Stress Production (Part 1 of 3)
So here’s what happens when you have to write 40 pages in 8 days and take an Astro final at 9 am. Interestingly enough, the Soc papers are the only ones that are legitimately decent (interesting because I’ve never been very good at writing Soc papers). The history paper is on the exact same topic as my last history research paper, except with new research (because I plan on trying to write a thesis on the topic). The Anthro paper is by far the worst of the 4. There are a number of reasons for this, most of them my fault. First, I could’ve done a much better job of relating social memory and fengshui to particularist social connections. Second, there’s very little in the way of a strong thesis, but I guess that’s ok because it’s a research paper. Third, even though this is a research paper, we were discouraged from using outside sources. Fourth, there’s no way in hell I could’ve comprehensively covered the entire topic in 15 pages. I admit, this is the one paper that I sort of rushed and skimped on. Maybe someday I’ll go back and do the topic justice.
A Sociological Study of Subversive Strategies
The bleak situation faced everyday by the working poor seems reason enough for resistance to capitalist domination. However, once a group selects resistance as a course of action, one must then ask how the group might enact, sustain, and complete their resistance. This question becomes increasingly more difficult once one considers the relative powerlessness of the working poor. Fortunately, those hoping to “throw off their chains” may reflect upon the works of Frances Fox Piven and Richard A. Cloward, James C. Scott, and John Gaventa. Indeed, each work considers different aspects and methods of resistance. Thus, Piven and Cloward examine the relative ineffectiveness of poor people’s movements, despite the greater necessity of resistance for the poor. In addition, Scott explores the divergence of popular/hidden transcripts from official/public transcripts and how the articulations of hidden discourses affect power structures. Finally, Gaventa proposes a three-dimensional model of power and explores the mechanisms of power and resistance within each dimension. Consequently, by carefully critiquing each author’s work, and then synthesizing their complementary aspects, the working poor may craft a strategy for resistance.
Poor People’s Movements maps out the limitations and constraints placed upon poor people’s protest movements. Among the most significant conclusions is the assertion that, “Whatever influences lower-class groups occasionally exert in American politics does not result from organization, but from the mass protest and the disruptive consequences of protest”. Another important conclusion is that, “only under exceptional conditions are the lower classes afforded the socially determined opportunity to press for their own class interests”. These “exceptional conditions” are defined when the authors quote Lefebvre, “A revolution takes place... when and only when, in such a society, people can no longer lead their everyday lives; so long as they can live their ordinary lives relations are constantly re-established”. Furthermore, the authors discern that although electoral politics cannot be an effective method of resistance, “the electoral system serves to measure and register the extent of the emerging disaffection.” Finally, the authors conclude that social position determines: the targets of resistance, the solidarity of diverse groups and individuals against their common oppression, and the opportunities and methods employed for resistance. Consequently, Poor People’s Movements suggests that there is a very specific time and place at which resistance is feasible, and the oppressed must take advantage of these opportunities through massive disruptions.
Piven and Cloward’s work contains many useful insights, although some objections are possible. One objection concerns Piven and Cloward’s assertion that organization is at best useless to poor people’s movements. However, this assertion has merit because it recognizes the need for poor people’s movements to react rapidly and opportunistically while exploiting economic and socio-political disruptions. In addition, Scott’s article complementarily reflects this need to situate resistance in the proper time and place; in Scott’s case, this time and place must have a prevalent, hidden transcript. On the other hand, the authors provide little evidence that all organizations are intrinsically ineffective and incapable of exploiting opportunities for resistance. Short-term and non-hierarchical organizations offer a possible counter-example. Furthermore, the authors discount a potential resistance role of electoral politics premised upon the general perception that electoral politics are the primary channel for political change. Thus, resistance movements may initially support election-based tactics, and upon their failure, draw attention to the gaps between an election’s perceived efficacy and its actual efficacy. Thus, contrary to the authors’ suggestion, electoral politics can function as more than a mere gauge of popular discontent; poor people’s movements can effectively employ electoral politics as a tactic of resistance. Finally, the authors’ conclusions concerning the importance of social position discount the possibility of cooperation between disparately situated groups and the increased power through solidarity between these groups. Thus, a striking transit worker who befriended low-level media employees could shutdown unsympathetic media outlets, although this possibility is not likely. Thus, despite certain objections, Poor People’s Movements delivers key insights into the efficacy of resistance.
