Jean Baudrillard: “Outlaw” Cultural Theorist1
Chris Horrocks
(Senior Lecturer in Art
History, Kingston University, London, UK)2
Jean Baudrillard, the
French writer of brilliantly discomfiting books such as Simulacres et
Simulation (1981, translated into English as Simulacra and Simulation,
1994), in his many publications challenged and extended the fissures, contradictions,
extremes and ironies in culture and society. He dies at a time when his work is
perhaps at its least fashionable, but most important. Born in the year of the Great
Depression – or what he saw as the "first great crash in values" – Baudrillard
devoted his work to our present, chronic collapse, which for him was more a
problem of a dramatic but unnoticed transformation in our relationship to a
"new global order", a world in which the cult of production – of
meaning and reality more than economic wealth or consumer objects -- had
saturated all aspects of life. Baudrillard's version of our universe is one
where codes and signs coercively produce and designate our societies and
cultures as simulations that produce our versions of reality.
Baudrillard's intellectual
odyssey found its way through the enclosed but combative Parisian academic
community of the 1960s. Myths abound from this period of Baudrillard's early
tenure as an assistant and researcher in the field of sociology. It seems he
flourished in this hothouse of new ideas, although, unlike many of his
colleagues, he did not seek to affiliate himself with the more direct brands of
revolutionary thought – neo-Marxism, Maoism, Situationnisme – that had swept
through the universities and culminated in the events of May 1968. Instead, he
worked and published in the margins, under more established figures – Roland
Barthes, Henri Lefebvre, Pierre Bourdieu – while not directly associating
himself with a movement or discipline.
His writings from the
period demonstrate a desire to draw together the dominant strands of thought:
semiology, poststructuralism and brands of psychoanalysis and anthropology. In
works such as the elegantly titled For a Critique of the Political Economy
of the Sign (1981), the collected essays of The Consumer Society (1970),
and The System of Objects (1968), he emerged as an important critic of a
world of consumer objects that "quite tyrannically induce categories of
people".
When I interviewed him
in 1995 he said, rather melancholically, that he had no more friends in Paris, by which he meant that he had become an "intellectual outlaw" – a thinker
detached from the academic establishment. Three publications in the 1970s had
forged Baudrillard's reputation as a thinker beyond the limit of prevailing
ideas. The first, The Mirror of Production (1975), took on Karl Marx. In
characteristic fashion, Baudrillard saw Marxist thought as part of the problem
it sought to theorize: Marx simply universalized or replicated bourgeois
notions of the market and capitalist ideology, and effectively fetishized the
idea of work. Then Baudrillard delivered the bombshell Forget Foucault (1987),
an assault on one of the most influential writers of that generation. Michel
Foucault had chosen not to read the draft Baudrillard sent him, but when it was
published he was furious ("Foucault is the last great dinosaur of the
classical age," said Baudrillard).
Baudrillard had written
off Foucault's idea of "power" as simply a redundant notion. All
formerly secure terms, such as "desire", "reality",
"truth", were now targeted, and the trio of categorical crimes
against thought was completed when Seduction (1990) emerged. This
publication, which has recently been reassessed as the first
"post-post-feminist" text, exemplifies Baudrillard's technique of
looking at society from another side, emphasizing what he called
"reversibility" – in this case the gendered triumph of apparent
"objects" over the attempts of subjects who wish to control them.
In the early 1990s, the
backlash against so-called "postmodern theory" (of which Baudrillard
was never a part) became popular in the press, and conservatives and radicals
condemned Baudrillard in equal measure. Many critics accused him of being willfully
obscure, and irresponsible – a kind of intellectual playboy whose work was
simply a special effect that exacerbated rather than alleviated our symptoms.
But Baudrillard's project was never concerned with providing answers or
antidotes, and he was always puzzled when he was called to account.
For example, when he
published his book America, 1988), he was castigated for its failure to
represent the actualities of the United States. His response to accusations
that he had failed to represent issues of racial conflict was that it was not
the America he had sought to represent. He always thought of phenomena at
another level, and was not allied to the mission to seek out and determine
social or other truths.
In the late 1980s he
appeared at the ICA in London for a book launch. Academics and the press wanted
something from him; the queue of young postmodernists put such pressure on the
event that the overspill had to be absorbed into a room next to the
"real" show, with his talk relayed via a monitor. Everyone was
captivated. Baudrillard greeted the idea with his usual shrug and
"Pourquoi pas?" This reduplication of an event within an event, which
dismantled the idea of the event, struck me as perhaps the most Baudrillardian
experience one could have.
© Christopher Horrocks and The
Independent
Endnotes