Free Time! Ludicity and the Anti-work Ethic
Laura MartzClose to midnight one evening in May 1968, as a Parisian neighborhood along the Seine lay sleeping, there materialized in the street a group of jesters. At midnight a collection of Marx Brothers movies was set aflicker across the dormant cityscape. Now the jesters began a riotous march through the street, banging on pots, blowing whistles, banging drums. Presently the local young people appeared and joined the procession...and then, the older, more "respectable" people began to awake and emerge from the apartment buildings. Some of these people were seduced and leapt exuberantly into the fray. Some others promptly got on the phone to the flics. But for awhile, as lore has it, the no longer quite young cavorted in the suburban streets of Paris in their bathrobes with the May generation; torches were lit, boats moving past down the Seine bellowed greetings with horns, drivers pulled over to join the throng...And then, of course, the police arrived and broke everything up, carted some off and chased others away. The neighborhood went back to bed, and to work the next morning. But how would any of these people ever be able to forget the hilarity and fun they had had that night when play and abandon took over? Would their lives ever really be the same?
--as told on the Internet anarchy-list
To sustain itself, consumer capitalism relies on (1) the maintenance of an outdated survival imperative and work ethic, and (2) a totalizing commodification and consumerism, which necessitates work beyond perceived survival needs. Play has been diametrically opposed to work (defined as wage labor), coded as decadent within the sphere of rationality and radically excised. One's time off the clock is allegedly the proper realm of play. Yet under consumer capitalism this time is cleverly commandeered for other means as intrinsic to keeping the machine running as the activities engaged in under the watchful eye of the clock.
Play will be defined here only loosely, as all that which is diametrically opposed to and excluded by work (its elements of delight, surprise and affect will be preserved). Bataille conceives of a general economy of global energy flows which inevitably generates a surplus of energy which must be expended. Under capitalism, excess (human energy not necessary to survival) is diverted into accumulation and endlessly-climbing profits for the ruling class. Yet for Bataille the proper object of the expenditure of this energy is dissipation, "nonproductive expenditure": "[translation] into the effervescence of life." Play is a fitting expediture; put another way, this nonproductive expenditure defines another aspect of play crucial to the following argument. Play is the refusal of regimentation, supervision and clocks. In this sense, play is a precondition for resistance, which demands time and energy for spontaneity, contemplation, communication, and unity. Play must be recovered.
Reintroducing play into adult life would necessitate the rupture of what Debord called the spectacle (so as to open the way for other species of meaning besides exchange value) and the recovery of some unity for life against the separateness of present conditions, especially the effacement of the boundary between art and life (in order to despecialize and render accessible more forms of activity). Both of these aims were part of the project of the Situationist International. This paper will attempt to reexamine the ideology which keeps time divided between producing and consuming in a situationist light, chipping away at it in the process, and begin to suggest some possibilities for reclaiming time from work.
"Never work!"The survival imperative in the technologized world as a rationale for wage labor is an alibi used to legitimate capitalist profit and thus domination and alienation. That the worker does excess work (more than demanded by her own, or anyone's, necessity, and more than she is paid for) is a law of capitalism. Capitalist profit is the reification of this excess labor, which is either channelled into the reinforcement of the status of the ruling class or redirected into capital accumulation. The worker will never be paid more than she or he needs to survive and remain fit to work. This axiom was altered slightly with the need to metamorphose the worker-producer into a consumer when off the clock. Henry Ford introduced the five-dollar day in the recognition that with the surplus being produced as a result of increased efficiency under industrialization and Taylorization, the consumer market needed to be "vertically expanded": workers, most of the population and thus putatively the predominant buyers of products, needed excess income with which to absorb the system's waste output. (Workers also needed incentive to stick with Ford at first, when other employers did not yet enforce his scientific management principles, which the workers found demeaning and tiresome. They were forced into step, nevertheless, as scientific management rapidly took hold everywhere.) The purpose of the "consumer wage" is thus to keep the machinery of capitalist overproduction in motion.
