#title Commoning
#author George Caffentzis and Silvia Federici
#SORTauthors George Caffentzis, Silvia Federici
#source [[https://www.plutobooks.com/9780745339405/commoning-with-george-caffentzis-and-silvia-federici/][Pluto Books]]
#lang en
#pubdate 2023-11-16T16:28:44
#sku RD04
#cover g-c-george-caffentzis-and-silvia-federici-commonin-46.jpg
‘We need to struggle, perhaps more than ever, given the magnitude and the character of the current destruction of everything – nature, society, culture, the very social fabric allowing us to live together. We need compas. We need, particularly, comrades with a clear sight and an open, affective heart. Many of us have found in George Caffentzis and Silvia Federici that company. They have led and accompanied us in many struggles, big and small, in great events and mobilizations or in small coffee talks. And here they are, to celebrate them, with an exceptional cohort of intellectuals/activists, with compas, who are saying today what needs to be said to continue the struggle, to resist the horror and to create a new world’.
– Gustavo Esteva, activist, ‘deprofessionalised intellectual’ and founder of Universidad de la Tierra in Oaxaca, Mexico
‘This collection offers an extraordinary kaleidoscope of critical reflections on social reproduction and class struggle. More than that, it is fitting testimony to the inspiration and grounding that Silvia and George continue to provide for those seeking a life beyond the sway of capital’.
– Steve Wright, author of Storming Heaven:
Class Composition and Struggle in Italian Autonomist Marxism
‘No one has taught us more, and more generously, that communism is with us than George Caffentzis and Silvia Federici. Indeed, to be in their presence, to be with their writing and interviews, is to feel intimately the social wealth we are struggling to defend and expand in the face of the geocidal and genocidal plans of the policy class and its backers. That we are the sources not only of that wealth but also of the social transformations necessary to survive in abundance, this is the insight, the lifeline, the hug we receive from the greatest living theorists of commoning’.
– Stefano Harney, coauthor of The Undercommons:
Fugitive Planning and Black Study
‘In this labour of love, radical theory joins passionate praxis to honour the social thought and political vision of Silva Federici and George Caffentzis, whose work together and apart offers hope that another world can be made.’
– Eileen Boris, coauthor of Caring for America: Home Health Workers in the Shadow of the Welfare State
It is said that in the period of the First World War, in a bar in Zurich, Vladimir Illich Lenin and Tristan Tzara met, without ever having associated before. The language of Lenin tried to create the world with the strength of the will, of law, of power. Tzara used language as irony, as the creation of worlds in which will, law and power were suspended. If they had understood each other, the twentieth century would have been lighter. If they had been friends, they would have undertaken the construction of small crafts able to navigate on the ocean of chaos: rafts for all the exiles who travelled away from the arid and warlike lands of late-modern capitalism. - Franco ‘Bifo’ Berardi, Felix Guattari: Thought, Friendship and Visionary CartographyWe were plunged in these first decades of the twenty-first century into the desperate darkness of seemingly permanent crisis and war. Like the beginning years of the last century, so much of how we transform our present planetary condition now depends on whether we find ways to understand the languages and experiences necessary to create worlds; on how we build crafts with which to navigate across an ‘ocean of chaos’ and toward one other; on what shared basis we gather among friends - ‘all the exiles who travelled away from the arid and warlike lands of late-modern capitalism’ - and learn from one another the arts of collective itinerancy and consistency.[48] The pall of war casts ominously over the world, but perhaps far-flung midnight illuminators can still help steady us toward a different horizon. This Festschrift celebrates two such lantern-bearers. How much lighter are the paths that George Caffentzis and Silvia Federici have created and shared with us in this dark world through their friendship as well as their own planetary itineraries and consistencies? This Festschrift is also an opportunity to reflect on what kind of work seems necessary and possible in the wake of the generational ‘auroras’ of Silvia and George’s visionary politics, whose projects have centred on ways of knowing and connecting disparate parts of our collective world and, in their attention to the shifting composition of our world’s many struggles, have revealed contours of a planetary thought. George and Silvia’s political work, their conceptual and methodological creations, and the ways they learned to manoeuvre reactionary and repressive counter-revolutionary advances and low periods of movement activity, are important legacies and starting points for those considering new projects in these times. For decades, they have helped us bear witness to our social body, gather essential light, consider lessons, and circulate the wisdom of our worlds-making. Importantly, they have also facilitated the converging of many languages and experiences shared by the ethnographers, poets, and plenipotentiaries of the last decades of class struggles; and they have simultaneously shared the results of these encounters in the pages of their own journals and books as well as in many other spaces such as dinner tables, convivia and assemblies. George and Silvia are lodestars for those interested in augmenting the means of communication for the circulation of struggles. Their dedication to bringing together, preparing and sharing materials (linguistic, experiential, cartographic, affective, aesthetic) from the planetary itineraries of struggle have been ballasts in those ‘small crafts able to navigate on the ocean of chaos’. In this sense, of analysing ‘political currents coming from different parts of the world and different sectors of the world proletariat, each rooted in a history of struggles’,[49] their example inspires us to consider how ‘reading the struggles’ is necessary work we must continue to develop. *** Midnight Friendships I was a longtime reader of Midnight Notes before I was a member of the final era of the group’s formation, when it was called ‘Midnight Notes and Friends’. In the summer of 2008, George invited me to a gathering at the Autonomedia loft with associates, new and old, of Midnight Notes (the original 1970s and 1980s collective; a few from the 1990s; some, like me, of the mid-2000s) to reflect on this rich history. We also came together to map an elaborate itinerary for a new phase of the collective scrawled across a large scroll that would detail the work - and the working groups - to come. Much of that work, ‘to develop new material concerning present and future anticapitalist struggles’ as George put it, did not come to pass. The same intimations of deepening resistance and crisis that we deliberated on in those meetings came to a head in the months following that meeting. In 2009, members and friends of Midnight Notes published Promissory Notes: From Crises to Commons to look squarely at the crisis from the point of view of the ‘the struggles billions have made across the planet against capital’s exploitation and its environmental degradation of their lives’.[50] These struggles - manifested in financial, ecological, housing, food, governmental and migrant crises, and war - both decentred narratives of capital’s internal crisis tendencies and centred urgent forms of resistance the world over. The itinerary of these movements mapped dramatically onto the cartographic vision we conjured on that scroll the previous summer and served to reinforce the ongoing necessity of our editorially ambitious if diffuse collective project. These were intimidating but auspicious times for Midnight Notes to turn thirty! Midnight Notes hosted its final gathering at the Brecht Forum in New York City six months later, during the ‘harsh winter’ of a deepening capitalist crisis. This ‘MN30’ meeting was intended to celebrate 30 years of a collective project and, it turns out, to minister to its last rites, neither through absolution nor anointment, but sober reckoning about the present state of things and a dignified resolve to find new methods to transform them.[51] After three decades of peripatetic inquiry - in ‘small crafts’ determined to traverse oceans of chaos and ‘long caravans’ dedicated to relaying news and gather powers across the desiccated lands of conquest and enclosure - the journal ceased to be a viable place for collective work. Steadfast in its purpose to serve as a space of critical dialogue within and about the anticapitalist movement, and inventive in its many expressions, Midnight Notes surpassed its humble origins and fell short of its gargantuan ambition. The seemingly abrupt interruption of these shared itineraries pushed me closer toward a new publishing project in 2010 that I named Common Notions. My ambition was to reciprocate the gift of friendship in the aftermath of Midnight Notes. I worked with Silvia and George to collect their writings and present them to the world in two publications, Revolution at Point Zero (2012) and In Letters of Blood and Fire (2013), and more recently in Wages for Students (2016). These books have circulated in a manner that has inspired even more beautiful friendships and connections around the world, and have traced many common lines of struggle, thought, care and convivial encounter in the few years since they were published. They are important indications that our work as an editorial and publishing project remains necessary. Yet I believe we still need another collective editorial project in the wake of the ones George and Silvia sustained and animated for so long. On the day Midnight Notes gathered for the last time a decade ago, George told us: ‘I know I need a site of continuous collective discussion and debate in dialogue with the anticapitalist movement in order to create a political perspective that can be expressed in a journal. However, Midnight Notes stopped being such a site a while ago. It is time to create a new and larger one.’ A new project such as this has yet to emerge, though its contours can be traced in the long arc of George and Silvia’s life and work. How can their experiences guide us today? *** Recognise and Record
We shall simply show the world why it is struggling, and consciousness of this is a thing it must acquire whether it wishes or not. - Karl Marx, Letter to Arnold Ruge (1843) To publish such a paper demands besides deep theoretical understanding, technical knowledge, journalistic skill, a sense of values, flexibility and firmness, combined to an exceptional degree. Some of these can to some extent be studied in isolation, but today their full application and development can only be achieved in what we have shown are the vast implications contained in the formula: to recognize the existence and record the facts of the new society. - C.L.R. James, Facing Reality (1958)Ruthless criticism and abolition of the present order predicated on experience in practical struggle. That was the vision of the young Karl Marx as he shifted about Europe evading censors and state police, mingling with conspirators and collaborators, and elaborating the necessary objectives of an international journal to establish common cause among myriad workers’ movements. His editorial vision in this moment was dedicated to ‘the self-clarification (critical philosophy) of the struggles and wishes of the age’. He would insist that ‘this is a task for the world and for us. It can succeed only as the product of united efforts’.[52] Many autonomous paths and traditions have since emerged from Marx’s call for militant ‘self-clarification of the struggles’. Silvia and George’s ‘reading of struggles’ belongs in that tradition that has thoroughly ‘applied Marx to Marxism’ in the analysis of capital and class, waged and unwaged work, debt and expropriation, social reproduction and the commons, and crisis and war. Their expansion of the class-struggle categories of Marxism, along with their notion that social struggles reveal the changing nature of class composition across the spectrum of class society and its many divisions and hierarchies, has moved us beyond the limits of Italian workerist thinking (and to some degree that of an earlier cohort of Zerowork members). At the same time it has helped develop a powerful vision of struggles and autonomy through an analysis of what they refer to as ‘the manifold of work’ on an international scale. Drawing on the race, class and gender perspective of Wages for Housework, this work distilled a new formulation of autonomy from the refracted light from a variety of perspectives, concepts and traditions, including heterodox Marxism, feminism, social ecology, subsistence, Indigenous, anticolonial and abolitionist. These powerful contributions to internationalist anticapitalist movements allow us to perceive a deeper structure to work and wage struggles - most notably in the land and resource reclamation struggles in Africa, India, the Middle East, and the Americas. Often these were struggles that were not simply looking for better wage deals with capital, but for a refusal of the orchestration of a world-destroying capitalist subsumption project inaugurated in the 1980s; struggles that did not negate wage struggles but intersected with them in new ways, and frequently surpassed strictly ‘workers’ struggles’ in terms of mass militancy. The swerve around Lenin is notable, not only because the Bolshevik leader was so ideologically dominant in the seventies, including in work- erist circles; but also because at the time Leninism offered a widely tested strategy for writing and publishing from a workers’ standpoint. The Iskra [The Spark] model, based on the first all-Russian illegal Marxist newspaper Lenin founded in 1900, was attractive to many new communist organisations throughout the seventies because it clearly articulated the role that publishing would have and the results it would yield, whether oriented toward mass readership or clamouring for infraleft self-purity. Midnight Notes strived for neither, though collecting and analysing political material from struggles were ‘cardinal’ and ‘essential’ (both watchwords in the Leninist lexicon) aspects of their militant activities.[53] Their manoeuvres within and around the programmatic visions that Marx and Lenin inspired can also be traced to an organisational strategy that the Johnson-Forest tendency and Socialisme ou Barbarie began articulating in the 1950s, namely to ‘recognize and record’ the activities of the class - ‘where’, as C.L.R. James stated, ‘the new society is and where it is going’.[54] That is, Marxist organisations should observe working-class selfactivities and record them so that the class can see for itself what it is doing, to ‘give the working class means of expressing itself’, and the radical nature of its struggle. In the first issue of Classe Operaia, Mario Tronti reformed Lenin’s familiar line on the role of the working-class publication in light of changes in the technical and political composition of the class. The central task would be to analyse the experiences of struggle into a general political approach that is ‘the total viewpoint of the working class’ as it currently expressed itself, and from this basis to ‘provide a monitoring of the strategic validity of particular instances of struggle ... continually judged and mediated by a political level which can generalise it’.[55] Let’s consider this articulation. Is it the responsibility of militants to judge and monitor - that is, deem correct? Or is the role of militants ‘to sensitize ourselves to catch the true significance and the overtones of their statements of their problems, their aims and aspirations’, as Facing Reality would suggest? To avoid Lenin is certainly to avoid this problem. But the difficulty remains of how revolutionaries participate in and record the development of struggles, how their organisations can or will represent these struggles, and how this relates to the political work of producing revolutions (or more self-consciously, revolutionary processes that may initiate revolutions). Twenty years after the first pages of Classe Operaia went to print that, Zerowork boldly declared: ‘we should never identify the working class with its organizations.’ This poses questions about how certain militant organisations read, interpret, and relate to the larger social body of the working class. What do these questions mean today? We have been tracing a path through various Marxist traditions, and their associated organs, that seek, from the many perspectives of the planetary working class, to account for specific struggles while at the same time apprehending general developments of the conditions of those struggles — what they articulate, how they might circulate, and what are the potentialities and limits of their recomposition. But where is the autocritique? Do these journals turn their critical analysis on themselves? The basis of such an autocritique implies surpassing the limits of an older Euclidean geometry of class struggle, of measuring struggles against a Cartesian economic and political ‘point zero’ instead of understanding their emanating effects. Silvia and George’s work on the other hand invites us to peer into the kaleidoscope of class struggle. They teach us the strategic art of deciphering the patterns of class ‘codism’ from an unfixed position, of translating and rotating from specific and changeable distances and angles; and then of solving the problem of mutual transformation of distinct experiences and positions into new topologies and related processes of struggle. Even as we pay attention to our own viewpoints, the critical challenge is how we collectively create reflecting surfaces, behold, inquire, and adjust to the ever-changing patterns made visible and obscure. In this regard, the twelve issues of Midnight Notes, 18 bulletins of the Committee for Academic Freedom in Africa (CAFA), and several collectively edited book-length anthologies are some of many channels that deserve more study. Nearly four decades of midnight writing offer testimony to the enormity of the task. *** Strange Loops Glimpses of this orientation of class struggle appear in interesting, though harder-to-trace textual strategies and editorial decisions, alongside certain political concepts. One such concept is the ‘strange loop’. This notion appeared in early issues of Midnight Notes to describe the ways in which various class sectors ‘recognize and record’ other sectors, dispersed differently but in common in an international division of labour, and thereby make connections between and among themselves, in turn creating the conditions to circulate struggles beyond the limits of technical composition and expand the threshold of their political composition. What is a strange loop? Douglas Hofstadter describes Godel’s mathematics, the disorienting visual landscapes of M.C. Escher, and the fugal structures developed by Bach as all comprised on the phenomenon of the strange loop. Such loops occur ‘whenever, by moving upwards (or downwards) through the level of some hierarchical system, we unexpectedly find ourselves right back where we started’.[56] We complete a journey, yet are compelled to start all over again. At the same time, what is strange is not only the seemingly inevitable return. A particular kind of phenomenon is at work in which there is ‘an interaction between levels in which the top level reaches back down toward the bottom level and influences it, while at the same time being itself determined by the bottom level’.[57] Midnight Notes provides this imagery as a way to understand the shifting class and political composition from the 1980s onward. A strange loop defines relationality amongst sectors of the planetary class when those on the lowest levels of the wage/nonwage, patriarchal, racial, colonial hierarchy reach up toward the top levels and influence them, while at the same time being structurally, psychologically and socially determined by the topmost levels. The strange loops along hierarchical lines of power and the lines of escape from them also require us to think of horizontal strange loops, those of becoming-in-encounters of sectors of the class who find ways to relate to each other despite manifold operations of separation and division wrought by the sorting functions of capital and its war machines. These strange loops are what Midnight Notes invoke in their reading of struggles and in their pronouncement that effective political composition of any sector of the class can only come from an overthrow of planetary divisions of the social body. Midnight Notes’ use of the concept of ‘strange loops’ also conjures the near dreamlike spatiotemporal combinations of struggles that emerge in ciphers and surprising tongues, across seemingly disparate territories and times, through resonances of energies, desires, demands, languages, gestures. Let’s not discount in the interests of a ‘hard’ fidelity to struggles that surreal gestures can also guide us through the secrets of a world, many worlds, in profound transformation. Grave and uncertain times so often unmoor the dream vessels of prophetic surrealist sensibilities as well as fervent class desires. But they demand either new experiences of understanding the world that bring forth new interpretive prowess or therapy for the traumas of defeat and decomposition. George suggests the hidden potential of Lenin’s communication strategy (read clearly against the grain of Lenin’s legacy as a strategist whose vision is trained on the arrangement of forces on a field of battle) in understanding the composition of struggles and the possibility of new loops when directed to the planetary proletariat. Lenin’s insistence on the need for putting the proletarian body in touch with all its members, actions and powers, and his sober assessment of the need to have activists capable of outwitting a concerted police strategy of illusion- and ignorance-creation has even greater resonance today when revolution must be planetary or nothing. For the key to understanding class struggle now is not rooted in the nation state: organisations that can circulate and communicate struggles world-wide are crucial for an anticapitalist politics of social transformation. ‘As if to confirm Marx’s dubious adage about humanity’s propensity to ask the questions that it is ready to answer, there has arisen a world-wide set of organizations devoted to circulating and coordinating struggles against capital on a planetary basis.’[58] The core of this work is creating lateral channels of revolutionary and revelatory communication of the self-expression of proletarian struggles to other proletarians. This is one of many lessons to divine from the legacy of George and Silvia’s editorial-organisational work and offers much to draw from in terms of how we today might decode the planetary cipher of struggles as well as create and encrypt the very lateral channels of communication necessary for them to circulate. *** Planetary Inversions
Our new approach starts from the proposition that, at both national and international level, it is the specific, present, political situation of the working class that both necessitates and directs the given forms of capital’s development. From this beginning we must now move forward to a new understanding of the entire world network of social relations. - Mario Tronti, ‘Lenin in England’ (1964)‘Struggle’ is more than a geographic and philosophical term, and it exceeds notions of ‘international’ and ‘global’. For Wallerstein, it is world capitalist coordination that serves as the pivot that connects the ‘worldsystem’; it is the hyphen, which is meant to ‘underline that we are talking not about systems, economies, empires of the (whole) world, but about systems, economies, empires that are a world (but quite possibly, and indeed usually, not encompassing the entire globe)’?[59] The differential spatiotemporal zones of a world-constituting system suggest a capitalist paradigm comprised by a number of contradictory ‘political and cultural units’ each interacting, competing, rising, and decomposing; but nevertheless a differentiated and distinctive capitalist topos. Tronti made the mistake of politically analysing an international working class assumed to be more or less homogenous since its very homogeneity is what necessitates the worldwide capitalist coordination against it (though he admits ‘the only way to prove this unity is to start organising it’).[60] Silvia and George’s work, in contrast, has been much more carefully concerned with the level of differentiation of both capitalist and workingclass compositions as mediated by an axial division of labour, with core-like and peripheral-like production and reproduction processes, that determine how class power does or does not emerge from struggles. Their use of the term planetary provides an enlarged worldview of the Copernican revolution in the reading of class antagonism that accompanies a many-pronged tradition of autonomism inspired by the inversion in Tronti’s Operai e Capitale. In West Africa in the mid-1980s, George and Silvia had observed firsthand how structural adjustment and neocolonialism more broadly constituted a class attack on both communal subsistence and workers’ rights across African society. On their return to the United States in 1987, a politically sharpened vision of the planetary body emerged in the purview of their collective writings. In this period they helped prepare and assemble a diverse set of writings in The New Enclosures (aka Midnight Notes 10, 1990), and, with Ousseina Alidou, organised themselves and other scholars into the Committee for Academic Freedom in Africa. Besides the bulletins mentioned above, which they used to organise students and academics for over a decade, CAFA also produced the anthology A Thousand Flowers.[61] In these writings, we find the expanded ‘Copernican’ inversion of the development of international capitalist power (and specifically an inversion from a pan-Africanist perspective in CAFA). This new planetary perspective was an essential move for understanding the fault lines and the divisions internal to a planetary social body, to developing ways of seeing the new entanglements of what was unfolding and how to refuse the separations imposed. The New Enclosures details the antagonistic dynamic at the centre of planetary class relations at the time of a worldwide reorganisation of class deals, from the breakup of national Keynesianism-Fordism-welfare in the North Atlantic, through inflation, deindustrialisation, and urban ‘deconcentration’, to new forms of imperial developmentalism through the globalisation of austerity, precarity, privatisation, and structural adjustment. As they state, this ‘must operate throughout the planet in differing, divisive guises while being totally interdependent’.[62] As their work has so powerfully shown, there have been different ‘deals’ that enable and repress developmental paths for different sectors of the working classes. These deals are not limited to the wage and social wage but are also manifest in regimes of racial domination and violence against women. Divisions accumulate through a planetary social body that is internationally divided, lumpenised, repressed, disciplined, abandoned, devalued, incarcerated and brutalised in an era when all ‘national’ and ‘world-regional’ deals are off and each continental moment of enclosure and class attack is predicated on the elaboration of others. This is central to understanding the inseparable forces of globalisation and war.[63] The enclosure processes Midnight Notes detailed in the early nineties provided a means for understanding the new era of enclosures unfolding in Iraq’s oil fields with some of the most incisive, if marginal, critiques of the limits of the antiwar movement.[64] Midnight Notes assists in framing an anticapitalist perspective on war today by recognising the capitalist strategy to discipline (neoliberalise) the oil and energy sectors and the permanence of territorial control for the planned development of capital at a number of scales through command of infrastructures and logistics located in built environments, energy, and various resources. This project has found many new articulations and yet has not been fully realised in the collective and shared reading of struggles. At the same time, the paradoxical stabilisation of state-forms despite ongoing crises has occurred through increased policing and subsumption of differentiated populations, and the intensification of exploitation through regimes of work, disciplining of spatial stratas, sexual orders, hierarchies of wages enforced in a range of labouring processes, and precarious cultural realms of reproduction. This planetary crisis, inaugurated some decades ago, now seems to be a permanent condition, one that is increasingly policed through wars that have now all but criss-crossed the ‘peace’ deals that brokered the temporary compromises of post-war Atlantic class forces and retrenched the rest of the world’s victories against colonialism. The concept of ‘class deals’ first detailed this condition, if in generalised fashion. Our task remains to map the efflux, fissures and possibilities, continuations and ruptures, in a planetary framework. Our ability to follow such coordinates depends upon developing a committed reading of a longer and fragmented history of domination and refusal, whose contemporary manifestations are perhaps increasingly becoming consolidated into a planetary regime governing life and the circulation of struggles against it. This management of surplus is a specifically important point of investigation for us as it connects disparate classes and social castes as well as distinct societies into zones of salvation and sacrifice. We can identify from a planetary perspective what are increasingly differentiated populations: those stripped of rights, those for whom rights are rendered meaningless by the legalities of nation-states in the wake of ecological catastrophes and other forms of transcendent terror, those whose rights are repackaged as market privileges, those for whom allegiance to ruling class values is the preferred aspirational avenues toward safety and security, those who are repressed for dreaming to exist otherwise, or for abandoning or assaulting the apparatus. *** New Auroras We still need editorial political projects that can bring together a planetary perspective on the condition of our social body in a time of crisis and war, and its resonances and dissonances across struggles. These are projects that continue to stretch and expand, as Silvia and George have, Marxian concepts and anticapitalist analyses rooted in both contemporary struggles and everyday life amongst ‘the enslaved, the colonized, the world of the wageless’, for autonomy and self-reproduction.[65] Insofar as these struggles pose the question of coordination and synchronicity, of their own collective awareness beyond any international organisations, they reveal a planetary logic already at work in struggles that requires more analysis if they are to become the basis of a shared project of world transformation. We need such projects that are committed to revealing the secrets of and wishes of our time, to reviving and interrogating lessons from the movements that articulate them, to exposing the limits they face, and transforming them into possibilities for new openings. To understand the strategies currently at play within planetary and territorial refusals of the imposition of work and death through the divisions and hierarchies within our planetary body, we need help to communicate across great distances from various viewpoints necessary to unmoor us from cycles of defeat. One task that clearly remains is to develop strategies to resist the interference operations of the ‘detection state’ (what Lenin terms the ‘political police’) whose function, as George described, is to ‘keep the struggle secret and the strugglers confused’.[66] Midnight Notes was one experiment. Its lessons needed to be learned. To reveal the public secrets of revolutionary impulses and initiatives is to help a multitudinous proletarian body focus on what it can do next by animating (bringing back to the body) what it already is doing. There is poetic power in the paradox of this work, its dual sensibilities and temporalities that speak and listen; traffics in both kinetic and potential energy; reveals secrets as it cloaks itself in anonymity; shocks orthodoxies and surprises revolutionaries; and constitutes itself as a spectre openly haunting the world with ‘an unspectacular goal: circulating the news of struggles’.[67] Its expressions are fit to a song. Recall the stanzas that close issue 10 of Midnight Notes (The New Enclosures): Midnight No Light No Time No Work Midnight Secret Surprise Power Midnight The interpretation of cosmologies and the surveying of geographies are part of the same militant fold and indeed, are essential to each other. Many questions remain for our caravan as it looks to the sky and ponders the earth: What kinds of arrangements will effectively bring together struggles and dynamics in different spatiotemporal dimensions across planetary plateaus? Is bringing together understandings, experiences, perceptions, and intuitions emerging from struggles the same as bringing struggles together? Is a meta-struggle (totality) necessary or superfluous to revolution? Given the differentiated nature of working-class composition, the uneven and contradictory terrain of class struggle, and given that political expressions of class often form cross-currents of understandings, is a meta-struggle even possible or desirable? How will we test the means by which we bring understanding and perception of these struggles to each other? Will they enable new topographies of struggles to exist? Will they be limited by existing spatiotemporal geopolitics? How will these movements and alignments help us to understand state and capitalist dynamics and hinder their projects? The answers will be found in the secret transmissions crossing the planet in the coming years and decades. We still need late-night readers and editors, writers and dreamers, to take notice and array them into midnight notes. [48] Franco Berardi (Bifo), Felix Guattari: Thought, Friendship and Visionary Cartography (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008), p. 140. [49] Silvia Federici, Revolution at Point Zero: Housework, Reproduction, and Feminist Struggle (Oakland, CA: Common Notions/PM Press, 2012), p. 6. [50] Midnight Notes Collective and Friends, Promissory Notes: From Crisis to Commons (Brooklyn NY: Autonomedia, 2009), p. 2. [51] Manual Yang suggests the alchemy of Midnight Notes: ‘[they] decoded partially the evanescent but no less real flickers of this capitalist winter’s end. In times of deracination, that is a praiseworthy task to undertake, worth of emulation but not imitation - for the midnight hour from the second Cold War to the latest moment of neoliberal financial crisis, which bookended MN’s history, is coming to an end and new languages, new poetics and prophetic energies must be sought out and woven from the ongoing struggles today.’ ‘Elegy for Midnight Notes?’ In Toward the Last Jubilee: Midnight Notes at Thirty Years (Washington, DC and Brooklyn, NY: Perry Editions and Autonomedia, 2009), pp. 69-70. [52] Karl Marx, ‘Letter to Arnold Ruge’ (1843; Letters from the Deutsch-Franzosische Jahrbucher) in Marx Engels Collected Works Vol. 3: Marx and Engels: 1843-1844 (London/New York: Lawrence & Wishart/International Publishers, 1975), p. 145. [53] Lenin answers his own question, ‘Where to begin?’, with the following: ‘In our opinion, the starting-point of our activities, the first step towards creating the desired organisation, or, let us say, the main thread which, if followed, would enable us steadily to develop, deepen, and extend that organisation, should be the founding of a political newspaper.. .without [which] we cannot conduct that systematic, all-round propaganda and agitation, consistent in principle. . .’ He goes on to suggest the creation of a newspaper for the circulation of struggles is ‘the cardinal and most essential sector of our militant activities.’ V.I. Lenin, ‘Where to begin?’ Iskra, No. 4 (May 1901), in Lenin Collected Works, Vol. 5 (Moscow: Foreign Languages Publishing House, 1961) pp. 20-2. [54] C.L.R. James, Grace C. Lee and Pierre Chaulieu, Facing Reality: The New Society: Where to Look for It & How to Bring It Closer (Chicago, IL: Charles H. Kerr, 1975; originally Detroit, MI: Bewick Editions, 1958), pp. 131, 148. [55] Mario Tronti, ‘Lenin In England’, Classe Operaia, No. 1 (January 1964), republished in Operai e Capitale (‘Workers and Capital’) (Turin: Einaudi, 1966), pp. 89-95, under the heading ‘A New Style of Political Experiment’. [56] Douglas R. Hofstadter, Godel, Escher, Bach: An Eternal Golden Braid (New York: Basic Books, 1999), p. 10. [57] Ibid., p. 10. [58] George Caffentzis, ‘Lenin on the Production of Revolutions’, in Werner Bonefeld and Sergio Tischler (eds) What is to be Done? New Times and the Anniversary of a Question (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002), p. 163. [59] Immanuel Wallerstein, World-Systems Analysis: An Introduction (Durham: Duke University Press, 2004), pp. 16-17. [60] Mario Tronti, Lenin In England, in Classe Operaia Issue No.1 (January 1964) (republished in Operai e Capitale [Turin: Einaudi, 1966], pp. 89-95). [61] Ousseina Alidou, Silvia Federici and George Caffentzis (eds) A Thousand Flowers: Social Struggles Against Structural Adjustment in African Universities (Trenton and Asmara: Africa World Press, 2000). [62] Midnight Notes Collective, The New Enclosures (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 1990), pp. 2, 3. [63] During the height of academic debates and theories about globalisation (culturalist and constructivist; dependency and world-system theories; neo-Gramscian; postmodern, etc.), Midnight Notes cleared a path many have followed in the years following the publication of The New Enclosures. The issue delivers a sweeping range of simultaneously occurring social realities and phenomena, to clarify and politicise the real movements of social struggles otherwise obscured by terms such as ‘new international division of labour’, ‘accumulation by dispossession’, ‘neocolonialism’, ‘financialisation’ and ‘privatisation’, which often obscured the violence that was driving globalisation. [64] See, for instance, Midnight Notes, Midnight Oil: Work, Energy, War, 1973-1992 (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 1992). [65] Federici, Revolution at Point Zero, p. 7. [66] Caffentzis, ‘Lenin on the Production of Revolutions’, p. 152. [67] Ibid., p. 162.
.. .from the abstractions of philosophy to who’d put the kettle in the workhouse. - Peter Linebaugh, The London Hanged*** Money on the Mind What relationship is there between thought and money?[68] The question is an awkward one, at least where philosophy is concerned. The very ideal of the love of wisdom implies that philosophical activity be pursued as an end in itself, having no bearing on the philosopher’s quest for survival. Indeed, philosophy’s ideology of autonomy, inherited from the Greeks, has disposed it to tend to neglect its material conditions; whether slavery in Ancient Athens or intensifying commodification of higher education and publishing in the present. Of course, one might insist upon the exclusion of such concerns from philosophical inquiry proper, restricting them instead to the less lofty domains of the sociology of knowledge. But such a claim would betray a rather narrow conception of philosophy, for where the structures of social relations are discernible at the level of the concept, the question also recoils back upon theoretical inquiry in any event. One formulation of the affinity of philosophy to its context - the categories of capitalist society in particular - is implied in this essay’s title, itself a phrase drawn from C. George Caffentzis’s study of John Locke. Caffentzis employs it there to indicate a certain reciprocity between subjectivity and property emergent in late seventeenth century Britain.[69] Of course, he is not altogether unique in delineating an exchange between money and philosophy, but he is noteworthy nonetheless for the intricacy by which he characterises that relationship; one defined ultimately by the exigencies of class struggle. Indeed, while the dominant strains of the philosophy of money have tended either towards positing the identity of philosophy and money or, in contrast, their complete autonomy from one another, Caffentzis has sought instead to trace out, in some historical detail, instances in the work of specific philosophers where money and conceptual thought intersect, and the terms upon which they do so. By way of comparison, take Georg Simmel’s Philosophy of Money. In seeking to formulate money’s transcendental conditions, Caffentzis notes, Simmel ‘dichotomises’ philosophy and money, so the possibility of their intersecting becomes unthinkable.[70] By pursuing the conditions of money as such, the argument goes, Simmel not only leaves philosophy independent of it, but in addition, abstains from assessing how philosophical interventions have transformed understandings of money. At the opposite pole, in Intellectual and Manual Labour, Alfred Sohn-Rethel implies a formal identity between philosophy and money, one where the latter is afforded temporal priority. That is, in Sohn-Rethel’s reasoning, the abstraction that occurs in acts of exchange between commodities precedes and conditions abstractions in the human mind.[71] This is a point to which we will return, but it bears pointing out here that Sohn-Rethel posits a relation between money and thought that runs along a single temporal vector, whereby the circulation of coinage enabling conceptual abstraction pervades the history of Western epistemology; money functions as an independent variable from the moment of its emergence. Yet whether philosophy and money are identified (as in Sohn-Rethel) or dichotomised (as in Simmel), an anachronistic understanding of money tends to prevail. Caffentzis evades this Scylla or Charybdis of identity or dichotomy between philosophy and money by abandoning the project of the philosophy of money altogether. Instead, he restricts the scope of his enterprise to the study of specific philosophers - Locke, George Berkeley and David Hume to be exact - whose work, in engaging in questions of policy, ‘constitutes and subsumes a monetary act’.[72] Doing so allows Caffentzis to attend to the more restricted, historically refined terrain of how particular epistemological, ontological and political formulations inform monetary ones. Equally, it reveals a level of contextual specificity that permits him to suggest how particular social relations, and monetary debates more narrowly, have shaped philosophy. This is, I think, what Caffentzis has in mind in referring to his approach as ‘ampliative’, one which finds conceptual architectures first averred in a work of philosophy, later refracted in policy proposals, or the obverse. It is notable that putting philosophy in its place in this way involves viewing it as a capitalist class project. Money, after all, as the mediator between people and their means of subsistence in a capitalist society, is a form of command. Moreover, this makes it, to borrow Harry Cleaver’s formulation, an ‘essential moment in capitalist class relations’ where life is lived as labour.[73] And it is with this basic function in mind that we might understand Caffentzis’s delineation of his object of study to the oeuvres of Locke, Berkeley and Hume, poised as they are at crucial junctures of capitalism’s development in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; each faced with urgent questions around the generalisation of exchange relations and the compulsion to wage labour. The state’s role in money’s creation and management and the social employment of money in the imposition of a universal form of value are especially important for Locke; overcoming resistance to capital’s generalisation is particularly crucial for Berkeley; and money’s civilising function as a spur to industriousness and entrepreneurial behaviour is central to Hume’s project. But attending to the reciprocity of philosophy and money, as I have suggested Caffentzis’s philosophical oeuvre does, entails a further move: the examination of the ways these problematics are shaped by and come to shape theoretical inquiry. Thus, in Clipped Coins, his study of Locke, Caffentzis reveals a philosophy mobilised by the problem of the universal- isation of money in the late seventeenth century, along with the ways this relates to the criminalisation of pre-capitalist forms of survival and the legitimation of enclosure and indefinite capital accumulation, underpinned by a metaphysical notion of personhood and a conception of knowledge as a mode of labour. If Locke can thus be said to be ‘the philosopher of primitive accumulation’, then Berkeley is the theorist of ‘import substitution’ and economic diversification.[74] For while Locke’s fundamental concern was the generalisation of a mode of property that would subject the whole of the world to the impersonal power of the market, Berkeley’s conundrum, framed by his experience as Bishop of Cloyne, is centred upon compelling his recalcitrant Irish flock into wage labour all while inducing the Anglo-Irish gentry’s investment in Ireland. It is through this problem of needing to ‘excite’ or stimulate productive activity that Caffenztis reads Berkeley’s defence of a specieless currency: given his setting in an under-developed economy, for Berkeley the function of money does not rest with its capacity to store value as it does for Locke but with its potential to stimulate and regulate behaviour. In other words, it is the ‘monetisation’ of life itself that Berkeley seeks. And it is in these terms that Caffentzis interprets the development of the conception of ‘notion’ in the Irish philosopher’s later work: here is a referent to volitional impulse inseparable from the view of money as a reflection of the ‘spirits’ that guide it. While his efforts are focused upon the rebellious Scottish Highlands rather than Ireland, Hume’s monetary programme emerges from a problem analogous to Berkeley’s: the process of expropriation associated with Locke, it turns out, is insufficient as a compulsion to wage labour. Yet while Berkeley calls for a temporary withdrawal for Ireland from the world market as a means of transforming social relations along capitalist lines, Hume proposes complete integration into the national and world market as a means of ‘civilizing’ Scotland’s aboriginal cultures.[75] Hume’s defence of a metallic money standard is therefore not a sign of regressive essentialism as is often assumed, but, Caffentzis shows, a response to the promiscuous issuing of promissory notes widespread in eighteenth century Scotland, along with the balance of payments crisis that results. Read through the frame of Hume’s functionalist ontology, his defence of a metallic standard for money is centred upon a moral argument against paper money’s ability to sever the ‘barbaric’ Scottish Highlanders from a gift economy to the capitalist discipline of frugality, work, and investment.[76] Together then, these three studies, (a monograph on Hume remains unpublished), offer an expansive examination of the intersections of biography, philosophy, and monetary policy. In doing so, they illustrate not only how the function of money as an equaliser between different objects and activities is crucial to the imposition of capitalist command but, broader still, show philosophy’s concepts to be inextricable from their class content. The patience and clarity characteristic of Caffentzis’s style render a fuller reconstruction of this philosophical project redundant. Despite the accessibility of the work however, it is all too often overlooked where study of the history of philosophy is concerned. Even if we restrict our gaze to the more widely referenced book on Locke as I will for the remainder of this essay, it is apparent that undue neglect of the rich theoretical terrain it opens has entailed unnecessary enigmas in the English philosopher’s contemporary reception. Caffentzis’s work, I hold here, merits further consideration. Admittedly, situating Locke’s philosophy in the context of an emergent global capitalism in late seventeenth century Britain is not in itself a unique proposition. At least since C.B. MacPherson’s formative study of Possessive Individualism, leftist readings of Locke have been premised upon his place in the rise of market society and the theoretical priority given to the individuals who inhabit it.[77] The exception of Clipped Coins, in other words, does not merely rest with the contention that there is an inherent relationship between Locke’s philosophy and capitalism. Rather, it sits with the argument that a peculiarly capitalist ontology of money, at a decisive moment for modern social relations, acts as the hinge around which both Locke’s political theory and his epistemology revolve. Such a claim, as we will see, not only resolves a host of tensions in the reception of Locke, it offers important insights into the history of modern thought more broadly. Looking primarily to Caffentzis’s study of Locke in what remains then, this essay seeks to evince the fecundity of that project. In doing so I hope to persuade the reader of the significance of Caffentzis’s philosophical project for understanding both the origins of capitalism and the conceptual architecture through which we examine it. *** Between Nature and Convention Money is poised ambiguously between being a natural substance and a social convention. This ontological axiom is, as far as Caffentzis sees it, key to unlocking the manifold tensions and uncertainties pervading Locke’s work. Caffentzis first discerns this notion through what ends up as the winning case in a polemic that has come to be known as the ‘recoinage debate’, and it bears a bit of unpacking here. Having become severely undervalued relative to the price of silver on the world market by the 1690s, it had become highly profitable to trade English silver coins on world bullion markets for their silver content alone. This not only produced a severe shortage of coins - exacerbated by rampant counterfeiting and the clipping of coins for bullion - but, in turn, led to chronic price inflation.