chicago: University of Chicago
Press.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2003. “And.” Manchester Papers in Social Anthropology.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2004. “Perspectival Anthropology and the Method of
Controlled Equivocation.” Tipití: Journal of the Society for the Anthropology of
Lowland South America 2, no. 1: 3–22.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2009. Métaphysiques cannibales. Paris: Presses
Universitaires de France.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2013. “The Relative Native.” Translated by Julia Sauma
and Martin Holbraad. HAU: Journal of Ethnographic Theory 3, no. 3: 473–502.
First published in 2002.
12
What an Ontological Anthropology Might
Mean
by Eduardo Kohn
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
Ontological anthropology seeks to open us to other kinds of realities beyond us.
What are the stakes? Doing anthropology ontologically addresses this political
question by reconfiguring both what the ends of such a practice might be as well
as the means by which we could achieve them.
All good anthropology has always been ontological in that it opens us to other
kinds of realities. And it has also always been political. We undertake such an
exploration for a reason—it is part of a critical ethical practice. But the kind of
reality that anthropology has been so good at exploring has been restricted to
one—that which is socially constructed. This, of course, is a real real, and we can
tap its transformative potential. The problem is that it is a kind of reality that
can make us blind to other kinds of realities and it is a kind of reality that, on
this planet at least, is distinctively human. What is more, the political problems
we face today in the Anthropocene can no longer be understood only in human
terms. This ontological fact demands another kind of ethical practice.
These observations put me somewhat at odds with the three takes on ontology
laid out in the position paper by Holbraad, Pedersen, and Viveiros de Castro.
These are: (1) ontology as the search for essential truth—how things
are (characterized as bad); (2) anthropology as the critique of all such possible
essences—how things should be (also bad, because it relies on an unexamined
ontology—social construction); and (3) ontological anthropology as the
exploration and potential realization of other reals—how things could be,
otherwise(good).
Note that Ontology1 is a lot like Nature and Ontology2 a lot like Culture. Now,
I’ll be bad: What is the Ontology1 of Ontology2? What is the Nature of Culture?
I think we can and need to be quite formally precise about what this is: Culture
is that contingent system, wherever it is found (or wherever we project it), in
which relata are co-produced by virtue of their relationships to an emergent
13
system of other such relata. But what is the Nature of Nature? This is much
more complicated. My concern is that when we discard this monolithic Nature,
we actually, in this rejection, stabilize it. Nature for me would include all sorts of
not-necessarily human dynamics and entities that are quite difficult to
essentialize—like the reality beyond humans of generals and constitutive
absences; the generative logics of form; nonhuman modes of thought, which
involve relational logics that do not work like culture or language; nonhuman
kinds of value, telos, and selves; souls, and even spirits. These can, if we let
them, emerge through ethnographic—or, following Holbraad et al.—
“ontographic” engagement. I would say that they are real (Ontology1) but this is
suggested to me by the ways their properties have come to work their ways
through me in ways that remake me.
I take Eduardo Viveiros de Castro’s (2009) call for the “permanent
decolonization of thought” seriously, but what colonizes our thinking is
language, or more specifically a form of thinking that is (on this planet) specific
to humans. This is a mode of thinking that involves, technically speaking,
symbolic reference, which is what produces things like social construction as
well as the conceptual difficulty we have in relating to and harnessing what lies
beyond social construction.
The problem is that we cannot do this sort of decolonization by just thinking
about it, or thinking with other humans—the “Alters”—about it, because this
only recolonizes our thinking by a human way of thinking. (I’m not arguing for a
turn to phenomenology or panpsychism, but I do worry that we are thinking too
much from within human thought.)
Let me illustrate. My recent book (Kohn 2013) is an ethnographic/ontographic
exploration of how certain humans, the Amazonian Runa, relate to the beings—
animals, ghosts, and spirits—of a tropical forest. This book is called, How
Forests Think (Ontology1, perhaps), not How the Runa Think Forests
Think (Ontology2). In this book I am not just telling you how it is that forests
think (bad Ontology1). Rather, I’m attempting a kind engagement with Runa
thinking with thinking forests such that this sort of sylvan thinking (which is no
longer human, and therefore not just Runa or mine) can think itself through
us—making us over in ways that could make us otherwise (Ontology3).
14
In finding ways to allow thinking forests to think themselves through us, we
cannot just walk away from Ontology1—how things are—because Ontology2
(social construction) is not just a western ontology, but a human one. The point
is that we have to be able to say howthis is (Ontology1), so that in recognizing its
limits we might open ourselves to that which lies beyond it and us (toward
something much stranger than what we take monolithic Nature to be). Our
human way of being is permanently being opened to that which lies beyond it.
This is an ontological fact that, if recognized, can allow us to tap these other
kinds of reals in order to develop another kind of ethical practice in the
Anthropocene, one that could include, in some way or another, those many
other kinds of beings that lie beyond us and with whom we make our lives.
References
Kohn, Eduardo. 2013. How Forests Think: Toward an Anthropology Beyond the
Human. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2009. Métaphysiques cannibales: Lignes d'anthropologie
post-structurale. Paris: Presses universitaires de France.
15
Anthropological Metaphysics /
Philosophical Resistance
by Peter Skafish
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
One of the key political stakes of the ontological turn lies less in concrete, actual
politics than in a certain at once philosophical and anthropological politics—let’s
call it, remembering the Valeryian sense of metaphysics as a fantastic form of
thought emphasized by Viveiros de Castro, a metaphysical politics—that could
be said to involve what Derrida once called “philosophical resistance,” a
resistance through intellectual means to metaphysical structures themselves.
Such resistance today takes place along three fronts, against what can be
dubbed three different conceptualities: (1) the baseline anthropological
metaphysics of the anthropologists; (2) the metaphysics—because, yes, that’s
what it is—of modernity or the moderns (because, yes, the moderns exist and
can be identified); and (3), finally, although we have no time to discuss it, the
new metaphysics articulated by what are nonetheless some very old-school
metaphysicians, by which I mean the metaphysics of speculative realism and
allied currents in English and French philosophy. But this metaphysical politics
also has an active, constructive side whose import lies in its “superior
comparativism” and the transformations it can effect in the core of the
metaphysical bases of the human sciences. I will make this last point apropos
the work of Latour, Viveiros de Castro, and Descola, all of whom I take up here
both because we in fact have well-developed ontologies and metaphysics within
anthropology and to emphasize that discussion of these should be part of a
conversation like ours.
I say that we have to resist a certain baseline anthropological metaphysics
because one of the signal contributions of a certain ontological turn in
anthropology—one not necessarily reducible or identical to the current of
thought usually associated with the term—is that the old anthropological project
of a comparative and critical specification of the modern (and its various
cognates: liberalism, the natural sciences, technology, capitalism) can no longer,
following Viveiros de Castro's Métaphysiques Cannibales and the entire
16
philosophical side of the Latourian corpus culminating in An Inquiry Into
Modes of Existence, be segregated from the actual practice of metaphysics (an
approach for which “ontology” is not exactly be the right word). In other words,
like it or not, the anthropologists are becoming philosophers, and some of the
only ones worth listening to. But if the new concepts they are laying out are not
only to be understood but further deployed, very few people besides the
anthropologists are going to be able to do it, which requires dispensing once and
for all with the tacit metaphysics of anthropology, that poorly mixed, difficult-
to-swallow cocktail of the phenomenological Heidegger, Merleau-Ponty,
Foucault, and a little Marx, according to which everything human is constituted,
in essence, from some mix of Zuhandenheit, lived experience,
perceptual/cognitive forms, historical conditions, and that favorite metaphysical
master concept of anthropology: practice. Unless that metaphysics is smoked
out and exposed for what it is, the new, explicitly metaphysical metaphysics of
anthropology—the other or alter-metaphysics of Viveiros de Castro and the
empirical metaphysics of Latour, both quite aware that they are indeed
metaphysics and of the distribution of the real they propose—will not be heard.
What exactly does the new, avowedly metaphysical metaphysics of the
anthropologists offer a philosophical politics? Three things, each of which is an
aspect of its active, constructive, transformative side. The binding, first of all, of
metaphysical ontology to a comparative, pluralist specification of the modern.
Among the many remarkable things about Latour’s An Inquiry Into the Modes
of Existence is that it lays out a series of metaphysical proposals—about
transcendence, beings, additions to their essences made to them by the various
modes of existence, and transformation—without necessarily universalizing
them, and instead subordinating them to a question about who and what the
moderns are. What this link between comparison and metaphysics does is
overcome the entire philosophical tendency to presume that ontology can be
undertaken without an account of how it relates to peoples and traditions of
thought external or marginal to modernity and it seeks instead to make ontology
a project of specifying the modern. Metaphysics instead becomes
“modernography,” and cannot be undertaken outside it.
