In his article
called “Publics and Counterpublics,” Michael Warner states that membership in a
public “is constituted by mere attention” (60). My first reaction was to
discount the claim; this membership criterion appears too broad, and it doesn’t
seem to reflect the reality that we often assign names to particular publics. In other words, names indicate identity, and group identity usually
revolves around a shared commonality, such as goals, interests, or values. So
if publics are constituted through mere attention, does that mean I can be
suckered into a public whether or not I agree with the majority of that public’s
members? But really, how can a public
have “majority consensus” if there’s no sort of filter for who becomes part of
that public?
Warner
anticipates my first question with this response: “Our willingness to process a
passing appeal determines which publics we belong to and performs their
extension” (Warner 62). Rather than being involuntarily “suckered” into a
public, Warner argues that at some level, all members are “voluntary.”
Last week on the
blog posts, Anjeli brought up the idea of voluntary and involuntary publics;
she pointed to the public of this classroom as an example of an involuntary
public. She added, “I mean, we *chose* to attend MSU for English, and that
choice most likely (depending on where we're all at in our degree requirements)
made taking WRIT 376 mandatory.” Warner would probably suggest that one’s choice to major in English suggests his
or her willingness to be in the WRIT
376 public, at some level. If someone was absolutely not willing, they wouldn’t
be in the class, right?
In that same thread of comments, Kristie said, “So, could belonging to certain kinds of
counterpublics be considered involuntary? The Civil Rights Movement (or any
racially formed publics) are an interesting example. We don't get to choose our
ethnicity, so we are automatically assigned to racial groups.” I can just
imagine Warner’s response: “Most social classes and groups are understood to
encompass their members all the time, no matter what” (60). We don’t have a
choice in which (racial) groups we
were born to, but, as per Warner’s conception, “groups” and “publics” are
different; publics are voluntary. Those people who participated in the Civil
Rights Movement comprised a public because they demonstrated willingness
through attention. People who refused to see or hear anything pertaining to the
Civil Rights Movement discourse (which admittedly, would have been very
difficult) were not part of that public, even if they belonged to the “group”
which was the focus of the Civil Rights Movement.
Now what about
my second question posed at the beginning of this post? How can certain publics
have identity markers if they are theoretically open to anyone (which seems to
be a low threshold indeed)?
Warner observes
that his theoretical definition does not always match the description of
publics in practice. He says that a public “appears to be open to indefinite
strangers, but in fact selects participants by criteria of shared social space
(though not necessarily territorial space), habitus, topical concerns,
intergeneric references, and circulating intelligible forms (including
idiolects or speech genres)” (75).
In other words,
a public is sort of pre-determined just based on the language of its discourse,
area or medium of its circulation, etc. We have reached the chicken and egg
conundrum Warner mentions earlier (check out Anjeli’s post on this). Perhaps
when I presupposed publics guided by values, I was really misidentifying the
chicken and egg concept; on a superficial level, the two appear the same.
“Public discourse circulates, but it does so in
struggle with its own conditions” (Warner 76).
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteWarner’s flexibility around the idea of a public also suggests how certain “identity” categories can become very limiting, at least in terms of how we address a public. For example, the success of the Civil Rights Movement ultimately involved a public that was not limited by racial identification – in fact in part demanded that public. It suggests something that I wondered about in a comment to Anjeli: is “identity” always a discursive construction fundamentally? (In which case, what about the case of Rachel Dolezal, who discursively identified as African-American even though she wasn’t?)
ReplyDeleteSadie~
ReplyDeleteYour fourth paragraph on publics versus pre-assigned groups (such as a race) led me to ask myself: what are the social consequences for someone who doesn't voluntarily join a public which their group/natural status would ordinarily lead them to? For example, how do African Americans treat a racist black person? Or, what are the social ramifications for a female who is mysogenist? It seems that such an individual would receive higher levels of disdain as one "turning against their own." So, these publics are not entirely voluntary; there are certain expectations that if one is part of a group, especially a dispriviledged one, they will join the public that is working to counteract those disadvantages. Further, what are the social ramifications for a person *not* part of a marginalized group joining a public of such individuals? I'm thinking of men who whole-heartedly support feminist movements. In some ways, seeing men support issues that apply primarily to women is encouraging and heartening, but in other aspects, it shouldn't have to take a *man's* voice for women's issues to be heard (just reduplicates the issue, really.) Do we actually have free choice in what publics we join, or is it socially pre-determined?
Always something new to consider-- thanks for the post.