Slavoj Zizek Met The Buddha On The Road, But Didn’t Kill Him Because He Looked Like Slavoj Zizek

With First As Tragedy, Then As Farce, Slavoj Zizek is at the peak of his considerable critical powers. Zizek’s thesis here is that 9/11, at the beginning of this inauspicious decade, and the ongoing global financial crisis at its end, together signify the twin deaths of liberal democracy as hegemonic paradigm. Zizek maintains that 9/11 marked the death of liberal democracy’s political supremacy, with the financial crisis finishing off its claim to transcendence in the economic sphere. Zizek’s next, more problematic maneuver is a call for a return to a re-imagined communism in response to the failures of liberal democracy and the lurch in which these failures have left us all.

Zizek’s greatest strength is the critical eye he brings to bear on the current state of affairs. The first half of First As Tragedy, Then As Farce sings as Zizek shreds the pieties of liberal democracy’s “cultural capitalism”. Zizek nails precisely how capitalism has masked itself culturally, posing as the antidote for the poison to be found in its very own nature: “Consumption is supposed to sustain the quality of life, its time should be ‘quality time’ – not the time of alienation, of imitating models imposed by society, of the fear of not being able to ‘keep up with the Joneses’, but the time of the authentic fulfillment of my true Self, of the sensuous play of experience, and of caring for others, through becoming involved in charity or ecology, etc.”

Zizek’s key insight is that however you dress up consumption, in order for capitalism, “cultural” or otherwise, to function, consumption must continue apace. Zizek sees the pseudo-transformation of consumption on display in the Starbucks “It’s not just what you’re buying. It’s what you’re buying into.” ad campaign: “The ‘cultural surplus’ is here spelled out: the price is higher than elsewhere since what you are really buying is the ‘coffee ethic’ which includes care for the environment, social responsibility towards the producers, plus a place where you yourself can participate in communal life…. And if this is not enough, if your ethical needs are still unsatisfied and you continue to worry about Third World misery, then there are additional products you can buy.” Taking Zizek’s insight to heart, one is reminded of President Bush’s exhortation of Americans to fulfill their civic duty by continuing to keep shopping after 9/11, and of President Obama’s recent statements to the effect that if Americans will only keep shopping the end of the recession is surely in sight. The truth grasped by Zizek is that be it tragic horror (9/11), economic meltdown, or crippling guilt due to “Third World misery”, capitalism, again “cultural” or otherwise, has reduced us to one response: Keep Shopping!

First As Tragedy, Then As Farce climaxes just past its mid-point , when Zizek takes us where this is all headed (a place where our current leadership dare not gaze, as they remain duty bound in their loyalty to liberal democracy, that spouse of capitalism, the vehicle transporting us exactly where Zizek points). Zizek describes “an apocalyptic end point: ecological breakdown, the biogenetic reduction of humans to manipulable machines, total digital control over our lives…. At all these levels, things are approaching a zero-point; ‘the end of times is near.’” One is forced to decide whether Zizek is yelling “Fire!” in a crowded movie theater or whether he is simply a reasonable pessimist. I know what vibe I am getting.

Having walked up to the abyss and peaked over, Zizek spends the rest of First As Tragedy, Then As Farce in an impassioned plea for a return to a re-imagined communism for the 21st century. Given the track record of “really existing socialism” in the 20th century, it is almost impossible not to dismiss this portion of the text as a manual on How To Make A Very Bad Situation Even Worse. But if you give Zizek the benefit of the doubt that a constructive re-imagining of communism is even possible, then one of Zizek’s throwaway lines reveals the limitations of Zizek’s strict materialist imagination.

