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Spatial Justice
Space, Materiality and the Normative presents new ways of thinking about the
connections between space and materiality from a normative perspective.
At the interface of law, social theory, politics, architecture, geography and
urban studies, the series is concerned with addressing the use, regulation
and experience of space and materiality, broadly understood, and in particular with exploring their links and the challenges they raise for law,
politics and normativity.
Forthcoming:
Urban Commons
Rethinking the City
Christian Borch and Martin Kornberger
A Jurisprudence of Movement
Common Law, Walking, Unsettling Place
Olivia Barr
Placing International Law
Authority, Jurisdiction, Technique
Fleur Johns, Shaun McVeigh, Sundhya Pahuja,
Thomas Skouteris, and Robert Wai
Spatial Justice
Andreas Philippopoulos-Mihalopoulos
Contents
Acknowledgements
ix
Introduction
15
29
38
107
151
viii
Contents
174
184
The islands
6.1 The first island 221
6.2 Are we there yet? The second island 228
6.3 Repetition: The double island 232
220
Bibliography
Index
237
259
Acknowledgements
Acknowledgements
Acknowledgements
xi
Introduction
Spatial Justice
against desire) that have placed us central and made us vacuous effigies of
human preponderance. Spatial justice emerges as withdrawal, namely a
body's moving away from its desire to carry on with the comfort offered by
supposedly free choices, power structures or even by fate. Withdrawal
simultaneously moves away from desire while following another desire for
spatial justice. Yet, there is nowhere to withdraw but deeper inside, a little
further this or that side. Withdrawal is not an escape but a shaking up of
desire in order to orient the legal space differently. To withdraw is to fight.
This fight needs tools, strategies, or even weapons. All of them operate
as ruptures, namely cracks of the continuum that allow renegotiation and
differential movement. The main rupture is withdrawal, which allows for
the emergence of a space of renegotiation and reorientation. This is closely
followed by the lawscape, a concept that has haunted my texts for the last
few years, reflecting the inherent yet tortuous way in which law and space
come together. Yet another is dissimulation, itself a rupture but with the
specific result of having bodies presenting themselves in different positions
than the ones they actually occupy. Another is invisibilisation and visibilisation, a video game of ontological presence rather than phenomenological
visuality that makes the lawscape more or less legal, more or less spatial.
Even this is a rupture of sorts, better hidden, indeed better dissimulated.
The other weapon is atmosphere, an enclosure of desire that brims with the
illusion of spatial justice. Finally, and paradoxically, the last weapon is that
of the continuum, which is used in plural forms, multiplying as lawscape or
atmosphere, both bringing us back from the illusions of rupture and
enabling ruptures to take place. Two things need to be clarified: these
notions ebb and flow, sometimes overlapping, mostly withdrawing from full
definition and from each other. Their definitions are never unitary but
always contextual, drawing from the assemblage in which they are found.
For many of them I offer various definitions, adding or substracting something from the previous one. The point of this is the desire not to fix things,
ethically or otherwise. This is the second thing that I must clarify: while
there is a strong and I hope obvious ethical direction in this book, I resist
falling into easy moralising traps. No concept, practice, or ideology can
claim an a priori ethical orientation. None of them is above strategising,
and none guarantees a specific outcome, whether positive or negative not
even the main concept of the book, spatial justice. Everything is correlative
to its assemblage. This does not mean that I subscribe to cultural relativism.
Rather, I am sensitised to the way concepts, practices and ideologies
become operationalised and fixed in specific spatiolegal conditions that
allow them to maintain the illusion of just, fair, proper and so on.
So, there is no outside. This is the guiding position, indeed the thesis of
the book. Faithful to its etymology, the thesis (=position, placement) that
negates the outside informs the way bodies, the lawscape, atmosphere, and
spatial justice position themselves in relation to each other, in a connection
Introduction
of movement, yet at the same time withdrawn from each other, ontologically different and never fully present. Emphatically, I am not dwelling on
the negative of the thesis but its positive: there is a continuum that contains
everything, including its own ruptures, conflicts, invisibilisations, dissimulations. This continuum is not some anything-goes well-wishing
culturally-relative flat ontology but a tilted, power-structured surface, on
which bodies move and rest and position themselves, thus affecting the tilt
while being affected by it. It is all about how bodies position themselves.