17
As for the second political stake, the new anthropological metaphysics offers a
means, perhaps unprecedented in philosophy, toward the transformation of
modern, Western metaphysics, which is one of the most important points
of Métaphysiques Cannibales and the part of Viveiros de Castro’s thinking that
follows it. If philosophy has become particularly stale, if we suffer, as Catherine
Malabou has put it, from a certain kind of metaphysical exhaustion, this is
perhaps because (I offer it as a hypothesis) metaphysical thought can no longer
rely for its materials on the Western canon, whose conceptual resources have
become depleted. Even its margins are becoming too well tread to provide the
materials for philosophical invention. Understanding forms of life and thought
based on conceptual/cosmological coordinates radically different from those of
the moderns, as the Amazonian case shows, requires us to resituate and
conceive anew our fundamental categories and whatever basic form of thought
underlies them. What this means, concretely, is that (1) so-called “subjects,"
"histories," and "truths," for example, that are marginal to, or not of, the
modern West can be listened to and understood only if the concepts (i.e., of the
subject, of history, and of truth) used to interpret them are profoundly
transformed by the encounter. But something even more profound is also at
stake: (2) the resultant transformations will effectively sustain philosophy—by
which I mean conceptual thinking, from whatever discipline, capable of being
transposed into other disciplines—far more than any originating merely from
re-evaluations of the Occidental tradition. The best example of this in Viveiros
de Castro’s work lies, I would say, in his notions of virtual affinity and the
Amerindian “other-structure,” concepts with heavy consequences for the old
Deleuzian virtual/actual couple and the notion of consciousness associated with
them. While I can only gesture to this point, understanding Amazonian
cosmology turns the philosophies of difference on their head while
simultaneously continuing them.
The third political stake of this new metaphysics could be called its “externalist
pluralism,” or, to steal an idea of Patrice Maniglier’s, “superior comparativism.”
This last point is evident in Descola’s Beyond Nature and Culture, a statement
that some will find surprising, but I want to make clear (before it is inevitably
given a thin assessment in the post-theoretical United States) how far this book
goes in migrating metaphysics away from its home territories. Although Beyond
18
Nature and Culture can be taken as offering merely an explanatory typology, it
takes very little imagination to also see it as the first “geography of being,” a
term I use to suggest that its quartet of ontologies is like a group of Heidegger’s
dispensations of being or Foucaultian epochs but with the very crucial
difference that modern metaphysics is not assumed to be primarily legible with
respect to the past of the West. By taking a step out of history and time and onto
a synchronic, geographical plane, Descola shows that modernity can be
rendered intelligible when its basic ontological arrangements are contrasted
with others external to it (not with, that is, arrangements supposedly internal to
its history and thus itself). He thereby provides an alternative to the approach of
a rather large group of post-Heideggerian thinkers, which includes Foucault and
Agamben, who presume that the character of now-global modern problematics
can be assessed through an account of an exclusively Western historicality. This
preference for lateral, geographical comparison opens, moreover, the possibility
of a truly planetary metaphysics, in a double sense: one that would see all
peoples as philosophy’s intercessors, and that would also take the planet as a
whole as a comparable unit, such that this world would be but one variant of
others and thus not limited to the political-economic-ecological-collectivist
possibilities imagined for it by the present neoliberal global order.
References
Descola, Philippe. 2013. Beyond Nature and Culture. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press.
Latour, Bruno. 2013. An Inquiry Into Modes of Existence: An Anthropology of
the Moderns. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. n.d. [2012]. “The Other Metaphysics, and The
Metaphysics of the Others.” Unpublished paper.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. Forthcoming. Cannibal Metaphysics. Translated
by Peter Skafish. Minneapolis: Univocal Press.
19
Geontologies of the Otherwise
by Elizabeth A. Povinelli
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
Words are dear here where we are charged with commenting on the potential of
the concept of ontology for contemporary anthropology—thus the condensed
and clipped nature of my writing. In what follows, I begin by stating some of my
major disagreements with the programmatic statement organizing our
discussion and then outline what I believe are the three nested conditions to any
productive conversation about an ontologically-informed anthropology of the
otherwise.
The Major Disagreements
First, I do not agree that ontology necessarily evokes essence. Numerous
philosophies would demonstrate otherwise. We need only say “Martin
Heidegger” to remember one major philosophical treatise that did not
(existence, remember, precedes essence). Second, I do not agree that the
opposite of ontological essence is multicultural social constructionism. One
would have to understand the complex thinking of Spinoza, Peirce, Deleuze, et
cetera, as “multiculturalism,” something that seems awkward to me. Finally,
engaging the literatures on ontology does not necessitate engaging in a
translation exercise. One could, for instance, be engaged in a transfiguration
exercise (Gaonkar and Povinelli 2003; Povinelli 2011).
The Preconditions
First is a position on the sources of the otherwise. Before I can assess what an
ontology of the otherwise can do for anthropology, I need to know whether
“ontology” is situated in an immanent, transcendental, or trans-immanent
framework. Of course, significant philosophical debates rage within each of
these grossly-characterized positions about who is an example of which and
what will be meant by any of them. But some basic groundwork needs to be laid
so that we know whether we believe that we are dealing with essences or
existents, first and fundamentally. Thus, for the record, if ontology concerns me,
it concerns me as an arrangement of existents at/on/in the plane of existence.
We are, in other words, grappling with a meta-existence–existence dynamic.
20
Entities and their arrangements are immanent to the plane of existence. But the
plane of existence is also immanent in relation to itself and the entities it
produces. In other words, the plane of existence is not one plane of existence. It
is always more than one, even as it is becoming hegemonic or maintaining its
hegemony. Why? The plane of existence is the given order of existents-as-
arrangement. But every arrangement installs its own possible derangements
and rearrangements. The otherwise is these immanent derangements and
rearrangements. Michel Serres (1987) explored a compatible understanding of
how the otherwise is built into every arrangement of existence—to build is to
build the building and its noise. To raise a glass is to build into existence the
possibility it will fall—or float—when let go.
Second are the definitions of power, politics, and ethics that arise from this
approach to the ontology of the otherwise. If any arrangement of
existents/existence builds its own otherwise, then ontology presupposes a study
of power, politics, and ethics as analytically separate problematics. Power is
understood as that which enables arrangements to maintain their apparent
unity and reproduce this apparent unity over time, no matter that these
arrangements are continually creating their own otherwises. Politics is the
adventure of the otherwise as it becomes (or does not) a self-referential,
extended, and dominant entity-arrangement. This process can be summarized:
What is initially dispersed noise comes to enclose itself through self-reference
(and thus an initial this-that differentiation), creating its differential qualities
and skin, and, in the process, pulling in and altering that which surrounds it.
The analytic study of power and politics asks why, given that the otherwise is
everywhere, some existents-existences stay in place? Ethics is a practice of effort
oriented to the formation of new existents and new planes of existence. This
ethics does not have an external—transcendent/transcendental point of view
to/about any given plane of existence. It cannot, given that an immanent
ontology does not allow for adjudication external to the plane of existence. How
and why, therefore, the ethical subject puts effort here or there, on this or that,
now or then, must be understood outside the comfort of normative
adjudication. Even the Habermasian notion of a regulatory ideal (Habermas
1984) is merely a practice of ethics raised to the level of a politics of existence.
21
Third, we must double back onto ontological from the perspective of the entities
it builds into dominant fields of knowledge production (ontic
possibilities, savoir), including anthropology. These entities, I would suggest,
are built on a foundational division within ontology as savoir. Since its
inauguration as a field of philosophical reflection, ontology has been defined
through the problems of being and nonbeing, finitude and infinitude, the zero
and the (multiple) one, most of which create and presuppose a specific kind of
entity-state, namely life. In the natural, social, and philosophical sciences, “life”
acts as a foundational division between entities that have the capacity to be
born, grow, reproduce, and die and those that do not: biology and geology,
biochemistry and geochemistry, life and nonlife. Ontology is, thus, strictly
speaking a “biontology.” Its power is its ability to transform a regional plane of
existence—loosely speaking, Western understandings of those entities that have
these capacities—into a global arrangement. Ethics is the practice of effort that
opens the conditions and cares for the entities that are this division’s otherwise.
And politics is, first, the struggle to demonstrate that this is simply one
arrangement of many possible arrangements between biontology and
geontology; and, second, the struggle to foster and extend the many names of
the otherwise to this ontological division (climate change, anthropocene,
Indigenous cosmologies, animism, vitalism, geontology) such that they are
given life.
References
Gaonkar, Dilip Parameshwar, and Elizabeth A. Povinelli. 2003. “Technologies of
Public Forms: Circulation, Transfiguration, Recognition.” Public
Culture 15, no. 3: 385–97.
Habermas, Jürgen. 1984. The Theory of Communicative Action, Volume 1:
Reason and the Rationalization of Society. Translated by Thomas
McCarthy. Boston: Beacon.
Povinelli, Elizabeth A. 2011. “Routes/Worlds.” e-flux, no. 27.
Serres, Michel. 2007. The Parasite. Translated by Lawrence R. Schehr.
Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press
22
Critical Anthropology as a Permanent
State of First Contact
by Ghassan Hage
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
There is enough of the Marxist that remains in me to make me unable to think
of politics without thinking about capitalism. So I want to use this intervention
to reflect on the relation between the so-called “ontological turn” and
capitalism.
