The Revenge of the Real: Politics for a Post-Pandemic World - Benjamin Bratton

Published in 2021 by Verso Books, London, UK and Brooklyn, NY

166 pages

ISBN: 978-1-83976-256-7

Over the past year and a half, the Covid-19 pandemic upended the daily routine of our lives. During this time, many of us spent the majority of our hours quarantined as we struggled to keep each other safe from an invisible and deadly virus. In these times, proximity was always tinged with risk, as we moved from meeting in coffee shops and breweries to solely interacting in virtual spaces. Throughout the beginning of the pandemic, the United States completely mishandled our response to the disease. Due to the privatization of healthcare, hospitals were sorely understocked or even lacked proper PPE and ventilators. Testing was only available to a small section of the population (largely the wealthiest among us). The public messaging from institutions such as the CDC and WHO was inconsistent as we discovered more and more information about the virus, leading to an increased distrust in these organizations and their recommendations. Political leadership consistently downplayed the seriousness of the virus, and a litany of ineffective half-measures were implemented, often state-by-state. Large corporations consolidated their market shares, as small businesses shuttered their doors and millions of jobs were lost, forcing many into poverty.

Clearly, the Covid-19 outbreak accelerated the inherent contradictions within our capitalist system and revealed the extent to which it was unprepared to handle a massive public health crisis. Since the beginning of the pandemic, a litany of books have been written about the lessons of the virus and what they might teach us as we move forward (such as Zizek’s dual-volume Pandemic! and Pandemic! 2). Adding to this increasingly popular genre of post-pandemic literature, in his new book The Revenge of the Real: Politics for a Post-Pandemic World, Benjamin Bratton (Director of the Center for Design and Geopolitics at the University of California, San Diego) argues that this pandemic has revealed a deep crisis in Western governments. As we became more aware of our material, bodily impact on those around us (ie, my exhale is your inhale), Bratton argues, a fundamental biopolitical interconnectedness became apparent. As opposed to the “negative biopolitics” of Foucault and Agamben, Bratton posits a new positive biopolitics (which he names an “epidemiological view of society”) based on sensing, modeling, and appropriately responding to data. In this way, Bratton calls us to “imagine a world in which planetary society is able to deliberately compose itself with compassion and reason.”

Overview:

According to Bratton, during the 2020-21 coronavirus pandemic, the world’s population involuntarily participated in a global experimental study in comparative government. With the virus acting as the control variable, we’ve seen different responses from various governments, and these responses must inform the way we structure our society. One of the greatest lessons, Bratton argues, is that we cannot understand society as merely a collection of individuals whose interests are opposed to the state. We see this in the difference between the responses of Western countries (such as the U.S. and UK) and Eastern countries (such as Singapore, Taiwan/Republic of China). The United States and the United Kingdom suffered from reactionary political populism and a preoccupation with individualism (cloaked in the language of “freedom” and “personal choice”), which slowed the ability to track, measure, isolate, and contain the virus through measures such as mask-wearing. 

By contrast, many Asian countries, as well as Scandinavia and New Zealand, were much more efficient in controlling the spread of the virus via widespread testing, contact tracing, and strict isolation. These measures were much more effective and widely supported by the public than they were in the US and UK, and Bratton argues that this boils down to a fundamental difference in understanding society. For example, those who adamantly refuse to wear a mask are not merely selfish; rather, they have a particular understanding of society that is defined as a collection of autonomous actors who can freely choose to engage (or disengage) in wider cultural, economic, and social exchanges. 

In this understanding of society and the self, risk is wholly individual, rather than collective. The coronavirus crisis makes obvious the glaring inadequacies of this individualized model of society. This is the revenge of the real; when a non-negotiable reality (ie. the virus) crashes through and upends our comfortable, if illusory understandings of the world around us. The virus is an intrusive reminder of the complex biological reality of the planet in which we live and is apathetic to the politicizing and moral lessons that we attempt to project upon it. For Bratton, we must break free of the mythic ways of seeing and understanding the world around us, and instead deal with reality. 

This hyper-individualized, internal mode of understanding the world around us that we must overcome, Bratton argues, finds its most pernicious expression in the negative biopolitics of Georgio Agamben. In a scathing polemic against Agamben, Bratton eviscerates Agamben’s conflation of control with oppression, arguing that Agamben is a wider representation of “Boomer Theory” that has instilled an intrinsic fear of surveillance within us. As opposed to this negative biopolitics, Bratton proposes a form of positive biopolitics, which he names an “epidemiological view of society.” 

