After publishing Madness and Civilization (1961) and The Birth of the Clinic (1963) in which Michel Foucault dug into the historical layers to find out how each historical era is guided by its own substratum. In The Order of Things (1966) Foucault does the exact same thing, covering the exact same historical time-frame (roughly 1500-1900 A.D.), but now in a more complete and systematic fashion.
The gist is the same: the period from the late Middle Ages up to the Renaissance had its own grid that it laid over the world and which determined its knowledge, ethics, social structure, etc. This grid was broken up around 1600 when a new grid developed which made old ways of looking at and being in the world break up and opened up a formation of a new substratum on which to build a superstructure of knowledge, ethics, social institutions, etc. This period ended around the end of the eighteenth century, when a new grid was formed and the whole process begun again. We are currently still in this latter historical period, although we can already see, according to Foucault, the first cracks developing, hinting at the breakdown of our current time.
This is, basically, the underlying theme of The Order of Things. It is important to keep this in underlying theme in mind when reading this book, since Foucault never explicitly works this out. What he does is explain first what the episteme of a historical era was, and then proceed to flesh the implications of this particular episteme for (mostly) matters of knowledge were. He does this three times, for the three historical phases mentioned above.
It is important to stress that Foucault is not attempting to offer a historical sketch of how thought developed over time – he explicitly rejects the approach of historians of science. What he does is analyze the manifestations (as scientific theory) of the underlying episteme within a defined historical period. In doing so, he is able to sketch how an a priori structure leads to human thought, behavior and feeling that is contained within that historical period.
How one episteme follows upon another – in other words: how history proceeds – if causality and chronology are both rejected, is unclear to me. Or rather, after finishing the book it is rather unclear to me what the mechanism is that ends one episteme and builds another. Foucault’s analyses of particular sciences and theories of knowledge leave this (important) question unanswered, at least as far as I can tell – please correct me if I’m wrong.
Without going into all the intricate detail of each historical period (at the end of this review I’ll explain why), this is the general overview of the book.
In the Renaissance, the episteme was founded on resemblance. The world was perceived specifically in four forms of resemblance: convenience, emulation, analogy, and sympathy/antipathy. Knowledge consisted of reading the world as a text: the scientist would unearth and decipher all the signs that he read in the world. Signs were interpreted in terms of resemblance. In this epistemological framework, knowledge is never knowledge of a thing, but knowledge of the relationship of a thing to all other things. In short: the worlds was perceived in its totality, knowledge being empty and infinite. Foucault calls this mode of perceiving the world Commentary, in the sense that knowledge consists in (endless) commentary on things. A scientific book would consist of a huge collection of all the available descriptions of a thing by others. In a sense, written text was the foundation of the (known) world.
This episteme broke down around 1600 and was replaced by a new one. The episteme of the Classic Era was founded on representation. Descartes immediately comes to mind as the archetype of this new worldview: he divided the world up into matter and mind. The world was nothing but matter in motion, to be grasped mathematically and mechanically. The question now became how this knowledge of the world is possible: all the elements of our scientific theories originate in ideas, which themselves originate in impressions of external stimuli on our mind.
For the Classical Era knowledge was knowledge of our ideas and their relations. In short: the ordering of our mind of all the worldly things. The grid that was laid over the world was one of order: general grammar ordered our ideas as (spoken) words in propositions – discourse; natural history ordered all worldly things in (hierarchies of) classes based on structure and character – taxonomy; and the analysis of wealth ordered all money in terms of distribution through exchange, which originated in the endless productivity of nature (cultivated land). Underlying these three domains of knowledge were key concepts such as representation, identity and differentiation, and order.
In natural history, all natural objects (from minerals to human beings) were seen as finite manifestations of an infinite natural order. What we see and what we subsequently speak about are our own artificially created tables of classes of things. In the science of wealth, all wealth was seen as money, which signified value that itself derived from (endless) exchange of naturally produced goods. This episteme is able to relate the physiocrats (who viewed land as the summum bonum of wealth) to Adam Smith (who viewed division of labor and free trade as the summum bonum of wealth). Lastly, general grammar was the overarching theory that explained how words designated and articulated things, how words are crucial in the ontological transformation of things into ideas (through the verb), and how words are derived from prior words and gain meaning. In sum, the Classical Era was preoccupied with finding order in the world and signifying this order through discourse.
This episteme broke down around the end of the eighteenth century and was replaced by the episteme of Modernity. Representation was substituted by Man himself. To understand this, the concept of organisztion is crucial. During Modernity natural history was replaced by the science of living beings – biology; the science of wealth was replaced by the science of production through labor – economics; and general grammar (discourse) was broken up into the science of language (philology), the study of the language of thought (symbolic logic) and language as language (literature). Setting aside the last (literature), all of these new sciences had in common that they were firmly rooted in organization. A living being is an organized totality of organs; the capitalist mode of production is an organized structure of capital, labour, means of production, etc.; and language is an intricate system of words, inflections, etc. organized by grammatical rules peculiar to that language.
Biology, economics and philology have in common that they are positive sciences, in the sense that they empirically study objects in the world. But, unlike the Classical Era which ordered everything according to visible qualities of things, the Modern Era studies visible objectivities of things according to deeper, invisible principles. Life, production, and grammatical rules are transcendental origins on which all the positivist theories are based.
Another thing these three sciences have in common is their historicity. They are founded in temporality: whether it is the accumulation of capital, the growth and decay of living beings or the change and relativity of languages, we are dealing with historical developments.
