Reading of Arendt and Giovanni

Tilda Sutter

Professor Ellis Neyra

ENGL 320

November 16, 2024

Selamawit Terrefe, in her essay, “Death Rattles not Dashikis”, investigates Hannah Arendt’s assertions about the constitutional qualities of humanness – arguing that these requirements illuminate the paradoxical creation of nonbeings, the figure of the Slave. Terrefe references Arendt’s The Human Condition; below, I have expanded a passage Terrefe annotates, continuing to probe Arendt’s work within the context of Terrefe’s uncoverings.   

“Speech and action reveal this unique distinctness. Through them, men distinguish themselves instead of being merely distinct; they are the modes in which human beings appear to each other, not indeed as physical objects, but qua men. This appearance, as distinguished from mere bodily existence, rests on initiative, but it is an initiative from which no human being can refrain and still be human. This is true of no other activity in the vita activa. Men can very well live without laboring, they can force others to labor for them, and they can very well decide merely to use and enjoy the world of things without themselves adding a single useful object to it; the life of an exploiter or slaveholder and the life of a parasite may be unjust, but they certainly are human. A life without speech and without action, on the other hand – and this is the only way of life that in earnest has renounced all appearance and vanity in the biblical sense of the word – is literally dead to the world; it has ceased to be a human life because it is no longer lived among men” (Arendt, 176). 

Arendt traces the foundational quality of man as “speech and action”. These conditions allow men to “distinguish themselves” instead of being “merely distinct”; therefore, the conditio sine qua non of humanity is not a “[distinctness]”, but the ability to create this quality of distinctiveness, an ability to “distinguish [oneself]”. The inclusion of this “[mere]” distinction points to the possibility of a non-being; something that simultaneously belongs within the world of the “[distinguished]” yet is excluded from its capabilities. Similarly, her emphasis on the possibility of creating distinction, as the requirement of existence, reiterates her claims about “speech and action” – there is no obligation of creation within the world of beings, solely the ability, whether dormant or not, to generate. These inoperative beings are characterized as such, unlike the alluded to non-beings, who operate in a form of social death. 

This ability to  distinguish allows men to “appear to each other”, not as “physical objects” but as “qua men”. Without speech and action, within Arendt’s formulation, men are invisible. This invisibility is applied to her implicit creation of non-beings – those perpetually understood as obscure, unseeable, unknowable, never in existence at all. However, paradoxically, these non-beings seem to appear, solely as “physical objects”. The reference to a non-being that materializes as a “physical object” seems to be an unintentional illusion to the Middle Passage – Slaves, who while anthropomorphic, present as objects for the unending use of beings. These Slaves are excluded from appearing as “qua men”, lacking the prerequisite for representation – defined as speech and action. Slaves therefore occupy two irreconcilable modes of visibility; materializing as “physical objects” and simultaneously nothing at all. 

Arendt continues to write “this appearance, as distinguished from mere bodily existence”, unintentionally revealing the true conditio sine qua non of being, of life, of the World. Appearance, or being, is created through the “[distinction]” from “mere bodily existence”; life created from the inverted production of the Slave – the Slave as genesis for the Human. However, she continues to offer another origin for existence –“initiative”. Like her discussion of the qualities of speech and action, “initiative” does not require a completed operation for its application. Instead, it is a dormant prerequisite of all humans, creating a caste of humanity that is not contingent on action or success, but rather, a separation from the Slave. Similarly, “no human being can refrain” from initiative “and still be human”; another illusion to the paradoxical nonexistence of the figure of the Slave, defined here as those who “refrain” from initiative, and are therefore inhuman. Initiative is the sole requirement of inclusion within the “vita activa”, political life, or the World. 

Arendt continues with a list of actions characteristic of the human, yet none the conditio sine qua non of humanity itself; “Men can very well live without laboring, they can force others to labor for them, and they can very well decide merely to use and enjoy the world of things without themselves adding a single useful object to it”. Above, Arendt again revokes a foundational power from the work of “labor” and “adding” “useful [objects]” to the “world of things”, reiterating that only the basest form of initiative creates the category of a human – the generative conclusion to that quality is irrelevant. She invokes man’s ability to “force others to labor for them” – which while possibly alluding to a form of involuntary labor, does not refer to the enslavement of the Middle Passage. Crucially, those who are forced to labor are “others”, and therefore are beings included within the World, regardless of their different status. This position of the Other is distinct from that of the Slave – as the Slave, while constituted of and for the World, is not an existent member of it. However, Arendt’s assertion that men can “decide merely to use and enjoy the world of things” is where the position of the Slave is unearthed – Slaves are what are “merely [used]” and “[enjoyed]” within the “world of things”. This “use” is both physical and symbolic; the figure of the Slave functions as an endlessly plyable void for the world of beings. 

