In contemporary politics, the word democracy most often connotes ideas like government, state, human rights, law, etc. It is often perceived as a system or meta-narrative designed to organize and order differences hierarchically according to the majority rule (aggregative democracy), or particular “(I)deas of reason,” such as freedom, patriotism, human rights, nationalism, justice, etc.
It is often perceived as a system or meta-narrative designed to organize and order differences hierarchically according to the majority rule (aggregative democracy), or particular “(I)deas of reason,” such as freedom, patriotism, human rights, nationalism, justice, etc. Ideas of reason are used to rationally justify mechanisms of so-called democratic governments. But for Lyotard, these meta-narratives merely reduce differences according the norms of a given, specific ruling class or party. If, for Lyotard, politics is the space of deliberation and dissensus, which then has to be organized by regimes and genres of thought, then the process of organization and hierarchical ordering (through governments, meta-narratives, ideas of reason) does not count as politics, but as the taming of politics. Basing the openness of democracy on rational principles actually reinforces the process of legitimization justifies exclusion, and precludes from the start the very possibility of infinite and multiple perspectives democracy is said to stand for. Therefore, for Lyotard, Democracy cannot be thought of as a system of government or meta-narrative that can be implemented. Instead, the political preoccupation with meta-narratives as rational principles must end and be replaced with a conception of political discourse as a contest of multiple local narratives and in-commensurable language games.
Democracy is the resistance to the determinations and foreclosures made by privileged rationales and justifying principles. In other words, democracy is the possibility of the ceaseless and absolute deliberation, but precisely not resolution, between as many perspectives (however different) seek to participate. Lyotard calls this the space of constant dissensus the “deliberative.” He states, “The narrative is a genre, the deliberative is a collection of genres” and this suffices to let occurrences and differends (difference in the sense of dispute) appear” (LD 210 217). Deliberative democracy is the space of radical heterogeneity, the space of politics before they are domesticated and ordered. Democracy is the practice and process of keeping differences alive and open within systems and meta-narratives, while also maintaining the ability for constant and equal “deliberation.”
Democracy undermines the supremacy of one, single rational. In fact, democracy is there to protect irreducible or irreconcilable differences from governments, meta-narratives, ideas of reason that would regulate, order, or prioritize them according to the particular demands. Because it cannot be ordered, protected, and enforced by abstract, universalized principles, the space of the genuinely and always risky deliberative is more fragile. But it is also far more important than the ability to maintain an overarching narrative. He states, “The deliberative is more fragile than the narrative, it lets the abysses (between differences) be perceived that separate genres of discourse from each other… the abysses that threaten the social bond” (The Differend, 150). A democracy that is free of any reasons or meta-narratives save it’s own insistent capacity to let differences come into play.
Lyotard is an agonist--he is skeptical of the possibility of politics to eliminate, overcome, or circumvent deep divisions between people. His belief that some differences genuinely cannot be bridged—or rather, his conviction that bridging difference almost always means one side sacrificing it’s meaning, autonomy, and freedom to another--leads him to focus on the excluded Other. Following his reading of Kant on the feeling of the sublime, Lyotard suggests that another culture, individual, or perspective cannot be totally captured by, reduced to, or the same as our own culture, individual experience, or perspective. For this reason, Lyotard’s discussion of democracy centers on the idea of the differend—the impossibility of representing something completely different, completely other, within one’s own system of meaning. The differend is Lyotard’s name for that gap which cannot be closed, that difference that cannot be represented within, or reduced to, a system other than it’s own. The heart of the “differend” is the concept of the inhuman, “the irreducible plurality of peoples and genres (of communication and language) that must be defended against the totality understood in the idea of humanity” (120). Lyotard’s argues that paying special attention to those who are constantly left out or under-/mis-represented is central to maintaining democratic openness.