Eduardo Viveiros de Castro’s reflections on the way Amazonian perspectivism
(multi-naturalism) differs from the dominant Western perspectivism (multi-
epistemological perspectivism, mono-naturalism) spurred me to think about the
history of the western notion of perspective. Going back to the rise of
perspective painting in renaissance Italy with Alberti and Bernuschelli, and
looking at the circulation of notions of perspective from this
architectural/artistic/religious milieu and into philosophy and the social
sciences, one finds diverging conceptions of perspective that continue to mark
the present-day debates associated with the ontological turn:
* Mono-perspectivism and multi-perspectivism: many histories of perspective
in art show how renaissance paintings’ mono-perspectival gaze was not the only
form that perspectivism takes. The latter rose at the expense of a pre-existing
multi-perspectivism that continued to exist as a minor form that took an
artistically radical shape with the emergence of cubism.
* Ontological and epistemological perspectivism: there has been an ongoing
tension between a conception of perspective as a “subjective take” on a reality
that is presumed to be always already "there," and an ontological perspectivism,
which highlights the view that reality is the very relation to/perspective on
otherwise undifferentiated surroundings. While in everyday life epistemological
perspectivism has been dominant, in philosophy a long tradition has espoused
various forms of ontological perspectivism. Key figures in this tradition run
23
from Leibniz and Spinoza, to von Uexküll’s influence on the phenomenological
tradition, to Whitehead and Deleuze.
* Visual perspectivism and experiential perspectivism: this denotes the
difference in the popular imagination between perspective as a “point of view”
or as a “way of seeing,” which highlights a visual imaginary, and perspective as
“walking in someone else’s shoes,” which emphasizes an experiential imaginary.
The tension between the two is stressed in Jose Ortega y Gasset’s argument that
“while it is impossible to see an orange fully and simultaneously from all sides, it
is not impossible to touch it or hold it three-dimensionally” (Elkins 1994, 339).
It can be argued that visual perspectivism is more aligned with epistemological
perspectivism, while experiential perspectivism, denoting perspective as a mode
of being enmeshed and existing in the world, has more affinity with ontological
perspectivism. If that is the case, one has to ask if anthropology, particularly
when it is phenomenologically-oriented, has not always favored, at least
implicitly, an ontological conception of culture.
* Finally, one has to point to an interesting, though minor, debate that emerged
out of the well-known renaissance belief that optics, seen as the condition of
possibility and the raw material with which perspective painting was executed,
was one of the ultimate manifestations of God’s creation on earth. The
interesting divergence here is that while some saw perspective, in its relation to
optics, as a way of capturing “the perfection” of God, others saw perspective as a
mode of touching “the mystery” of God.
It is here, in the context of these debates and divergences, that one has to
remember that the dominance of mono-naturalism and epistemological
perspectivism was part of the dominance of the monotheistic, democratic,
scientific and mercantilist assemblage that defined the rise of merchant
capitalism. This assemblage brought together the intimately connected beliefs in
monotheism and the one-ness of nature with the rising mercantilist desire of a
unified mode of measurement of value and “reality” which was also at the core
of the mono-naturalism of perspective painting. The “abacus schools” (scuola
d’abbaco), or schools of “commercial arithmetic,” which emerged in Florence
shaped the mono-naturalist habitus of both merchants and artists. This mono-
naturalism was complemented with a multi-epistemological perspectivism in
24
politics (democracy as the co-existence of many “points of view”). All this, in a
sense, defined the essence of democratic capitalist politics: talk and have as
many “points of view” as you like, as long as capitalism and nature—as the
fundamental realities on which everything stands—are left one and
unchallenged.
In light of the above, it is clear that the multi-naturalism and the ontological
perspectivism that mark the ontological turn stand in opposition to the long
tradition of mono-naturalism and epistemological perspectivism on which
capitalism has rested. There is a clear radical political potential in an
anthropology that is always in pursuit of ontological multiplicity and the
highlighting of existing dominated and overshadowed modes of existence. But it
would be a mistake to see in the highlighting of such minor realities an
intrinsically anti-capitalist act. Minor realities offer new spaces of possibility
but, nonetheless, such realities are merely arenas of political struggle rather
than counter-hegemonic modes of existence in themselves.
Likewise, one cannot forget that today, because of the threat of global warming,
capitalism is decoupling itself from scientific mono-naturalism, and as such
even multiple ontologies can end up being harnessed in the service of
capitalism. But multi-naturalist anthropology is not only defined by ontological
multiplicity. It has also situated itself in the tradition of the renaissance
perspectivists we have noted earlier, who in opposition to those who saw in
perspective a capturing of the perfection of God, saw themselves as always
aiming to be in touch with the mystery of God. It is particularly here that the
ontological turn is at its most radical, reinvigorating a long tradition of an
anthropology defined by a continual encounter with radical alterity:
anthropology as a permanent state of first contact.
References
Elkins, James. 1994. The Poetics of Perspective. Ithaca, N.Y: Cornell University
Press.
25
The Political Ontology of Doing
Difference . . . and Sameness
by Mario Blaser
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
In this intervention I would like to contrast different ways in which some
versions of science and technology studies (STS) and some versions of
anthropology have explored ontological politics. Conversations like the one
staged in this panel, composed to some extent by representatives of both, have
been going on for sometime now so it is a bit unfair to make a strict distinction
of “camps.” However, for the purpose of this discussion let me play with what I
perceive as different initial emphases: on the one hand, the emphasis of STS on
enactment; on the other hand, the emphasis of anthropology on alterity. The
STS’s emphasis on enactments has rendered for us, ontological multiplicity; a
call to dwell on becomings rather than being; and a form of politics that is
fundamentally concerned with how realities are shaped into a given form or
another. The anthropological emphasis on alterity, in turn, has given us
multiple ontologies (that is, ethnographic descriptions of the many-fold shapes
of the otherwise); an injunction not to explain too much or try to actualize the
possibilities immanent to other’s thought but rather to sustain them as
possibilities; and, as a corollary, a politics that initially hinges upon the hope of
making the otherwise visible so that it becomes viable as a real alternative.
What happens if we cross-check these emphases? From the perspective of an
emphasis on alterity, STS-inflected notions of ontological multiplicity and
becomings (expressed in terms of emergences, fluidity, material-semiotic
assemblages and so on) seem to leave no way out for the people described: those
are not necessarily the terms with which they would describe themselves!
Conversely, from the perspective of an emphasis on enactments the
anthropological penchant for foregrounding difference seems to put the cart in
front of the horse: difference comes before an account of how it gets enacted.
In the position paper shared by the organizers I notice an attempt to bring
closer these emphases. The authors do pay attention to enactment, but in a
recursive fashion and to make the point of why ontologically-oriented
26
anthropological analyses are intrinsically political: basically because they
“figurate” the future through their very enactment, they “do” difference as such.
This figuration of a future abundant in difference is presented to us as a “good”:
this is the political value of doing ontologically-inflected anthropology.
If I am correct in reading the position paper as advocating a certain good, then
in spite of the authors argument to the contrary, ontologically-oriented analyses
do not offer an alternative to imperatives about what it should be, they are one
such imperative. And I am informed here by intellectual traditions often
labeled Indigenous, which, in translation of course, will alert us that once you
have associated ontology with enactment, it follows that any kind of analysis or
account carries in its belly a certain imperative about what it should be. Hence,
whether you do difference or sameness, and in more or less explicit ways, you
are already enacting a certain imperative.
Now, if we accept that all kinds of accounts are equivalent as enactments we
come right back to the fundamental political question of STS inspired analyses:
what kinds of worlds are being done through particular accounts and how do we
sort out the good from the bad. As you may have noticed, if we accept that all
accounts are enactments we also end up in a position that is problematic for the
ontologically-inclined anthropologist: in making accounts equivalent as
enactments, we are doing sameness and leaving no way out for our
interlocutors, partners and circumstantial political foes who would not describe
their accounts as enactments. Here is where the injunctions not to describe too
much or actualize other possibilities try to make their mark... But then, how do
we provide an account that makes a case for the “good” being offered by
ontologically-informed anthropology?
It seems to me that the circularity of the problem has to do with an impossible
demand: that ontologically-informed anthropology should enact an account
devoid of any imperative of what it should be. It seems to me that, no matter
how much we may try to elude it, the implicit imperatives that come along with
our accounts unavoidably interrupt, redirect, clash and otherwise intermingle
with other accounts and their imperatives. Anthropology is ontologically
political inasmuch as its operation presupposes this many-fold consequential
intermingling. Then, in my view, the challenge lies not so much in devising ways
27
to indefinitely sustain the possible but contributing to actualize some
possibilities and not others. One of these possibilities (but not the only one)
might precisely be a “worlding” (so to speak) where the possible is indefinitely
sustained.
Contributing to actualize some possibilities and not others entails refusing a
wholesale embrace of either difference or sameness. Granted, in a context where
doing sameness is the dominant modality, doing difference largely becomes an
imperative. However I cannot shed from my mind what an Yshiro teacher and
mentor once told me: not all stories (or accounts) are to be told or enacted just
anywhere; every situation requires its own story. Telling just any story without
attending to what the situation requires is sheer recklessness. Thus, figuring out
where, when and how to do difference and sameness as the circumstances
require is to me the key challenge of doing political ontology.
