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L'Éternité
Donc tu te dégages
Des humains suffrages
Des communs élans
Et voles selon...
- Jamais d'espérance
Pas d'orietur.
Science et patience,
Le supplice est sûr.
Plus de lendemain,
Braises de satin,
Votre ardeur
Est le devoir.
A. Rimbaud
Slash
cut-up by N.
Disjuncture and Difference in the Global Cultural Economy
by
Arjun Appadurai
An important fact of the world we live in today is that many persons on the globe
live in such imagined 'worlds' and not just in imagined communities, and thus are able to
contest and sometimes even subvert the 'imagined worlds' of the official mind and of
the entrepreneurial mentality that surround them. The suffix scape also allows us to
point to the fluid, irregular shapes of these landscapes, shapes which characterize in-
ternational capital as deeply as they do international clothing styles.
By 'ethnoscape', I mean the landscape of persons who constitute the shifting world
in which we live: tourists, immigrants, refugees, exiles, guestworkers, and other moving
groups and persons constitute an essential feature of the world, and appear to affect
the politics of and between nations to a hitherto unprecedented degree. This is not to
say that there are not anywhere relatively stable communities and networks, of kinship,
of friendship, of work and of leisure, as well as of birth, residence and other filiative
forms. But that is not to say that the warp of these stabilities is everywhere shot
through with the woof of human motion, as more persons and groups deal with the reali-
ties of having to move, or the fantasies of wanting to move. What is more, both these
realities as well as these fantasies now function on larger scales, as men and women
from villages in India think not just of moving to Poona or Madras, but of moving to
Dubai and Houston, and refugees from Sri Lanka find themselves in South India as
well as in Canada, just as the Hmong are driven to London as well as to Philadelphia.
And as international capial shifts its needs, as production and technology generate
different needs, as nation-states shift their policies on refugee populations, these mo-
ving groups can never afford to let their imaginations rest too long, even if they wished
to.
'Ideoscsapes' are also concatenations of images, but they are often directly politi-
cal and frequently have to do with the ideologies of states and the counter-ideologies
of movements explicitly oriented to capturing state power or a piece of it. These ideo-
scapes are composed of elements of the Enlightenment world-view, which consists of a
concatenation of ideas, terms and images, including 'freedom', 'welfare', 'rights',
'sovereignty', 'representation' and the master-term 'democracy'. The master-narrative
of the Enlightenment (and its many variants in England, France and the United Sta-
tes) was constructed with a certain internal logic and presupposed a certain relation-
ship between reading, representation and the public sphere (for the dynamics of this
process in the early history of the United States, see Warner, 1990). But their dia-
spora across the world, especially since the nineteenth century, has loosened the inter-
nal coherence which held these terms and images together in a Euro-American
master-narrative, and provided instead a loosely structured synopticon of politics, in
which different nation-states, as part of their evolution, have organized their political
cultures around different 'keywords' (Williams 1976).
As a result of the different diaspora of these keywords, the political narratives that
govern communication between elites and followings in different parts of the world in-
volve problems of both a semantic and a pragmatic nature: semantic to the extent that
words (and their lexical equivalents) require careful translation from context to context
in their global movements; and pragmatic to the extent that the use of these words by
political actors and their audiences may be subject to very different sets of contextual
conventions that mediate their translation into public policies. Such conventions are
not only matters of the nature of political rhetoric (viz. what does the aging Chinese
leadership mean when it refers to the dangers of hooliganism? What does the South
Korean leadership mean when it speaks of 'discipline' as the key to democratic indu-
strial growth?).
These conventions also involve the far more subtle question of what sets of com-
municative genres are valued in what way (newspapers versus cinema for example) and
what sorts of pragmatic genre conventions govern the collective 'readings' of different
kinds of text. So, while an Indian audience may be attentive to the resonances of a
political speech in terms of some key words and phrases reminiscent of Hindi cinema, a
Korean audience may respond to the subtle codings of Buddhist or neo-Confucian
rhetorical strategy encoded in a political document. The very relationship of reading
to hearing and seeing may vary in important ways that determine morphology of these
different 'ideoscapes' as they shape themselves in different national and transnational
contexts. This globally variable synaesthesia has hardly even been noted, but it de-
mands urgent analysis. Thus 'democracy' has clearly become a master-term, with po-
werful echoes from Haiti and Poland to the Soviet Union and China, but it sits at the
center of a variety of ideoscapes (composed of djstinctive pragmatic configurations of
rough 'translations' of other central terms from the vocabulary of the Enlightenment).