[78] While broad agreement existed for the minting of new clip-proof coins, the dispute hung over whether to set the current market price for silver at London Mint parity or to instead keep the official Mint parity unchanged. Tasked with drafting a recommendation, Secretary of the Treasury William Lowndes proposed devaluing English coinage by re-minting coins at a lower silver content all while maintaining their nominal value. Opposed to this deflationary strategy, Locke instead proposed re-minting coins at their formal silver content while simultaneously bringing all-out discipline and justice upon counterfeiters and clippers?[79] Although it is often viewed as fetishising metal money, Caffentzis instead reads Locke’s proposal as reflecting the need for a stable measure of value to underpin contracts and transactions upon a burgeoning world market. On this view, Lowndes’s inflationary proposal, effectively deflating the value of money from its metal content, threatened trust in both money and the state. Not only would Lowndes’s plan threaten world trade by failing to impose a spatial and temporal identity upon contracts, but it would enrich hoarders and manipulators of bullion while also effectively transforming the state itself into a coin clipper. Certainly, with Locke’s re-minting plan deflation would occur, but this would only be the case when viewed from the relative myopia of a British idea of value and not from the perspective of a global market dealing in the objective value of silver coins?[80] As we will see, the question of the relation of value to substance brings monetary policy immediately into the ambit of epistemic questions regarding the universality of knowledge.[81] For if experience is essential to knowledge, as Locke holds, then where the relation between money’s metal content and its value is severed, ideas of money become deprived of coherence. Here lies the key to Locke’s ‘mercantilist prejudice’; while money is subject to convention, it is only through its substantial qualities that it is assured a level of objectivity beyond subjective intention?[82] This is a claim that will bear further examination, but suffice it to say that holding the universality of money as of a higher order than the nation-state, as Locke does, extends beyond local questions of inflationary policy to underlie the issue of the dominance of capital on a world scale.[83] The priority attending the universality of money in Locke’s position in the recoinage debate, especially insofar as it conceives money ambiguously between subjective convention and its objective qualities, is reflected in the role money is assigned in the account of the origins of political society presented in the Second Treatise on Government.[84] In fact, as Caffentzis shows, not only does the introduction of money function as ‘efficient cause’ of the social contract but moreover, money’s ambiguous ontological status between convention and nature forms the basis for Locke’s programme of political reform. Before examining the consequences of this claim for conventional readings of Locke, let us see in more detail why this is the case. As is well known, in the Second Treatise Locke establishes ‘life, liberty, and estate’ as rights that are temporally and logically prior to civil government. Where Robert Filmer and other defenders of absolutism hold property in biblical terms as a royal inheritance from Adam, to whom the Earth was given, Locke’s argument sets off from the claim that everyone is a ‘proprietor in his own person’ and in the products of his labour.[85] ‘I labour on X, therefore X is part of me’, as Caffentzis puts it.[86] While the notion of self-ownership allows man to inscribe property in the natural commons, Locke further insists on a natural law to ‘preserve God’s creation’, implying moral limits to appropriation?[87] A so-called ‘spoilage limitation’ restricts property to what can be used before it spoils, while a ‘sufficiency limitation’ means that one is dutybound to ‘leave enough and as good’ for others.[88] Only with the invention of money and men’s mutual consent to put a value upon it are both limitations overcome so that man may ‘fairly possess more land than he himself could use the product of’.[89] In other words, money’s capacity to store value frees the subject from moral limits to appropriation of that with which he mixes his labour or, implicitly, frees him to sell his labour for a wage. Property ceases to encroach on anyone’s natural rights from this moment since the universal consent conferred upon the value of money amounts to a universal consent to the ‘disproportionate and unequal Possession of the Earth’ it engenders?[90] So far this is a relatively orthodox account of Locke’s theory of property. The potency of Caffentzis’s explanation, and the conception of money upon which it rests in particular, only truly becomes evident where it resolves some of the tensions and aporia that have plagued reception of the ‘Second Treatise’. This is apparent if we take up the so-called ‘religious turn’ that has dominated Locke scholarship in recent decades. Taking Locke’s Protestant belief as crucial to understanding his political philosophy, John Dunn, Quentin Skinner, Peter Laslett, James Tully and others have read the invention of money against the grain of MacPherson’s influential framing of Locke as the philosopher of market society, in viewing it through a biblical lens that sees it as a fall from natural grace?[91] Contra MacPherson’s view of Locke as erecting a capitalist economy as a natural state of affairs, in situating money as a wholly conventional phenomenon, scholars of the religious turn foreground the moral limits Locke places upon acquisition and in doing so, seek to rescue an egalitarian spirit from his work. Drawing upon Clipped Coins, Onar Olus Ince has shown that this sort of theological interpretation offers little means to explain why Locke doesn’t simply call for the eradication of money instead of invoking the state to manage its effects.[92] Equally, Ince argues, to view Locke as naturalising capitalist social relations as MacPherson has it, only works by awkwardly discarding the limits Locke ascribes to property. Implicit in the conventional left reading rests the assumption that Locke is not deeply invested in giving moral foundations to property. But if this were the case then he would have no reason, Ince continues, to insist upon the right to property even where ‘disproportionate and unequal Possession of the Earth’ occurs.[93] The point here, drawn from Caffentzis, is that the tension between a natural and conventional view of money cannot be overcome since, for Locke, the very being of money oscillates between them. On one hand, Locke is explicit that the use of money is based on consent and thus, is not to be viewed as wholly natural, as MacPherson’s interpretation suggests. Still, pace Ince, it is only insofar as the consent to recognise the value of money is understood by Locke to be a universal yet pre-political event that precedes the constitution of the commonwealth, can he morally defend accumulation without making the dubious claim that inequality is a religious commandment.[94] Money, it turns out, is neither wholly natural nor political and moreover, it is only on this basis that it can become universal. Likewise, if we follow Clipped Coins to that moment in the ‘state of nature’ where men consent to the use of money, the outlines of a further moral economy central to Locke’s political theory becomes apparent. On the one hand, man’s chief moral obligation is ‘the preservation of God’s creation’ such that the central purpose of labour and the appropriation it engenders is to ‘improve [the Earth] for the benefit of life’.[95] On the other hand, Locke says ‘land that is left wholly to nature, with no improvement through cultivation [. . .] is rightly called “waste’”?[96] Only given its enclosure through social relations founded upon money as a mechanism for preserving things that would otherwise perish and be wasted, is land improved?[97] Not only therefore, does private property trump common possession, it is redefined away from webs of local use-rights specific to individual manors, professions and communities to discrete units of abstract value.[98] Such a transformation thus poses a dual injunction against those not working for a wage and against land not being worked by wage labour; ‘idleness’ becomes viewed as a criminal disposition that fails to engage in ‘improvement’?[99] *** Money and Criminality This brings us to the close relation discerned in Clipped Coins between money and criminality in Locke’s political philosophy. As Koshka Duff argues, Locke’s dual moral economy of improvement and waste was ‘instrumental in delegitimating those uses of nature he finds undesirable, and criminalising the people engaged in them’.[100] Locke’s notion of criminality implied a policy of enclosing the English commons since, it was widely held, if left unimproved the commons would generate an idle and disorderly mass while profits would be lost.[101] It further entailed support for the colonial enterprise since indigenous American failure to use money meant land was allowed to lie waste. Expropriations of land and trade made independent survival all but impossible insofar as they eradicated access to grazing, hunting and gathering along with attacks upon customary entitlements to workplace materials. In fact, so extensive was the criminalisation of subsistence beyond the wage in Locke’s time that Silvia Federici has described life lived outside the capital relation as ‘always one step away from the whip and the noose’.[102] In a similar vein, in a reference to the widespread use of capital punishment, Peter Linebaugh refers to the epoch as a ‘thanatocracy’.[103] For, as Locke argues in the ‘Second Treatise’, while the end of government is the protection of ‘life, liberty, and estate’, he who transgresses against them might ‘deserve death’.[104] On one level, the relation between money and criminality is quite patently self-evident: if the imposition of money wages and prices was necessary to compel labour to be sold to capital, this in turn required the state to both control the creation of money and to impose it as a universal measure. But Caffentzis’s argument extends further, not merely to underline money as the theoretical mechanism by which the whole of the Earth is viewed as potential profit, but as the device by which, to borrow a turn of phrase from Duff once more, ‘subsistence beyond the wage is excluded from the body politic’.[105] At this point the intimate relationship between Locke’s ontology of money and his conception of criminality ought to be apparent. Ultimately, for Caffentzis, it hinges upon the peculiar temporality of money. For while money’s relative permanence overcomes the moral limitations to appropriation in the state of nature, it only does so, as Caffentzis maintains, by introducing a hiatus between the acts of appropriation and consumption. Accordingly, if money preserves property and makes unlimited accumulation possible, it also bears the corollary of an insecure temporal space characterised by ‘fears and continual dangers’ and populated by criminals.[106] To begin with, the point here merely revisits money’s ambiguous state of being between nature and convention. Metal content exerts a certain ‘power of objectivity’, yet unlike any other substance direct knowledge of the real essence of money is unattainable. Accordingly, though it affords a certain permanence to property, money nonetheless generates a new temporal site of ‘dangers’ and uncertainty that, in turn, demands exiting the state of nature to form a civil compact. In this context Caffentzis presents us with a further thesis regarding the relation between money and criminality that begs further unpacking. As we have seen, the state’s function is to preserve money from criminality or, to use Locke’s expression: the ‘corruption and viciousness of degenerate men’.[107] While the sources of such degeneracy are only ever fleetingly referenced in the ‘Second Treatise’, by referring us to the Essay on Human Understanding, Caffentzis gleans an account of crime that coheres quite seamlessly with Locke’s ontology of money. For in that text we discover that crime results from a temporally bounded rationality which leads the subject to fail to defer the satisfaction of his pleasure and thus, to transgression of natural law. As Locke puts it, ‘[f]or though he will be always determined by that which is judged good by his understanding, yet it excuses him not; because a too hasty judgement of his own making, he has imposed on himself wrong measures of good and evil’.[108] Money, it would appear on this reading, stimulates the ‘evil’ of easy gratification. If in the pre-monetary state of nature the satisfaction of pleasures is immediate, once a money economy generates a moral law of endless improvement then crime amounts to a failure to live according to the temporal discipline of the logic of property and accumulation. This brings us back to the question of the state. For on this account it is only upon the mutual consent to money, along with the scarcity and deferral of pleasure it entails, that it becomes necessary to exit the insecurity of the state of nature to form a civil compact. Its ultimately in this sense that the account of the state presupposes criminality, as Locke’s widely cited formulation implies: ‘[t]he great chief end therefore, of men’s uniting into commonwealths, and putting themselves under governments, is the preservation of their property’.[109] Returning to the debate with Lowndes, its apparent that Locke’s defence of a metallic money standard, along with his desire to tackle counterfeiters and clippers, rests with the premise that money generates the social contract in the first place.[110] Of course this theory of the state, anchored upon property grounded in individual labour, obfuscates the history of legally constituted violence of theft and punishment.[111] *** Subjectivity and Property The peculiar temporality ascribed by Locke to the money-form does more than condition criminal subjectivity, by Caffentzis’s account. As it turns out, Caffenztis argues, the abstract conception of property that appears in the ‘Second Treatise’ already presupposes a metaphysical notion of personhood and identity. This is insofar as the indefinite circulation of commodities presupposes continuity in the identity of their owners. That is, in order for what is mine today to be mine tomorrow ‘I’ must continue to be the same person; I must be the ‘proprietor of my own person’, as Caffentzis ventrilo- quises.[112] The contention here insinuates a formal affinity between the notion of self-ownership reflected in Locke’s notion of ‘property in the person’ grounding the ‘Second Treatise’ and the account of memory in chapter 2 of An Essay on Human Understanding. The latter text presents memory as acts of appropriation of past action by present consciousness. Identity, it would seem, consists in the continuity of a claim to ownership of one’s self or, at least, this appears to be what Locke has in mind: ‘consciousness always accompanies thinking and it is that which makes everyone to be what he calls self [...] and as far as this consciousness can be extended backwards to any past action or thought, so far reaches the identity of that person’.[113] Caffentzis sees the intersection of subjectivity and property further refracted through Locke’s theory of language. There Locke ascribes words the function of transporting ideas from a private self so they may be ‘re-privatised’ by an interlocutor or preserved for a future self against oblivion.[114] In this light, the conclusion drawn by Caffentzis rests with the notion that Locke in fact transforms the Cartesian deduction of the self into a deduction for the creation of property in the self along with private property more broadly: cogito ergo habo, as Caffentzis puts it.[115] This is a bold claim, for conceiving the subject as a form of selfownership in this way entails a reformulation of the conventional history of modern philosophy: the Cartesian philosophy of consciousness is recast by Locke’s notion of self-appropriation into a conception of identity persisting across time. Nevertheless, Caffentzis is not entirely isolated in conveying such an argument. Indeed, he anticipates Etienne Balibar’s study of the English philosopher a decade later. Not unlike the assertions in Clipped Coins, Balibar discerns the constitution of identity in Locke’s philosophy as an act of self-appropriation. On his reading, this is mobilised through a linguistic contradiction whereby the self divides its unity in the process of its self-naming. ‘I speak about myself’, Balibar says, ‘therefore about my “self’’’.[116] Like Caffentzis then, Balibar also detects an unstable equivocation underlying the Lockean account of subjectivity; one that lies between the categories of identity and property. There exists an ‘anthropological doublet’ between consciousness and language grounded upon an unstable relation between ‘being’ and ‘having’, between the ‘self’ and the ‘own’.[117] While the recognition of the intersection of personhood and possession in Locke’s philosophy goes back as far as MacPherson’s designation of Hobbes and Locke as philosophers of ‘possessive individualism’, Balibar argues that the tendency among historians of political thought has been to view property as an external condition of, or barrier to, subjective freedom?[118] Not only is this to subordinate anthropology to positive law, it obscures the way identity itself becomes a form of property in Locke’s philosophy?[119] Balibar’s contention here aligns closely with Caffentzis’s interpretation. For where the labour theory of property ‘projects the privateness of the person into the ontological transformation of the earth’, as Caffentzis puts it, property and freedom are of the same ontological order?[120] Moreover, just as MacPherson understands property as external to subjectivity, so too does he assess its function too narrowly, as a mere limit upon the state rather than the very condition of its power. This in turn belies a narrow view where capitalism is concerned; one centred upon individual wealth rather than the indefinite accumulation of capital implied by Locke’s theories of property and money. Contra MacPherson, Caffentzis thus holds it to be more apt to describe Locke’s philosophy as a ‘possessive universalism’, denoting the generalisation of the commodity form and the global domination of market principles Locke has in mind, rather than the ‘petit bourgeois shopkeeper’ that he discerns as the central figure in MacPherson’s narrative.[121] This argument for what I have called a formal affinity between subject and property can be made to stand in as a tangible philosophical manifestation for a broader account of the historical co-emergence of abstract conceptions of property and of abstract will. For while common law systems tend to apprehend contractual relations as occurring between concrete persons, this acts as a barrier to systems of exchange.[122] To follow a line of argument put down by Evgeny Pashukanis, the indefinite circulation of commodities becomes possible only where an abstract ‘free’ will - a ‘purely social function’ - is established through the continual transfer of rights in the market.[123] It is through this process that the bearers of these rights come to appear as independent and substitutable: they become abstracted from any concrete bond. In capitalism therefore, as Marx avers, ‘private property has become the subject of will’, the will survives only as ‘the predicate of property’.[124] Nowhere are these intersections clearer perhaps, than in Locke’s theory of property. *** Commodity and Concept This account of the social function of property brings Caffentzis’s study of Locke into dialogue with other assessments of him as bourgeois partisan, most notably, the work of Neal Wood and Ellen Meiksins Wood. Ellen Wood is particularly significant in this regard insofar as, in a number of books, she has contested dominant currents of thought in political theory that postulate the relative autonomy of Locke’s discursive context from the categories of capitalism. Partly under the sway of hermeneutic methods imported from continental philosophy, Anglo-American scholarship - under the guise of the ‘Cambridge School’ especially - has sought to isolate Locke’s work from the forces of the commodity form by situating his oeuvre within the historical horizons of the Grotian tradition of natural law.[125] While Ellen Wood has convincingly eschewed such claims along with the deeply atomised view of history they entail, Neal Wood’s studies of Locke, in reading the bourgeois concepts plainly perceptible in the ‘Second Treatise’ back into the Essay on Human Understanding, complement the assessment offered in Clipped Coins and so deserve further scrutiny. Seeking to situate Locke’s political theory as an articulation of the institutional architecture necessary for the cultural renewal proposed by his epistemology, Neal Wood locates the peculiarly bourgeois character of his philosophy of knowledge across four distinct themes: a Baconian natural history of the psyche that implies a commitment to social reform; a celebration of independent reason against conformity; a self-directed industrious subject; and empiricism as a meritocratic form of philosophy where intellectual or moral inequality is a result of circumstance.[126] In discerning the work of bourgeois ideology at the level of Locke’s concepts themselves, Wood’s theoretical enterprise is not at odds with Caffentzis’s. But while Wood perhaps risks the reductionism that accompanies a mostly linear causative relation between politics and philosophy, the ‘deep coherence’ between philosophy and money discerned in Clipped Coins and elsewhere is less reducible to a determinist logic.[127] In this regard, it is instructive to examine more closely the intersections identified by Caffenztis between Locke’s famous doctrine of primary and secondary qualities and his ontology of money. As is well known, in the Essay Locke gives ontological primacy to what he takes to be the objectivity of the ‘primary’ qualities of substances (such as solidity, extension, motion) over ‘secondary’ qualities (such as colour, taste or heat) since the latter promise to be explained on the basis of the former. That is, while absolute knowledge of the essence of natural substances is unattainable, it is nonetheless possible to acquire knowledge on the basis of experience and observation.[128] Even if human organs do not directly observe bodily motion or structure, sensory ideas are still generated by a determinate corpuscular world. In short, even if human knowledge is by definition incomplete, nature provides it with objective limits. It’s possible to assert here, along with Neal Wood, that in freeing knowledge from innate ideas by grounding it in sensory experience, Locke liberates it from the fetters of superstition?[129] Moreover, one might further speculate that the social force of the distinction between primary and secondary qualities reflect a modern capitalist experience of nature as an abstract object of production, whereby labour and land are increasingly reduced to the qualities of number, weight, and measure in order to be exploited and exchanged. However, in Clipped Coins the argument goes further, to locate a formal affinity between the philosophy of primary and secondary qualities and capital at the level of the form of value itself. It is here that the intimate connection between concept and commodity in Locke’s work becomes especially apparent. For if the value of money is to be universally established as Locke wants, it cannot be wholly embodied in the sensuous qualities of the commodity, nor in the primary qualities of precious metals. As a measure of value, money is conventional; its existence hinges upon consent. Yet, as we have seen, the preservation of value across time and space demands its stability. Accordingly, what Caffentzis refers to as the ‘bond between convention and nature’ represented by metallic money amounts to a unique synthesis of primary and secondary qualities?[130] The point becomes even clearer when we see how this view of money further coheres with Locke’s taxonomy of ideas. Where ideas of substances are concerned words are said to merely ‘tag’ an already coalesced idea and so are not subject to whim. Since substances are discovered and not invented, their names are ‘passive and external’.[131] Conversely, insofar as they lack a natural external standard, abstractions are not confronted by reality, and thus are said to bear an inherent indeterminacy. There is a continuity discernible here between Locke’s ontology of money and a ‘mercantilist’ conception of language where words give stability to ideas so they may be smoothly exchanged.[132] As Caffentzis suggests, while for Locke a coin signifies both the particular idea that is produced upon its appearance and the abstract quality of gold or silver it represents, it is only the corpuscular metallic nature of the coin that assures its bearer that the abstract idea of value will have a continuous objectivity in the world, and therefore, preserve property through money’s ‘power of objectivity’.[133] Conceived as marking a particular intersection of the commodity and the concept, Caffentzis’s study is thus not restricted to detecting the bourgeois desire motivating his philosophy as other historical materialist accounts have sought to demonstrate, but rather to show how ‘the abstractions to which capital submits social life’, to employ Alberto Toscano’s formulation, are uncovered at the level of the history of ideas.[134] What is more, this insinuates the potential for the arguments discussed above to offer a wider contribution to discussions, often revolving around the work of German philosopher Alfred Sohn-Rethel, on the material sources of mental abstraction. Not unlike Caffentzis to some degree, Sohn-Rethel’s theoretical venture centres upon the attempt to locate the conditions of cognition in the exchange of commodities and so, merits a brief detour through his argument in order to further glean the significance of Caffentzis’s contribution. *** Money and Abstraction Sohn-Rethel’s philosophical project begins with the premise that posing an equivalence between two different objects necessarily involves abstracting from their physical qualities. This entails what he calls a ‘real abstraction’, for while the subject of exchange thinks of the qualitative properties of the object, the practice of exchange takes place in terms of the form of the exchange value of the object. In other words, abstraction in the mind is preceded by abstraction in practice.[135] Drawing on this basic premise, Sohn-Rethel seeks to trace the development of conceptual knowledge from antiquity through the medieval period to the rise of merchant capital and finally, to the development of industrial capital. Of course, the crucial juncture in this narrative occurs with the emergence of capitalism, since here the separation of manual from mental labour becomes stark. Sohn-Rethel’s contention is that the epistemic project of modern science and philosophy is inseparable from capital’s need to posit a mental labour autonomous from manual labour since it permits the imposition of abstract knowledge over labour and so, control by automation over artisanry.[136] In this expansive reading, the dualism of mind and world inaugurated by Descartes and later presented as a transcendental necessity by Kant reflects a dualism inherent in a society wherein social control is grounded upon a knowledge of nature based in intuition and whose sources are non-sensuous.[137] Sohn-Rethel is widely regarded as contributing to a truly historical materialist account of conceptual abstraction insofar as he locates the sources of the latter in the practices of class societies. Yet in taking the consumer’s relation to the product as the source of abstraction, it is argued he obscures what Marx views as the specific basis of abstraction in capitalism, namely, the commodity form of abstract labour. As both Anselm Jappe and Moishe Postone have suggested, Sohn-Rethel seems to presume capitalism to be defined only by the sphere of exchange, circulation and distribution of commodities, while labour in production is seen as a neutral activity not alienated by its commodification.[138] Moreover, given the priority he accords to abstraction in exchange rather than in labour, Sohn-Rethel’s historical narrative centres upon the gradual expansion of exchange from Ancient Greece to modern capitalism, culminating with Galileo’s concept of inertial motion as the founding gesture of a truly capitalist form of knowledge no longer derived from nature but deduced from abstractions that are themselves derived from the ‘pattern of motion contained in the real abstraction of commodity exchange’.[139] This is an account that cannot but fail to provide any meaningful distinction between a situation of widespread commodity production and a capitalist society where social reproduction is dependent upon the market. Abjuring the sort of historical narrative espoused by Sohn-Rethel, the scope of Caffentzis’s study of Locke does not extend to setting out the sources of mental abstraction as such. At stake is not merely a question of analytic scope but also a methodological proposition. Or, at least, this seems to be the case, where a more detailed historical perspective suggests a crucial transformation in early modernity in the philosophical understanding of thought from a form of activity to a form of labour.[140] That is, where Sohn-Rethel sees a continuous division of mental and manual labour running from Ancient Greece to eighteenth century Europe and culminating in industrial capital’s taking direct control of the labour process, Caffentzis insists that only with Locke is the idea conceived as property or chattel and thus, it is included in the ontological order of the products of labour.[141] For Plato, for instance, thought consists in contemplation of and participation in ideal forms; its products could not be alienated. Similarly, if for Aristotle thought is distinct from labour, this is so to the extent that labour has a telos while thought is an end in itself.[142] In either case, an unequivocal gulf in the being of master and slave classes, between thought and labour, excluded any discourse between absolutely distinct ontological orders. Despite subscribing to Sohn-Rethel’s (and indeed, Federici’s) view of Descartes as inaugurating a separation of mind and world as a reflection of capital’s view of the world as a mechanism to be mastered, Caffentzis indexes the modern rupture with the Platonic separation of knowledge and property to Locke since it is only with the latter that the equation of subjectivity with property extends to the level of thought itself.[143] This much becomes apparent if we take Locke’s philosophical enterprise as centred upon a critique of the notion of innate abstract ideas, for it appears particularly clearly from this perspective as a project, as Caffentzis suggests, grounded upon a conception of knowledge as effort and of ideas as the objects of labour. As a matter of fact, Locke views the exercise of mental labour as a moral compulsion; asserting in the Essay that, ‘God having fitted men with faculties and means to discover, receive and retain truths, according as they are employed’.[144] The activity of thought, it would seem, coheres perfectly with the labour theory of property.[145] That is, while Locke holds the mind as passive in the reception of simple ideas, he nevertheless obliges it to act upon them not unlike the requirement to labour upon the commons in order to transform it into private property. What Locke calls the ‘workmanship of the understanding’ therefore, seems to amount to a sort of ‘improvement’ in the realm of ideas.[146] It is thus that thought becomes a form of appropriation and its products come to be potential commodities. Cogito ergo habo indeed. I have suggested, however, that given the constraints Caffentzis places upon the scope of a given history of thought, this accounting of Locke’s philosophy of money is not the last word, nor does it account once and for all for philosophy’s relation to the commodity. In this light, Locke’s philosophy is read as an attempt to assert the priority of capital over the state and the imposition of a universal form of value upon labour. Locke’s project thus differs from Berkeley’s attempt to monetise the everyday life of a resistive peasantry or Hume’s desire to break the Highlanders’ gift economy. We might discern echoes in these projects of Keynesian, neoliberal monetary policy or whatever might supersede it, but all in all, the point is that, if we understand money as a form of command, this implies that where the philosophy of money is involved so too are the coordinates of struggle. George Caffentzis has given us a method for mapping their conceptual history and its reverberations in the present. [68] I owe a debt of gratitude to Jonathan Martineau, Koshka Duff, and Nicholas Beuret. I’m especially grateful to Bue Rubner Hansen along with the editors for comments on earlier drafts of this essay. [69] C. George Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, Abused Words, and Civil Government: John Locke’s Philosophy of Money (New York: Autonomedia 1989), p. 50. [70] Georg Simmel, The Philosophy of Money, translated by Tom Bottommore and David Frisby (London & New York: Routledge, 1978); George Caffenztis, ‘Locke, Berkeley and Hume as Philosophers of Money’, in Silvia Parigi (ed.) George Berkeley: Religion and Science in the Age of Enlightenment (London and New York: Springer, 2010), p. 62. [71] Alfred Sohn-Rethel, Intellectual and Manual Labour: A Critique of Epistemology (London: Macmillan Press, 1978). [72] Caffentzis, ‘Locke, Berkely and Hume as Philosophers of Money’, p. 62. [73] For a longer account of money as command see Harry Cleaver, ‘The Subversion of Money-As-Command in the Current Crisis’, in Werner Bonefeld and John Holloway (eds) Global Capital, National State and the Politics of Money (London: Palgrave MacMillan, 1996). [74] George Caffentzis, John Locke: Philosopher of Primitive Accumulation (Bristol: Bristol Radical History Group, 2008); C. George Caffentzis, Exciting the Industry of Mankind: George Berkeley’s Philosophy of Money (London & Dordrecht: Kluwer, 2000), p. 118. [75] C. George Caffentzis, ‘Hume, Money, & Civilization: or, Why Was Hume a Metallist?’ Hume Studies, 27(2) November 2001, pp. 301-35; C. George Caffentzis, ‘Civilizing the Highlands: Hume, Money and the Annexing Act’, Historical Reflections/Rflections Historiques, 31(1), 2005, pp. 169-94. [76] George C. Caffentzis, ‘On the Scottish Origin of “Civilization’’’, in Silvia Federici (ed.) Enduring Western Civilisation: the Construction of the Concept of Western Civilisation and its Others (Westport & London: Praeger, 1995), pp. 13-36. [77] C.B. MacPherson, The Political Theory of Possessive Individualism: Hobbes to Locke (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011). [78] The Locke literature has only very recently begun to focus on this debate in earnest. See for instance Daniel Carey, ‘Locke’s Species: Money and Philosophy in the 1690s’, Annals of Science, 70(3), 2013, pp. 357-80; Douglas Casson, ‘John Locke, Clipped Coins, and the Unstable Currency of Reason’, Ethica & Politica, XVIII, 2016, 2, pp. 153-80; Patrick Kelly, ‘‘Monkey’ Business: Locke’s ‘College’ Correspondence and the Adoption of the Plan for the Great Recoinage of 1696’, Locke Studies, 9, 2009, pp. 139-65. Rather outrageously, this literature rarely cites Caffen- ztis’s pioneering work, with David McNally as a rare exception. See David McNally, ‘The Blood of the Commonwealth: War, the State, and the Making of World Money’, Historical Materialism, 22(2), pp. 3-32. [79] See John Locke, Locke on Money, P.H. Kelly (ed.) (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991). [80] On this point see David McNally, ‘The Blood of the Commonwealth’. [81] Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 28. [82] Caffentzis, Exciting the Industry of Mankind, p. 186. [83] McNally, ‘The Blood of the Commonwealth’, p. 20. [84] see John Locke, Two Treatises of Government, Peter Laslett (ed.) (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988). [85] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise on Government’, Sections 27, 44. [86] Caffentzis, John Locke: Philosopher of Primitive Accumulation, p. 3. [87] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Section 6. [88] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Sections 31, 34. [89] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Section 50. [90] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Section 50. [91] See John Dunn, The Political Thought of John Locke (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969); Quentin Skinner, Liberty Before Liberalism (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998); James Tully, A Discourse on Property: John Locke and His Adversaries (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980); Peter Laslett, ‘Introduction’, Two Treatises of Government. [92] Onur Ulas Ince, ‘Enclosing in God’s Name, Accumulation for Mankind: Money, Morality, and Accumulation in John Locke’s Theory of Property’, Review of Politics, vol. 73, 2011, pp. 29-54. [93] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Section 50; Onur Ulas Ince, ‘Enclosing in God’s Name’. [94] Onur Ulas Ince, ‘Enclosing in God’s Name’. [95] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Section 32. [96] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Section 42. [97] I draw here on a series of studies of the relationship between accumulation and the concept of waste in Locke. See in particular Onur Ulas Ince, ‘Enclosing in God’s Name’; Mark Neocleous, ‘War on Waste: Law, Original Accumulation and the Violence of Capital’, Science and Society, 75(4), 2011, pp. 506-28; Jesse Goldstein, ‘Terra Economica: Waste and the Production of Nature’, Antipode, 54(2), 2013, pp. 357-75; Ellen Meiksins Wood, The Origins of Capitalism: A Longer View (London: Verso, 2002); Ellen Meiksins Wood, Liberty and Property: A Social History of Western Political Thought from the Renaissance to Enlightenment (London: Verso, 2012). [98] See Mark Neocleous, ‘War On Waste’; Jesse Goldstein, ‘Terra Economia’. [99] See Koshka Duff, The Criminal is Political: Real Existing Liberalism and the Construction of the Criminal. PhD dissertation, University of Sussex, December 2017. [100] Koshka Duff, The Criminal is Political, p. 36. [101] Mark Neocleous, ‘War on Waste’, pp. 510-12; Ellen Meiksins Wood, The Origins of Capitalism, p. 276; Jesse Goldstein, ‘Terra Economia’. [102] Silvia Federici, Caliban and the Witch: The Body and Primitive Accumulation (New York: Autonomedia, 2004), p. 85. [103] Peter Linebaugh, The London Hanged: Crime and Civil Society in the Eighteenth Century (2nd edn) (London: Verso, 2006). [104] John Locke, Second Treatise, Section 182, Locke writes: ‘for though I may kill a thief that sets on me in the highway, yet I may not (which seems less) take away his money, and let him go: this would be robbery on my side’. The protection of property seems to trump human life here. [105] Koshka Duff, The Criminal is Political, p. 16. [106] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Section 123; Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, pp. 69-72. [107] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Section 128. [108] John Locke, An Essay on Human Understanding, P.H. Nidditch (ed.) (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979), Book II, Chapter XXI, Section 56. [109] John Locke, ‘Second Treatise’, Section 124 (emphasis added). [110] Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 71. [111] The state must, by definition, be estranged and abstracted from society where a regime of work and property exists since such a society can have no common interest except, as Lucio Colletti writes in a discussion of the young Marx’s critique of the liberal state, ‘by dissociation from all contending interests’. This is even though, as Colletti notes, the state is nothing but a reflection of those very interests. See Lucio Coletti, ‘Introduction’, Karl Marx: Early Writings, translated by Rodney Livingstone and Gregory Benton (London: Penguin, 1975), p. 35. [112] Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 101. [113] John Locke, An Essay on Human Understanding, Book II, Chapter XXVII, Section 9. Quoted in Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 53. [114] Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 101. [115] Caffentzis, John Locke, p. 4; Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 52. [116] Etienne Balibar, ‘My Self and My Own: One and the Same?’ in B. Mauer and G. Schwab (eds) Accelerating Possession: Global Futures of Property and Personhood (New York: Columbia University Press, 2006), p. 322. [117] See Balibar, ‘My Self and My Own’; Etienne Balibar, Identity and Difference: John Locke and the Invention of Consciousness (London: Verso, 2013), pp. 23, 32. Balibar seems to reject the standard reading of Locke that equates his conceptions of consciousness and memory, a kind of empirical unity persistent across time and instead understands consciousness in Locke as a ‘proto-transcendental’ conception of consciousness as immanent to the structure of mind. In doing so, Balibar echoes Caffentzis in positing a reciprocity between the theory of consciousness and theory of property inherent to Locke’s philosophy. While there are some important tensions between Balibar’s and Caffentzis’ readings, this falls outside the scope of this chapter. [118] C.B. MacPherson, The Political Theory of Possessive Individualism; Balibar, Identity and Difference, p. 72. [119] Balibar, Identity and Difference, p. 72; Stella Sanford ‘The Incomplete Locke: Balibar, Locke and the Philosophy of the Subject’ in Etienne Balibar, Identity and Difference, pp. xi-xlvi. [120] Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 50. [121] Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 118. [122] Caffentzis, ‘On the Scottish Origin of “Civilization”’. [123] Evgeny Pashukanis, General Theory of Law and Marxism, translated by Dragan Milovanovic (New Brunswick & London: Transaction Publishers, 1978), pp. 115, 112, 127. [124] Karl Marx, ‘Contribution to the Critique of Hegel’s ‘Philosophy of Right’’ in Karl Marx: Early Writings, p. 175. Marx makes an analogous claim in Capital, Vol. 1 where he argues that in order for commodities to be exchanged ‘their guardians must place themselves in relation to one another as persons whose will resides in those objects, and must behave in such a way that each does not appropriate the commodity of the other, and alienate his own, except through an act to which both parties consent. The guardians must therefore recognise each other as owners of property’. Karl Marx, Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, Volume 1, translated by Ben Fowkes (London: Penguin, 1976), p. 178. [125] See Ellen Meiksins Wood, Citizens and Lords: A Social History of Western Political Thought From Antiquity to the Middle Ages (London: Verso, 2008), pp. 1-27. I owe the methodological insight in part to Jonathan Martineau, ‘Ellen M. Wood and the Social History of Political Theory’, paper delivered to Historical Materialism Conference, London, November 2016. [126] Neal Wood, The Politics of John Locke’s Philosophy: A Study of An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), pp. 180-1. [127] The phrase ‘deep coherence’ is used by Caffentzis to refer to the relation of philosophy and money in Berkeley’s work but it applies equally to his reading of Locke. See Caffentzis, Exciting the Industry of Mankind, p. 3. Stella Stanford makes an analogous claim with regards to Wood’s work in ‘The Incomplete Locke: Balibar, Locke and the Philosophy of the Subject’ in Etienne Balibar, Identity and Difference, pp. xi-xlvi. [128] Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 109. [129] Neal Wood, The Politics of John Locke’s Philosophy; Joanne Faulkner, ‘Innocents and Oracles: The Child as a Figure of Knowledge and Critique in the Middle-Class Imagination’, Critical Horizons, (3)2, pp. 323-46. [130] Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 116. [131] Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 81. [132] Caffentzis, Exciting the Industry of Mankind, p. 193. [133] Caffentzis, Exciting the Industry of Mankind, p. 187; Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, p. 110; Caffentzis, ‘Locke, Berkeley and Hume as Philosophers of Money’, pp. 64-5. [134] Alberto Toscano, ‘The Open Secret of Real Abstraction’, Rethinking Marxism, 20(2), pp. 273-87. [135] Alfred Sohn-Rethel, Intellectual and Manual Labour: A Critique of Epistemology (London: Macmillan, 1978), pp. 28-9. [136] Sohn-Rethel, Intellectual and Manual Labour, pp. 113, 122, 141, 179-80. [137] Sohn-Rethel, Intellectual and Manual Labour, pp. 77-8 and passim. The claims made here are largely reproduced from Paul Rekret and Simon Choat, ‘From Political Topographies to Political Logics: Post-Marxism and Historicity’, Constellations, 23(2), June 2016, pp. 281-91. It deserves mentioning that Sohn-Rethel’s claim here is echoed by Silvia Federici who has suggested understanding the Cartesian institution of an ontological division between the mental and the physical domains along with the mechanical conception of the body it implies, in terms of the suppression of pre-capitalist social relations. From this perspective the central accomplishment of the age of reason entailed posing the body as intelligible and thus, as an object that could be subordinated to uniform and predictable modes of behaviour. See Caliban and the Witch, pp. 138-55. [138] Anselme Jappe, ‘Sohn-Rethel and the Origin of ‘Real Abstraction’: A Critique of Production or a Critique of Circulation?’ Historical Materialism, 21(1), pp. 3-14; Moishe Postone, Time, Labour and Social Domination: A Reinterpretation of Marx’s Critical Theory, pp. 177-8, p. 156; n. 90. [139] Sohn-Rethel, Intellectual and Manual Labour, p. 128. [140] George Caffentzis, ‘Marx, Turing Machines and the Labor of Thought’, In Letters of Blood and Fire: Work, Machines and the Crisis of Capitalism (Oakland & Brooklyn: PM Press, 2013), p. 165. [141] Caffentzis, ‘Marx, Turing Machines and the Labor of Thought’, p. 192. [142] Caffentzis, ‘Marx, Turing Machines and the Labor of Thought’, p. 168. [143] Sohn-Rethel, Intellectual and Manual Labour, p. 123; Silvia Federici, Caliban and the Witch, pp. 138-55; Caffentzis, ‘Marx, Turing Machines and the Labor of Thought’, p. 167. [144] John Locke, Essay, Book I, Chapter IV, Section 22. [145] Caffentzis, Exciting the Industry of Mankind, p. 199. [146] Locke, Essay, Book III, Chapter XIII, Section 13. ** 6. Thomas Spence’s Freedom Coins Peter Linebaugh ‘Don’t take any wooden nickels’, witty uncles used to instruct the children, testing the filthy lucre between their teeth. Next to stones, metal coins have been the historian’s most perdurable source of knowledge. Early in the historian’s apprenticeship one learns of the trade routes along the Volga, of Teodor Mommsen and the Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum with its 16 volumes of Roman history, of Henri Pirenne’s thesis, ‘Charlemagne, without Muhammad, would be inconceivable’. All depended on the evidence of coins. The Lincoln penny is so common as to be a nuisance, even in the penny jar. Perhaps the most valued of all US presidents, now on the coin of lit- tlest value. Washington’s on the quarter. The Roosevelt dime is proverbially thin. Then the Indian head nickel signifying the appropriation of the native Americans. The Sacagawea dollar coin never took hold, too much like the quarter in size and weight. Still, it signified more conquest. All the quiz questions - who’s on the dollar bill, the 5-dollar bill, the 20, the hundred? - are answered, generally, with presidents. ‘Have an Indian killer’, my Wobbly friend from Chicago used to say as he handed a 20 over to the waitress. What will he say when Harriet Tubman replaces Andrew Jackson on the 20-dollar note - ‘welcome to the underground’? So, one purpose of coin design is the assertion of sovereignty. ‘Coining’, Marx wrote, ‘is the business of the State’.[147] The second goal in coin design is singularity. Its image, its material, its technique must be inimitable or able to confound the skilled counterfeiter. Bank notes, exchequer bills, many paper instruments performed monetary functions in the eighteenth century. And with each new instrument came possibilities of forgery, and with these possibilities came new laws, and with the new laws, death. Coins signified the power of the state and the geographies of commerce. George Caffentzis wrote, ‘The accumulation process and the state are preconditioned on the monetary system; should it breakdown so will they. Mistakes with money are fatal’.[148] With John Locke, the English philosopher of the seventeenth century, George Caffentzis taught us that money and the death penalty go together in the logic of property and sovereignty. With George Berkeley, the Irish philosopher of the eighteenth century, George Caffentzis taught us that money goes with motion and the proletariat as the value-creating social class. Recently, it has been proposed to see money as art. J.S.G. Boggs was the artist famous for his money designs. The artist mastered the intricacy of imagery, design, materials and technique. Not quite facsimiles, they were works of art rather than currency. He would exchange them for other goods and ask for a receipt which he would then sell, leaving it to the buyer to track down the person who had accepted the work of art in a barter exchange. He calls them performances not transactions. His mother’s name - Marlene Dietrich Hildebrandt - already suggested some artistry; she joined a carnival as ‘Margo, Queen of the Jungle’. His first English pound note exhibited in 1986 at the ICA was called, imitating the pinched voice of the English very-upper class, Pined Newt.[149] The subject invites wit, paradox, and many subconscious spillings, surreal uproar and supernatural stupidities.‘In God We Trust’ was added to American currency only after it went off the gold standard, the monotheistic supplanting the metallic. Shakespeare’s Timon of Athens put its paradoxical powers this way:
Gold, yellow, glittering, precious gold! Thus much of this will make black white; foul fair; Wrong right; base noble; old young, coward valiant.Shakespeare forgot to add ‘life death’.The gallows is never far.Seeking subsistence, not art, poor James Wooldridge, an anvil maker, actually did forge a pound note and hanged for it in January 1801. Interpretations based on numismatics and antiquarian researches are easily available; my comments depend upon them.[150] One might explore the violence specific to money in the Proceedings at the Old Bailey which are available online. Coining, forgery and counterfeiting offences became numerous.Here’s how a typical indictment reads.