Arendt directly discusses a position of enslavement; “the life of an exploiter or slaveholder and the life of a parasite may be unjust, but they certainly are human”. Above, she reasserts the humanity of a “slaveholder”, a notable affirmation considering her inability to investigate the violences that create this category of being. This “slaveholder” is compared to a “parasite”; both reliant on the “[parasitic]” use of another form for their own existence – an apt but unintentional metaphor for the position of the Slave as genesis for that of man. 

Subsequently, Arendt reinstates her prerequisites for human existence; “a life without speech and without action, on the other hand… is literally dead to the world; it has ceased to be a human life because it is no longer lived among men”. Again, a “life without speech and without action” is defined as the position of the Slave – incapable of action due to its preordained natal alienation and noncontingent violences. Therefore, the Slave is “literally dead to the world”, nonexisting in a form of social death. This non-being does not “[live] among men”, as it does not meet the prerequisite qualities of appearance, defined earlier as speech and action.

Arendt’s formulation of the conditio sine qua non of humanity inadvertently reveals its founding genesis, the paradoxical, accompanying, inverted creation of the Slave. She outlines the conditions of this non-being, an inability to speak, act, or exist within the vita activa. These figures, therefore, are resigned to a perpetual, preordained social death – serving as the constituting force of the World and Being, yet excluded from both.  

Work Cited

Selamawit Terrefe. "Death Rattle Not Dashikis" Philosophy Today, vol. 64, no. 4, 2023, pp.

773-793

Giovanni, Nikki. "The Great Pax Whitie." Poetry Foundation,

https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48221/the-great-pax-whitie. Accessed 16 November 2024.

Arendt, Hannah. The Human Condition. 2nd ed., University of Chicago Press, 1998.

sketch.io

 this was made by the same people who made agar.io, slither.io.. etc. It's called sketch.io

Gheaus & Gender Identity

Cora-Louise Fleming-Benite

PHI 210 - Feminist Political Philosophy 

Anca Gheaus & Gender Identity 

In this paper, I present and argue against philosopher Anca Gheaus’ eliminativist theories on gender identity, presented in her paper “Feminism without “gender identity.”” Ultimately, Gheaus underestimates the extent to which people care about identity, which is evidenced in her inaccurate judgment of what is feasible and in her premature dismissal of the aspirational gender role theory of gender identity.

Gheaus’ Argument

To make her argument, Gheaus cites a definition of feminism that describes the feminist project’s aims as eliminating unjustified gender norms and mitigating, or compensating, the disadvantages generated by these norms. With these aims in mind, Gheaus explains, it is essential to distinguish between justified and unjustified gender norms, so as to determine which norms are to be eliminated. Gheaus defines gender roles as “comprehensive social roles that define, for their occupants, different virtues, vices, social rewards and sanctions, and set expectations about who should perform which kind of socially useful work” (37). She describes justified gender norms as ones that derive from facts about sexual characteristics– these are norms pertaining to, for instance, medical care. Gheaus proposes that, instead of referring to these as justified gender norms, we should instead call them “norms related to sexual characteristics.” 

Gheaus defines unjustified norms as “sui generis gender norms,” explaining that these norms categorize people into gender roles and define the content of these roles. Sui generis gender norms are understood to be bad for several reasons. Gheaus cites the feminist objections to sui generis gender norms, notably that such norms enforce different treatment of people based on their real or perceived male or female sexual characteristics. This differential creates expectations of what it means to be a “good female human being” or a “good male human being,” putting people in boxes and requiring that “our judgment of individuals’ virtues and vices be dependent on the gender role they occupy” (38), creating a double standard. Some norms license behavior that is morally wrong (eg. toxic masculinity), others make an asymmetrical demand for morally praiseworthy behavior (eg that a woman be nurturing, or a man protective), while others pertain to morally neutral behavior. 

Another feminist objection to sui generis gender norms is that they are inegalitarian, as they have, historically, unfairly hindered women: “Their access to important opportunities, their freedom from domination, marginalisation and exploitation, and often their very agency, safety and life have been compromised by gender norms” (38). 

Gheaus objects to viewing sui generis gender norms as wholly inegalitarian by presenting a final issue with these norms: they unnecessarily stunt individuals’ development. She distinguishes this issue with that of inequality in that these norms negatively impact everyone’s wellbeing, including that of men, meaning that “gender norms do not always, and therefore not necessarily, generate a unidirectional system of oppression of women in the service of men’s interests” (38). She concludes, therefore, that these norms are not objectionable because they are inegalitarian. Instead, she describes these norms as objectionable because they limit the development of all people, regardless of gender, preventing them from pursuing a good life free from arbitrary constraints. 