In addition, Domination and the Arts of Resistance examines the relationship between public and private discourses and how these discourses are instruments for the reproduction and resistance of power. First, Scott defines the public transcript as “the open interaction between subordinates and those who dominate… where it is not positively misleading, it is unlikely to tell the whole story about power relations. It is frequently in the interest of both parties to tacitly conspire in misrepresentation”. Second, Scott defines the hidden transcript as, “derivative in the sense that it consists of those offstage speeches, gestures, and practices that confirm, contradict, or inflect what appears in the public transcript”. Finally, Scott relates his work to Weberian conceptions of power by explaining how charismatic authority is not an innate personality trait, but rather the timely and public articulation of hidden transcripts when subordinates are unified in their acceptance of this transcript. Indeed, Scott’s quotation of Richard Wright demonstrates that hidden transcripts represent wish fulfillment, namely the pragmatically suppressed desires to reciprocally resist oppression. It is when these wishes are fulfilled on a grand scale, such as a boxing match, that rebellion becomes pandemic. Thus, Domination and the Arts of Resistance places great emphasis on the role of charismatic action through fulfillment and/or public articulation of suppressed desires and discourses.
James C. Scott’s description of hidden and public transcripts allows for a more clear perspective concerning the nature of symbolic resistance; however, one may reject some points after a compressive critique. While Scott’s Old Tiennon example demonstrates how the public transcript is rarely particularly informative, Scott overemphasizes the interest of subordinates in maintaining deceptive masks. Indeed, if all transcripts were public, the resentment of subordinates would be public, but so would be the harshness and mechanisms of oppression. Moreover, Scott’s conception of hidden transcripts as derivative leads to an omission of those hidden transcripts which do not speak directly to or concern the hegemonic public transcripts. Indeed, not all subcultures are necessarily positioned in opposition to the mainstream; often they are opposed to other subcultures. Finally, Scott recognizes the need for proper attention to setting when publicly articulating a hidden transcript, and this recognition is complementary to Piven and Cloward’s recognition that resistance is only effective when social, political, or economic disturbances are widespread. Thus, despite some objections, one may employ Scott’s conception of charismatic resistance against hegemony.
Finally, John Gaventa’s book, Power and Powerlessness details three dimensions concerning the exercise and resistance of power. According to Gaventa, the first dimension deals with resource asymmetries and the open conflict over these resources. The second dimension relates to barriers and mobilization of bias concerning participation by subordinates. Finally, the third dimension relates to hegemonic control through the shaping of perceptions concerning the choices and desires of subordinates and the nature of the power relationship between dominator and dominated. Gaventa then argues that these dimensions are interrelated; thus, resistance in one dimension weakens power in the other dimensions, and the converse is true as well. Consequently, Gaventa’s conception of power implies a diversity of tactics as the most effective strategy for resistance.
In addition, Gaventa’s model of three-dimensional power structures is useful for evaluating techniques of resistance, though critical analysis of this model is useful. Thus, Gaventa’s critique of one or two-dimensional models is excellent and necessary. Indeed, one-dimensional models are classist in their assumption of low-cost alternatives to non-participation. Piven and Cloward make a similar point by demonstrating the impact of social position on the efficacy and methods of resistance. Moreover, these one-dimensional models fail to explain why lack of resources leads to lack of participation. In addition, two-dimensional models are inadequate because they fail to account for false consensus and the shaping of perceived choices and desires by the influence of power. Thus, Gaventa’s introduction of a third power dimension is reasonable. However, Gaventa over-emphasizes the efficacy of a diversity of tactics. Obviously, if elites monopolize all three dimensions of power, groups and individuals can work to erode this monopolization in all three dimensions simultaneously. However, if a subordinated group is aware of its desire to resist and has overcome the barriers against its participation, the first dimension remains as the only field for effective resistance. Consequently, Gaventa’s work would benefit from Scott’s or Piven and Cloward’s recognition of the proper time and place for different methods of resistance. However, despite these criticisms, Power and Powerlessness presents a compelling and analytically effective model for understanding the multi-dimensionality of power and resistance.