28
Practical Ontologies
by Casper Bruun Jensen
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
This panel urges consideration of what an ethnographic commitment to
ontology does, and specifically of the politics of ontology. This seems an
important question at a time when the notion appears with increasing frequency
in anthropological discussions. To be in a position to address that question,
however, first requires some disentanglement as regards the notion itself. Such
disentanglement could no doubt be the topic of book-length treatises, but I will
limit myself to observing that a preoccupation with ontology has emerged more
or less simultaneously within science and technology studies (STS) and
anthropology. In the former, ontology has been discussed at least since the mid-
1990s in the works of Bruno Latour, Annemarie Mol, Andrew Pickering, and
Helen Verran, whereas in the latter, key inspirations include Marilyn Strathern,
Roy Wagner, and Eduardo Viveiros de Castro. I do not think the more or less
simultaneous emergence of ontology in these fields is fortuitous, since the
figures mentioned share certain genealogies and they are affiliated in various
complex ways. I also do not think the views of ontology propagated within each
are antithetical or incommensurable; indeed I think they can be mutually
enriching. However, they are different and those differences are important to
bear in mind in order to consider the implications of an ontological politics.
To draw the most schematic contrast possible, consider the following two
claims: Viveiros de Castro (2011, 34) says that anthropological explanation must
take place at the level of the “(cultural) structures of ontological
presupposition.” Andrew Pickering argues that the very nature of the world is
subject to transformation due to ongoing interactions between multiple human
and nonhuman agents. What we need is an ontological theory of the visible,
dealing with this “dance of agency” (Pickering 1995).
It appears to me these views pull in different directions in terms of ontological
politics. If Viveiros de Castro, Holbraad, etc., in spite of their protestations and
clarifications, are repeatedly accused of culturalizing ontology and essentialising
people, it is probably due to the focus on cultural structures of ontological
29
presuppositions. In contrast, ontology in STS generally leads to an interest in
elucidating ways in which new forms of subjects and objects are formed in
assemblages, which certainly include people’s “thoughts” but no less the
technologies and other materials with which they continuously engage (Jensen
2010; Jensen and Winthereik 2013). Rather than essentialising, such studies are
often seen as dangerously relativistic, since culture is here hardly held stable at
all and ontology is basically never spoken about in the singular. It is always an
issue of ontologies, even within what appears to be limited settings.
Where does that leave us, politically speaking? Since the conveners have
encouraged us to speak directly, let me offer a direct view. It seems to me that in
some of its anthropological guises, like Martin Holbraad’s (2012) work, we find
very interesting ontological experiments, but basically nothing resembling a
politics. Viveiros de Castro (2011) is quite different, in that he is explicit about
his aim to decolonize Indian thought. Other recent anthropological
explorations, like Mario Blaser’s (2009) and Marisol de la Cadena’s (2010) also
use ontological argumentation to support particular forms of politics, namely
those of specific indigenous people. But from which pre-ontological domain
comes the necessity or inclination to support just those people and agendas?
After all, we might say, states, colonizers, and mining companies also have
ontologies. We just tend not to like them. We might therefore say that in these
cases the politics (as contrasted with the choices of ethnographic description) is
not ontological, it is a more or less regular politics extended to operate also on
the terrain of nonhuman beings.
If, on the other hand, ontologies are manifest in transformations at the level of
the visible, so that one can always witness ontological contests or
choreographies (Cussins 1998) ethnographically, what then? In that case, rather
than using ontology as a leverage point for doing politics on behalf of a group of
people, ontological politics is evinced descriptively and conceptually as new
sociomaterial constellations that may include forms of science, governance,
livelihoods, myths, infrastructures, and so on. Such constellations, we might
say, are literal construction sites for divergent, practical ontologies. They have
effects that go considerably beyond culturally structured presuppositions. This
is already an important reason to give attention to them.
30
In terms of the anthropological politics of studying ontology, we might say that
studying forms of world-making in situations where many people, projects, and
technologies clash, tends to make obvious that Westerners and moderns
themselves are very different, both from what they think they are (modern and
rational, for example) and what anthropologists tend to claim they are
(reductive and dualist, for example). Ontologies thus multiply the us’s and
them’s of which the world is composed and render all of them more exotic,
simultaneously.
Finally, note the recursive implication of this view of ontology for anthropology
as discipline or project. If ontology is evinced in front of our noses in the shape
of all kinds of world-making projects, then anthropological practice can itself be
conceived as an ontological form. The kinds of topics we like to talk about as
epistemological thus collapse into ontology, and fieldwork, writing, and
argumentation begins to look like small machines for intervening in this or that
part of the world, for performing the world in this or that marginally different or
novel way (Jensen 2012). In that sense, we are invariably part of ontological
politics, but not of any politics given by the ontologies of those we study or work
with. Viewed thus, ontological politics relieves from anthropology the burden
and, as Deleuze might say, shame of speaking for others. But it creates new
obligations in terms of articulating the ways in which anthropologists feel
qualified to speak and their reasons for speaking as they do.
References
Blaser, Mario. 2009. “The Threat of the Yrmo: The Political Ontology of a
Sustainable Hunting Program.” American Anthropologist 111, no. 1: 10–
20.
Cussins, Charis. 1998. “Ontological Choreography: Agency for Women Patients
in an Infertility Clinic.” In Differences in Medicine: Unraveling Practices,
Techniques, and Bodies, edited by Marc Berg and Annemarie Mol, 166–
202. Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press.
de la Cadena, Marisol. 2010. “Indigenous Cosmopolitics in the Andes:
Conceptual Reflections Beyond ‘Politics.’” Cultural Anthropology 25, no.
4: 334–70.
31
Holbraad, Martin. 2012. Truth in Motion: The Recursive Anthropology of
Human Divination. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Jensen, Casper Bruun. 2010. Ontologies for Developing Things: Making Health
Care Futures Through Technology. Rotterdam: Sense.
Jensen, Casper Bruun. 2012. “Motion: The Task of Anthropology is to Invent
Relations.”Critique of Anthropology 32, no. 1: 47–53.
Jensen, Casper Bruun, and Brit Ross Winthereik. 2013. Monitoring Movements
in Development Aid: Recursive Infrastructures and Partnerships.
Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press.
Pickering, Andrew. 1995. The Mangle of Practice: Time, Agency and
Science. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2011. The Inconstancy of the Indian Soul: The
Encounter of Catholics and Cannibals in 16th Century Brazil. Chicago:
Prickly Paradigm Press.
32
Equal Time for Entities
by Michael W. Scott
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
The turn to ontology has established at least one indispensable insight: it has
called attention to the fact that entities are intra-relational as well as inter-
relational. It has compelled us to recognize that entities are intrinsically
multiple, or self-differing. Without retreating from this insight, my contribution
to this discussion will be to question whether intrinsic multiplicity necessarily
implies an ontological—and therefore political—asymmetry between relations
and entities. It has become axiomatic in some quarters that relations are
logically prior to and encompass entities (e.g., Holbraad, Pedersen, and Viveiros
de Castro 2013; Pedersen 2012; Viveiros de Castro 2010). The fact that entities
comprise relations has been taken to mean that there can be no simultaneously
autonomous things. Intrinsic multiplicity is presumed to constitute an invisible
extensive pre-connectivity. But this asymmetry, I want to suggest, is not only
unwarranted; it may also be politically undesirable.
To illustrate my point, I ask you to picture the image of Indra’s net, as developed
in Chinese Buddhism. As many of you will know, Roy Wagner (2001) has
invoked this image as an aid to conceptualizing what he calls the “holographic
worldview.” Wagner tells us that the negative spaces—the holes in Indra’s net—
are not really empty at all, but are “gems that reflect one another so perfectly
‘that they do not know whether they are one or many’” (2001, 13, quotation
unattributed).
Wagner (2001, 13) suggests that this image instantiates what he calls “the
absolute identity of part and whole.” His use of this image looks, in other words,
like an example of what Eduardo Viveiros de Castro (2010) describes as a virtual
connection between Wagner’s thought and the philosophy of Deleuze. Indra’s
net is Wagner’s way of expressing what Deleuze and Guattari (2004, 23) call
“the magic formula”: “PLURALISM = MONISM.” In both cases, the ontology
indexed is one of infinite invariant fractality, what Wagner (1991, 163, 166)
elsewhere describes as the “whole cloth of universal congruence” or “integral
33
relationship” replicated across all scales. Everything contains everything else, at
least in potentia.
Now, in my view, there are many potential problems with this holographic
ontology, at least as methodological presupposition. For one thing, there is, at
present, no evidence that the universe is comprehensively fractal—let alone
fractal to the degree of invariant self-similarity across all scales. I am concerned
that we have simply been wonderstruck by the apparent congruence between a
few aesthetically powerful examples of invariant fractality—as described by
scientists and mathematicians—and the familiar macrocosm–microcosm
correlations found in many ancient, indigenous, and alter-modern cosmologies.
But the main point I want to make is this: if, like many of the ancient,
indigenous, and alter-modern cosmologies we study, we posit an asymmetry
between an all-pervasive relational background (whatever we call it) and
entities, conceptualized as figures emerging from it, we risk reinventing—or
lending support to—claims that some entities are either closer to, or somehow
have greater access to their inner capacities for infinite becoming than others.