The consumer must be conditioned from birth to hand over the "excess" wage in exchange for the excesses of capitalist production. In the early twentieth century the new requirement of capitalism became the total cultural control of workers outside the workplace (when their role changed to that of consumers), through the new advertising industry, as well as in it. Advertising is perhaps the most obvious mode of spectacular ideology. The spectacle holds workers in thrall, teaching them in what is called their "free" time that their desires can be satisfied through consumption. The upkeep of the capitalist economic system thus finally encroaches on all our waking hours.
Half a century after the development of advertising and consumerist ideology, the situationists held that the "society of the spectacle" (commodities, art-as-commodity, the mass media, the entertainment industry) alienates its "spectators," who are condemned to do nothing more than watch themselves, experiencing satisfaction (but not really) only through the mediation of the commodity. The spectacle steals every experience and sells it back to us, but only symbolically, so that we are never satisfied: via this mechanism we support the machine of endless consumption over and over.
Play is thought of as the opposite of "work." Yet under the existing order play is officially allowed only children and the workers of play-as-spectacle, which is not play. It is reified through the professionalization of select people as "athletes," "artists" or "entertainers." These physical, creative activities are reserved for "professionals," who must sell the product of their "play" as spectacle. As observed by the Bureau of Control (pamphleteers from Houston, Texas), in the realm of "art" behavior is tolerated that would not be in the "real world." Play in the "working world" is diverted, channeled off as "art," contained as decadent behavior in the mainstream of life. Children are punished in school for playing except at scheduled break time, as training for the radical split between what one is ordered to do and what one might like to do.
Furthermore, to play professionally today and live off it, one must be able to command a mass audience and license the spectacle-commodity to a hierarchy of managers and owners, each of whom creams off an ascending percentage of profit from the "work" (for that is what this "play" has been converted or inverted into). "Performance" is now also always subject to endless monitoring and control by the professional judges and censors.
According to the situationists, the desire for experience is "continually commodified and in turn wrenched free from spectacular relations in a perpetual struggle for its realisation." This axiom is beautifully manifest in the US in 1993 in a Nike commercial. A young, white actor boasts, "My name is Fletcher and I work as little as possible." The company slogan "Just Do It" appears on the screen in wavy acid-green letters on a hot-pink background. We have here the co-option and price-tagging by the spectacle of the anti-work, pro-play ethic of the situationists' American brethren, the hippies; presented simultaneously with the suggestive phrase: just do it! (Just try LSD! Just blow up that military installation!) But in this case, "just do it" is only supposed to mean "just buy this hundred-dollar pair of shoes."
The supreme irony of capitalism might be that an anti-production and anti-capitalist ethic can be used to promote capitalist interests, by inducing people to consume through teasing them with oppositional desires. In the operation of the Nike ad, giving in to anticapitalist desires ("working as little as possible") is OK, and what's more, it's achievable through consumption (which is to say, not at all, except through a commodity fantasy). But someone who understands how advertising works will be able to separate the commodity from the impulse the ad attempts to link with it and examine that impulse for the symptom it is.
Only those who do work can afford to buy products like this. Nike obviously perceives a grain of dissatisfaction with the capitalist system and channels it into support of that system. But we can be sure dissatisfaction with the status quo is alive and well when the status quo has to commandeer it. I see this ad as targeting that US media-generated grouping called "Generation X" or "slackers." They are constructed as an un- or under-employed, downwardly-mobile group of recent college graduates. As the mass media have it, the state of the economy, US politics in the 1980s, the condition of the ecosystem, and growing up in suburbia have made them skeptical of capitalism's lures and promises, its ideology of bourgeois ambition. Made aware of their status as a demographic category through advertising and its supporting media, they have been co-opted by the spectacle and used to sell upscale goods like cars, though it is unclear to whom--those more ambivalent "cynics" (cf. Sloterdijk, discussed below) of the same age and class grouping, one suspects.
These people are would-have-been-desirable consumers (and employees) gone bad. They're not suitably ambitious (sometimes they almost resemble their European counterparts, the "unemployed generation"--who, because they could, founded autonomist scenes) to make capitalism comfortable, and allegedly cannot get and/or do not want the lucrative jobs that are their inheritance. They are interesting because they seem so skeptical about capitalism as the promised road to happiness, so uninvested in the ideology that keeps it going.