Gheaus also believes that gender identity should be abolished because there is no available definition of gender identity that fulfills every desiderata – features deemed important (outlined by trans writers as well) – of the term. Gheaus lists these desiderata saying that (1) the concept should vindicate trans people’s identification of their own identities, (2) the concept should allow for privileged access to one’s gender identity, (3) everyone should have a gender identity, (4) the concept should sit well with the claim that denying a person’s gender identity/misgendering them is a grave harm, (5) the concept should be such that people have a claim against others to respect gender identifications, and (6) it must sometimes be permissible for various institutions to require information about one’s gender identity. Gheaus then examines 6 different candidate concepts of gender identity: Gender identity1 as (lack of) conformity with behavior and dispositions typical of one’s sex, gender identity2 as (dis)comfort with one’s sexed body, gender identity3 as assigned gender role, gender identity4 as aspirational gender role, gender identity5 as internalised gender norms, and gender identity6 as endorsed gender norms. 

According to a fourth proposal, gender identity is defined as the gender norms that a person wishes that others applied to them – that is, one’s aspirational gender role. “Gender identity4 consists in identification with a social role, and maybe also with others who occupy that role,” (42) explains Gheaus. By this definition, people have authority of their own gender identity, thus fulfilling desiderata 2, as it allows for privileged access to one’s gender identity. Gender identity4 also provides a basis for the importance that trans women place on being included in women’s spaces. Gheaus also outlines several shortcomings for this concept of gender identity. Some people do not want any gender norms applied to them, meaning that some people would lack a gender identity, failing desiderata 3. Gheaus also objects to gender identity4 arguing that, since gender norms, which form the basis of gender roles, are unjustified, one cannot claim a right to a specific gender identity. Instead, we may have a general duty not to categorize others as either male or female. When someone consents to gendered treatment based on their aspirational gender role, this duty may not apply, and they may not be wronged. However, Gheaus argues “consent is insufficient to make the treatment permissible, if holding people to particular sets of unjustified gender norms reinforces the norms and therefore creates negative externalities” (42). Therefore, gender identity cannot justify a duty to treat individuals according to specific gender norms, which should be rejected altogether.

Gheaus addresses potential worries or objections with her view. The first objection Gheaus discusses is one she calls the “feasibility worry.” This objection argues that “the gender aspect of our identities is so foundational that we cannot navigate the social world without it” (46). Gheaus discusses Charlotte Witt’s view that “gender roles are the metaphysical unifier of our social identities and are therefore essential to them” (46), believing that all other aspects of social identity are secondary. This may mean that it would be impossible to make sense of the social world without gender roles. Gheaus counters this objection in two ways, first, by arguing that considering gender as a unifier for aspects of our social identities does not apply to any one aspect of our identity – saying that Witt’s view overstates the extent to which gender is in fact a unique unifier. Gheaus argues that gender may not always be the most important aspect of a person's identity, as its relevance is context-dependent. Using the example of Ana, a Russian serf, Gheaus suggests that different parts of Ana’s identity—being a woman, a serf, or Russian—are emphasized depending on the social situation. To her fellow peasants, she is primarily a woman, to the landowners, a serf, and to people in a foreign country, a Russian. 

Gheaus also counters the feasibility worry by citing historical examples of other identities that were once believed to be essential for understanding and organizing perceptions of the social world, have diminished or become less significant over time (counter 2). Around two hundred years ago, Gheaus explains, many Europeans viewed “nationality” as the primary identity category – or at least one of the most central identity categories. Today, though, we are more easily able to perceive people without relying on nationality. “Possibly the same will be true one day of gender identities,” (47) resolves Gheaus. 

Gheaus addresses a second potential objection, one she refers to as the “desirability worry.” That is to say, without an account of gender identity, therefore eliminating the possibility of clearly defining who is a woman and who is a man, feminism is unable to pursue its aims. “‘Feminism’ is most widely understood as a movement aiming to overcome the oppression of women,” (47) she explains. Readers may worry: without the ability to determine what is a woman, what will become of the feminist project? Gheaus counters this objection by proposing a different definition of feminism, one that doesn’t require agreement on what – or who – a woman is (counter 3). She defines the feminist project as “the elimination of gender norms and the mitigation or compensation of disadvantages generated by such norms” (48), allowing for the furthering of feminist aims without the reliance on concepts of gender identity. 