Accordingly, if we return to the image of Indra’s net—as good to think if not to
embrace as methodological ontology—we must acknowledge its absolute
ambiguity. It is a classic figure–ground composition, but one that must be
read alternately as either a radicalor a partial duality (con. Viveiros de Castro
2010). It cannot be both at once only; a both/and formulation alone gives
permanent ontological ascendancy to the “whole cloth” of relations over entities.
Wagner says that the gems do not know whether they are one or many. But it is
equally the case, I suggest, that they do not know whether they are entities or
relations. They do not know whether they are autonomous terms with their own
core intra-relational essences, or nothing but nexuses in an infinite web. After
all, if the negative spaces—the holes in Indra’s net—can be seen as positive, it is
equally the case that the positive spaces—the ligatures—can be seen as negative,
as gaps between the gems, rather than links. Indra’s net can instantiate a
thoroughly essentialist ontology—one that posits autonomous multiplicities at
every scale.
More importantly, intrinsic multiplicity—whether this means internal relations
that are isomorphic at every scale, or (what is more likely) internal relations that
34
are contingent and unique to every entity—need not preclude a
priori autonomy. The insight that entities are composed of relations does not
necessitate the asymmetrical privileging of relations over entities. People can—
and, indeed, some people do—see the gems first as independent complexities in
need of swerve, in need of external connections to start up a cosmos. At the very
least, then, such a privileging of intrinsically multiple yet always already
autonomous entities needs to be sustained indefinitely as a possibility, both in
anthropological theory and in ethnographic contexts.
References
Deleuze, Gilles, and Félix Guattari. 2004. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and
Schizophrenia. London: Continuum.
Holbraad, Martin, Morten Axel Pedersen, and Eduardo Viveiros de Castro.
2013. “The Politics of Ontology: Anthropological Positions.” Position paper
for roundtable discussion. American Anthropological Association annual
meeting, Chicago.
Pedersen, Morten Axel. 2012. “The Task of Anthropology is to Invent Relations:
For the Motion.” Critique of Anthropology 32, no. 1: 59–65.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2010. “Intensive Filiation and Demonic Alliance.”
InDeleuzian Intersections: Science, Technology, Anthropology, edited by
Casper Bruun Jensen and Kjetil Rödje, 219–53. Oxford: Berghahn.
Wagner, Roy. 1991. “The Fractal Person.” In Big Men and Great Men:
Personifications of Power in Melanesia, edited by Maurice Godelier and
Marilyn Strathern, 159–73. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Wagner, Roy. 2001. An Anthropology of the Subject: Holographic Worldview
in New Guinea and Its Meaning and Significance for the World of
Anthropology. Berkeley: University of California Press.
35
Anthropology as Ontology is Comparison
as Ontology
by Helen Verran
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
A claim that emerges about at about the halfway mark of Holbraad, Pedersen,
and Viveiros de Castro’s (2013) paper provides my beginning:
“The anthropology of ontology is anthropology as ontology; not the
comparison of ontologies, but comparison as ontology.”
I complement the claim that “anthropology as ontology . . . is comparison as
ontology” by insisting that the entities we deal with in doing anthropology are
themselves comparisons. The exemplar I have in mind here is numbers, like
those multiple numbers I met in Nigerian classrooms. Numbers are formalized
comparisons, solidified clots of relations; all the more solid for being
formalisms. As things, numbers are familiar comparison participants in many
collectives
My claim, that the entities we deal with and through in anthropology are
comparisons, can lead us to recognize ontic tensions, which might become an
ontological politics. However, that passage from recognizing entities as
comparisons participant in ontic tensions, to recognizing the possibility of
ontological politics, differs from the insight that anthropology as ontology is
comparison as ontology. The latter acknowledgement amounts to recognizing
that anthropology is a political ontology, one of several acting in any collective
in which ethnography is pursued. It is within the force fields of those political
ontologies—including anthropology’s, that the ontic tensions of a collective
might (or might not) emerge as ontological politics.
That emergence of an ontological politics in a collective in which an
ethnographer is participant can be felt as a disconcertment. I see this experience
as a form of epistemic disconcertment, when negotiations around what is known
and how it is known become evident as fluid. I felt this in Nigerian classrooms
as I describe in my beginning stories inScience and an African Logic (2001). I
met new numbers, brought to life by teachers who we might think of as ontic
36
innovators. The new numbers that these teachers brought to life were
participants in those classrooms, along with the “official number” of the primary
school curriculum. Classroom routines were designed to ensure the dominance
of that number but it did not stop Yoruba number entering the classroom. Many
of the children dealt with and through Yoruba number in their out-of-school
lives as young market vendors, and it still had influence, and the capacity to
interrupt the smooth workings of the Western number of modern
administration.
In the re-performance of those classrooms in the writing of an ontologically-
focused ethnography as an analytic text, yet another number came to life as
participant comparison. This number was, like many of those the teachers
brought to life in their experimenting, both and neither the number of the
official primary school curriculum and Yoruba market number. But the
ethnographer’s number differed from those of the experimenting teachers in
having its metaphysical commitment made explicit. That making explicit, albeit
in re-performance, is an expression of a political ontology. While perhaps a
benign political ontology, which by making its metaphysical commitments
explicit announces itself as proceeding in good faith, it is nevertheless a political
ontology, one that takes its place in the tense political landscapes of those
classrooms. It abuts and abrades the political ontology of the numbers
promoted by the modernizing school curriculum, and the resisting and
sometimes subverting political ontology that is forged and sanctioned in the
Ooni’s palace at the center of town, and a perhaps inchoate political ontology
enacted by the teachers who must manage their large classes of restless children
with few resources.
Recognizing contesting political ontologies, including that which enters with
ethnography, makes clear that what was happening with numbers there in those
Nigerian classrooms. I experienced disconcertment as immanent ontic tensions
clotted in becoming as an ontological politics within the force fields of mutually
interrupting political ontologies. And that tension zone is, it seems to me,
exactly where an ontologically-sensitive ethnography is located and where it
should stay in its re-performance as analytic text.
37
Staying in that place of tension where ontic tensions clot (or not) as ontological
politics within the force fields of political ontologies, the ethnographer has a
chance of discriminating divergences and convergences: generative, or
exploitative, or unfruitful doings of difference. So here we find the possibility of
judgment, of critique. Meta-critique was rightly written out of ethnography, but
ethnography located in that imagined zone of ontological tension can and
should engage a form of infra-critique, gesturing at possible generative tensions,
while explicitly refusing others.
References
Holbraad, Martin, Morten Axel Pedersen, and Eduardo Viveiros de Castro.
2013. “The Politics of Ontology: Anthropological Positions.” Position paper
for roundtable discussion. American Anthropological Association annual
meeting, Chicago.
Verran, Helen. 2001. Science and an African Logic. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press.
38
Onto-Methodology
by Tony Crook
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
Because we can only know in relation to something else, this discussion of the
Politics of Ontology gets to the heart of the anthropological project. Ontology
provides a relational view of method. Every ethnographic description is equally
a description of the anthropology producing it.
Anthropology's engagements with the political have been turned inside out over
recent years. Any distinction or definition between textual representation and
political representation has been collapsed. Speaking about can now be heard
as speaking for. As much as what an ethnographic text or description might say,
even the act of ethnographic description itself can make a political statement.
But this roundtable is important for it provides an opportunity to separate out
again these twinned politics of representation. And it also provides a space
therefore, in which to leave aside the question of whether a discussion of
anthropological method should be political or non-political.
My book, Exchanging Skin (2007), derives from research in Bolivip village in
Papua New Guinea. The book takes up the Min Problem—a long-standing
analytical impasse—and argues that the problem all along was one of
Anthropology's own making. Intriguingly, the very peoples and places that,
through Fredrik Barth's work on the Baktaman, came to stand for and exemplify
secrecy and knowledge, have provided the discipline with one of its most
critically demanding tests. Although analyses based on Euro-American
conceptualizations of secrecy and knowledge were produced, they did not stack
up with the ethnography in Bolivip.
In Bolivip, “knowledge” implicates people in a double life by affording and
bringing together divergent gendered perspectives: not so much revealing to a
viewer their position in the composition of a field of knowledge, as newly
revealing the composition of the knower and the subtleties of their personal
capacities and relational supports. This is not so much being in the world (a
figuring out of positions) as world in the being (a figuring of internal capacities).
Revelations have the dual life effect of revealing that there is always more to
39
things than one knows—and so it creates a relation that carefully positions a
person in those new possibilities.
Knowledge practices in Bolivip employ the imagery of relative positions on a
tree: the muddled confusion of junior cultists is likened to the multiplicity of
branches and leaves, whilst very senior cultists display their solidifying grasp of
things in the way that the ever-branching stories of juniors seem always to come
down to the same thing. There is a double-ontology in Bolivip: for juniors in the
crown, words from seniors at the base appear to branch into multiple
possibilities.
Clearly, ontology is no one thing. As we've already heard, “ontology” can serve to
describe an all-encompassing world view, and to describe an all-encompassing
anthropological method. That “ontology” foregrounds and highlights this
isomorphism between ethnographic object and anthropological method is its
most important virtue.
