February 2010 Archives

Oh, Trevi! Your post on how annoying it is to have to decipher the sense of the word "problematic" when it is actually used as one of these hypocritical detours to express a disagreement in a gentle, almost clandestine way, reminded me of a cultural gap between French and American people in terms of holding a conversation and expressing oneself publicly.

Of course these are only my subjective thoughts, based on just four years spent in the golden cage of Ann Arbor, Michigan, so who I am to speak in the name of French people and to make some highly disputable generalizations about American folks? Well, this previous statement is actually symptomatic of what I want to share with you: the need to put some rhetorical lube before expressing a personal opinion so that, in case of a debate, or a disagreement, I already anticipate a space for modifying my opinion and reaching an agreement - and saving my ass.

I noticed this tendency, in America, to be careful when you are about to speak up your mind. You are encouraged to be sincere, of course, but people tend to formulate their opinions with a rhetoric that reflects flexibility and humble skepticism. In my experience, the American conversation relies on the use of conditional -- like "I would say" or "I would think" -- or the seemingly ever-recurring "maybes" and euphemistic expressions (the word "problematic" is one of these euphemisms). That's what I call "rhetorical lube." You don't want to hurt anyone's feelings by expressing yourself. Rather, you want to make sure you're still being seen as a sociable, smiling, constructive person. A "team player."

Thinking about this rhetoric, and contrasting it with the way French people tend to express themselves, I was struck by a cultural gap. In France, we tend to be much more explicit than American people, straight to the point, without fear of inciting an intense conversation or an argument. When you look for a job in France, you do not have to prove how sociable and friendly you can be, how compatible you are with many different kinds of people, and how careful you are to respect everyone's sensibility. In other words, you are expected to be polite, but you are also expected to have a personality and not to fear conflict when defending your beliefs. In America, people tend to be careful to avoid personal conflicts. They do their best to avoid being labeled "defensive" because others might perceive them as deviating from the politically correct, mainstream, and utterly safe opinions that circulate in everyday life.

That's when it becomes more than just an issue of rhetoric. Let me articulate here a political interpretation on why would French people be less concerned about conflicts, about being loud on their beliefs, whereas Americans would tend to value courteous dialogue and constructive behavior. I propose that, more than just a matter of different rhetorical styles, these differences have political roots. In France, even if you're a poor worker, you can still rely on the nanny state in terms of having access to a free, high quality health system. And if you think you were fired for unfair reasons, you can rely on the free Prud'hommes system in order to sue your boss and reclaim a compensation for any abuse of power. The same for education: you don't have to plan a huge budget for your kids because in France most of the schools, including the most prestigious and elitist ones, are not expensive and do not select their students by the financial profile of their parents.

Of course I am not convinced myself by what I wrote (Bourdieu would spit on my face), France is far from being a paradise, deficits are huge and nobody seems to be willing to quote us as a model. On top of that I came to the University of Michigan to start a PhD precisely because the conditions for studying and the resources here are just outstanding, so let me rephrase my opinion in a less stereotypical way: in spite of all the drawbacks of the French nanny state, of all the big lies on the French egalitarian system in terms of education and public health insurance, it still remains obvious than French people, in comparison to American people, are not afraid of being often on strike, of suing their bosses, and of having a big argument in public when they feel they are right!

I want to interpret this as the political consequence of knowing that, in case of cancer, or of unemployment, you know you can rely on the nanny state for support. On the contrary, I think that if Americans are so concerned about being seen as sociable and not defensive, it is because in their contemporary society, they can only rely on themselves and think twice before taking a risk. You live constantly on loans. We don't. You have to deal with an army of lawyers to protect yourself or attack the others, we don't. That is a big, huge, significant difference. You have much more to lose when you rely on yourself, so you think twice before speaking up your mind. And the Fox News constant brainwashing on "don't forget to live with fear" does not help at all. It only confirms the dynamics of a safe, selfish individualism!

But let me end on this note, and this is my outing as a socialist here: self made men do exist, and yes they are wonderful role models. But they belong to the happy few, and their success story should never be a pretext to legitimize the absence of a basic, financial support from the Nation in the name of social justice and, as we say in France, fraternité. So God Bless America, and those who want to change it radically!

If you've ever spent more than twelve minutes with lefty activists or critical academics, you will notice that one word somehow manages to pop up as a way to describe a variety of things, people, phenomena, and social issues: "Problematic." Everything from homophobia to movie posters to legislation gets described in this way, to the detriment I think of the speaker, because this word is so grossly imprecise. I often get confused about the meaning of this word, and people often misread my use of it, creating a general state of confusion and misinterpretation that doesn't work towards anyone benefit.So today, I wanted to pause for a second today to reflect on this overused and imprecise word that so many of us find so appealing. What do I mean by it? What do I read others as meaning by it? And how might we find other ways of saying what we mean when we use it so that people understand us a bit better? I'll use the image above -- which came up as an early Google Images result when searching for "problematic" -- as a reference point to describe how these different meanings would result in different responses to the image.