My Objections

I took issue with Gheaus’ objections to the aspirational gender role theory of gender identity (gender identity4). Gheaus makes a big empirical claim – that treating people, with their consent, according to their aspired gender role reinforces unjustified gender norms and thus creates negative externalities – without citing any evidence. Without substantiation, I find this argument difficult to accept. As Gheaus herself describes, gender identity4 succeeds in many ways in terms of trans inclusivity. Employing a concept of gender identity that is trans inclusive subverts traditional and restrictive notions of gender, therefore asserting that treating someone, with their consent, based on their aspired gender roles, does not necessarily propagate gender norms. Additionally, even if we were to accept Gheaus’ claim, she’s weighing larger social issues about the perception of gender above the personal wellbeing of trans people, which I feel that Gheaus does not have the authority to do, nor has she provided sufficient evidence to make me comfortable with this value judgment. 

I also believe that Gheaus fails to adequately address the feasibility worry. While she is right in that some social identities that were once central to our understanding of the social world have become more marginal, her counter remains largely unconvincing. Yes, in Europe of the 1700s, nationality was a central identity category, but so was gender. Gender cannot be compared to other identities because there has yet to be a historical period, in which it is ignored. It is not as though gender simply happens to be in favor as a method of social categorisation, one that will become marginal in the way that nationality did. Gender has always been central, perhaps anchoring other identities that are central – alongside gender – depending on the context. This also applies to Gheaus’ argument that there is no unique aspect of our identity, metaphysically unifying all of our social identities. It is true that some aspects of our identity are more or less salient depending on context, but gender is different from such aspects in that it remains relevant across contexts. If for instance, an individual immigrated, it is possible that their race or class may become more or less relevant than it was in their original context. In their new context, though, they would remain constrained, defined, or potentially liberated because of gender identity. They will still be subjected to gender norms, and while those may differ from context to context, they remain rooted in their gender identity, whether real or perceived. I accept that my point about the persistent relevance of gender would need far more evidence, and perhaps does not apply when discussing single gender spaces; it is not sufficient to object to Gheaus’ counter. Even so, if gender did become less central to our societal understanding of identity– just as nationality did– this would be a long process, not feasible in someone’s immediate lifetime. As gender remains central, people will continue to be subjected to gender norms. Our concept of gender identity provides a basis for efforts to mitigate this suffering, by, for instance, compelling individuals and institutions to use someone’s desired pronouns, or allowing trans people into gendered spaces, regardless of their sex or perceived gender; it is worth preserving. 

Word count: 1931

I pledge my honor that this paper represents my own work in accordance with University regulations /Cora-Louise Fleming-Benite/

Interrogating Booth's Concept of the Implied Author

B- paper, but it's been too long since I've posted on this blog so I'm posting this.

When viewers identify with a singular point of view or voice in a film, there is a potential for destructive misreadings and misinterpretations. I will outline how Booth addresses this problem by proposing the existence of an “implied author,” or creative center. I then argue that Wilson’s discussion of the theory of perceptual extension and his examination of Fritz Lang’s You Only Live Once disproves Booth’s concept of the implied author. 

1. Booth

As Booth explains, the case for a single creating author in films is very weak, as every film results from countless voices– including that of the script writer, director, producers, editors, actors, and that of chance, at times. Despite this multiplicity of voices, Booth argues, every successful film has an “implied author.” Booth describes this implied author as “a creative voice uniting all of the choices” (Booth 2002, 125). This voice will always differ from what any one member of the crew would have created, but still provides the viewer with a unified center. 

Booth explains that even in movies that are confusing, in which it may be hard to pick out a unified voice, the effect of the confusion is evidence that the confusion was deliberate, therefore that all of the voices and contributors to the movie have agreed to a single direction– that direction being, to confuse the viewer. 

Booth uses director Sam Mendes’ American Beauty to exemplify the need for, and the presence of, the implied author. From Allan Ball’s, the movie’s author, original script, the film seems to be a commentary on “‘how the world sucks’” (Booth 2002, 128). However, after the changes made, not only by the director, but by choices made by actors, cinematography, musical score, etc, the film’s actual theme is debated, and much harder to grasp. Booth says that misinterpretations of American Beauty result from an “uncritical identification with this or that explicit voice” (Booth 2002, 129), which might be, for instance, identification with one of the film’s characters. Booth says that such interpretations lack a search for the film’s slippery center, “a center where each voice is in effect criticized or modified by the other voices” (Booth 2002, 129). He explains that the center of a film as powerful as American Beauty cannot be adequately formulated with words but instead lies “in the creative energy that hundreds of people put into its production, agreeing and disagreeing, inserting and cutting” (Booth 2002, 129). 