James Royer, James Smith, and Edward Ivory were indicted for that they, not having the fear of God before their eyes, but being moved and seduced by the instigation of the Devil, on the 14th of September last [1790], at the parish of St. Luke, one piece of base coin resembling the current coin of this kingdom, called a six-pence, falsely, deceitfully, feloniously, and traitorously did colour, with materials producing the colour of silver.They were sentenced to death.[151] Caffentzis explained that in the eighteenth century tickets, counters, tokens, tallies and marks were not all the same, and each provided a different monetary function.[152] Diogenes, the slave, went to Athens in order to debase the coinage leaving it to the sages of subsequent centuries to puzzle out why. Thomas Spence (1750-1814), the radical and advocate of common land, did not so much debase as deface the coinage.[153] Alan Judd has found and described these altered coins.[154] These were used to counter mark the coin of the realm, largely halfpennies and farthings (a quarter of a penny) which carried an image of the monarch. Spence created a number of stamps which, when pressed upon the coin, permanently marked them. This challenged his ability to compress his message into a word or two. He did this either with positive terms, such as
LAND LIBERTY PLENTY FAT BAIRNS FULL BELLIESreaching an apex of positivity with
OURS.Or, he would countermark with negative terms such as
YOU FOOLS STARVATION LANDLORDS YOU ROGUESor in pure, terse negation,
NO.To the extent that this coin circulated Saturday night at the public house when wages were paid over beer and trouble, or at the shop counter where the maidservant sought to buy a pretty ribbon, or at the market stall where the countryman brought fruits and veg, to the same extent basic challenges were conveyed to the foundations of the society. The wage is irrational inasmuch as it conceals the production of surplus-value. Marx regarded this insight as his original contribution to political economy, or we should say, his contribution to economics, rather than to political economy, because from the standpoint of the political it was not so much irrational as simply oppressive. Spence made coins to turn the image of the political world upside down - people replaced kings. The crisis of the 1790s arose from the revolt of the slaves in San Domingue; it arose from the opposition to conquest in the subcontinent of India; it arose from the London ‘mob’; it arose from the fast-developing United Irishmen; it arose from the commoners who were being fenced, hedged and enclosed from their land; and it arose from the regime in north America facing slave revolt and Indian warfare. The crisis took a monetary form with the suspension of gold payments on banknotes that occurred early in 1797, just a few months before the mutinies in ships of the Royal Navy. Payment to sailors was one of the largest single demands on currency and money of the English state. The situation seemed unprecedented. The Bank of England was forced to issue paper notes in lieu of hard, metallic cash. This was one part of the monetary crisis. The other part of it was the severe shortage of copper coin for wage payments and for the retail business of the nation of shop-keepers, as Adam Smith called it in The Wealth of Nations. All kinds of people produced tokens to enable local exchanges, among them the vegetarian, communist and spelling reformer, Thomas Spence. The 1790s began the last phase of European craft labour. It was skilled, often hand work, digitally complex and domestic. Thomas Spence was such a craftsperson, a ‘Geordie’ from Newcastle-on-Tyne, the major port for the export of coal to London, the largest market for coal. Here is one of Spence’s coins, called ‘Coal & Tyne’, showing a fanciful depiction of single-masted collier as the ships were known perhaps with a fire smoking on deck and a helmsman aft, or perhaps it is a river barge known as a ‘keel’. That smoke has not gone away. It is there still messing up the atmosphere and poisoning the air we breathe, as the geological Anthropo- cene approaches! Coal & Tyne Image: courtesy of Spink Thomas Spence loved Newcastle. His auntie lost a cow when the town commons was enclosed. Enclosure with its consequent loss of possibilities of subsistence destroyed the domestic economies and forced people into the factory regime. Silvia Federici writes, ‘to see the house and housework as the foundation of the factory system, rather than its other’, is to understand how unpaid labour of the home makes wage-labour possible.[155] Spence was furious at his auntie’s loss but powerless to stop it. Instead, he delivered a plan to the Philosophical Society of Newcastle, 8 November 1775, in which he declared that the land is a common for the people. The coal miners of the region, like Spence himself, held themselves proud. You can see it in this sailor and slop (sailor’s clothes) seller, ‘J. Spence, Slop Seller, Newcastle’, with his open jacket, sailor pants and jaunty hat. ‘J. Spence, Slop Seller, Newcastle’ was Thomas’s younger brother, Jeremiah. J. Spence, Slop Seller, Newcastle Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge Spence’s coins functioned as money rather than as medals. Thousands lay about in heaps in his shop. Nowadays, 158 different coins are attributed to him, mostly halfpenny and farthing dies. He may have owned the dies, or he may have owned a press. He used the coins as propaganda for his plan to abolish private property in land. His policy was to diffuse agitation by song, pamphlet, graffiti, newspaper and coins! Thomas Spence was a member of the London Corresponding Society founded in 1792 shortly after he arrived in London. The goal of the society was to link together, by correspondence, radicals and reformers in different parts of England; London and Sheffield, for example. They had been encouraged by the French Revolution and by Olaudah Equiano, the former slave and leader of the growing abolitionist movement in England. Spence designed a coin, ‘Before the Revolution’, showing an imprisoned man shackled to the wall and with his mouth padlocked. Between loss of commons and compulsion to factory discipline lay the condition of pauperisation and what Federici calls the ‘criminalization of the working-class.’[156] Prison and the wage become two sides of the same coin. On the obverse side of the coin, ‘After the Revolution’, he rendered a leafy tree with three men on one side holding hands and dancing, and on the other side of the tree a man sitting at a table enjoying a glass and meat (in Spence’s day the word ‘meat’ referred to food generally and not to flesh as it does in our day). Before the Revolution Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge After the Revolution Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge The theme is repeated with men dancing around the ‘Tree of Liberty’. These were planted all over France and soon became an international fixture. Besides France, England, Ireland, Scotland and the United States planted trees of liberty. The custom is seriously needed today for shade from the heat, sunlight in the winter, nuts and fruits, numerous wooden uses and oxygen to breathe. Tree of Liberty Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge In 1790 Edmund Burke wrote Reflections on the Revolution in France where he claimed ‘our manners, our civilization, and all the good things which are connected with manners and with civilization have, in this European world of ours, depended for ages upon two principles; and were indeed the result of both combined; I mean the spirit of a gentleman, and the spirit of religion’. They kept learning alive, he said, but not for long. With the French Revolution ‘learning will be cast into the mire, and trodden down under the hoofs of the swinish multitude’. Oink! Oink! Oink! Oh, how the London proletariat squealed with delight! So, Thomas Spence began publishing a weekly, one-penny newspaper called Pig’s Meat; Or, Lessons for the Swinish Multitude which is here advertised by a coin sporting the revolutionary cap of liberty on the top and a pig trampling on the headwear - the mitres and coronets - of kings and bishops below. The reformers appealed to a tradition that Spence satirises in ‘A Freeborn Englishman’. Here we see him handcuffed, gagged and shackled. The revolutionary theme of ‘the true-born Englishman’ goes back to the seventeenth century. Spence and all of his literate, plebeian comrades would know about Mr Money-love, the school mate of Mr By-ends, taught by Mr Gripe Man, a schoolmaster in Love-gain which is a market town in the County of Coveting. The ‘school master taught them the art of getting either by violence, cousenage, flattery, lying or by putting on a guise of Religion...’John Bunyan’s allegory of Pilgrims Progress was written in jail and published in 1678. He was a tinker, that is, a man who repaired pots and pans. In prison he made shoelaces. Pig’s Meat Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge A Free-Born Englishman Image: courtesy of Spink Spence quoted John Milton who also wrote in prison and who turned Christianity to revolutionary purposes. ‘Man over Man he made Not Lord’, Milton wrote in Paradise Lost and Spence quoted first in Pig’s Meat and then on a coin depicting a man and a woman in loving, naked, equal, entanglement. ‘The End of Oppression’ shows two men exulting over a bonfire of title deeds, legal papers and that parallel paper world of private property, the commodity, etc. Scenes like this were widespread in the summer of 1789 among the emeutes (means both riot and emotion) of the French peasantry. Such fires have a long history in England too, going back at least to the Peasant’s Revolt of 1381. In Spence’s time the legal apparatus sought to de-legitimise common rights. Defence of the commons sometimes required fire.[157] Man Over Man He Made Not Lord Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge The End of Oppression Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge The fabulous wealth of the British ruling class - its palaces and jewels, its stocks and gold, its green lawn and Rolls Royces - came from conquest, enclosure and slavery. So Spence struck a coin with the abolitionist image of the supplicating slave, ‘Am I Not a Man and a Brother?’ As for conquest he was fully aware of the wars against the native Americans. In fact, he wrote a pamphlet about their superiority of life where subsistence is available to all owing to the absence of landlordism: The Reign of Felicity, Being a Plan for Civilizing the Indians of North America Without Infringing on Their National or Individual Independence. He also struck a coin: ‘If rents I once consent to pay my liberty is past away’. Am I Not a Man and a Brother? Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge If Rents I Once Consent to Pay My Liberty is Past Away Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge Popular voices of criticism fired up by the French Revolution threatened both the wealth taken from native Americans and the wealth produced by Afro-Americans. War and slavery were accompanied by mechanisation, and this applied to everything including the coinage. Erasmus Darwin, the grandfather of Charles, the evolutionist, understood the danger of popular sovereignty. He wrote to a correspondent in October 1792, ‘Now Mr Pain [sic]’, the author of Rights of Man, ‘says that he thinks a monkey or a bear, or a goose may govern a kingdom as well, and at much less expense than any being in Christendom, whether idiot or madman or in his royal senses’.[158] But Erasmus also comprehended the knowledge of life forms that enclosure and conquest had appropriated from commoners. He expressed his comprehension in poetry. The Botantic Garden (1791) expressed in traditional couplets (the most conservative of verse forms) and organised in a series of cantos, Rosicrucian style, by Salamanders of Fire, Gnomes of Earth, Nymphs of Water, and Sylphs of the Air. The science of it is verified by long footnotes?[159] He describes the rolling mill and stamping press of copper coin production: With iron lips his rapid rollers seize The lengthening bars, in thin expansion squeeze; Descending screws with ponderous fly-wheels wound The tawny plates, the new medallions round Hard dies of steel the cupreous circles cramp, And with quick fall his massy hammers stamp. The Harp, the Lily and the Lion join, And George and Britain guard the sterling coin. The humble copper coins are stamped with King and Government, and the symbols of England, Ireland and France. His footnote provides the relationship between mechanisation, criminalisation and child proletarianisation. Mr. Boulton has lately constructed at Soho near Birmingham, a most magnificent apparatus for coining, which has cost him some thousand pounds; the whole machinery is moved by an improved steam-engine, which rolls the copper for halfpence finer than copper has before been rolled for the purpose of making money; it works the coupoirs or screw-presses for cutting out the circular pieces of copper; and coins both the faces and edges of the money at the same time, with such superior excellence and cheapness of workmanship, as well as with marks of such powerful machinery as most totally prevent clandestine imitation, and in consequence save many lives from the hand of the executioner; a circumstance worthy the attention of a great minister. If a civic crown was given in Rome for preserving the life of one citizen, Mr. Boulton should be covered with garlands of oak! By this machinery four boys of ten or twelve years old are capable of striking thirty thousand guineas in an hour, and the machine itself keeps an unerring account of the pieces struck [just in case one of the boys should be tempted to pocket one or two]. But even the proud wearer of the civic crown could not unlock that connection between mechanisation and criminalisation. About the same time a carpenter in Manchester came to the White Horse public house last Christmas [1800] ‘to share his Club money’. He met Boulton’s night watchman and they hatched a plan to rob the manufactory at Soho, on a Tuesday night, because the men were paid on Wednesday. They found ‘a quantity of Guineas’. They were joined by ‘Bromwich’ George who had previously robbed Boulton of a great deal of copper. Wall surrounded the works and William Fouldes escaped over it but took a bad fall and a wagon ran over his arm breaking it?[160] The physician turned him in. Wherever you look at enclosures you will find ‘crime’. I put quotation marks around the word ‘crime’ only to remind us that common people commoned well before they thieved. Political philosophy tells us that state power monopolises money and force. Erasmus Darwin showed us money, now for force. Since the European Renaissance cannon was the weapon of choice on land or sea because besides killing people it could knock down walls, demolish cities or destroy ships. Artillery conquered the world. For the English empire cannons were made at the Carron Works in Falkirk, Scotland, where its infernal iron blast furnaces lit up the sky. In the 1770s the works were enclosed behind a wall ‘to make them secure against theft and petty pilfering’?[161] In 1787 Bobbie Burns tried to enter but was turned away. He wrote a poem comparing the place to Hell and its keeper to Satan. Pilfering continued. Watchmen were employed to patrol it constantly day and night. Despite frequent whippings, Scots workers would not work. Hundreds were employed. The Scottish miner was bound for life to his coalmine in a form of slavery. The company took pauper boys from the poor house in even yet another form of coerced labor. The owners even paid the hangman. One of the workers here, injured on the job, made his way to London and the founding of the London Corresponding Society. Everything was done in the midst of war that had commenced in February 1793 against the French republic which had recently put King Louis XVI to the guillotine. Devastation in the Ohio Valley as settlers burned villages and massacred natives; arson in County Armagh where the Orange Order threw peasants out of their cottages which they then burnt; on the continent of Europe huge armies fed themselves by foraging and robbing whole villages. ‘One Only Master Grasps the Whole Domain’ is a chilling rendition of a devastated village. The phrase is quoted in his newspaper, Pig’s Meat, and comes from the Irishman, Oliver Goldsmith, whose poem The Deserted Village (1760) showed that what happened in the colonies was prologue to what would happen in the metropolis: sports are fled, the tyrant governs supreme, desolation covers the green, the river is choked, the children flee as refugees. Spence wrote in 1801, ‘they would make us believe that the more they rob us the better we thrive... and still the cry is work - work, ye are idle - ye are idle’. Only One Master Grasps the Whole Domain Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge Spence’s coin of the shepherd is an idyll of supine relaxation; there is no anxiety here, under a tree gazing across the meadow to the highlands beyond. This is the opposite of our usual images of the period, unrelieved toil and moil, misery and hell. Spence and the poor and humble people once upon a time had a life to live. Now such posture was reserved for the upper class, the class of idlers. Reclining Shepherd Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge Take such a man and put him to war leaving a widow behind, and you have the theme of the Romantic poetry of the period. The soldier’s craft is death: kill or be killed. Some resisted war, others mutinied in the midst of it. ‘Who Know Their Rights and Knowing Dare Maintain’ refers to a long tradition in which rights included freedom from unthinking obedience and freedom to participate in decisions risking life. Such rights could be found in law but in times of popular sovereignty when laws became democratic they might be found in the will of the people. Spence quotes a poem, ‘Ode in Imitation of Alcaeus’. What constitutes a State?... Men, who their duties know, But knowing their rights, and knowing, dare maintain. Who Know Their Rights and Knowing Dare Maintain Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge A government spy informs us that Thomas Spence took up the pike himself, and practised with others upstairs in his High Holborn book stall. A blade as long as your forearm and sharper than your nails was attached to a pole, sometimes sixteen feet long. Many of them anchored in the ground and held at an angle could repel a cavalry charge. It was the people’s weapon. John Oswald, the vegetarian and Edinburgh artisan, developed the theory and practice of the people’s weapon among the sans-culottes of Paris. ‘A pike in de ’tatch’ became proverbial among Irish cottagers. London radicals talked to soldiers where they were quartered in public houses. Later the authorities built barracks to isolate soldiers from civilians to prevent them talking with each other. ‘We are also the people.’ This phrase comes from the famous 15th chapter of Volney’s Ruins of Empire, a book more influential even than Thomas Paine’s Rights of Man. The white supremacist culture of the United States has ignored it because it puts the origin of civilisation in Africa instead of Europe. To Volney society is divided between the privileged class and the labouring class. The military steps forward to explain the justice of the arrangement, ‘The people are timid, let us menace them; they only obey force. Soldiers, chastise this insolent rabble!’ The people reply, ‘Soldiers! You are of our own blood; will you strike your brothers?’ And the soldiers, grounding their arms, said to their officers, ‘We are also the people.’ We Also Are the People Image: courtesy of Baldwin’s of St. James’s The fleet of war, the fleet of commerce, the coastal fleet - indeed, the sailing vessels of other nations all depended on ‘Jack Tar’, the British sailor. He was the most international of the proletariat and, like the people of west Africa, he was not ‘recruited’ but kidnapped by gangs of uniformed bullies who impressed him into His Majesty’s service. The press-gangs snatched you off the street. Sailors hoisted the red flag of battle in the spring of 1797, signaling the largest mutiny in British history. It went on for a considerable time. While it ended violently with more than 30 hanged, at least there were permanent victories, including 16 ounces in the pound instead of fewer to favour the ship’s purser. Here is Spence’s treatment of the press-gang, ‘British Liberty displayed’. British Liberty Displayed Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge The exercise of strength, stamina, speed and skill is always a joy to behold, and contests of such have been part of games and sport for millennia. At first they may have been necessary to the hunt; then they became part of training for war. In the 1790s however they became not so much an adjunct to the craft of soldiering as a gladiatorial celebration of cruelty and an amusement for the aristocracy, as pointed out in ‘Fashionable Amusement’. Fashionable Amusement Image: courtesy of Knightsbridge Coins Without gloves and no holds barred, boxing matches were one of many blood sports, including bear baiting and cock fighting. Mutual pummelling then, as ever since, was one of the only ways a man could grasp the next rung up the ladder in these lands of opportunity where the ladders of social success depended on crushing those below. Thus, in a country that was anti-Irish, white supremacist and anti-Semitic, preceding the Irishmen and African-Americans as the champion boxers of the day were Jews - and ‘Daniel Mendoza’ was their champion, opening a school about 1787. Brutalised as it was, this proletariat could take a punch. Erasmus Darwin dedicates Phytologia; Or, The Philosophy of Agriculture and Gardening (1800) to Sir John Sinclair, President of the Board of Agriculture, the advocate, promoter and theorist of enclosure. He also wrote to Boulton concerning the enclosure of Needwood forest. His last book was called The Temple of Nature; Or, The Origin of Society (1803). He divided bodily action into four classes - irritation, sensation, volition and association. Under volition he includes credulity which is endemic to ‘the bulk of mankind’ with its fears of poverty, death and hell; superstitious hope (spes religiosa), a ‘maniacal hallucination’ and orci timor or the fear of hell. Language, tools and money are the defining characteristics of human nature. D. Mendoza Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge Thy potent acts, VOLITION, still attend The means of pleasure to secure the end; To express his wishes and his wants design’d Language, the means, distinguishes Mankind; For future works in Art’s ingenious schools His hands unwearied form and finish tools; He toils for money future bliss to share, And shouts to Heaven his mercenary prayer. After the Two Acts were passed in December 1795, one of which prohibited assemblies of people without prior authorisation from the magistracy, the other putting a gag on such speech or print which the government deemed subversive, Spence in characteristic simplicity coined ‘Mum’. Mum Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge These Acts merely joined the encrustations of the ancient apparatus of law which was slow, expensive and partial to the interests of the propertied, and so Spence styled himself in court as ‘the unfee’d advocate of the disinherited seed of Adam’. Spence’s reaction was sarcastic, ‘If the law requires it we will walk thus’. If the Law Requires It We Will Walk Thus Image: courtesy of Baldwin’s of St. James’s Proletarians had become beasts of burden. Their labours carried product from one point of the earth’s surface to another, or from beneath the surface on upto the top of it! They also were exploited via money rents and taxes. In ‘I was an ass to bear the first pair’ the panniers are labelled ‘rents’ and ‘taxes’. Indeed, these were effective tools of proletarianisation: how else can you get money without risk of hanging? I Was an Ass to Bear the First Pair Image: courtesy of A.H. Baldwin’s & Sons/Courtney Buckingham Capitalist accumulation is told to London children as a feline fable of fortune. It goes like this. Dick Whittington, a poor orphan, works as a kitchen scullion for a cruel master in Leadenhall. One day Dick escapes and walks north with his cat to Highgate Hill but changes his mind when he hears Bow Bells ringing and seeming to say, ‘turn again, turn again’. So Dick returns and, with his cat, ventures on one of the cruel merchant’s ships. The cat keeps the ship’s rat population down and in Istanbul preserves a feast from vermin. When it is discovered that the cat is pregnant, the Moors buy her for a huge amount of gold, worth much more than the entire cargo of the ship. In consequence, back in London Whittington finds himself rich beyond imagining. He becomes Lord Mayor and does good works such as re-building Newgate Prison. It would be amusing to know how Thomas Spence would re-tell this story about London, city of gold and prisons, and Istanbul, city of bridges and cats. Spence loved animals, so he must have had a cat and probably a good ratter. A cat which was a predator, silent and graceful, ‘My freedom I among slaves enjoy’. My freedom I among slaves enjoy Image: © The Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge [147] Karl Marx, Capital, vol. 1, chapter 3, section 2, subsection c. [148] C. George Caffentzis, Clipped Coins, Abused Words & Civil Government: John Locke’s Theory of Money (New York: Autonomedia, 1989) p. 163. [149] Lawrence Weschler, Boggs: A Comedy of Values (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999) and William Grimes, ‘J.S.G. Boggs, artist, dies at 62; he made money. Literally’, New York Times, 27 January 2017. [150] R.H. 'Thompson, ‘The Dies of Thomas Spence (1750-1814)’, C.E. Blunt et al. (eds), The British Numismatic Journal, 38 (1969), pp. 126-62. [151] The Old Bailey, Proceedings, 27 October 1790. [152] C. George Caffentzis, Exciting the Industry of Mankind: George Berkeley’s Philosophy of Money (Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers, 2000) p. 286. [153] After neglect and scholarly put-downs Thomas Spence is at last coming into his own. See the webpage of the Thomas Spence Society ([[http://www.thomas-spence-so-ciety.co.uk/][www.thomas-spence-so- ciety.co.uk/]]), and also the important collection of essays in Alastair Bonnett and Keith Armstrong (eds), Thomas Spence: The Poor Man’s Revolutionary (London: Breviary Stuff, 2014). [154] See his article, ‘Spence’s Countermarked Tokens’, which is reproduced on the Spence Society webpage. [155] Silvia Federici, Revolution at Point Zero: Housework, Reproduction, and Feminist Struggle (Oakland: PM Press, 2012), p. 6. [156] Siliva Federici, Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body, and Primitive Accumulation (New York: Autonomedia, 2004), pp. 75-80. [157] I personally am grateful to those who destroyed by fire the Media, Pennsylvania draft records during the 1960s. [158] Desmond King-Hele, Doctor of Revolution: The Life and Genius of Erasmus Darwin (London: Faber & Faber, 1977), p. 229. [159] The Botanic Garden consists of two books published earlier, The Economy of Vegetation, and The Loves of Plants. [160] Birmingham Central Reference Library. Boulton & Watt MSS. ‘The Examination of William Fouldes’, 10 April 1801. [161] R.H. Campbell, Carron Company (Edinburgh: Oliver and Royal, 1961), p. 38.
The goal of inter-changeability, still very elusive, Lee believed, became an exacting exercise that imposed a bureaucratic system upon the armoury (in 1820) in its attempt to prevent any deviation from the standard pattern.[224]Anticipating assembly lines, this pursuit led to the aligning of machines that facilitated sequential production and flows to virtually eliminate hand labour. For example, US Steel emerges less than two decades after the infamous Homestead strike which reshaped power relations in favour of owners.[225] This strike, and its reshaping of relations, occurred just as the industry standardised production to empower capital to win the conflict.[226] Thus, as the business enterprise detached leading capitalists - like J.P. Morgan - from production, the machine process ensured labour was simultaneously subjected to planned, bureaucratic authority designed to enhance control from above. Furthermore, the organisational form changed as a result of management developments post 1890.[227] Stone suggests modern bureaucratic organisations developed out of such struggles. So dominant was this form to become, Chandler suggested the ‘basic organisational structure and the basic techniques of coordinating and controlling their operation have changed little’. Central here is the transferring of production knowledge from workers to management, the emergence of semi-skilled workers, the development of internal labour markets, the new importance of promotion and career paths, the increased use of technology, the rise of the problem of motivation, the attempted individualising of the work place, and the increased use of formal education to hire management cadres. The struggle over the steel industry between 1890 and 1920 is key to the modern corporation. It is also a place where finance capital became entrenched.[228] The Homestead strike restructured steel and ended previous relations between capital and labour - it announced a changing organic composition of labour. In the ensuing thirty years the industry was radically transformed through a machine process involving a minute division of labour.[229] The industry underwent three changes - one, new technology altered production and job structures; two as a result of this, new job structures emerged creating new problems and solutions for motivating and disciplining a labour force no longer capable of self-organising production; and three, capital pursued lasting control over the entire labour process. Steel accepted costs, new problems, new management layers, and it restructured work to destroy worker self-organisation and control of knowledge - the knowledge worker was to be stamped out, made dependent and the division of labour would allow for new a University/College trained, elite led authority.[230] What emerges is the bureaucratic organisational form.[231] Within this transition, despite increasing productivity per worker, skilled workers’ pay declined. For example, a Homestead Roller in 1899-92 could expect $14 per tonnage, yet by 1908 he could expect $4.75. Hence, steel broke the connection between productivity and wages[232] or ‘labour-time expended and the price of commodities sold’[233] - a connection that was re-established as a central block of the New DeaF[234] and the dismantling of which is so important to contemporary financialisation[235] Within this transition, labour’s composition also changed. From 1890-1910 the total labour force grew by 129 per cent. However, native born skilled white workers only grew by 55 per cent and immigrants from Germany and the British Isles (where overseas skilled workers generally originated) declined by 18 per cent. In contrast, Afro-Americans grew by 165 per cent. Most remarkably, Southern and Eastern Europeans expanded by 227 per cent, so whereas in 1890 they made up less than 10 per cent of the workforce, by 1910 they were nearly half of it.[236] By pulling in new, non-industrial sources of labour (a form of primitive accumulation),[237] steel shifted from skilled and unskilled to semi-skilled labour, creating the mass industrial working class. This deskilling of tasks meant workers became increasingly homogenised and hence more likely to experience collective grievances and see themselves as a mass. Taylor - who advocated simultaneously standardising and individualising workers - raised concerns such a process might massify labour. The solution proposed by management involved using calculative, norm-inducing piece rates to individualise pay, thereby pitting worker against worker.[238] This created an internal labour market with elongated promotion ladders designed to stoke desire, develop certain potentialities and inhibit others, and entrench a world of competitive individualism.[239] These tactics were designed to suggest workers were competing with one another and that their individual interest and the company interest were the same, even, or especially, as workers themselves became standardised, inter-changeable and dependent - the US Steel, General Motors, Du Pont and Rasbok sponsored schemes should be viewed in this light. These systems simultaneously sought to generate discipline and individualisation - they were trying to create disciplined organisations now workers had finally been stripped of control, independence and access to their means of production outside of wage dependency - Edwards called it a totalitarian organisation. At the heart of the machine process is the idea - key to Smith’s pin factory - that labour can be deskilled, made dependent, compared and measured.[240] *** Class Composition and the Realignment of the Machine Process and Business Enterprise One reaction to craft labour’s monopoly of knowledge was scientific management.[241] Following Tronti[242] argument that the emergence of the capitalist class as a class is forged in labour’s resistance to the discipline of the production process, workers generated change and redeveloped the capitalist class through insubordination. It is in this light we should understand standardisation. Making things and people inter-changeable and standardised enables ease of management via the concentration of knowledge in management systems, technologies and the capacity to measure within a ‘concatenation of industrial processes’. As Daniel Bell expressed it:
The meaning of industrialisation did not arise with the introduction of factories, it arose out of the measurement of work. It’s when work can be measured, when you can hitch a man to a job. When you can put a harness on him and measure his output in terms of a single piece and pay him by the piece or by the hour that you have got modern industrialisation?[243]Taylorism epitomises the capitalist tendency towards more and greater standardisation, bureaucracy, and planning[244] - capitalist planning grows as the economy becomes more complex. It does so through bureaucracy, technology, labour management, science, etc. Veblen too, and in a contemporary setting, Nolan[245] and Hymer, emphasise the use of bureaucracy, science, technology, organisation, marketing and brands to create the real subsumption of labour to capital and ‘planned’ monopolies and oligopolies. Planning allows the machine process to grow production and, upon this, it enables finance to act as strategic investment. As such, although de-coupled, both are tied.[246] Once standardisation emerges as a powerful corporate force, planning becomes necessary because having deliberately weakened craft capacity to self-organise production, capitalism massified the working class.[247] This brought two problems in its wake. Firstly, the process of massification created the industrial working class on a larger scale, which allowed it a certain autonomy. Secondly, because of its new centrality to consumption and production, this industrial class produced future development. The altered class composition of monopoly capitalism brought about by the new relations of (mass) production, became evident with the Great Crash and destroyed laissez-faire capitalism. Keynes highlighted this. He rejected the Versailles Treaty’s destruction of the German economy because it undermined demand and risked pushing Germany east towards the Soviet Union with potentially dire consequences for capitalism. Keynes saw the UK 1926 General Strike as a moment of shifting class forces that demonstrated the capacity of the working class to challenge capitalism and/or preserve it through consumer demand, and to thereby act as the source of capitalism’s development.[248] Intervention, not laissez-faire, was capitalism’s future because the state became ‘the most important’ entrepreneur.[249] State intervention was not new, e.g. Bismarck had used it to weaken the left in Germany. However, this new intervention acknowledged the working class as the driver of the economy. A central feature of this was the belief that insecurity - a mainstay of neo-liberal financialisation[250] - was no longer viable as the motor of economic change.[251] Echoing Veblen, Keynes highlighted uncertainty and disequilibrium as ‘enabling great inequalities of wealth to come about’ thereby threatening capitalism, and called for states to direct economies. The power of the industrial working class to shift class forces lay in its necessary consumption and ability to disrupt production?[252] The working class could demand that the business enterprise and the machine process were realigned to challenge rentiers'[253] and the untrammelled rights of property.'[254] The New Deal/Keynesianism recognised these changed class forces precisely to pursue stability and a new form of equilibrium located in the primary economic actor - the state. One sees this in New Deal legislation directed at the banks blamed for the crisis. This legislation split investment from commercial banking; enabled the Federal Reserve Bank to tightly regulate bank loans for investing (speculating) in securities; introduced interest ceilings on time and savings deposits via Regulation Q, partially removed housing from the market; and provided economic stability by limiting the boom and bust of speculation.[255] A constellation of class forces aligned to support such limitations to laissez-faire financialisation. Equilibrium was further achieved through full employment, sufficient demand, higher incomes, and a propensity to consume within the working class (partly to manage working class political autonomy).[256] This militated against the crisis and disequilibrium prioritised by the business enterprise. The balance of class forces moved away from the business enterprise towards the machine process. The massification of the working class through the destruction of craft and standardisation first encouraged finan- cialisation, but then undermined it. *** Class Composition and the De-coupling of the Machine Process and the Business Enterprise By the 1960s the New Deal was unravelling. The development of inequality in the 1960s/1970s enabled an inter-class alliance of owners, top management, and a subordinate passive class of salaried earners to create a two-tier capitalism. This broke the Keynesian compromise.[257] As Veblen predicted, and Hymer demonstrated, by the 1970s, US capital was altered through a global division of labour that enabled corporations to increase profitability by re-routing the machine process and planning production across ever increasing spatial terrains to pursue cheap labour, new markets, pliable states and value extraction.[258] This shift weakened labour in its core heartlands but, primitive accumulation-like, it also opened up new sources of labour and new fields of exploitation.[259] Capital, via the international division of labour, could force the ‘interstate federalism’ advocated by Hayek at the height of the New Deal. States and supra-state agencies altered regulation systems e.g. the US New Deal system was dismantled.[260] Individual states also undermined organised labour through legislative changes, economic policies, globalisation, direct attacks on rights, etc.[261] And finally, organisations downgraded collective bargaining and unions in a variety of ways through individualised management forms, new public management, human resources, etc. All of this enabled capitalist social relations to colonise new spheres of society, allow increases in public and private debt, empower finance capital, and undermine democracy[262] One outcome was the rapid rise in social inequality as working-class gains were rolled back and society returned to levels of inequality comparable to the early twentieth century.[263] These forces disorganised relations between the machine process and business enterprise to allow a new era of financialisation and create the disequilibrium or crises which Veblen suggested were beneficial to finance. For example, echoing Rockefeller management of the Colorado Fuel and Iron Company, Rossman and Greenfield highlight how investment fund owners of companies such as Gate Gourmet, the airline food provider, disavow any obligation to manage labour/labour processes by arguing they merely invest in companies that others manage and are responsible for. Nolan calls this ‘a new “separation of ownership and control” in which the boundaries of the firm become blurred’. This disorganisation disempowered (elements of) labour. It did so by shifting much of the machine process overseas in search of new labour[264] and/or disembowelling labour so much that industries which were once shipped overseas could make a return to core cities, e.g. textiles. The return to financialisation emerges in the wake of the machine process and consolidation movements Veblen discussed. Nolan highlights how Western firms consolidated and concentrated to take control of global markets in key industries. They now act as ‘systems integrators’ which dominate suppliers and firms within their global value chains to squeeze value via what he calls the ‘cascade effect’. We should not see the firm as its legal entity, but as one that increasingly plans and coordinates the activities of others firms though its oligopolistic power (as Morgan did with US Steel). Banks are central to this change.[265] Between 1997 and 2006 of the biggest 1000 banks, the share of total assets of the top 25 banks increased from 28 per cent to 41. This concentration was intensified post 2008 financial crisis so that by 2009, the figure was 45 per cent. Within asset management - a key element of financialisation and its relationship to labour[266] - globalisation also led to concentration. Total funds under the Global 500 grew from $25 trillion to $62 trillion between 1997 and 2009 but within this the top 50 management funds accounted for 61 per cent (up from 57 percent). Much of this is US dominated - although potentially less tied to the nation-state than the past.[267] Since the rise of the crises of the New Deal - social, fiscal and legitimation - the power of financialisation has grown rapidly so that financial sector profits represent more than 40 per cent of US total profits in 2001 - which is an underestimation because it does not include the financialised activities of non-financial corporations, like GE or Ford.[268] Financial profits squeezed out productive profits so that organisations are administered solely to benefit property owners who see value extracted elsewhere come to them. These changes arose with the reconfigured class relations of the post-1970s. Class re-composition has allowed financialisation to return (albeit different to the past). *** Conclusion This chapter demonstrates how standardisation of the (labour) machine process and the (financialised) business enterprise connect depending on how class (re)composition impacts financialisation. These relations centralise and subordinate knowledge of the production process to capitalist valorisation. Without control of the division of labour, financialisation cannot succeed because it feeds off disequilibrium and crises generated through standardisation: investors need to be able to say we can get a good return here but even better there. Financialisation is the enacting of this prioritisation of capital over any other need or activity. The re-composition of class in the old industrial heartlands means the end of financialisation will not emerge anytime soon. Indeed, what we have witnessed with this crisis, unlike the great Crash, has been an intensification of financialisa- tion?[269] However, given the globalisation of the machine process and the business enterprise, it seems safe to say the only solution to rising inequality and crises driven by financialisation’s lop-sidedness, is global. This is some way off and hence social, economic and political instability seems likely to be with us for the long term. [162] William Lazonick and Mary O’Sullivan, ‘Maximising Shareholder Value: A New Ideology for Corporate Governance’, Economy and Society, 29(1), 2000, pp. 13[-]35. [163] Greta R. Krippner, Capitalizing on Crisis: The Political Origins of the Rise of Finance (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2011). [164] Gerard Dumenil and Dominique Levy, ‘Neoliberal Income Trends’, New Left Review, 30, Nov/Dec 2004, pp. 105-33. [165] Andrew G. Haldane, ‘Who Owns a Company?’ Speech given to University of Edinburgh Corporate Finance Conference, 22 May 2005. At [[http://www.bis.org/review/][www.bis.org/review/]] r150811a.pdf. [166] James Burnham, The Managerial Revolution: What is Happening in the World (Westport Connecticut: Greenwood Press Publishers, 1941). [167] For example, Ismail Erturk, Judy Froud, Sukdhev Johal, Adam Leaver and Karel Williams, Financialization at Work (London: Routledge, 2008). [168] Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, Empire (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2000); Christian Marazzi, Capital and Language: From the New Economy to the War Economy (South Pasedena, CA: Semiotext(e), 2008); Christian Marazzi, Capital and Affects: The Politics of the Language Economy (South Pasedena, CA: Semiotext(e), 2011). [169] Jean Cushen and Paul Thompson, ‘Financialization and Value: why labor and the labor process still matter’, Work, Employment and Society, 30(2), 2016, pp. 352-65. [170] Krippner, Capitalizing on Crisis: The Political Origins of the Rise of Finance (2011), pp. 10-14. [171] Thorstein Veblen, The Theory of the Business Enterprise (Mansfield Center, CT: Martino Publishing, 2013), p. 11. [172] Karl Marx, Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, Vol. 1 (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1976), pp. 975-1060. [173] Veblen, The Theory of the Business Enterprise (2013), pp. 16-37; Veblen, ‘On the Nature of Capital: Investment, Intangible Assets, and the Pecuniary Magnate’, The Quarterly Journal of Economics, 23(1), 1908, pp. 104-36. [174] Veblen, The Theory of the Business Enterprise (2013), pp. 131-4; Peter Rossman and Gerard Greenfield, ‘Financialization: New Routes to Profit, New Challenges for Trade Unions’, Labor Education, the quarterly review of the ILO Bureau for Workers’ Activities, 1/2006 (No. 142), 2006, pp. 1-10. [175] Veblen, The Theory of the Business Enterprise (2013), pp. 58-9. [176] Howard Gitelman, Legacy of the Ludlow Massacre: A Chapter in American Industrial Relations (Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania Press, 1988). [177] Wolfgang Streeck, Buying Time: The Delayed Crisis of Democratic Capitalism (London: Verso, 2014). [178] Gitelman, Legacy of the Ludlow Massacre: A Chapter in American Industrial Relations (1988), p. 160. [179] David Brody, Labor in Crisis: The Steel Strike of 1919 (Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1987), p. 19. [180] On this spectrum, see George Caffentzis, ‘Immeasurable Value? An essay on Marx’s Legacy’, The Commoner, 10, 2005, pp. 87-114. [181] Brody, Labor in Crisis: The Steel Strike of 1919 (1987), p. 22. [182] Richard T. Holden, ‘The Original Management Incentive Schemes’, Journal of Economic Perspectives, 19(4), 2005, pp. 135-44. [183] John K. Galbraith, The Great Crash 1929 (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1954), pp. 77-9. [184] Veblen, The Theory of the Business Enterprise (2013), p. 14. [185] Veblen, ‘On the Nature of Capital: Investment, Intangible Assets, and the Pecuniary Magnate’, (1908), pp. 107-9. This is not to say that industrial relations or the labour problem disappeared - far from it, the early twentieth century was a period of historic industrial unrest [see Brody, Labor in Crisis: The Steel Strike of 1919 (1987); David Montgomery, The Fall of the House of Labor] (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987). [186] Caffentzis, ‘Immeasurable Value, an Essay on Morx’s Legacy’, p. 105. [187] Tawney, ‘Against the Rentier and Financier’ (2008), in Ismail Erturk, Judy Froud, Sukdhev Johal, Adam Leaver and Karel Williams (eds), Financialization at Work (London: Routledge) pp. 55-62. [188] Veblen, The Theory of the Business Enterprise (2013), pp. 18-20; Veblen, ‘On the Nature of Capital’ (1908). [189] Veblen, ‘On the Nature of Capital’ (1908) p. 192, note 7. [190] Hardt and Negri, Empire (2000), pp. 353-9. [191] Alfred D. Chandler ‘The American System and Modern Management’ in Mayr, O. and Post, R.C. (eds), Yankee Enterprise: The Rise of the American System of Manufactures (Washington DC: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1981), pp. 153-70. [192] David A. Hounshell, From the American System to Mass Production, 1800-1932: The Development of Manufacturing Technology in the United States (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1984). [193] Eugene S. Ferguson, ‘History and Historiography’ in Mayr, O. and Post, R.C. (eds), Yankee Enterprise: The Rise of the American System of Manufactures (Washington DC: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1981), pp. 1-23. [194] Gerard Hanlon, The Dark Side of Management: A Secret History of Management Theory (London: Routledge, 2016); Montgomery, The Fall of the House of Labor (1987). [195] Veblen, ‘On the Nature of Capital’ (1908), pp. 115-18; Veblen, The Theory of the Business Enterprise (2013), pp. 30-6, 84-6. [196] Hounshell, From the American System to Mass Production, 1800-1932: The Development of Manufacturing Technology in the United States (1984), p. 89. [197] Hounshell, From the American System to Mass Production, 1800-1932: The Development of Manufacturing Technology in the United States (1984), p. 97. [198] Veblen, The Theory of the Business Enterprise (2013), p. 14. [199] Stephen Hymer, ‘The Efficiency (Contradictions) of Multinational Corporations’, American Economic Review, 60(2), 1970, pp. 441-8; Folker Frobel, Jurgen Heinrichs and Otto Kreye, ‘The New International Division of Labor’, Social Science Information, 17, 1978, pp. 123-42. [200] Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri (eds), Labor of Dionysus: A Critique of the StateForm (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994), pp. 23-52. [201] Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Remonstrances Relating to the Amherst Carriage Company, House of Representatives No. 38 (1837). [202] Commonwealth of Massachusetts, Petitions and Remonstrances Relating to the Amherst Carriage Company, House of Representatives No. 33 (1838), p. 10. [203] Montgomery, The Fall of the House of Labor (1987); Hanlon, The Dark Side of Management: A Secret History of Management Theory (2016); Stephen Wilentz, Chants Democratic: New York City & the Rise of the American Working Class, 17881850, Twentieth Anniversary Edition (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004). [204] Wilentz, Chants Democratic: New York City & the Rise of the American Working Class, 1788-1850, Twentieth Anniversary Edition, p. 27, ft. 13. [205] Wilentz, Chants Democratic: New York City & the Rise of the American Working Class, 1788-1850, Twentieth Anniversary Edition, p. 26. [206] Importantly, craft workers themselves were at least partially capitalists and were often involved in creating corporations thus there was intra-craft conflict between those craft workers seeking to maintain traditional working patterns and craftcapitalists intent on destroying these (see Wilentz, Chants Democratic: New York City & the Rise of the American Working Class, 1788-1850, Twentieth Anniversary Edition). Indeed, Marx comments on it on numerous occasions e.g. Irish journeymen bakers seeking to resist the intensification of work and, more substantially, in his analysis of the formal subsumption of labour to capital. See Henry Roland, ‘Six examples of Successful Shop Management V’, The Engineering Magazine, XII (1897), who suggests craftsmen exploited those they controlled, but also see those who argue craftsmen often protected junior staff from the vagaries of markets (see John Buttrick, ‘The Inside Contract’, Journal of Economic History, 12(3), 1952; Ernst J. Englander, ‘The Inside Contract System of Production and Organization: A Neglected aspect of the History of the Firm’, Labor History, 28(4), 1987. [207] Roland, ‘Six examples of Successful Shop Management V’, The Engineering Magazine, XII (1897), pp. 994-1000. [208] Dan Clawson, Bureaucracy and the Labor Process: The Transformation of US Industry, 1860-1920 (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1980); Ferguson, ‘History and Historiography’ (1981); Chandler ‘The American System and Modern Management’ (1981); Hounshell, From the American System to Mass Production, 1800-1932: The Development of Manufacturing Technology in the United States (1984). [209] John Buttrick, ‘The Inside Contract’, Journal of Economic History, 12(3), 1952, pp. 205-21; Hanlon,. The Dark Side of Management: A Secret History of Management Theory (2016). [210] Chandler, ‘The American System and Modern Management’ (1981). [211] Roland, Buttrick, Alfred D. Chandler, ‘The American System and Modern Management’ (1981). [212] Harold F. Williamson, Winchester - The Gun That Won The West (New York: A. S. Barnes and Company Ltd, 1952) p. 21. [213] Horace L. Arnold, Horace L. ‘Modern Machine-Shop Economics: The Newer Types of Metal Cutting Machines’, The Engineering Magazine, XI, April-September (1896) pp. 883-904. [214] Frederick W. Taylor, ‘Shop Management’, ASME Transactions 24, (1903), pp. 1337-480. [215] see also Horace L. Arnold, ‘Modern Machine-Shop Economics: The First Principles in the Management of Men’, The Engineering Magazine, XI, April-September (1896), pp. 1089-96. [216] Katherine Stone, ‘The Origin of Job Structures in the Steel Industry’, Radical America 7(6), 1973, pp. 19-66; Montgomery, The Fall of the House of Labor (1987); Brody, Labor in Crisis: The Steel Strike of1919 (1987). [217] Ferguson, ‘History and Historiography’ (1981), p. 10. [218] Englander, ‘The Inside Contract System of Production and Organization: A Neglected aspect of the History of the Firm’ (1987), pp. 429-46. [219] Williamson, Winchester - The Gun That Won The West (1952), pp. 30, 395, note 3. [220] Williamson, Winchester - The Gun That Won The West (1952), p. 89. [221] Hanlon, The Dark Side of Management: A Secret History of Management Theory, (2016), p. 99. [222] Chandler, ‘The American System and Modern Management’ (1981). [223] Clawson, Bureaucracy and the Labor Process: The Transformation of US Industry, 1860-1920 (1980). [224] Hounshell, From the American System to Mass Production, 1800-1932: The Development ofManufacturing Technology in the United States (1984), p. 35 - date added. [225] See Montgomery, The Fall ofthe House ofLabor (1987) on craft labour’s power prior to this. [226] Brody, Labor in Crisis: The Steel Strike of1919 (1987), p. 18. [227] Stone, ‘The Origin of Job Structures in the Steel Industry’ (1973); Montgomery, The Fall of the House of Labor (1987), p. 41, ft. 99, acknowledges the influence of Stone’s essay, but suggests she ‘seriously overestimates both the pace and extent of the steel industry’s adoption of a job hierarchy based on “scientific management” principles’. Nevertheless, what Stone does highlight is the emergence of many of the management tactics and organizational strategies which dominated much of the twentieth century. [228] Brody, Labor in Crisis: The Steel Strike of 1919 (1987). [229] Stone, ‘The Origin of Job Structures in the Steel Industry’ (1973). [230] Williamson, Winchester - The Gun That Won The West (1952), pp. 136-7. [231] Richard Edwards, Contested Terrain: The Transformation of the Workplace in the Twentieth Century (New York: Basic Books, 1979); Clawson, Bureaucracy and the Labor Process: The Transformation of US Industry, 1860-1920 (1980). [232] Brody, Labor in Crisis: The Steel Strike of 1919 (1987), p. 15. [233] Caffentzis, ‘Immeasurable Value, an Essay on Marx’s Legacy’, p. 105. [234] Michel Aglietta, A Theory of Capitalist Regulation: The US Experience (London: Verso, 2000). [235] Rossman and Greenfield, ‘Financialization: New Routes to Profit, New Challenges for Trade Unions’ (2006). [236] Montgomery, The Fall ofthe House ofLabor (1987), p. 42. [237] Sylvia Federici, Caliban and the Witch. Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation (New York: Autonomedia, 2004), pp. 63-4. [238] Marx, Capital: A critique of Political Economy, (1976), pp. 692-701. [239] Taylor, ‘Shop Management’ (1903), p. 1415. [240] Arnold, ‘Modern Machine-Shop Economics: The First Principles in the Management of Men’ (1896), and Arnold, ‘Modern Machine-Shop Economics: The Newer Types of Metal Cutting Machines’. [241] Gerard Hanlon, The Dark Side of Management: A Secret History of Management Theory (2016), pp. 89-124. [242] Mario Tronti, Strategy of Refusal (1965). At: [[http://operaisoinenglish.wordpress][http://operaisoinenglish.wordpress.com/2010/09/30/strategy-of-refusal/]] (retrieved January 2013). [243] Quoted in Herbert Marcuse, One Dimensional Man: Studies in the Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society (London: Routledge, 1964), p. 29. Importantly, this increasing rise in the capital intensity of the organic composition of capital is predicated on the countervailing need to access new areas of surplus value and labour in the form of primitive accumulation (see Caffentzis, ‘Immeasurable Value, an Essay on Marx’s Legacy’, p. 107; Federici, ‘Caliban and the Witch. Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation’ (2004). [244] Hymer, ‘The Efficiency (Contradictions) of Multinational Corporations’ (1970). [245] Peter Nolan, Is China Buying the World? (London, Polity Press, 2012). [246] Veblen, The Theory ofthe Business Enterprise (2013). [247] Hardt and Negri, Empire (2000). [248] Ibid. [249] John Maynard Keynes, Essays in Persuasion (New York, Classic House Books, 2009), p. 67. [250] Friedrich A. Hayek, Individualism and Economic Order (London: Chicago University Press, 1948). [251] Hardt and Negri, Empire. [252] Gerard Hanlon, The Dark Side of Management: A Secret History of Management Theory (London: Routledge, 2016). [253] Keynes, Essays in Persuasion (2009). [254] Tawney, ‘Against the Rentier and Financier’ (2008). [255] Krippner, Capitalizing on Crisis: The Political Origins of the Rise of Finance (2011), pp. 60-3. [256] Hardt and Negri, Empire. [257] Dumenil and Levy, ‘Neoliberal Income Trends’, New Left Review, 30 (Nov/Dec 2004). [258] See Alain Lipietz, Mirages and Miracles: The Crisis of Global Fordism (London: Verso, 1987). [259] Caffentzis, ‘Immeasurable Value, an Essay on Marx’s Legacy’, and Caffentzis, ‘Crystals and Analytic Engines: Historical and Conceptual Preliminaries to a New Theory of Machines’. [260] Krippner, Capitalizing on Crisis: The Political Origins of the Rise of Finance (2011), 27. [261] Aglietta, ‘A Theory of Capitalist Regulation: The US Experience’ (2000). [262] Streeck, ‘Buying Time: The Delayed Crisis of Democratic Capitalism’ (2014). [263] Dumenil and Levy, ‘Neoliberal Income Trends’, New Left Review, 30 (Nov/Dec 2004). [264] Caffentzis, ‘Immeasurable Value, an Essay on Marx’s Legacy’. [265] Nolan (London: Polity Press, 2012), pp. 110-13. [266] Peter Rossman and Gerard Greenfield, ‘Financialization: New Routes to Profit, New Challenges for Trade Unions’, Labor Education, the quarterly review of the ILO Bureaufor Workers’ Activities, 1/2006 (No. 142) (2006). [267] Nolan, Is China Buying the World? (London: Polity Press, 2012), pp. 46-8. [268] Krippner, Capitalizing on Crisis: The Political Origins of the Rise ofFinance (2011). [269] Nolan, Is China Buying the World? (London, Polity Press, 2012).