Thus, the works of Piven & Cloward, Scott, and Gaventa demonstrate the numerous pitfalls concerning methods of resistance. Indeed, Piven and Cloward demonstrate how groups should not emphasize the construction or maintenance of long-term resistance organizations. Moreover, groups should avoid poor conditions for resistance and methods ill-suited for their conditions. Thus, groups should await the opportunity presented by massive social, political, and/or economic disturbances and magnify these disturbances to the point at which the power system must change to survive. Scott provides elaboration for this sensitivity to setting by demonstrating the efficacy of publicly articulating a hidden transcript once this transcript is generalized among subordinates. Moreover, Gaventa’s conception of three-dimensional power fields represents another consideration concerning the matching of methods to conditions. Finally, groups must avoid the temptation to overemphasize electoral politics as a method of resistance. However, one should not completely discount the relation of electoral politics to resistance. Indeed, by revealing the pitfalls facing resistance movement, each article aids the drafting of a strategy for resistance.
Consequently, after reading each article, a strategy for resistance begins to take shape. Thus, a group could wait for opportune disturbances in the power structure, and then support resistance through elections, and finally, publicly articulate dissatisfaction with the inevitable discontinuity between goals and achievements. This public articulation corresponds to Gaventa’s third dimension by destroying the hegemonic faith in elections. Moreover, simultaneous resistance in the second dimension could involve the creation of alternative forms of resistance beyond dead-end elections. Thus, massive demonstrations could be effective. Finally, other groups could dispute the resource asymmetries of the first dimension through general strikes and direct action. Individuals and groups can choose their tactic of choice based on their embeddedness in the power structure and the opportunity of the hour. Thus, sociological analysis provides a plan for resistance.
Indeed, all three works deliver useful insights into planning and executing resistance against capitalist oppression. Piven and Cloward examine the efficacy of lower class resistance in the face of seemingly insurmountable resource/power disparities. Scott details the relation between public and hidden transcripts and the revolutionary consequences of making the hidden public. Finally, Gaventa proposes a three-dimensional model for analyzing power and resistance which takes into account the shaping of desires and perceptions of inequality through the influence of power. Thus, by synthesizing these three models and filling in their omissions, one learns much about the methods of making revolution.
Goffman and Foucault’s Complementary Conceptions of Bodily Power
Punishment of the body stands out as one of the most visible, and therefore most easily analyzed, forms of domination. As a result, both Erving Goffman and Michel Foucault devote a large portion of their writings to the symbolic role of the body within systems of power and domination. However, each author analyzes the body through different theoretical frameworks. Indeed, the differences between these frameworks are analytically significant and by no means incidental. Yet, these theoretical differences do not lead to contradictory conclusions and are therefore mutually consistent. Thus, Total Institutions and Discipline and Punish espouse divergent theoretical conceptions of bodily punishment; however, these conceptions lead to similar results.
Erving Goffman’s conception of bodily punishment relies upon a symbolic discourse of mortification. This mortification is first inflicted upon the body through dispossession and culminates in physical nakedness. Moreover, Goffman states, “Beatings, shock therapy, or in mental hospitals, surgery… may lead many inmates to feel that they are in an environment that does not guarantee their physical integrity.”
Consequently, actions performed on the body are a method of attacking and impinging on the unity of body and soul. Indeed, Goffman perceives physical punishment as a method of reducing the powers of the body. This weakened body is more susceptible to the mandates of power. Thus, mortification of the body creates vulnerabilities and openings for the exercise of power and domination.
In contrast, Michel Foucault’s conception of bodily punishment relies upon a symbolic discourse of exercises and observation. According to Foucault, “the modeling of the body produces a knowledge of the individual”. Consequently, the actions of power upon the body take the form of repetitive motion and the careful examination of these bodies and motions. According to Foucault, these exercises and observations culminate in the creation of a docile body, which he defined: “A body is docile that may be subjected, used, transformed and improved”. Consequently, Foucault sees punishment as a method for both reducing and increasing the power of the body, though in different spheres of activity: “Discipline increases the forces of the body (in economic terms of utility) and diminishes these same forces (in political terms of obedience)”. Indeed, Foucault understands physical punishment as a method of controlling, rather than attacking the body.