Of course, anthropologists are adept at discerning the wider cultural histories
and metaphysical concerns at work in world views, and thus it is possible to
discern contemporary Euro-American conceptual collapses of nature and
culture such that things seem to have “micro-ontologies” (so every thing has a
world, and a worldview, of its own), and to discern emergent Christian and
process theologies which refashion the position and the mathematics of the
Godhead (so that God and his believers are part of, and can pass through, each
other).
Ontology provides a relational view of method, and reminds us that a critical
test for ethnographic knowledge-practices is the faithfulness with which they
acknowledge that they are both enabled and constrained by the knowledge
practices of our ethnographic subjects. For too long, the pretense of
scrupulously separating data from theory had anthropology barking up the
wrong tree, and afforded a privileged analytical position as if narrating from
outside the ethnographic relation. I take it that looking for theory in the same
place we look for data provides a crucial disciplinary and decolonizing turn.
Every ethnographic description is equally a description of the anthropology
producing it, then. Ontology is useful because it foregrounds our part in the
relational and conceptual scheme, and reminds us of three important lessons:
40
(1) Roy Wagner's (1981) enduring insight about our invention of culture—that is,
the efficacy and contingency of using our concepts (such as “culture” or
“ontology”) to apprehend, apportion to and describe the concerns of our
ethnographic subjects.
(2) Marilyn Strathern's (2011, 92) insights into exchanges between knowledge
practices—that is, “to be perspectivalist acts out Euro-American pluralism,
ontologically grounded in one world and many viewpoints; perspectivism
implies an ontology of many worlds and one capacity to take a viewpoint.”
(3) As I understand Viveiros de Castro's (2004, 3) “comparison between
anthropologies,” it is neither multiple natures nor singular cultures that require
analysis, but a description of the metaphysics, potentials and affordances that
find manifestation and expression in different forms.
Any methodological insistence on these three lessons carries political force for
the reproduction and transformation of the disciple. It may even save us from
being dazzled and taken in by the effects of our own creativity, and allow the
creativity of ethnographic subjects to further expand our understandings of
being human.
References
Crook, Tony. 2007. Anthropological Knowledge, Secrecy and Bolivip, Papua
New Guinea: Exchanging Skin. Oxford: British Academy/Oxford
University Press.
Strathern, Marilyn. 2011. “Binary License.” Common Knowledge 17, no. 1: 87–
103.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2004. “Perspectival Anthropology and the Method
of Controlled Equivocation.” Tipití: Journal of the Society for the
Anthropology of Lowland South America 2, no. 1: 3–22.
Wagner, Roy. 1981. The Invention of Culture. Chicago: University of Chicago
Press. Originally published in 1975.
41
Archaeology, Risk, and the Alter-Politics
of Materiality
by Benjamin Alberti
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
Here are some things familiar to many archaeologists: thermoluminescence;
electron spin resonance; X-ray fluorescence; scanning electron microscopy;
inductively coupled plasma mass spectrometry; neutron activation analysis; as
well as shovels, barrows, dirt, line levels, and pencils. Some archaeologists are
angry that they have not been included more in debates on the ontological turn.
What could be more real, more ontologically weighty than the things
archaeologists study and how they study them? This is not to imply that
archaeology is all science and method. Though the big issue in archaeology is
often seen to be, precisely, methodological: how to get through things to past
human lives? We have an apparently endless sea of possible “other worlds,” but
they are sand-bagged by the problem of confirmation. We can only conjure up
such lives and worlds from their physical traces, translating differences in
materials through practice.
In this statement I make two interventions. The first takes the form of a
question: What is the status of materials in our ontological accounts? I’m going
to wag my finger a little and claim materials back from their status as “merely
prosaic” in the current debate. They are where alterity lies. Second, I argue that
to get political enough, to get worlds otherwise out of archaeology, requires risk.
We archaeologists can be very defensive about our things. In fact, one could
argue that a new essentialism has emerged—a return to things as things—as a
symptom of exhaustion in the face of the search for meaning. The claim is that
there is something about a thing that is beyond signification, that cannot be
captured or explained away. And it is the job of the archaeologist to care for our
things, to ensure them their dignity (Olsen et al. 2012). We might, on this basis,
rephrase Eduardo Viveiros de Castro: “archaeology,” we might say “is the
science of the ontological self-determination of the world’s things.” This sounds
faintly insulting, but bears thinking about. As I read the position statement of
this panel by Holbraad, Pedersen, and Viveiros de Castro (2013), the question
42
that came to me repeatedly was: What about the alterity lodged in materials, in
their indeterminacy? Materials are treated in the statement as prosaic ground
rather than excess. I would ask Holbraad, Pedersen, and Viveiros de Castro why
they think materials afford anything at all.
This is the central question for an ontologically oriented archaeology and its
politics. How do things afford? Archaeologists are guilty of constantly passing
through the material traces on their way to past peoples but rarely actually
access the “dark side” of ontological alternatives. Instead, we find what we’re
looking for—abstractions, social structures, past ontologies-as-cultures—
because the ontological operation in the formation of the materials and how and
what they afford is rarely questioned. My suggestion is that we can only “elicit
new forms” from affordances of materials and forces if we refuse a common-
sense understanding of them as somehow primitive. The politics of things
before they emerge as such is what archaeologists ought to contend with.
Alterity is prior to properties.
It is becoming increasingly widely recognized that archaeology is onto-formative
in its very practice. We don’t uncover pasts but assemble them in the present
(Fowler 2013). The gap between past worlds and material traces is only
apparent. We now have rich and detailed descriptions of archaeological
practice—seeing and doing—as ontological in nature. The technologies of
descriptions are recognized to include multiple non-human agencies,
apparatuses, things. But because we are “wonder-struck,” as Scott describes it,
by that realization we can overlook alterity. What about the difference that a
focus on ontology should make? This is a question of politics and risk. Elizabeth
Grosz (2005, 129) has written that “politics, as much as life itself, is that which
‘gives being to what did not exist.’” I don’t think archaeology can participate in a
critical political ontology while we operate at the scale of the meta-theoretical—
the search for a corrective to our faulty metaphysics—which makes it difficult to
admit to the necessary contingency of theoretical foundations. We have a new
constituency of things to care for; but it is hard to leave a door ajar for alterity to
enter.
Sandy Budden and Jo Sofaer (2009) have argued that when potters made pots
at the Bronze Age Tell of Százhalombatta in Hungary they risked their social
43
identities, as each performance of potting was judged by an audience of the
potter’s community. If we include the material within the social, if what one is
working on—clay, materials—is seen as identical in kind to oneself, then far
more is at risk. Such is the case, I have argued, with body-pots from northwest
Argentina (Alberti 2014). A successful performance there involves both
producing an efficacious transformative act (of the material) and convincing a
far broader audience (of beings) of its success. The risk you run is ontological.
Archaeological practice as ontological ought to be the same. It should throw the
archaeologist and her materials into a state of vulnerability and risk. I think it
no accident that those archaeologists willing to risk in this way have learned the
lessons of contingent foundations from feminist, queer and Indigenous practice.
Extracting worlds otherwise in archaeology involves admitting doubt and
difference into our very specific examination of materials, including how they
afford. With further apologies to Eduardo Viveiros de Castro, could we
characterize this effort, then, as “the permanent decolonization of matter”? Or,
could we argue, even, for an alter-politics of the (pre)particulate?
References
Alberti, Benjamin. 2014. “Designing Body–Pots in the Formative La Candelaria
Culture, Northwest Argentina.” In Making and Growing: Anthropological
Studies of Organisms and Artefacts, edited by Elizabeth Hallam and Tim
Ingold. Aldershot: Ashgate.
Budden, Sandy, and Joanna Sofaer. 2009. “Non-Discursive Knowledge and the
Construction of Identity: Potters, Potting and Performance at the Bronze
Age Tell of Százhalombatta, Hungary.” Cambridge Archaeological
Journal 19, no. 2: 203–20.
Fowler, Chris. 2013. The Emergent Past: A Relational Realist Archaeology of
Early Bronze Age Mortuary Practices. Oxford: Oxford University Press.
Grosz, Elizabeth. 2005. Time Travels: Feminism, Nature, Power. Durham,
N.C.: Duke University Press.
Holbraad, Martin, Morten Axel Pedersen, and Eduardo Viveiros de Castro.
2013. “The Politics of Ontology: Anthropological Positions.” Position paper
44
for roundtable discussion. American Anthropological Association annual
meeting, Chicago.
Lucas, Gavin. 2012. Understanding the Archaeological Record. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press.
45
The Ontology of the Political Turn
by Matei Candea
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
The position piece by Holbraad, Pedersen, and Viveiros de Castro (2013) offers
an engaging account of how politics and the ontological turn might fit together.
The Deleuzian (or indeed Tardean) sounding thought that the ontological turn is
an immanent politics of permanent differentiation appeals. It certainly captures
much of what I for one have found attractive about this emerging bundle of
arguments, while eschewing much of what is potentially problematic, such as
the notion—clearly rejected here—of ontologies tied to named groups of people,
and hence of a new identity politics by ontological means. Similarly, the focus
on permanent theoretical revolution wards off—in principle at least—the
greatest danger which awaits any theoretical movement entering its second
generation, by which I mean the moment when, as is currently beginning to
happen, anthropologists are going to the field with a sense of “the ontological
turn” as a particular theoretical option. The danger this poses is the classic one
of replicating results rather than methodological commitments—crudely put,
the danger of going out to the field bent on “discovering” that whoever one
happens to be studying actually lives in a world in which there is no single
nature, and happens to have a striking penchant for elements of a relational,
non-dualist, immanent material vitalism. The ontological turn, defined as a
commitment to an immanent politics of permanent conceptual differencing,
couldn’t possibly stand for that type of prejudged rediscovery of the same and
that is all to the good.