Instead of thinking of biotechnology and surveillance as an oppressive imposition on the individual subject, Bratton argues that these technologies (or “sensing layers”) are essential as we construct more efficient infrastructures to handle the various crises that we face in the near future (health, climate, etc). For Bratton, this politics must be planetary in its focus as we prioritize the needs of humanity as a whole over nationalist boundaries. When we do not possess these sensing layers such as contact tracing, we are often grasping around in the dark, which leads to inefficient policies such as blanket lockdowns. Instead of simply tossing aside these concepts of surveillance, tracking, and measuring as oppressive and negative, Bratton argues that we need to have conversations about how these articulations of power are employed to more fully address the needs of a planetary society. 

Commendations:

There are many aspects of Bratton’s book that are well-worth commending. Although certainly dense in a few places, the page count is short (only 160+ pages), which makes for a relatively quick read. Additionally, the combination of his commentary on current events and the polemic language he utilizes (especially against Agamben) makes for an exciting read. It is certainly challenging in sections; Bratton questions traditional narratives surrounding concerns of surveillance and “Big Data.” Yet, with a bit of patience, the critique he levels against our current understandings of geopolitical organization makes this a necessary and worthwhile read. 

As we are hopefully moving into a post-pandemic world, Bratton rightly emphasizes that we need a better understanding of our place in the world and an increased capacity to measure and track cases. Against an obstinate form of individualism, Bratton astutely calls us to view ourselves as interconnected beings through his model of an “epidemiological view of society.” Faced with the current global health crisis (and an already-here and ever-looming climate crisis), we are having to face the reality that we are not simply wholly separate, autonomous subjects, but also interconnected and interdependent objects on a planet. While I think Bratton’s object-oriented ontology goes too far, it is still a timely wake-up call, and Bratton’s urgent tone pushes us to reconsider the discourse surrounding surveillance and how it can be utilized to protect citizens. 

When it comes to sharp critiques, Bratton castigates both fascism and anarchism as simply different forms of aestheticized, reactionary politics. While I’m not entirely convinced of this argument, his critique of anarchist protest and its relative ineffectiveness in a neoliberal, globalized society still rings a bit true. Bratton completely lambasts Agamben’s responses to the pandemic, often rightly so, even though I do think he goes too far and over-simplifies Foucault and Agamben in places. I also believe that the pandemic has revealed the inherent limitations of the biopolitical project, as it regards the state with total suspicion while often remaining silent in regards to the effects of capital.

I am likewise prone to see the virus as an interruption of the Real (or an Event, perhaps), an while I’m skeptical of a positive biopolitics, I do think that Bratton’s critique of our current geopolitical weaknesses is apt. With Bratton, I agree that we must not reflexively view the state and its technological “sensing layers” as simply an exercise of oppressive power. Rather, when focused toward collective ends, these tools can help us fight against the individualist ideology of late-stage capitalism. While I have much more sympathy than Bratton does for the more libertarian forms of the Left, I do think that his defense of the state is an important and necessary intervention.

Critique:

On the other hand, Bratton’s solution of positive biopolitics in service of an “epidemiological view of society” is woefully underdeveloped. Bratton admits that he wrote the entire book in the span of a few weeks (6), so it should come as no surprise that it is not well-developed. Yet, Bratton tends to lean heavily on techno-futurist solutions to the crises we are facing and tends to brush off any criticism with virulent snark and mocking derision. While he does not believe that these technologies will create post-pandemic positive biopolitics (160), Bratton believes that they will be necessary if we ever hope to move beyond individuation and toward a planetary society of reason and computation. 

While I agree that there needs to be a greater conversation about the roles of biotechnology and surveillance in organizing our societies, Bratton seems to wave off any concerns with offhanded insults and straw-men takedowns. Bratton shows no concern regarding the creation of a surveillance state (which he deems a conspiracy) and instead calls for more well-developed “sensing layers” of technological surveillance and tracking. He mocks those who are concerned with data privacy and ethics (148), which is a huge red flag for me in terms of staving off the potential use of these technologies by authoritarian regimes. While I wholly agree with Bratton that we need not be instinctively averse to the role of the state in Leftist politics, I am much more empathetic to the concerns that these more libertarian types have regarding the dangers of mass surveillance.