2. Wilson 

 In his paper “Film, Perception, and Point of View,” philosopher George Wilson describes how point of view is determined and understood in film and how this impacts what exactly film represents, as it pertains to reality. Wilson examines what he calls the “theory of perceptual extension,” which explains that film presents or reveals things, events, or aspects of them that people often overlook or perceive without fully appreciating their potential human significance. This theory also says that film grants us perceptual access to patterns of sensible phenomena that hold natural significance, and that are rarely perceived in their entirety by individual observers. Film captures the entirety of these patterns, presenting them in a clear, structured way, making them accessible for continuous, conscious understanding. In doing so, film connects us to the perceptual foundations of the natural significance we attribute to the world around us. The theory of perceptual extension proposes that film allows us to pick out only the relevant phenomena and assemble them into a meaningful and unified pattern through the fictional world in which we are immersed, and through photographic and editing techniques that allow for a visual record of the fictional course of events.  

However, as Wilson points out (in describing Bazin’s view), the theory of perceptual extension requires a specific, analytical style of filmmaking to perform the aesthetic functions it describes. The style is intentionally crafted to reflect the theory’s assumptions. Bazin argues that these assumptions, and their corresponding style, are not essential for creating a successful and meaningful film. Analytical editing has the power to assign psychological meaning to an ambiguous facial expression, as proved by the Kuleshov experiment. This then means that, to preserve our perception of the expression’s ambiguity, perhaps analytical editing should be avoided. Just as the visual techniques of film have the power to extract real meaning that we might not otherwise recognize, it has the power to distort meaning, providing an inaccurate representation, assigning meaning to genuine ambiguity. Bazin therefore concludes that film does not make sense out of reality’s ambiguity, as the theory of perceptual extension might suggest, but simply reflects this ambiguity. 

A film can embody certain aesthetic assumptions while simultaneously subjecting them to critical scrutiny. To exemplify this, Wilson discusses Fritz Lang’s 1936 movie, You Only Live Once. In this film, viewers are at once subjected — thanks to narrative choices – to the ‘fictional society’ within the film’s biases. People view Eddie as guilty, perhaps unfairly. OK, so, in employing the theory of perceptual extension, one might interpret this film as clarifying a phenomenon that happens in reality: people unfairly being viewed as guilty, a phenomenon that we may not usually recognize, but are now able to thanks to the way in which the film extracts and presents patterns. The film complicates this, though, by excluding as much vital information as it includes. This is exemplified, for instance, when the bank robbery is shown; viewers are provided with specific details, in line with the usual analytic attention to specifics, but are prevented from seeing who exactly is committing the crime. This is not just for the sake of suspense and irony, Wilson continues, as the film signals much perceptual manipulation, questioning the reality of the information that is included. 

Ultimately, what Wilson’s analysis of You Only Live Once demonstrates, is that neither society – the one presented in the film – nor the viewer is in a position to know the truth about Eddie’s innocence or guilt. Both points of view are influenced by deliberate perceptual factors. This means that the suggested interpretation of narrative that we get from film can be false. 

While Wilson’s views seem to demonstrate Booth’s warning that viewing a film from one point of view or another can lead to severe misinterpretations, I believe that Wilson’s arguments undermine Booth’s concept of the implied author. There are two potential creative centers of the film, neither of which are abandoned so as to unite with the other. Both voices are distinct and neither are resolved, meaning that this film fails to present an implied author or unified voice. Lang’s film presents multiple equally valid interpretations, uses analytical style to both establish and undermine meaning, and resists resolving into any single “correct” reading. Booth may respond to this by saying that the film’s creative center is deliberate confusion, that “a group of voices have finally surrendered to one another in a single direction” (Booth 2002, 126), that singular direction being confusion. I think, however, that You Only Live Once does not demonstrate deliberate confusion, but genuine ambiguity. Neither point of view is surrendered or resolved. Both are carried through to the end. While deliberate ambiguity, perhaps like in the film Run Lola Run, as Booth says, has a unified purpose in making viewers feel uncertain, the genuine ambiguity Wilson presents questions the very possibility of unified purpose. Deliberate confusion can ultimately be understood as serving an artistic goal, whereas genuine ambiguity remains fundamentally unresolvable. 

Wilson shows that films can create multiple contradictory interpretations, undermine their own apparent messages, and question their own reliability as narrators. Under Wilson’s view, films can reflect the inherent uncertainty of perception rather than impose a unified vision, and Booth’s implied author view does. The potential for perceptual manipulation in film itself questions the possibility of unified authorial voice. Under Wilson’s interpretations, meaning emerges from the interaction between the viewer and film rather than from an implied center. This allows for the viewer to make the film, rather than simply the film making the viewer.