A third commonality between biology, economics and philology is that they have man as their object of knowledge. We study man as a living being, as a productive and consuming being, and as a speaking being. But here is a problem that forms the pivot of Foucault’s whole project: not only do these positivistic sciences have man as an object of knowledge, man himself is equally the subject of this knowledge. That is, it is man who studies man, and in so doing forms an intrinsic element of this knowledge. According to Foucault, this subjectivity is a radical break with earlier epistemes: in Modernity Man has been invented.
The problem is, Man is a double. We already saw he plays both the role of object of his knowledge as well as the subject of his knowledge. This duality is rooted in the finitude of man – in his Being Man is finite, i.e. temporality (a rather Heideggerian echo, more or less). The problems that Man poses for himself as knowing being leads to a critical study of this concept of Man . And through this philosophical criticism Man discovers four dualities:
1. The analysis of finitude shows us the duality finitude-infinity. Man himself, as a living being, is finite, yet life is infinite. Man’s life is nothing but the progress towards death.
2. The analysis of Man also shows us the empirical-transcendental duality. Positivism (the study of Man being) and eschatology (the destruction of Man) conflict. Phenomenology is a rather imperfect solution to this problem: it seeks to return to actual experience yet is never able to overcome the intrinsic duality of empirical-transcendentality.
3. The analysis of the Unthought: Man thinks, implying there is the Unthought. In reflection, man is able to view his Being in a dimension in which thought speaks to the Unthought and articulates itself in terms of this. Basically, Foucault is – rather obscurely – pointing to e.g. Hegel’s unknown, Marx’s alienated man, Freud’s unconscious man, etc. In general terms: the Unthought as positivistic object of knowledge.
4. Lastly, the analysis of the retreat and return of Origins. Man, as a living being, is not his origin; the origin retreats in man. Through philosophical reflection, Man is able to view his origin – outside himself – and this notion makes him realize the fact that his existence is temporality.
I mentioned these four critical analyses of Man because they serve a two-fold purpose. First, they show how tedious and obscure Foucault can be when he isn’t analysing historical data and theories. Second, and more importantly, they point to Foucault’s main thesis: the study of Man – Anthropology – is the foundation of the Modern episteme. Through this critical study, particularly the resulting four unsolvable dualities – they are the epistemological origin of fields like phenomenology, psychology, history, sociology, psychoanalysis, etc. – Man is dissolving himself. Before the nineteenth century Man didn’t exist; with the invention of Man, as the episteme of the modern world, this changed. But the result is that Man is, through himself, dissolving himself into a nothingness.
(The death of Man, after the Death of God – they both are a strong echo of Nietzsche, and throughout the book Foucault seems obsessed with this Nietzschean analysis. Man has destroyed God and is now busy self-destructing. What comes after him is still unclear, just as Nietzsche was rather unclear about how his Superman of the future would look like.)
According to Foucault, this anthropology – so central in the modern (western) world – is destroying its own foundation and in this sense is the heralding of the destruction of the Modern episteme and the heralding of a new episteme. The book was published in 1966, yet even though I read it in 2020, we still seem to be in the age of Man. Perhaps even more so than ever before. Which makes one wonder about the value of a book as this (see the end of this review).
A last important point of this book is the general scheme of things. Foucault agrees that events at the historical level can be causes of the retreat or emergence of fields of knowledge. During the nineteenth century, industrial production can be seen as a force in the development of psychology, just like the revolutions and social unrest can be seen as a force in the development of sociology. But these new sciences couldn’t have originated without a radical change on the underlying, archaeological level: the order of knowledge changed and with this the foundation underlying the total superstructure of knowledge. Organization replaced Order, and Man was invented. This is the condition that made these historical changes possible and not the other way around.
Tangentially, Foucault presages his later works when he deals with the retreat and emergence of certain epistemological concepts. He claims the nineteenth century saw the gradual retreat of function, conflict and signification, and at the same time the gradual emergence of norms, rules and systems. Of course, readers vaguely familiar with Foucault can recognize the concepts of normalization and discipline (both in Discipline and Punish [1975]), and repression (in The History of Sexuality [1984]) from his later works.
Anyway, let me close this review by return to an earlier remark of mine. I have left out all the particular analyses of Foucault. They are very interesting in their own right – for example his treatment of Adam Smith as the breaking point in the science of wealth and David Riccardo as the first economist. But my problem with his analyses of historical sources, which is more than three quarters of the whole book, is that they are not only very selective (Why these sources? Why not others?) but, more importantly, Foucault is interpreting them in a way that suits his purposes. For example, it is easy to find another scholar who offers us a totally different interpretation of Smith and Riccardo.
This is not meant to belittle Foucault’s ambitious project – I do admire his attempt and I find his originality and creativity highly rewarding. But it does beg the question of how his main theory (of change of epistemes at the archaeological level) holds up after the historical interpretations are left out. This leaves us with a fascinating hypothesis of how historical changes in our knowledge and theories are rooted in more fundamental and more radical shifts in the epistemes we employ. And how these epistemes not only shape the world we perceive and act upon, but also form us from our earliest days of youth.
This, in and of itself, is a very interesting hypothesis. Yet the main problem I have with Foucault’s approach is that he confounds epistemology with ontology. Even if we grant his his grid, this seems to imply that it is just one way for us of relating to the world. But how is the world in its fundamental state of being? In an old television debate with Noam Chomsky (still accessible on Youtube – highly recommended!) he explains how the succession of grids continuously makes certain things appear in the world and makes certain other things disappear. But what does that say about the world – the world underlying all of these grids – in its original state? Is it impossible for us to know this world in its original Being? Is its original Being the collection of the manifestations within all these grids?
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FINAL PARAGRAPH IN COMMENTS