This creates ever new terminological kaleidoscopes, as states (and the groups that
seek to capture them) seek to pacify populations whose own ethnoscapes are in mo-
tion and whose mediascapes may create severe problems for the ideoscapes with which
they are presented. The fluidity of ideoscapes is complicated in particular by the gro-
wing diasporas (both voluntary and involuntary) of intellectuals who continuously inject
new meaning streams into the discourse of democracy in different parts of the world.
This extended terminological discussion of the five terms I have coined sets the
basis for a tentative formulation aout the conditions under which current global flows
occur: they occur in and through the growing disjunctures between ethnoscapes, te-
chnoscapes, finanscapes, mediascapes and ideoscapes. This fomulation, the core of
my model of global cultural flow, needs some explanation. First, people, machinery,
money, images, and ideas now follow increasingly non-isomorphic paths: of course, at
all periods in human history, there have been some disjunctures between the flows of
these things, but the sheer speed, scale and volume of each of these flows is now so
great that the disjunctures have become central to the politics of global culture. The
Japanese are notoriously hospitable to ideas and are stereotyped as inclined to e-
xport (all) and import (some) goods, but they are also notoriously closed to immigra-
tion, like the Swiss, the Swedes and the Saudis. Yet the Swiss and Saudis accept
populations of guest-workers, thus creating labor diasporas of Turks , Italians and
other circum-mediterranean groups. Some such guest-worker groups maintain conti-
nuous contact with their home-nations, like the Turks, but others, like high-level South
Asian migrants tend to desire lives in their new homes, raising anew the problem of re-
production in a deterritorialized context.
Deterritoralization, in general, is one of the central forces of the modern world, sin-
ce it brings laboring populations into the lower class sectors and spaces of relatively
wealthy societies, while sometimes creating exaggerated and intensified senses of criti-
cism or attachment to politics in the home-state. Deterritorialization, whether of Hin-
dus, Sikhs, Palestinians or Ukranians, is now at the core of a variety of global funda-
mentalisms, including Islamic and Hindu fundamentalism. In the Hindu case for example
(Appadurai and Breckenridge, forthcoming) it is clear that the overseas movement of
Indians has been exploited by a variety of interests both within and outside India to
create a complicated network of finances and religious identifications, in which the pro-
blems of cultural reproduction for Hindus abroad has become tied to the politics of
Hindu fundamentalism at home.
At the same time, deterritorialization creates new markets for film companies, art
impressarios and travel agencies, who thrive on the need of the deterritorialized popu-
lation for contact with its homeland. Naturally, these invented homelands, which consti-
tute the mediascapes of deterritorialized groups, can often become sufficiently fanta-
stic and one-sided that they provide the material for new ideoscapes in which ethnic
conflicts can begin to erupt. The creation of 'Khalistan', an invented homeland of the
deterritorialized Sikh population of England, Canada and the United States, is one
example of the bloody potential in such mediascapes, as they interact with the 'internal
colonialisms' (Hechter, I 974) of the nation-state. The West Bank, Namibia and Eri-
trea are other theaters for the enactment of the bloody negotiation between existing
nation-states and various deterritorrialized groupings. The idea of deterritorialization
may also be applied to money and finance, as money managers seek the best markets
for their investments, independent of national boundaries. In turn, these movements of
monies are the basis of new kinds of conflict, as Los Angelenos worry about the Ja-
panese buying up their city, and people in Bombay worry about the rich Arabs from
the Gulf States who have not only transformed the prices of mangoes in Bombay, but
have also substantially altered the profile of hotels, restaurants and other services in
the eyes of the local population, just as they continue to do in London. Yet, most resi-
dents of Bombay are ambivalent about the Arab presence there, for the flip side of
their presence is the absence of friends and kinsmen earning big money in the Middle
East and bringing back both money and luxury commodities to Bombay and other
cities in India.
Such commodities transform consumer taste in these cities, and also often end up
smuggled though air and sea ports and peddled in the gray markets of Bombay's stre-
ets. In these gray markets, some members of Bombay's middle-classes and of its lum-
penproletariat can buy some of these goods, ranging from cartons of Marlboro ciga-
rettes, to Old Spice shaving cream and tapes of Madonna. Similarly gray routes,
often subsidized by the moonlighting activities of sailors, diplomats, and airline stewar-
desses who get to move in and out of the country regularly, keep the gray markets of
Bombay, Madras and Calcutta filled with goods not only from the West, but also
from the Middle East, Hong Kong and Singapore.