In addressing the challenge of achieving global sustainability, we must apply the basic principles of business. This means running ‘Earth Incorporated’ with a depreciation, amortization and maintenance account.[270]This sentiment has become almost a truism in environmental governance. It is associated with a growing primacy of expertise in business, accounting and finance as core to the management of environmental health, coupled with the creation and calculation of new exchange values for units such as certified carbon emissions reductions, species banking credits and biodiversity offset scores. Underlying this transformation is a consolidated framing of the natural environment as a provider of ‘ecosystem services’ that should be paid for, and as a ‘bank of natural capital’ whose assets should be invested in and may be leveraged financially.[271] In combination, these innovations are underscoring new processes of enclosure of beyond-human natures as they become conceptualised and calculated as privatised and tradable units to which monetary forms of value can attach and accrue. I have understood this process to be a ‘finan- cialisation of nature’ in a manner akin to evocation of the ‘financialisation of the social’ effected through impact investing and other extensions of venture capital into social welfare.[272] Regardless of how much money may be made in the variously financialised creating of ‘Earth Incorporated’, its world-making significance is profound. It entails a creeping extension of accounting and financial discourse, expertise and valuation practices to the natural world, such that vast swathes of land and habitat, as well as the communities that dwell there, become (further) enmeshed in corporatised business in which ‘only production-for-market... [is] defined as a valuecreating activity’.[273] In this chapter I celebrate Silvia Federici’s Caliban and the Witch (2004) for the role it played for me some years ago in disentangling the dissonance of assertions that an extension of marketised forms of value will curtail the environmental degradations engendered by marketised forms of production, exchange and consumption. Specifically, I remember sitting in a cafe in Glastonbury - not far from localities claimed in local lore to be some of the last meeting places for English ‘witches’ of the Middle Ages - scribbling pages of notes as Federici’s clarification of primitive accumulation and of modernity’s new techno-statistical divisions of both nature and the body came into focus. Her electrifying integration of the insights of Marx and Foucault encouraged in me a resistant analytical response to the new enclosures becoming naturalised as Earth Incorporated seeks to accumulate from nature’s conservation, as much as from its productive transformation. In this chapter I outline the contribution of Caliban to my understandings of contemporary ‘primitive eco-accumulation’ and the calculations of nature that are thereby required, particularly in two pieces - ‘The environmentality of “Earth Incorporated”’ and ‘Banking nature?’ - on which I draw heavily here.[274] I close with some reflections on the positioning and potential of struggles in a moment of populist politics in which women’s bodies and the natural world are once again experiencing intensified capture, violation and erasure. *** Primitive Eco-Accumulation: Enclosing the World’s Body as ‘Earth Incorporated’ Primitive accumulation in Marx denotes the acts of possession necessary for the creation and capture of all subsequent capitalist relations of production and exchange.[275] For Marx, the two critical enclosures are of land as property and human activity as labour, the creation of which required an historical rift of each from the other to effect a disembedding of people from land-entwined social relations, as Karl Polanyi later put it.[276] Federici and other scholars highlight additional historical forms of primitive accumulations as integral to the capitalist strategy of bending nature in situ, as well as human life and bodies, to the commodity form. Michael Perelman, for example, understands the eradication of scores of annual religious ‘holydays’ throughout the Middle Ages as primitive accumulation.[277] The removal of these days from the annual calender further released an increasingly individualised and disciplined labour force for capital, both by increasing the number of work days annually and by eroding collective solidarities consolidated through the celebration of Saints’ Days. In Caliban Federici clarifies two further key enclosures in the service of capitalist primitive accumulation. First, women’s wombs and reproductive labour were accumulated as a free service through systematic destruction of women’s productive autonomy, linked with the terrorising ‘witch-hunts’ in Europe in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries in which some two- hundred thousand women[278] were murdered by emerging European states. Secondly, Federici traces an amplified self-disciplining of the body’s urges in its refashioning as ‘body-machine’ as enabling the primitive accumulation of commoditised labour to supply the homogenised and increasingly automated organisation of capitalist industrial production. All such accumulations of productive forces not a priori manufactured for sale require dramatic, albeit subsequently naturalised, conceptual transformations. The conversion of land into private property, which underscores the current wave of financialised ecology-commodity creation, thus requires the rejection of prior values, access or use rights so that land itself becomes capital that can be owned for most intents and purposes absolutely. Its abstracted monetary price, linked with associated resources and amenities, is then able to rise and fall in relation to other commodities, and its deterritorialised exchange is able to occur at a distance with money as symbolic medium and measure of ‘value’. In combination, it is the transformation of land and human activity from subject to object that permits their reification as marketable commodities.[279] This is a process that disregards and makes strange the myriad other practices of relationship, value and ethical requirements enacted by people in relation to natures-beyond-the- human.[280] Marx states additionally that ‘[a]s soon as capitalist production is on its own legs, it not only maintains this separation [of labour from the means of capitalist production], but reproduces it on a continually extending scale’?[281] As Federici maintains, ‘primitive accumulation has been a universal process in every phase of capitalist development’, re-launching ‘similar strategies in the face of every major capitalist crisis’?[282] Massimo De Angelis thus refers to primitive accumulation as the ontological, as opposed to historical, condition of capitalist production.[283] Many other authors have stressed this ongoing nature of primitive accumulation, from Rosa Luxemburg writing in 1913, to David Harvey writing in 2010. As such, recent analyses frame the process as ‘continuous’,[284] ‘permanent’[285] and ‘contemporary’.[286] The current proliferation of new nature values and tradable commodities for environmental conservation can be understood as a similarly productive wave of primitive accumulation. They are structuring ostensibly untransformed and variously restored nonhuman natures into reified and potentially exchangeable commodity forms in previously unthought ways.[287] at the same time as creating additional ways of bringing diverse peoples into the global market as producers-consumers of these new commodity forms. Primitive ‘eco-accumulation’ in this reading is the engine driving a series of expansionary and overlapping intensifications in the commodification of life itself, so as to more fully saturate and subsume ‘the eco- socius’[288] - despite the resistances afforded by affected communities and the immanent diversity and liveliness of beyond-human materialities. In creating Earth Incorporated the ‘reproductive capacities’ of the body of the earth are becoming conceived, measured and alienated in terms of productive labour or service-work. Unlike the unpaid reproductive labour of women, however, in Earth Incorporated nature’s ‘labour’ should be paid for: through ‘payments for ecosystem services’ and associated initiatives instituted at varying scales of exchange. There is an additional parallel here with Federici’s exploration of the medieval commutation to money payments of rent for land,[289] in that ‘payments for ecosystem services’ discourse and practice similarly effects a commutation to money payments of the generative capacities of beyond-human nature. As in the former commutation, any payments arising from the latter commutation also go to those able to assert ownership over the services that are thus produced. Indeed, the stated intention in ‘payments for ecosystem services’ discourse and policy is to enhance resource rents on owned land, such that these rents will out-compete alternative land uses. Through delineating ecosystem service units and creating possibilities for enhancing tradable value - for example, by bundling[290] and stacking ‘multiple, spatially overlapping credits representing different ecosystem services’ such that these units can be ‘sold separately to compensate for different impacts’[291] - new sources of income are thereby able to accrue to alienated land. Simultaneously, new motivations are created for the alienation of land as well as of any new exchange values abstracted for so-called ‘ecosystem services’ and ‘natural capital assets’. A ‘growing multibillion-dollar international market in carbon, habitat, and water-quality credits’[292] is thus set within multiple assertions that so-called ‘natural capital’ ‘represents an undeveloped, but emerging private sector investment opportunity of major proportion.[293] This new metaphorical framing and fabrication of nature-as-capital is in fact a brilliant subversion of the biological metaphors through which eighteenth and nineteenth century economists understood capital, and particularly its interest-generating capacity. In Capital Marx observed the tendency to see ‘... a property of money to generate value and yield interest, much as it is an attribute of pear trees to bear pears’; such that ‘[a]s the growing process is to trees, so generating money appears as innate in capital in its form as money-capital’.[294] The metaphor of ‘natural capital’ turns this conception on its head to state instead that the generative capacities of ‘nature’ are akin to those of the interest-bearing capacities of capital. In doing so, conceptions and materialities of ‘the natural world’ are wrapped further into the logic and values of capitalist market economy, in paradoxical disregard to the manner in which marketised exchange thrives on the dissociative impetus underscoring the degradations that ‘natural capital thinking’ is apparently intended to redress. Indeed, fantastical notions of ‘decoupling’ economic activity from ecological materialities and generating ‘no net loss’ of biological diversity, even though losses to populations and habitats have taken place, extend this splitting impetus into arguably pathological conceptualisations of possibility.[295] Coupled with amplified ‘land grabbing’ in the global south in recent years, in part as a response to financial crisis, the acquisition of land for the commoditised ‘green’ economic values it might produce has been variously termed ‘green grabbing’, ‘accumulation-by-conservation’ and ‘accumulation-by-restoration’.[296] Market-based conservation technologies are celebrated by some as a means of amplifying possibilities for local peoples to assert claims to new sources of income.[297] They have also been linked, however, with evictions from land,[298] the disempowering of local decision-making structures'[299] and heightened counter-insurgency tactics,[300] alongside amplified reach and wealth extraction by private sector investors. As such, contemporary primitive eco-accumulation can be understood to offer new impetus for old processes whereby capital creates and appropriates new commodity fictions from which surpluses can accumulate.[301] As Federici writes for the creation of the mastered labouring body that was central to the success of earlier accumulation regimes, this extension of the techno-calculative grid of economic value-making into previously uncalculated domains fabricates the natural world as a ‘work machine’ to make possible new forms of ‘green enclosure’. It is to this dimension of the making of ‘Earth Incorporated’ that I now turn. *** Calculating ‘Earth Incorporated’ Primitive eco-accumulation has involved innovations in the ways that nature is calculated, effecting techno-statistical divisions of ‘the world’s body’ so as to bind nature to capital in previously unforeseen ways.[302] In foregrounding the calculative practices fabricating and mastering the body as a work-machine whose labour can be sold as an alienated commodity, Federici’s Caliban again offers insights into the conceptualisations, practices and mechanisms by which this calculative and governing impetus is taking hold in environmental management. Here she shifts from Marx to Foucault (amongst other authors) in examining the ‘philosophical debates’ and ‘strategic interventions’ transforming ‘the individual’s powers into labor-power’.[303] Her insights and analysis are potent for considering the similar processes in application in the conceptualisation and transformation of nature’s diverse powers into labour-power that can be paid for. As Federici summarises, in Discipline and Punish Foucault analysed how new regimes of governance are structured and bolstered by new social sciences, which recursively and productively reinforced new disciplining techniques of management and administration. Foucault made much of the accompanying presence of a novel spirit that partitions, makes distinctions, classifies, codifies and calculates as central to the rise of the bourgeois class and the Age of Reason in Europe.[304] Foucault was talking about the body, and about the emergence of new social sciences that helped to construct, master and accumulate the body as a utility-maximising ‘body-machine’, as well as to rationalise and administer bodies as populations. Federici extends this structural analysis to affirm that ‘[t]he product of this alienation from the body ... was the development of individual identity, conceived precisely as ‘otherness’ from the body, and in perennial antagonism with it’[305] - a point to which I will return below. The contemporary era of primitive eco-accumulation accompanying neoliberal environmental governance is infused with a similarly intensified extension of subjectification practices to alienated socio-ecological domains. Just as the new sciences of demography, nutrition, etc. made possible the administrations of the modern era through the application of accounting to social relations,[306] ecosystem service science today is effecting the application of accounting to socio-environmental relations as ‘natural capital accounting’, also in service to particular administrative regimes.[307] In further transforming and accumulating ‘Nature’s’ exceeding immanence into ‘work powers’, the animated, embodied and sentient world that may be experienced by non-capitalist rationalities is of necessity erased. Nature’s operations are made ‘intelligible and controllable’, ‘void of any intrinsic teleology’[308] or agency.[309] As such, human nature is rendered deaf but in apparent authority over a mirroring mute and intractably distinct beyond-human nature. This reading of Earth Incorporated views beyond-human natures as being disciplined and mastered through a conceptual transformation that seeks to catch them ‘in a [new] system of subjection’, whereby diversely productive characteristics can be further ‘calculated, organized, technically thought’ and ‘invested with power relations’.[310] Like the human body, and the body-politic of populations, conserved nature as service-provider and store of capital is being entered into ‘a machinery of power that explores it, breaks it down and rearranges it’ to productively bend and release its immanent forces towards economic utility.[311] 'Through ‘ecoinformatics’ and natural capital accounting, ecological and economics data are connected and entrained so as to create ‘value’ at various ecosystem scales, in a process that mirrors the ‘accumulation by molecularisation’[312] made possible through capital investment in bioinformatics at the scale of molecular biology. These infiltrations of capital at both large and small scales of nature are ‘amplifying power’s effects within a wider economic field of calculation’[313] by consolidating claims to unforeseen domains and inventions of life.[314] The micro-physics of power operating in the capillaries and institutional apparatuses of ecosystem service science thus strategically reshapes socio-environment relations such that they are those of ‘Earth Incorporated’. The reign of money’s sign over all aspects of the natural world has come to occupy centre stage in ongoing proliferations of financialised eco-control. In later work, Foucault elaborated this intensification as biopolitical governmentality effected by the ‘truth regime’ of the market under neoliberalism, requiring work to create the governing incentivising and regulatory structures permitting the ‘free market’s’ need for ‘frugal govern- ment’.[315] As Martin O’Connor has also noted,
The logic of the marketplace states plainly that all capitals will realize their ‘full value’ only by insertion within the sphere of exchange value. Under the doctrine of utility maximisation, their best use will be signaled by price: they should always go to the highest bidder.[316]Muradian et al. describe how this naturalisation of capitalist ‘free markets’ in environmental domains is also rationalised by a Coasean institutional economics that assumes the emergence of social and environmental optima through the incentivised bargaining of those with private property allo- cations.[317] These contexts conspire to produce a ‘governmentality’ that ironically requires significant government and public engagement to facilitate the construction and regulation of the incentive structures that discipline individual and corporate behaviour to conform with the logic of the ‘free market’. This, as Noel Castree notes, is ‘the paradoxical need for ‘free’ markets to be managed’.[318] In understanding neoliberalism to take hold as governmentality - i.e. to be both reinforced and hybridised through multiplicitous yet patterned acts and practices of governance, participation and resistance - it becomes possible to notice how similar practices are unfolding as the ‘truths’ of contemporary environmental governance. Extending this conceptualisation to environmental arenas thus engenders an ‘environmentality’[319] whereby all environmental phenomena are rendered intelligible and governable through insertion into financial(ised) logics. Current rationalisations and monetisations of nature in terms of the disaggregated, commodified and banked services ‘it’ provides, thus constitute a new mechanisation of nature management to satisfy discourses of efficiency in the realm of environmental conservation, whilst maintaining accumulation as ‘the engine which powers growth under the capitalist mode of production’?[320] As such, these proliferating economising rationalisations can be regarded as variously productive power effects, which permit the repositioning and territorialisation of vast regions of the world as sites for capitalised global ecosystem services conservation and supply.[321] By further secularising beyond-human nature and human-with-nature relationships they constitute a massive rendering mute[322] of the nature knowledges and value practices associated with non-capitalist ways of living. The displacement effects of this restructuring range from so-called ‘green land grabs’ for conservation[323] to the more subtle erasure of knowledges, values and commons that constitute an ‘outside’ to the logic of this financialising impetus,[324] mirroring the capture and denigration of women’s bodies, experiences and capacities noted above. In ‘Earth Incorporated’, ‘nature’s agency’ is further desacralised and discounted, continuing the processes documented in Caliban that discipline frequently feminised human and beyond-human bodies into master-slave or doctor-patient relationships. *** A Concluding Comment on Continuing Enclosures and Erasures Reading Caliban and the Witch over the years has engendered a range of experiences for me. I have felt relief at the clarity of thought and analysis connecting the appropriation of women’s bodies and reproductive labour with anti-feudal struggles, colonialism, slavery, and capitalised land appropriation in Europe, the ‘New World’ and the contemporary ‘global south’. I have been shocked to learn more of the obsessive vilification and violent taming of women during the witch-hunts of especially the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and the ways this control ushered in a new sexual differentiation of spaces and bodies that historically instituted women’s loss of social power.[325] And I have been inspired with recognition as the calcula- tive and capitalising impetus directed now towards ‘the world’s body’ came into focus through Federici’s insights into the centrality of the calculative practices for mastering the immanently productive body as controllable ‘work-machine’. As I re-read Caliban today, however, and given a global moment wherein the bodies of women and the natural world appear to be experiencing renewed capture, violation and erasure, I find myself with new questions concerning new/old enclosures and erasures, as well as possibilities for new/old struggles. Federici’s text positions the historical ‘transition’ to capitalism as the unfortunate outcome of the multiplicitous anti-feudal struggles she outlines for Europe and the colonial ‘New World’. Fueled by the appropriation and mining of resources from slaves to silver, the mercantile interests of the Middle Ages, in combination with the protection of their patrons in emerging modern European states, comprised the ultimately successful ‘counter-insurgency’ of the day. Today, neoliberal capitalism is the new political economic normal, despite the vibrant global movements of the 1990s and early 2000s contesting neoliberal values and policies.[326] Indeed, privatised capture of both public provision and public assets is being intensified in the current moment of populist ‘post-truth’ politics. What, then, are the implications now for a longer-lasting social impetus for change linked with contemporary contestations over the capitalisation of nature as Earth Incorporated and of human bodies as (re)productive labour? Recalling Federici’s critique[327] above of the antagonisms to the body wrought as individual identity becomes conceived as alienated from the body, the populisms of the contemporary moment appear to deepen such antagonisms to human and beyond-human bodies. A dissociative discourse of decoupling economy from ecology in the quest for green economic growth empowers a strand of ecomodernist thought directing techno-fixes to solve environmental degradation and climate change that are described as ‘delusional’ by some analysts.[328] A similarly dissociative discourse of ‘being born in the wrong body’ provides new impetus to an objectifying approach to the body focusing on making the body - as object - have the properties so desired.[329] A disassembling and reconstruction of bodies in service to identity choices, realities, and as a consciously directed attack on ‘the myth of the natural[330] thus guides trans-humanist,[331] gender reassignment and cosmetic surgery industries, and perhaps also some consumer choices regarding reproductive technologies. Taken together, these splitting impulses and the enclosures and foreclosures[332] they articulate may invite resistant anti-capitalist ‘re-embodiments’.[333] Caliban clarifies further that the separations and divisions effecting capitalist enclosure during the anti-feudal struggles took place during a time of ‘escalating misogyny’.[334] Ultimately the period claimed the lives of hundreds of thousands of women categorised as witches in Europe, resulting from ‘a true war against women clearly aimed at breaking the control they had exercised over their bodies and reproduction’.[335] More recently, Federici describes the contemporary moment as characterised by a similarly staggering increase in violence towards women globally. It includes a rise in misogynistic identification and sequestration of especially older women as witches in ‘witch-camps’, which Federici interprets as linked with neoliberal structural adjustment policies that destabilise community structures - including those around gender.[336] Federici writes further that,
...llie capitalist class is determined to turn the world upside down in order to consolidate its power, which was undermined in the ’60s and ’70s by anticolonial, feminist, and civil rights struggles, particularly the Black Power movement. . we are witnessing an escalation of violence against women, especially women of color, because ‘globalization’ is a process of political recolonization, intended to give capital uncontested control of the world’s natural wealth and all human labor, and this cannot be achieved without attacking women, who are directly responsible for the reproduction of their communities.[337]This currently escalating misogyny is entangled with an equally staggering increase in extractive industry and violence towards the earth that is ‘greenwashed’ precisely through the marketised environmental governance technologies that have formed the focus of this chapter.[338] These phenomena that have tended to attack feminised bodies[339] are occurring in a moment shaped additionally by new theoretical, political and pragmatic destabilisations of universal(ising) categories of ‘male’ and ‘female’, as well as ‘men’ and ‘women’.[340] From a capitalist-critical perspective, an understanding that capitalism is ‘deeply invested in the compulsory two-gendered system as it guarantees maximum efficiency and control in the production and reproduction of labor power and the harnessing of biopower’, means that ‘[r]efusal to cooperate with the two-gendered system [becomes] a radically resistant action played out variously by different bodies’.[341] In intersecting with patriarchal structures of power and accumulation, however, it is not exactly clear how ‘queered, resistant Bodies’[342] of contemporary modes of contestation can in and of themselves subvert rather than reproduce these structures, particularly given ‘repetition within commodity culture where ‘subversion’ carries market value’.[343] It is also unclear how any essentialising of a ‘two-gendered system’ as core to capitalism might intersect with, and/or delimit,[344] the makings of masculine and feminine in cultural contexts that have otherwise proved resistant to modern state and capitalist forms of organisation.[345] As Judith Butler writes, ‘feminism’ needs to continue ‘to be careful not to idealize certain expressions of gender that, in turn, produce new forms of hierarchy and exclusion’.[346] Remembering the subtitle of Caliban (‘Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation’), then, my suggestion here is that Federici’s materialist analysis of the historical accumulation of female bodies and reproductive labour - and of the particular sexualisations of bodies, spaces and identities associated with these processes - might offer fresh insights for theorising newly normative gender troubles of the contemporary moment.[347] In particular, Caliban and the Witch retains relevance for understanding the depth of historical context whereby the variously sexualised, racialised and objectified bodies of women, people of colour and beyond-human natures have been silenced and exploited in tandem as classes of pacified beings-becomings. Contemporary circumstances demonstrate that the struggle for the rights of these classes, as well as for recognition of their/our realities, remains critical, if increasingly complex, today. Federici helps us to see additionally that the creation of divisions that implode solidarities has long been a key strategy of capital and the sustained power of the ruling class.[348] Relational solidarities that reach beyond individualised identities clearly remain critical if struggles are to refract the alienations required for capital to further subsume psychological, social and ecological experience. *** Acknowledgements Thank you to David Harvie for the encouragement to contribute this chapter and to be able to express my gratitude to Silvia Federici for her inspiring, if necessarily unsettling, work. [270] See, for example, [[http://www.mauricestrong.net/index.php/speeches-remarks3/34-asia][www.mauricestrong.net/index.php/speeches-remarks3/34-asia]]; [[http://www.mauricestrong.net/index.php/speeches-remarks3/79-korea-econom-ic-policy][www.mauricestrong.net/index.php/speeches-remarks3/79-korea-econom- ic-policy]]; [[http://www.mauricestrong.net/index.php/speeches-remarks3/46-scenarios][www.mauricestrong.net/index.php/speeches-remarks3/46-scenarios]] (all last accessed 20 July 2018). [271] See Sian Sullivan, ‘Green capitalism, and the cultural poverty of constructing nature as service-provider’, Radical Anthropology 3, 2009, pp. 18-27; Credit Suisse and McKinsey Center for Business and Environment, Conservation Finance. From Niche to Mainstream: The Building of an Institutional Asset Class (2016); available at: [[http://www.credit-suisse.com/media/assets/corporate/docs/about-us/responsibility/][www.credit-suisse.com/media/assets/corporate/docs/about-us/responsibility/]] banking/conservation-finance-en.pdf (last accessed 21 May 2016) and, for a discussion, Sullivan, ‘Making nature investable: from legibility to leverageability in fabricating “nature” as “natural capital’’’, Science and Technology Studies 31(3), 2018, pp. 47-76 and Sullivan, ‘Bonding nature(s)? Funds, financiers and values at the impact investing edge in environmental conservation’, in Sarah Bracking, Aurora Fredriksen, Sian Sullivan and Philip Woodhouse (eds), Valuing Development, Environment and Conservation: Creating Values that Matter (London: Routledge, 2018). [272] E. Chiapello and G. Godefroy, ‘The dual function of judgment devices: why does the plurality of market classifications matter?’, Historical Social Research 42(1), 2017, p. 153; see also D. Harvie ‘(Big) society and (market) discipline: the financialisation of social reproduction’, Historical Materialism 27(1), 2019, pp. 92-124. [273] Federici, S., Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation (New York: Autonomedia, 2004), p. 74. [274] ‘The environmentality of “Earth Incorporated”: on contemporary primitive accumulation and the financialisation of environmental conservation’ (2010). Online [[https://wordpress.com/post/siansullivan.net/375][https://wordpress.com/post/siansullivan.net/375]] (last accessed 20 July 2018); ‘Banking nature? The spectacular financialisation of environmental conservation’, Antipode 45(1), 2013, pp. 198-217. [275] See especially chapter 16 of Capital’, Vol. 1. Federici (Caliban, p. 117) points out that for Marx ‘primitive accumulation’ was ‘so-called’ to signal his rejecting of the earlier ahistorical usage of the term by Adam Smith and the implication that accumulated inequalities ‘just happened’, as if in the absence of the ongoing and intentional class-based appropriations emphasised by Marx as essential to the concept. [276] The Great Transformation: the Political and Economic Origins of Our Time (Boston: Beacon Press, 2001 [1944]). [277] ‘The secret history of primitive accumulation and classical political economy’, The Commoner, 2 (September 2001), at [[http://www.commoner.org.uk/02perelman.pdf][www.commoner.org.uk/02perelman.pdf]]. [278] I understand ‘women’ in the subtitle of Caliban to refer to adult female human beings whose experience was caught in and patterned by the historical moment of the shift from feudalism to mercantile capitalism. In this reading, Federici’s analysis in Caliban is concerned with how the bodies and experiences of adult female human beings were targeted in particular - through the ‘primitive accumulation’ of women’s wombs and reproductive labour enabled by systematic erosion of women’s productive autonomy, linked with the ‘witch-hunts’ precipitated by this historical moment. This is not the same as saying that all women had (or have) the same experience or the same bodies; or that many others - as signalled by ‘Caliban’ in her title (and discussed further in this chapter) - did not experience similar violations. But it is to affirm that Federici’s analysis draws into focus how women as a class of human persons were subjected to particular patterns of subjection and accumulation, often accompanied by particular forms of violence. [279] See Massimo De Angelis, ‘Marx and primitive accumulation: the continuous character of capital’s “enclosures”’, The Commoner 2 (September 2001), p. 7, at www. commoner.org.uk/02deangelis.pdf. [280] Discussed further in Sullivan, ‘On “natural capital”, “fairy-tales” and ideology’, Development and Change 48(2), 2017, pp. 397-423. [281] Marx, Capital, vol. 1 (trans. S. Moore and E. Aveling) (London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1974 [1867]), p. 668. [282] Caliban, pp. 16-17, 104. [283] De Angelis, ‘Marx and primitive accumulation: the continuous character of capital’s “enclosures”’ (2001). [284] De Angelis, ‘Marx and primitive accumulation: the continuous character of capital’s “enclosures”’ (2001). [285] Werner Bonefeld, ‘The permanence of primitive accumulation: Commodity fetishism and social constitution’, The Commoner 2 (September 2001), at www. commoner.org.uk/02bonefeld.pdf; David Harvey, ‘The geography of capitalist accumulation: a reconstruction of the Marxian theory’, Antipode 7(2), 1975, pp. 9-21. [286] Jim Glassman, ‘Primitive accumulation, accumulation by dispossession, accumulation by “extra-economic” means’, Progress in Human Geography 30(5), 2006, pp. 608-25. [287] N. Kosoy and E. Corbera, ‘Payments for ecosystem services as commodity fetishism’, Ecological Economics 69(6), 2010, pp. 1228-36. [288] Cf. J.T. Nealon, Foucault Beyond Foucault: Power and its Intensifications since 1984 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2008). [289] Caliban, pp. 28-9. [290] S.A. Bekessy and B.A. Wintle, ‘Using carbon investment to grow the biodiversity bank’, Conservation and Policy 22(3), 2008, p. 510. [291] M. Robertson, T.K. BenDor, R. Lave, A. Riggsbee, J.B. Ruhl and M. Doyle, ‘Stacking ecosystem services’, Frontiers in Ecology and the Environment 12(3), 2014, pp. 186. [292] Ibid., p. 186. [293] Center for Business and Environment, Conservation Finance. From Niche to Mainstream: The Building of an Institutional Asset Class (2016), p. 3. [294] Marx, Capital, vol. 3 (trans. S. Moore and E. Aveling) (London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1974 [1894]), pp. 392-3). See also the discussion in Michael T. Taussig, The Devil and Commodity Fetishism in South America (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2010 [1980]), pp. 31-3. [295] This is discussed further in Sullivan, ‘What’s ontology got to do with it? On nature and knowledge in a political ecology of “the green economy”’, Journal of Political Ecology 24, 2017, pp. 217-42. [296] J. Fairhead, M. Leach and I. Scoones, ‘Green grabbing: A new appropriation of nature?’, Journal of Peasant Studies 39, 2012, pp. 237-61; B. Buscher and R. Fletcher, ‘Accumulation by conservation’, New Political Economy 20, 2015, pp. 273-98; A. Huff and A. Brock, ‘Accumulation by restoration: degradation neutrality and the Faustian bargain of conservation finance’, Antipode Intervention, online at [[https://antipode-foundation.org/2017/11/06/accumulation-by-restoration/][https://antipode- foundation.org/2017/11/06/accumulation-by-restoration/]] (accessed 10 July 2018). [297] See, for example, G. Van Hecken, V. Kolinjivadi, C. Windey, et al., ‘Silencing agency in Payments for Ecosystem Services (PES) by essentializing a neoliberal “monster” into being: a response to Fletcher & Buscher’s “PES Conceit”’, Ecological Economics 144, 2018, pp. 314-18. [298] C. Cavanagh and T.A. Benjaminsen, ‘Virtual nature, violent accumulation: the “spectacular failure” of carbon offsetting at a Ugandan National Park’, Geoforum 56, 2014, pp. 55-65. [299] S. Chomba, J. Kariuki, J.F. Lund and F. Sinclair, ‘Roots of inequity: how the implementation of REDD+ reinforces past injustices’, Land Use Policy 50, 2016, pp. 202-13. [300] A. Dunlap and J. Fairhead, ‘The militarisation and marketisation of nature: an alternative lens to “climate-conflict”’, Geopolitics 19, 2014, pp. 937-61; A. Brock and A. Dunlap, ‘Normalising corporate counterinsurgency: engineering consent, managing resistance and greening destruction around the Hambach coal mine and beyond’, Political Geography 62, pp. 33-47; J. Verweijen and E. Marijnen, ‘The counterinsurgency/conservation nexus: guerrilla livelihoods and the dynamics of conflict and violence in the Virunga National Park, Democratic Republic of the Congo’, The Journal ofPeasant Studies 45, 2018, pp. 300-20. [301] Rosa Luxemburg, The Accumulation of Capital (London: Routledge, 2003 [1913]). [302] For detail, see for example, L. Lohmann, ‘Toward a different debate in environmental accounting: the cases of carbon and cost-benefit’ Accounting, Organizations and Society 34, 2009, pp. 499-534; M. Fourcade, ‘Cents and sensibility: economic valuation and the nature of “nature”’, American Journal of Sociology 116(6), 2011, pp. 1721-77; V. Ehrenstein and F. Muniesa, ‘The conditional sink: counterfactual display in the valuation of a carbon offsetting restoration project’, Valuation Studies 1(2), 2013, pp. 161-88; I. Lippert, ‘Environment as datascape: enacting emission realities in corporate carbon accounting’, Geoforum 66, 2014, pp. 126-35; A.P. Asi- yanbi, ‘Financialisation in the Green Economy: Material Connections, Markets-in-the-making and Foucauldian Organising Actions’, Environment and Planning A, 5(3), 2018, pp. 531-48; L. Carver and S. Sullivan, ‘How economic contexts shape calculations of yield in biodiversity offsetting’, Conservation Biology 31(5), 2017, pp. 1053-65. [303] Caliban, p. 33. [304] Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (trans. A. Sheridan; London: Penguin, 1991 [1975]), pp. 137-8. [305] Caliban, p. 151, emphasis in original. [306] Caliban, pp. 84-5. [307] For an analysis of natural capital accounting in the UK, see S. Sullivan and M. Hannis, ‘“Mathematics maybe, but not money”: on balance sheets, numbers and nature in ecological accounting’, Accounting, Auditing and Accountability Journal 30(7), 2017, pp. 1459-80. [308] Caliban, p. 139. [309] V. Plumwood, ‘The concept of a cultural landscape: nature, culture and agency in the land’, Ethics and the Environment 11 (2006), pp. 115-50. [310] Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth ofthe Prison (trans. A. Sheridan; London: Penguin, 1991 [1975]), pp. 24-6. [311] Ibid., pp. 138, 170. [312] D. Nally, ‘The biopolitics of food provisioning’, Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 36, 2011, pp. 37-53. [313] J.T. Nealon, Foucault Beyond Foucault: Power and its Intensifications since 1984 (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2008), p. 27. [314] S. Prudham, ‘The fictions of autonomous intervention: Accumulation by dispossesssion, commodification and life patents in Canada’, Antipode 39(3), 2007, pp. 406-29. [315] M. Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics: Lectures at the College de France 1978-1979 (trans. G. Burchell; Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008 [1979]). [316] M. O’Connor, ‘On the misadventures of capitalist nature’, in O’Connor (ed.) Is Capitalism Sustainable? Political Economy and the Politics ofEcology (London: Guilford Press, 1994), p. 141. [317] R. Muradian, E. Corbera, U. Pascual, N. Kosoy and P.H. May, ‘Reconciling theory and practice: an alternative conceptual framework for understanding payments for environmental services’, Ecological Economics 69 (2010), pp. 1202-8. [318] N. Castree, ‘Neoliberalising nature: the logics of deregulation and reregulation’, Environment and Planning A 40, 2008, p. 144. [319] T.W. Luke, ‘On environmentality: Geo-power and eco-knowledge in the discourse of contemporary environmentalism’, Cultural Critique 31(II), 1995, pp. 57-81; R. Fletcher, ‘Neoliberal environmentality: towards a poststructural political ecology of the conservation debate’, Conservation and Society 8(3), 2010, pp. 171-81. [320] Harvey, ‘The geography of capitalist accumulation’, 9. [321] S. Sassen, ‘A savage sorting of winners and losers: contemporary versions of primitive accumulation’, Globalizations 7(1), 2010, p. 30. [322] P. Curry, ‘Nature post-nature’, New Formations 64, 2008, pp. 51-64. [323] J. Fairhead, M. Leach and I. Scoones, ‘Green grabbing: A new appropriation of nature?’, Journal ofPeasant Studies 39 (2012). [324] F. Berkes, Sacred Ecology (London: Routledge, 1999); Sullivan, ‘On “natural capital”, “fairy-tales” and ideology’. [325] Caliban, pp. 100-1. [326] See, for instance, Notes From Nowhere (eds) We Are Everywhere: The Irresistible Rise of Global Anticapitalism (London: Verso, 2003); B. Maiguascha and C. Eschle (eds), Critical Theories, World Politics and ‘the Anti-globalisation Movement’ (London: Routledge, 2005); S. Bohm, O. Reyes and S. Sullivan, ‘The organisation and politics of Social Forums’, ephemera: Theory and Politics in Organization 5(2), 2005, pp. 98-442; D. Harvie, K. Milburn, B. Trott and D. Watts (eds), Shut Them Down!: The G8, Gleneagles 2005 and the Movement of Movements (Leeds: Dissent! and Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 2005); T. Mueller and S. Sullivan, ‘Making other worlds possible? Riots, movement and counterglobalisation’, in M. Davies (ed.) Disturbing the Peace: Collective Action in Britain & France, 1381 to the Present (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2016) pp. 239-55. [327] Caliban, p. 151. [328] United Nations Environment Programme Working Group on Decoupling, Decoupling natural resource use and environmental impacts from economic growth (2011), at [[http://www.gci.org.uk/Documents/Decoupling_Report_English.pdf][www.gci.org.uk/Documents/Decoupling_Report_English.pdf]]; J. Ward, K. Chiveralls, L. Fioramonti, P. Sutton and R. Costanza, ‘The decoupling delusion: rethinking growth and sustainability’, The Conversation 12 March 2017, at [[https://theconversation.com/the-decoupling-delusion-rethink-ing-growth-and-sustainability-71996][https://theconversation.com/the-decoupling-delusion-rethink- ing-growth-and-sustainability-71996]]; both accessed 27 September 2018. [329] K. Stock, ‘Sexual objectification’, Analysis 75(2), 2015, pp. 191-5. [330] J. Rose, ‘Who do you think you are?’, London Review of Books 38(9), May 2016, pp. 3-13. [331] I am evoking here the ‘corporeal embrace of new technologies’ (D. Trippett, ‘Transhumanism: advances in technology could already put evolution into hyperdrive - but should they?’, The Conversation 28 March 2018 [[https://theconversation.com/][https://theconversation.com/]] transhumanism-advances-in-technology-could-already-put-evolution-into-hy- perdrive-but-should-they-92694, last accessed 24 January 2019) signalled by an optimistic orientation towards prosthetic futures in which the human body is radically altered and engineered through the application and incorporation of sophisticated technology [S. Lilley, Transhumanism and Society: The Social Debate over Human Enhancement (New York: Springer, 2013)]. [332] Cf. J. Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (London: Routledge, 2006 [1990]), p. 21. [333] R. Pellicer-Thomas, V. de Lucia and S. Sullivan (eds), Contributions to Law, Philosophy and Ecology: Exploring Re-Embodiments (London: Routledge, 2016). [334] Caliban, p. 73. [335] Caliban, 88, also p. 164. [336] Federici, ‘Women, Witch-Hunting and Enclosures in Africa Today’, Sozial Geschichte. Online 3, S: 10-27, at [[https://duepublico.uni-duisburg-essen.de/serv-lets/DerivateServlet/Derivate-24612/03_Federici_Women.pdf][https://duepublico.uni-duisburg-essen.de/serv- lets/DerivateServlet/Derivate-24612/03_Federici_Women.pdf]], (last accesssed 6 December 2018); also I. Epure, ‘The women of Ghana’s witch-camps’, Broadly Vice, 1 February 2016, at [[https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/article/3dxg4v/the-women-of-ghanas-witch-camps][https://broadly.vice.com/en_us/article/3dxg4v/the-women-of- ghanas-witch-camps]], (last accessed 12 December 2018). [337] Federici, ‘Undeclared war: violence against women’, Artforum (Summer 2017), at [[http://www.artforum.com/print/201706/undeclared-war-violence-against-women-68680][www.artforum.com/print/201706/undeclared-war-violence-against-women-68680]] (accessed 10 July 2018); emphasis added. [338] In addition to sources already cited, see S. Sullivan, ‘After the green rush? Biodiversity offsets, uranium power and the “calculus of casualties” in greening growth’, Human Geography 6(1), 2013, pp. 80-101; M. Hannis and S. Sullivan, ‘Mining the desert’, The Land 22, 2018, pp. 46-9. [339] C. Merchant, The Death of Nature: Women, Ecology and the Scientific Revolution (San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1980); V. Plumwood, Feminism and the Mastery of Nature (London: Routledge, 1993). [340] Cf. J. Butler, Gender Trouble; Rose, ‘Who do you think you are?’, London Review of Books 38(9) (May 2016); S. Hines, Is Gender Fluid? A Primer for the 21[st] Century (London: Thames and Hudson, 2018). [341] subRosa, ‘Useless gender: An immodest proposal for radical justice’, in J.P.-M. Tsang and subRosa (eds), Yes Species (Chicago: Sabrosa Books, 2005), p. 57. [342] Ibid., also see S. Sullivan, ‘(Re)embodying which body? Philosophical, cross- cultural and personal reflections on corporeality’, in R. Pellicer-Thomas, V. de Lucia and S. Sullivan (eds), Law, Philosophy and Ecology: Exploring Re-Embodiments (London: Routledge, 2016), pp. 119-38. [343] Cf. J. Butler, Gender Trouble, p. xxiii. [344] Ibid., pp. 18-9. [345] P. Clastres, Society Against the State: Essays in Political Anthropology (New York: Zone Books, 1990 [1974]); C. MacCormack and M. Strathern, Nature, Culture and Gender (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980); C. Knight, Blood Relations: Menstruation and the Origins of Culture (London: Yale University Press, 1991); Taussig, The Devil and Commodity Fetishism in South America (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2010 [1980]). [346] Cf. J. Butler, Gender Trouble, p. ii. [347] Hines, Is Gender Fluid? A Primer for the 21[st] Century (London: Thames and Hudson, 2018). [348] Caliban, p. 106.