However, I will argue that the acid test of the resolution of the permanent
conceptual revolutionary comes when she encounters the term “politics”—an
immovable object if ever there was one. Indeed, put “the ontological turn” and
“politics” side by side and you will soon find that the terms do not stay put for
long. Very quickly, the latter—“politics”—seems to want to pop up to a
superordinate level, and we are drawn to talking and thinking about the politics
of the ontological turn: what political project is implied by, or explicitly pursued
by anthropologists who deploy “ontology” as a designator? The potential
answers to this question are multiple, as the position piece makes clear, but its
46
form is broadly stable. In other words, “politics” seems necessarily to be the
bigger thing in terms of which the ontological “turn” can (and should) ultimately
be called to account. Tellingly, for instance, when the position piece speaks of
three different ways in which politics and ontology are correlated, it is in fact
describing the politics of three ontological positions (broadly speaking a realist,
a deconstructivist, and a performative one).
But what if the scale were reversed? What if instead of asking about the politics
of the ontological turn, the ontological turn were the superordinate entity and
the political just one of the particular topics falling under its call for permanent
revolution? The position piece makes some moves in this direction when it
speaks, for instance, of the limitations of one (modern, multicultural, etc.) kind
of politics. Here the ontological anthropologist might be able to show, by
drawing (through engaged mutual misunderstandings) on the politics of the
other, that an other politics is possible. But in that move, politics has again
taken the upper hand and become the common denominator that sutures
ontological difference. For how does the ontological anthropologist know an
“other” politics when she sees it? Presumably, it would have to look like
something other than what we currently know as (modern, multicultural, etc.)
politics—although in another sense, it would have to look enough like politics in
the widest definition given here (“power differences”). The ontological
anthropologist would then presumably have to say that this, too, is politics,
albeit not “our” version of it. And this, in turn, replicates and extends the classic
move of political anthropology from the 1970s onwards, of showing the political
to operate in seemingly un-political places (cf. Candea 2011b).
That is why, from the perspective of permanent conceptual revolution, the
political is the one ingredient that is hard to keep in the mix: it keeps floating up
to the top, as it were. In another sense too: any argument about the political
calls up a question about the politics of that argument. Thus politics still trumps
ontology, and method, every time. The position piece deftly seeks to square that
circle by rendering as political the ontological turn’s own methodological
commitment to the constant production of difference. This is an elegant twist,
and one that has a venerable line of predecessors from Foucault onwards, but it
does seem that once again, the political ends up on top. Indeed, when we take
47
the very fact of differing as political, we really have reached the horizon towards
which political anthropology has been tending, in which everything (and
therefore, in another sense, nothing) is political. And in that move, we are also
getting further from the commitment to generating alternatives to established
ways of thinking. After all, political anti-authoritarianism—the end-point of the
piece—is itself a fairly well-established way of thinking, amongst Euro-American
anthropologists at least. Adherents of the ontological turn have been repeatedly
asked a conventional question (“What are your politics?”) and this ultimately
requires a relatively conventional answer.
In many respects, the primacy of the political, its ability to return us back to
fairly grounded, conventional problems, is to be welcomed. Amongst other
things, it forces the would-be permanent revolutionary to ask a question that
has not yet, I think, been conclusively addressed in the ontological turn, namely
that of interlocution: whom, precisely, is one “taking seriously,”[1] and what
might a disagreement or response from them look like?
That being said, consider how different the conversation would sound if, for
instance, one asked instead about the religion rather than the politics of the
ontological turn (cf. Scott 2013)—that conversation might shake things up
rather more and bring its own problems. But it would certainly provide a
purview from which the political could emerge as just one topic among others.
Perhaps we do sometimes need to suspend (however briefly) the question of the
politics of ontological difference to genuinely bring into view the question of the
ontological difference of politics. By this I mean both the possibility of an
“other” politics and the possibility of there being things other than politics. To
ask about this is to ask, in other words, how “other” the otherwise can be.
Notes
[1] I would maintain, pace the position piece’s move away from the term, that
the normative injunction to take seriously the worlds of “others,” and thereby to
distort “our own,” remains a fairly apt description of the immanent politics of
the ontological turn. It is particularly apposite precisely because of the
fundamental ambiguity at the heart of the notion of “taking seriously” (cf.
Viveiros de Castro 2011; Candea 2011a).
48
References
Candea, Matei. 2011a. “Endo/Exo.” Common Knowledge 17, no. 1: 146–50.
Candea, Matei. 2011b. “‘Our division of the universe’: A Space for the Non-
Political in the Anthropology of Politics.” Current Anthropology 52, no. 3:
309–34.
Holbraad, Martin, Morten Axel Pedersen, and Eduardo Viveiros de Castro.
2013. “The Politics of Ontology: Anthropological Positions.” Position paper
for roundtable discussion. American Anthropological Association annual
meeting, Chicago.
Scott, Michael W. 2013. “The Anthropology of Ontology (Religious
Science?).” Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 19, no. 4: 859–
72.
Viveiros de Castro, Eduardo. 2011. “Zeno and the Art of Anthropology: Of Lies,
Beliefs, Paradoxes, and Other Truths.” Common Knowledge 17, no. 1: 128–
45.
49
The Politics of Modern Politics Meets
Ethnographies of Excess Through
Ontological Openings
by Marisol de la Cadena
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
I want to engage the position paper by Holbraad, Pedersen, and Viveiros de
Castro (2013) by bringing to the fore an ethnographic moment that proposed
itself as obliging analysis at the crossroads of ontology and modern politics. But
first a comment on the opening line of the position paper: the bed-fellowship
between ontology and modern politics is that of a pair of complementary
opposites. Politics engages change, which its ontological makeup limits. To be
smoothly efficient, they require a third partner: history, explaining it all—
change and limit—and making it “as it should be,” rational and future-oriented.
This, which also explains away the politics of modern politics, can be opened to
critical view by what I (therefore) prefer to imagine as “ontological opening”
rather than “turn.”
Now to the ethnographic moment, briefly, because I have already narrated it
elsewhere (de la Cadena 2010.) The setting was Cuzco (Peru), the year 2006, a
time when neoliberal principles and the demand for minerals in certain parts of
the world exacerbated the translation of nature into resources. The event was
that of a mountain (perhaps replete of gold) that was also an earth-being (or an
earth-being, also a mountain) participating in a political contest where one
reality was more powerful than the other. The human participants in the conflict
were environmentalists, Quechua indigenous-mestizos, and engineers working
for a mining corporation. An alliance between the first two defeated the golden
aspirations of the corporate engineers. The mountain won, the mining company
lost: but to earn this victory, the earth-being was made invisible, its political
presence recalled by the alliance that also defended it.
In addition to political ecology and political economy, the above contest also
transpired in the field of political ontology in two intertwined senses of the
concept: (1) as the field where practices-entities-concepts co-constitute each
50
other, make each other be; (2) as the enactment, within this field, of modern
politics itself, obliging what is and what is not its matter. Yet, ontology was a
subdued partner in the arena of contention: that the mountain was also an
earth-being was an issue made irrelevant as the question unfolded politically.
Modern politics swallowed it, while saving the mountain from being swallowed
by the mining corporation. An ontological opening of modern politics can reveal
the inevitability of this “alliance” as resulting from the specificity of modern
politics.
Modern politics has a politics that is ontologically specific: what/who it includes
or excludes—who can/cannot parley—results from what modern politics
allegedly unquestionably is (and that, by becoming visible in events like the
above, also becomes subject to interrogation). Modern politics is premised on
representation (ideological, scientific, economic, cultural, and perhaps moral),
hence it requires reality out there, usually as facts that can then become
concerns. This is a requirement of modern politics, a condition of what it is, and
how it makes the world one. And while culture can propose matters of concern,
those proposals are not about facts and are therefore weaker as matters of
concern when in tension with those presented by nature. Modern politics
(liberalism and socialism) sustains nature and its facts through confrontations
like the above that include the translation of the earth-being (exceeding nature
and culture) into belief and hence not a political actor/concern—or a weak one.
That in this process the ontological make up of politics—or the politics of
politics—occupies a blind spot guarantees its hegemony. Opening that precise
spot offers the possibility of eventalizing (cf. Foucault) modern politics,
turningits own politics inside out to reveal how its seams, composed of both
situated conditions and universal requirements, enable its uniform imposition,
rather than its inevitable implementation. In this process, the hegemony of
modern politics may be productively disconcerted—to use Helen Verran’s
phrase (2013)—as it is exposed to what it cannot deal with, to what may
constitute its excess.
An ontologically-inflected ethnography may open partial connections with
“excess” if performed at “the limit,” which I conceptualize with R. Guha (2002,
7) as “the first thing outside which there is nothing to be found and the first
51
thing inside which everything is to be found.” A caveat: this nothing is in
relation to what sees itself as everything and thus exceeds it—it is something.
