I live with three women. Are we a public? That is my question. To answer it, I want to explore a few of Warner's qualifications as well as Habermaus's and Fraser's criteria, and consider my house's relevant public-ness.
Are we self-organized?
In some sense, yes. Our current state of sharing a house was not organized by any state or overarching power (such as a rental service); we found each other through mutual friends and Craigslist. Warner adds that the self-organization necessary to publics must revolve around discourse. In fact, he defines a public as "a space of discourse organized by nothing other than discourse itself" (Warner 50). In our house we certainly organize ourselves around other aspects than simply discourse, including jobs, mutual interests, expectations for cleanliness, etc., but arguably we are officially organized around a document-- our lease. This piece of text officiates our relationship to the house (no damage, no smoking, etc.), and lays down groundwork for our relationships with each other. We all take a stance towards this document, much like when Warner noted that members of a public maintain different reflexivities towards the circulating discourse (73). Do we, or do we not mind the clause about "no large house parties"? Our response shapes our public. As roommates, we may lose our qualification for public-ness because other elements besides discourse do structure our interactions, but one could argue that in any public, features emerge besides discourse which shape its identity (such as power relations between male and female members).
Are we a relation among strangers?
Not any more; it is difficult to maintain any level of estrangement when the members of said public frequently walk around with no pants or discuss sex lives. That said, we began as strangers united around a multimodal piece of discourse-- a Craigslist ad. I would qualify Craigslist ads as circulating discourse, because they constantly change and aim to unite individuals around common ventures. Generally, these pieces of discourse do not intend to create long-lasting relationships or affect large-scale change, but in the case of roommates, our advertisement carried a lasting weight.
Skipping a few of Warner's criteria, let's explore this one: are we a social space created by the reflexive circulation of discourse?
Our house on 10th does not publish any "intellectual newspaper" (as Habermaus called it), but we do circulate discourse in alternate ways, and our reflexive response to this discourse mediates our relationships with each other. For example, I pay the Internet bill. Every month, I write each member's totals on our fridge whiteboard (a central space in our public discourse), and they pay me then erase their name. An instance of a member refusing to pay me or erasing their name without paying me would certainly cause dissension and affect the nature of our public. Our unity is reliant on collaboration and parallel responses to such a piece of discourse. Another text which may qualify as "circulating discourse" is our ongoing group text message. Communication in this includes everything from, "Would someone please let the dog out?" to "Hey, I'm having friends crash in the living room tonight." The reflexive stance each one of us takes to this discourse shapes our public. I could refuse to let my roommates dog out, which could ruin the carpet, which would trigger higher legal consequences (i.e., being liable for floor damages.)
What else should we consider...
Publics must decide on their "general interests." Fraser notes how the terms public/private are not straightforward designations, but rather powerful terms to valorize and devalorize different topics. For instance, it is in the general interest of our house public to let the dog out; it's a simple task which builds rapport between the roommate who owns the dog and the rest of us, keeps the house clean, and creates camaraderie. We have decided that "letting the dog out" is a public interest, but we also could have decided it was a private interest and the dog's owner was solely responsible for her care (thus decreasing responsibility and obligation for the rest of us.) As roommates, we constantly negotiate these common interests.
Sharing a house does "bracket inequalities," an idea Fraser repeated often, because we all pay equal rent. No one individual has more share of the house than another. However, equality on paper does not directly translate to equality in practice. Those who have lived here longest have more experience with the house and landlord, and the two who lived here first chose the remaining two roommates, perhaps dequalifying our designation as self-organized. Those here longer have more furniture in the house, more art on the walls, more "prime real estate" in terms of rooms and shelves, etc. My point is, although certain pieces of text (like the same rental agreement we all sign) can seem to neutralize a public, "classes" almost inevitably emerge.