This thesis comes from my engagement with the writings of Spinoza,
Nietzsche, Deleuze, Luhmann, Grosz, Braidotti, Gatens, Negarestani,
Morton, Serres, Guattari, Lyotard, Derrida, object oriented ontologies as
well as environmental and ecological issues, posthumanist feminist theory,
embodiment, questions of identity and emplacement, architecture and
issues of materiality. While these and other theorists and theories appear
below, this text does not subscribe to one school of thought. It is neither
Deleuzian (despite appearances), nor Luhmannian, materialist, critical or
sociolegal. Nor does it engage in critique, in the sense of appraising
existing literature and commenting on its shortfalls (with the exception of
two instances where I felt I had to do this in order to defend the need for
my radically differentiated position). This text flows along the various
theories, respectfully (but not always) picking up flows of thought and
applications, without however making a meal out of theoretical loyalty or
opposition. If anything, this book attempts to be consistent with itself more
than with any specific theory. Not an easy feat, since the way I understand
consistency is as a surface of flows and confluences, but also ruptures in the
form of contradictions, openings, enclosures, incompleteness, singularities
that do not fit in, as well as the concept of continuum that mediates
everything.
The main thrust of the book is the concept and practice of spatial justice.
I define spatial justice as the conflict between bodies that are moved by a desire to
occupy the same space at the same time. This is neither merely distributive
justice, nor regional democracy, but an embodied desire that presents itself
ontologically. My goal is twofold: first, to think of the concept in a spatial,
corporeal, and generally material way. This is a reaction to most current
theorisations of spatial justice that, surprisingly, are too aspatial, with the
result that the concept becomes deprived of the radical potential offered
by understandings of space not only in geography but also architecture,
philosophy, quantum physics, feminism, ecological thought and so on. The
second goal is to think of the concept of spatial justice in a legal context.
The majority of theorisations focus on a broad, political understanding of
justice, ignoring its most obvious connection with law. This connection, as
I show especially in Chapters 5 and 6, contextualises spatial justice as a
process of legal reorientation rather than solution. I hasten to add that the
law I employ here is a spatialised law that does not dwell on the textual
Spatial Justice
(that too) but expands on the space and bodies that incorporate it and act
it out.
This law is the lawscape. Law and space cannot be separated from each
other. They are constantly conditioned by each other, allowing one to
emerge from within its connection to the other. Yet, this connection is
paradoxical, interfolding and excessive. It is not a connection of dialectical
interdependence but, as I show consistently throughout the book, a
folding of one into the other, a connection of non-causal enveloping that
allows each one to emerge depending on the conditions. The lawscape is the
way the ontological tautology between law and space unfolds as difference. This
takes place as a play of visibilisation and invisibilisation. A no-smoking sign
in a public space is a visibilisation of the law, but the free, open space of an
art gallery performs an invisibilisation of the law. In the first case, space
becomes a little more obviously regulated and thus cedes priority to the law.
In the second, space retains a faade of ambling and seemingly unconstrained unconstrained movement, free from legal presence. So at various
points a lawscape appears more or less legal, or more or less spatial. This
interplay is what allows a body to negotiate its position in the lawscape, to
affect the lawscape and ultimately to reorient it. Counter-intuitively,
in/visibilisation does not operate on a visual, phenomenological level, nor
does it assume a viewer. In/visibilisation is the ontological condition of the
lawscape, which goes beyond an epistemological/disciplinary connection
between law and geography.
In the lawscape, neither law nor space vanish completely. The lawscape
remains both law and space at all times, thus allowing a manoeuvring space
for the various bodies that constitute the lawscape to affect it in various
ways. Yet at points, the lawscape dissimulates its presence for as long as it
can, enlisting every trick in the book in order to do so. At these points, the
lawscape becomes atmosphere. Although the difference between lawscape
and atmosphere is a matter of degrees, since both belong to the same
spatiolegal continuum, the turning into atmosphere is a spectacular display
of smoke and mirrors. A cosy atmosphere at home is about the materiality
of bodies coming together around a dinner table, fully dissimulating the
fact that the private remains a lawscape. An oppressive atmosphere in a
prison is about the laws intensified presence that directs bodies in corridors of movement, fully dissimulating the materiality of the lawscape with
its possibilities of resistance and negotiation. In both cases, the lawscape
has become an enclosure that is no longer conditioned by mere in/visibilisation but by an intense dissimulation. Again, dissimulation is not a
phenomenological concept but an ontological one. It emerges as a rupture
in the continuum of the lawscape and operates on the level of ontological
withdrawal of the lawscape: it is self-dissimulation. It allows the lawscape to
dissimulate itself and become an atmosphere. Atmosphere is the lawscapes wet
dream. Every lawscape wants to become an atmosphere when it grows up.
