While Foucault is to a large extent a theoretical writer, he bases much of his theory upon a historical examination of how the functions of institutions have changed over time and how those changes reflect various deployments in power. In his History of Sexuality volume 1, Foucault makes the claim that sexuality became essentially created as an object of scientific study due to societal changes in the past few centuries. The rise of the need for population growth to become a factor in planning the existence of a country (and the increased ability to understand how population interacts with other factors, like industry) meant that deviant sexual behaviors that didn’t contribute to a boost in population were considered all the more “morally” wrong. All manners of things relating to population became regulated - even something as benign seeming as maternity care was caught up in the deployment of sexuality. However, this entire study of the history of sexuality (along with his treatments of prisons and the phenomenon of madness) was done so in a very Eurocentric fashion. Never did Foucault really take into account any perspective that originated outside of Europe; nor did he really consider any kind of intellectual thought that wasn’t French or German in its origin. He makes universal theoretical claims after only looking at examples of techniques of power that is culturally familiar.
Moreover, even the historical analysis that Foucault provides that is local isn’t always considered correct. He often gives oversimplified accounts of how institutions of power worked, or makes grievous factual errors. Foucault points to a number of developments in the way prisons work that he thinks have to do with changing notions of what it means to be a “criminal.” However, many of the “new” developments that he talks about: locking criminals up in cells that are isolated from other prisoners, the panoptic nature of the watchtower system - were actually found in the Middle Ages, against his belief. This is but one example of a small yet important flaw in his reasoning; many similar generalizations pepper his writing.
One might be tempted to shrug off such nit-picking as irrelevant to the essence of his theories. After all, if he can still establish some solid ties between societal shifts in power and practices that encode a certain set of behaviors as normative, then Foucault is still basically right. However, when details that run contrary to Foucault’s vision surface, they make apparent the fact that Foucault’s theories are too simplistic to represent reality. If the relationship between truth and power is a far more complex one than he claims, then it calls into question Foucault’s claims that his genealogical project is the way to distance oneself from totalitarian thought.
There is also a question as to how internally consistent Foucault is with his critique of totalitarian thought. Foucault does not make any value judgments on differing types of discourses; there are ones that can be more entrenched than others, but he would never call them “good” or “bad.” Therefore, any discourse is one that he will advocate critiquing in a way that exposes its intertwined relationship with power. But is it possible that when trying to get away from totalitarian thought Foucault commits some of his own? By labeling discourse as a pervasive actor that controls society, Foucault places it on a pedestal in a way that is totalizing in itself. He tries to distance himself from comprehensive theory by promoting a pluralized approach to politics, sure, but that promotion is in itself an enactment of totalizing thought. Readers of Foucault’s work are themselves engaging in a power relationship, for anyone who begins thinking differently from his ideas is doing so because the meanings in his writings are exerting some kind of influence. His writing might not be like regular philosophy’s search for a comprehensive truth or foundational basis for meaning (Plato, Kant, etc.), but it involves a discourse nonetheless. It is Foucault’s refusal to distinguish between “good” and “bad” discourses itself that creates the trap for himself. Since he doesn’t believe that discourses can be “liberating” in the traditional sense, that means Foucault can never escape the same kind of power relationships he tries to distance himself from.
Political Implications: Why Foucault?
The fact that Foucault provides no moral compass by which to evaluate different systems of power can itself be construed as a problem with his way of thought. While it might be simple for him to speak of the totalitarian nature of all true discourses, that doesn’t necessarily make for a good calculus for making political decisions. How is one supposed to be able to make weighed decisions when placed in a position to either support or resist any given political action? Being placed in such forced choices is often unavoidable; given how pervasive the symbols of any discourse are, it is simply untenable to actually adopt a policy of constant extreme genealogical criticism. Moreover, if the preceding paragraph is accurate, then it also means there is no reason why Foucault’s conception of how power works should be preferred to any other. This leaves Foucault in an awkward position: he conceives of himself as exposing the “truth” of how knowledge operates in society, yet he also criticizes modernity’s rush for the search of Truth. Instead of being able to move beyond the Enlightenment’s emphasis upon the faculty of reason, he instead just entrenches the importance of reason. For Foucault, the current of system of knowledge is inaccurate because it fails to grasp the role power has to play; he seeks to improve the clarity of knowledge by uncovering its genesis in discourse. This does nothing to diminish the all-powerful role that the notion of “truth” plays, quite the opposite.
Even if everything Foucault says is one hundred percent correct, that doesn’t necessarily mean that his philosophy should serve as the template for action. After all, if he envisions a bleak network of power that is inescapable, merely recognizable, then one is prompted to question the wisdom of taking Foucault all that seriously. He never provides much of a justification for why performing his type of genealogy is actually a good thing to do. Other philosophers always have some sort of goal that prompts their thinking - such as discovering the shining light of Truth, proving the existence of God, or rediscovering the Being of beings. The only reason Foucault seems to want to critique is because it opens up understanding that didn’t exist before. That is a laudable reason in and of itself, normally, but Foucault at the same time derides the “will-to-truth” and exposes it as a deployment of power. We are left, then, back at square one, and no identifiable benefit has been gained from engaging in Foucaldian critique.
Some would take this argument and extend it to the point of labeling Foucault as promoting a nihilist ideology. Since he would argue that there is no such thing as “freedom” or even an autonomous subject, it could be argued that every action, even his genealogies, is futile. A radical enough critique makes it seem as if all meaning in the world is merely a contrivance that has no fundamental basis, and can be shrugged off for no reason whatsoever. This kind of thinking does lead down the path that permits nihilism.
Normative judgments are perhaps violent in how they intermix truth and power, but they are necessary evils. Without them, there are no grounds to object to fascist states of government, nor oppression of any kind. Much like the meaningless that is portrayed in Existentialist works such as The Stranger, Foucault’s work leads to a state devoid of anything that is good or bad, and those are socially created ideas that just might be worthwhile to value.
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