On Everyday Apocalypticism
February 1st, 2007
Views: 1661
Posted by ChrisG at 12:30 pm
This is excellent:
The future designated by the “unlessâ€, the future hoped for by the Western environmentalists and NGO workers of the 80s and 90s, cannot now come to pass. It “has already ended, and we are persisting in its degrading memory†– how many of the narcissistic disorders of our culture can be attributed to this awareness?
It’s no doubt true that this sense of the future is one that has been silently troubling industrialised societies for some decades. One of Ulrich Beck’s theses about the ‘risk society’ that he, Giddens and others had theorised in the mid-80s to early 90s was that a key aspect of the neo-liberal mode of production was ‘institutionalised irresponsibility’ in relation to the future. This in turn was probably inspired by Hans Jonas’ proposition towards the end of the 70s that the industrial use of technology put us in a new relationship with future generations, mediated by its exploitation of nature. Put simply, we had for the first time in human history the opportunity to ensure that there was ‘no future’ at all for any mode of being we might consider human.
Implicit in Jonas’ thesis is the idea that the reserve of natural value appropriated by Capital ‘free of charge’ (that is, without requiring the expenditure of labour in order to make it usable), nature stands in for future generations here in the present. The ceaseless consumption of non-renewable resources and destruction of species & habitats embodies a disconnection from our own futures, and a basic irresponsibility towards human potential which is embodied in our relationship with nature.
Implicit in Beck’s thesis is the idea that the emptying and wholesale exploitation of the future is a structural feature of capital. It is this that generates the sense of having participated in an apocalypse which one failed to notice. Capital does not just extract surplus value from the ongoing present by subjecting it to the repetitive cycles of production, but also extracts it from the living futures of potential embodied in nature. Capitalist production pulls futures into the present and uses them up, but in order to do this it vampirises the past becomings from out of which the world has congealed. The consumption of fossil fuels which have taken millions of years to reach their present state is one example, and the production of new technologies (such as genetic engineering) which utilise the evolved potential of natural forms to trigger, in one moment of transplantation (Virilio) a new living future of evolution which is uncontrolled and uncontrollable.
To extract value, capital must collapse, twist and turn inside out evolved temporal relationships – if the ‘exploitation of nature’ has a core meaning, this is probably it. The production of novelty and extraction of value from nature (and social labour) cannot happen without this form of increasingly reductive and invasive intervention. And the more reductive and invasive, the more this process implies within it the production of unpredictable consequences with long-term latency – e.g. the generation of nuclear waste or the evolutionary fates of transgenic organisms. The condition K-Punk describes in another excellent post as the backdrop of Children of Men is also a normalised function of industrial production:
What caused the catastrophe to occur, who knows; its cause lies long in the past, so absolutely detached from the present as to seem like the caprice of a malign being: a negative miracle, a malediction which no penitence can ameliorate.
The modern world rests on a slow churn of unfolding catastrophes (nuclear power, industrial synthetic chemicals, GM, nanotech), whose first waves are generally deflected by capitalism’s capacity for offloading externalities at the margins. But the aftershocks reach us, and trouble our certainties. And a growing wave of anger around the way globalisation intensifies this process is now undeniable, around about the same time as the main quakes themselves are beginning to reach us. The impossible quest to assign responsibility for the accumulation of PCBs or the degradation of soil fertility is an attempt to domesticate this sense of vast, slowly unfurling disaster within the public realm of legality. What is lacking is a way to acknowledge and work through these ‘narcissistic disorders’ of industrial production and consumption without remaining at this level – which would necessitate the quest for a genuinely future-oriented ethics, such as Jonas (and Guattari in Chaosmosis) demanded.
What might this mean? A first point to consider is perhaps the one made by K-Punk apropos T. S. Eliot:
The new defines itself in response to what is already established; at the same time, the established has to reconfigure itself in response to the new. Eliot’s claim was that the exhaustion of the future does not even leave us with the past.