The passage in question, a familiar refrain from Zizek’s prior work, is his evaluation of what he terms “Western Buddhism”. Zizek’s stance on Buddhism as practiced in the west is that “it enables you to fully participate in the frantic capitalist game while sustaining the perception that you are not really in it, that you are well aware how worthless the whole spectacle is, since what really matters is the peace of the inner Self to which you know you can always withdraw.” But one need only expose one’s self to such bestselling mainstream “Western Buddhist” authors as Pema Chodron to understand that the entire edifice of Buddhist dharma is intended to cultivate mindfulness, i.e. being fully present to the world and all its suffering. That Zizek’s caricature of “Western Buddhism” inverts the process of mindful awakening into a means of self-centered withdrawal, in effect accusing Buddhism of cultivating the very condition for which it is a cure, leaves Zizek’s painfully obvious reaction formation open to interpretation.

The bet here is that, on one level, Zizek is well aware of what the Buddhists are really on about; the Buddhists make no bones about their belief in the non-conceptual nature of being, that the utility of thinking has its limits, and that mindful awakening occurs only where thought intentionally leaves off. Zizek’s dust jackets proclaim that “he leaves no social or cultural phenomenon untheorized”, equating Zizek with infinite theory. Oft referred to as the “rock star” of critical theory, it should come as no surprise that Zizek’s narcissistic equilibrium rests on the public recognition of the potency and unlimited nature of his theory, of his thought. Buddhism, with its emphasis on the limitations of thought, says to Zizek that there is a limit to how far his thinking can take us, and that the most important steps, even and especially for Slavoj Zizek, must be taken without Slavoj Zizek. The Buddha has thus left Zizek with a gaping narcissistic wound.

On another level, Zizek’s dismissal of “Western Buddhism” highlights the great, lasting flaw of Marxist materialism. The religiously atheist Marxist lineage, of which Zizek is the current standard bearer, bets the house that human social relations can be arranged such that peace and justice will reign. But Zizek, who is as indebted to Freud as he is to Marx, would be wise to revisit Freud’s remarks on communism in Civilization and Its Discontents: “the psychological premises on which the system is based are an untenable illusion. In abolishing private property we deprive the human love of aggression of one of its instruments, certainly a strong one, though certainly not the strongest; but we have in no way altered the differences in power and influences which are misused by aggressiveness, nor have we altered anything in its nature. Aggressiveness was not created by property.” Never was uttered a more succinct explanation for the failure of “really existing socialism” in the 20th century. In whatever form Zizek re-imagines communism, he will have done nothing to alter the basic fact of human aggression, what Freud uncannily named our Death Instinct.

Only the world’s great religions, e.g. Buddhism, are equipped for the duel with the Death Instinct (Freud himself absented psychoanalysis from this epic duel with his belief that it’s utility was limited to tamping down neurosis into common every day misery; Freud’s atheism, shaping his disbelief in religion’s ability to pick up where psychoanalysis leaves off, marks him as one of history’s great pessimists). The frequent failures of religion are at their core no more than testimony to the power of the Death Instinct. It is the Death Instinct, not liberal democratic capitalism, that has brought this world to the brink of disaster. And it is only by connecting with something greater than the Death Instinct (something inside of us, outside of us, who anymore cares where this something resides?) that human civilization will outlast the century. If communism is indeed the answer, we will achieve that answer through (there is no other, less loaded word for it than) religion, including Buddhism. Zizek and his fellow travelers overlook the Buddha (and Christ, etc.) at everyone’s peril. Communism is fine just as it is, Mr. Zizek. Please help us re-imagine religion.