Returning then to the 'ethnoscapes' with which I began, the central paradox of
ethnic politics in today's world is that primordia, (whether of language or skin color or
neighborhood o of kinship) have become globalized. That is, sentiments whose grea-
test force is their ability to ignite intimacy into a political sentiment and turn locality
into a staging ground for identity, have become spread over vast and irregular spaces,
as groups move, yet stay linked to one another through sophisticated media capabili-
ties. This is not to deny that such primordia are often the product of invented tradi-
tions (Hobsbawm and Ranger, 1983) or retrospective affiliations, but to emphasize
that because of the disjuncture and unstable interplay of commerce, media, national
politics and consumer fantasies, ethnicity, once a genie contained in the bottle of so-
me sort of locality (however large) has now become a global force, forever slipping in
and through the cracks between state and borders.
But the relationship between the cultural and economic levels of this new set of
global disjunctures is not a simple one-way street in which the terms of global cultural
politics are set wholly by or confined wholly within, the vicissitudes of international
flows of technology, labor and finance, demanding only a modest modification of exi-
sting neo-Marxist models of uneven development and state-formation. There is a de-
eper change, itself driven by the disjunctures between all the landscapes I have discus-
sed, and constituted by their continuously fluid and uncertain interplay, which con-
cerns the relationship between production and consumption in today's global eco-
nomy. Here I begin with Marx's famous (and often-mined) view of the fetishism of the
commodity, and suggest that this fetishism has been replaced in the world at large
(now seeing the world as one, large, interactive system, composed of many complex
sub-systems) by two mutually supportive descendants, the first of which I call product
fetishism, and the second of which I call fetishism of the consumer.
As for the fetishism of the consumer, I mean to indicate here that the consumer has
been transformed, through commodity flows (and the mediascapes, especially of
advertising, that accompany them) into a sign, both in Baudrillard's sense of a simula-
crum which only asymptotically approaches the form of a real social agent; and in the
sense of a mask for the real seat of agency, which is not the consumer but the producer
and the many forces that constitute production. Global advertising is the key techno-
logy for the world-wide dissemination of a plethora of creative, and culturally well-
chosen,. Ideas of consumer agency. These images of agency are increasingly distor-
tions of a world of merchandising so subtle that the consumer is consistently helped to
believe that he or she is an actor, where he or she is at best a chooser.
The globalization of culture is not the same as its homogenization, but globalization
involves the use of a variety of instruments of homogenization (armaments, advertising
techniques, language hegemonies, clothing styles and the like) which are absorbed into
local political and cultural economies, only to be repatriated as heterogeneous dialo-
gues of national sovereignty, free enterprise, fundamentalism, etc. in which the state
plays an increasingly delicate role: too much openness to global flows and the nation-
state is threatened by revolt--the China syndrome; too little, and the state exits the
international stage, as Burma, Albania and North Korea, in various ways have done.
In general, the.state has become the arbiter of this repatriation of difference (in the
form of goods, signs, slogans, styles, etc.). But this repatriation or export of the de-
signs and commodities of difference continuously exacerbates the 'internal' politics of
majoritarianism and homogenization, which is most frequently played out in debates
over heritage.
Thus the central feature of global culture today is the politics of the mutual effort
of sameness and difference to cannibalize one another and thus to proclaim their suc-
cessful hijacking of the twin Enlightenment ideas of the triumphantly universal and the
resiliently particular. This mutual cannibalization shows its ugly face in riots, in refugee-
flows, in state-sponsored torture and ethnocide (with or without state support). Its
brighter side is in the expansion of many individual horizons of hope and fantasy, in the
global spread of oral rehydration therapy and other low-tech instruments of well-being,
in the susceptibility even of South Africa to the force of global opinion, in the inability
of the Polish state to repress its own working-classes, and in the growth of a wide ran-
ge of progressive, transnational alliances. Examples of both sorts could be multiplied.
The critical point is that both sides of the coin of global cultural process today are
products of the infinitely varied mutual contest of sameness and difference on a stage
characterized by radical disjunctures between different sorts of global flows and the
uncertain landscapes created in and through these disjunctures.
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CHAOS:
THE BROADSHEETS OF ONTOLOGICAL ANARCHISM
Chaos
Poetic Terrorism
All experience is local. Everything we see, hear, touch, smell, and taste is expe-
rienced through our bodies. And unless one believes in out-of-body experiences, one
accepts that we and our bodies are permanently fused. We are always in place, and
place is always with us.