We do have the potential for subaltern counterpublics to emerge-- two of the four roommates could decide they don't like how the living room is arranged, and bring their petition to the other two, or simply rearrange while the other two are gone. Alternate discourses could arise, in the form of new pictures hung on the wall or (more drastically) a wall painted. We re-cast certain terms in order to understand them under a new light-- calling the next door neighbors the "bro house," for example, or nicknaming the mailman "Stephen" because we find him handsome (all Stephens are, obviously). We are most likely an enclave public, making choices and circulating communication that aims to further our closeness and relevant understanding of certain topics, rather than enact external change. That is, we aren't telling others outside our roommate circle how to best "do roommate life," although it does sometimes come up casually in conversation ("You're dealing with that? Well, we do x, y, z, and it seems to work..."). Certain phrases have talk value; calling the basement the "cave" vs. "the dungeon" (we use both) can clarify a member's current feelings towards the basement. Language and ideas emerge which mark us as a discourse community (the "hungry dryer" eats socks and waistband strings, the "fluffy potato" is the dog, etc.)
So, it seems that in many of these situations, we qualify as a "public," but rather than centered around discourse we center around daily cohabitation actions. In the end, in many ways, it seems publics aim to figure out just that-- how, on small local or large international scales, us humans are going to do life together.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Chickens, Eggs, and Public Constructions
Warner impressed me. Although many times I was dizzied by his circulatory chicken-and-egg conundrum style of writing, the form seemed to fit his topic—defining a public is no easy feat because publics are not static entities but rather reflexive, evolving, changing social and rhetorical situations constituted by discourse, personal agency, historical environments, relationships, estrangement, and sociopolitical strictures. My list is hardly exhaustive, which speaks to the truth that in a word, publics are complex. I could have added ten or twenty more influential forces which affect publics if I tried, probably even thirty or forty.
Although I’m tempted, this blog is neither the space nor occasion for a novel-length entry systematically analyzing Warner’s ideas. My Labrador has this hilarious reaction of cocking her head sideways with one ear nearly vertical, when hearing a sound she doesn’t recognize. In lieu of the analysis swimming around my head, let me offer a discussion of moments that caused me to tip my head sideways.
Warner writes, “To address a public, we don’t go around saying the same thing to all these people. We say it in a venue of indefinite address and hope that people will find themselves in it” (59). Warner is comparing the circulating types of public address to gossip. Gossip usually doesn’t seek to expand its social circle; when it does it often has detrimental results. Public address, on the other hand, continually seeks to reach the ears of listeners who lend it attention, relate to its message, and thus expand its referential public. The type of discourse implemented then, must be open-ended enough so a wide audience can relate, but specific enough so it distinguishes itself according to the intentions and ethic of the public for which it stands. I questioned how we go about attracting individuals by using different rhetorical techniques and methods. How do publics fine-tune discourse so it attracts a specific type of people—those who will stand behind their message? Further, how does one write these types of public addresses without alienating the other percentage that is not the intended target audience? Is it possible to compose in such a way that invites certain types of people while not uninviting others? Ironically, publics are both strong and delicate structures. The people that give a public life and agency are united and strengthened by the circulating discourse, but the discourse relies on the individuals to read, spread, and compose it. I cannot answer the chicken-and-egg question, because as Warner writes, “A public might be real and efficacious, but its reality lies in just this reflexivity by which an addressable object is conjured into being in order to enable the very discourse that gives it existence” (51).
Come again?
It would seem that publics and their referential discourse are inextricably tired; one cannot exist without the other. What does this mean for their origin? I am curious to explore, particularly by analyzing historical archives, where the emergence points for publics begin. Where do we see them starting? What precipitated their official “publicness”? I keep imagining someone saying, “We were just a group of friends who shared and discussed similar views [i.e., an enclave public], and then Connie started writing and publishing and next thing we knew people wanted to join us; we were a public!” I would imagine often times the discourse precedes the people. That is, an individual writes a piece of text, which unites individuals around the message and likewise around other, and kick starts the cyclical motion of a public. So many thoughts…
Okay, a few ending thoughts. Warner writes, “Talk value has an affective quality. You don’t just mechanically repeat signature catchphrases. You perform through them your social placement. Different social styles can be created through different levels of reflexivity in this performance” (73). On the topic of identity development in publics, every individual expresses and locates themselves through their stance and relationship to the circulating discourse. Therefore, it is not only what an individual says, but their corresponding relationship to the public addresses that distinguishes them rhetorically and shapes their discursive identity.