Portrait of a Lady by Henry James

James’ Portrait of a Lady brilliantly and tragically speaks to the seductive powers of the narcissist, and the vulnerability of the young idealist to those dark arts. In astonishingly elegant prose, James walks us through a trap that is all too familiar in contemporary pop culture; our current obsession with the banal comings and goings of celebrities and pseudo-celebrities reveals us to be under the same spell as that cast over Portrait of a Lady’s heroine, Isabel. James deftly portrays the risk inherent to Isabel’s youthful ambition to do something great with her life, as it leaves her vulnerable to her seducer Osmond’s narcissistic stance of standing outside and above. Our entanglement with narcissism, while similarly disabling, has darker roots. We feed the cult of celebrity out of a collective failure of the imagination, and it is into this void that the celebrity slides. When the only accomplishment left is fame, the narcissist is king at last. Portrait of a Lady rests on what Isabel would choose, once she realizes she has fallen under the dominion of the narcissist. Would that we could choose, so deep is our own devotion. If Portrait of a Lady is “a novel about dreams that do not come true”, as the afterword to my edition, penned by Stephen Koch, asserts, then our cultural narrative is about not having any dreams, except to be famous. James’ prose remains poignantly relevant, speaking to the lasting accomplishment of his art, and to our need to reclaim a desire to do something great, whatever the risk. Especially if the risk is that no one might notice.

A Survivor’s Guide to Swine Flu

As the days shorten and I put my pajamas on even earlier than the standard 7 pm, signaling, respectively, autumn’s yielding to winter and my enthusiasm for shutting off contact with the outside world at a more reasonable hour, flu season remains undimmed. If 2007 was the Year of the Pig, per Chinese restaurant placemats, 2009 has been the Year of the Swine. If not quite a swine flu panic, 2009 has witnessed full blown swine flu paranoia. Symptoms of swine flu paranoia are evident in any public gathering place. Foremost among these is the ”sanitizing station”, where one receives in one’s hands some version of cleansing fluid, gel or foam in a fashion that is highly evocative of receiving bread at communion. The occasional surgical mask sighting or the placing of newspaper over an offensive subway train pole demarcates the boundaries of the protective sphere cast by the sanitizing station. As we swim in an ocean of hand sanitizer, we talk incessantly of the invisible threat around us: about the dangers of coming into contact with children, whose schools have been reduced to germ breeding grounds; or the risk of entering people’s homes – pity the Mary Kay lady who takes her life into her hands to make her living. Most of all, we are afraid that each person we encounter in our everyday travels is a danger to our health and well being.

It will be important to return to these fears, but a reality check is in order. The public health and medical communities have broadcast loud and clear that YOU WILL ALMOST CERTAINLY NOT DIE FROM SWINE FLU. As names with the word Doctor in front of them are usually very reassuring in such matters, a quick web search should act as a tonic for swine flu paranoia. Dr. David Lipschitz, on creators.com, opines on swine flu thusly: “all the evidence suggests that swine flu is no more aggressive than any other seasonal influenza virus….it is also important to understand that only a very small percentage of people infected with this illness will develop life-threatening complications….we can all take a few simple steps to protect against the swine flu.” These simple steps basically amount to staying home if you’re sick and washing your hands regularly, with a little hand sanitizer thrown in for good measure (one could, of course, avoid touching one’s eyes, nose and mouth between hand washings, which is easy if you pee relatively frequently, so one could argue that drinking lots of your favorite beverage could replace the hand sanitizer, but hey, I’m not a doctor).

For a second opinion, Foxnews.com (yes, that Fox News) proffers Deborah Lehman, whose street cred practically drips from her title, Director of Pediatric Infectious Disease at Cedar Sinai Hospital in Los Angeles. Dr. Lehman provides the added perspective of comparing swine flu to what we’ve always simply called the flu: “At this point it looks like the seasonal flu will be responsible for more deaths than swine flu.” Dr. Lehman’s August forecast has held up. National Public Radio’s Morning Edition (there, that should get the taste of Fox News out of your mouth) reported this week (week of 12/7/09) that while the number of flu cases is up a bit, the number of flu deaths is only one third of its average rate. So, to sum up, swine flu is a bit easier to catch, but much less likely to kill you than good old fashioned flu. Everyone knows this by now; the bodies are simply not piling up at the morgue. But the hand sanitizer flows at a rate second only to the gushing of anxiety. The paranoid response to the reality of swine flu can only be described as irrational.