Introduction
Spatial Justice
Although see Negarestani, 2008, on how we are moving underneath the surface of the
earth in a cthuloid movement of the war against the sun; and Colebrook, 2014, on the
death of the posthuman as the ultimate withdrawal from the atmosphere.
Morton, 2013: 17
Introduction
its emergence are monadic in the sense that they are ontologically singular
yet in a continuum of indistinction. These paradoxical formulations originate in my reading of autopoietic theory in combination with object
oriented ontologies.5 The crux of this books ontological take is this: while
always part of assemblages with other bodies, every body withdraws.
Whether this takes place through self-dissimulation, self-in/visibilisation,
or strategic planning, it remains an ontological fact and even necessity, as I
show in Chapter 5. Bodies are Leibnizian monads, houses without windows,
autopoietic units that remain ontologically withdrawn. No body ever
presents itself fully ontologically. Every body is a vastness, open to the actual
and virtual combinations of assemblages, contourless, amoeba-like. A part
of the vastness always withdraws. Think of human psychology, a coin, the
global financial system, your mobile telephone, climate change, life, death.
All are bodies, all are withdrawn. Access to a causal explanation, heads or
tails, a bank account, a touch-screen, a rainy July, a breath, or a skin cold to
the touch are mere epistemological concessions that offer the illusion of
knowing. The more we know about how bodies operate, the less we know
about bodies. Withdrawn bodies move and rest, differentiating one
another on the basis of their speed, nomadically clustering together in
temporary or less temporary assemblages. They associate with each other
and can orchestrate their withdrawal collectively or individually. But a
withdrawal is never an individual move. It always drags the world along.
This book does not engage with autopoietic theory for the purposes of withdrawal but
builds on my previous analyses, 2009 and 2013a.
The difference between morality and ethics has been put most clearly by Luhmann,
2004 and 1987. For Luhmann, ethics is an internalised, second-order observation of
morality that is interested in internal consistency rather than external fitting-in.
Morality, on the other hand, has a colonising effect that demands social uniformity. A
similar distinction has been made by Spinoza, 2000, for whom ethics is always situated
and yet mediated by the univocal continuum that for Spinoza is god.
Bennett, 2001 and 2010
Spatial Justice
8
9
10
11
12
13
Introduction
adding feminist and ethnographic insights.14 With such rich offerings, there
is not a great deal I can offer to the continuum except for the following four
points: first, the continuum is one yet several, and often overlapping. This is a
feature of most concepts in this book, namely a singularity and a plurality at
the same time. Lawscape as continuum means that there is only one
lawscape formed by space and law; yet the continuum fractalises into a flat
surface of multiple lawscapes, various cities, homes, rooms, jungles, planets,
all repeating the mechanism of in/visibilisation. Atmosphere is another
continuum which, however, becomes-other atmosphere in the case of rupture with the previous atmosphere. Finally, bodies are a continuum of
indistinction in terms of inherent value or moral importance. Yet, and this
is the second thing I add to existing theoretical continua: each body retains its
singularity through and despite its assemblage position. As I have already
mentioned, a body is not just relations. Although always in assemblages with
other human/nonhuman bodies, a body remains monadic, withdrawn from
the ontological continuum, either because of its multiple simultaneous
presence in various assemblages; or because of the contourless nature of the
body that is determined as much by assemblages as by its own power; or by
means of identity differentiation in the form of haecceity which is an
assemblage singularity as I show in Chapter 2; or finally because the body
uses the ontological feature of withdrawal strategically. A body always
withdraws.