Moreover, the imagery employed by each author is starkly different. Thus, Foucault depicts the subordinated body as “Man the Machine”, controlled by various technical discourses. On the other hand, Goffman’s depiction of the subordinated body relies upon a metaphor of rape. Indeed, the primary materials of bodily domination for Goffman are defiling sets of filth. For Foucault, the primary materials of bodily domination are the instruments of observation, specifically, the Panopticon. Therefore, overtly violent methods are of less importance to Foucault’s conception of power because, “the perfection of power should tend to render its exercise unnecessary”. Consequently, Goffman’s conception of the disciplined body requires the addition of external materials; however, for Foucault, the disciplined body requires observation of its inner mechanics. Thus, the divergent imagery of Goffman and Foucault leads to divergent implications for the exercise of power.
Obviously, the differences between Foucault’s regulated body and Goffman’s contaminated body are more than incidental. Indeed, Goffman’s conception of the subordinated body implies a much more confrontational and adversarial relationship between dominator and dominated. On the other hand, Foucault’s subjected bodies will rarely have a direct confrontation with the vast majority of observers, technicians, and engineers of their own subjugation. Another substantive difference arises when one considers how Goffman’s total institutions require the constant intervention and expertise of trained officials in order to function on a daily basis. In the case of the Panopticon, Foucault points out, “Any individual, taken almost at random, can operate the machine”. Thus, Foucauldian systems of domination require little or no skill to operate. Consequently, the differences between Foucault’s and Goffman’s analyses of bodily domination are more substantive than incidental.
Despite their substantive differences, the authors arrive at mutually consistent conclusions; namely, bodily punishment shapes the identity of the dominated. It could be argued that Goffman’s “total institutions” completely erase personal identity upon the entrance of the subject. One could also argue that Foucault’s systems of bodily punishment impose a substituted identity, rather than simply destroying pre-existent identities. However, Foucault points out that for disciplined bodies, “It’s bravery or it’s strength are no longer the principal variables that define it, but the place it occupies, the interval it covers, the regularity, the good order according to which it operates its movements”. Thus, Foucauldian power systems do not create new identities; self-identity disappears and the individual becomes a mere cog in a larger machine. Thus, for both Foucault and Goffman, bodily punishment results in the erasure of self-identity.
Some might argue that the divergent methods of punishment considered by Foucault and Goffman create contradictory results; however, this is not the case. Following this line of argument, Foucault’s bodily discipline through exercise/observation and Goffman’s bodily discipline through contamination cannot create the same result. However, Goffman describes how imposed nakedness robs the individual of his methods and tools of identity formation. Indeed, quoting from a description of military discipline, Foucault details how discipline erases self-identity, “Place the bodies in a little world of signals to each of which is attached a single, obligatory response: it is a technique of training, of dressage, that ‘despotically excludes in everything the least representation, and the smallest murmur’”. Consequently, Foucault’s conception of bodily discipline, although less superficially violent, still results in the destruction of self-identity in order for more efficient operations of power. Of course, one could still argue that bodily exercises, as described by Foucault, impose upon bodies both to reduce and increase body power, whereas bodily contamination is purely an instrument for reducing body power. However, in both cases, the exercise of power systematically mutes or erases the will of the individual; thus, the improved utilitarian efficiency of the body does not create a contradiction between the theories.
Consequently, while there are substantive differences between Goffman’s and Foucault’s conception of domination through bodily punishment, both conceptions lead to similar results, namely, the destruction of self-identity in order to facilitate the exercise of power. Indeed, Foucault’s model of bodily punishment relies upon repetitive training and observation in order to arrange bodies into the most efficient system of power. In contrast, Goffman’s model concerns the destruction of self-identity through the defiling imposition of contaminating filth. Indeed, one cannot regard the differences between these two models as incidental. Moreover, with a well-constructed Foucauldian system of power, anyone can be an operator and the system requires little maintenance; however, Goffman’s system requires trained expertise and constant intervention. Yet, in both cases, the erasure of self-identity is the primary result. Indeed, while each system employs different methods, these methods facilitate the exercise of power. Consequently, both Goffman and Foucault’s conceptions of bodily punishment complementarily reveal the sociological mechanics of power and domination.