In his Critique of Cynical Reason, Sloterdijk suggests that those who would resist have fallen into a cynical non-action. Contemporary cynicism has internalized the enlightenment's privileging of reason. Enlightenment thought held that through the use of reasoned argument (peaceable discourse whereby consensus would be reached since everyone would defer to whichever position has the soundest argument behind it) people can improve the conditions they live under. This might be called the ideal of progress (or progressiveness). Sloterdijk defines enlightenment as the hope of being happy; it is this part of its project with which cynics are disillusioned. Cynicism is "enlightened false consciousness" because it lives as if falsely conscious, though it is "enlightened" enough to see through ideology. It lives in opposition to its beliefs because 20th century enlightenment history has made it despair of implementing them for the good. The cynic has not quite given up on the idea of improving things, but lives as if s/he has. She has seen the destruction wrought in the name of and with the aid of rationality. The cynic lives in the shadow of the bomb "expecting the worst," dismantling capitalism only on a discursive level.
Because enlightenment cannot make ideology engage in reasoned dialogue (enlightenment's own mode of working, whereby each party is willing to relinquish lesser positions in the name of rationality), it gives way to ideology critique. "Because they do not want to talk to us, we have to talk about them." Ideology critique's mistake is to focus its attack only on the "corpse" of ideology, reduced to its ideas, instead of launching an ad hominem argument. In other words, instead of getting directly in its face, operating on its live body, present-day critique argues on the level of discourse, ideality, head--whereas the kynic, like Diogenes, argues only on the level of the body.
Properly considered, says Sloterdijk, ideology critique is heir to the kynical tradition of satire. The problem of cynical criticism is that it has severed laughter, "in order to win its position in books as 'theory.' " The danger in an ideology critique which does not acknowledge its role as satire," says Sloterdijk, is that it too easily becomes an ideology itself--an instrument of dogmatism. Too concerned with consistency and totalization, it is unwilling to laugh at and revise itself, stay in motion, and so it ossifies. Sloterdijk suggests that, precisely because dialogue is impossible, we need to laugh, or better fart, in the giant's face like Diogenes--adopt a body-philosophy. Western culture has split the mind from the body and privileged it over its "container." The kynic Diogenes appears as a decadent, shocking figure, jacking off in the marketplace. The kynical gesture is the bodily decadent gesture. The cynic has refused the body in accordance with ideology, and wears the suit and tie of recent leftism versus the naked breasts of the student protestors in late 60s Paris.
Cynicism is a pervasive mode of disillusioned survival. Sloterdijk's project is to recuperate enlightenment in the sense of a collective struggle forward by giving cynics a kynical shot in the arm. Kynicism and "situationism" (one of its forms) refuse to take things too seriously in their ludic practices of resistance. Sloterdijk calls for a return to embodiment, the reintroduction of the body into thought. We must live our philosophy and our politics.
The situationists continue to find imitators and disciples among a new generation. Can the disillusioned (forgetting about the shoes but remembering to just resist capitalist ideology) be somehow inspired toward a kynical mode of living over against capitalism? They have already been encouraged, perversely enough, by the spectacle to perceive themselves as a formation, and thus a potential force.
"Mankind will not be free until the last capitalist has been hung from the entrails of the last bureaucrat."
Situationist theory (cf. Guy Debord, The Society of the Spectacle) called for the smashing of the spectacle's hypnotic power and the reclaiming of desire. Time (because of work, consumption and consumer training), playfulness (because of an obsolete work ethic), and desires divorced from commodities have been lost under the present system. The situationists offer some still relevant strategies for recovering the third, and in the process the second. Subjects, they argued, are not wholly duped or cowed; they passionately desire back their chance at life--"life," that is, as used by situationist theorist Vaneigem in opposition to "survival," roughly analogous to Marx's freedom and necessity respectively--which is visible but separated from them behind the glass of the shop window. They resent capitalism's theft of the control of and access to meaning, and rebel against commodification and spectacularization. The situationists called for revolution in the realm of everyday life, to wrest back all that which lay suppressed, but not dead, under the weight of the spectacle and the archaic lies of productivity and comfort used to keep the machine of capitalist profit churning. Tactics were devised for undermining the spectacle and simultaneously conjuring up a space of wonder, surprise and agency.
