> On 02-Apr-2019, at 11:24 PM, Brian Holmes
> wrote:
>
> Because of this permeability, highly invasive techniques are continually
> designed and applied in order to get people to behave, not as their own
> system with its own autopoietic compass, but instead, as a subordinate or
> even determinate part of another, more malleable system. These techniques are
> turned upon individuals, communities, societies.
Hi Brian,
I gather from what you write that you agree with my quest for care of the
autopoietic self, the need to work from the inside out, and that the inevitable
gaze from within the system means that you can never perceive the whole system;
but the central question is how one resists the invasions of power from outside
that tend to subvert all of this. I fully agree that constructing an effective
resistance is critical, and that we must engage with the political dimension in
doing so. The question is how we go about it, and what tools we select for the
politics we need. I get the sense that we agree on ends but diverge a bit on
what we consider appropriate means.
Let me start with observing that this is a discussion thread on how one
‘manages’ complexity. I don’t really need to point it out given you are the
original provocateur of the thread but do so just to draw attention to the
inevitability of complexity. And this is where I start having concerns about
too great a reliance on the construction of structural models of the situation
as “an analysis that is crucial to action”, for to do so raises the danger of
losing touch with the fundamentals of complexity. My concerns are:
To attempt to capture the system in a single model is to resist complexity by
resorting to simplicity, whereas one must remain within a position of embracing
complexity.
One can lose oneself in a level of abstraction distanced to the point of
isolation from the practice of everyday life.
When the model dominates, the self can define itself only in reference to it
and faces the danger of erasing its own autonomy.
The desire to be comprehensive makes the model too heavy to be useful.
I draw attention to the fact that I do not object to constructing structural
models per se but am only concerned about having too great a reliance on them
to the point that one considers them crucial to action. I should also add that
in the previous post if I gave the impression that I sought to build a
dichotomy between open and closed systems, then I apologise that I did not
express myself clearly. I would eschew such a dichotomy and posit that it is a
shuttle between open and closed modes of being that is crucial. To elaborate,
let me propose that each of us lives at three levels of experience:
First-Person Experience: Where one is aware of one’s own body and mind as a
sentient being. The authenticity of being one feels here is unparalleled, for
it is not just a conceptual understanding, but a full sensory awareness that
validates one’s existence in the world.
Second-Person Experience: Where one interacts with other beings.
Third-Person Experience: Where one can comprehend concepts and systems that
exist beyond the levels of first- and second-person experience. This covers
conceptual models and notions of truth, and also covers aesthetics: skilled
artistic practitioners talk about being ‘possessed’ by their craft once they
achieve a certain level of mastery in it.
In “The View from Within”, the collection of essays on the study of
consciousness edited by Francisco Varela and Jonathan Shear, the editors’
introduction to the book observes that each of these levels of experience are
embedded within social and natural networks (the inevitable partial view from
within that lies at the heart of complexity). Therefore, each level cannot
hold by itself, and the movement back and forth between the levels is a process
by which each critiques, challenges, and thereby, validates the other. Put too
much faith in first-person experience, and one faces the danger of being
confined to a blinkered self-indulgent perspective that leads to systemic
fragility at wider levels of complexity. Put too much faith in third-person
experience, and the definition of the self is reduced to referential terms of
function or purpose, and the self’s autonomy goes unrecognised. The difference
with humans is that we are reflexive beings, we can not only engage with the
world, but we can also think about ourselves and the nature of that engagement.
We can be within our own autonomy, or we can conceptually step outside it. A
reliance on third-person experience encourages us to endanger our own autonomy
by anchoring ourselves outside it. The continued movement between all three
levels is important. Third-person concepts require validation by the
authenticity of the first-person level, and the potential narrow
self-indulgence of first-person experience needs the challenge of third-person
experience. S