As irrational behaviors herald unconscious processes at work, if we are to understand swine flu paranoia we are tasked with interpretation. If that psychoanalytical giant Lacan is correct, and the unconscious is structured like a language, then words, signs, and symbols are the material in play. The beginning, then, is that honest name, swine flu. Too honest, in fact, for our times; swine flu was publicly sanitized into H1N1. But there is no such thing as H1N1 paranoia. What people fear is the “swine flu”, and in that pairing of nouns “flu” only relates to the fear in that it provides structure for how the fear manifests, because if we were really that afraid of the “flu”, we would have had sanitizing stations for the last one hundred years. Swine flu has opened the valves of anxiety because of the effect of the word “swine”.

That effect has nothing to do with our relationship to that class of animals which includes pigs, boars, hogs, razorbacks, etc. Swine flu paranoia is unrelated to the individual’s choice of whether or not to consume bacon (my wife tells me pigs are now considered smarter than dogs, which I take to mean that in fifty years when we’ve killed off most other species we’ll feel a little better about eating dogs, but I digress). Scroll down to the second definition of swine on the internet dictionary site that Google takes you to, and you will find “contemptible person”. Swine flu paranoia only takes on meaning in relationship to this secondary definition of the word swine. In short, swine flu paranoia is all about contempt.

We can begin to approach the link between swine flu and contempt by way of what some call, a bit melodramatically (our era majors in dishonesty with a minor in melodrama), the Conservative Media. Whatever else you say about the right, it’s populist radio talk show hosts are a reliable source of free-association levels of unconscious material, especially as relates to the aggressive drive (re. conservatives and the aggressive drive, I kid you not, I saw this bumper sticker last week: “Nuke Iran before Iran nukes us.”). So, according to MediaMatters.com (a lefty organization whose raison d’etre appears to be to reverse that tiresome cliché of “the liberal media” into its equally tiresome opposite) the Conservative Media (read: annoying radio hosts and Fox News) has been portraying the swine flu as the work of the devil, i.e. illegal immigrants. The right’s contempt for illegal immigrants appears to be one notch below that withheld for terrorists, although with swine flu’s help illegal immigrants might get to #1: MediaMatters.com reports that on Bill O’Reilly’s talk show a caller discussing the swine flu stated “each one of these people (illegal immigrants) is a biological weapon”, O’Reilly responded “You might be right.” If illegal immigrants can be considered terrorists, then there is no limit to the contempt in which one may hold them.

MediaMatters.com quotes a passage from talk show host Michael Savage that is even more telling regarding the link between swine flu paranoia and contempt. Discussing his strategy for remaining swine flu free, Savage remarks “How do you protect yourself? I’ll tell you what I’m going to do, and I don’t give a damn if you don’t like what I’m going to say. I’m going to have no contact anywhere with an illegal alien, and that starts in the restaurants. I will have no illegal alien workers around me. I will not have them in any of my properties, I will not have them anywhere.” (Savage was later heard stating “I do not like them with a fox, I will not eat them in a box, I will not eat them here or there, I will not eat them anywhere.”) Savage’s obvious deficiency in common sense aside (should Savage be able to somehow guarantee that no illegal immigrant crosses his path, I’m not sure how he will prevent himself from catching swine flu from a neighbor who has been infected by one of these walking biological weapons), his contempt for immigrants as would be carriers of swine flu is remarkable, absurdly comical, and frightening.

The Conservative Media’s irrational rage towards illegal immigrants as swine flu suicide bombers unmasks the interplay between contempt and swine flu paranoia. But if the Conservative Media is the crazy uncle who frequently ruins Thanksgiving, the rest of us remain garden variety neurotics, and it is to our swine flu paranoia that we now must turn. Just as the right wing talk show host’s swine flu rant expresses his contempt for illegal immigrants, our everyday acts of swine flu paranoia, the immersion in baths of hand sanitizer and the deluge of swine flu anxiety chatter (both external and internal), express our increasing perception of “the other” as a contemptible person. Swine flu paranoia is an expression of anxiety related to contact with the contemptible other, and a set of (neurotic) behaviors intended to inoculate one’s self from the dangers of contact with the object of one’s contempt. Each sanitization of one’s hands is an attempt to cleanse the contamination resulting from contact with the contemptible other.