Bratton seems to believe that any form of metaphysical beliefs, internal reflections of the subject, or individualistic concerns are annoying obstructions to creating a society of inclusion and care. Bratton’s ethics of the object, while a necessary intervention, is not holistic to addressing the concerns of the human subject. We must be attentive to the ideological underpinnings of a diverse set of people, communicate to them in their language, and build coalitions across a wide spectrum of beliefs to effectively make substantive change. Bratton paints different worldviews with an incredibly wide brush (especially when it comes to the social upheavals of summer 2020 and the Black Lives Matter movement), and he constantly constructs strawmen of opposing viewpoints rather than engaging them in good faith. There’s no real grappling with the irrationality of human beings and how to address the individual on their level, as Bratton chooses instead to lambast any dissenting opinion with condescension. Bratton’s incendiary, polemical tone is more off-putting than effective; he goes from philosophical musings to sharp, yet shallow Twitter-level insults rather quickly, which makes for an uneven and potentially alienating read. 

Furthermore, Bratton’s philosophical critique of Agamben, while certainly warranted, is also rather one-dimensional and particularly mean-spirited. Alongside Bratton, I’m also not a huge fan of Foucault and Agamben’s utilization of biopower. As I wrote earlier, I believe that this pandemic has revealed the inherent shortcomings of the biopolitical model of society. Additionally, I completely understand Bratton’s vitriol against Agamben, especially considering the Italian philosopher’s rhetoric regarding the nature of the pandemic (which I believe is logically consistent with his principles). 

Yet, Bratton’s solution of positive biopolitics against Agamben’s negative biopolitics is frustratingly vague and ignores the danger of a purely rational, epidemiological society that Agamben explicitly warns us against. Since there is no elaboration on how this society will remain democratic, Bratton seems to not see the inherent danger in such a society and its potential to be utilized for authoritarian ends. There’s no real grappling with the issues of automation and the tensions that will arise as we transition to such a positive biopolitical society, as Bratton leaves the details of such a system vague and non-descript, and the few details of this system contain echoes of many technocratic, antihumanist themes. He derides left-libertarian approaches in favor of a top-down approach to planning, a view in which I think is more susceptible to authoritarianism as opposed to more grassroots, democratic, bottom up approaches (toward which I am much more sympathetic). While I agree that there is a role for the state in a properly Leftist project, I also think it must be in coordination with democratic, bottom-up support and organizing. Bratton’s vision, by contrast, seems to be a form of technocratic governance that is not necessarily beholden to the demands of democratic processes, a view which I find quite troubling.

He also blithely dismisses Agamben’s critique as mere “magical thinking,” further deriding any form of the metaphysical or spiritual significance of the human subject as being incompatible with a rational, caring, and inclusive society. There’s a type of New Atheist polemic tinge to Bratton’s disdain for all things metaphysical (which he deems “illusory”), and such a perspective is unhelpful for building wide-spanning coalitions across a wide spectrum of beliefs. Bratton seems wholly unconcerned with how human beings create and sustain meaning in their lives, and his epidemiological view of society is more focused on managing a collection of human objects, rather than working to help human subjects flourish and find meaning in their lives. Human beings are not simply objects to be managed; they are also subjects who are involved in a complex, fluid relationship with their social and material conditions. By reducing the human to simply an object to be measured and managed, Bratton’s intervention fails to address the most visceral, fundamental aspects of what it means to live as a human subject, and will thereby unlikely appeal to those who are already resistant to his project. 

That was the most frustrating part of this book: I agree with several of Bratton’s interventions (though I would not necessarily go as far), but his divisive and mean-spirited tone throughout the book made me averse to the ideas he presented. I fully realize that this is an aesthetic argument, but when it comes to convincing others of his ideas, Bratton seems to be preaching to the choir rather than effectively drawing in those on the fence about his project. These ideas and conversations are deeply important for the future of our societies; it’s just unfortunate that they are presented in such a dense and tonally alienating manner. I’m sure that Bratton and I would have a great conversation face to face, and despite some key disagreements, I do sympathize with him on many counts. While I understand that Bratton’s tone is in large part due to its urgent purpose, a more measured and empathetic approach could have made this book appeal to a wider audience. 

Conclusion: 

In short, The Revenge of the Real is a fiery, interesting, yet sorely incomplete examination of the role of biopolitics in addressing both the current Covid crisis and how society should be organized in its wake. While Bratton’s ideas regarding the increased role of “sensing layers” in serving the needs of humanity are well-worth considering, its execution feels rushed and his incendiary, polemical language will alienate most of those who do not already agree with him. Though short on practical, concrete solutions and mired in vague technocratic language, Bratton’s intervention and contribution to political discourse are still important to consider as we think our way through the rest of this pandemic and beyond.