Four of us were in a car on our way to a radical student conference, it was the very late 1990s and the WTO protests in Seattle had just hit the national papers. We had driven straight through from Brisbane to Sydney, nine hours with your foot flat to the floor. We arrived sweaty and tired and sort of tumbled out of the car and into the front garden of a huge run-down student house in inner Sydney. A woman I had not met before, Natasha, was at the front door. Noting my then boyfriend, she spat, ‘So, you’re a breeder then’. Standing there in the harsh morning sunshine, the word breeder did the job it was intended to do: producing a connection between my 19-year-old body, its assumed capacity for biological reproduction, patriarchy and normative heterosexual sex. A little taken aback, I mumbled something in response while looking at my feet and spent the rest of the week thinking about what breeder sex would be like. The word breeder stung in part because my 19-year-old self didn’t dream of having children. By the time I reached the age of 19 I had discovered feminism and it enabled me to imagine being a woman that did not include breeding. I swapped babies for a wage of one’s own. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to have children; it was more that I wanted be set free from the potential - that very gendered assumption that one day I would, of course, want to have kids. I even went to see a doctor about getting sterilised. He suggested I see a shrink. I laughed in his face and carried on working hard and earning nothing. Though, it turns out that Natasha was right, I was a breeder. Around a year and half after my first child was born, I had what can only be described as a crisis of motherhood. I was not suffering from post-natal depression nor was I exclusively at home with the baby. I was one of the so-called ‘lucky’ mothers whose partner did more than just ‘help’; he washed, cared, cleaned, cooked and worried with me about high temperatures or strange looking vomit. My problem wasn’t the baby, or breastfeeding, or not getting enough sleep. All those things were certainly hard. But, as I lay sobbing, panic ripping through my body, it was motherhood, my newly acquired identity that came spilling out as the problem. It wasn’t that I couldn’t find a version of motherhood to fit my lifestyle or a bundle of commodities to consume to affirm my status. It was more profound than that, it was an unnerving realisation of having birthed capital: all that blood and dirt. And that the work of wiping the snotty noses, cleaning up the shit and teaching them to be on time, it all still pretty much fell to women and yet more women, no matter how you rolled the dice. Added to that enormity was the fact that, while my nice radical reconfiguration of family was a much-needed little refuge within the horror show, it was not a way out.*** Breeding In Caliban and the Witch, Silvia Federici explores the historical processes that reconfigured the female body ‘into an instrument for the reproduction of labour and the expansion of the work-force, treated as a natural breeding-machine, functioning according to rhythms outside of women’s control’.[386] This reconfiguration of some women into ‘breeders’ is a story that, as Hortense Spillers reminds us, cannot be deciphered without tripping over other female narratives.[387] It is a history that asks us to consider how the reproduction of labour-power is valued, what it costs and who pays the bill. The encounter that opens this chapter begins with the profoundly racist and sexist concept of breeding as a uncomfortable departure point in which to unravel some of the contradictions and tensions that exist between slavery, women’s bodies, motherhood and reproduction. Through an investigation of how the concept of breeding was constructed in relation to slave women, I am interested in the political economy of reproduction under slavery and the construction and organisation of gender, race and class relations inside and outside of waged labour. My focus in this chapter is on some of the ways that motherhood and biological reproduction were reorganised, revalued and contested through the reorganisation of reproduction that accompanied the emergence of capitalist production. The history of capitalism is, of course, a history of slavery and of colonialism. Shifting from the colonial to the post-colonial context, it is a history that has continued, and has been shaped fundamentally by migration from Britain’s former colonies to the ‘motherland’ during reconstruction in the post-war era and one that continues today with global migration from the global south to the north. There are vast inequalities and disparities in how different racialised and gendered subjects experience the labour of making and remaking people under capitalism. The gaps and silences, as well as and the spaces of difference, have long and complex histories. One heavily contested site that emerges is that of the slave household, a site not only of exploitation and oppression but also of resistance for slave communities and slave women in particular. The complexities of the domestic lives and family structures under slavery challenge tendencies within feminist theory that assume a universal or ‘shared’ experience of home, motherhood and the domestic sphere. If the home is not essentially repressive, the question becomes how some homes can be sites of significant resistance while others are sites of domination. This opens up a pragmatic and operative conceptualisation of home as site of domination/resistance. Furthermore, where social structures block the establishment of patriarchal masculinity, there is the potential for the home to mean something else. In the analysis that follows, the concept of ‘breeding’ refers in the first instance to the specific period in the history of the transatlantic slave trade in the eighteenth century in which slave labour ‘was plentiful, [and] it was considered more profitable to work slaves to death than to provide the basic human requirements which would have prolonged [their] working lives’.[388] I am interested in interrogating how it was more profitable for slave owners to buy humans than it was to allow or force their existing slaves ‘to breed’. This moment of economic calculation, one that is grotesque in its measurement, is revealing in so far as it makes visible the actual costs associated with reproduction - costs that are often obscured, taken for granted and occur in the background of economic considerations. Connected to the enslavement and exploitation of African slaves in the colonies is the history of how the making and remaking of labour-power in Britain was reconfigured to be a white woman’s ‘natural’ and ‘proper’ destiny. Through this move, women’s labour was stripped of value, narrowed in meaning and confined to the domestic sphere. Framing this in another way, the construction and function of motherhood and women’s naturalised domestic role in Britain relied on and was made possible only through the exclusion and disciplining of certain bodies, specifically those of women of colour, working mothers and slave women on the plantations. An investigation into the political economy of reproduction makes it clear that it is crucial for feminists to pay close attention to the constructions and experiences of race and class alongside that of gender. In doing so, such a politics demands that we abandon the claim to a universalised motherhood and the domestic sphere as an always-already degraded terrain of oppression and domination. The desires of some women, overwhelmingly white middle-class educated women, to escape the home and strive for change in the world of employment has certainly dominated the story of reproduction in the last forty years. However, this desire of escape from domesticity and for a certain notion of freedom has obscured other narratives of the domestic sphere and motherhood, as well as concealing on both a local and global scale the layers of dependency that are involved in the making and remaking of people and workers under capitalism. *** Dependencies When we articulate reproduction as a political problematic connected to the histories of the Transatlantic Slave Trade, colonialism and the development of industrial capitalism in Europe, particularly Britain, it becomes possible to grasp how certain activities and bodies became sexually and racially differentiated. Reproductive activities have been not only differentiated but also devalued and, in many instances, made invisible through an evocation of the ‘natural’. This long historical process involved violent separations that we need to contextualise alongside the enclosure of commons and other mechanisms of capital accumulation that connect the emergence of industrial capitalism in Britain with the colonial project and enslavement of African workers. The vast concentrations of wealth, resources and capital that flowed into Europe, especially Britain, from the seventeenth to the nineteenth century have led many scholars to conclude that the plantation production system and the trade in African slaves played a fundamental role in the emergence of capitalism. Extending this argument, in Black Marxism Cedric Robinson presents the histories of race and racialism as existing prior to the emergence of capitalism and demonstrates the necessarily racist character of capitalism as an expression of European civilisation. He cautions against a narration of the history of capitalism that defines slavery and slave labour as processes of primitive accumulation relegated to an historical stage somewhere between feudalism and capitalism. He argues that ‘slave labor, the slave trade and their associated phenomena ... profoundly altered the economies of those states directly or indirectly involved in colonization and production by slave labor’.[389] To stress the point, Robinson describes the ‘associated phenomena’ of slavery as including ‘markets for cheap commodities; ship building and outfitting; mercantile and military navies; cartography; forestry; banking; insurance; technological improvements in communication, industrial production’.[390] The extreme violence and brutality of the slave trade is often washed away in the official tales of capitalism’s birth, and the scale and depth of connection between the geographies of the British Empire rarely gets acknowledged. Plainly put, to do so would give voice to uncomfortable questions as to how some people came to possess the wealth they do and why others remain dispossessed and trapped in so-called cycles of ‘poverty’ and ‘underdevelopment’. In 1944, Eric Williams outlined the specific role England played in the ‘triangular trade’ between Europe, Africa and the ‘New World’: ‘by 1750 there was hardly a trading or a manufacturing town in England which was not in some way connected with the triangular or direct colonial trade. The profits obtained provided one of the main streams of that accumulation of capital in England which financed the Industrial Revolution’.[391] The centrality of slavery to the emergence of capitalism was one that transformed not only the landscape of the colonies, but also Britain. The immense accumulation of labour and capital that was made possible through the enslavement, forced labour and death of millions of African workers on the slave ships, plantations and colonies produced many of the economic and social conditions that enabled the separation of production from reproduction in the transition from feudalism to capitalism in Britain. In this instance, to speak of the separation of production from reproduction is to articulate the processes that ensured workers’ dependence on the wage and their inability to reproduce themselves independently of capitalism. As Silvia reminds us, the significant reduction in the cost of reproducing labour-power (i.e. reproducing workers) in Britain that was made possible through the production of cheap commodities using slave labour in the colonies, prefigures capitalism’s contemporary use of ‘cheap’ migrant labour and the production of consumer commodities in the so-called Third World.[392] The production of commodities such as sugar, rum, tea, tobacco and cotton - the most important commodities (apart from bread) in the making and remaking of workers in Europe - did not reach large-scale production in the colonies until slavery had been institutionalised after the 1650s. Maria Mies makes the point that before production was transformed with African slave labour, the privileged European elite who could afford them consumed the ‘luxury’ items stolen, looted or traded from the colonies.[393] However, once production in the colonies was expanded through the use of slave labour, one direct consequence was a reduction in the costs of the commodity basket necessary to reproduce labour-power during the emergence of industrial capitalism in Britain. In other words, one of the connections established through the slave trade was between the profitability of production in the colonies and the reduction in costs associated with keeping workers alive and fed in the industrial metropolis. As Silvia argues, the expansion of colonial commodity production and the use of slave labour restructured the reproduction of industrial workers and, conversely, the costs associated with reproducing labour-power on an international scale and ‘the metropolitan wage became the vehicle by which the goods produced by enslaved workers went to market, and the value of the products of enslaved-labor were realized’.[394] The emergence of industrial capitalism in Britain was an uneven, contested and violent series of interlocking processes and events. The accumulation of labour and capital that slavery made possible assisted in forging the ‘free’ labourers of Britain - workers who were and often remain free to starve without the wage. The ‘freedom’ of capital’s industrial workers was, following Marx’s analysis, a double freedom. It was a freedom that enabled not only specific class relations, but also specific gender relations, that while being uneven and continually contested, separated men and women in Britain into distinct spheres of work and influence: on the one hand, that of (male) waged productive work in the factory/public sphere; on the other, (female) unwaged reproductive work in the home/ domestic realm. *** Separations The centrality of slavery to the development of capitalism in Britain does not exist only within the realm of the economic. In addition to the immense monetary wealth that slavery produced for Britain’s ruling class, we must also add the techniques of disciplining, policing and controlling workers that were exported from the colonies back to England and into the factory system. In additional to Robinson’s list of ‘associated phenomena’ it is necessary to add that slavery was central to the construction of capitalist gender relations and to the separation and sorting of men and women into two distinct spheres of influence and work. Part of this process involved imagining some (white) women as ‘good’ mothers: bell hooks makes the point that ‘the shift away from the image of white women as sinful and sexual to that of white women as virtuous lady occurred at the same time as mass sexual exploitation of enslaved black women.[395] The Transatlantic Slave Trade and slave economy was one in which slaves were defined as chattel and this definition of people as ‘profitable labour-units’ or as property to be bought and sold applied to women as much as it did to men. Angela Davis argues that slaves ‘might as well have been genderless as far as the slaveholders were concerned’.[396] On the defem- inisation of women slaves, the fugitive slave Williamson Pease recounted that, ‘women who do outdoor work are used as bad as men?[397] Hortense Spillers makes the point that ‘under these conditions, we lose at least gender difference in the outcome, and the female body and male body become a territory of cultural and political manoeuvre, not at all gender- related, gender specific’?[398] This loss of gender difference is evident in the conditions of labour of fieldworkers that (the majority of) slaves experienced: girls and women were, ...assigned to work the soil, pick the cotton, cut the cane, harvest the tobacco . [and] . that judged by the evolving nineteenth-century ideology of femininity, which emphasized women’s roles as nurturing mothers and gentle companions and housekeepers for their husbands, Black women were practically anomalies.[399] Despite the ‘equality’ of exploitation that slave women experienced (vis-a-vis male slaves) in the conditions of their work, they also suffered in different and gendered ways in so far as they were victims of sexual abuse, rape and other violence that is preserved for and inflicted upon the bodies of women. Furthermore, by analysing the labour conditions of (female) slaves involved in production and the differentiated ways that (white) women in Britain came to be seen as inhabitants of a sphere that was separated from the realm of productive work and synonymous with ‘mother’ and ‘housewife’, it is important to note that ‘among Black slaves, this vocabulary [of ‘mother’, ‘housewife’] was nowhere to be found’.[400] Davis argues that the gendered role assigned to female slaves was one in which they were conceived of ‘as “breeders” - animals, whose monetary value could be precisely calculated in terms of their ability to multiply their numbers . [and] since slave women were classified as “breeders” as opposed to “mothers”, their infant children could be sold’.[401] In sharp contrast to the emergent gender ideology that attempted to naturalise, feminise and, crucially, privatise the processes of reproduction of ‘industrial’ workers in Britain, the explicit understanding of the costs and work of reproducing the slave population is revealed by the calculations that the slave traders and planters undertook. In many instances, the cost of reproduction was so considerable that during the operation of the international slave trade it was ‘cheaper’ to purchase a new slave than to ‘breed’ one on the plantation. In The Sociology of Slavery, Orlando Patterson draws attention to a report in which ‘Henry Coor, a Jamaican millwright, estimated in the West Indian Reporter (March 1831) that the cost of rearing a slave to the age of 14 was £112 in Jamaica, £165 in Trinidad, £109 in Barbados, and £122 in Antigua’.[402] At this time the comparative market price of a field slave was £45 in Cuba.[403] In reference to the metrics that informed the plantation owners’ calculations, Hall outlines that ‘during and after pregnancy, the slave is useless for several months, and her nourishment should be more abundant and better chosen. This loss of work and added expense comes out of the master’s pocket. It is he who pays for the often ineffective and always lengthy care of the newborn’.[404] The considerable differences in how reproduction was constructed and valued are stark. In the colonies with regard to slaves there was visible and measurable monetary value associated with the activities of reproduction; in industrial Britain these processes were becoming more and more obscured, naturalised and devalued. The emergence of the ‘domestic ideology’ in eighteenth and nineteenth century Britain was an uneven process, constantly being broken apart at the same time as it was being constructed. Nevertheless, and despite this contestation, transformations occurred and, over time, women and men began to be conceived as existing in separate spheres - and their work gendered and valued or devalued accordingly.[405] Drawing together the twin processes of the emergence of the trade in slaves and the subjugation of women, Silvia argues that ‘starting in the mid-16th century, while Portuguese ships were returning from Africa with their first human cargoes, all the European governments began to impose the severest penalties against contraception, abortion and infanticide’.[406] In her analysis of the historical dynamics and processes that led to the devaluation of women’s reproductive labour, Silvia stresses the importance of the witch trials, the criminalisation of women’s control over procreation and the degradation of maternity to a relative and literal position of forced labour. However, like many other feminist scholars, she also characterises the dynamic that was gaining momentum in eighteenth century as one that assigned men and women to separate spheres of influence and work and one that particularly designated women to the domestic sphere and privatised family structure. Silvia argues that the historic changes in the social location and power of women - that peaked in the nineteenth century with the creation of the full-time housewife - redefined women’s position in society and in relation to men.[407] It was within the emergent bourgeois ‘middle-class’ that the family and the household were first defined as separate from the sphere of production. Leonore Davidoff and Catherine Hall argue that the construction of women’s naturalised domestic role within the family was key to the bourgeois assertion of cultural authority and political power, enabling the middling classes to relocate the idea of virtue, honour and morality away from the inherited form of aristocratic noblesse oblige, into the domestic sphere?[408] As guardians of morality, middle-class women were also the bearers of bourgeois cultural hegemony and, as Davidoff and Hall demonstrate, middle-class women themselves played an active role in the production of domestic ideology, just as their domestic labour made a vital contribution to middle-class economic production. Not only did middle-class women, along with the enormous amounts of work of their female servants, perform the reproductive labour upon which all the now differentiated ‘productive’ labour of men depended, but as consumers of an ever-increasing range of household commodities - soft furnishings, ornaments, cleaning products - they were also central in shaping new forms of commodity capitalism and colonial economies, while actively creating a new middle-class identity. It is within this context that McClintock argues that imperialism and colonialism were not something that happened ‘elsewhere - a disagreeable fact of history external to Western identity’. Rather, imperialism and the invention of race were fundamental aspects of Western, industry modernity [... that] became central not only to the self-definition of the middle-class but also to the policing of the ‘dangerous classes’: the working-class, the Irish, Jews, prostitutes, feminists, gays and lesbians, criminals, the militant crowd.[409] She makes a similar claim with respect to the cult of domesticity as neither simply trivial nor belonging only to the private, ‘natural’ realm of the family. McClintock argues that the cult of domesticity was a crucial, if concealed dimension of male, as well as female identities, and an indispensable element both of the industrial market and the imperial enterprise. The domesticated family structure that came to dominate middle-class homes mediated between the public and private spheres and, importantly, connected the emerging market with the domestic sphere. Davidoff and Hall’s analysis of gender subjectivities of middle-class men and women highlights the class and gender formations that both constructed, and were constructed by, the creation of this domestic sphere. In particular, their work draws attention to the role of the middle-class home, a space that can be said to have been built on the expropriation of the labour of both working-class men and women, whether in the public world of the workplace (factories) or the private workplace of the home, with ‘service’ being an industry that employed upwards of one-third of all working-age women by the nineteenth century.[410] Of course, this expropriation was also only made possible by the immense amount of wealth produced by slave labour on the plantations. Thus, the bourgeois household emerges from and is wholly integrated into the ‘triangular trade’. As a home and workplace of millions of workingclass servants, as well as middle-class wives, it is the site of consumption of commodities produced both in the colonies and in Britain’s factories. The factories, for their part, produced commodities and value, and simultaneously consumed both raw materials from the colonies and labour-power, the latter that was ‘replenished’ by means of ‘cheapened’ (in that they were produced by slave labour) commodities from the plantations. In other words, slave plantations produced materials that reproduced workers in both the public and the private realm. This interconnected and complex picture of the boundaries that demarcated private from public emphasises the fact that the public was not really public, nor the private really that private. Furthermore, despite the powerful imagery and discourse of the separate spheres of work and home, both the private and public are ideological constructs with specific meanings that are the product of a particular historical time, constantly being contested and under revision. Separate spheres for men and women reflected, justified and made sense of the reorganisation of society brought about by the development of industrial capitalism. Within bourgeois middle-class discourses of work, gender and the family, the potent combination and intersection of the constructions of labours of leisure (the housewife) and labours of invisibility (servants) served to further conceal and deny the economic value of women’s domestic work. The defeminisation of women slaves and the measurable cost of reproduction under slavery effectively excluded female slaves not only from constructions of motherhood but also, more generally, from being imagined as women. *** Labour In the British Empire, the relative ‘cheapness’ of slave labour declined when the trade in slaves was made illegal in 1807, prompting plantation owners to adopt a slave breeding policy. Slavery itself - as opposed to the trade in slave - wasn’t abolished in the British Empire for another 26 years. Writing specifically about the histories of slavery in the United States - where slavery remained legal until the end of the Civil War in 1865 - Davis argues that when the abolition of the international slave trade began to threaten the expansion of the young cotton-industry, ‘the slaveholding class was forced to rely on natural reproduction ... [and that] ... during the decades preceding the Civil War, Black women came to be increasingly appraised for their fertility (or for the lack of it)’?[411] The ‘turn’ to a reliance on biological reproduction, as opposed to the slave trade, has been debated and analysed by numerous scholars and ‘much has been made of the slaveholders’ definition of the Black family as a matrilocal structure’?[412] In The Black Family in Slavery and Freedom, Herbert Gutman presents evidence of developed and complex family structures that existed during slavery. These were not the infamous matriarchal family,[413] but rather families involving wife, husband, children and frequently other relatives, as well as adoptive kin.[414] Undeniably slave families were separated and disrupted, however Gutman also argues that slaves adhered to strict norms regulating their familial arrangements. Patricia Hill Collins further develops Gutman’s argument, suggesting that, ‘enslaved Africans were property and one way that many resisted the dehumanising effects of slavery was by re-creating African notions of family as extended kin units’.[415] She argues that this slave community stood in opposition to a White-man controlled public sphere of political economy. Connected to modes of resistance against dehumanisation was the relative security that often accompanied motherhood, where ‘childbearing was a way for enslaved Black women to anchor themselves in a place for an extended period and maintain enduring relationships with husbands, family, and friends’?[416] Collins also argues that, within the elevated status of motherhood, the refusal of slave women to bear children and cases of Black infanticide can also be read as acts of resistance to the system of slavery and its dependence on the bodies of slave women. Collins also outlines the various mechanisms involved both in calculating the costs (to slave-owners) of reproduction and in encouraging reproduction. These included: ‘assigning pregnant women lighter workloads, giving pregnant women more attention and rations, and rewarding prolific women with bonuses’?[417] Deborah Gray White writes that, ‘slave masters wanted adolescent girls to have children, and to this end they practiced a passive though insidious kind of breeding’.[418] Gutman also notes that, especially after the abolition of the overseas slave trade, a high premium was placed on females who began early to bear children. Of course, slaves and owners measured the birth of a child differently: ‘the owner viewed the birth of a slave child primarily as an economic fact but the slave viewed the same event primarily as a social and familial fact’.[419] It is within the complex conceptualisation of equality in exploitation and enslavement and the valorisation of a limited, yet present, domestic life, that Davis adds another dimension to the story of slavery and gender: Black women ‘also asserted their equality aggressively in challenging the inhuman institution of slavery’.[420] Female slaves engaged in various acts of resistance. For example, they ‘poisoned their masters, committed other acts of sabotage and, like their men, joined maroon communities and frequently fled northward to freedom’.[421] Two of the better-known slave women, Sojourner Truth (c .1797-1883) and Harriet Tubman (c .1822-1913) were both born into slavery in the United States and subsequently escaped and lived as ‘free’ women. Both were prominent abolitionist and women’s rights activists. In 1828, Truth won a landmark lawsuit to recover her son Peter who had been illegally sold into slavery in Alabama, becoming the first black woman in the United States to take a white man to court and win. After escaping in 1849, Tubman was involved in rescuing hundreds of enslaved friends and family using the network of antislavery activists and safe houses known as the Underground Railroad.[422] Yet, not every slave was a Sojourner Truth or Harriet Tubman. Strength, as White argues, ‘had to be cultivated. It came no more naturally to them than to anyone, slave or free, male or female, black or white. If [slave women] seemed exceptionally strong it was partly because they often functioned in groups and derived strength from numbers’.[423] Davis also notes that slave women’s resistance was often also subtle and included, for example, the clandestine acquisition of reading and writing skills and the imparting of this knowledge to others. An analysis of slaves’ social and domestic lives helps to foreground a crucial antagonistic space within slavery, a space where slaves performed, according to Davis, ‘the only labor of the slave community which could not be directly and immediately claimed by the oppressor... Domestic labor was the only meaningful labor for the slave community as a whole’.[424] She argues that the domestic life of slaves took on an over-determined importance as it provided them with the only space ‘where they could truly experience themselves as human beings. Black women, for this reason - and also because they were workers just like men - were not debased by their domestic functions in the way that white women came to be’.[425] According to Davis the special character of domestic labour during slavery, its centrality to men and women slaves, involved work that was not exclusively female. While women typically cooked and sewed, men did the gardening and hunting, this sexual division of domestic labour was not organised hierarchically: men’s tasks were not considered superior to the work performed by women and this division was not always rigorous. *** Home Although the home may offer a potential space for resistance and renewal, it is a contested space. It is a space that resists simplification and, crucially, destabilises claims to universal experiences of womanhood and motherhood. In the essay, Homeplace, bell hooks argues that ‘attempts to critically assess the role of black women in liberation struggle must examine the way political concern about the impact of racism shaped black women’s thinking, their sense of home and their modes of parenting’.[426] In a similar vein, Collins argues that critiques of motherhood and the family from feminists in the 1970s and 1980s overwhelmingly reflected white, middle-class women’s experiences and typically lacked an adequate race and class perspective. On the question of motherhood, specifically the experiences and construction of black motherhood that have so often been absent from feminist discourse, Collins is critical of what she terms the controlling image of the ‘superstrong Black mother’ that ‘praises Black women’s resiliency in a society that routinely paints us as bad mothers’.[427] Her point is that, ‘to remain on their pedestal, these same superstrong Black mothers must continue to place their needs behind everyone else, especially their sons’.[428] hooks is also clear that that the tradition of ‘black mother worship’, though positively motivated, ‘extols the virtues of self-sacrifice while simultaneously implying that such a gesture is not reflective of choice and will, rather the perfect embodiment of a woman’s “natural” role’.[429] Speaking directly to the prevalent discourse within second-wave (white) feminism that indentified the family as the source of women’s oppression, Hazel Carby argues that ‘we need to recognize that during slavery, periods of colonialism, and under the present authoritarian state, the black family has been a site of political and cultural resistance to racism’.[430] Her point is that for some women (and also men and children) the home operated historically as (and continues to offer the possibility to be) an important site of resistance to institutional and structural racism and white supremacy. Drawing similar conclusions to Carby, hooks argues that, within the context of the historical experiences of African-American women, ‘homeplace’ is a site of resistance to dominating and exploitative social structures. ‘Historically, African-American people believe that the construction of a homeplace, however fragile and tenuous (the slave hut, the wooden shack), had a radical political dimension’.[431] Furthermore, hooks contends, ‘black women resisted by making homes where all black people could strive to be subjects, not objects, where we could be affirmed in our minds and hearts despite poverty, hardship, and deprivation, where we could restore to ourselves the dignity denied [to] us on the outside in the public world’.[432] In this way, homeplace is conceived of as existing beyond the idea of home as a property. It is instead both a space which one can retreat to and recover in, and also a place of labour, specifically of resistant reproduction that teaches ‘dignity [and] integrity of being’.[433] hooks is clear that the tasks and labours undertaken by black women in making homeplace cannot be reduced simply to a matter of black women providing service. On the contrary, ‘it was about the construction of a safe place where black people could affirm one another and by so doing heal many of the wounds inflicted by racist domination’.[434] The construction of homeplace as a site of resistance differs from the home as a place of paid work. It is useful to circle back briefly to the notion of service, specifically the histories of certain women (working-class, women of colour and migrants) providing domestic services as paid workers (domestic worker, cleaners, nannies and elder care workers) in other people’s homes. hooks speaks to the ‘tension between service outside one’s home, family and kin network, service provided to white folks which took time and energy, and the effort of black women to conserve enough of themselves to provide service (care and nurturance) within their own families and communities’.[435] The experience of home as a site of paid work, experiences that overwhelmingly occur in other people’s homes, opens up another line of resistance in relation to the home. The labour struggles that transformed ‘service’ in Britain from a form of employment that had historically been a live-in job to one that was part-time and live out, can be read as women’s resistance to the conditions of isolation, domination and exploitation of paid domestic work. It is the construction of the home as belonging to the privatised sphere and, therefore, what goes on inside as somewhat concealed, out of bounds or at least out of view, that produces a specific mode of exploitation for those who labour within it. In so far as it is useful to assert that there are many multiple experiences and, at times, contradictory meanings of home, it is also crucial to not be seduced by notions of the home as a space that is inherently good, stable or natural. The conceptualisation of home as a radical site of resistance is not inherent. Instead it is a political orientation that seeks to revalue and reconfigure the home as site of counter-power and one that must confront the construction and maintenance of patriarchal masculinity and capitalist social relations. In locating and making visible home as a potential and lived place of resistance, it is also necessary to remain attentive to experiences of home as a place of exploitative waged and unwaged work and sensitive to the experiences of many people, many of them women for whom the home is a space marked by violence, isolation and unhappiness. Indeed the task is to confront the contradictory constructions of home, so as to make clear the social structures that perpetuate it as a site of domination. The challenge in confronting the home and reproduction as a problematic is to make sense of the various structures, histories and processes that have produced the traditional white nuclear family as the normative family structure. *** Conclusion As Chandra Mohanty so forcefully argued, the relationship between ‘Woman’ a cultural and ideological construction and ‘women’ who are real material subjects of our collective histories is one of the central questions that feminism seeks to act upon?[436] Insofar as women have multiple histories, they are histories that always intertwine but which are also frequently in conflict: working-class women, who are required to be both workers and mothers; middle-class women, many of who were historically ‘just housewives’ but who are also now mostly working mothers; women of colour, who have been excluded from discourses of ‘good’ motherhood and have traditionally always worked, as slaves, as bonded labourers and today overwhelmingly in badly-paid and low-status jobs. Slavery and colonialism made it possible to reduce the costs of reproducing labour-power in the industrial metropolis: the benefits of this were shared, unequally, between capitalists and (white) workers. For the wage that capital paid the industrial worker, it also purchased the unwaged labour of the slave. So too with the historical organisation of domestic labour, whereby capital harnessed both the (‘productive’) labour of the man and reproductive labour of his wife for the cost of the (male) wage. This dynamic of both concealment and dependency reappears in the contemporary racialised organisation of reproduction in which both waged and forms of commodified reproductive labour has dramatically increased and diversified. The low-waged reproductive work performed by migrants - predominantly women of colour - is central to the contemporary maintenance and reproduction of labour-power. Framed another way, the ‘middle-class’ status of many families and households, whose wages have, in fact, stagnated since the 1970s, is based almost entirely upon the devalued labour of women of colour, on whom they depend on to clean their homes and offices, look after their children and care for their elder relatives. [386] Silvia Federici, Caliban and the Witch: Women, the Body and Primitive Accumulation (New York: Autonomedia, 2004), p. 91. [387] H.J. Spillers, ‘Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe: An American Grammar Book’, Diacritics 17(2), Culture and Counter Memory: The ‘American’ Connection (Summer 1987), pp. 65-81. [388] B. Bryan, S. Dadzie and S. Scafe, The Heart of the Race: Black Women’s Lives in Britain (London: Virago Press, 1985), p. 18. [389] C. Robinson, Black Marxism: The Making of the Black Radical Tradition (University of North Carolina Press, 2000 original edition, 1983), p. 81. [390] Ibid. [391] E. Williams, Capitalism and Slavery (London: Andre Puetsch, 1966, original edition, 1944), p. 52. [392] Federici, Caliban and the Witch, p. 103. [393] M. Mies, Patriarchy and Accumulation on a World Scale (London: Zed Books, 1998, original edition, 1986). [394] Federici, Caliban and the Witch, p. 104. [395] b. hooks, Ain’t I a Woman (Boston: South End Press), p. 32. [396] A. Davis, Women, Race & Class (New York: Random House, 1983, original edition 1981), p. 5. [397] W. Pease cited in D.G. White, 1985. Ar’n’t I a Woman? Female Slaves in the Plantation South (New York: W.W. Norton, 1985), p. 120. [398] Spiller, Mama’s Baby, Papa’s Maybe, p. 67, emphasis in the original. [399] Davis, Women, Race & Class, pp. 5-6. [400] Ibid., p. 12. [401] Ibid., p. 7. [402] Orland Patterson, The Sociology of Slavery (London: Magibbon and Kee, 1967), p. 105. [403] Douglas Hall, ‘Slaves and slavery in the British West Indies’, Social and Economic Studies 11(4), 1962, p. 306, cited in Rhoda E. Reddock, ‘Women and slavery in the Caribbean: A Feminist Perspective’, Latin American Perspectives 12(1), Winter 1985, p. 67. [404] Gwendolyn Midlo Hall, Social Control in Slave Plantation Societies (Baltimore, MD: John Hopkins Press, 1971), p. 26, citied in Rhoda E. Reddock, Women and Slavery in the Caribbean, p. 67. [405] L. Davidoff and C. Hall, Family Fortunes: Men and Women of the English Middle Class, 1780-1880 (London: Routledge, 1992, original edition, 1987). [406] Federici, Caliban and the Witch, p. 88. [407] Ibid., p. 75. [408] L. Davidoff and C. Hall, Family Fortunes: Men and Women of the English Middle Class, 1780-1880 (London: Routledge, 1992, original edition, 1987). [409] McClintock, Imperial Leather, p. 5. [410] Todd, S., Domestic Service and Class Relations in Britain 1900-1950. Past and Present 2009, 203, pp. 182-204. [411] Davis, Women, Race & Class, p. 6. [412] Ibid., p. 12. [413] Moynihan, D.P., The Negro Family: The Case for National Action (Washington DC: US Department of Labor, 1965). [414] H. Gutman, The Black Family in Slavery and Freedom, 1750-1925 (New York: Pantheon Books, 1976). [415] P.H. Collins, Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness, and the Politics of Empowerment (New York & London: Routledge, 2000; original edition, 1990), p. 55. [416] Ibid., p. 58. [417] Ibid., p. 57. [418] White, Ar’n’t I a Woman?, p. 98. [419] Gutman, The Black Family in Slavery and Freedom, 1750-1925, p. 75. [420] Davis, Women, Race & Class, p. 19. [421] Ibid. [422] K.C. Larson, Bound For the Promised Land: Harriet Tubman, Portrait of an American Hero (New York: Ballantine Book, 2004). [423] White, Ar’n’t I a Woman?, p. 119. [424] A. Davis, ‘Reflections on the Black Woman’s Role in the Community of Slaves’, The Massachusetts Review 3(1-2), 1972, p. 89. [425] Davis, Women, Race & Class, pp. 16-17. [426] b. hooks, Yearning: Race, Gender and Cultural Politics (Boston, MA: South End Press, 1990), p. 46. [427] Collins, Black Feminist Thought, p. 188. [428] Ibid. [429] b. hooks, Yearning, p. 45. [430] H.V. Carby, ‘White Woman Listen! Black Feminism and the Boundaries of Sisterhood’. In Centre for Contemporary Cultural Studies (eds), The Empire Strikes Back: Race and Sexism in 70s Britain (London: Hutchinson, 1982), p. 112. [431] b. hooks, Yearning, p. 42. [432] Ibid. [433] Ibid., p. 41. [434] Ibid., p. 42. [435] Ibid., p. 42. [436] Mohanty, C., ‘Under Western Eyes: Feminist Scholarship and Colonial Discourses’, Feminist Review 30, 1988, pp. 61-88. ** 14. Along the Fasara - A Short Story P.M. Mika, the woolly rhino mother, was devouring bunch after bunch of the tough marsh grass. Her young one, little Nipo, was nibbling at fresher and softer herbs, never more than a few steps away from his mother. It was a peaceful late summer afternoon; one wrote the year 12’967 bce. Only a few small white clouds were suspended in the deep blue sky. The air in the valley was glimmering because of the heat, countless insects were humming around, and butterflies were dancing along. Their curly dark brown coats protected mother and son against the hungry gnats and horseflies. Now it was the time to fatten oneself for the harsh winter. So far it had been a good summer, rather short, but lush, humid and hot. It was quiet in the valley, no dangers. The lion pride was fast asleep two kilometres further up. Wolves and hyenas didn’t dare to attack rhinos. Old Arko, the lone tiger, was far away, too, somewhere on the plateau, probably, stalking a limping deer or a bison calf. But what? The woolly rhino mother sniffed the air, her left ear twitched. Humans! Still far away, in the river. Approaching fast. Mika reacted leisurely and without panicking, moving towards the western wall of the valley, into a rocky bay, grown over by thicker and higher brushwood. No need to take any chances with humans. Best remain unseen. Mika grunted towards her young one, who followed her obediently. Magla and Tana were merrily paddling down the river, which they called Fasara in their simple, but melodious language. Their double canoe was made of deer hides - a perfect piece of craftsmanship. They had stowed away their ample luggage under the bow and the stern. They kept their two javelins ready at hand, just in case. Both women had their long black hair plaited and arranged in coils on both sides of their heads - to keep it out of the way. They had fleshy, round faces, an olive-green skin, plump cheeks and they were squinting their dark eyes because of the reflections of the sun in the river. Their bodies were robust and rather short, with a long rump and short legs. Magla’s face was triangular with a small, pointed chin; Tana had a double chin and a flatter nose. To appear as unnatural as possible they had painted their lips in red, lined their eyes in black and put a light blue shade on their lids. They were wearing armless vests made of fine, bleached chamois leather, stitched with pearls of mussels and beads of stones in gaily coloured patterns. Both had the same tattoo on their left upper arm: a crow, a bear, a lizard, their taboo animals. They were not allowed to either kill or eat them. No big gastronomic loss. Magla and Tana were not on a hunt, that’s why they were laughing and singing loudly. They were actually announcing their arrival to whoever was present in the valley. They were on their trip to the winter quarters at the South Ocean, a recon team looking for a campsite for the night. They loved this task and volunteered as often as they could. They felt exhilarated to be away for a few hours from the other thirty members of the glorious and proud crow-bear-lizard society, Kagurasifa, in their own language. They had just eaten fermented hemp cakes and were shouting the stupid song of the clumsy bear, which climbs a tree and falls down on his ass into a thorny bush. Whenever they sang the refrain, they smacked the water with their paddles and laughed out loudly. There was enough water in the river, which was smooth and without any dangerous rapids. At some places in one of its many bends it enlarged into shallow lakes where they had to paddle to get ahead. The valley was between one and two kilometres wide and lined with high, beige-white rocky walls. High up on the rim the pine forests of the plateau formed a dark green band. In the blue sky vultures, buzzards and, more rarely, eagles were gliding about, looking out for prey. Swallows had built their nests in the cliffs. Once in a while their screaming swarms dived down to the river to catch insects. Insects didn’t bother Magla and Tana, as they had applied a repellent salve that also smelled pleasantly and had a slightly arousing effect. Magla was thirsty and scooped up water with her hollow hand, splashing some on Tana, who retaliated by whipping up some water with her paddle. The canoe wavered, almost capsized, but they managed to balance it out. They were experts. ‘There!’ Magla hissed, pointing her paddle at the eastern shore. A brown-furred otter was standing on his hind legs and observing the two women intently. His whiskers twitched disapprovingly. Then he dived into the river with an elegant jump. There was no sound and no splash. Another expert. ‘Bathing weather,’ Tana commented. ‘Let’s go swimming right now,’ Magla suggested. ‘The camp site first.’ ‘It’s ideally suited everywhere here.’ They let themselves drift along and sang another song about the clever crow that could read old fairy tales from knots in strings. Just as they had reached another loop, they heard a terrified scream from the cliff on the left. They looked up and saw an eagle attacking and shredding a crow. Feathers were thrown around, wings slapped against wings. In the end the big eagle carried away the limp crow. ‘What a piece of shit!’ Magla exclaimed. The two women were shocked: a really bad omen. ‘Look, there!’ Tana pointed at one of the balconies in the cliff: a large, brown spot. ‘Bura, the she-bear,’ she explained, ‘with two young ones.’ ‘She lives there, on the sunny side of the valley, well protected against the wind,’ Magla said, a frown on her forehead. They stopped the canoe with their paddles and let it land on a soft, sandy beach. They climbed out of the boat and pulled it on the beach, half lifting it in order not to damage the skin. ‘Bura having young ones is a good omen,’ Tana said, ‘I hope it evens out the crow’s death. All we need now is a message from the lizards.’ ‘They’re all over the place anyway,’ Magla answered, ‘let’s not believe too much in omens. But look at Bura’s cave and terrace - hasn’t she found a perfect place? Southwesterly oriented, protected against north winds, near the river, but no danger of floods, a lot of game and fish all around here.’ ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking? You want to stay here through the winter?’ ‘It could be possible.’ ‘And Bura, the she-bear?’ Tana objected. ‘We’d have to give notice of termination of her lease,’ Magla remarked with a cruel smile. Tana shook her head, as if to shake off a completely unthinkable idea. ‘Let’s look just for a suitable camp site,’ she said, with a sigh. They were wearing old leather shorts and were barefoot. They carried the canoe further up to the fringe of the sand strip, near the first willow trees. They looked around. ‘There,’ Tana cried, ‘between those alder trees, next to the two rounded rocks!’ She pointed towards a large open sandy area. ‘Great,’ Magla said, ‘soft ground, and good protection against winds. Not too close to the river. You never can tell.’ The first thing they did, was to cut down an alder pole with one of their sharp stone axes. Then they attached the red kid skin pennant of their society to it and rammed it into the sandy beach, as a clearly visible sign for the others. They fetched their baggage from the canoe: the winter clothes, the mocassins, the fur boots, fur caps, bows and arrows, leather bags, knives, ivory statuettes, angling gear, sewing set, contraceptives, drugs, toys, combs, balms and oils in bone flasks. They carried the bundles to the campsite and started gathering firewood. The others would probably arrive in the evening and be grateful for a fire - and some food. So Tana said: ‘Let’s go fishing!’ They took their fishing gear and walked along the shore, in the direction of the bear cave. They looked up to the rocky wall. There were three balconies about fifty metres upward, wide ledges, caves, bays and smaller holes. To reach the bear’s place a wide rubble slope had to be crossed. ‘We’d have to make a ladder and to block the access across the rubble,’ Magla said. ‘You seem to be infatuated with your cliff house.’ Magla insisted: ‘We could stay here even in winter. It could be possible.’ ‘But why? We already have our usual winter camp in the Baka valley.’ ‘It’s nicer here. And there is more game, and more space.’ Tana shook her head. ‘You want to put tents on those rock ledges?’ ‘No tents,’ Tana replied, still looking up the cliff dreamily, ‘huts, woven walls - real housing.’ ‘I can’t believe it!’ Tana exclaimed, ‘We’ve been going down the Fasara for tens of thousands of years. There must be a reason why we’ve been doing this. But now super-clever Ms. Magla comes and says, let’s stay here.’ ‘You’re right: thousands of years is a long time. But things can change. Tents are okay, but here we could live much more comfortably. We could have permanent hearths, sheltered work places, cosy meeting rooms...’ ‘If Bura lets us,’ Tana objected. ‘We’ll get rid of her. No problem.’ ‘Whatever. Let’s stop this nonsense and catch some trout,’ Tana interrupted her friend. They found some rapids and soon they discovered the gray shadows of the fish. They prepared their baits, wielded their hazel rods. The fish bit. After a short while they walked back to the camp with two dozen trout on a hemp string. Bura, the she-bear, peeping down out of her cave, hadn’t missed any part of the action on the sandy peninsula. The humans had piled up branches and driftwood. A canoe was parked nearby on the sand. Then they had been fishing, a lot of fish in a very short time. Bura was hungry. She had been planning to go fishing herself in the late afternoon and to make her round of the valley. Fishing was part of her age-old programme. Bears had been fishing here for hundreds of thousands of years. You could speak of entitlement. But now - she grunted annoyedly. You had to watch out with humans. They were like hyenas - harmless individually, very dangerous as a pack. If they didn’t move on the next day - as they always did - she had to think about moving away. As long as they stayed down at the river, there was no acute danger. Had they discovered her already? They were very unconcerned. They even took off their coats. They jumped into the water. The two females horsed around in the shallow river, then they swam against the current like beavers or otters. Were they hunting? Presently they disappeared and surfaced some meters downstream. They were like big fish. Maybe it was feasible to kill them - but they were too big! They were playing! Bura suddenly felt like bathing, too. She often swam through the river with her young ones, to eat blueberries on the other shore. You could also find rabbits or grouse. Very tasty! But today she’d rather stay in her cave, in spite of the hunger. Bura was worried. The humans had been looking up to her and communicating in an acoustic language in a lively manner, mentioning her name. Magla and Tana laid their plump, brown bodies on the warm sand of the beach and enjoyed the sun. Agum, the vulture, was circling far above them and wondering whether there were corpses lying there. He dived downwards. Magla chased away a fly with her hand. No cadavers. Live humans, no food. Back to the half-eaten deer skeleton under the crippled fir tree. Uko, the otter, was swimming by. When he surfaced briefly, he saw the two women lying in the sand. Phew! He had seen them diving - nothing to write home about, mere beginners! Their fishing was world-class, though, respect! Could he get to the trout, while they were asleep? Anyway, it was shameless to lie on the beach without coats. He had to tell Ruva to keep the kids in the burrow. But look now„. A swarm of canoes came down the river, ten, twenty, thirty. A lot of humans! Loud humans, shouting and laughing humans. Wrinkled old ones with grey or white ponytail hair styles, wriggly children in smaller canoes, paddling along wildly, yapping dogs, proud hunters, a merry society. Uko dived away. Dako, one of the young men, saw the camp sign first, shouting a throaty ‘Yahoo!’ and steering his canoe, that he shared with his cousin Lasa, to the sand bank. Tana and Magla jumped up, rubbed their eyes, and waved to them. They put on their clothes, took along the trout, and walked over to Dako. ‘We’re early,’ he said, blinking into the sun. ‘The camp site is over there,’ Tana explained, pointing at the spot behind the alder trees. ‘The fish is here.’ Magla showed him the trout. ‘Great,’ he said, ‘a perfect place, nice trout, too.’ The canoes went ashore. The first thing was the dogs running around excitedly. Then the children ran after them, screaming. Within a few minutes the beach was filled with canoes, the sandy peninsula the theatre of a busy open-air household. The kids were already in the water with the dogs. The adults carried the baggage to the campsite. Agu, the oldest member of the society, screened the surroundings and discovered Bura’s cave. ‘Let’s go swimming,’ said Fira, his companion. Agu smiled. ‘Good idea, learning from the kids, eh?’ Rather clumsily they peeled themselves out of their clothes. They walked to the beach and swam to the other shore. They went onto the sand bank and walked a few steps into the bushwood. ‘Rhinos,’ Agu remarked, ‘have been drinking here a few hours ago. A mother with her young one. Fresh dung, too.’ ‘Nice spot,’ Fira said, who sat on a flat rock, with her feet in the river. Agu joined her. ‘This ledge up here,’ she said, ‘three large terraces, neat and dry. A valley with lots of fish, lots of game. Beeches, oaks, all sorts of herbs. A little paradise.’ Agu squinted his eyes. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘Remember Difa? What he told us about the toad-fox-adder people, who build houses with clay and twigs and live therein for many years. It could be done up here very easily. You don’t even need roofs.’ Agu nodded and smiled. ‘We’re a bit tired, aren’t we?’ She kissed him lovingly. ‘That’s not the point,’ she said, ‘It just seems the time for a fresh start. After these thousands of years.’ ‘Thousands of years,’ he sighed thoughtfully, ‘it seems a long time. But if you start every day as a new day, it’s nothing. As long as we’re happy, nothing must change.’ ‘Are you happy?’ ‘Yes, with you I’ve always been happy.’ ‘Old toady. One can be happy in many ways.’ ‘Okay. But Bura isn’t stupid. We’ll have to winkle her out.’ Fira grinned. ‘No problem. Remember Tuka?’ ‘Oh, Tuka!’ he exclaimed with a deep sigh. Many years ago, this obtrusive, scheming and shameless woman had dared to approach Agu. Fira had got rid of her successfully - but it was still an open wound, because Agu had been more than flattered. Now Tuka lived with frog-leech-eel, where she had found a young man stupid enough to cope with her. In front of their lodge across the river, Uko and Ruva, the otter parents, had been watching the activities on the peninsula. Humans all over the place! And in their river. Some were scooping up water with leather buckets. Two were angling. The kids were everywhere; a dog had tried to hunt Uko down. Others just went back and forth busily. ‘There goes the neighborhood,’ Uko hissed to his wife. ‘And the family values.’ They’d just managed to chase their young ones back into the lodge, when they had discovered that two grey haired humans were making love in the grass, just nearby, in plain sight. ‘I hope, they’ll move on soon,’ Ruva whispered, ‘or we will have to pack up.’ There was chaos everywhere. Lizards went hiding under rocks. A dismayed water snake had fled downriver. Ducks flew up. Even Bura looked worried. On top of all they smelled of this awful oil, the stink of their society. ‘I’ve overheard these two shameless individuals talking about staying here,’ Ruva reported. ‘We’ll have to talk to the others,’ Uko remarked grimly. ‘Talk, talk, - you never really do something about anything,’ Ruva complained. ‘A dog, let’s get in!’ And they disappeared. As the sun set behind the western rim, the air cooled off fast in the valley. Agu, Magla and others observed that the terraces in the cliff just across were still in the sun. They also noticed that the wall of rock was radiating heat through the whole night. Before nightfall they had put on their long trousers and long-sleeved shirts and they had rubbed perfumed insect-repellent on their bodies. Neatly groomed they sat around two campfires grilling fish, a few rabbits and some ducks. The fires were burning brightly, with much smoke and flames, announcing their presence to all inhabitants of the valley. Lomo, the oldest lion further up in the valley, expressed his indignation with a bone-shattering roar that ended in a protracted, miserable cough. There was much laughter about the old show-off at the campsite. When they had eaten, drunk and lit their hemp pipes, the moment for discussions and story telling had come. Fira, the oldest and most experienced of all women of Kagurasifa, brought up the topic of the rock terrace. Magla had already spoken to her briefly, and Agu, one of the three oldest hunters, was fully informed, too. At first, the idea was flatly rejected. The tradition of thousands of happy years was evoked, the feasibility questioned, logistical problems mentioned. But most were willing to think about it, with the exception of some young men and women. How could they meet their far-away lovers in other societies, how could they continue their affairs that they had begun last autumn? Their lovers were all waiting for them down in the Baka valley. Furthermore the canoe trip to the ocean had always been great fun - why stop here already? Fira found out that only two men and one very young woman had such affairs going. They could paddle on in two canoes and inform the other societies about what Kagurasifa were up to. They would worry about them not coming this year. In other years, they would all travel down and up again. This would just become their new permanent base camp for all kinds of trips and expeditions. They wouldn’t be stuck here for ever. ‘Let’s give it a try,’ Ukam, one of the bravest hunters in his prime years, exclaimed, ‘Let’s get us settled here and see, what happens. Game is plentiful around here. We won’t starve.’ Tura, another sophisticated hunter and unorthodox trapper, was all for it too. She considered it as a thrilling social experiment, probably the beginning of a new life style with un-thought-of possibilities. Agu liked this way of thinking. ‘I’m the oldest of this association,’ he said, ‘the keeper of traditions and customs. But I’m looking forward to being involved in a new adventure. Fifty years, just up and down the Fasara, that’s enough!’ ‘Fifty years is a long time!’ Tana joked. ‘Okay, tomorrow, we’ll start building,’ stated Duba, Fira’s sister and one of the three self-proclaimed wise women of the society. Now Paka, the intellectual of the society and master of the drum, sang the long ballad of the mythical oak tree, in which the crow, the woodpecker and the owl lived and quarreled until they created a united front against the mean marten. They sang a few shorter songs, scaring sensitive night-active rodents and small predators and fell asleep contentedly. All those bats, owls, weasels, rats and beavers could finally get down to their respective businesses undisturbed. Even Uko swam out and caught some late supper for his family. A fat eel. In the next morning Mika, the woolly rhino mother, came to the conclusion that this year it was worse than it had ever been. The humans were louder, more reckless in their amorous and musical activities, and they seemed to make no move to pack up. The sun was already high up over the eastern rim and they were still here. Was it time to abandon this valley definitively, being a responsible rhino mother? To be on the safe side, she ambled further down the valley with her son, getting away from the focus of the disturbance. Uko didn’t have a good morning either. The humans had started to frolick in the river right after sunrise; they communicated in their loud, vulgar language and began to wash their clothes in his drinking water. Ruva, who was nursing their young ones in the lodge, hadn’t stopped accusing him of cowardice, inaction and lack of initiative. She even accused him of being a peeping Tom, an anthropophile and a traitor of his species. Uko considered emigration. So far only two canoes had left: were the others planning to stay? After the morning bath they met for the first strategy discussion. ‘Bura usually moves away, when humans stay in her vicinity for too long,’ Fira began, ‘but that can take days. We should nudge her away a bit. Some of us could climb up to the rim and begin to annoy her. She can’t climb up, so she must move to the left or the right on the ledge. Then we must block her access - bears ware very conservative and always return to their lairs. I suggest we close the narrow passage with a big rock.’ ‘And how are we going to get in then?’ Tana asked. ‘We’ll build ladders.’ ‘So we need annoyers,’ Agu concluded, ‘big rock movers and ladder makers.’ The children were recruited as annoyers, putting to use their natural competence. The strongest women and men should find a big rock and set it in place with diverse levers, poles and ropes. The old ones should build wooden ladders. By around noon, Bura felt uncomfortable and had decided to move. There had been continuous harassment by falling pebbles, pinecones and branches, and she had had to endure incredible obscenities shouted by adolescent rowdies. Of course she was outraged - but what could she do? Her young ones were entitled to a decent education. What they experienced and heard here could damage their psychological health for their whole lives. With her two little ones she walked along the ledge in a southern direction. As soon as she had left the small passage, a huge object came down from above and got crammed in the gap with a loud bang. Bura understood: she would never be able to come back to her favorite terrace. She growled angrily and ambled away: this valley was lost for her. But there were other valleys. As soon as the big rock was safely in place, the old ones put up one of their ladders and climbed onto the first terrace. There they erected their second ladder and reached the second terrace, and then the third one. They were on the sunniest terrace now. The initial disappointment was severe: the ground was full of bear shit, bones and rotten debris of all kinds. The caves stank horribly. Then they looked down into the valley. The sight was stunning. They were enthusiastic. ‘Okay, that’s it,’ Fira said, ‘let’s start the cleaning.’ To the dismay of all later archeologists the society cleaned out the whole terrace and the caves quite thoroughly. They found some human bones and skulls from earlier ages, probably from the ‘friendly old ones’, as they called them, that had lived there, or whose bones had been dragged there by predators. They threw everything down the cliff. They kept one skull for decorative purposes. Meno, the old badger, who had dug his burrow near the foot of the wall of rock, wasn’t pleased with the new developments. ‘They come here and throw all their rubbish in front of our cave and we can’t figure out how to deal with it. They’re full of their non-patriarchal social structures and their consensus-oriented methods of communication, but they don’t show even the most minimal respect for the less privileged ecological stakeholders. At least they could’ve organised public hearings with us old-established, concerned residents. But no, they just go ahead. It’s always the little ones that are hit. They’ve driven out Bura brutally. I’m being buried in waste. What’s next? We’re headed towards an ecological catastrophe.’ The floors were wiped with improvised brooms, walls were washed and ceilings scratched. Then Fira lit several fires perfumed with rosemary, sage and rose wood, to burn the stink away. In the evening a hundred-metre long terrace and five deep caves were cleaned out and smelled inviting. ‘So far, so good,’ Fira said. The society returned to their camp, bathed, fished, ate, sang, danced and slept. Actual building started on the next day. Fira, Agu and Magla (the one with the pointed chin) were the members of the construction committee that defined the locations of the party cave, the various sleeping houses, children’s houses, love nests, depots, workshops, kitchens etc. They drew the plan in the sand and everybody applauded enthusiastically. ‘We need a name, before we begin construction,’ Duba declared. The society began to think about suggestions. ‘Bura-Bura?’ ‘Fasarama!’ ‘Magla-Tana,’ Agu exclaimed, ‘those two were here first.’ ‘Maglatana!’ everybody shouted, and work began immediately. The children cut twigs, young men and women fetched clay from the river shore in leather buckets, young trees were felled for beams, rafters and poles, suitable rocks for the hearths were collected. They secured the edge of the terrace with a thigh-high clay wall and a railing, to make it safe, especially for small children. Behind this they built a veranda, where you could sit in the sun or work. Then they installed the thinner partitions for the various rooms, all with doors and windows. They constructed beds and put in soft twigs and furs. In the centre of the installation, at the entrance of the largest cave, they built a circular room with a hearth and set comfortable deck chairs around it: the party room. They even built a smoke escape. And they put the Neanderthal skull into a niche. The children began to cover the walls with paintings using the red earth they had found near the river: rhinos, lions, canoes, horses, zigzag lines, hands and spirals. Yura, the she-eagle, had kept an eye on all these activities from far above and understood perfectly what was happening on the terraces to the south of her aerie. The idea to reinforce a nest with clay and twigs against wind and weather was convincing, but not applicable to her own home. How could she get up enough clay just with her beak? That would take years. Yura admired these featherless bipeds, their imagination and sense of initiative. She would get along with them. There was no conflict of interests. Yura was particularly fascinated by the drawings the children hat painted on the walls. Weren’t those spirals aerodynamic patterns of a deep symbolic significance? Hats off! For two weeks Kagurasifa was busy building Maglatana. As the weather stayed nice, they mostly slept down at the river, where they could fish and relax. Uko, the otter, was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. His wife had already left him to go back to her mother with the kids. The word divorce had been spoken. Uko himself had scheduled a meeting with beaver master Kero from the upper side valley C5. If he could take over the abandoned lodge there, maybe Ruva would come back. Finally the day of the grand opening came. The camp on the peninsula was moved. The canoes were stored in a safe place near the foot of the cliff, the baggage lifted to the terrace with a rope and a pulley. Then all of them assembled at the foot of the first ladder. It was Fira’s turn to make the speech. ‘Magla, Tana, Dako, Agu, Ukam, Paka, Tura, Lasa, Nika, Famo, Rika, Gaba, Deri, Rana, Iti, Setu, Mimo, Lota, Oro, Mea, Limo, Nete, Dona, Koto, Impo, Piga and Dero! Today Kagurasifa moves into Maglatana, our new winter home. Disease, death, cold, fear, hate and hunger - stay away! Health, love, warmth, plenty and happiness - be with us! Long live Magla- tana, long live Kagurasifa!’ The good wishes were repeated and underlined by long howls and cheers! Fira cut a garland made of flowers that was hanging across the sturdy ladder. Then they climbed up in the order of their names. The new home smelled of half-dried clay, aromatic herbs and rosemary fires. They took their personal belongings to the beds and then assembled again on the space in front of the party room, looking down to the valley together. Bison horns filled with honey beer, which Paka had started a week ago, were passed around. More toasts were made, the construction was praised, the local crows, the absent bear and the omnipresent lizards invoked. They lifted their horns together and had a first gulp. Then they sat on the benches and began to eat the grilled meat, the fish and a cold vegetable soup, that somebody called gaspako. Everyday life began in Maglatana. Fira had discovered cool and dry caves that could be used as food larders. Ukam was busy setting up his workshop for stone tools and hunting weapons, the best and biggest that had ever existed. Which meant ever. Paka was inventing new musical instruments and thinking about a library of knotted strings to collect all the old stories and reports before they were forgotten. Looking at the pictures, abstract figures and squiggles that the children had painted on the walls, another idea to store texts had suddenly hit him. But it seemed so daring to him, that he kept it to himself. First he wanted to solve the problem of suitable materials. Bark? Burned clay tablets? Kidskins? Lasa and Tura found an ideal cave for their pharmacy. There would be a permanent brewery, a menstruation cave, a leather workshop, a perfumery and a clinic. Piga, an exceptionally bright girl, approached Agu with some ideas. She had observed that the clay animals, that the children had made, became hard when left in the ambers of the hearth. Using clay, she had made a cup that looked much like the wooden cups they used. ‘Couldn’t we make them bigger, harden them in a fire and use them as buckets?’ she asked Agu. ‘And also,’ she continued, showing him a handful of grass grains, ‘plant these grains and have a ready supply of them every year, as we’re now staying here to gather them.’ ‘Clever girl,’ he said and smiled, ‘but let’s not rush it. Let’s first try our new semi-nomadic lifestyle for five thousand years. Then we’ll see, what happens next.’ ‘But next is a long time in the future,’ Piga protested. ‘Okay then,’ Agu said, ‘choose a suitable patch around here and plant your grains. But now it’s already too late. Do it next spring. And go ahead with your pots, if you must.’ ‘Pots?’ ‘Forget it,’ Agu sighed. On the plateau there was a lot of game: deer, horses, bisons, pigs and juicy geese. Hunting parties went up there and brought back provisions for the winter. Strips of meat were smoked and safely stored. Herbs and berries were gathered and dried. Fat was rendered and decanted into skins. Oils were made from nuts. Mushrooms with more or less interesting effects, dried. On the southern side they found a rivulet. They built a stone basin underneath so that they could get fresh water without having to go down to the river. They even built a contraption with hollow pieces of wood that Mea called showa. Kagurasifa had only occupied a small fraction of the terraces suitable for housing. They were planning to invite other societies to join them. Several hundred persons could live here together. Others were not so optimistic. Upa, the manifold rabbit mother, and Lilo, a proud father of many a squirrel, met by accident by a hollow tree trunk in a birch copse. ‘You know, mister Lilo,’ she chirped, ‘these humans here will ruin the ecological equilibrium of this whole valley. Overpopulation, overfishing, overexploitation of fauna and flora. That’s what will hit us. For tens of thousands of years they just passed through, making a terrible hullabaloo, but they left us unmolested for the rest of the year. Now suddenly they’re getting settled. Who knows why? They’re building artificial burrows, putting up ladders, they trample through our territories, and they set dogs on us. Most of us have already left. Or are dead.’ ‘I see,’ the squirrel said, ‘I understand your qualms. As for us, we operate on another level.’ ‘We’ ll never be successful, if everybody only thinks of his own interests.’ Paka, Tana and Mimo began to create big paintings on the ceiling and walls of the large party cave of Maglatana to remember its first inhabitants: a rhino (aka Magla), a squirrel (Tana), a ring snake (Dako), a bison (Agu), a horse (Ukam), a duck (Duba), etc. The children put clay statuettes of all the animals they encountered in niches. Sometimes they played with them. Dera put together clay discs and twigs and pulled them around with strings. Soon they had filled a ledge with a long procession of these kara’kara, as they called them. Agu frowned, when he observed them. One morning they were scared out of their beds by a loud roar from above. When they looked they saw the shaggy face of a young lion gazing down in frustration. They laughed at him - he roared again, but he couldn’t get down. Shit!