Similarly, as we move through our daily routines, choose places to live, to work,
and to send our children to school, we are dependent on the nature of the specific
locality. Our bodies are bound by the laws of space and time, and—barring the deve-
lopment of Star-Trek-like teleportation—always will be. We cannot work in Buda-
pest and stop home for lunch in Paris. Our children cannot attend school every wee-
kday in Berlin and play soccer daily in Rome. We cannot get a tan on the Riviera in
the morning and ski in Aspen, Colorado right after lunch. As much as we may flirt
over the telephone or the internet, we cannot consummate a loving relationship, or
produce offspring through the most common and pleasurable method, without bringing
the space and time coordinates of two human bodies into synchrony. Moreover, we
are all very aware of how long it takes to commute to and from a work office or to travel
to an international conference. The travel time is real, even when we work with or pre-
sent conference papers about virtual space and telecommunications.
In short, no matter how sophisticated our technologies are, no matter how much we
attempt to multi-task, we cannot be in two places at the same time. The localness of
experience is a constant. And the significance of locality persists even in the face of
massive social and technological changes. Our most basic physical needs for shelter
and food must be met locally. Even in the era of online shopping and just-in-time
delivery, there is still no convenience quite like the local convenience store.
The Generalized Elsewhere
Enduring localism, however, does not negate the reality of globalization. Nor does
the essential localness of experience negate the significance of forms of communica-
tion that seep through walls and leap across vast distances. For although we always
sense the world in a local place, the people and things that we sense are not exclusively
local: Media of all kinds extend our perceptual field. And while all physical experience
is local, we do not always make sense of local experience from a purely local perspecti-
ve. Various media give us external perspectives from which to judge the local. We may
be mentally outside, even as we are physically inside.
The work of Charles Horton Cooley and George Herbert Mead makes the
convincing case that even the human sense of self is not defined by the physical boun-
daries of our bodies. The self, they argue, is a reflected concept. It develops as we
come to see ourselves as social objects. That is, we understand the social “meaning” of
our behaviors and words as we imagine how others are imagining us. The self develops
through our perceptions of other people’s perceptions. Cooley refers to this as “the
looking-glass self.” Mead speaks of “the generalized other” from whose perspective we
view and judge our own behavior and utterances. He also describes “significant o-
thers,” those people with whom we have particularly important relationships and whose
imagined views of us are especially powerful.
The notion of a reflected self is related to media and locality in at least two ways.
First, media have extended the boundaries of experience so that those whom we per-
ceive as significant others or as part of the generalized other are no longer only the
people we experience in face-to-face interaction. People from other localities also ser-
ve as self-mirrors. Although this “mediated generalized other” does not eliminate our
reliance on locality and the people in it for a sense of self, it dilutes and modifies it.
Moreover, even within the general locality, those in our immediate physical proximity—
inhabitants of our neighborhoods, and even of our homes—have progressively less in-
fluence on our self-image as we increasingly use mobile and immobile phones, email, and
various modes of transportation to maintain contact with others who are more distant,
but still relatively local and physically accessible.
Second, by giving us perspectives external to the locality, media expand our per-
ception of what I call “the generalized elsewhere.” The generalized elsewhere serves as
a mirror in which to view and judge our localities. We are now more likely to understand
our place, not just as the community, but as one of many possible communities in which
we could live. We are less likely to see our locality as the center of the universe. We
are less likely to see our physical surroundings as the source of all of our experiences.
Even for those of us who feel deeply connected to a locality, we are now more
likely than in past centuries to think of where we live as it is imagined from elsewhere.
We may, for example, think of our locality as being north of or south of somewhere
else; or as being more liberal or more conservative than, older or newer than, more or
less exotic than, colder or warmer than other places.
Consciousness of both self and place demands at least some sort of minimally
external perspective. For most citizens of the globe, however, external perspectives
are no longer minimal. Today’s consciousness of self and place is unusual because of
the ways in which the evolutions in communication and travel have placed an intercon-
nected global matrix over local experience. We now live in “glocalities.” Each glocality
is unique in many ways, and yet each is also influenced by global trends and global
consciousness.
As recently as the Golden Age of Radio in the United States an entire radio
drama could be based on the mystery and danger surrounding a trip from New York
to California. (Such was the case with Orson Welles’ The Hitchhiker, first broa-
dcast in 1941, which was hailed as a classic of the medium.) Yet, at the start of the
television era in the U.S., TV programs provided live hookups of scenes of New
York and California. This began the process of demystification of cross-country
travel and of distant parts of the country and the world. The same demystification of
distant locales via television has occurred in many other countries.