The structure of society demanded change, but instead of deferring revolution--as they accused established branches of the left of doing--the situationists demanded it out now, in the realm of the everyday and immediate. The SI were the scribes and jesters of the May 1968 revolts, providers of slogans, posters and graffiti which kept the possibility of revolution in the field of vision of everyone in the Paris streets. ("I believe in the reality of my desires because I take my desires for reality." "Under the sidewalk lies the beach!") They constructed spontaneous public happenings--"situations"--on the premise that passersby who were drawn into the esctasy of ludic mayhem for a moment would be forever after dislocated somewhat from the dead banality of their lives, having seen how life could provide the unexpected, unthinkable and delightful. This is how play can undermine the existing order. The power of the situation as a weapon against the spectacle: people return to the spectacle, but their frames of reference have been slightly altered. There has been a disruption of the spectacle which keeps capitalism's "subjects" paralyzed, unsatisfied but unsure why. The public gaze is diverted from the spectacle; the desire for experience is addressed outside the realm of exchange.
How to Play: Situationist Games(1) Create situations, thus reappropriating control over the direction and object of the gaze, as well as the informed choice of sensory input, as opposed to life under the spectacle.
(2) Unitary urbanism, related to situations. "It is our thesis that cities should embody a built-in play factor. We are studying here a play-environment relationship." The science of psychogeography begins with attention to the sensory and psychical impact of environments--architecture, smells, sounds, ornamentation, etcetera, and their sum, ambiance. Such attention is instructive, as it proves that surroundings do affect experience and quality of life and shows possibilities for the modification, planning, and conscious use of environments for chosen experiences and ambiances. The design of a more permanent environment based on psychogeographical findings is known as unitary urbanism.
(3) Drive, or drift, is the method by which one takes up psychogeographical information and enjoys the variety of ambiances in the city. It is a kind of fleneurism, but (owing to the era it occurs in, postmodern, auto-mobile, electronic) it is resistant and subversive, since it disrupts traffic flow and the (capitalists') intended uses of the street. (Cf. Michel De Certeau on transhumance and walking in city space as utterance.) Drift has no goal, no telos; as an expenditure outside rationality and productivity, in the terms of capitalist production, it is excessive, decadent movement. Enough driveurs could force traffic to a halt.
(4) Detournement, or distortion. Alter an advertisement, a drawing, or another document, distorting its originally intended meaning. "If the new meaning dominates or at least disturbs the meaning perceived by the reader of the original, the desired aim is achieved. It may involve a sudden awareness, an invitation to reflect, to doubt, or at least to participation in the game that will produce a certain detachment from the thing criticized... all the more effective... in context of an event, production, etc. that already possesses an audience." The spectacle's power is used to undermine it. Detournement is akin to Baudrillard's suggested tactic of talking back to the spectacle (he calls it the media): according to Baudrillard, since its power lies in the fact that its communication is one-way, merely commenting on an advertisement with a magic marker renders communication two-way again.
I want to argue that the reason situationist tactics brought about no revolution is that they had no strategy for repossessing the fundamental energy of workers which capitalism usurps and translates into profit: lived time, reified and commandeered. The dedicated situationist requires the abandonment of all work, the better to give oneself over to play--for, as surrealist Andre Breton said, "only the idle can be at the complete disposal of chance." And here is a difficult problem left unresolved. How that most crucial stolen element of life, necessary to all others--time--might be recovered for anyone not already battened on capitalist profits and thus in the position to really quit work under the present system was never addressed. As Ivan Stang points out in his introduction to Bob Black's Abolition of Work, Black isn't purporting to explain how to stop working, he's ranting on why. The same holds for the situationists. After all, the latter question is much easier to answer. It is fine to be a champagne socialist, if we are all given an equal chance at the bottle. Without solving this problem, the situationist project is doomed to be of extremely limited use, and only for a small segment of the population which suffers less than most under capitalism.