Also, “The discourse of a public is a linguistic form from which the social conditions of its own possibility are in large part derived” (75). That is, how they speak empowers what they can do.
Warner leaves us with a dense amount of information on which to ruminate, and I am sure his observations and theories will continue to apply throughout the course of this class (if not our lives at large.)
Although I’m tempted, this blog is neither the space nor occasion for a novel-length entry systematically analyzing Warner’s ideas. My Labrador has this hilarious reaction of cocking her head sideways with one ear nearly vertical, when hearing a sound she doesn’t recognize. In lieu of the analysis swimming around my head, let me offer a discussion of moments that caused me to tip my head sideways.
Warner writes, “To address a public, we don’t go around saying the same thing to all these people. We say it in a venue of indefinite address and hope that people will find themselves in it” (59). Warner is comparing the circulating types of public address to gossip. Gossip usually doesn’t seek to expand its social circle; when it does it often has detrimental results. Public address, on the other hand, continually seeks to reach the ears of listeners who lend it attention, relate to its message, and thus expand its referential public. The type of discourse implemented then, must be open-ended enough so a wide audience can relate, but specific enough so it distinguishes itself according to the intentions and ethic of the public for which it stands. I questioned how we go about attracting individuals by using different rhetorical techniques and methods. How do publics fine-tune discourse so it attracts a specific type of people—those who will stand behind their message? Further, how does one write these types of public addresses without alienating the other percentage that is not the intended target audience? Is it possible to compose in such a way that invites certain types of people while not uninviting others? Ironically, publics are both strong and delicate structures. The people that give a public life and agency are united and strengthened by the circulating discourse, but the discourse relies on the individuals to read, spread, and compose it. I cannot answer the chicken-and-egg question, because as Warner writes, “A public might be real and efficacious, but its reality lies in just this reflexivity by which an addressable object is conjured into being in order to enable the very discourse that gives it existence” (51).
Come again?
It would seem that publics and their referential discourse are inextricably tired; one cannot exist without the other. What does this mean for their origin? I am curious to explore, particularly by analyzing historical archives, where the emergence points for publics begin. Where do we see them starting? What precipitated their official “publicness”? I keep imagining someone saying, “We were just a group of friends who shared and discussed similar views [i.e., an enclave public], and then Connie started writing and publishing and next thing we knew people wanted to join us; we were a public!” I would imagine often times the discourse precedes the people. That is, an individual writes a piece of text, which unites individuals around the message and likewise around other, and kick starts the cyclical motion of a public. So many thoughts…
Okay, a few ending thoughts. Warner writes, “Talk value has an affective quality. You don’t just mechanically repeat signature catchphrases. You perform through them your social placement. Different social styles can be created through different levels of reflexivity in this performance” (73). On the topic of identity development in publics, every individual expresses and locates themselves through their stance and relationship to the circulating discourse. Therefore, it is not only what an individual says, but their corresponding relationship to the public addresses that distinguishes them rhetorically and shapes their discursive identity.
Also, “The discourse of a public is a linguistic form from which the social conditions of its own possibility are in large part derived” (75). That is, how they speak empowers what they can do.
Warner leaves us with a dense amount of information on which to ruminate, and I am sure his observations and theories will continue to apply throughout the course of this class (if not our lives at large.)
