Precarious Life Quotes

“When we lose certain people, or when we are dispossessed from a place, or a community, we may simply feel that we are undergoing something temporary, that mourning will be over and some restoration of prior order will be achieved. But maybe when we undergo what we do, something about who we are is revealed, something that delineates the ties we have to others, that shows us that these ties constitute what we are, ties or bonds that compose us. It is not as if an “I” exists independently over here and then simply loses a “you” over there, especially if the attachment to “you” is part of what composes who “I” am. If I lose you, under these conditions, then I not only mourn the loss, but I become inscrutable to myself. Who “am” I, without you? When we lose some of these ties by which we are constituted, we do not know who we are or what to do. On one level, I think I have lost “you” only to discover that “I” have gone missing as well.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Let's face it. We're undone by each other. And if we're not, we're missing something.
This seems so clearly the case with grief, but it can be so only because it was already the case with desire. One does not always stay intact. One may want to, or manage to for a while, but despite one's best efforts, one is undone, in the face of the other, by the touch, by the scent, by the feel, by the prospect of the touch, by the memory of the feel.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Whether or not we continue to enforce a universal conception of human rights at moments of outrage and incomprehension, precisely when we think that others have taken themselves out of the human community as we know it, is a test of our very humanity.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“It is not as if an 'I' exists independently over here and then simply loses a 'you' over there, especially if the attachment to 'you' is part of what composes who 'I' am. If I lose you, under these conditions, then I not only mourn the loss, but I become inscrutable to myself. Who 'am' I, without you? When we lose some of these ties by which we are constituted, we do not know who we are or what to do. On one level, I think I have lost 'you' only to discover that 'I' have gone missing as well. At another level, perhaps what I have lost 'in' you, that for which I have no vocabulary, is a relationality that is composed neither exclusively of myself nor you, but is to be conceived as *the tie* by which those terms are differentiated and related.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Relationality [is] not only [a] descriptive or historical fact of our formation, but also an ongoing normative dimension of our social and political lives, one in which we are compelled to take stock of our interdependence.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Law itself is either suspended, or regarded as an instrument that the state may use in the service of constraining and monitoring a given population; the state is not subject to the rule of law, but law can be suspended or deployed tactically and partially to suit the requirements of a state that seeks more and more to allocate sovereign power to its executive and administrative powers. The law is suspended in the name of "sovereignty" of the nation, where "sovereignty" denotes the task of any state to preserve and protect its own territoriality.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Those who commit acts of violence are surely responsible for them; they are not dupes or mechanisms of an impersonal social force, but agents with responsibility. On the other hand, these individuals are formed, and we would be making a mistake if we reduced their actions to purely self-generated acts of will or symptoms of individual pathology of 'evil'.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Are we not, ethically speaking, obligated to stop its (violence) further dissemination, to consider our role in instigating it, and to forment and cultivate another sense of a culturally and religiously diverse global political culture?”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“To be injured means that one has the chance to reflect upon injury, to find out the mechanisms of its distribution, to find out who else suffers from permeable borders, unexpected violence, dispossession, and fear, and in what ways.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“When we recognize another, or when we ask for recognition for ourselves, we are not asking for an Other to see us as we are, as we already are, as we have always been, as we were constituted prior to the encounter itself. Instead, in the asking, in the petition, we have already become something new, since we are constituted by virtue of the address, a need and desire for the Other that takes place in language in the broadest sense, one without which we could not be. To ask for recognition, or to offer it, is precisely not to ask for recognition for what one already is. It is to solicit a becoming, to instigate a transformation, to petition the future always in relation to the Other. It is also to stake one's own being, and one's own persistence in one's own being, in the struggle for recognition.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Many people think that grief is privatizing, that it returns us to a solitary situation and is, in that sense, depoliticizing. But I think it furnishes a sense of political community of a complex order, and it does this first of all by bringing to the fore the relational ties that have implications for theorizing fundamental dependency and ethical responsibility.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Those who are unreal have, in a sense, already suffered the violence of derealization. What, then, is the relation between violence and those lives considered as "unreal"? Does violence effect that unreality? Does violence take place on the condition of that unreality?
