In his 1966 work The Order of Things, Michel Foucault describes in his preface a passage from Borges to establish his objective. Quoting Borges, who in turn refers to ‘a certain Chinese encyclopaedia’, the section describes a classification of animals as being ‘divided into: (a) belonging to the Emperor, (b) embalmed, (c) tame, (d) sucking pigs, (e) sirens, (f) fabulous, (g) stray dogs, (h) included in the present classification, (i) frenzied, (j) innumerable, (k) drawn with a very fine camelhair brush, (l) et cetera, (m) having just broken the water pitcher, (n) that from a long way off look like flies’. In a later lecture recalled by Laurie Taylor, Foucault lambasted the impulse to capture and mount every butterfly in a genus and lay them out on a table, to highlight minute differences in form and colour, as if trying to solve God’s puzzle.
Carl von Clausewitz, a Prussian military strategist who lived through the French Revolution, wrote in his unfinished book On War that ‘war is the continuation of politics by other means’. It is of course something of a trite aphorism, and hides a considerable amount of theory and philosophy. Yet as with all good aphorisms, it reveals something important: in this case, that the seeming differences between politics and war are not so significant as we had thought. Politics is about two sides negotiating the distribution of resources, sometimes along ideological lines, sometimes along economic lines; war is not all that different, save insofar as the rule of law is suspended, such as it may have existed before the outbreak of hostilities. Increasingly, we see sporting theatre being usurped for the purposes of political metaphor. The symbolism, and the language, is a kind of double speak that would be shocking in any other context, and useful for democracies, who don’t tend to actually fight each other.
The Guardian today ran an interesting selection of comments on ‘What if Women Ruled the World’? It is a fascinating question, though I suspect that such a violent reshaping of our reality would be accompanied not just by differences in approach and attitude, but vast psychological and systemic changes. The world, in effect, would be unrecognisable, our conscious modernity entirely smashed in favour of something new. There is value, of course, in the feminist critique of modernity. In many ways our world is delivering poor outcomes in terms of rights, inequality, and politics; feminist interrogation can highlight failings and help to address those areas, though the extreme object of the question in the Guardian piece doesn’t have a real grounding or reference point. Such would be the radical transformation in our world if women ruled, if men in power were a minority, if men, generally, were subjugated, that’s it’s difficult to find a logical point of comparison. This short post is a brief response to some of those comments from the Guardian piece.