In my experience, there are two broad uses of this word that relate to the differences I see in who's using them: Academics and activists. Let's begin with that activist-y definition, which I take to be the more common usage of the word (at least in my experience). For activists, I understand their intention when labeling something as problematic as a way to say that these things are generally bad and should be avoided -- and more specifically, evidence of oppressive systems such as racism, sexism, and homophobia. Thus, there is a moral valence here: Problematic things are morally bad, unjust, and something that should illicit shame in its maker, something that is perceived as grossly incompatible with "social justice" (another highly vague term, as is indicated by my critique yesterday. But I digress).

Thus, in this frame, if I refer to the image above as "problematic," I probably mean to say that it's blatantly racist for the way it represents Asian men in the role of women, feminizing them categorically while buttressing white male masculinity by way of making the white man look strong, tall, and manly in comparison with the small "geisha boy" dressed in traditional women's garbs. In more plain language, I'd also probably say that Jerry Lewis is a racist asshole and that he should be ashamed of being involved with its production. Thus, problematic often becomes a nicer way to call a person a jerk and to spank them verbally.

But there is another understanding of the word, which I take to be closer to the word's original meaning (though I make no claim that "original" meanings are the "right" meanings). I say this as a result of the definitions available online. From Merriam-Webster:

1 a : posing a problem : difficult to solve or decide b : not definite or settled : uncertain c : open to question or debate : questionable 2 : expressing or supporting a possibility

Thus, in this frame, to call something problematic is a bit like labeling it a thought-puzzle, as begging or requiring inquiry and explanation. This is much closer to the definition I think most academics are referring to when they invoke "problematic." I refer here to Chrys Ingraham's rather elegant explanation from her essay "The Heterosexual Imaginary," where she attempts to explain her goal as a feminist scholar trying to unpack the ways in which heteronormativity functions and is reproduced. Relying on Althusser's conception of "problematic," she argues:

"To examine the ways in which feminist sociology reproduces the heterosexual imaginary requires a theoretical framework capable of investigating the interests and assumptions embedded within any social text or practice. This mode of inquiry would make visible the frames of intelligibility or the 'permitted' meanings in constructions of gender and heterosexuality. More than this, it would connect heterosexuality and interests to a problematic. As Althusser has argued, 'A word or concept cannot be considered in isolation; it only exists in the theoretical or ideological framework in which it is used: its problematic' (1982:253). To determine a text's problematic is to reveal another logic circulating beneath the surface. It appears as the answer to questions left unasked. It is not that which is left unsaid or unaccounted for, but that which the text assumes and does not speak. What is required, then, is a process of analysis capable of inquiring into the power relations organizing the allowed as well as the disallowed meanings in an effort to expose the artificiality of the theories and ideologies organizing the use of particular concepts." (p. 6, link)

In this conception of "problematic," the word here is meant to describe the "theoretical or ideological framework" in which a word or a "text" (an academic term that really refers to any kind of written word but also images and media that can be subjected to a critical interpretation) exists. She uses it here notably as a noun -- not an adjective. This "context" could be include a variety of approaches that relate to academic disciplinary practices and methods for analysis, such as a historical approach -- how did the historical moment in which the text was produced impact the symbols and meanings embedded within it -- or perhaps from a sociological perspective reading transcripts of interviews to understand how it is imbued with cultural narratives that give us some insight into the socio-cultural context in which they live.

Thus, relying on this conception of "problematic," morality is not called into question. Indeed, many scholars would argue against a universal conception of morality that could be imposed from the outside on a particular text, phenomenon, or practice. Thus, within this framework, calling this image above "problematic" would instead imply that there are various forms of representation simultaneously being invoked that require a bit of critical analysis. Thus, one might attempt to compare this image to historical representations of Japanese men (and East Asian men more broadly) that enabled this particular image to be legible or understandable to its audience. In order for this text to be meaningful as a marketing tool, its producers has to expect that -- to at least some degree -- people seeing it would be able understand how to interpret the boy's clothes, the term "geisha," and the larger social and historical relations between the Japanese and Americans.

Thus, to describe it as "problematic" in this sense would not necessarily entail it's condemnation -- or to imply that you think Jerry Lewis is a jerk (although they may well think so). In and of itself, the text cannot be morally "bad." Rather, it is the ways in which it relies on and is produced through various systems of power and social relations that are deserving of critical attention. Connecting this image to this socio-cultural and historical context helps reveal why we would want to describe it as "racist" today - even though it may not have been readily understood as such at the time. In this way, understanding something as "problematic" is to demand attention to this context -- that dwelling simply on the image as if it were in a vacuum is not productive analytically.

I don't think either are particularly "better," per se. The first version is motivated by various political agendas -- to use problematic in this sense is to call out practices or ideas that do indeed reinforce pervasive systems of injustice like racism, sexism and homophobia. I don't mean to imply that this isn't a worthwhile goal. But by posing it alongside an entirely different conception used often by academics, I want to just note how there are this disparate meanings in use that make understanding those who invoke it difficult. So I think we need to try to find a new word - or just explain what we mean when we use it. I'm constantly confused when people describe something as "problematic" - it seems to be a kind of catch-all colloquialism that people are expected to generally understand but not perfectly. So next time you want to call Jerry Lewis an asshole, just do it! No need to beat around the bush.

Anyhow, that's my totally academic and asinine indulgence for the week. If anyone is still reading, I'd love to hear thoughts!

xoxo

T