Today, with hundreds of TV channels, cable networks, satellite systems, and
millions of computer web sites, average citizens of all advanced industrialized societies
(and many not so advanced societies) have images in their heads of other people, other
cities and countries, other professions, and other lifestyles. These images help to sha-
pe the imagined elsewhere from which each person’s somewhere is conceived. In that
sense, all our media—regardless of their manifest purpose and design—function as men-
tal “global positioning systems.”
The global view that modern media engender often alters the meaning of interac-
tions in the locality. In the past, workers in a factory, women at home, children in school,
and patrons of a neighborhood shop typically conceived of their behaviors as taking
place in local space and in keeping with what anthropologist Clifford Geertz has cal-
led “local knowledge.” Pleasure and pain, conflict and communion were thought to oc-
cur in the factory, the family home, the school, and the neighborhood. Problems with a
supervisor, a spouse, a teacher, or a shopkeeper were once most likely to be viewed as
personal difficulties between individuals. Today, however, the mediated perspective
from elsewhere, or “view from above,” redefines many local problems into “social issues”;
that is, into struggles between more abstract “social categories.” When a promotion is
denied, it is now likely to be linked to sex discrimination or racism; a problem with a hu-
sband is likely to be defined in terms of spouse abuse or sexism. Similarly, when someo-
ne is annoyed by the smoking behavior of the individual at the next table in a restaurant,
it is now likely to be viewed less as an issue of individual habit or as individual lack of
courtesy than as part of the larger battle between smokers and non-smokers (or even a
battle between health activists and global conglomerates). Thus, although most intense
interactions continue to take place in specific physical settings, they are now often per-
ceived as occurring in a much larger social arena. The local and the global co-exist in
the glocality.
Not that long ago, a move from one city to another was marked by a loss of, or at
least major changes in, contact with family, friends, and the overall texture of daily expe-
rience. However, as more of our interactions and experiences have become mediated
through radio, TV, telephones, email, and other devices, we can now transport most of
our nexus of interactions with us wherever we go. To the extent that people, using
phones and email, construct individualized social networks (or what Sidney Aronson,
writing about telephones in 1986, termed “psychological neighborhoods”), the
“community of interaction” becomes a mobile phenomenon. It does not exist in any
physical space. For certain types of work—particularly those that involve writing or
creating on the computer, either individually or collaboratively—even our co-workers
may stay the same when we move to another city or country.
These changes do not obliterate connections to places. Indeed, they may even
enhance some aspects of connection to physical location. Now that a move from one
locality to another has a diminished impact on our networks of contacts with other
people and places, we can choose the places we live based on other criteria. We incre-
asingly choose our localities and react to them in terms of such variables as setting and
appearance: weather, architecture, quality of schools, density of population, available
entertainment, general appearance, even “love at first sight.” And we may check the
wisdom of our choices by checking the ratings of our selected locales in printed and
online guides to the “best places to live.”
Locality as Backdrop
Although we now often choose a place more carefully than people did in the past,
our interactions with place have come to resemble what Relph calls, in a somewhat dif-
ferent context, “incidental outsideness” and “objective outsideness.” That is, the more
that our sense of self and experience is linked to interactions through media, the more
that our physical locales become the backdrops for these other experiences rather
than our full life space. Other than that we must be in some place while we have various
mediated experiences, there is no essential connection between the physical setting we
are in and the mediated experiences we are having in that location. Indeed, on mobile
phone calls, we often finding ourselves describing, in a manner that makes sense from a
distance, where we are and what we were doing before the call began. Thus, we are, in
a way, both inside and outside the locale at the same moment.
The current more “romantic,” yet ultimately relatively superficial attachments to place
encourage more frequent relocations. The global dimensions of any glocality, after all,
can be retained even as a locality is abandoned for another. Travel is also more easily
managed as distant places seem less strange and less dangerous and as contacts with
those “back home” (or anywhere) can be maintained wherever we roam.
Multi-
Multi-Layered Identities and Situational Definitions
The media-networked glocality also affords the possibility of having multiple, multi-
layered, fluid, and endlessly adjustable senses of identity. Rather than needing to cho-
ose between local, place-defined identities and more distant ones, we can have them all,
not just in sequence but in overlapping experiences. We can attend a local town zoning
board meeting, embodying the role of local concerned citizen, as we cruise the internet
on a wireless-enabled laptop enacting other non-local identities. And we can merge the
two as we draw on distant information to inform the local board of how other communi-
ties handle similar issues and regulations. All the while, we can remain accessible to
friends, family, and colleagues from anywhere via a text-message enabled mobile phone.