The other is contemptible, of course. We are all contemptible. Each of us is a strange, fluid composite of the admirable and the contemptible. But swine flu paranoia reveals the degree to which we have collectively repressed those contemptible qualities which make up such a large, and necessary, portion of human character. This repression has been aided and abetted by what is best called the culture industry (a term coined, I believe, by Theodor Adorno and Max Horkheimer). The culture industry, via the interwoven means of media and commerce, has been, amidst mountains of stuff, selling us one idea. This is the idea that if the individual conforms by consuming ever increasing mass quantities appropriately, then he or she can transcend all that is contemptible in him or herself, thereby attaining to a version of the self that is exclusively admirable. We purchase this idea in every thoughtless act of consumption. And with each purchase, we repress another piece of the contemptible within us. Or it might be better said that we put our contemptible traits on lay-away, because swine flu paranoia is the return of the repressed. Those qualities that we have repressed, in our undying effort to resemble the perfect advertisement for ourselves, have returned. We now see them in everyone else, and for reminding us of what we have rejected in ourselves we hold them in contempt. It is the ultimate irony that the mechanism for so much of our repression, the variety of media, is the primary carrier for the spread of swine flu paranoia. As the culture industry consolidates its grip ever further, instances of mass neuroses are inevitable, i.e. you ain’t seen nothing yet.

For the skeptics who might doubt the leaps involved in meaningful interpretation of irrational behavior, trust that there is method to the madness. But to question how one gets from the repression of contemptible traits to standing in line at the hand sanitizing station is not unreasonable. The theory in play holds that the return of the repressed necessarily includes irrational behavior. Freud, in Moses and Monotheism: Three Essays, describes the psychic distortion that leads to the return of the repressed in irrational and unrecognizable forms: “All the phenomena of the formation of symptoms may justly be described as ‘the return of the repressed’. Their distinguishing characteristic, however, is the far-reaching distortion to which the returning material has been subjected as compared with the original.” (p. 127) In other words, we repress that which is unacceptable in the advertisement for ourselves, and the repressed, contemptible traits undergo a process of distortion. At the end of the process the repressed returns, as it must, only now it takes the form of the contemptible other, who has me running scared for the sanitizing station.

As this interpretation began with language, it is to language that we turn in closing. My wife saw a sign at our synagogue the other day which warned “Germs are everywhere”. We now know that this sign is warning us that contemptible persons are everywhere, so slather on the Purell. But if we wish to step back from irrational swine flu paranoia, and towards basic sanity, the etymology of the word “germs” provides a clue. Germ is first recorded in 1644, with an original meaning of “rudiments of a new organism in an existing one.” It had the sense of a sprout or a bud; think “wheat germ” or “germ of an idea”. But by 1805 germ came to mean “seed of a disease”, and by 1871 it came into the meaning it has in common usage today: “harmful microorganism”. Our increasingly pathological relationship to that which is contemptible within us mirrors the evolution of the meaning of the word germ. We increasingly relate to our contemptible traits as a harmful microorganism within us to be eradicated. But eradication is impossible, and repression, and its eventual return, the inevitable outcome.

But if we return to the original sense of germ, conceiving of our contemptible traits as rudiments of a new self in an existing one, we begin to get close to a truth that our spiritual traditions have known down through the ages. The way forward is through the flaws and the pain, through what is contemptible in each of us. It is the by the grace of God that the repressed must always return, even if that means scrubbing our hands raw at our local sanitizing station. For if the repressed did not return, if we could indeed eradicate the contemptible, we should have rid ourselves of the only way out of this great big mess. I’ll start by not trying to be a hybrid of Phillip Marlowe and John Boy from The Waltons, which I somehow decided long ago was the perfect advertisement for me.