I must now briefly invoke Bataille's theory of general economy and conditions in Western Europe to illustrate one solution for recapturing time under a partially capitalist system, albeit one whose conditions of possibility are nonexistent in the US. Autonomist communities have been built in Western Europe, inside and outside the cities, since 1968, out of the excess resources of capitalism: empty buildings and land (and squatting rights laws), plus cash from state assistance, were the raw materials for the construction of semi-permanent autonomous zones. While welfare benefit laws and anti-squatting laws are tightening, the infrastructure is in place and resources, though scarcer than in the 70s and 80s, are still to be had. Here, through barter, volunteerism, and collectivity, and a resolutely antiprofit system (plus the indispensable individual monthly check siphoned from the paychecks of the wealthy), individual employment is obsolete and one's time is largely one's own. It is surely no accident that virtually all radical political movements in countries like Germany, Holland and Denmark are nurtured inside, supported by and affiliated with the autonomist housing and economic system. Thanks to the existence of the welfare state, independent income is not a prerequisite for crossing over. A welfare state does seem to be a precondition for founding parallel communities under capitalism open to all, and indeed perhaps the one the US must achieve before any kind of anticapitalist solution can be thought through here. For a global (i.e. statewide) diversion--as opposed to at the individual or family level--of the excess of capitalism, such as the dole, can be used to undermine capitalism itself, loosen its chokehold on individuals, and fund experimentation with alternative economic formations.
In the absence of auspicious conditions for diverting the resources held by capitalism, an ambulatory, nomadic playfulness may be a useful situationist legacy. The topology of real space is crooked, so the overarching surveillance machine cannot see every cranny, cannot coopt everything, at least not instantaneously, not yet. In Temporary Autonomous Zones (1992), Hakim Bey and the Association for Ontological Anarchism exhort the temporary squatting of zones of autonomy away from the eyes of the surveilling state: this must pass for immediate revolution and autonomy, since revolution in the sense of dismantling the state is now seen to be impossible. Bey holds that there are pockets in the landscape hidden from control, which can only partially cover its uneven terrain: uncharted spaces which can serve as temporary zones of autonomy. Bey deliberately leaves specific forms of the TAZ vague, but the obvious flourishing of TAZ activity must be noted here. Pirate media is a TAZ, especially when mobile. It is almost always temporary; staying transitory is the way not to get caught by the state. A TAZ can be a festival (non-corporate-sponsored, of course), a performance or installation, a prank. For autonomist theorists BILWET (The Foundation for the Advancement of Illegal Knowledge), the squatted house is a TAZ avant la lettre, a site for brief and euphoric, subjective or rather multisubjective "space travel." Their 1990 book on the Amsterdam squatters' movement (more or less synonymous with the autonomist scene) celebrated early squatting's appropriation and use of space, the squatters' trying on of multiple subjectivities and their explosion of the spectacle through spontaneous riots. But what kind of change can TAZs effect? Do we really have no further choice than to become nomads, forever on the run, briefly squatting a TAZ space and then disappearing like hobos before they can find what we've done and take it away from us? Since there is no longer any space left uncharted on the present global map, we must squat the geography of time. TAZ strategy is an acknowledgment that altering the total system no longer looks like a viable plan.
But TAZ activity can create ruptures, like the situationists used to, perhaps helping others to realize the deadness of existence under the split--to recognize the little horrors of capitalism which have perhaps been given short shrift lately alongside the massive perpetuation of iniquities and destruction, to which so many seem to have become anaesthetized and to which so many feel so far removed (owing in no small part to the spectacle). The TAZ refuses to argue with ideology, intent as it is on making its good time. Perhaps if people can be awakened to a defiant space outside consumption, they might find fresh energy to resume some sort of battle. Would simple individual resistances on a mass scale and general loss of enchantment with the "fun" capitalism offers us renew impetus for a breakdown, for some kind of change? It should be worth trying to find out. If the colonies expand, if the ranks of autonomists swell, perhaps they will encroach on the zones of surveillance, challenge them, extend roots, and become permanent autonomous zones.
In 1973 members of a San Francisco situationist group were picked up by the police for pasting up a poster (Bey, 22). After verifying the accuracy of the names and phone numbers, the police released them. "The gullibility factor in all this was astonishing--it's amazing how one can exploit the conventional media just by re-deploying letterheads and logos...The whole point is: it's simply a matter of using existing communication channels to one's own advantage..."
Laura Martz is a doctoral student at Carnegie Mellon University in Literary and Cultural Theory.