It is clear that the common is not logically antagonistic to capitalism. On the contrary, a necessary condition for the existence of capitalism is the presence of certain kinds of commons. Indeed, without the capacity of capitalists to call upon the mutual aid and class solidarity of other capitalists and to use the communal character of workers to their advantage, capitalism would not have been able survive the shock of class struggle over centuries. Indeed, if capitalism was not a common-pool resource system organized on some levels as common property, then it would never have been able to have become a self-reproducing system, even in the short run. - George Caffentzis It is almost a law of contemporary society that the more commons are attacked, the more they are celebrated. - Silvia FedericiFor three decades, George, Silvia and I have been friends and collaborators, occasionally publishing together and always open to conversation. I first met them one late summer’s day in 1989; my then PhD advisor, Harry Cleaver suggested I visit them in Brooklyn and so that’s what I did. Since then, on countless occasions - whether in formal meetings or personal encounters, or via email, Skype or phone - we have kept in dialogue, catching up with the latest personal and political news, fine tuning or harmonising our interpretations of the world. It is, without exaggeration, true that I would not have written my last two books without my ‘ask the philosopher’ emails to George. He helped me untangle many a theoretical knot and provided reassurance that I was moving in the right direction. Equally, I would not have written my last two books without engaging with the deep, passionate discussions of oppression, exploitation and injustice that Silvia brings to life when talking about the many different instances of the work of reproduction. As always, pointing to the crucial strategic weaknesses that make those relations possible, and true to form, always hinting at other possibilities, other movements, other worlds. So my debt to their friendship and their scholarship is beyond the measure that 6000 words could account for. As a humble gesture, in this essay I investigate three interrelated aspects of their work that were crucial for the architecture of my most recent work.[437] First, the groundbreaking issue by Midnight Notes on The New Enclosures helped develop my own thinking on the continuous character of enclosure - and its opposite, the formation of commons. Second, the possibility of omnia sunt communia (all things are held in common), sealed for me by George’s short but insightful critique of Elinor Ostrom and both George and Silvia’s clarity on anticapitalist commons. Third, the identification of reproduction commoning as the strategic site from which to envision a horizon of emancipation for all; this insight I owe to Silvia’s tireless focus on the many, often hidden, forms of reproduction work in contemporary capitalism. Before addressing these themes, what follows is a brief recollection on the state of anti-capitalist thought, prior to the radical conceptualisation of the commons. It is a short account of some earlier important moments involving George and Silvia that helped move forward our thinking towards understanding commons as systems; and a brief discussion of what is meant by commons as systems. *** Prolegomena to the Commons The radical utilisation of the concept of the ‘commons’ has only re-emerged recently. Before the Midnight Notes 1990 issue on enclosures,[438] the concept of the enclosures of the commons referred more narrowly to enclosures of common goods (land, forests, etc.) and the expulsion of communities who depended on those resources at the origin of capitalism. At times the analysis would be extended to more recent times of colonial invasion. The New Enclosures by Midnight Notes, transformed the enclosures into a contemporary problematic - an ongoing, conflicted and live issue. In a similar way, prior to Silvia’s numerous writings on the role of women in holding together, through the work of reproduction, the social networks in households, villages and communities, we could not really appreciate the role of reproduction as a cohesive force that held the community together visa-vis external forces. To indicate what we call today commons, radicals previously used terms as such as self-organisation, self-valorisation, community and autonomy. These are all important foundational features of current understanding of commons, whose systemic character include them all without exhausting them. Yet, a definition without references to the capitalist environment that seeks to enclose, or the problematic of social reproduction through which lives are reproduced through mutual aid networks of support that are the ultimate targets of those enclosures: these terms on their own are only bad abstractions, entities without a social force. Complexity is reduced to radical dogma. There are three early moments at which I was inspired by and with George and Silvia to start thinking about commons as systems. First, Silvia’s political recollections of the Wages for Housework period in New York were not only accounts of women’s self-organised political struggles, but also of mutual aid, of women’s communities in solidarity with each other, of community centres and communal kitchens. These stories reverberated with my own experiences of social centres and often temporary autonomous zones in 1970s Italy, although I knew she was talking about something more grounded. There were also some hints about what we today call commons in George’s and Silvia’s accounts of their time in Nigeria in the mid- to late-1980s. Looking back in 2010, George made this explicit. He recalled asking,
[W]here is the class struggle here? The answer that eventually came was a surprise to me: the commons still existed in Nigeria and made it possible for many who are outside of the waged labor market to have collective access to land and for many waged workers with ties to the village, common land to subsist when on strike. Much of the Nigerian class struggle I observed was a struggle against the police, the oil companies, and the army to prevent the enclosure of the agricultural village common land, forests and waters. In fact, increasingly I began to see Structural Adjustment and neoliberalism - both the theory and practice - as a direct attack on the remaining commons from pre-capitalist times and the new commons that were created by workers’ struggles (including our famous ‘social and economic rights’).[439]A second early moment that was significant for our commons thinking occurred in the mid-1990s, with the movement of the Zapatistas. Commons presented themselves with a specifically political character: commons ‘against and beyond capitalism’. I became closer to George at the Zapatista- organised encuentro - ‘for humanity and against neoliberalism’ - in Chiapas in 1996, along with other friends and comrades, including Harry Cleaver, John Holloway, Gustavo Esteva and Monty Neal. George, Silvia and Harry urged me to attend and, again, I am very grateful for their advice. Zapatista communities welcomed us to the Lacandon jungle, where they had built toilets, cabanas for us to sleep in, huts for discussions and seminars, and amazing amphitheatres: 4000 international guests hosted by indigenous communities, who monitored how we washed our plates and gave us an opportunity to cross ideological divides. Something magical resonated inside us. Neoliberal despair began to give way to a sense of hope. Alternatives and autonomy from capital and the state seemed a little more possible. Yet neither was completely absent: the Mexican army, for instance, was surrounding the forest where we were staying. Many more orthodox activists could not understand this duplicity: the simultaneous existence of an outside to capital in the jungle of Chiapas and capital’s army at the jungle’s boundary. But this coexistence of inside and outside capital - or in, against and beyond - became clearer when I travelled to Spain the following summer for the second encuentro. The final slogan, ‘one no, many yeses’, precisely evoked this duplicity and made it more complex: a common no against neoliberalism; and, at the same time, many heterogeneous, culturally-rooted and situated alternatives to articulate and to explore. Soon after, Midnight Notes published an issue with this very title,[440] confirming for me that my enthusiasm for the experiences of the encuentros had a political and theoretical resonance. I started then to think about commons, even if I hesitated to call them that way yet. The third moment was from the early 2000s. In public meetings, one point Silvia and George made always struck me: ‘The World Bank says there are x millions of people living on under $1 a day ... And yet they live, just think of how that is possible.’ Meaning there must be some form of social cooperation that is not accounted for by the monetary measure.[441] The question of social cooperation takes us to the question of systems. *** Commons as Social Systems How can we develop a framework that holds together different strands of thought from the social and political sciences, along with insights from George and Silvia? How can we integrate George’s discussions of the ‘deal’ or the work/energy crisis, say, along with Silvia’s emphasis on reproduction, into a coherent understanding of commons and social reproduction? How can we retain the centrality of labour and hence class struggle - so as to not throw the baby out with the dirty water - yet also articulate ideas from the science of complexity, cybernetics and general system theory? Just as for Marx the commodity is the cell form of the capitalist mode of production, so the common good is the cell form of post-capitalist wealth, wealth-in-common, shared wealth.[442] Yet this formulation does not tell us anything about how we share, nor how we produce and reproduce what needs to be shared in different contexts. These questions can be posed within a framework of the commons as social systems. Commons are social systems comprised of two sets of elements. First, the material and immaterial elements that constitute commons-wealth, what is shared; and second, the social relations among the people within these commons communities, the rules and norms, both formal and informal, they use to coordinate their actions and their social relations. These two fundamental elements are brought together and (re)produced through the activity of commoning, of doing in common. Commoning, a term uncovered by another member of the Midnight Notes milieu, historian Peter Linebough, is the life and creative energy of the commons.[443] Through specific forms of commoning, communities not only reproduce the means of their reproduction - their common wealth - they also reproduce particular relational values, or value practices.[444] According to this perspective of commons as systems, commoning not only produces and reproduces commons, it also multiplies commons values - a commons subjectivity, opposite from and antagonist to the individual capitalist subject known as Homo economicus. Commons are not constrained by the ‘bottom line’ of capitalist value; rather their dynamic architecture is choreographed, structured and organised by multiple values that allow both individual freedom and coordination. The importance of conceptualising commons as social systems is twofold. First, it allows us to identify what is internally generated by a self-organised group of people, a community of commoners, working with shared resources through common valuing processes. Thus conceptualising commons as social systems allows us identify and situate the meaning of autonomy. It also allows us to understand autopoiesis, the fact that com- moning communities not only produce their own internal relations, but also the material and immaterial components that are necessary for their own (re)production. And it is also only by understanding commons as systems, that we can identify the circuit of commons value production, in turn making intelligible the concept of self-valourisation. Second, by understanding commons as systems, we can postulate specific environments in which they are located and with which they interact. Indeed, in systems theory, a system is by definition a system-environment unit. The types of relations between commons systems and their environments are of a primary political importance. These relations determine the potential both for recomposition, collaboration and the scaling-up of commons and commoning; but also the threat of enclosure and cooption by the powers of capital and the state, for - as George and Silvia have tirelessly pointed out - state and capital systems are ever-present in the environment of the commons. Thus, our contemporary understanding of (anti-capitalist) commons is rooted in (class) struggle - against capital and against the state. *** In the Environment of the Commons: the Enclosing and Coopting Force of Capital and the State The New Enclosures appeared in 1990. What the ****?!, my Marxist background screamed at me: all the classical Marxists I had read until then clearly defined primitive or original accumulation as a distinct and distant phase of capitalism, events that occurred before the beginning of accumulation ‘proper’. Two pieces in that that issue of Midnight Notes, one credited to the collective as whole, to which George had made a substantial contribution, and one by Silvia, claimed that neoliberalism represented a new wave of enclosures, of ‘original’ accumulation. (And this was more than a decade before David Harvey began talking about neoliberalism as ‘accumulation by dispossession’, an improper term really, since also ‘normal’ accumulation is based on dispossession of workers’ time.) In the following months and years, I started to reread Capital with this new obsession in mind, to see with my own eyes how Silvia and George’s take on enclosures and primitive accumulation could open a new way to interpret Marx. In 2001, I published on this in The Commoner, a web journal I founded and to which George and Silvia have contributed several times in one way or another.[445] A few years later, I published a second piece, in Historical Materialism, in which I outlined a typology of modern neoliberal enclosures: of land and natural resources; social enclosures such as cuts in services that transferred the cost of reproduction to families and communities; of urban design.[446] Adopting this neoliberalism=new enclosures interpretation, I developed a framework that suggested that ‘original accumulation’ is continuous in capitalism. This means that enclosures are a central aspect of capitalist development. They are especially important in determinate crisis states, when capital needs to lay the basis for a new round of ‘proper’ accumulation (where ‘accumulation proper’ refers to the exploitation of labour and its associated ‘logics’). But - a point made by George and Silvia - enclosures means the expropriation of resources used by communities to reproduce themselves independently of capital - and this often happens in moments in which capital needs to decompose working-class composition, to reduce class power and to shift the costs of social reproduction back onto the working class, thus boosting profits and initiating a new round of accumulation. Looking back, we suffered so many enclosures through the 1990s - to name just a few: IMF structural adjustment programmes; land grabs; environmental ‘externalities’; attacks on ‘welfare’; introduction of university tuition fees; and so on and on and on... The articles assembled in The New Enclosures were foundational in giving us the tools to appreciate not only this dark side of neoliberal capital, but also to hint at its mirror image. Since there could be no enclosures without something to enclose, Midnight Notes postulated the continuing presence of commons. The dark side of capitalism includes a dark side to commons, and in several pieces George and Silvia have explored ways in which capital seeks to co-opt commons as part of its wider strategy. For example, in a 2013 article they remind us how the World Bank and United Nations strategise about ‘soft privatisation’: For years, part of the capitalist international establishment has been promoting a softer model of privatization, appealing to the principle of the commons as a remedy to the neo-liberal attempt to submit all economic relations to the dictate of the market. It is realized that, carried to an extreme, the logic of the market becomes counterproductive even from the viewpoint of capital accumulation, precluding the cooperation necessary for an efficient system of production.[447] For George and Silvia, one type of commons stands against capitalist enclosures and the cooptation of commons. This is the only type of commons that matters politically, the type of commons that must be constructed, nurtured and linked to others: the anti-capitalist and beyond-capitalist commons. They provide two interrelated arguments to support this political assertion. First, George assuages any doubts regarding the technical possibility of communalisation of any resource (it is only a question of politics and balance of forces). And second, Silvia offers us a strategic point from which to build a strategy of transformation: reproduction. I will discuss these, in turn, in the next two sections. *** The Theoretical Roots of ‘All in Common’ Radical thinking was taken by surprise, and some degree of enthusiasm, by the awarding, in 2009, of the Nobel Memorial Prize in Economics to Elinor Ostrom, for her life-time work on the commons. Was a section of the establishment pushing its case to make the cooption of commons central to neoliberal strategy in the context of the ‘Great Recession’? After all, Ostrom postulated the pacific coexistence of commons, capital and the state; the public choice regarding which to favour depended on their ‘effectiveness’ in different contexts. Or was this award the symptom of something else, of the beginning of a paradigmatic change in the way capitalism would be managed, the opening of Keynesian deals for the twenty-first century? But deal with whom - and how? While I was wrestling with these possibilities, George sent me a paper, to be published in The Commoner.[448] ‘A tale of two conferences’ included a very simple and effective critique of Ostrom’s understanding of commons purely as ‘common-pool resources’ and this, in turn, put me on the path of thinking commons as social systems no matter the resources that are pooled: a theoretical point reverberating with the political principle of omnia sunt communia, all in common. In Ostrom’s understanding, ‘[t]he term “common-pool resource” refers to a natural or man-made resource system that is sufficiently large as to make it costly (but not impossible) to exclude potential beneficiaries from obtaining benefits from its use ... Examples of resource systems include fishing grounds, groundwater basis, grazing areas, irrigation canals, bridges, parking garages, mainframe computers, and streams, lakes, oceans, and other bodies of water’.[449] George’s conceptual critique is simple. If we look at the history of common property regimes it becomes obvious that ‘many have been based on non-common-pool resources . On the basis of the history of common property regimes, it is difficult to decide what types of goods are “conducive” to private property and what kinds of goods are “conducive” to common property’.[450] Indeed there are myriad examples, both historical and contemporary, in which communities communalise resource units into a ‘common pot’ and then establish rules or customs for its appropriation. A social centre or neighbourhood association might have a library (resource system) containing books (resource units) brought by the project’s various participants. Or it might be tools that are pooled. Fab labs (fabrication laboratories) and communal kitchens operate on the same principle. Friends and family members frequently communalise food items on a shared picnic blanket. In cyberspace P2P (peer-to-peer) production systems, in which individual software developers, with their own computer hardware and their own labour time, contribute to the development of a program, or else build the platform through which P2P file sharing occurs, thus communalising the files for all. Pooling money to buy needed stuff - whether pooling among friends or fundraising from strangers - is another form of aggregating resource units and turning the aggregation into a common pool. Every ‘resource unit’, or what economists call ‘private goods’, could in principle be communalised, if it is sensible to do so. Even children can be ‘communalised’, as when they live in a ‘community’ with ‘many eyes’: each child’s autonomy and security is enhanced whilst adults’reproduction work is minimised. We thus have two cases - resource systems and the pooling of resource units - which between them seem to cover all the types of commonwealth needed to commons. It is also worth noting that a resource system might be ‘natural’ (a source of fresh water, say) or ‘manmade’ (such as road infrastructure). Moreover, from an analytical point of view, there is no difference whether such systems were initially constructed by commoners or were instead reclaimed or appropriated from capital - one example is what George, in work on the oil industry, has called the ‘hydrocarbons commons’. One part of George’s critique of Ostrom thus categorically opens up commons to a much wider horizon of activities. My approach has built on this. I have also taken on board another part of his critique of Ostrom. This involves shifting our focus from a commons’ internal mechanisms to its relationship vis-a-vis its own environment, especially vis-a-vis state and capital systems. He draws a distinction between the approach of Ostrom and her associates and that of Marxists and radicals?[451] In George’s words, while Ostrom and her associates ‘look to endogenous variables ... to determine why one property regime changes into another’, Marxists and radicals emphasise that there are no logical reasons why a social centre, a village commune or an indigenous community that has been managing a common pool resource, sometimes for generations, ‘suddenly breaks down even though the logic of the coordination problem had been more or less solved’. While the former ‘look to changes in the characteristics of the resource (e.g. whether its value on the Market or the cost of excluding non-commoners has increased) or in the characteristics of the commoners (e.g. the number of commoners has increased) for an explanation of the breakdown’, .the anti-capitalist supporters of the commons . look to the larger class context to determine the dynamics of ‘the drama of the commons.’ For it is only by determining the class relations and forces within a particular region and stage in capitalist development that will ultimately determine the existence or annihilation of a common-property regime . For the particular regime that manages a common-pool resource will be determined, e.g. by the labor needs of the dominant capitalist class in the region and by the commoners’ solidarity and political-military power to resist the inevitable force that the desirous capitalists deploy.[452] Such a political reading of context is, for George, essential in assessing the sustainability of commons. He of course sides with, .the anti-capitalist supporters of the commons [who] see the struggle for a commons as an important part of a larger rejection of neoliberal globalising capitalism since it is the commons in the indigenous areas, in the global sense, and in the area of collective intellectual production that is now threatened with enclosure by a capitalism bent on commodifying the planet, its elements, its past and future. Their key issues are how to bring together various aspects of the struggle against commodification and create ‘another world’ satisfying the needs of global justice.[453] So we have a tension, between an interpretation of commons as endogenous social systems, on the one hand, and commons as systems influenced by external social forces, on the other. In the first case, the ability of a commons to sustain itself depends on its management principles, even if we are talking about self-management. In the second, this ability depends on power relations vis-a-vis capital (and the state), whether attempting to enclose (and thus destroy) or to co-opt (sucking surplus value by using commons as a way to suppress social wages). George’s scholarship has helped me enormously in confirming my view of the necessity of framing commons as social systems. He is right to draw attention to commons’ socio-political context and to see this strategically, as a field of possibilities (where these possibilities could run in favour of state and capital). Yet Ostrom’s arguments should not be neglected. In many cases, even in anti-capitalist milieu, commons have been destroyed not through enclosure or cooptation, but due to a deficit of immaterial resources - insufficient coordination skills, a fall in trust, burn-outs, diminished purpose, excessive free-riding, an inability to adapt effectively to a new context. (I have several personal experiences of commons that include one or more of these.) How to work together? How to create a system that is resilient and (re)producible, within a deep democratic structure and with a moderate degree of openness? These are complex issues! In many urban areas, especially in the global North, the culture necessary to sustain communities needs to be recreated anew. Commoning needs to be learned and relearned. These matters are internal to the commons, yet they are as political as the ones posited by George. Healing subjectivities from detritus left by capital, dealing with the fear of the other, the xenophobia, racism and sexism embedded in many languages and subcultures ... these are important organisational and political matters. But once we understand commons as social systems, we realise that tensions between commons’ endogenous and exogenous forces is a tension that necessitates productive articulation rather than only categorical differentiation and contraposition. Social systems are constituted not only by their internal relations, but also by their relations to their environment. Hence the sustainability of the system is affected by the conditions of both internal and external relations: political recomposition of the commons happens when commoners can create a movement to collectively define their own environment and to limit capital’s presence, pushing back capital and thus expanding the commons sphere. But a precondition of this, is that commons can be, and indeed are, created in whatever context - George’s first insight. *** The Strategic Horizon of Reproduction While George alerts us to the mechanisms of state and capital in the environment of the commons, Silvia helps us to define a horizon of transformation, pinpoint a strategic direction and identify a transformative force: not just commoning, but reproduction commoning. Let us explore this in more detail. For Silvia, the question of reproduction and reproductive labour goes back to the 1970s and her participation in New York’s Wages for Housework campaign. That campaign anticipated contemporary radical demands for citizens’ income, which in today’s condition of generalised precarity, generalise also the claim for a social wage in exchange for our unwaged work in many spheres of life. In more recent work, Silvia locates reproduction as the primary site of social transformation through a critique of discourses on ‘the common’ upon which the demand for a citizen’s income is often founded.[454] The principle of ‘the common’, according to a post-workerist strand of autonomist Marxism, is based on the idea that production and reproduction work are blurred in contemporary capitalism, thanks to the growth of ‘immaterial’ and ‘affective’ labour: informalisation, automation and knowledge work, for instance, produce a form of social cooperation that creates a common space with no hard boundaries of inclusion and exclusion. Such immaterial labour produces ‘states of beings’ and ‘affects’ which are therefore no longer the prerogative of reproduction labour. This means the development of the common is an immanent prerogative of contemporary capitalist system; the task of the ‘multitude’ is simply to prevent capital from capturing wealth from it. According to Silvia, this strand replicates Marx’s own blind spots on both women’s unwaged reproductive labour and workers’ self-activity that has, throughout capitalism’s history, created institutions to limit capital’s encroachment into their lives. The idea that capitalism is now grounded on immaterial and affective labour is myopic in two respects. First, it fails to see the ecological and social costs capital imposes in extracting the material resources (mining, energy and so on) necessary to sustain ‘immaterial labour’. Second, it is inattentive to the bare materiality and emotional side of reproduction work, irreplaceable by technology, often unwaged or low- waged and executed in increasing isolation - for instance, by migrant mothers forced to leave behind their own children to be cared for by grandmothers or aunts. Commoning for reproduction becomes here the key feminist insight we must treasure in a new politics, a politics that is developed by taking insights from women’s reproduction struggles around the world and for whom the commons are a context of emancipation. First, Silvia identifies reproduction commoning as the process through which collective interest and mutual bonds are generated, a process internal to reproduction commons. Second, reproduction commoning is the first line of resistance against a life of enslavement, wherever this life is located in a patriarchal household, an army, a factory or a brothel. Third, it is a way to delink reproduction from capital’s measure of things, from its values, from its line of command. Fourth, by delinking from capital, commoning also facilitates a decoupling from its systems of violence, the prison, the war machine, the custom office, upon which the capitalist market depends. And finally, through reproduction commoning we turn the abstract conception of solidarity into a living collective body, which develops its resilience vis-a-vis capital, better able to endure capital’s myriad attacks. In her path-breaking book Caliban and the Witch, Silvia demonstrates how the waves of witch-hunting in Europe and Latin America in the early modern period was an attack on the organic networks of community reproduction created by women and sustained by commoning. An insistence on the importance of organic support networks is a common theme in much of Silvia’s writing and today women remain at the forefront of many such networks: communal gardens that spring up in derelict urban spaces; movements that reclaim houses from foreclosing banks (as in Barcelona); communal kitchens (as in numerous parts of Latin America throughout the last three decades). But her work always embeds a crucial tension. On one side are women’s collective energies mobilised to the benefit of their communities (communal clinics, creches and kitchens); on the other is an alertness towards the criminality of capital’s strategies of enclosures and cooptation (so-called microcredit, for example, where lenders destroy women’s cohesion by setting one against the other in the servicing of loans with huge interest rates). But in the end - to return to a point made near the beginning - if there are enclosures, there must be commons to enclose. In her embrace of both the internal dynamics of reproduction commoning and the struggles against capital in the environment of the commons, Silvia, like George, helped me not only to understand commons as social systems, but also to locate reproduction as the strategic site from which to build and sustain power. The overall point of reproduction commoning is worth repeating. Silvia provides us with the political ground on which to base our strategies of emancipation from capital. The strategy of reproduction commoning has the potential to produce (and reproduce) relational values that are alternative to the ones synthesised in capital’s bottom line of profit maximisation and cost externalisation onto waged and unwaged labour. And as our bodies also exist in relation to ecological systems, reproduction commoning as strategy also responds collectively to the entire matrix of bio-costs imposed by capital on our real bodies and ecological systems.
There is a crucial difference between the common and the public as the latter is managed by the state and is not controlled by us ... for the sake of the struggle for anti-capitalist commons it is crucial that we do not lose sight of the distinction.[460]In addition, the government is articulating a rights framework (for instance, Law 071 of the Plurinational State is Ley de Derechos de la Madre Tierra — Law of the Rights of Mother Earth) in which the right to water is bound up with and dependent on the state. The people of Cochabamba did not fight to save the water for capitalism. This is not what we fought for; we are struggling to build a water commons. Over the past decade we have seen great strides and successful uprisings, from the gas and water wars to the movements of indigenous communities. We have also seen counter movements - conservative, liberal, and even those claiming the mantle of communism - try to reclaim our words and our deeds and use them to maintain, rebuild, and expand the state. In the Water Wars we united around the idea of the defense of water and life, we declared that the water was ours, and by this we meant the people’s, to be held in common. Now the state asserts its ‘public’ identity and claims that it will develop structures to create, regulate, and resolve every aspect of our social life. We can also observe this attempt to control the frame of the possible by controlling the language in the debate over the various ways the struggles of indigenous people are being reinterpreted. In Bolivia, as throughout South America, indigenous peoples have raised challenging questions that go the heart of the nation-state. In Bolivia the new constitution attempted to resolve these questions by proclaiming itself a ‘plurinational’ state. This solution raised new questions of autonomy which have since been co-opted by both the state (supposedly leftwing) and the private sector (rightwing). For Morales, Garcia Linera, and the MAS (their party, the Movement Toward Socialism), the main concern is to develop legal structures that defines who belongs to an indigenous ‘nation’ and then legislate its position within the plurinational state. The right has seized on the question of autonomy and seeks to use it as a weapon against the more progressive elements of the MAS platform by supporting indigenous autonomy in order to declare their own autonomy, with the ultimate goal of opting out of contributing to the general social welfare. In other words, none of these intentions actually seek to weaken the coercive aspect of the state or capitalism. *** A Place of Social Reproduction A politics which sees only what can be codified in law or commodified in the market cannot recognise the commons and renders invisible much of the labour of social reproduction. This historical erasure helps create the conditions under which seven out of ten women in Bolivia have suffered some type of violence and denies the value of the ongoing and everyday work - performed by women for the most part - needed to reproduce our common world. In the Water Wars, recovering traditional structures for managing water for agriculture was important, but no less so than the battle for control over domestic water use. The privatisation of water directly impeded the ability of people - primarily women - to maintain their family’s lives. As Silvia so often does, we seek to make visible how water privatisation affects the labour of social reproduction. We see how women previously had been able to use water domestically to grow food in small garden plots to feed their family and neighbours; in food preparation; in cleaning; and in other ways that maintained the household and allowed for social reproduction. Women were now confronted with a situation where they had to purchase the water as a commodity. The impact of the privatisation through the increase in water bills - powerfully marked by the public burning of the bills - was registered in its relationship to the wage, but as is so often the case its impact on the unwaged, sustenance work of women remained invisible. The seizure of ‘even the rain’ attacked precisely the domestic use of water and it was the resistance to this that spurred many women, who in turn inspired their partners, to resist the privatisation. The economic aspect of the privatisation was devastating, but equally, if not more, important was the under-recognised impact on the collective work of social reproduction. During the months when Bechtel operated in Cochabamba many women could no longer share household duties with their neighbours because of decreased access to water. But while this acted to isolate the women, they were still able to access these existing support networks as they organised against Bechtel. Women make up more than fifty per cent of the population in Cochabamba and they - not just urban women, but also those from the countryside - were hugely active in the mobilisations during the Water War. The resistance to privatisation required everyone’s participation and organisational work, but because of women’s central relationship to water and their role in the reproduction of daily life, the construction of a solid movement was only possible with women’s participation. In fact, when leaders of ‘la Coordinadora’ sought to hide from the soldiers in a convent the nuns asked, ‘Where is La Coordinadora? She must be a brave woman.’ This misrecognition went from being a funny story to an established truth. *** Conclusion The work of Silvia and George in exploring, explaining, and expanding our understanding of the commons has helped us to clarify the practices of resistance in Bolivia outside, against, and in parallel to the state. At the same time, our experience helps to show that the commons is not an ideal to achieve, but a daily practice of communities whose defense and enlargement is, socially and politically, in constant tension with state and other structures of power. It is thanks to Silvia and George’s contribution that we can better analyse and communicate, not only the structure of the conflict in the Water War of Cochabamba, but also, its stakes: that it took place not only to protect water but to create, produce, and generate new and different ways to recuperate and expand the commons and to exercise our power to take decisions over our lives. Their work has reinforced our understanding that many of the recent efforts towards liberation have been recuperated by the state and has shown that we are not alone in this situation. The language that emerged from our struggles is being seized by people in power on both the right and left in an attempt to rebuild and strengthen their political positions and institutions. A right-based discourse implies ownership (a person or country ‘has’ a right to control such and such to the exclusion of others), and assumes isolated entities in conflict. This makes invisible precisely the kind of labour we are highlighting here, whereas commoning helps us picture the ongoing and everyday work needed to reproduce a shared social sphere. By insisting on making visible the labour of social reproduction, we are better able to see the damage levied by the privatisation of water. As we reflect on the place of the commons in Bolivia we realise that although commoning may not be something we frequently say, it certainly is something that we do. [455] In Silvia Federici, Revolution at Point Zero: Housework, Reproduction, and Feminist Struggle (Oakland, CA: Common Notions/PM Press, 2012) p. 139. [456] Midnight Notes Collective, ‘Introduction’ to One No, Many Yeses (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 1998). [457] George Caffentzis and Silvia Federici, ‘Commons against and beyond capitalism’, Community Development Journal 49(81), (January 2014), pp. i92-iio5. First published in Upping the Anti, 15 (2013). [458] Ibid., p. i102. [459] Ibid., p. i102. [460] [Footnote missing] ** 17. A Bicycling Commons: A Saga of Autonomy, Imagination and Enclosure Chris Carlsson
Commons are not given, they are produced. Although we say that commons are all around us - the air we breathe and the languages we use being key examples of shared wealth - it is only through cooperation in the production of our life that we can create them. This is because commons are not essentially material things but are social relations, constitutive social practices... Exclusive reliance on ‘immaterial’ commons, like the internet, will not do. Water systems, lands, forests, beaches, as well as various forms of urban space, are indispensable to our survival. Here too what counts is the collective nature of the reproductive work and the means of reproduction involved. - George Caffentzis and Silvia Federici[461]A Bicycling Commons is a curious concept. Rather than referring to a specific land or landscape, it refers to a shared state of mind and a shared set of experiences. What animates the notion of a Bicycling Commons is that so many people who have chosen to bicycle in cities feel they are a part of it. How does this relate to actual political projects to reclaim and reopen commons? When did the Bike Commons emerge? From where? What kinds of political antecedents helped shape this sensibility? And is it an ongoing reality or is it best understood as a passing phenomenon of a very particular transitional period between the twentieth and twenty-first centuries? The quickest and easiest starting point is Critical Mass, the mass bike ride that began in San Francisco and within a few years had erupted in cities across the planet. Paradoxically, Critical Mass stimulated the rapid expansion of bicycling in hundreds of cities worldwide, but I would argue that the bicycle is an incidental - or accidental - facilitator of an urgent need to address a wide range of issues. At one time or another in our lives, most cyclists came to identify bicycling as a way individually to embrace social change. Perhaps we concluded it was the key to unravelling the dangerous traffic nightmare plaguing most of the world’s cities, or to reclaiming a more convivial public space from the domination of private cars. Or we connected bicycling to a refusal to participate in oil wars; or a refusal to accept the mountain of debt associated with car and oil dependency; or a refusal of the massive pollution by fossil fuels that is wreaking havoc with the world’s climate. For most of the bicycling commoners riding through urban space nowadays, it began in childhood. As children we quickly discovered that bicycling unlocked nearby streets and neighbourhoods, and eventually entire cities. Personal mobility, a freedom to move independently through space, is an intoxicating pleasure and is a right of all humans - or should be. This freedom of mobility has been thoroughly colonised by the marketing engineers of the automobile industry for more than 100 years. Bicycling’s history stretches back to the late nineteenth century. Bicycling, after a boom in the 1890s, was overrun by automobility in the early twentieth century, but not before nineteenth-century bicyclists had led the charge for good roads covered in asphalt. As cars came to dominate personal transportation, displacing walking, bicycling and streetcars, streets were widened and reorganised to accommodate faster speeds and more parking. Bicycling was redefined as a child’s first vehicle on their way to a mature embrace of the car in adulthood. Most people across the planet have been convinced to accept this, or at least they were until about a generation ago. Starting in 1992 in San Francisco, Critical Mass emerged as a monthly ‘organised coincidence’ in which first dozens, then hundreds, and eventually thousands of bicyclists took to the streets to ‘ride home together’. While cars clogging streets in endless daily traffic jams are treated as inevitable and natural, part of the unavoidable ‘weather’ of city life, dense masses of bicyclists are anomalous, some kind of strange unnatural aberration, an unexpected emergence of rebellious creativity. Though Critical Mass riders always insisted, We aren’t blocking traffic, we ARE traffic!, most participants, bystanders and motorists understood that this was something more than mere traffic. I dubbed it a Defiant Celebration.[462] We discovered that by bicycling together in a celebratory mass seizure of the roads we were cracking open the closed public space of city streets, reclaiming it from the decades-long enclosure of our thoroughfares by the forces of ‘motordom’ and their successful marginalisation of other transit options. We also opened a self-governed space free of commerce, where coming together in conversation and shared activity was a natural experience not requiring permission, licenses or the purchase of products. These experiences helped shape the imaginations of countless thousands. This, in turn, defined the surge of bicycling as participation in the creation of a new kind of commons, explicitly against the aforementioned enclosure of public space ensured by urban design, motordom and bureaucratic inertia. And, almost by accident, the mobile open space attracted yet more new participants who, once having entered this unexpected social experience, experienced directly the new Bicycle Commons. By extension, the long-lost awareness that the city’s public byways had been conquered and ‘enclosed’ by the industries that together comprised ‘motordom’ was suddenly made apparent.