Boundary Disputes
The pre-electronic locality was characterized by its physical and experiential boun-
dedness. Situations were defined by where and when they took place. The definitions
of situations (that is, the answer to the question: “What is going on here?”) could, in
sociologist Erving Goffman’s phrase, “saturate” a time- and space-defined setting.
Now such boundedness requires some effort: Turn off the mobile phones, PDAs,
and laptops. Banish radio and television. Schools and churches continue this strug-
gle to make “a space apart.” Couples alone together in intimate settings often engage
in the same effort. In many instances, the “rules of distraction” are now explicitly nego-
tiated (e.g., “emergency calls only,” “silence the ringers on your phone,” “text-
messaging will be considered cheating on an exam”).
More permeable situational boundaries affect more than the particular behaviors
within them; they also reshape social identities in general. It is extremely difficult to
maintain some of the traditional distinctions in life experiences that characterized the
modern, print-era society. In a print era, for example, the different levels of coding of
text served to isolate children from the informational worlds of adults and even from
children of different ages. Now, such distinctions are much more difficult to preserve.
Children are routinely exposed to what was long considered “adult information.” In a
place-defined culture, it was also possible to separate men’s places from women’s pla-
ces. At the height of influence of Western print culture, for example, the Victorians,
emphasized the distinction between the public male realm of rational accomplishments
and brutal competitions, from the private female sphere of home, intuition, and emo-
tion. Now, our electronic media bring the public realm into the home, and bring intimate
topics, images, and sounds into the public sphere.
Not long ago, a few key demographic variables could largely predict a large chunk
of the activities and social identity of a person. Today, while many class and economic
differences remain, the patterns of distinction are not as clear. Indeed, I would argue
that it has never been more difficult than it is now to predict what a person will know or
be doing based on traditional demographic variables. A few decades ago, if we knew
that a person was 16 years old, African-American, female, and living in rural Georgia
in the U.S., we’d have a good idea that she’d have an informational world and would
be engaged in daily activities similar to those of her peers and completely different
from those of a white, male, 18-year-old, living in a suburb of New York City and his
peers. Now, it’s much more likely that people of the same demographic categories will
be different from each other while also overlapping in knowledge, behaviors, and e-
xpectations with those of different demographic categories. Although advertising re-
searchers keep coming up with increasingly sophisticated ways to segment the popula-
tion into demographic clusters for the targeting of ads, the real trend is the rise in indi-
vidual idiosyncrasy.
Such changes in the senses of “us” vs. “them” and in “here” vs. “elsewhere” are neither
inherently good nor inherently evil. Yet, they are significantly different from older, pla-
ce-bound experiences. We both lose and gain. We lose the old comfort and simplicity
of being in bounded systems of interaction where our “insider” role is taken for gran-
ted. Yet, with a wide array of electronic media, including the mobile phone, we are also
liberated from the same bounded and confining experiences. We are free to choose
our own networks for membership and our own customized levels of engagement in e-
ach network. We are free, as well, to shape our degrees of connection to local space.
La Società dello Spettacolo
Guy Ernest Debord
(Cap. 1- La Divisione perfetta)
E senza dubbio il nostro tempo... preferisce l’immagine alla cosa, la copia all’originale,
la rappresentazione alla realtà, l’apparenza all’essere... Ciò che per esso è sacro non è
che l’illusione, ma ciò che è profano è la verità. O meglio, il sacro si ingrandisce ai suoi
occhi nella misura in cui al decrescere della verità corrisponde il crescere dell’illusione,
in modo tale che il colmo dell’illusione è anche il colmo del sacro.
2. Le immagini che si sono staccate da ciascun aspetto della vita, si fondono in un uni-
co insieme, in cui l’unità di questa vita non può più essere ristabilita. La realtà conside-
rata parzialmente si dispiega nella propria unità generale in quanto pseudo-mondo a
parte, oggetto di sola contemplazione. La specializzazione delle immagini del mondo si
ritrova, realizzata, nel mondo dell’immagine resa autonoma, in cui il mentitore mente a se
stesso. Lo spettacolo in generale, come inversione concreta della vita, è il movimento
autonomo del non-vivente.
3. Lo spettacolo si presenta nello stesso tempo come la società stessa, come parte
della società, e come strumento di unificazione. In quanto parte della società, esso è
espressamente il settore più tipico che concentra ogni sguardo e ogni coscienza. Per il
fatto stesso che questo settore è separato, è il luogo dell’inganno visivo e della falsa
coscienza; e l’unificazione che esso realizza non è altro che un linguaggio ufficiale della
separazione generalizzata.