If violence is done against those who are unreal, then, from the perspective of violence, it fails to injure or negate those lives since those lives are already negated. But they have a strange way of remaining animated and so must be negated again (and again). They cannot be mourned because they are always already lost or, rather, never "were," and they must be killed, since they seem to live on, stubbornly, in this state of deadness. Violence renews itself in the face of the apparent inexhaustibility of its object.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Perhaps, rather, one mourns when one accepts that by the loss one undergoes one will be changed, possibly for ever. Perhaps mourning has to do with agreeing to undergo a transformation (perhaps one should say submitting to a transformation) the full result of which one cannot know in advance. There is losing, as we know, but there is also the transformative effect of loss, and this latter cannot be charted or planned. One can try to choose it, but it may be that this experience of transformation deconstitutes choice at some level. I do not think, for instance, that one can invoke the Protestant ethic when it comes to loss. One cannot say, "Oh, I'll go through loss this way, and that will be the result, and I'll apply myself to the task, and I'll endeavor to achieve the resolution of grief that is before me." I think one is hit by waves, and that one starts out the day with an aim, a project, a plan, and finds oneself foiled. One finds oneself fallen. One is exhausted but does not know why. Something is larger than one's own deliberate plan, one's own project, one's own knowing and choosing.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Loss has made a tenuous "we" of us all. And if we have lost, then it follows that we have had, that we have desired and loved, that we have struggled to find the conditions for our desire. We have all lost in recent decades from AIDS, but there are other losses that afflict us, from illness and from global conflict; and there is the fact as well that women and minorities, including sexual minorities, are, as a community, subjected to violence, exposed to its possibility, if not its realization. This means that each of us is constituted politically in part by virtue of the social vulnerability of our bodies-as a site of desire and physical vulnerability, as a site of a publicity at once assertive and exposed. Loss and vulnerability seem to follow from our being socially constituted bodies, attached to others, at risk of losing those attachments, exposed to others, at risk of violence by virtue of that exposure.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“It is one matter to suffer violence and quite another to use that fact to ground a framework in which one’s injury authorizes limitless aggression against targets that may or may not be related to the sources of one’s own suffering.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“It would surely be a mistake to gauge the success of feminism by its success as a colonial project. p41.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Those who commit acts of violence are surely responsible for them; they are not dupes or mechanisms of an impersonal social force, but agents with responsibility. On the other hand, these individuals are formed, and we would be making a mistake if we reduced their actions to purely self-generated acts of will or symptoms of individual pathology of ‘evil”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Suffering can yield an experience of humility, of vulnerability, of impressionability and dependence, and these can become resources, if we do not "resolve" them too quickly; they can move us beyond and against the vocation of the paranoid victim who regenerates infinitely the justifications for war. It is as much a matter of wrestling ethically with one's own murderous impulses, impulses that seek to quell an overwhelming fear, as it is a matter of apprehending the suffering of others and taking stock of the suffering one has inflicted.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“It would seem that personification does not always humanize.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Agamben has elaborated upon how certain
subjects undergo a suspension of their ontological status as subjects
when states of emergency are invoked. He argues that a subject
deprived of rights of citizenship enters a suspended zone, neither
living in the sense that a political animal lives, in community and
bound by law, nor dead and, therefore, outside the constituting
condition of the rule of law. These socially conditioned states of
suspended life and suspended death exemplify the distinction that
Agamben offers between "bare life" and the life of the political being
(bios politikon ), where this second sense of "being" is established only
in the context of political community. If bare life, life conceived as
biological minimum, becomes a condition to which we are all
reducible, then we might find a certain universality in this condition.
Agamben writes, "We are all potentially exposed to this condition,"
that is, "bare life" underwrites the actual political arrangements in
which we live, posing as a contingency into which any political
arrangement might dissolve. Yet such general claims do not yet tell us
how this power functions differentially, to target and manage certain
populations, to derealize the humanity of subjects who might
potentially belong to a community bound by commonly recognized
laws; and they do not tell us how sovereignty, understood as state
sovereignty in this instance, works by differentiating populations on
the basis of ethnicity and race, how the systematic management and
derealization of populations function to support and extend the
claims of a sovereignty accountable to no law; how sovereignty
extends its own power precisely through the tactical and permanent
deferral of the law itself.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“The state produces, through the act of withdrawal, a law that is no law, a court that is no court, a process that is no process.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“It is not possible to impose a language of politics developed within First World contexts on women who are facing the threat of imperialist economic exploitation and cultural obliteration. On the other hand, we would be wrong to think that the First World is here and the Third World is there, that a second world is somewhere else, that a subaltern subtends these divisions. These topographies have shifted, and what was once thought of as a border, that which delimits and bounds, is a highly populated site, if not the very definition of the nation, confounding identity in what may well become a very auspicious direction.
For if I am confounded by you, then you are already of me, and I am nowhere without you. I cannot muster the "we" except by finding the way in which I am tied to "you," by trying to translate but finding that my own language must break up and yield if I am to know you. You are what I gain through this disorientation and loss. This is how the human comes into being, again and again, as that which we have yet to know.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“But perhaps we make a mistake if we take the definitions of who we are, legally, to be adequate descriptions of what we are about. Although this language may well establish our legitimacy within a legal framework ensconced in liberal versions of human ontology, it does not do justice to passion and grief and rage, all of which tear us from ourselves, bind us to others, transport us, undo us, implicate us in lives that are not are own, irreversibly, if not fatally.
It is not easy to understand how a political community is wrought from such ties. One speaks, and one speaks for another, to another, and yet there is no way to collapse the distinction between the Other and oneself. When we say "we" we do nothing more than designate this very problematic. We do not solve it. And perhaps it is, and ought to be, insoluble. This disposition of ourselves outside ourselves seems to follow from bodily life, from its vulnerability and its exposure.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“And so, when we speak about "my sexuality" or "my gender," as we do and as we must, we nevertheless mean something complicated that is partially concealed by our usage. As a mode of relation, neither gender nor sexuality is precisely a possession, but, rather, is a mode of being dispossessed, a way of being for another or by virtue of another.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“Our acts are not self-generated, but conditioned. We are at once acted upon and acting, and our "responsibility" lies in the juncture between the two. What can I do with the conditions that form me? What do they constrain me to do? What can I do to transform them? Being acted upon is not fully continuous with acting, and in this way the forces that act upon us are not finally responsible for what we do. In a certain way, and paradoxically, our responsibility is heightened once we have been subjected to the violence of others. We are acted upon, violently, and it appears that our capacity to set our own course at such instances is fully undermined. Only once we have suffered that violence are we compelled, ethically, to ask how we will respond to violent injury.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence

“D'altra parte, sbaglieremmo a credere che il primo mondo sia qui e il terzo mondo là, che ci sia un secondo mondo altrove e che la subalternità sia sottesa a questa suddivisione. Queste topografie sono ormai saltate, e quello che veniva percepito come un confine, qualcosa che delimita e contiene, ora è un luogo densamente popolato, se non addirittura la definizione stessa di nazione, nella quale le identità si confondono in una direzione che pare del tutto auspicabile. Perché se io sono confusa da te, tu sei già parte di me, e io non sono in nessun luogo senza di te.”
― Judith Butler, Precarious Life: The Powers of Mourning and Violence