[I]n North America, the reclamation and commoning of the means of reproduction must necessarily take different forms. But here too, by pooling our resources and re-appropriating the wealth that we have produced, we can begin to de-link our reproduction from the commodity flows that, through the world market, are responsible for the dispossession of millions across the world. We can begin to disentangle our livelihood not only from the world market but also from the war machine and prison system on which the US economy now depends... Indeed, if commoning has any meaning, it must be the production of ourselves as a common subject.[463]As the original commons was open to all, Critical Mass opened itself to anyone to join, too. As long as you had a bike to ride, you didn’t have to buy anything to participate in Critical Mass, neither object nor service, nor an ideology beyond a desire to partake in public life on two wheels. When hundreds and thousands of cyclists seized the streets for a convivial and celebratory use of public space, many of the expectations and rules of modern capitalist society were challenged, at least implicitly. Individual behaviours escaped the logic of buying and selling, if only for a few hours. Once in the street together, unexpected connections emerged, unplanned events occurred, and serendipitous relationships began. Unlike a trip to the mall or the market, the conversations were unburdened by the logic of transactions, of prices and measurements. It was a free exchange among free people. The experience altered one’s sense of city life immediately, and more importantly, shifted collective imaginations in ways we only began to grasp. Critical Mass cyclists, during the event’s golden era (the first five years in most cities),[464] found themselves practitioners of a new kind of social conflict. The ‘assertive desertion’ embodied in bicycling challenged the system of social exploitation organised through private car ownership and the oil industry. And by cycling in urban centers in the Empire, Critical Massers embraced a growing movement around the world that repudiated the social and economic models controlled by multinational capital and modes of life that had been imposed without any form of democratic consent. This mass seizure of the streets by a swarming mob of bicyclists ‘without leaders’ was precisely the kind of self-directing, networking logic that has been transforming our economic lives and threatening the structure of government, business, and (as more imaginative military strategists were coming to understand) policing and war-making too. In an essay called ‘Bicycling Over the Rainbow: Redesigning Cities and Beyond’ (September 1995) that was first distributed as a xerocracy flyer at a San Francisco Critical Mass in September 1995 I wrote:
We conceived Critical Mass to be a new kind of political space, not about protesting but about celebrating our vision of preferable alternatives, most obviously in this case bicycling over the car culture. Importantly we wanted to build on the strong roots of humor, disdain for authority, decentralization, and self-direction that characterize our local political cultural history. Critical Mass descends from the anti-nuke movement as much as it does from the bicycling initiatives of the past. It is as much street theater as it is a (semi) functional commute, or at least it has been at its best. It is inherently anticorporate even though there are more uncritical supporters of the American Empire and its monied interests riding along than there are blazing subversives, which is just another of the many pleasant ironies of CM. The bicycle itself embodies the counter-technological tradition that is the flipside of America’s infatuation with technological fixes. Like the pro-solar movement in the 1970s, today’s bike advocates tend to view the bicycle as something that is inherently superior, that brings about social changes all by itself, endowing it with causal qualities that ought to be reserved for human beings. I am a daily bike commuter, have been for most of the past 20 years, and am very fond of bicycling in cities. I greatly appreciate the bicycle for its functionality in short-circuiting dominant social relations, but let’s not forget that it is merely another tool, and has no will of its own. When I bicycle around town I see things happening and can stop and explore them in depth with no hassles. I also see my friends and acquaintances and can stop and speak with them directly. This, combined with the absence of mass media pumping into my brain in the isolation of my car, sets up organic links and direct channels of human experience and communication. These links are potentially quite subversive to the dominant way of life in modern America, which is one of the reasons I like bicycling. But bicycling is not an end in itself, just like CM is really about a lot more than just bicycling. Our embrace of bicycling doesn’t eliminate an enormous social edifice dedicated to supporting the privately-owned car and oil industries. Similarly, the infrastructural design of our cities and communities is slow to change in the face of our preferential choice of bicycling. Finally, we won’t see any real change if we continue to act as isolated consumer/commuters, and in part CM allows us to begin coming together. But CM is far from enough, and until we begin challenging a whole range of technological choices at their roots, our lives and the planetary ecology are likely to continue worsening. Our capitalist society doesn’t really care what we buy or which toys we like to play with, as long as we keep working within a system that systematically excludes us from decisions about the shape of our lives or the technologies we must choose. The space we’ve opened up in CM is a good beginning. Out of it must grow the organic communities that can envision and then fight for a radically different organization of life itself. We will never shop our way to a liberated society. So questions of utopia lurk beneath the CM experience. What kind of life would you like to live, if you could choose? What of all the work that this society imposes on us, is work worth doing? What kind of technologies do we need? What direction do we want science to go (e.g. do we want to dedicate millions to military ‘defense’ and a space program, or shall science address the basic research associated with redesigning cities, transit and energy systems, etc.)? Why do we live in a ‘democracy’ in which serious questions such as these are never discussed, and if they are, only in remote academic journals and around the occasional kitchen table? Why is politics primarily a detached and meaningless ritual of popularity and money?[465]This essay was translated several times and quickly spread to dozens of other rides in other cities. These kinds of ideas were enthusiastically embraced from Brazil to Italy, though a Bicycle Commons did not prove strong enough to radically alter the dominant culture’s priorities. Nevertheless, bicycling has returned to the world’s cities in a way no one could have predicted. By 1994 there were many Critical Masses, but even more interesting was that so many people were starting bicycling clubs, bike kitchens, bike ballet groups, bike circuses, midnight rides, bike cafes, and producing an endless stream of zines, hats, stickers, posters, buttons, and a remarkable profusion of bike-related creative expressions. Picking up enthusiasm from a wide swath of the population, literally hundreds of thousands of people are now bicycling every day instead of driving in cars. This is an amazing outcome of a slowly snowballing collective decision to change life that started small in one place, then spread to other places, and eventually led to millions of people in hundreds of the world’s cities changing their everyday behaviour. This surprising turn to bicycling as transportation has been both a successful fruit of the Bicycling Commons experience, and paradoxically, has also been a sign of the rapid decline of the Bicycling Commons. As more and more people choose to bicycle as everyday transportation, fewer experience the euphoria and transformative experience that was once transmitted through the Critical Mass experience. Prior to mass adoption of daily cycling, it was easy to feel connected to other cyclists in various urban environments, as one shared the sense of being a hardy minority, soldiering on in the difficult choice to cycle through social and infrastructural hostility and obstruction. The bicycling culture that gave rise to the sense of a Bicycling Commons started to disintegrate precisely as more and more people were choosing to bicycle as their everyday transportation. As I write in 2017, bicycle culture - and especially the solidarity that bound cyclists together - has practically disappeared (at least in San Francisco). Curiously, the original pre-Critical Mass bicycling advocates of the late 1980s were largely middle-aged white men who fully embraced the arguments of a Stanford engineering professor named John Forrester, articulated in his book Effective Cycling. The main argument of this book was that to be ‘effective’ a person needed to ride 10,000 hours to gain the proper experience to be able to ride on city streets fully integrated with motorised traffic. The goal was to make cyclists equal users of the road by having them emulate as closely possible automobiles. In 1994, when Critical Mass was reaching its most dynamic period and thousands of riders were beginning to appear at the monthly rides, San Francisco traffic planners held a public meeting to discuss the Comprehensive Bike Plan that they were starting to work on at the time. While many argued for separate bikeways of the type that is common in Denmark, Holland and Germany, a group of the cleats-and-helmets-with-clip-on- mirrors crowd, all in bright yellow riding clothes (the ‘semi-professional’ bicyclists that had made up the bulk of advocates during the prior very quiet decade) showed up to denounce any effort to create dedicated bike lanes. Echoing the arrogance of John Forrester’s engineering studies, they insisted that anyone in favour of the European model was ignorant, and that the ‘proven’ solution was the ‘effective cycling’ programme, which would facilitate cyclists raising their proficiency and speed so they could successfully behave like ‘normal traffic’ on ‘normal streets’. They insisted that the car-dominated streets of the late twentieth century United States were inalterable and permanent, and that any effort to reclaim streets from cars or redesign thoroughfares was just pointless. This public conflict delayed planning and implementation of bicycle infrastructure improvements for many years (including a three-year hiatus over a lawsuit that stopped all bike improvements). Nowadays, San Francisco has a number of separated bikeways on major thoroughfares, and many more planned. The pace of implementation has been glacially slow, but a quarter century after the first surge of demand for bicycling space emerged, it’s beginning to show up in dozens of cities around the world that previously had nothing for bicycles (from Sao Paulo, Brazil to Mexico City, to Milan, Italy and Paris, France, not to mention New York, San Francisco, Chicago, and dozens of US cities). During this period of history, roughly 1990-2025, the world is transitioning from the twentieth-century commitment to automobiles to a multi-modal approach to urban transportation that foregrounds bicycling and walking, supplemented by public transit. To be sure there are still strong political and economic forces putting up major resistance to this transition, especially given the central role of the automobile and oil industries in most industrialised economies. But literally millions of citizens across the world are ‘voting’ on this directly by getting on bicycles and changing their daily behaviour. This didn’t erupt from a bureaucrat’s on-high policy decision, but rather from an urgent need by people in cities everywhere to address the ridiculous irrationality of endless traffic congestion, horrible air pollution, catastrophic collisions, neighbourhoods devastated by being engineered to accommodate maximum space for high speed car use and no-speed car parking, perpetual indebtedness to pay for car costs, and so on. As social solidarity has been torn apart in societies everywhere by the horrible consequences of neoliberal capitalism and austerity, a new kind of solidarity around the embrace of the bicycle has helped many to find a remarkably joyful connection to their sibling cyclists. This ‘bike culture solidarity’ has been largely a middle- and upper-middleclass phenomenon. Poor people have been bicycling through the whole of the twentieth century without making a political or cultural issue of it. Once the bike culture started to catch on during the past generation, it took root among the parts of the population who were perhaps most separated from the kind of everyday solidarity that has always been the hallmark of poorer communities. Social ties and organic communities have been disrupted by an economic system that reduces all interaction to commerce and transactions. People who have been too poor or too far from the modernised cities are the ones whose human solidarity has been most resilient. In places like Mexico, it is still not uncommon to hear people dismiss so-called ‘backward’ small towns as Pueblos Bicicleteros, to denote their lack of modernity. But in a delicious turnabout, those towns can now claim to have leapfrogged the stupidity of twentieth-century modernism to embrace a fully modern twenty-first-century sensibility rooted in a shared and ecologically grounded consciousness, and at ease with self-propelled mobility as a sensible first choice in lieu of oil-and-auto dependency. Here in San Francisco, bicycling has also boomed since the early 1990s. We’ve had an enormous increase in daily bicycling trips during this period. As bicycling became normalised for tens of thousands of people, what was once a dynamic bicycling culture has largely disintegrated. Critical Mass still rolls every month but it has been quite a long time since I thought it magical or inspiring. Generally it is a very predictable and rather boring ride these days without much conversation or discussion. The local Bike Kitchen is still going strong, though it is in an expensive space that has thrust a certain degree of normality onto its once intangible essence. Dozens of bike shops are doing well here as small businesses. New separated, buffered, painted bike lanes are opening here and there though we are far from a comprehensive network of functional bikeways separated from streets dominated by cars. There are still some independent efforts to use the bicycle in politically interesting ways. The activist group PODER has organised Bicis del Pueblo, which holds monthly bike-building workshops, organised group rides, and more to serve the largely Latino population of the working-class, southern part of San Francisco. In Los Angeles the Ovarian Psycos are an all-female posse of cyclists who are pushing boundaries of both gender and racial exclusion in the bike scene down there. Bicycles continue to provide a means for social groups to assert their independence, their opposition to the dominant culture, and to enact a partial agenda of urban transformation. But bicycling has been aggressively captured, too, by monied interests committed to the preservation and extension of existing dynamics of power and wealth. *** Bicycling and Neoliberalism The 25-year trajectory of bicycling culture in San Francisco cannot be understood apart from the primary advocacy organisation in the city, the San Francisco Bicycle Coalition (SFBC). When Critical Mass began in 1992 the SFBC was a group of about 15+ volunteers who met once a month in the back of a Chinese restaurant. About a year later they took the leap to renting an office and formalising a paid director and part-time staff. After the police attack on Critical Mass in 1997 the SFBC enjoyed a sudden influx of new recruits and within a year had grown to more than a thousand dues-paying members. By 2000 the new executive director was pushing membership growth as a strategy, while she was damping grassroots activism in favour of a more typical hierarchical organisation. By the mid-2000s the SFBC had surpassed 5000 members and by 2010 it had reached 10,000. The executive director’s leadership was rewarded with appointments to representative positions on the SF Municipal Transportation Agency and the Golden Gate Bridge, Highway & Transportation District. The organisation gained financial and political support from foundations, corporations, and governmental agencies and its budget soared to well over a half million dollars a year. Politicians sought its endorsement during each election cycle, and that power-to-endorse became an important arrow in the SFBC’s quiver - though we have to say, too, that the politicians that gained support from the Bicycle Coalition have not produced a comprehensive transformation of city streets, or even a significant fraction of them, to accommodate daily cycling. Over two and a half decades this organisational evolution provides a revealing window into the co-optation of a once-radical movement of bicyclists into a relatively conservative and cautious organisation, run in a strict top-down manner to ensure nothing unpredictable rocks the efforts to normalise and mainstream bicycling. Of course this could only be true in part because there are no other San Francisco organisations of bicyclists to speak of. For a brief time in 1997 and early 1998 a small group called ‘Grip’ staged some interventions and sought to develop an action-oriented organisation of cyclists committed to engaging in local political fights. But that effort petered out after less than a year. Critical Mass riders have eschewed any organisational efforts as Critical Mass because ultimately Critical Mass is an event, not an organisation. Participants have shown little interest in more formal organisations beyond those who have become members of the San Francisco or East Bay Bicycle Coalitions. These days there are fewer regular riders than newbies and visitors, a further structural reason why organisation does not emerge from the event. The expansive, participatory, and utopian qualities that characterised the first years of Critical Mass rides gave way over time to ossification and repetitiveness within Critical Mass itself. The political space of bicycling outside of Critical Mass has been filled by the SFBC which subsumed ‘activism’ into free labour for a hierarchical lobbying corporation pushing a ‘pro-bike’ agenda. Jason Henderson, writing in his excellent book Streetfight: The Politics of Mobility in San Francisco, argues:
The original agenda of the SFBC, closely aligned to the Critical Masses of the 1990s, had its roots in a broad criticism of automobility, but the new SFBC took pains to stress that the majority of its membership owned cars and yet chose to bicycle. The SFBC of the nineties was characterized by a leadership that offered progressive critiques of the geography of capitalism and of a lifestyle centered on unfettered hyperconsumption, the incessant speeding up of everyday life, competition rather than cooperation, and possessive individualism rather than collective action: in other words, a critique of neoliberalism and conservatism. In 2012 the new SFBC was sponsored by large corporate foundations whose wealth came from capitalist investments, and this included a who’s who of San Francisco and Silicon Valley businesses and entrepreneurs. Among them, Google, Microsoft, Pacific Gas & Electric, an array of private transportation, urban planning, and architectural consultants, real estate firms, attorneys, and individual donors connected to software and social networking firms. The organization maintained a very large volunteer base as well, one that provided some sixteen thousand hours of free work, and 26 percent of its income came from the fees of its thousands of progressively inclined individual members... In addition, despite the large corporate and foundation financing, the SFBC relied heavily on in-kind support from hundreds of independent small businesses such as restaurants, bicycle dealers, bars and cafes, and other small-scale retailers.[466]With this increase in budget and profile, the SFBC earned its money by becoming a meek team player for local interests, hoping for handouts from their benefactors. With regard to a real bicycle agenda, they have acquiesced to a glacial effort to transform bicycling corridors throughout the city (losing the argument for the primary north-south artery on Polk Street to cranky condo residents and car-loving bar owners). The difficulty of crossing the bay by bicycle has been exacerbated by the SFBC and East Bay Bike Coalitions, who both have abdicated to the state’s traffic engineers at Caltrans. Caltrans’s proposal is for a ten-year project to cost $1 billion that will attach an external dual-use bike and maintenance lane to the west span of the Bay Bridge to connect San Francisco to the middle of the Bay and the other half of the recently built Bay Bridge bike lane. Ignored in this acquiescence is the easy and cheap alternative of having the west span returned to its original six lanes with one reserved for cyclists - for a budget of less than 0.5 per cent of the cost of the other approach. The SFBC and EBBC both ignore the vital history of the San Francisco Freeway Revolt that halted freeway construction through the City in the early 1960s, at the exact time when the Department of Highways (rechristened Caltrans years later) was reconfiguring the Bay Bridge to connect to a high-speed freeway system that was never built. The San Francisco Bicycle Coalition found supporters among real estate developers who see higher profits in building housing for younger workers that reject car culture (relieving the developers of having to spend money on accommodating automobiles in expensive parking garages). Bicycle advocates in San Francisco, New York, Memphis Tennessee and other cities have turned a blind eye to the resulting displacement of working-class communities and people of colour that big real estate developments have caused, as long as they also included new bicycle infrastructure. Unfortunately many of cycling’s most earnest and well-meaning advocates have tunnel vision, seeing only support for bicycling as the issue. This produces a weird ‘arms race’ for funding and attention at the expense of other issues, and fails to recognise the way bicycling has become co-opted by wealthy interests to reinforce their own power and money. By maintaining a narrow focus on bicycling isolated from other social dynamics, the official proponents have facilitated a depoliticisation of bicycling and helped make it a component of the larger agenda of marketisation and neoliberal reorganisation of urban life. This defensive embrace of the status quo has also exacerbated class and racial dynamics that have given bicycling a reputation as part of a gentrifying culture, something that young white hipsters bring wherever they go. The invisibility of the legions of mostly immigrant workers commuting by bicycle also co-exists with the ever- higher profile of mainstream bicycle advocacy, more grist for the mill of social fragmentation. This dynamic has complicated the development of proper bicycling infrastructure. Efforts to improve public thoroughfares for uses other than by private autos inevitably produce public opposition. The aforementioned Polk Street debacle has led to partial improvements but falls far short of a truly safe reimagining and redesign of the road, having fallen victim to vociferous opposition from bar owners and local elderly and wealthy residents of condominiums. But the class and ethnic tension provoked by the neoliberal embrace of bicycling has led activists associated with the Mission District’s ‘Calle 24’ Latino commercial district preservation efforts to angrily oppose both the establishment of ‘parklets’ (where parking spaces are repurposed into small public parks with chairs and tables) and the arrival of the expanded bike-sharing system now branded as ‘Ford GoBike’. Part of the Calle 24 opposition stems from longtime Latino small busi- nessses whose clientele has been displaced to the suburbs by gentrification, and can only return to shop by car, hence the insatiable need for parking. Also, anti-gentrification campaigners across the Bay Area have come to identify parklets as emblems of gentrification since few working-class residents have the time or wherewithal to ‘hang out’ during the sunny afternoons when the (free to the public) parklets are at their best. Instead, white hipsters with laptops, or wealthier mothers with babies tend to be the predominant users of such spaces. Whether parklets cause gentrification or are merely easily made use of by people deemed gentrifiers doesn’t come under much scrutiny. Latino bicycle activists, who often favour public space reconfiguration away from private cars, have generally been drowned out by the avidly pro-car sentiments of the local population. Loudly asserting the necessity of car use, these locals also wrap their dependence on private cars in a cultural enthusiasm (e.g. the ‘lowriders’) that elides their hidden support to the automobile and oil industries, hardly bastions of Latino cultural pride! *** Bicycling: A Window to Larger Changes In my opinion, bicycling is only an interesting activity worth promoting if it leads to bigger changes than merely getting more people on bicycles. After all, there are cities such as Copenhagen and Amsterdam where nearly half the population use bicycles regularly for transportation, yet these are hardly utopias that have escaped the darker realities facing people across the world. It’s great to have fewer cars and many more bicyclists, but not if the society they are bicycling around in is based on the same logic as the one that made cars seem so normal for so long. The problems we face are far greater than what kind of vehicle we use to move from place to place - even if the choice we make about vehicles is one important decision among dozens that we face as individuals. Bicycling fails its potential as a key to unlocking crucial and urgent political and social change if it allows itself to be about merely bicycling. I don’t really care about derailleurs or brake pads or what colour or brand your bicycle is, whether you like racing bikes, mountain bikes, or folding bikes. It is not interesting. These are the easy and acceptable obsessions of a consumer society. Your ability to act in the world is channelled into deciding how to spend money. Buy the good products, don’t buy the bad ones, and you are doing your part. This is wrong. By accepting the logic of a neoliberal consumer society, in which your political agency is limited to shopping choices, you lose the ability to change how we live, to change what kind of world we make together every day with our labour, our activity. Bicycling, luckily, can be about a lot more than just buying the latest gear. And it can be about a lot more than just getting some stripes painted on a busy boulevard, or even new bike highways crisscrossing a country as some places are now planning. Because if we all got up across the planet tomorrow and bicycled instead of going in cars, while it would be a good step in the right direction, we would still be bicycling to jobs that are producing the world we live in now. We would still be going to banks, advertising agencies, and real estate offices, buying and selling people’s homes, manipulating currencies, promulgating propaganda for politicians and products; vast military budgets would go on being spent to control populations and territories and to make war; borders would still block the free movement of people while allowing toothpaste, tennis shoes, wheat and wood to cross the earth, burning fossil fuels along the way. We cannot shop our way to a sensible world. We have to make it, and we have to make it together. When we choose to move through cities on bicycles it’s clearly a better choice than using automobiles most of the time - for us as individuals, and for the larger society we live in. Bicycling is doing, it is an active production of movement and as such is a key part of redesigning life. But politically and philosophically we have to connect the activity of bicycling to the activity of reinventing life. If we learn to move around differently by bicycling, we also have to learn how to use water differently, produce and distribute food differently, build and share safe and adequate housing for everyone on earth differently. We have to connect bicycling’s rebellious meaning to plans to make sure free communications and free transportation are inviolable human rights alongside food, water and shelter. Bicycling is the key to opening a much more complicated conversation about how different life could be. Riding our bikes is so simple and such a pleasure and can lead us into a shared Bicycle Commons. That shared, familiar pleasure is a great place to start thinking critically about the choices we make about much more than merely how we get around. Bicycling, at its best, should challenge us to change not just how we get from point A to point B, but what we do at point A and what we do at point B. It should help us to ask why we do those things, who decides what is worth doing, how could we make those decisions together - that is, what is democracy now? - and who benefits from the choices we make? Bicycling can unlock much more interesting questions with much more interesting answers than we might think at first thought. Writing in ‘Commons against and beyond capitalism’, George Caffentzis and Silvia Federici underscore the dynamics of enclosure that the Bicycling Commons has importantly emerged to confront:
From New Delhi and New York to Lagos and Los Angeles, urban space is being privatized, street vending, sitting on the sidewalks or stretching on a beach without paying are being forbidden. Rivers are dammed, forests logged, waters and aquifers bottled away and put on the market, traditional knowledge systems are sacked through Intellectual Property Regulations and public schools are turned into for-profit enterprises. This explains why the idea of the commons exercises such an attraction on our collective imagination: their loss is expanding our awareness of the significance of their existence and increasing our desire to learn more about them.[467]The Bicycle Commons burst into consciousness 25 years ago, primarily through the contagious pleasure that the Critical Mass phenomenon helped spread worldwide, and the opening of the forgotten public space of our shared thoroughfares. But the Commons as an animating force shrinks when the bicycle is merely a practical device, simply a way to get around. When bicycling is fused with a more expansive agenda that challenges the logic of incessant growth, a world based on commodification of humans and their creativity, and the reduction of nature to ‘resources’, the sense of a Bicycling Commons, based on choosing together to produce a different way to move around and hence a different way to live, thrives. A deeper agenda lurks within our spinning wheels but can slip away quite easily if we defer to the narrow common-sense agenda of those who can’t see the forest for the trees, who can’t see that bicycling is just a doorway to a much larger transformation of how we make life together. [461] George Caffentzis and Silvia Federici, ‘Commons Against and Beyond Capitalism’, Community Development Journal 49(S1), ( January 2014), p. i101. [462] For the 10th anniversary we published Critical Mass: Bicycling’s Defiant Celebration (edited by Chris Carlsson; Oakland, CA: AK Press, 2002). [463] Silvia Federici, ‘Feminism and the Politics of the Commons’, in David Bollier and Silke Helfrich, The Wealth of the Commons: A World Beyond Market & State (Amherst, MA: Levellers Press, 2012). At [[http://wealthofthecommons.org/essay/][http://wealthofthecommons.org/essay/]] feminism-and-politics-commons. [464] In Shift Happens: Critical Mass at 20, Chris Carlsson, Lisaruth Elliot and Adriana Camarena (eds) (San Francisco, CA: Full Enjoyment Books, 2012), I wrote an essay called ‘Ruminations of an Accidental Diplomat’ that details some of my experiences in various cities around the world, offering evidence for my assertion of a five-year window in which the best of the experience rises and falls in each locale. [465] The full text is reproduced in Critical Mass: Bicycling’s Defiant Celebration. [466] Jason Henderson, Streetfight: The Politics of Mobility in San Francisco (Ameherst, MA: University of Massachusetts Press, 2013), pp. 133-4. [467] George Caffentzis and Silvia Federici, ‘Commons Against and Beyond Capitalism’, pp. 94-5.
Every state is a community of some kind, and every community is established with a view to some good; for mankind always act in order to obtain that which they think good. But, if all communities aim at some good, the state or political community, which is the highest of all, and which embraces all the rest, aims at good in a greater degree than any other, and at the highest good.[471]This is what distinguishes man from the animal kingdom. Man is, by nature, a ‘political animal’.[472] For that reason, whoever cannot live in society is ‘either a beast or a god’.[473] Therefore, whoever is not part of the political community does not pertain to human nature. Human nature can acquire true existence and become materialised only within the context of the ‘commons’ and participation therein. Animals can create certain forms of community or instances of socialisation through their activities but, as they do not have Speech, they cannot be considered as more than simple nature. Speech expresses the realm of freedom and human nature, which lies at the threshold between beast and god. This link between human nature and the commons presents a paradox of double exclusion both within and outside the sphere of the commons. In the ancient Greek city-state, only free male citizens had access to the commons. Slaves, foreigners and women were excluded. The commons could become materialised only within the symbolic walls of the political community. For that reason, the practice of ostracism[474] was not only a symbolic punishment; it also had a defined and materialised character. The loss of the identity of the free citizen meant the debasement of the subject to a natural state amounting to slavery. The individual enjoyed the realm of freedom and Speech as a subject only when included within the walls. Outside the walls, s/he can only be considered as ‘simple nature’, a naked life in the words of Agamben.[475] So if, as Silvia Federici rightly pointed out,[476] Marx provides in his 1844 Manuscripts a clear idea of the relation between alienation and the commons, we must not forget that the distinction between free, conscious and reasonable activity of humans with regards to nature is based on the analysis of Aristotle who, as a ghost, hovers above Marx’s head. For the human being, a ‘social creature’, a ‘living species’ that is universally free, participation in the community and the commons is a natural condition, one that justifies relations of inclusion-exclusion and power. The commons appear as a neutralised, abstract entity, an essence that characterises human beings and turns into a field of power and command that naturalises existing power relations. The relation of inclusion-exclusion exists within the commons as an active paradox, if we consider that the notion of participation in a common idea and practice is what defines the form of the commons. Furthermore, if we accept, as Federici argues elsewhere,[477] that the female form is identified with the commons and the sphere of reproduction, we assert the division between production and reproduction, public and private. However, on the basis of the line of descent I have followed, in ancient Greece the commons refer to the public and not the private sphere. That is, in this patriarchal world, the commons appear as the exact opposite of the sphere of reproduction. Tracing the origins of the notion of the commons, as Caffentzis has done, does not help us elevate it to a critical category if we take the earlier ancient Greek understanding as a starting point. Neither does it provide with certainty the possibility of detecting a revolutionary core in commoning practices. For the ancient Greek political community, the commons as a privilege of the public sphere belong exclusively to men: they are the expression of the patriarchal society, of the exclusion of women from the public sphere and their enclosure in the sphere of the idiots. In this context, the early relations of domination that excluded women from the forms of participation in the commons are a natural condition. It is no coincidence that the word ‘common’, which referred to the woman that escaped the private sphere, also meant ‘prostitute’ (common woman: playgirl, prostitute). The ancient Greeks identified woman as a form of reproduction of life, but only within the boundaries of the private sphere. When outside it, when rendered a ‘common’ woman, she lost the sacred right to the reproduction of life and she turned into an even more inferior being, one for the ‘common use’ of men. The assertion and reinforcement of the separation between production and reproduction, the public and the private, seems to allow, at least under specific historical conditions, the reinforcement of exclusion. How much has this symbolic order changed since then? Could it be that this relation and the fragmented language it articulates still echo in today’s social organisation? Contemporary theories on the commons seem to turn the meanings and practices of ancient Greece upside down. However, the problem remains that the effort to define the commons through participation or through tracing the lineage of the concept necessarily defines borders and perimeters. More importantly, it defines which subjectivities are included within the symbolic walls of the commons and capable of participating, and which not. In these circumstances, it is not very clear what the difference is between the capitalist and anti-capitalist commons. The constitutive convention of exclusion remains. Although the first exclusion, within the walls of the commons and outside them, seems to be lifted for those who participate in them, the reproduction of exclusion within the walls of the commons is not avoided. If, for example, collective ownership is considered a form of commons that abrogates the exclusion of those who do not have access to private ownership, how can one challenge the practices of exclusion between the small minority of commoners and the majority of those who do not have access to the property (and who are forced either to work for a wage, or migrate) within the same community? If the commons do not question the very core of the logic of capital and do not push for the abolition of the propertyform itself and also the way in which the capitalist barbarity is constituted, there is a real danger that they re-fetishise the logic they are trying to negate. The assertion of reproductive labour does not negate the labourform. The real question remains: how to abolish the power that labour-form implies? How can we challenge the hierarchies that are being reproduced within one same community? These are problems encountered when we try to fit social practices and ideas within a logical model. In conclusion, I believe the emergence of these paradoxes runs through commoning discourses. This does not diminish their value within the context of social resistance. Under capitalism, the subject is contradictory and schizophrenic anyway. The same goes for the way in which communing discourses expresses their social practices and ideas. The issue is not how to reproduce a non-adulterated theory. Perhaps it is even dangerous for, when unfolded, a ‘non-adulterated’ theory could lead to the creation of hierarchies and powers in different forms. The awareness of the contradictions and paradoxes that exist within the way in which we resist and act helps us stand critically against capitalism, but also rethink our own selves. Perhaps that is why social resistances are not fixed forms, but rather verbs and questions in constant movement, change, and transformation. [468] George Caffentzis, ‘Commons’, in K. Fritsch, C. O’Connor and A.K. Thompson (eds), Keywords for Radicals: The Contested Vocabulary of Late-Capitalist Struggle (Chico, CA: AK Press, 2016), pp. 93-101. [469] Thucydides, The History of the Peloponnersian War (DigiReads, 2009), p. 63. [470] For the notion of abject, see Julia Kristeva, Powers of Horror: An Essay on Abjection (New York: Columbia University Press, 1982). [471] Aristoteles, Politics (Kitschener: Batoche Books, 1999), p. 3. [472] Ibid., p. 5. [473] Ibid., p. 6. [474] Ostracism was a political practice in ancient Athenian democracy, whereby a vote was held - using shells (ostrako) - on whether a citizen considered a threat to the political system should be banished from the city. [475] Giorgio Agamben, Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1998). [476] In, for instance, her 2016 lecture Towards a theory of the commons. Historical trends, ethical and political perspectives, presented in Puebla, Mexico. [477] For example, in ‘Feminism and the politics of the common in an era of primitive accumulation’, in Team Colors (ed.) Uses of a Whirlwind: Movement, Movements, and Contemporary Radical Currents in the United States (Baltimore: AK Press, 2010); republished in Revolution at Point Zero: Housework, Reproduction, and Feminist Struggle (New York: PM Press, 2013), pp. 138-48.
There is a tension between the old and new in our historical condition with respect to science and machines that needs to be isolated and resolved . . . the enormous productivity (and violence) brought about by introducing a new order of machines into the work process is putting . . . stress onto the categories of capitalist (and anti-capitalist) self-understanding.[526]Ultimately, he says, computers do pose a serious challenge to the labour theory of value, because,
[A] universal Turing machine can imitate or instantiate any rule-governed act of labour. If there was, therefore, a positive aspect of labor that created value, either individually or collectively, then one can conclude that machines also, at least theoretically, can produce value.[527]So in this section I will, in frankly speculative mode, take up a question George asks: ‘does the Turing machine create the conditions for a new type of conflict between workers and machine qua capital?’[528] Machine learning does not simply promise to significantly enlarge the scope of tasks capital can automate. It also enables machines to produce problem-solving outcomes that are unforeseen and not even well understood by their programmers. This jeopardises the monopoly on creativity that is a last-ditch humanist defense against machinic replacement. Alpaydin suggests ‘Intelligence seems not to originate from some outlandish formula, but rather from the patient, almost brute force use of simple, straightforward algorithms’ and then remarks ‘it will not be surprising if this type of learned intelligence reaches the level of human intelligence some time before this century is over’.[529] Such forecasts have of course been all too frequent in the past. However, in the case of machine learning they do not depend on some moment of mystical ‘singularity’, in which machines attain self-awareness. On the contrary, the new model of AI points (perhaps more disturbingly) to the ‘de-coupling of intelligence from consciousness.[530] Recent AI exploits by machine learning AI’s, such as the Jeopardy victory of IBM’s Watson and the defeat of grandmaster Lee Se-Dol by Google’s Alpha Go, have made the hailing of robot overlords a virulent cultural meme. Such fears and hopes may collapse on technological reefs, as previous AI summers have been followed by AI winters. The ‘Hype Cycle of Emerging Technologies’, plotted by the market research com- pany,[531] places machine learning at a ‘Peak of Inflated Expectations’ before an anticipated ‘Trough of Disillusionment’. Even if this is followed by a renewed climb towards a ‘Plateau of Productivity’ the ascent may take longer than AI Apocalyptics imagine. Automation is a matter not just of technological capability but of the respective cost to capital of machines and workers. If workers remain weak and disorganised, with wages stagnating or declining, capital’s incentive to replace them is low; only if struggles for wage demands intensify, or the state subsidises AI infrastructures, is advance likely to be quick. Yet even if machine learning’s ambitions of are only slowly realised, they may still yield a level of automation beyond that foreseen by most Marxist theorists. George contends AI capital will always be matched with low wage service workers and global proletarianisation in the global south. But both these options are threatened by machine learning technologies that can target, for example both call centre work and garment sewing in South East Asia.[532] Globalisation and automation will certainly continue to proceed side by side (China’s capitalist today are both outsourcing to Vietnam and Bangladesh and rapidly adopting industrial robots) but capital may be shifting its weight from one foot to the other. Equally problematic, however, is the post-operaismo assumption that, while material work is automated, new strata of immaterial labour will be summoned into existence. It is accountants overtaken by financial algorithms, journalists confronting automated sports reporting, lawyers looking at computerised discovery processes - that are threatened by machine learning. Creating the infrastructures for ubiquitous machine learning will require a large coding workforce but portions of this work too could be up for automa- tion.[533] The prospect of a generalised intellectual workforce may be overtaken by a far more military sense of ‘general intellect’: automated machinic command. Ultimately the scope of automation opened by machine learning may not simply involve jobs. It is possible that capital could incrementally replace each stage of the circuit of capital by cybernetic components; robots producing autonomous vehicles, vehicles that then robotically perform the circulation functions of transport and communication, while with a credit card number ordering their own gas, repairs, toll rates, spare parts, the whole ensemble providing the object of algorithmic, high speed financial speculation. This would be the logical fulfillment of von Neumann’s world of self-replicating automata.[534] Unlikely as this may seem, the very genesis of capital lies in an almost comparable convulsion; that of the vast human eviction from the land that goes by the name of primitive accumulation, conducted over some two centuries, accompanied by the ‘discovery’ and conquest of a ‘New World’, with all the enslavements and exterminations this entailed. The advent of von Neumann-style machine capitalism, potentially devoid of human bosses or human workers, would surely be a comparably protracted and tumultuous process. But capital may indeed, after successive centuries of primitive accumulation and the formal and real subsumption of labour, shedding labour in favour of machines, autonomising itself from the human. We could call this ‘futuristic accumulation’ - or ‘apocalypse as usual’. When George concedes that AI’s could create value for capital, he falls back to suggest that ‘labor’s value-creating capacities must lie in its negative capability, that is, its capacity to refuse to be labor’ or its ‘self-reflexive negativity’.[535] Be that as it may (machines too can ‘refuse to work’, by ‘accidents’ that, as interruptions of surplus value extraction, are from capital’s point of view, ontologically equivalent to a strike),[536] proletarian hopes for a better world definitely do depend on the capacity for refusal. People will get AI that releases them from dangerous and degrading labour, in a context of equality, cooperation and human self-development, only if they can reject the AI that capital wants to give them, which will render humans evermore superfluous and precarious within an increasingly machinic system of production. In the United States today, the decomposition of the mass worker has resulted in a toxic conjunction, as rage at deindustrialisation’s job loss is hijacked by a racist, xenophobic nationalism and directed against foreign workers and immigrants. President Trump as saviour of the working class does not mention automation, though many of the jobs he has so far ‘saved’ are slated for that fate. His demand that US corporations repatriate production to a deregulated homeland could trigger an orgy of AI automation, aided by the infrastructural programs such as remaking highways for driverless transportation: ‘made in America, by robots’. Yet if the fear of the alien immigrant is replaced by confrontation with the alien power of capital incarnate in AI, this will create a new terrain of struggle. It is possible that in the riots and occupations around the world that followed the Wall Street crash we can see some very faint foreshadowing of struggles against futuristic accumulation; movements of increasingly precarious proletarians and downwardly mobile middle strata, over-matched in the workplace by capital’s technologies and global strategies, joined by apprehensive students and militant hacktivists, directly confronting in the streets and squares the state apparatus that protects an order of mounting inequality and inhumanity. To this mix could be added add other elements that have emerged more recently: the post-Snowden opposition to Big Data-culling surveillance; the resistance to police of Black Lives Matter and indigenous activists; the resurfacing of demands for public control of the economy in the new electoral politics of Podemos, Sanders and Corbyn. But, pace Marx, and George, the history of struggles against capital’s most recent attempt to create a realm of self-reproducing automata is yet to be written ‘in letters of blood and fire’. [490] Caffentzis, ‘The end of work or the renaissance of slavery? A critique of Rifkin and Negri’, Common Sense, 24 (December 1998); revised and reprinted in Werner Bonefeld (ed.) Revolutionary Writings: Common Sense Essays in Post-Political Politics (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 2003). This essay and most of this series are collected in Caffentzis, In Letters of Blood and Fire: Work, Machines, and the Crisis of Capitalism (Oakland, CA: PM Press, 2013). An important exception is Caffentzis, ‘From the Grundrisse to Capital and beyond: Then and Now’, Workplace, 15, 2008, PP. 59[-]74. [491] This paper draws on conversations and collaborations with James Steinhoff and Atle Kjosen. [492] Caffentzis, In Letters of Blood and Fire, P. 127; John von Neumann, ‘The General and Logical Theory of Automata’, in James Newman (ed.) The World of Mathematics (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1956). [493] Pamela McCorduck and Edward A. Feigenbaum, The Fifth Generation: Artificial Intelligence & Japan’s Computer Challenge to the World (New York: Addison-Wellesly, 1983). [494] Caffentzis, ‘From the Grundrisse to Capital and beyond’. [495] Antonio Negri, Marx Beyond Marx: Lessons from the Grundrisse (New York: Autonomedia, 1984); Karl Marx, Grundrisse (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1973 [1857]), PP. 690-712. [496] Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, Empire (Boston: Harvard University Press, 2000), PP. 289-300. [497] Caffentzis, In Letters of Blood and Fire, P. 95. [498] Caffentzis, ‘From the Grundrisse to Capital and beyond’, P. 68. [499] Ibid., P. 6. [500] Marx, Grundrisse, P. 748; Capital, vol. 1 (New York: Penguin, 1976), PP. 772-6; Capital, vol. 3 (New York: Penguin, 1981), PP. 317-38. [501] Caffentzis, ‘From the Grundrisse to Capital and beyond’. [502] Marx, Capital, vol. 3, PP. 339-48. [503] Ibid., PP. 254-73. [504] ‘From the Grundrisse to Capital and beyond’, p. 71. [505] Ibid., p. 60. [506] Ibid. [507] In Letters of Blood and Fire, p. 11. [508] Originally published in Midnight Notes Collective, The New Enclosures (Jamaica Plain, MA: Midnight Notes, 1990); reprinted in In Letters of Blood and Fire. [509] Marx, Capital, vol. 1: 873-95. [510] World Bank, World Development Report 2013: Jobs (Washington, DC: World Bank 2013), pp. 3-4. [511] Richard Dobbs et al., ‘The World at Work: Jobs, Pay, and Skills for 3.5 Billion People’, McKinsey Global Institute, 2012, p. 1. At [[http://www.mckinsey.com/insights/][www.mckinsey.com/insights/]] employment_and_growth/the_world_at_work. [512] Tim Worstall, ‘China Makes Almost Nothing Out of Apple’s iPads and iPhones’, Forbes (accessed 24 December 2011). At [[http://www.forbes.com/sites/timwor-stall/2011/12/24/china-makes-almost-nothing-out-of-apples-ipads-and-i/][www.forbes.com/sites/timwor- stall/2011/12/24/china-makes-almost-nothing-out-of-apples-ipads-and-i/]] #76579bf60b4b. [513] Horace Dediu, ‘iPhone sine qua non’, Asymco (accessed 26 February 2012). At [[http://www.asymco.com/2012/02/26/iphone-sine-qua-non/][www.asymco.com/2012/02/26/iphone-sine-qua-non/]]. [514] Harry Cleaver, ‘The Zapatistas and the Electronic Fabric of Struggle’ (1995), at [[https://webspace.utexas.edu/][https://webspace.utexas.edu/]] hcleaver/www/zaps.html. [515] Midnight Notes Collective, Midnight Oil: Work, Energy, War, 1973-1992 (New York: Autonomedia, 1992). [516] Ethem Alpaydin, Machine Learning (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 2016), p. 12. [517] Michael Jablonski and Shawn Powers, The Real Cyberwar: The Political Economy of Internet Freedom (Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 2015), p. 80-5. [518] ‘Rise of the Superstars’, The Economist (accessed 17 September 2016). At www. economist.com/news/special-report/21707048-small-group-giant-companiessome- old-some-neware-once-again-dominating-global. [519] Robert J. Gordon, The Rise and Fall of American Growth: The U.S. Standard of Living Since the Civil War (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2016); Doug Henwood, ‘Workers: no longer needed?’ LBO News (accessed 17 July 2015). At [[https://lbo-news.com/2015/07/17/workers-no-longer-needed/][https://lbo-news.com/2015/07/17/workers-no-longer-needed/]]. [520] Fortune Editors, ‘There’s Now a Robot That Can Flip Burgers’, Fortune.com (accessed 14 March 2017). At [[http://fortune.com/2017/03/14/miso-robotics-flippy-burger-flipping-robot/][http://fortune.com/2017/03/14/miso-robotics-flippy- burger-flipping-robot/]]. [521] Hope Reese and Nick Heath, ‘Inside Amazon’s Clickworker Platform: How half a million people are being paid pennies to train AI’, Tech Republic (2016). At www. techrepublic.com/article/inside-amazons-clickworker-platform-how-half-a-million- people-are-training-ai-for-pennies-per-task/. [522] Paul Mason, ‘The battle over Uber and driverless cars is really a debate about the future of humanity’, The Guardian (accessed 31 October 2016). At [[http://www.the-guardian.com/commentisfree/2016/oct/31/paul-mason-driverless-cars-uber-artificial-intelligence-unemployment][www.the- guardian.com/commentisfree/2016/oct/31/paul-mason-driverless-cars-uber-artificial-intelligence- unemployment]]. [523] Cathy O’Neill, Weapons of Math Destruction: How Big Data Increases Inequality and Threatens Democracy (New York: Random House, 2016). [524] ‘Marx, Turing machines, and the labor of thought’ and ‘Crystals and analytic engines: historical and conceptual preliminaries to a new theory of machines’. Both in In Letters of Blood and Fire. [525] In Letters of Blood and Fire, p. 200. [526] Ibid., p. 198. [527] Ibid., p. 181; see also p. 161. [528] Ibid., p. 180. [529] Alpaydin, Machine Learning (2016), p. xii. [530] Yuval Noah Harari, Homo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow (New York: Signal Press, 2016), p. 101. [531] ‘Gartner’s 2016 Hype Cycle for Emerging Technologies Identifies Three Key Trends That Organizations Must Track to Gain Competitive Advantage’ (accessed 16 August 2016). At [[http://www.gartner.com/newsroom/id/3412017][www.gartner.com/newsroom/id/3412017]]. [532] Jae-Hee Chang and Phu Huynh ‘ASEAN in Transformation: The Future of Jobs at Risk of Automation’ International Labour Organisation (accessed July 2016), [[http://www.ilo.org/wcmsp5/groups/public/---ed_dialogue/---act_emp/documents/][www.ilo.org/wcmsp5/groups/public/---ed_dialogue/---act_emp/documents/]] publication/wcms_579554.pdf. [533] Tony Beltramelli, ‘pix2code: Generating Code from a Graphical User Interface Screenshot’. Submitted to 31st Conference on Neural Information Processing Systems (NIPS 2017), Long Beach, CA, USA. At [[https://arxiv.org/abs/1705.07962][https://arxiv.org/abs/1705.07962]]. [534] See Atle Mikkola Kj0sen, ‘Do Androids Dream of Surplus Value?’, Conference paper, Mediations 2.5, London, Ontario, 18 January 2013. At [[http://www.academia][www.academia]]. edu/2455476/Do_Androids_Dream_of_Surplus_Value; Philip Mirowski, Machine Dreams: Economics Becomes a Cyborg Science (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001). [535] In Letters of Blood and Fire, p. 181; see also p. 175. [536] I owe this observation to a conversation with Kjosen.