The limit is ontological; establishing it, a political-epistemic practice; beyond it
is excess, a real that is “nothing,” or not-a-thing accessible through culture or
knowledge of nature (as usual). At the limit, ways have to be invented, creating
ontological openings, ethnographic sites to conceptualize otherwise, in partial
connection with difference, which located at this complex site emerges as
radical difference, “Western” or “not.” This may be what the position paper calls
“difference within,” and which I phrase as the project to “de-otherize”
difference, for “other” is how difference emerges and is made understandable
within (or before) the limit, and hence within the same, even if a cosmopolitan
(and tolerant) same, capable of relating from/at home with “the other.”
Invented at the limit, conceived with a deliberately localized and ephemeral
toolkit, a difficult partial connection between “everything” and “nothing,”
conceptualizing radical difference-within politics (for example) is immanent to
ethnographic moments like the above, which travel with difficulty and are
hardly cosmopolitan. Instead, they offer the opportunity for cosmopolitical
concepts that, rather than tolerance, can provoke an irritatingly localized
capacity to provincialize nature and culture, and thus put them into political
symmetry with what is neither (culture or nature.) Thus, ethnographically
inquiring both within the cosmos and the political as usual, cosmopolitical
concepts may propose a radically different (because immanent) notion and
practice of politics capable of offering to that which “politics as usual” has
evicted from its field, the possibility to engage in relationships of symmetric
alliance or symmetric adversarialism and, as important, to emerge as non-
political or excessive to politics as well.
References
de la Cadena, Marisol. 2010. “Indigenous Cosmopolitics: Conceptual Reflections
Beyond 'Politics.'” Cultural Anthropology 25, no. 2: 334–70.
Guha, Ranajit. 2002. History at the Limits of World History. New York:
Columbia University Press.
Holbraad, Martin, Morten Axel Pedersen, and Eduardo Viveiros de Castro.
2013. “The Politics of Ontology: Anthropological Positions.” Position paper
52
for roundtable discussion. American Anthropological Association annual
meeting, Chicago.
Verran, Helen. 2013. “Engagements between Disparate Knowledge Traditions:
Toward Doing Difference Generatively and in Good Faith.” In Contested
Ecologies: Dialogues in the South on Nature and Knowledge, edited by
Lesley Green. Cape Town: HSRC Press.
53
Other Words: Stories from the Social
Studies of Science, Technology, and
Medicine
by Annemarie Mol
This article is part of the series The Politics of Ontology
The term ontology is sexy. These days, in parts of anthropology, it seems able to
promise the possibility of escape, of running ahead, of allowing academic work
to take a rollingavant-garde run. Ontology becomes a term by which to relate
the beauties and pains ofdiffering to that other magic word, politics. By all
means, if it inspires you, run with it. But allow me to tell you some stories.
Story Number One
For a long time, while anthropologists went out (from Cambridge or Rio de
Janeiro) into the rest of the world to study “other cultures,” Nature stayed
behind in the laboratory (in San Diego, Geneva, London) where it was studied
by natural scientists. However, at the very moment that anthropologists who
had gone “elsewhere” were finding that the Others did not necessarily have
“cultures” (or “natures”), natural science laboratories got invaded by their own
brand of ethnographers. And by the time we learned that some Others live
with/in many natures rather than the singular Nature of the natural sciences,
the lab-ethnographers emerged from the lab to say that what went on there had
little to do with finding facts about Nature after all. Instead, it was about such
specificities as purifying ferric chloride, measuring blood levels of thyrotrophin-
releasing hormone, or hunting quarks. Hence, a variety of great divides
(between scientists and primitives; the West and the Rest; culture and nature;
facts and fiction) got more or less simultaneously messed with in various ways.
The overall picture of how ethnographic studies of Others and ethnographic
studies of laboratories relate was never quite drawn. Their various plots do not
fit within a single scheme. There is no overall.
54
Story Number Two
After the lab studies had opened up facts, the clinic, too, looked different. Not
that clinics were into fact-finding: their aim was to improve the health of
patients, but this includes knowledge practices of varied kinds. I have done
hospital fieldwork in the Netherlands since 1979. Here is an example of what
came out of this work in the 1990s. What isanaemia? The textbook says it is a
deviant bodily condition and that there are various methods for knowing it:
listening to a patient’s complaints; observing her body; and measuring the levels
of hemoglobin in her blood. All these methods approach anaemia in their own
way. But do they? My fieldwork suggested otherwise. Rather than approachinga
single object in different ways, each of these methods enacts an object of its
own. In daily clinical practice, a patient’s complaints, the color of her eyelids,
and her hemoglobin level are all real enough, but they do not neatly map onto
each other. The different methods, rather than allowing for different
perspectives on a single (forever elusive) object, follow from, and feed into,
different (more or less painful) events. Other hospital ethnographers found
similar things. We mobilized the term ontology to bring out what was going on
here. In nineteenth-century Western philosophy, ontology was coined as a
powerful word for the given and fixed collection of what there is. For reality, in
the singular. But if each method enacts its own reality, it becomes possible to
put realities, and indeed ontologies, in the plural. It was a delightful, frightful
provocation.
What did it provoke? Putting ontologies in the plural is not relativism. The point
is notthat “it all depends from which side you look at it.” Instead, there is no
longer a singular “it” to look at from different sides. And while putting
ontologies in the plural indicates that reality is more than one, it may still
be less than many. For while the theoretical term, ontologies, is put in the
plural, the medical term, anaemia, is still singular. Our fieldwork showed that in
medical practices a lot of work is done to coordinate between versions of reality.
The politics, here, is not one of otherness. In a first instance, it is about fights;
not between people (a politics of who) but between versions of reality (a politics
of what). However, in a second instance, versions of reality that clash at one
55
point turn out to be interdependent a little further along. Ontologies are not
exclusive. They allow for interferences, partial connections. Sharing practices.
Story Number Three
Time goes on. In the twenty-first century, it appears (in my corner of academia)
that there are many theoretical things that the term ontology cannot do. As
originally this term got coined to designate what is, it was carefully emptied of
what Western philosophy callsnormativity. This means that the value of “what
is” does not form part of its essences, but relates to them as a secondary quality,
an afterthought. And the ideals that take distance from “what is,” the
counterfactuals suggesting “what could be,” do not form a part of ontologies at
all. Thus, while ontology—put in the plural ontologies—helps to shake up mono-
realist singularities, it is ill-suited for talking about many other things. Such as
the ways in which goods and bads are performed in practices, in conjunction
with pleasures, pains, ecstasies, fears, ideals, dreams, passions. Or the various
shapes that processes may take: causal chains; back-and-forth conversations;
tinkering and caring; and so on. And what about theorizing how fingers taste
when allowed to; what drugs afford to bodies and bodies do with drugs; migrant
ambitions and guarded borders in the Mediterranean; garment factories on fire
in Bangladesh; or soy for Dutch pigs being grown in the Amazon? To name just
a few examples. In some cases, it might be wiser (more enlightening, more
generative, more generous, and yes, even more provocative) to play with other
words.
Implicit References
Cussins, Charis. 1996. “Ontological Choreography: Agency through
Objectification in Infertility Clinics.” Social Studies of Science 26, no. 3:
575–610.
Despret, Vinciane. 2004. “The Body We Care for: Figures of Anthropo-zoo-
genesis.” Body & Society 10, nos. 2–3: 111–34.
Haraway, Donna. 1991. Simians, Cyborgs and Women: The Reinvention of
Nature. London: Free Association Books.
56
Haraway, Donna.
1997.Modest_Witness@Second_Millennium.FemaleMan©Meets_OncoM
ouse™. London: Routledge.
Jensen, Casper Bruun. 2012. “Anthropology as a Following Science: Humanity
and Sociality in Continuous Variation.” NatureCulture 1, no. 1: 1–24.
Knorr-Cetina, Karin. 1981. The Manufacture of Knowledge: An Essay on the
Constructionist and Contextual Nature of Science. Oxford: Pergamon
Press.
Latour, Bruno, and Steve Woolgar. 1979. Laboratory Life: The Social
Construction of Scientific Facts. New York: Sage.
Law, John. 2002. Aircraft Stories: Decentering the Object in Technoscience.
Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press.
Mol, Annemarie. 1998. “Ontological Politics: A Word and Some Questions.”
In Actor Network Theory and After, edited by John Law and John
Hassard. London: Blackwell.
Mol, Annemarie. 2002. The Body Multiple: Ontology in Medical Practice.
Durham, N.C.: Duke University Press.
Mol, Annemarie. 2008. The Logic of Care: Health and the Problem of Patient
Choice. London: Routledge.
Strathern, Marilyn. 1980. “No Nature, No Culture: The Hagen Case.” In Nature,
Culture and Gender, edited by Carol MacCormack and Marilyn Strathern,
174–22. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Strathern, Marilyn. 1991. Partial Connections. Savage, Md.: Rowman &
Littlefield.
Viveiros de Castro, Edwardo. 1992. From the Enemy’s Point of View: Humanity
and Divinity in an Amazon society. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.