5. Lo spettacolo non può essere compreso come l’abuso di un mondo visivo, il prodot-
to delle tecniche di diffusione massiva di immagini. Esso è piuttosto una Weltan-
schauung divenuta effettiva, materialmente tradotta. Si tratta di una visione del mondo
che si è oggettivata.
6. Lo spettacolo, compreso nella sua totalità, è nello stesso tempo il risultato e il pro-
getto del modo di produzione esistente. Non è un supplemento del mondo reale, il suo
sovrapposto ornamento. Esso è il cuore dell’irrealismo della società reale. Nell’insieme
delle sue forme particolari, informazione o propaganda, pubblicità o consumo diretto
dei divertimenti, lo spettacolo costituisce il modello presente della vita socialmente do-
minante. È l’affermazione onnipresente della scelta già fatta nella produzione, e il suo
consumo ne è corollario. Forma e contenuto dello spettacolo sono ambedue l’identica
giustificazione totale delle condizioni e dei fini del sistema esistente. Lo spettacolo è
anche la presenza permanente di questa giustificazione, in quanto occupazione della
parte principale del tempo vissuto al di fuori della produzione moderna.
7. La separazione fa parte essa stessa dell’unità del mondo, della prassi sociale globa-
le, che si è scissa in realtà e in immagine. La pratica sociale, di fronte alla quale si pone
lo spettacolo autonomo, è anche la totalità reale che contiene lo spettacolo. Ma la
scissione in questa totalità la mutila al punto da far apparire lo spettacolo come il suo
scopo. Il linguaggio dello spettacolo è strutturato con i segni della produzione imperan-
te, che sono nello stesso tempo la finalità ultima di questa produzione.
10. Il concetto di spettacolo unifica e spiega una gran diversità di fenomeni apparenti.
Le loro diversità e i loro contrasti sono le apparenze di quest’apparenza socialmente
organizzata che dev’essere essa stessa riconosciuta nella propria verità generale.
Considerato secondo i suoi veri termini, lo spettacolo è l’affermazione dell’apparenza
e l’affermazione di ogni vita umana, cioè sociale, come semplice apparenza. Ma la criti-
ca, che coglie la verità dello spettacolo, lo scopre come la negazione visibile della vita;
come negazione della vita che è divenuta visibile.
11. Per descrivere lo spettacolo, la sua formazione, le sue funzioni e le forze che ten-
dono alla sua dissoluzione, bisogna distinguere artificialmente degli elementi insepa-
rabili. Analizzando lo spettacolo, si parla in una certa misura il linguaggio stesso dello
spettacolare, in quanto si passa sul terreno metodologico di questa stessa società
che si esprime nello spettacolo. Ma lo spettacolo non è niente altro che il senso della
pratica totale di una formazione economicosociale, del suo impiego del tempo. È il
momento storico che ci contiene.
16. Lo spettacolo sottomette gli uomini viventi nella misura in cui l’economia li ha to-
talmente sottomessi. Esso non è altro che l’economia sviluppantesi per se stessa. È il
riflesso fedele della produzione delle cose e l’oggettivazione infedele dei produttori.
17. La prima fase del dominio dell’economia sulla vita sociale aveva originato, nella defi-
nizione di ogni realizzazione umana, un’evidente degradazione dell’essere in avere. La
fase presente dell’occupazione totale della vita sociale da parte dei risultati accumulati
dell’economia,
18. Là dove il mondo reale si cambia in semplici immagini, le semplici immagini diventano
degli esseri reali, e le motivazioni efficienti di un comportamento ipnotico. Lo spettaco-
lo, come tendenza a far vedere attraverso differenti mediazioni specializzate il mondo
che non è più direttamente percepibile, trova normalmente nella vista il senso umano
privilegiato, che in altre epoche fu il tatto; il senso più astratto, più mistificabile, corri-
sponde all’astrazione generalizzata della società attuale. Ma lo spettacolo non è iden-
tificabile con il semplice sguardo, anche se combinato con l’ascolto. Esso è ciò che
sfugge all’attività degli uomini, alla riconsiderazione e alla correzione della loro opera.
È il contrario del dialogo. Dovunque c’è una rappresentazione indipendente, là lo
spettacolo si ricostituisce.