He does not see it, he does not understand it, and it does not in fact interest him. The actual differences in magnitude between profit and surplus-value in the various spheres of production (and not merely between the rate of profit and the rate of surplus-value) now completely conceals the true nature and origin of profit, not only for the capitalist, who has here a particular interest in deceiving himself, but also from the worker. With the transformation of values into prices of production, the very basis for determining values is now removed from view?[589]Debates over the transformation problem tend to focus on questions of logical consistency on the level of theory.[590] Caffentzis shows that understanding the dynamics of the average rate of profit and the gravitation of prices around prices of production is key to understanding how capitalism works in practice - especially energy capital. In a paper presented to a conference in Japan in 2012 Caffentzis stated:
One of the fundamental aspects of the capitalist mode of production is that the site where workers are exploited (and surplus value is created) is not the place where the surplus value appears as profit, rent or interest This is one reason for the mystifying aspect of the system. If human labour is central to the creation of values, then how could capitalist corporations that sell commodities produced with very little direct labour (like the electricity produced in nuclear power plants) be able to have even average profits? And on the other side, if human labour is central to the creation of values, those corporations that require very little capital and employ many workers to produce commodities (like the uranium mined in Niger) are usually the most exploitative, but often they barely can appropriate even the average rate of profit. At first one asks in wonder, how is this possible? Its answer is another question, imagine if it did not happen? Since capitalists will only invest in or own commodity-producing corporations so that they will accrue at least an average rate of profit, that means that high capital-intensity corporations experiencing profits below the average (sic) rate will find no new investors (who would invest their money in industries they hope will at least give them an average rate). If surplus value equalled (sic) profits, then such corporations would stop producing commodities that might be quite crucial to the whole system of production. And, after all, capitalists are not philanthropic towards each other nor are they willing to sacrifice even a tenth of their profits for the good of the whole capitalist class (as their complaints concerning taxation attest). If so, how do highly capital-intensive industries (like electricityproducing corporations) that are essential to the operation of many other industries because they supply crucial energy inputs not become investment pariahs leading to a whole crucial branch of industry going bankrupt?[591]Caffentzis makes the same argument in relation to oil.[592] Oil was important to global capitalism in the twentieth century, (its future is contested). Oil functions as an input into many other commodities. The price of oil plays a central role in the function of prices throughout capitalism. Oil companies make up ‘fifteen of the forty largest companies in the world deal in the extraction, transport and, refinement of oil and gas’ and the composition of oil industries is one where the ratio of technological investment to labour is incredibly high?[593] Oil companies are profitable because they realise as profit surplus-value that is produced through the pores of the capitalist system as a whole. This is also why oil is a concern for capitalism as a system on a whole: what happens to these profits matters. Will they flow back into capital accumulation or will it be directed elsewhere? This is exactly why so many ‘responsible’ capitalists are concerned about the behaviour of OPEC leaders, for in the last two decades too many of these leaders appear to be ‘out of control’ (from Quaddafi, to Khomeini, to Hussain, to Chavez, to a new generation that might, after a few changes of dress and rhetoric, include Abu Bakr al-Bagdadi). ‘Responsible’ capitalists can no longer be sure that the surplus value transferred to the Middle East or Venezuela to purchase oil would be dutifully recycled into Swiss, New York or London Banks as it was in the past. Now it might go to Korans for a madrassa in Kabil or rocket-propelled grenade launchers for ISIS.[594] What was so unique about the Midnight Notes Collective’s analysis of the first Iraq War (Desert Storm) is that they saw that the real problem for capital was the working class in the Middle East which demand too much of those profits in the form of wages and social spending. It was the oil proletariat, broadly conceived, that needed to be bombed and disciplined to ensure an acceptable level of profit flowed back to the appropriate coffers.[595] *** Australia’s Price Shock In his work on energy and energy struggles, Caffentzis uses categories developed by Marx to analyse specific concrete situations. We can use a similar methodological approach to understand the looming energy crisis in Australia. This looming energy crisis isn’t a product of technology nor politics - but rather of the dynamics of profit and struggle. The difference is that Caffentzis used Marx’s work to explain how energy capital syphoned up surplus-value made elsewhere as profit; here other elements of Marx’s work on the average rate of profit are also needed. What is crucial to grasp about capital’s tendency toward an average rate of profit is that it takes place in real time and across a real geography. These movements contain multiple potentials for interruption and malfunctioning. Capital cannot simply teleport from one industry to another fully formed. The two conditions that facilitate it functioning are the mobility of capital and the mobility of labour: This constant equalisation of the ever-renewed inequalities is accomplished more quickly, (1) the more mobile capital is, i.e. the more easily it can be transferred from one sphere and one place to others; (2) the more rapidly labour-power can be moved from one sphere to another and from one local point of production to another.[596] The specifics of certain industries and certain capitalist societies retard both. In Australia high energy prices are driven by the tendency towards an average rate of profit via the formation of an average market value and through the flow of capital from one sphere to another - and also by their interruption and retardation.[597] *** The Development of Renewables is a Revolution in the Cost of Creating Energy Generators bid into the market to provide electricity for each five-minute interval of every day. AEMO ranks all bids in order from cheapest to most expensive (the ‘bid stack’) and dispatches the cheapest set of bids that meets the needs of the system. The prices paid to all generators dispatches is the bid of the last generator needed?[598] Derivate contracts are used to hedge the price. Renewable energy threatens to drive the prices down. ‘Wind and solar have high capital costs but effectively zero marginal costs; once the facility is built, the energy produced is essentially free.’[599] Renewable energy works to force down the price of producing energy through a massive lowering in the required inputs in labour, machinery and resources (variable and constant capital). The changing composition of energy production is changing the price of production. Paradoxically, this is not leading to an immediate drop in prices but rather is pushing them up by contributing to a drop in supply as fossil fuel production leaves the market but little new investment flows into renewables. Renewable energy means a massive recalculation in the value of energy - one which renders coal and gas generation of electricity increasingly unprofitable. On the other hand, renewable energy generation requires a large initial investment and is intermittent and impacted by weather. In the absence of reliable storage this will lead to spikes in prices as supply fluctuates. Added to this renewable energy generation draws on a clean energy subsidy and policy uncertainty means that this source of income is not guaranteed long term. Thus, we are witnessing a revolution in the production of energy that is making coal fired technology uncompetitive - but changes to the cost price of power are happening in a way that is leading to dwindling supply and thus paradoxically higher prices. Now it could well be that capital is actually in the process of moving from coal into renewables - yet so far it isn’t. But even if it was this would take time - years in fact - and in the intervening period the actual amount of energy produced dwindles and thus prices rise and supply is unreliable. The very processes of moving to create an average rate of profit in real time creates feedback and distortions in and of itself. On the other side is the retail energy market. In Victoria, the state that most completely privatised energy prices have risen 200 per cent since 2000.[600] The most common explanation is that ecological charges have pushed up costs. This is bullshit. Rather it is the operation of profit within the particular structures of this market, where energy sold by the largest corporations dominate and consumers are trapped. Very few people are going to choose not to have power. In this sense the average rate of profit is deformed. Here, estimated profit margins (revenue minus costs, so not so dissimilar to Marx’s notion of the rate of profit) is 14.4 per cent whilst the profit margin for retail generally is around 4 percent.[601] Marx argues that in a particular market the regulation of prices has to do with the composition and structure of the firms competing with each other. When a market is dominated by the firms typified by large investment and high ratio of means of production to labour the market price isn’t viable for less productive firms and the former ‘forcibly makes room for itself’.[602] In retail energy we have a situation where large vertically integrated companies lead the market, charge high prices and make considerable profit, and smaller competitors, that have higher operating costs, try to compete by offering lower prices but then struggle to be viable.[603] The dynamics in wholesale energy production and in retail are pushing prices up. Can we see in these prices the operation of struggles from below? Caffentzis’ and the Midnight Notes Collective’s earlier works are able to point to large and complex social movements. In Australia, where the old barometers of struggle such as trade union membership and days lost to industrial action show a depressing droop we need to be more sensitive to Marx’s Old Mole.[604] You can’t be too mechanical about these things. Capital, labour and class struggle are global. You don’t have to find a struggle in a postcode to try to explain the movements of capital there. We could say the long-term shift to renewable energy, however partial and incomplete, is the product of decades of environmental struggles ‘denying capital its “right to shit”’.[605] As the Midnight Notes Collective and Friends write, ‘The reduction of the costs of constant capital can lead to an increase in the profit rate, but it crucially depends upon being able to “externalize” the harm it causes’.[606] But more specifically we can see the struggles against coal and gas mining, especially coal seam gas, shutting down fracking in multiple states and sites and delaying the construction of coal mining, have both blocked new investment and also prevented an increase in the supply of inputs for fossil fuel power generation, a corresponding drop in price and thus a rise in profitability for gas and coal powered electricity. Gas is especially interesting. In 2014-15 gas generated 21 per cent of electricity in Australia.[607] The majority of Australian gas is already committed for international markets.[608] Paradoxically, internationally, there is growing concern of over-supply.[609] In Australia not only are prices threatening profitability but there is a concern that supply will not be met in 2018-19 - this is partially because as coal production of energy reduces, gas is seen as a stop-gap to renewables.[610] Tellingly the federal government is trying to get state governments to over-turn bans on fracking and pressure gas producers to divert supplies to the domestic market?[611] The fact they have failed speaks to the power of the movements more than the clear thinking of state governments. *** Conclusion These struggles against mining, against the ability of capital to both eat and shit, have drawn together a coalition of urban environmentalists, farmers and rural hippies. The technical nature of mining means that small groups of people have been able to be quite effective in disrupting or at least delaying its operations. Yet isn’t this again a repeat of the problem that the Midnight Notes Collective identified earlier: a limited class composition that fails to really address the driving force of capital accumulation? The real threat to profitability is the combination of struggles: against the expansion of mining, by workers within mining and the refusal of customers to pay prices that companies demand as just part of the movement of the class. This would terminate the profitability of the sector and thus capital accumulation. But how to do this? Caffentzis’ and the Midnight Notes Collective’s problem remains our problem. At the end of ‘The Work/ Energy Crisis and the Apocalypse’ Caffentzis argues the only way we can avert apocalypse is to struggle for a better life. ‘As Polish workers have shown, the only way to confront the missiles is to demand more and juicier sausages: “Only those who strike eat meat”.’[612] A viable future doesn’t lie in more work but rather the struggle against it. [560] Australian Energy Market Operator, Advice to Commonwealth Government on Dispatchable Capability, 2017, Electricity Statement of Opportunities for the National Electricity Market, 2017. [561] Australian Energy Market Operator, Update To Gas Statement Of Opportunities, 2017. [562] Kate Griffiths, Why are our electricity bills so high? The answers may surprise you. The Grattan Institute (accessed 13 December 2017). Available from [[https://grattan][https://grattan]]. edu.au/news/why-are-our-electricity-bills-so-high-the-answers-may- surprise-you/. [563] Rod Campbell, ‘Meeting our Paris Commitment’, Climate & Energy. The Australia Institute, 2017. [564] George Caffentzis, In Letters of Blood and Fire: Work, Machines and the Crisis of Capitalism (Oakland, CA: PM Press, 2013), p. 16. [565] Caffentzis, and the Midnight Notes Collective he is part of, take up the claim that class struggle is the motor-force of history but they reject the Italian workerist and postworkerist emphasis on the centrality of the most productive sections of the working class. Rather shaped by the feminist concerns of Wages for Housework they give special attention to those seemingly on the margins of or outside the wage relation. George Caffentzis, ‘The End of Work or The Renaissance of Slavery?’ In Revolutionary Writing: Common Sense Essays in Post-Political Politics edited by Werner Bonefeld (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 2003), pp. 115-33; Silvia Federici, Revolution at Point Zero (Oakland CA: PM Press, 2012); Monty Neill, ‘Rethinking Class Composition Analysis in Light of the Zapatistas’, in The Aurora of the Zapatistas: Local & Global Struggles of the Fourth World War edited by Midnight Notes Collective (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 2001), pp. 119-43. [566] Tony Wood, David Blowers and Kate Griffiths, Next Generation: the long-term future of the National Electricity Market (Grattan Institute, 2017). [567] Karl Marx, Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, translated by David Fernbach, vol. 3 (London: Penguin, 1991), p. 127. [568] Nick Harmsen, Prime Minister attacks South Australia’s renewable energy policy at state Liberal Party’s AGM. ABC News (accessed 6 November 2017). Available from [[http://www.abc.net.au/news/2017-08-12/pm-attacks-sas-renewable-energy-policy/][www.abc.net.au/news/2017-08-12/pm-attacks-sas-renewable-energy-policy/]] 8800782. [569] Anna Krien, ‘The long goodbye: Coal, coral and Australia’s climate deadlock’, Quarterly Essay (66), pp. 1-116, 2017; pp. 107-8. [570] Caffentzis has written on Lenin’s What is to Be Done? [George Caffentzis, ‘Lenin on the Production of Revolution’, in What is to be Done? Leninism, anti-Leninist Marxism and the question of revolution today, edited by Werner Bonefeld and Sergio Tischler (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2002), pp. 150-67]. Whilst he references Lenin’s assertion that ‘Without a revolutionary theory there can be no revolutionary movement’ (V.I. Lenin, What is To Be Done? Burning Questions of Our Movement [Peking: Foreign Languages Press, 1973], p. 28) the bulk of Caffentzis’ essay is in support of the need for structures that can bring together divergent struggles and class compositions: a ‘communicative model of revolutionary organization’ (George Caffentzis, ‘Lenin on the Production of Revolution’, p. 162). Caffentzis celebrates ‘Lenin’s insistence on the need for putting the proletarian body in touch with all its members, actions and powers, and his sober assessment of the need to have activists capable of outwitting a concerted police strategy of illusion-and ignorance-creation has even greater resonance today when revolution must be planetary or nothing’ (George Caffentzis, ‘Lenin on the Production of Revolution’, p. 166). [571] Silvia Federici and George Caffentzis, ‘Must We Rebuild Their Anthill’, in Silvia Federici; George Caffentzis; Daniel de Roulet; Anne Waldman; Sabu Kohso, Fukushima Mon Amour (Brookyln, NY: Autonomedia, 2011), p. 44. [572] Midnight Notes Collective, Strange Victories: The Anti-Nuclear Movement in the US and Europe (London: Elephant Editions, 1985), Midnight Notes Collective, ‘The New Enclosures’, in Midnight Oil: Work, Energy, War 1973-1992, edited by Midnight Notes Collective (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 1992), pp. 317-33. [573] ‘Strange Victories’ is credited as being written by p.m. in the edited volume of Midnight Notes essays entitled Midnight Oil yet was published earlier as being authored by the Midnight Notes Collective in an edition published by insurrectionary anarchist publishers Elephant Editions. As the latter is a longer and I think complete version of the essay this is the one I have cited here (Midnight Notes Collective, Strange Victories: The Anti-Nuclear Movement in the US and Europe, p.m., ‘Strange Victories’, in Midnight Oil: Work, Energy, War 1973-1992, edited by Midnight Notes Collective (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 1992). [574] Midnight Notes Collective, Strange Victories: The Anti-Nuclear Movement in the US and Europe, p. 23. [575] Midnight Notes Collective, ‘The New Enclosures’, pp. 330-1. [576] Ibid., p. 331. [577] David Riker, ‘The Struggle Against Enclosures in Jay, Maine: An account of the 1987-1988 strike against International Paper’, in Midnight Notes Collective (eds), The New Enclosures ( Jamaica Plain, MA: Midnight Notes, 1990), p. 51. [578] George Caffentzis, In Letters of Blood and Fire, p. 56. [579] Ibid., p. 11. [580] Ibid., pp. 11-19. [581] Ibid., p. 19. [582] Ibid., p. 20. [583] Ibid., pp. 20-1. [584] Karl Marx, Capital: A Critique of Political Economy, translated by Ben Fowkes, volume 1 (London, Penguin Classics, 1990). [585] Karl Marx, Capital, vol. 3. [586] Ibid., p. 281. [587] Ibid., p. 297. [588] George Caffentzis, ‘The Oil Paradox and the Labour Theory of Value’, Minnesota Review, 87 (2016), p. 164. [589] Karl Marx, Capital, vol. 3, p. 268. [590] I generally agree with I I Rubin’s description of this (Isaak Illich Rubin, Essays on Marx’s Theory of Value, translated by Milos Samardzija and Fredy Perlman, Montreal New York: Black Rose Books, 1990). Marx’s method proceeds from the concrete to the abstract to the concrete (Karl Marx, Grundrisse: Foundation of the Critique of Political Economy (Rough Draft), London, Penguin Books, 1993, pp. 100-1). His written presentation proceeds from the abstract to the concrete. Vol. III of Capital whilst still abstract from a real capitalist society is closer to it, showing the complexity of different forces operating as part of a dynamic totality. Vol. I, especially the opening chapters on the commodity and thus on value, present the basic cells of capitalism in laboratory conditions. [591] George Caffentzis, ‘Against Nuclear Exceptionalism with a Coda on the Commons and Nuclear Power.’ Crisis and Commons: PreFigurative Politics After Fukashima, Tokyo University of Foreign Studies, 2 December 2012, p. 3. [592] George Caffentzis, ‘The Oil Paradox and the Labour Theory of Value’. [593] Ibid., p. 163. [594] Ibid., p. 166. [595] Midnight Notes Collective, ‘Oil, Guns and Money’, in Midnight Oil: Work Energy, War 1973-1992, edited by Midnight Notes Collective (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 1992), pp. 3-22; Midnight Notes Collective, ‘Recolonizing the Oil Fields’, In Midnight Oil: Work, Energy, War 1973-1992, pp. 39-57. [596] Karl Marx, Capital, vol. 3, p. 298. [597] To reemphasise the creation of an average rate of profit in the mind of the economists or Marxists is not the same as the actual material tendencies of capitalism’s movement towards, and away from, an average rate of profit. [598] Tony Wood, David Blowers and Kate Griffiths, Next Generation: the long-term future of the National Electricity Market: 11. [599] Ibid., p. 16. [600] John Thwaites, Patricia Faulkner and Terry Mulder, Independent Review into the Electricity & Gas Retail Markets in Victoria, 2017, p. viii. [601] Tony Wood, David Blowers, and Greg Moran, Price Shock: Is the retail electricty market failing consumers? Grattan Institute, 2017, pp. 17-19. [602] Karl Marx, Capital, vol. 3, p. 286. [603] John Thwaites, Patricia Faulkner and Terry Mulder, Independent Review into the Electricity & Gas Retail Markets in Victoria, pp. 24-6. [604] Australian Bureau of Statistics, 6321.0.55.001 - Industrial Disputes, Australia, September 2016. Australian Bureau of Statistics (cited 1 December 2016). Available from [[http://www.abs.gov.au/ausstats/abs@.nsf/mf/6321.0.55.001?OpenDocument][www.abs.gov.au/ausstats/abs@.nsf/mf/6321.0.55.001?OpenDocument]]. [605] Midnight Notes Collective, ‘The New Enclosures’, p. 331. [606] Midnight Notes Collective and Friends, Promissory Notes: From Crisis to Commons, 2009, p. 5. Available from [[http://midnightnotes.org/Promissory][http://midnightnotes.org/Promissory]] Notes.pdf. [607] Department of Industry, Innovation and Science, Australian energy update 2016. Canberra: September, 2016, p. 3. [608] Australian Energy Market Operator, Update to Gas Statement of Opportunities, p. 4. [609] Gas Strategies, The outlook for LNG in 2016 - supply growth but where is the demand? Available from: [[http://www.gasstrategies.com/sites/default/files/download/outlook_for_][www.gasstrategies.com/sites/default/files/download/outlook_for_]] 2016_-_gas_strategies.pdf. [610] Australian Energy Market Operator, Update to Gas Statement of Opportunities. [611] Phillip Coorey and Angela Macdonald-Smith, ‘Gas truce puts states in firing line’, The Australian Financial Review, Thursday 28 September, 2017, pp. 1, 4, Nicole Hasham, States reject demands by Malcolm Turnbull for coal seam gas green light, 2017, Brisbane Times (Accessed 13 December 2017). Available from [[http://www.brisbanetimes][www.brisbanetimes]]. com.au/politics/victoria/states-reject-demands-by-malcolm-turnbull-for-coal- seam-gas-green-light-20171005-gyuv2t.html, Angela Macdonald-Smith, ‘Turnbull’s gas deal may change nothing’, The Australian Finanical Review, Thursday 28 September, 2017, p. 4. [612] George Caffentzis, In Letters of Blood and Fire, p. 57. ** 23. Commons at Midnight Olivier de Marcellus For me, the Midnight Notes Collective[613] has always had two great strengths. First, the capacity to discern a diversity of emerging struggles, the real movements of society, while more orthodox (not to say dogmatic), schools of thought were still blind to them. The Italian Autonomia movement already had this knack, and it has been a hallmark of Midnight Notes’ work, no doubt due also to its second strength: the original historical research which underpins their analysis of contemporary struggles. While always insisting on the workers’ role and initiative in shaping history, Midnight Notes pointed to the innumerable varieties of ‘workers’ and struggles in the world, liquidating the Eurocentric and messianic myths of the traditional Marxist narrative of history and revolution. Commoning has always been practiced and enclosure, domination and exploitation have always threatened. In this way, Midnight Notes saw the commonalities of the IMF riots long before the Zapatistas gave a conscious identity to the anti-globalisation movement. It celebrated feminist and peasant struggles, squatting or urban gardening decades before they were taken seriously by others, recognising that the revolutionary lead taken by the ‘workers of the earth and the human body ... as a sign of a deep recomposition of the working class internationally’.[614] Already in 1990 it had identified apparently separate phenomena as all part of the global process of new enclosures: peasants evicted from their livelihoods in China, Africa or Latin America, homeless in northern cities, victims of the (first) ‘Debt crisis’, the collapse of state socialism . and thus also gave a common ground to a diversity of resistances world-wide. With (too much) time, these perspectives have been more and more widely recognised. Most important perhaps, the commons, which was a quite exotic concept, is emerging everywhere as an essential alternative to the state/market dilemma. A recent example: Blockupy International’s call for an anti-G20 summit in Hamburg as a convergence of ‘struggles taking place already to defend the commons, social and civil rights’. Even in France the commons have become a central theme. Benjamin Coriat writes of le retour des com- muns,[615] and a recent presentation entitled Commun. Essai sur la revolution au XXI siecle,[616] underlines commoning as political activity. One could also cite the extraordinary success of a recent documentary film,Demain,which attracted by word of mouth more than a million people and has become a sort of popular reference. Although it did not use the term,the majority of the alternatives which it documented are commons of one sort or another. Of course this is not all due to the work of Midnight Notes. There has been an historical convergence of influences: the prominence taken since the Zapatistas by the struggles of indigenous communities in defence of traditional commons; resistances to new enclosures (of water,seeds,fish,DNA, the global quota of CO2,etc.) that illuminated a diversity of commons that had been taken for granted. Perhaps the very extremes of neoliberal individualism finally engendered a renewed appetite for cooperative activity! Nevertheless,the prescience of Midnight Notes enabled it to help name and give coherence to this diversity of practices and struggles. Activists’ interest in the commons is also stronger than ever in Europe because the inadequacy of traditional left perspectives are (finally) becoming tragically evident. After the collapse of socialism,the last illusions of social democracy have also been liquidated and the credibility of political parties and institutions as such is at an all-time low. And as explicitly anti-capitalist positions regain popularity,some reformist proponents of the commons dare imagine ‘A World Beyond State and Market’.[617] Better late than never! In reality,many progressive people had already instinctively drawn those conclusions. Some because they were dismayed not only by institutional politics,but also by the failure of popular mobilisations and resistances to alter the course of the neoliberal offensive. Others because they had a visceral instinct to create concrete alternatives,rather than to make demands on employers or the State. Typical of the squatting movement,many of them have since created commons of one sort or another. Can this kind of milieu also become a significant political force? Can the ‘alternatives’ and the ‘militants’ - back-biting cousins since 1968 - finally come back together? In France (and Geneva) a new network of local initiatives, Alternatiba,[618] has had some success banking on that hypothesis. A call,originating in the Pays Basque,proposed to mobilise on the issue of climate change by bringing together climate activists and every possible kind of local initiative - often commons of sorts - that could be considered positive for the climate (local agriculture, repair cafes, alternative energy and mobility projects,ecoconstruction,cooperative housing projects,alter- native health and culture, etc.). Conferences, films and debates on climate change were thus combined with a whole ‘village’ of alternatives occupying city streets. Alternatibas were organised in more than a hundred cities, and (people being much more interested in concrete proposals than political debate) attracted almost 600,000 people. Alternatiba’s struggle around climate change aims to ‘walk on two legs’, encouraging alternatives with one leg and organising non-violent civil disobedience with the other - a form of action which seems to me essential at this juncture for the climate movement. With its second leg it mobilised strongly around the international climate change talks, COP21, in Paris in 2015 and has been involved in a series of spectacular actions. The stretch between the legs is a little awkward and has led to some actions being delegated to its sister organisation, Action Non-Violente COP21 (ANV COP21), but both are powered by the same remarkable national network of young activists. They rather astound me by their combination of efficient methodology and horizontal practices, particularly concerning gender issues. Compared to the anti-globalisation generation - not to speak of the leftists of 1968! - the practice of commoning in grass-roots politics has most definitely improved, and that is certainly one of the most important reasons for hope! Organising Alternatiba Leman in Geneva, I saw the potential and also the difficulties of the project. A majority of the actors of the two hundred associations involved seemed to be convinced that capitalism is ‘heading us into the wall’, and see their activity as an alternative, although they don’t consider themselves activists or doing something political. But can Alternatiba become more than a convenient platform and bring them to appreciate their commonalities? Create a network of shared values and concrete exchanges that could constitute an overarching and more politically ambitious commons? (The ‘Leman’, a local electronic currency and credit system, launched during Alternatiba could be one material tool for that.) Time will tell, but experiences such as the Cooper- ativa Integral Catalana[619] keep us dreaming! And in the obviously totally ambiguous and limited context of Swiss capitalism, we must try to apply George’s criterion: ‘whether a particular commons increases the power of workers to resist capital and to define a non-capitalist future’.[620] Hopefully a little! For years, the movement has been in search of an alternative political vision. The one ‘No!’ and many ‘Yeses’ of the Zapatistas and People’s Global Action was not really sufficient. An ecosystem of commons as an alternative to (Welfare) State and market is a more substantive proposal. ‘Power to the Commons!’ Thanks to Silvia, George and others of Midnight Notes who have done so much to put the proposition back on the table! Yes but... ‘All power to the Commons?’ Sounds good ... but also rather utopian if we cannot say how they might get it! If you will allow me, I have some questions. I agree that it is through the commons and grass roots movements that real community and thus real social and political strength can be rebuilt. But can action on that level be sufficient? Can the world really be changed without taking power? Capitalism will not let itself be nudged off the scene by commoning. Nor does it even seem to show more than a marginal interest in co-opting it with a ‘commons fix’. Don’t we more generally see a head-on confrontation, in Africa, for example, with land-grabbing and Bill Gates’ grandiose plans for African agriculture? Or in the ambitions of the new wave of free trade treaties? Could a Neo-Keynesian Green New Deal still divert the neoliberal race to the bottom, as recent converts, like Lawrence Summers,[621] might suggest? But, as Promissory Notes pointed out, Roosevelt had organised labour behind him.[622] ‘Larry Summers and whose army?’ could force a deal on the colossal interests vested in the current course of disaster? *** Rising to the Question of Organisation Above all, what new forms of organisation does the withering away and betrayals of the old left and worker’s organisations leave in the field? Myriads of autonomous initiatives and networks and a potential for periodic swarming. But is that enough? The swarms of the anti-globalisation movement finally stalled WTO. Lately, resistance to the TAFTA and TISA free trade proposals has involved hundreds of thousands of demonstrators, millions of signatures, dozens of cities declared TAFTA free... but on the institutional level it is Trump and Marine Le Pen who are cashing in. What is it that we have failed to understand and practice concerning the relation between grass roots struggles and institutional politics? In past decades, autonomist politics contented itself with insisting on the - effectively essential - role of social movements and grassroots political activity; and criticising - totally correctly - the forms and practices of political parties and institutions. But even at the time, this avoided genuinely addressing the whole picture, as in reality our victories could only be given some permanence and solidity through their ‘recuperation’ by these institutions. The popular power generated by wildcat strikes, squats and popular resistances would have lost steam without those concessions. And indeed it quite generally did, when it started to come up against hard line austerity neoliberalism.[623] Today, the depth of the capitalist crisis, the dissolution of reformist institutions, the rise of the extreme right, but also the huge potential of subversive disaffection and rage - Que se vayan todos! - put us (happily?) in another situation, in which we must take the responsibility of finding new answers to the question of State power and institutions. Globalisation has not reduced the strategic importance of states. As George pointed out in 2009, stronger states (China for instance) seem actually to be winning out.[624] Rather, globalisation is a strategy of states. Defeating that strategy and submitting ‘the economy’ to society requires some form of political strength at what remains its key locus: the national state level. What have we learned in recent years to enable us to avoid falling into the old institutional traps? In Latin America, the social movements of Ecuador and Bolivia long avoided all involvement with parties and government, limiting themselves to building grassroots strength and blocking the attacks of the State. Circumstances forced them further after having brought down successive governments, and faced them with the choice between taking power or letting new neoliberal puppets install themselves. In power, the left did not only redistribute. Part of its policies were designed to empower or create new commons. Chavez launched a programme for the creation of cooperatives, and favoured the creation of a whole network of independent local radios, for example. In Brazil, the campaign against hunger was implemented by supplying school lunches through small scale local agriculture. In Argentina, public policies favoured the emergence of a social economy sector. In Bolivia, the government organised the distribution of small farmers’ produce at affordable prices. With his ‘Communitarian socialism’,[625] Alvaro Linera theorises a process by which the ‘illusory’ commons monopolised by a minority in the old State could be progressively reclaimed by organisations and communities, and by which representative democracy could give way to a more direct variety. The acid test will be to see what resilience these first steps provide to societies again subjected to right wing rule. Whatever the immediate outcomes, the long-term objective Linera outlines re-joins other visions of the commons. The differences in strategy seem to be the fruit of very different situations. The Zapatistas ‘separatist’ option constructing a local alternative to the State is no doubt in large part a function of the relation of forces at the national level. As for the European movements which Linera criticises for their long ‘abdication’ with respect to the question of State power, it seems as though that is beginning to be called into question. Of course, even when the left stays in power, its exercise also has its dangers and contradictions. Among them is the fact that the social progress these governments have brought can sometimes inordinately strengthen their hand in relation to the social movements that created them. Faced with government policies that in certain regions favour industrial export-oriented agriculture at their expense, an Ecuadorian peasant leader excused the passivity of their organisation, confiding to us, ‘We don’t really have the choice. Our base supports Correa!’ In Europe, Syriza betrayed the hopes of its supporters even quicker... Will the grassroots allow Podemos to do the same? There is perhaps more hope for Spain, as they have not put all their eggs in one national electoral basket. The movement of ‘rebel cities’ in particular is at least looking for some new answers. First, they attack State power from the local, municipal level. Second, while accepting the risk and difficulties of participating in their cities’ management, they share an ongoing debate around ‘munci- palism, self-government and counterpower’.[626] Clearly recognising that ‘State structures are designed to concentrate power and not distribute it,’ they seek simultaneously to impose real democratic participation ‘from outside’. The struggles for the re-municipalisation of water, against corruption, odious debt or expulsions are apparently led at once from ‘inside’ and ‘outside’. What forms of participation can guarantee a permanent popular mobilisation and control does not seem clear, but at least one lesson from social democracy seems to be heeded: never hand over your commons to a bureaucracy! One can hope that a new kind of ‘inside and outside’ political animal is evolving there, which will be able to address the levels and problems normally dealt with by parties; struggling in, against and through the State, without compromising the strength of the grassroots networks; with the horizontal practices and the new forms of participation offered by internet, among other tools. One can perhaps also draw hope from the proliferation of ‘participatory’ mechanisms peddled by the powers that be. They know a dangerous thing when they see it! Perhaps there are also lessons to be learned from Iceland where mass cacerolazos and popular referendums enforced a que vayan todos and blocked the bank bailout. It also initiated a promising experience of popular participation with a Constituent Assembly involving citizens chosen by lot, consensus decision making and participation by internet. *** A Common(s) Programme? One step towards organisation would perhaps be for the movement of movements (at whatever level) to go beyond the simple networking of diverse struggles, to explicitly recognise some common principles and general objectives, such as: relocalisation and subsidiarity; the need for more direct and participatory forms of democracy, or the impossibility of infinite growth on a limited planet. That society should control the economy rather than the reverse; reclaiming credit as a common good; maximising cooperation rather than competition. As Massimo De Angelis proposes, the commons could be a basis for ‘establishing a new political discourse that builds on and helps to articulate the many existing, often minor struggles, and recognises their power to overcome capitalist society’?[627] The idea of an emancipatory common program was revitalised in France through an appeal to resist neoliberalism, launched in 2004 by 13 veterans of the Resistance on the 60th anniversary of the publication of Les Jours Heureux by the Conseil National de la Resistance. Still clandestine, it had announced a program of ‘social and economic democracy’ including Social Security, worker’s power, and nationalisation of natural resources, credit, the major industries and services - ‘returning to the nation ... the fruits of the common efforts’. Last fall, a call using the same name by a hundred movement figures asked presidential candidates to respond to ‘10 essential measures’ such as: a constitution drawn up by citizens chosen by lot (which should include the crime of ecocide and the rights of Nature); a maximum 20 to 1 salary spread in an enterprise; withdrawal from free trade treaties in favour of a ‘just trade’ proposal; ‘democratic governance’ of banks to deal with tax evasion, speculation and the debt; phasing out industrial agriculture... The idea - more or less successful - was also to generate popular participation in the debate and pressure the candidates to at least address the real issues. Melenchon’s electoral programme ‘L’avenir en commun’ has attracted more attention. Also, a collective effort, its 83 points go from general principles to proposed measures on practically every political issue. Positing the ecological transition and social justice as the objective, and developing the necessary means: changing or leaving the EU treaties, audit of public debt, replacing free trade by a ‘protectionnisme solidaire’ inspired by the Havana Charter of 1944, limiting stock holders’ rights, increasing workers’ minimum and maximum wages, revocable political mandates, development of the social economy and defence of the commons... Certain key measures, attacked as unrealistic - loans to the State directly from a reclaimed national bank, control of capital flows or reintroduction of protective tariffs, for example - have been successfully practiced in Iceland or Ecuador?[628] It is a credible Neo-Keynesian proposal to put a limit to EU neoliberalism and face the social and environmental challenges. Hopefully the enthusiasm generated (more than a hundred thousand at the latest rally) will survive the election campaign. With a thousand local groups, 300,000 members and a strong programme it could take real roots. In any case, it’s an interesting educational tool - and a change from slogans and baby-kissing.[629] Well, France - with its centralised tradition and much weaker movements - is no doubt less avant-garde than Spain, but on an ideological level, the mere fact that these ideas enter into the electoral debate is a good sign of the times (like Bernie Sanders using the word socialism in the United States) And a simple return to party politics may be an inadequate answer - but its answering a good question! *** Organising Globally? The larger the social organisation, the greater the likelihood that its ‘coordination’ gives rise to domination. When capital manoeuvres at the global level, can cooperation - commoning - reach that high? Utopian? But can we afford not to try? As Promissory Notes remind us, capital knows how to manage - or even pre-empt - its crises. Worse, it now also openly organises pre-emptive revolt with its ‘Colour Revolution’ techniques.[630] If we don’t organise things, they will! In the heady beginnings of the anti-globalisation movement with Peoples’ Global Action, some already felt our communications to be the first stirrings of a sort of ‘global brain’. Since then the historic wave of insurrections of the Arab Spring, Greece, M15, Occupy, etc., dwarfed global days of action and made global revolution seem imaginable... Could the ‘Chomeurs Diplomes’ of the Magreb, and other armies of well-educated youth with no future under capitalism bring subversive commoning to a new level? Unfortunately, as Promissory Notes had foreseen, new levels of violence and war have beaten back that offensive almost everywhere since. The ‘War on terrorism’ has created hundreds of thousands of refugees, and fertile ground for racism and the extreme right all over Europe. The ‘banality of evil’ gains ground every day. Marine Le Pen could well join Trump this year. In Latin America, soft coups have rolled back the wave of progressive governments. Sisyphus is at the bottom again, while social and environmental catastrophes develop so rapidly! Can a more effective form of global networking bounce back to challenge capital globally? The mobilisation for the COP21 in Paris seemed promising, with its general consensus for mass civil disobedience and a convergence towards an anti-systemic analysis of climate, agriculture and trade issues posing for some the possibility/necessity of a more ambitious, global anti-capitalist network and program. But the socialist government’s use of ‘terrorism’ and tight media control effectively blocked the hoped-for ‘climate Seattle’. Our comrade Ramon Duran foresaw a breakup of globalised capitalism, an era of increasingly competing (and authoritarian) capitalist blocs that would themselves implode some time toward 2030 under the combined pressure of energy shortages, environmental collapse and climate change.[631] Although Ramon may have exaggerated the imminence of peak oil, environmental collapse and climate change are accelerating faster than anticipated.[632] And it looks indeed as though globalised capitalism may be not only fissuring politically, but also receding economically. In recent years multinational firms are making fewer profits, have expanded more slowly than their domestic peers, and are running into increasing political difficul- ties.[633] Trump is only an ugly sign of the times. Ramon thought that only after this epochal civilisational collapse (if we have meanwhile done our homework!) would an alternative have a chance to impose itself.[634] But what will be the state of humanity and the planet by then? The Zapatistas who summarised their strategy in the single word Une autre fin du monde estpossible’ - graffiti from the recent Labour Law mobilisation in France. Or...? ‘The light you see at the end of the tunnel is probably the headlight of an approaching train!’ - Zizek [613] I could have said ‘Silvia and George’ instead of ‘Midnight Notes’ in various places in this text, but referring to the collective creation of which they have been the heart is perhaps an even better way of recognising their contributions to the common undertaking. [614] Midnight Notes, Auroras of the Zapatistas: Local and Global Struggles of the Fourth World War (Brooklyn, NY: Autonomedia, 2001), p. 11. [615] Coriat, B. (dir.) (2015), Le Retour des communs. La crise de l’ideologieproprietaire, Paris: Editions Les liens qui liberent, 2015. [616] P. Dardot and C. Laval), Commun: Essai sur la revolution au XXIe siecle (Paris: E.ditions La D.couverte, 2015). [617] D. Bollier and S. Helfrich (eds) The Wealth of the Commons: a world beyond market and State (Amherst, MA: Levellers Press, 2012). [618] [[http://www.alternatiba.eu][www.alternatiba.eu]]. [619] [[https://cooperativa.cat/es/][https://cooperativa.cat/es/]] (last accessed 6 March 2019). [620] George Caffentzis, ‘A tale of two conferences: globalization, the crisis of neoliberalism and question of the commons’, The Commoner (‘other articles in common’, 2004). [621] L.H. Summers and E. Balls, Report of the Commission on Inclusive Prosperity, Center for American Progress, January 2015. At [[https://cdn.americanprogress.org/][https://cdn.americanprogress.org/]] wp-content/uploads/2015/01/IPC-PDF-full.pdf (last accessed 6 March 2019). [622] Midnight Notes Collective and Friends, Promissory Notes: From Crisis to Commons, 2009, p. 5. Available from [[http://midnightnotes.org/Promissory][http://midnightnotes.org/Promissory]] Notes.pdf. [623] Looking back, I find it very humbling to compare our generation’s trajectory with that of the pre-war working class, which advanced answers - whatever their shortcomings - at all levels: powerful unions; the commoning of mutual organisations for health, unemployment, etc.; mass political parties; community organising (in Geneva, Boy Scouts, sewing circles, a whole football league, etc., were organised within the communist party community!). [624] Caffentzis, ‘Notes on the Financial Crisis’, in Team Colors (eds) Uses of a Whirlwind: Movement, Movements, and Contemporary Radical Currents in the United States (Baltimore: AK Press, 2010); republished in In Letters of Blood and Fire: Work, Machines, and the Crisis of Capitalism (Oakland CA: PM Press, 2013), pp. 241-51. [625] Alvaro Garda Linera, Socialismo comunitario: Un horizonte de epoca (2015); at [[http://www.vicepresidencia.gob.bo/IMG/pdf/socialismo_comunitario-2.pdf][www.vicepresidencia.gob.bo/IMG/pdf/socialismo_comunitario-2.pdf]] (last accessed 6 March 2019). [626] See, e.g. [[http://mac2.uno/en/ejes-de-trabajo/][http://mac2.uno/en/ejes-de-trabajo/]] (last accessed 6 March 2019). [627] ‘On the Commons: A Public Interview with Massimo De Angelis and Stavros Stavrides’, e-flux Journal 17 (June 2010); at [[http://www.e-flux.com/journal/17/67351/][www.e-flux.com/journal/17/67351/]] on-the-commons-a-public-interview-with-massimo-de-angelis-and-stavros- stavride (last accessed 6 March 2019). [628] Mark Weisbrot, ‘Ecuador’s left-wing success story’, The Nation, 14 February 2017; at [[http://www.thenation.com/article/ecuadors-left-wing-success-story/][www.thenation.com/article/ecuadors-left-wing-success-story/]] (last accessed 6 March 2019). [629] Melenchon’s programme: [[https://avenirencommun.fr/avenir-en-commun/][https://avenirencommun.fr/avenir-en-commun/]] (last accessed 6 March 2019). [630] PONARS Eurasia, After the Color Revolutions: Political Change and Democracy Promotion in Eurasia, July 2010; at [[http://www.ponarseurasia.org/sites/][http://www.ponarseurasia.org/sites/]] default/files/policy-perspectives-pdf/PONARS%20Eurasia_After%20the%20 Color%20Revolutions_0.pdf [631] Ramon Fernandez Duran, The Breakdown of Global Capitalism: 2000-2030 (May 2012); at [[https://corporateeurope.org/sites/default/files/attachments/][https://corporateeurope.org/sites/default/files/attachments/]] breakdown_capitalism_final.pdf. [632] The sudden collapse of the marine ecosystems could well be one of the nastiest surprises. [633] ‘The retreat of the global economy’, The Economist, 28 January 2017; at www. economist.com/news/briefing/21715653-biggest-business-idea-past-three- decades-deep-trouble-retreat-global (last accessed 6 March 2019). [634] ‘Everything indicates that the degrowth between now and 2030 will be chaotic, not ordered and just. Nevertheless, it is essential to cultivate and reinforce the seeds of an ordered, just and sustainable transformation, even in a totally adverse environment, in order to later fortify and generate sufficient critical mass so that the reverse can become true, in future times’, Duran, The Breakdown of Global Capitalism, p. 28.
Dear comrades, We are writing to express to you our solidarity at a time when the pain for those who have died or have disappeared is still raw, and the task of reshaping of life out of the immense wreckage caused by the earthquake, the tsunami and the nuclear reactor meltdowns must appear unimaginable. We also write to think together with you what this moment marked by the most horrific nuclear disaster yet in history signifies for our future, for the politics of anti-capitalist social movements, as well as the fundamentals of everyday reproduction.Care. Love. Trust. Affect. These feelings are rarely talked about - and yet they are at the heart of so many people’s experiences in movements.[637] Their presence or absence can explain why people become involved, why they remain involved and why they may drop out. Here I do mean at the heart, thinking of the heart as the muscle it is, needing to be worked - else it atrophies. Locating it as the Zapatistas do when they describe their forms of organising as, ‘from below and to the left, where the heart resides’. Social movement theorists and activists speak and write often of the political and economic motivations for movement participation, and even of negative emotions, such as anger and rage. But while the importance of social relationships once in movement has been increasingly discussed over the past decades, there is still a general shying away from topics of love and care, trust and support. This misses so much! It ignores emotions or feelings - affects - that influence our day-to-day organising and inform our very desire to make new worlds. Of course the reason for militant organising is not to help the individual organiser ‘feel good’. Nevertheless, most of us find that being involved in collective struggle changes how we feel for the better - it makes us feel more confident, more powerful, happier. We neglect these apparently ‘subjective’ factors - along with questions of how we treat one another, how we care, or do not care, for our comrades - at our peril. We can too quickly fall into the politics of ‘after the revolution’. After the revolution we will be ‘free’ to address and change our feelings and relationships. Let’s change the structures of power and then women can throw off the oppressions of patriarchy. Once we have abolished capitalism then workers can claim their dignity. And so on. This is not about overemphasising the individual and their feelings, but about shining light on the importance of the subjective, addressing it together with the structural, so as to prefigure the world we are trying to create - striving to create the future in the present. George and Silvia encapsulate this approach - and they thus inspire me deeply. Their theories of the ‘larger structures’ of patriarchy and capitalism are powerful tools - gifts to social movements. Yet they are also able focus on individual humans, with care, with patience and with love. And it is through - or partly through - this focus on the individual that their theories of change emerge. In this sense, their theoretical work is intimately and completely intertwined with their acts, and these acts grounded in care at every level. *** Assemblies and Relationships Revolution in Tunisia and uprising in Egypt; Occupy Wall Street in the United States; the 15M movement in Spain and Nuit Debout in Paris. These recent direct democracy and direct-action-based movements - and others - have made one of their primary foci the changing of social relations - creating democratic and care-based relationships in the present - while at the same time organising for a different type of society. These movements all used direct democracy over representation, they prioritised direct action over demands, and they took the time to make sure all who wanted to participate were able to do so, often with long and sometimes unwieldy assemblies. Rather than pushing through to an end goal as fast as possible, these movements understood process as central to whatever goals were ultimately decided. As part of this, these movements also immediately organised caucuses or working groups based on gender, race, sexual orientation and legal status - striving to ensure that all voices were heard as equally as possible. Each plaza occupation also facilitated different forms of mediation for conflict, appointed ‘peace keepers’ (or some other form of security) and set up medical and legal groups. The aim was to help participants feel as supported as possible in the process of organising - but these were also attempts to create alternative societies, where care for the other was manifest in the present. The conflict-resolution groupings were new, and faulty, but they were part of a broader path towards the creation of new worlds - as I will discuss later on, in the section on alternative adjudication. There are numerous historical examples of movements that prioritise social relationships and care-based organising, and the focus on means as inseparable from ends has been seen most notably over the past twenty years. Examples include the Zapatistas in Chiapas Mexico, autonomous Cantons in Rojava, post-2001 horizontal movements in Argentina and the contemporary Movements of the Squares, among many others. What makes these movements particularly novel is their scale: they combine large numbers of people, from different backgrounds, and span diverse geographical spaces. Taken as a whole this is a new phenomenon that represents a break from prior forms of organising. Another area of novelty is the priority on prefigurative politics, specifically the centering of individuals’ voices, subjectivities and feelings. This focus is key. When a participant is taken seriously, when they are heard and feel heard - perhaps for the first time in their lives - they begin to feel like a subject, an actor in their own life. This affect can engender a newfound sense of dignity which, in turn, encourages greater participation in assemblies and subsequent actions. The circle is thus a virtuous one and self-reinforcing. Taken together, these affects help create an environment that is more welcoming and open, thus increasing the likelihood that participants remain involved longer and are willing to risk more together. Yet the opposite is also true. People who feel more open are usually more vulnerable too. In particular they can be more vulnerable to feelings of betrayal and there is a greater risk of their leaving movements because of emotions. For love to flourish then, there must be affective conflict resolution. Two of the more advanced social movements are those of the Zapatistas in Chiapas, Mexico and that which created the autonomous cantons of Rojava, in the north of Syria. Both have grounded their practice and the construction of their now self-governing societies in attention to care, which has included the development of alternative forms of adjudication. They are not about avoiding conflict - avoiding difficult discussions or disagreements. But when disagreement leads to division, or when harm is done, they are dedicated to resolving these harms and conflicts collectively. Conflict resolution is accomplished differently in the different locations, for both Zapatistas and revolutionaries of Rojava this is an essential part of the new society - not one that can wait until after the construction of autonomy. *** New People - New Women and Girls Unlike Spaniards or the Argentines, the Zapatista movement generally does not use the language of affect. But they do place at the core of their organising the importance of the participation of all people in the communities and they also reflect on changed subjectivities and new dignities based on this participation. Although a large literature exists on the Zapatistas, little of it addresses the role of emotion in participation. But when we reflect on the importance to the construction of new societies of assemblies and community participation and, in particular, on the role of women and young girls, it is impossible not to speak of emotion. The Zapatistas rose up in 1994 - 25 years ago. There is now an entirely new generation who have been born and grown up under these (evolving) processes: new people have been created - and have created themselves! This creation has been grounded in care, structures of community agreements and processes of collective conflict-resolution. In 2008 I participated in the First Zapatista Women’s Encentro, which took place in the autonomous community of La Garrucha, Chiapas. There I witnessed this creation first hand: of new people and, in particular, of new girls and women. There were several days of testimonies by women, older women, from the different communities. Each was powerful in its own way. These women told the stories of their transformation from servitude to militancy, from forced marriage to autonomy, from illiteracy to teaching, from exclusion to being part of ‘good government’. As these women shared their personal and collective stories, the transformation of the society could be felt with their words. These were words spoken in Spanish, often a second or third language, and, not used to public speaking, and still held by the culture of demure demeanors, most listeners had to strain to hear the women’s voices, even with the amplified sound. But it was a huge step that these stories were being told at all. Then Marialinda, nine years old, took the stage. A voice came over the sound system that was at once loud and youthful. Her voice did not falter as the older women’s had. She not only spoke clearly, but looked up, at the hundreds of people in the room, meeting their eyes. Marialinda began,
I’m going to tell you about my own life and about my rights. As a girl I have the right to do all the things that I want to do. My parents have given me the right to study in the autonomous schools, so that I can learn. They’ve givenme the right to go out, to play, to sing and to dance because I think it’s necessary to have fun. People applauded at almost every sentence and laughed at the part about having fun. It was all true, but it was said in such a way and with such clarity and self-assurance, that the words took on their meaning in a fresh way. The Zapatistas had created the next generation - and it was beautiful. Powerful. Free. And in less than 15 years. *** Peace and Consensus More than seven thousand miles away, in Northern Syria, an autonomous community, not unlike the Zapatistas, has been growing since 2012.[638] Initiated by the Kurdish freedom movement, this community is now comprised of several million people and is open to all people from the region who wish to come and participate. This includes war victims and refugees, particularly women fleeing the Islamic State. The territory is called Rojava and is made up of three Cantons and a number of affiliated autonomous communities, each with their own local autonomy, but connected to the overall system of municipal governance. Inspired in part by libertarian municipalism - Murray Bookchin’s work has been influential - yet made and grounded by the Kurdish freedom struggle, this struggle shifted away from building a party and instead focused on the development of local autonomy and direct democracy. Women have been at forefront of this struggle and every aspect of society must have gender parity. This is not merely symbolic, nor is it only a goal to be striven towards. If any given group or body does not have the necessary gender balance, meaning at least half of its members being women, then the group or body and its decisions are not considered legitimate. The result is that at each and every level of governance, adjudication, education and the economy women are leading participants and decision-makers. Moreover - and as evidenced by the many images depicting women with guns - women are a crucial part of the defense of the region. In fact, women’s battalions have been some of the most successful units fighting against the Islamic State. We must pause here a moment, and reflect on what’s happening here in the borderlands of northern Syria (and southern Turkey), as well as in the highlands of Mexico. These are two of the places where women have been most systematically and culturally oppressed. Yet now it is women who are leading and facilitating the most inspiring and prefigurative societies in the world. This phenomenon of women’s leadership - along with the subsequent backlashing reaction, mostly from outside in these two cases - is one that Silvia addresses in much of her work and political action. From the now renowned Caliban and the Witch, to her more recent Witches, WitchHunting and Women and Re-Enchanting the World: Feminism and the Politics of the Commons. Rojava now has an elaborate system of justice in place. This even includes a university to train people in the process, although its curriculum is constantly evolving along with the justice system itself. At the heart of this new system are Peace and Consensus Committees, which in fact have existed in nascent form in many Kurdish communities since the early 1990s if not before. As with so many processes around the globe that seek justice and attempt to heal harm, they were and are led and facilitated largely by women. As with the Zapatistas, communities are self-governing and avoid institutional and state judiciaries. They have thus had to recreate the meaning and practice of justice. Each Peace and Consensus Committee (PCC) is a small group, of between five and nine people, nominated by the People’s Councils. As with other formal areas of social organisation, gender parity is enforced. Each commune is comprised of approximately 300 people - between 30 and 150 families or households. Roughly 4000 communes combine to form a district. Decisions at a higher level are made by a People’s Council, comprised of two elected co-presidents from each commune. When conflicts arise the PCC intervenes to facilitate a resolution, where the goal is always to achieve consensus for both or all parties. The PCCs thus strive to create harmony - peace - within the community and society. They can convene anywhere, from organised meetings in a town or neighbourhood, to an impromptu street discussion. There is no explicit set of rules or way in which they must function. Rather the way that PCCs operate - always striving for consensus within their own operation as well as with ‘outside’ parties - has evolved over time. Each PCC follows a process that is unique - yet these processes have been learned and shared over the years, through a form of oral history. If a PCC cannot resolve any particular dispute, or if the offence is of a more serious sort, such as murder, then the issue goes to a higher level. In cases of forced marriage, dual marriages, patriarchal violence or any other instance of gender-related violence, the the case must be heard and resolved by the Yekitiya Star - the Star Union of Women - a specific all women’s Peace and Consensus Committee. In Rojava, the incidence of crime has declined and is continuing to decline. I have no doubt this is a consequence both of higher levels of self-organization and cooperation, and of the work of the PCCs. Affect and alternative justice complement one another. There is a virtuous circle, a spiral. As the sense of community and consensus develops, so there are more acts of solidarity and more acts of care. This, in turn, engenders the creation of more cooperatives and the expansion of collective and consensus decision-making processes, thus deepening the desire for yet more change, more profound consensus, more care, more justice. *** Affecting Conflict - the Future in the Present It is no coincidence that the largest and, in the case of the Zapatistas, longest, experiences of self-organisation, autonomy and horizontality both place such importance on care, mutual trust and effective conflict-resolution. Affect and conflict go together. We can only deepen and expand our care for one another if we also have practices to address conflict, minimise harm and heal injury. In the case of both Zapatistas and Rojava, the militants who contrasted these autonomous societies starting developing and experimenting with such tools well before they were able to claim the physical geographic regions. In this sense, they started with the heart, they started with affect. This was part of the prefiguration; resolving harm was part of the revolution, not something to be left for after the revolution... ... or the strike or the occupation. George and Silvia are not Zapatistas or revolutionary Rojavans - except, of course, in the sense that we are all Zapatistas. But nevertheless, they have led in this capacity. Over the past two decades, global movements have increasingly focused on social relationships - on the process of organising - not just the ends desired. Assemblies are at the core of many movements and the language of prefiguration - manifesting aspects of the desired future in the present - is central. Many of these movements are located in Latin America and southern Europe, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence that these are the places Silvia and George have chosen to spend so much time. They have played a crucial role in sharing experiences and circulating struggles, human conduits of theory and practice. Not only are they collaborators in the plotting of future plans and paths, but they involve themselves in a way that is exemplary of the sorts of relationships we desire - full of trust, care and affect. Take Occupy Wall Street or Strike Debt!, two recent US-based movements George and Silvia were part of. I will not go into details here, but I participated with Silvia in one process of mediation, in which we met with different members of a dysfunctioning group, listening to the personal accounts of harm, helping individuals understand others’ point of view, helping the group and its members heal - and become functional again. We have all experienced groupings that have broken down and fallen apart through a lack of attention to harm, through a lack of care. Every body of human beings - from the smallest ‘affinity group’ to the largest ‘territory’ of rebellion or revolution - must face this issue - and keep facing it - if it is to survive and thrive. Revolutions always start small (although they can sometimes grow rapidly). Revolutions require patience. Not the ‘wait-until-after-the-revolution’ type of patience, but the patience to start small, to start with process. And then to build, sometimes painfully slowly, with small pieces of these affective foundations, infinitesimally small, but still there. We can learn and take inspiration from the Zapatistas - from nine- year-old Marialinda (who will now be an adult of 20) and from the other women (and men) who - by putting care at the heart of their practice - have recreated themselves as new girls, new women, new people. We can learn and take inspiration from the autonomous cantons of Rojava - from their Peace and Consensus Committees, as well as other organisational forms, and the women who have been so central in making their new society. And we can learn from and take inspiration from Silvia and George too. Not only for their ability to recognise and help us understand the significance of the ‘big’ acts - the Zapatistas’ revolution or the Rojavan, say. But also, and perhaps more importantly, for their ability to recognise that a ‘small’ act of mediation amongst a handful of disaffected activists in central Manhattan is no less important, no less revolutionary. And not only to recognise this truth. But to be the people who step forward - with care and with love - to help perform the act themselves, to help heal the harm, practise the affect. [635] Todo Somos Japon means ‘we are all Japan’: it borrows from the Zapatistas’ ‘we are all Zapatistas’, ‘we are all Marcos’ and ‘we are all one another and the other is us’. [636] This letter is from Jfissures - a website in Japanese and English that was among the many projects to emerge from Todos Somos Japon. The full text is here: https://jfissures.wordpress.com/2011/04/22/a-letter-from-silvia-federici-and-george-caffentzis/. [637] My use of affect comes from hearing it in the autonomous movements in Argentina post 2001, politica afectiva, and later in Spain in the PAH - the Platform of Mortgage Victims. It is not intended to engage with the growing body of literature on affect. Some of this does deal with feelings of care and love; other contributions are highly academicised conversations of a biological, philosophical and literary nature. I intend it as it sounds, using it to mean more than just love, but positive feelings more expansively as these relate to political motivations and expressions. [638] In 2012 the Syrian government withdrew from the region, however the development of autonomy and direct democracy had been ongoing for over a decade before then.