Recently, The New York Times ran one of those insipid “Ask the Celebrities” features by asking, “What will later generations find most objectionable about the culture of the early 2020s?” Most of the responses misconstrued the question by pointing to things that have been around for a very long time (“eating dead animals”). But a couple of replies caught my attention: selfies or self-obsessed postings was one and cancel culture another. Aren’t these things superficially opposites? The one craves attention at all costs, eschewing privacy and coveting the limelight. The other compulsively restricts interaction with another or with others. The one dotes on and broadcasts the self. The other hides or restricts access to oneself. We sense that these opposites are two sides of the same narcissistic culture. But in what sense? Is it simply that narcissism breeds, if not arrogance, at least oversensitivity to encounters that upset the fragile, projected self-image? After denuding oneself in public, one becomes vulnerable.
Perhaps these strange new developments make some sense when we shift the focus from who is at fault, from the personal to the interpersonal: what is going on? All of us perpetually engage in a kind of commerce with others that allows us to develop as persons and recompenses us for attention bestowed upon others with the attention they bestow upon us. Try going without it for a while and you will find that this interpersonal commerce is indeed the lifeblood of society without which individuals suffer as if some key commodity, fuel or food, had been restricted. But of course, this is a commerce in esteem which, though intangible, is vital to the flourishing of one and all.
Formerly, this commerce was carried on at what might be called the “village market” level. Every individual relied on a unique intimate circle for the commerce of recognition and feedback. But recently the distribution system has been drastically decentralized and at the same time globalized. In place of the unique “village market” of mutual esteem, we shift to the unique branding of the individual in the global marketplace of attention. It’s as if every region of the world now depended upon selling itself to the whole world, which in fact is the case in the vital commerce of tourism. The world is now my most esteemed customer. Every other region is my competitor. In place of the traditional quid pro quo, we have the Squid Game, a zero-sum mortal combat.
The prize has become immeasurably greater. So has the threat from a whole world of competitors. I react with the instinct inculcated by centuries of commodification. If this or that neighbor appears to threaten my vital global supply, which is the feedback that sustains my lifeblood of self-esteem, I break off trade relations with the threatening parties. If that fails and my instincts lead me to assign blame to my neighbors or next of kin, I might declare a war of annihilation and go down fighting. There is no shortage of weaponry. And a whole world of targets. The selfie, cancel culture, and the school or workplace shooting are phases of the single process of commodification and the social practices it imposes or encourages. With the globalization and atomization of interpersonal relationships comes a dilemma of navigating between self-gratification and devastation, with a loss of all sense of good faith, of trust in the goodwill of the other.
It’s often been said that capitalism leads to a war of all against all. The trajectory of the selfie-cancel-culture-mass-shooting is simply the latest and most extreme variant, exemplified by the mass shooter who draws inspiration from the internet and broadcasts his murder campaign in real-time. We are now all reserve soldiers in the war of all against all. It is as much a mistake to regard the selfie or cancel culture as mere personal flaws of vanity or spite, as it is to regard wars as failures of comity and insensitivity. Killing does diminish human sensitivity, but wars aren’t prevented by sensitivity training (though someone should take a look at the role of media violence in making killing seem both normal and entertaining).
The most telling measure of the destructive advancement of our intangible commodification might be its impact upon the most organic of all “village markets”: a loving nuclear family. We all know examples. The key challenge for the socialist imagination is the restoration of the social dimension of life from its commodified degradation. Socialists without societies are like sailors without seas.
Signed,
Andrew (Weeks)
Normal Thoughts 