Practically, this means that democracy asks us to look always to those who are not being represented within so called democratic governments, or whose specificity and uniqueness are being covered by the assumption of a universal or humanity, over by meta-narratives of human rights. This constant looking to and trying to include other genres of communication, other forms of knowledge, and other peoples is oriented not toward a final resolution (a single, unifying narrative), but toward a multiplicity of creative and novel statements. - Rebekah Sinclair
References:
It is often perceived as a system or meta-narrative designed to organize and order differences hierarchically according to the majority rule (aggregative democracy), or particular “(I)deas of reason,” such as freedom, patriotism, human rights, nationalism, justice, etc. Ideas of reason are used to rationally justify mechanisms of so-called democratic governments. But for Lyotard, these meta-narratives merely reduce differences according the norms of a given, specific ruling class or party. If, for Lyotard, politics is the space of deliberation and dissensus, which then has to be organized by regimes and genres of thought, then the process of organization and hierarchical ordering (through governments, meta-narratives, ideas of reason) does not count as politics, but as the taming of politics. Basing the openness of democracy on rational principles actually reinforces the process of legitimization justifies exclusion, and precludes from the start the very possibility of infinite and multiple perspectives democracy is said to stand for. Therefore, for Lyotard, Democracy cannot be thought of as a system of government or meta-narrative that can be implemented. Instead, the political preoccupation with meta-narratives as rational principles must end and be replaced with a conception of political discourse as a contest of multiple local narratives and in-commensurable language games.
Democracy is the resistance to the determinations and foreclosures made by privileged rationales and justifying principles. In other words, democracy is the possibility of the ceaseless and absolute deliberation, but precisely not resolution, between as many perspectives (however different) seek to participate. Lyotard calls this the space of constant dissensus the “deliberative.” He states, “The narrative is a genre, the deliberative is a collection of genres” and this suffices to let occurrences and differends (difference in the sense of dispute) appear” (LD 210 217). Deliberative democracy is the space of radical heterogeneity, the space of politics before they are domesticated and ordered. Democracy is the practice and process of keeping differences alive and open within systems and meta-narratives, while also maintaining the ability for constant and equal “deliberation.”
Democracy undermines the supremacy of one, single rational. In fact, democracy is there to protect irreducible or irreconcilable differences from governments, meta-narratives, ideas of reason that would regulate, order, or prioritize them according to the particular demands. Because it cannot be ordered, protected, and enforced by abstract, universalized principles, the space of the genuinely and always risky deliberative is more fragile. But it is also far more important than the ability to maintain an overarching narrative. He states, “The deliberative is more fragile than the narrative, it lets the abysses (between differences) be perceived that separate genres of discourse from each other… the abysses that threaten the social bond” (The Differend, 150). A democracy that is free of any reasons or meta-narratives save it’s own insistent capacity to let differences come into play.
Lyotard is an agonist--he is skeptical of the possibility of politics to eliminate, overcome, or circumvent deep divisions between people. His belief that some differences genuinely cannot be bridged—or rather, his conviction that bridging difference almost always means one side sacrificing it’s meaning, autonomy, and freedom to another--leads him to focus on the excluded Other. Following his reading of Kant on the feeling of the sublime, Lyotard suggests that another culture, individual, or perspective cannot be totally captured by, reduced to, or the same as our own culture, individual experience, or perspective. For this reason, Lyotard’s discussion of democracy centers on the idea of the differend—the impossibility of representing something completely different, completely other, within one’s own system of meaning. The differend is Lyotard’s name for that gap which cannot be closed, that difference that cannot be represented within, or reduced to, a system other than it’s own. The heart of the “differend” is the concept of the inhuman, “the irreducible plurality of peoples and genres (of communication and language) that must be defended against the totality understood in the idea of humanity” (120). Lyotard’s argues that paying special attention to those who are constantly left out or under-/mis-represented is central to maintaining democratic openness.
Practically, this means that democracy asks us to look always to those who are not being represented within so called democratic governments, or whose specificity and uniqueness are being covered by the assumption of a universal or humanity, over by meta-narratives of human rights. This constant looking to and trying to include other genres of communication, other forms of knowledge, and other peoples is oriented not toward a final resolution (a single, unifying narrative), but toward a multiplicity of creative and novel statements. - Rebekah Sinclair
References:
- The Differend: Phrases in Dispute. Translated by Georges Van Den Abbeele. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1988; Le Différend. Paris: Éditions de Minuit, 1983.
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