In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Judith Butler’s “New Humanism”A Thing or Not a Thing, and So What?Sina KramerA few thinkers in the last few years, such as Stefan Dolgert and Miriam Leonard, but especially political theorist Bonnie Honig, have argued that Judith Butler’s most recent work (Antigone’s Claim, 2000; Undoing Gender, 2004; Precarious Life, 2005; Frames of War, 2009) institutes a new form of humanism, based on the universality of grief, mourning, vulnerability, and (...) precariousness that Butler describes in these texts. These critiques call into question an incipient foundationalism in the feminist political theory Butler produces in these texts, one seemingly at odds with her previous antifoundationalist commitments. In this article I will argue that, while these critiques oversimplify the relationship between politics and ethics or politics and ontology in their critique of Butler’s new mortalist humanism, the problem of the relation of politics to ethics or ontology—or, more exactly, the problem of the relation of politics to its outside, or to its conditions—remains nevertheless a real problem in Butler’s work. This is because, without a clear account of a method of rendering foundations contingent, or of rendering ontologies provisional, we tend to repeat the political move to establish an apolitical ground on which we can found a politic. This foundationalist move thus shields that ground from political critique and transformation—a move that Butler herself has done so much work to expose and displace.In this article, I ask whether feminist theory must repeat a recourse to foundations by examining the charge that Butler does so her in most recent work. The article will proceed as follows: in the first section, I examine the [End Page 25] charge that Butler is instituting a new humanism. In the second section, I look at some of Butler’s discussion of humanism, and look more closely at the relation between ethics and politics the question of humanism opens up in her work. In the third, I explore whether or not the charge that Butler is instituting a new humanism is correct. And in the fourth, I question what is at stake in this charge. Essentially, the article asks of this new humanist charge: Is this a thing or not a thing, and so what? I argue that, while the charge is somewhat overdetermined, it does point to a larger problem in Butler’s work, and that is the recourse to foundations, or to gesturing to an outside of or beyond of politics as the condition for altering political conditions. I will conclude by arguing that a greater attention to method can help to avoid the reification of the distinction between politics and its conditions that leads to the recourse of foundations.Butler’s New Mortalist HumanismIn her 2010 article “Antigone’s Two Laws: Tragedy and the Politics of Humanism”—as well as in her 2013 book Antigone, Interrupted—Bonnie Honig argues that Butler’s ethical turn institutes a new mortalist humanism, predicated on the “ontological fact of mortality, not the capacity to reason but the vulnerability to suffering” (Honig 2010, 1). She differentiates this new mortalist humanism, which she also diagnoses in the work of Nicole Loraux and Stephen White, from earlier rationalist forms of humanism that are based on the universal principle of human rationality, and from forms of antihumanism based on the “signs of a monstrous, dehumanizing animality” (Honig 2010, 3). Either form is problematic, Honig argues, insofar as they both seek to settle essentially political questions by recourse to a position beyond politics: through a stable and recognizably human figure who either secures its belonging to the polity by means of its rationality, or an exclusion rendered through the dehumanization of otherwise ostensibly human figures.This new mortalist humanism Honig diagnoses in Butler’s recent work falls into the same problem: in this version, Butler settles political questions by recourse to a principle of mortality, or the universal experience of mourning. This would seem to be contrary to Butler’s earlier commitments to a radical critique of foundationalism, especially in her famous critique of the naturalization of sex as the grounds for a political understanding of gender. This is... (shrink)

In this article, I rely both on Derrida's 1974 work Glas, as well as Derrida's 1971–72 lecture course, “La famille de Hegel,” to argue that the concept of the quasi-transcendental is central to Derrida's reading of Hegel and to trace its implications beyond the Hegelian system. I follow Derrida's analysis of the role of Antigone—or, as the lecture course has it, “Antigonanette”—in Hegel's thought to argue that the quasi-transcendental indicates a restriction of empirical difference into the transcendental, which is thereby (...) only ever provisionally transcendental. I then argue that the economy of difference indicated by the quasi-transcendental is neither a general economy, nor is it in each case singular, but rather it ambivalently oscillates between these two. Finally, I treat the temporality of the quasi-transcendental, arguing that the economy of difference indicated by the quasi-transcendental is not prior to the restriction of empirical difference, but is paradoxically produced by it by being retroactively constituted. I take up this analysis for the sake of describing what I contend is the quasi-transcendental structure of constitutive exclusion, a way of understanding the conceptual structure of political bodies, and the political structure of concepts. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Continental and Feminist Philosophical PedagogiesConditionsSina KramerIn thinking through what it means to teach continental and feminist philosophy, I keep coming back to a somewhat enigmatic line from Adorno’s essay, “Why Still Philosophy?”: “Because philosophy is good for nothing, it is not yet obsolete” (Adorno 2005, 15). I believe that this dialectical aphorism has everything to do with the conditions under which we as teachers practice philosophy today, and continental (...) and feminist philosophy in particular.On the one hand, Adorno’s remark is made in the context of the specific conditions—political, economic, philosophical, etc.—of his own time. On the other hand, Adorno writes that if philosophy is still necessary (and we should always take seriously this “if,” as well as the “not yet” of the quote above) then it is for the same reasons that philosophy has always been necessary: as critique. Philosophy is thus both spatially and temporally specific in that it plays particular roles in particular places and times, and it is universal in that its operation as critique has always been the same. We must therefore spell out the particular conditions of our historical moment in order for philosophy to play the critical role that it has purportedly always played. What are the conditions under which we teach continental and feminist philosophy today?I would point here to a few phenomena. First, President Barack Obama announced in his 2011 “State of the Union” address that in order for America to “win the future” we must invest in education, to reach the goal of having the [End Page 68] highest proportion of college graduates in the world by the end of the decade (Obama 2011). The president described investment in education as part of the larger of goal of supporting the competitive advantage of American workers. The president cast education in entirely economic terms: a greater quantity of graduates for the sake of a more economically prosperous nation.At the same time, some universities, especially those that depend in part upon dwindling state resources, have chosen to cut programs in the humanities in general or in philosophy in particular: at UNLV, at the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, or at Middlesex University.1 Under the logic of fiscal austerity, universities are deciding that they can no longer “afford” to keep departments that are losing money or, which may amount to the same thing, programs that are no longer central to the mission of the university.Finally, recent research indicates that only about one-third of all teachers in higher education in the United States are tenured or on the tenure track; teaching has been farmed out, outsourced, or subcontracted to a contingent labor force with less job security, lower wages, and fewer benefits than those on the tenure track.2 And shortly after the president’s “State of the Union” address, the book Academically Adrift and accompanying articles in the Chronicle of Higher Education and the New York Times argued that college students are learning less, according to measurable metrics, even as they are paying more—that is, going into greater debt—for a degree that is less and less a guarantee of a stable middle-class income (Arum and Roksa 2011; Glenn 2011a, 2011b).In his dialectical aphorism, Adorno seems to set up a contradiction between philosophy and utility, between learning as an end in itself, and learning as an instrument toward some other end—a contradiction that goes back as far as philosophy’s stories about its own origins, to Thales and the olive-press. But this contradiction must be examined in each context in which it is raised. For instance, W. E. B. Du Bois seems to set up the same contradiction in The Souls of Black Folk, when he writes that “the true college will ever have one goal: not to earn meat, but to know the end and aim of that life which meat nourishes” (Du Bois 1997, 86). While this seems like the statement of a universal truth, it must be understood in the context of the larger argument in Souls, in which Du Bois argues that black people have a right to an education as... (shrink)

Kristeva’s Revolution in Poetic Language offers a challenge to theories of the subject in psychoanalysis, linguistic theory, and in philosophy. Central to that challenge is Kristeva’s conception of negativity. In this article, I trace the development of the concept of negativity in Revolution in Poetic Language from its root in Hegel, to rejection, which Kristeva develops out of Freud. Both are crucial to the development of the material dialectic between the semiotic and the symbolic that makes up Kristeva’s subject-in-process/on trial. (...) I argue that a clearer understanding of Kristeva’s conception of negativity helps us to better appreciate the force of Kristeva’s challenge, both philosophically and politically. Finally I argue that Kristevan negativity also helps us to clarify the relation between the delimited space of politics and its conditions, laying the groundwork for constitutive exclusion as political critique and opening a space for the possibility of political re-constitutions. (shrink)