The possibility of reconnecting with a future of human potential is the ground of responsibility – and this entails a sense that the future is the place where some of the things we care about will continue living and evolving (to care about tradition is to actively ensure that it will survive to be contested as tradition).



This is an excellent post. I particularly liked this passage, even if I would substitute, for capital, what Allan Schnaiberg calls the treadmill of production, which has been fundamentally the same in socialist and capitalist economies: “Implicit in Beck’s thesis is the idea that the emptying and wholesale exploitation of the future is a structural feature of capital. It is this that generates the sense of having participated in an apocalypse which one failed to notice. Capital does not just extract surplus value from the ongoing present by subjecting it to the repetitive cycles of production, but also extracts it from the living futures of potential embodied in nature.”
Of course, one would expect socialist economies, which postulate in their very origins capitalist societies, would continue the treadmill of production, but that labor might be able to reconfigure the discourse of social costs to include environmental costs. In the event, though, this has never happened – the treadmill goes forward inexorably, with even less attention paid to environmental costs (vide such things as the horror of the Aral Sea, the great state sponsored damming and irrigation projects, etc.).
Excellent post. Like roger, I too love the phrase “the sense of having participated in an apocalypse which one failed to notice”.
Mind you, while Jonas’ proposition that “we [have] for the first time in human history the opportunity to ensure that there was ‘no future’ at all for any mode of being we might consider human.” is strictly true (we could nuke the planet sterile or nanotech ourselves into gray goo); I suspect the future is still very much alive and well.
I don’t believe that any thinking person can examine modern civilisation and not believe that it is in serious trouble. But I think we are guilty of a certain undue egoism when we assume that humanity itself is in peril. I guess the realisation that our little species is having a significant affect on global climate makes the egoism comprehensible.
But our ancestors survived quite a few ice ages. And civilisations have always had a tendency to collapse after a while. This time round we’ll do it on a far larger scale than ever before and we’ll seriously degrade the planet’s ability to support life for a good while. But I don’t see why we shouldn’t assume that humanity still has a future, even if “humanity as we currently know it” doesn’t.
Thanks, Roger and Jim. As far as the question of environmental costs goes, I find Paul Burkett’s interpretation of Marx interesting – i.e., that the construction of value under capitalism (abstract labour-time as the form of value in general) already implies an abstract reduction of the real use-value of nature (or perhaps its constitutive value). The basic attitude to nature (and to other ‘given’ conditions of production, i.e. labour) under capitalism is extractive, and the metaphorical content of that term is vitally important. Capitalism expands production by continually snapping/dissolving the vital bonds between things. Really existing socialism has followed this extractive paradigm, but this is indeed because it has failed to be cooperative and to expand its vision of value in line with a cooperative paradigm.
As for the hubris reflected in Jonas’s comment, I think that it is important for the way it aims to focus our attention on the continuity between present and future generations. Sure, humanity as we currently know it might not have a future – but this humanity (and what we, for our sins, value in it) makes us care about what happens next, and later. The future tends (for us post-Enlightenment types) to appear so abstract and empty that the basic problem is how to care enough about it so that it actually forms a factor in our thinking and acting. Stressing different forms of continuity is a corrective to this tendency (see The Long Now , for instance).
[...] On Everday Apocalypticism over at Smokewriting… “the sense of having participated in an apocalypse which one failed to notice”. What a splendid turn of phrase. Rochenko’s post tackles some of the the same themes that David W. Kidner explores in Nature & Psyche: Radical Environmentalism and the Politics of Subjectivity (I imagine. I only started reading Kidner’s book today having been delayed by a pressing need to re-read Nineteen Eighty-Four). [...]
[...] On Everday Apocalypticism over at Smokewriting… “the sense of having participated in an apocalypse which one failed to noticeâ€. What a splendid turn of phrase. Rochenko’s post tackles some of the the same themes that David W. Kidner explores in Nature & Psyche: Radical Environmentalism and the Politics of Subjectivity (I imagine. I only started reading Kidner’s book today having been delayed by a pressing need to re-read Nineteen Eighty-Four). [...]