20. La filosofia, in quanto potere del pensiero separato, e pensiero del potere separa-
to, non ha mai potuto da se stessa andare oltre la teologia. Lo spettacolo è la ricostru-
zione materiale dell’illusione religiosa. La tecnica spettacolare non ha dissipato le nubi
religiose, in cui gli uomini avevano collocato i propri poteri distaccati da se stessi: essa li
ha semplicemente ricongiunti a una base terrena; così è la vita più terrena che diviene
opaca e irrespirabile. Essa non rigetta più nel cielo, ma alberga in sé il proprio rifiuto, il
proprio fallace paradiso. Lo spettacolo è la realizzazione tecnica dell’esilio dei poteri
umani in un al di là; scissione realizzata all’interno dell’uomo.
21. Più la necessità viene ad essere socialmente sognata, più il sogno diviene necessa-
rio. Lo spettacolo è il cattivo sogno della moderna società incatenata, che non esprime
in definitiva se non il proprio desiderio di dormire. Lo spettacolo è il guardiano di que-
sto sonno.
22. Il fatto che la potenza pratica della società moderna si sia staccata da se stessa, e
si sia edificata un impero indipendente nello spettacolo, non può spiegarsi che con
quest’altro fatto, che questa potente pratica continuava a mancare di coesione ed era
rimasta in contraddizione con se stessa.
23. È la più vecchia specializzazione sociale, la specializzazione del potere, che è alla
radice dello spettacolo. Lo spettacolo è quindi un’attività specializzata che parla per
l’insieme delle altre. È la rappresentazione diplomatica della società gerarchica innanzi
a se stessa, dove ogni altra parola è bandita. Il più moderno qui è anche il più arcaico.
26. Con la divisione generalizzata del lavoratore e del suo prodotto, si perde ogni pun-
to di vista unitario dell’attività svolta, si perde ogni comunicazione personale diretta tra
i produttori. Seguendo il progresso dell’accumulazione dei prodotti divisi e della con-
centrazione del processo produttivo, l’unità e la comunicazione divengono attributo
esclusivo della direzione del sistema. Il successo del sistema economico della separazio-
ne è la proletarizzazione del mondo.
27. Per la riuscita stessa della produzione separata in quanto produzione del separato,
l’esperienza fondamentale, legata nelle società primitive a un lavoro principale, sta spo-
standosi al polo dello sviluppo del sistema, verso il non-lavoro, l’inattività. Ma questa
inattività non è per nulla liberata dall’attività produttiva: dipende da essa, è una sotto-
missione inquieta e ammirativa alle necessità e ai risultati della produzione: è essa stes-
sa un prodotto della sua razionalità. Non ci può essere libertà al di fuori dell’attività, e
nell’ambito dello spettacolo ogni attività è negata, esattamente come l’attività reale è
stata integralmente captata per l’edificazione globale di questo risultato. Così l’attuale
“liberazione dal lavoro”, l’aumento dei divertimenti, non costituiscono in alcun modo
liberazione nel lavoro, né liberazione di un mondo modellato da questo lavoro. Nulla
dell’attività rubata nel lavoro può ritrovarsi nella sottomissione al suo risultato.
29. L’origine dello spettacolo è la perdita dell’unità del mondo; e l’espansione gigante-
sca dello spettacolo moderno esprime la totalità di questa perdita: l’astrazione di ogni
lavoro particolare e l’astrazione generale della produzione d’insieme si traducono per-
fettamente nello spettacolo, il cui modo di essere concreto è giustamente l’astrazione.
Nello spettacolo, una parte del mondo si rappresenta davanti al mondo, e gli è superio-
re. Lo spettacolo non è che il linguaggio comune di questa separazione. Ciò che lega
gli spettatori non è che un rapporto irreversibile allo stesso centro che mantiene il loro
isolamento. Lo spettacolo riunisce il separato ma lo riunisce in quanto separato.
31. Il lavoratore non produce più se stesso, egli produce una potenza indipendente. Il
successo di questa produzione, la sua abbondanza, ritorna al produttore come abbon-
danza dell’espropriazione. Tutto il tempo e lo spazio del suo mondo gli divengono e-
stranei con l’accumulazione dei suoi prodotti alienati. Lo spettacolo è la mappa di que-
sto nuovo mondo, mappa che copre esattamente lo spazio del suo territorio. Le forze
stesse che ci sono sfuggite si mostrano a noi in tutta la loro potenza.
33. L’uomo separato dal proprio prodotto sempre più potentemente produce esso
stesso tutti i dettagli del proprio mondo. Quanto più la vita è ora il suo prodotto, tanto
più è separato dalla propria vita.
Matchbox
Are you more real than me
I’ll burn you, & set you free
Wept bitter tears
Excessive courtesy
I won’t forget