Tuesday, January 19, 2016
Post the First -- The Public as Evidence
If we follow Habermaus’ line of thinking, a public sphere is constituted by individuals who collectively gather and confer in order to create public opinions that have legs, so to speak. Distinguishing “mere opinion” from “public opinion,” he writes, “Though mere opinions (cultural assumptions, normative attitudes, collective prejudices and values) seem to persist unchanged in their natural form as a kind of sediment of history, public opinion can by definition only come into existence when a reasoning public is presupposed” (Habermaus 50).
This quote stood out, because it seems the current U.S. public sphere at this moment of history is comprised of individuals whom contemporary society deems worthy of the title “reasoning,” or reasonable/rational. Although I appreciated Habermaus’ differentiation between government and the public, and how he explained the importance of that distinction especially as it relates to a free exchange of information, I felt his perspective revealed exactly how participation and acceptance in the dominant “public” is largely delimited by individuals who abide by traditional Western standards of rationalism. Counter-publics certainly emerge with opposing epistemologies and alternate standards for discursive evidence, but when I consider what makes up “the public sphere” of the 21st century in terms of influence, I mostly see individuals who can prove to the world they hold a “rational” perspective (and these standards largely favor men.)
But, society is progressing. More and more individuals who counter traditional epistemologies that say who can and cannot have a public voice are emerging, and making waves to influence law and policy. And that type of work needs to continue. But that last part—influencing law and policy—I see as a primary type of work public spheres are able to accomplish. Habermaus wrote, “Only when the exercise of political control is effectively subordinated to the democratic demand that information be accessible to the public, does the political public sphere win an institutionalized influence over the government through the instrument of law-making bodies” (49). I see current public spheres as working to accomplish just that, the free exchange and spread of information. Every person and every public has a slightly different idea on how we should “do life” within a nation. Consensus usually begins at the starting point where every contributor to a given discussion knows the same as everyone else. Even if opinions and experiences differ, effective discourse usually begins when interlocutors can agree on certain things—that racism is still an issue, that we need alternative fuel sources, etc. Then, as more and more individuals and groups agree on certain types of information, it can affect public policy and law.
I find it intriguing that public opinion, in many ways, is the direct act of refusing to be wholly governed. That is, a public who never questioned their government’s rule or ethic would find no need for “public opinion,” because the ideologies of the ruling system would become their personal ideologies. Like Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, personal thought which diverged from the governing regime would be (nearly) nonexistent. “The public,” and within it sub-publics, are indicative reminders that individuals, though they may accept rule and governance, will never stop expecting and demanding that their personal convictions, ideas, and desires for life within a nation be heard, and recognized as having weight and value.
But, society is progressing. More and more individuals who counter traditional epistemologies that say who can and cannot have a public voice are emerging, and making waves to influence law and policy. And that type of work needs to continue. But that last part—influencing law and policy—I see as a primary type of work public spheres are able to accomplish. Habermaus wrote, “Only when the exercise of political control is effectively subordinated to the democratic demand that information be accessible to the public, does the political public sphere win an institutionalized influence over the government through the instrument of law-making bodies” (49). I see current public spheres as working to accomplish just that, the free exchange and spread of information. Every person and every public has a slightly different idea on how we should “do life” within a nation. Consensus usually begins at the starting point where every contributor to a given discussion knows the same as everyone else. Even if opinions and experiences differ, effective discourse usually begins when interlocutors can agree on certain things—that racism is still an issue, that we need alternative fuel sources, etc. Then, as more and more individuals and groups agree on certain types of information, it can affect public policy and law.
I find it intriguing that public opinion, in many ways, is the direct act of refusing to be wholly governed. That is, a public who never questioned their government’s rule or ethic would find no need for “public opinion,” because the ideologies of the ruling system would become their personal ideologies. Like Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, personal thought which diverged from the governing regime would be (nearly) nonexistent. “The public,” and within it sub-publics, are indicative reminders that individuals, though they may accept rule and governance, will never stop expecting and demanding that their personal convictions, ideas, and desires for life within a nation be heard, and recognized as having weight and value.
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