The third reason for which the present continuum differs is the inclusion
of rupture. Since the continuum has no outside (there is no edge! We cant
jump out of the universe15), ruptures are ontologically included in the
continuum in the form of folds (that is, connections), in/visibilisations,
withdrawals, atmospheric enclosures that rupture the continuum. Ruptures
contribute to the continuity of the continuum by allowing it to gain
momentum and carry on spreading spatially and temporally. But why are
they needed? No outside means a vast inside that cannot be understood,
handled, colonised, manipulated. This inside is untenable for humans and
nonhumans alike. The continuum must be ruptured. And so we do: we split
it into rooms, property, territories, packs, relations, time. We split it into
human and nonhuman, races and genders, spaces of withdrawal and those
of visibilisation. These are Spinozan fictions, extensions of imagination that
are necessary for understanding.16 We dissimulate the immanence of the
continuum by hooking on the figurative nails on the wall the Cubists used
to paint on their paintings so that people could understand them and hook
on something when immersed in those overlapping surfaces of fragmen-
14
15
16
Gatens, 1996a and b; but see also Bennett, 2010; Hardt and Negri, 2004.
Morton, 2013: 17
Spinoza, 2009 and 2000
10
Spatial Justice
Hubbard, 2012
Gatens and Lloyd, 1999: 34
Brennan, 2004
Morton, 2013
Rilke, 1995: 381
Spinoza, 2000
Gatens and Lloyd, 1999: 3
Introduction
11
Hubbard, 2012
12
Spatial Justice
within the lawscape. It is a full, yet excessive, circle. Interspersed in the text
are discussions on the spatial responsibility of indistinction that take the
form of situatedness, which is particularly evident in the warped temporality and spatiality of the Anthropocene. There are also discussions on
time and repetition, objects as bodies, dissimulation as strategy, and the
posthuman as reality. All these emerge within the ruptured continuum of
this book.
Another clarification before I describe briefly the chapters. While I flirt
with law and geography, I do not necessarily consider this book to be part
of this literature. There are others who have done this much more systematically than I could ever do.25 The reason is that my focus is not geography
but space. I am not trying to establish a disciplinary dialogue but a postdisciplinary questioning, in an era where posthuman, anthropocene,
assemblages, objects and bodies have entered the quotidian vocabulary. At
the same time, this is not a philosophical work, despite the references and
occasional tenor of the text. The reason is that I am interested in the
applied and empirical side of concepts as much as their conceptualisation.
While what I call empirical here would not dare compare to the real
empirical studies on law and space out there, it attempts to ground concepts on non-conceptual situations. The empirical fields I use here are the
London lawscape, the Triveneto shepherd atmospherics, and Robinson
Crusoes literary island. Each field grounds, confirms, occasionally
contradicts but always extends the prior conceptual discussion respectively
on the lawscape, atmosphere and spatial justice, and pushes the discussion
onto the following step.
Every chapter opens up a different lawscape. Chapter 1 is still in some
respects introductory, and begins with its feet firmly on the ground of
current disciplinary attempts to reflect on space and law, but begins to swirl
dangerously when the question of the laws spatial turn arises. I question
the ability of the law to turn and what it would mean not just for the
discipline but also for space. I try this out, first by pointing at important
micro-turns that have happened in areas connected to law and space, and
which remain a deep inspiration for my work here; I carry on with a brief
critique of some of the existing literature for its rather simplified understanding of what space is and what spatiality can mean for the law; and then
by thinking about metaphorical uses of space, which although not
problematic in themselves, do not advance a material understanding of
either law or space. Materiality, however, is not the opposite of abstraction.
In the final section of the chapter, I deal with abstraction as a necessary
component of law and space theorisation on the basis of its political and
strategic relevance.
25
Delaney, 2010, is the obvious candidate for this. See also Braverman et al., 2013.
Introduction
13
Although the focus here is mainly on spatial considerations for emphatic reasons of
balance redressing, there is no denying that time must be taken into account in an
equally radical manner. Doreen Massey, 2005, has performed this balancing act
admirably, but I find that, at least in law, there is a greater need for a strong statement
on spatial relevance and a temporary withdrawal of time from the scene, until space
manages to present its case. This does not discount the temporal arguments, and indeed
I dedicate parts of the discussion to the temporality of the various concepts. It is just that
they will have to wait for a little while longer.
14
Spatial Justice