A Sociological Study of Subversive Strategies
The bleak situation faced everyday by the working poor seems reason enough for resistance to capitalist domination. However, once a group selects resistance as a course of action, one must then ask how the group might enact, sustain, and complete their resistance. This question becomes increasingly more difficult once one considers the relative powerlessness of the working poor. Fortunately, those hoping to “throw off their chains” may reflect upon the works of Frances Fox Piven and Richard A. Cloward, James C. Scott, and John Gaventa. Indeed, each work considers different aspects and methods of resistance. Thus, Piven and Cloward examine the relative ineffectiveness of poor people’s movements, despite the greater necessity of resistance for the poor. In addition, Scott explores the divergence of popular/hidden transcripts from official/public transcripts and how the articulations of hidden discourses affect power structures. Finally, Gaventa proposes a three-dimensional model of power and explores the mechanisms of power and resistance within each dimension. Consequently, by carefully critiquing each author’s work, and then synthesizing their complementary aspects, the working poor may craft a strategy for resistance.
Poor People’s Movements maps out the limitations and constraints placed upon poor people’s protest movements. Among the most significant conclusions is the assertion that, “Whatever influences lower-class groups occasionally exert in American politics does not result from organization, but from the mass protest and the disruptive consequences of protest”. Another important conclusion is that, “only under exceptional conditions are the lower classes afforded the socially determined opportunity to press for their own class interests”. These “exceptional conditions” are defined when the authors quote Lefebvre, “A revolution takes place... when and only when, in such a society, people can no longer lead their everyday lives; so long as they can live their ordinary lives relations are constantly re-established”. Furthermore, the authors discern that although electoral politics cannot be an effective method of resistance, “the electoral system serves to measure and register the extent of the emerging disaffection.” Finally, the authors conclude that social position determines: the targets of resistance, the solidarity of diverse groups and individuals against their common oppression, and the opportunities and methods employed for resistance. Consequently, Poor People’s Movements suggests that there is a very specific time and place at which resistance is feasible, and the oppressed must take advantage of these opportunities through massive disruptions.
Piven and Cloward’s work contains many useful insights, although some objections are possible. One objection concerns Piven and Cloward’s assertion that organization is at best useless to poor people’s movements. However, this assertion has merit because it recognizes the need for poor people’s movements to react rapidly and opportunistically while exploiting economic and socio-political disruptions. In addition, Scott’s article complementarily reflects this need to situate resistance in the proper time and place; in Scott’s case, this time and place must have a prevalent, hidden transcript. On the other hand, the authors provide little evidence that all organizations are intrinsically ineffective and incapable of exploiting opportunities for resistance. Short-term and non-hierarchical organizations offer a possible counter-example. Furthermore, the authors discount a potential resistance role of electoral politics premised upon the general perception that electoral politics are the primary channel for political change. Thus, resistance movements may initially support election-based tactics, and upon their failure, draw attention to the gaps between an election’s perceived efficacy and its actual efficacy. Thus, contrary to the authors’ suggestion, electoral politics can function as more than a mere gauge of popular discontent; poor people’s movements can effectively employ electoral politics as a tactic of resistance. Finally, the authors’ conclusions concerning the importance of social position discount the possibility of cooperation between disparately situated groups and the increased power through solidarity between these groups. Thus, a striking transit worker who befriended low-level media employees could shutdown unsympathetic media outlets, although this possibility is not likely. Thus, despite certain objections, Poor People’s Movements delivers key insights into the efficacy of resistance.
In addition, Domination and the Arts of Resistance examines the relationship between public and private discourses and how these discourses are instruments for the reproduction and resistance of power. First, Scott defines the public transcript as “the open interaction between subordinates and those who dominate… where it is not positively misleading, it is unlikely to tell the whole story about power relations. It is frequently in the interest of both parties to tacitly conspire in misrepresentation”. Second, Scott defines the hidden transcript as, “derivative in the sense that it consists of those offstage speeches, gestures, and practices that confirm, contradict, or inflect what appears in the public transcript”. Finally, Scott relates his work to Weberian conceptions of power by explaining how charismatic authority is not an innate personality trait, but rather the timely and public articulation of hidden transcripts when subordinates are unified in their acceptance of this transcript. Indeed, Scott’s quotation of Richard Wright demonstrates that hidden transcripts represent wish fulfillment, namely the pragmatically suppressed desires to reciprocally resist oppression. It is when these wishes are fulfilled on a grand scale, such as a boxing match, that rebellion becomes pandemic. Thus, Domination and the Arts of Resistance places great emphasis on the role of charismatic action through fulfillment and/or public articulation of suppressed desires and discourses.
James C. Scott’s description of hidden and public transcripts allows for a more clear perspective concerning the nature of symbolic resistance; however, one may reject some points after a compressive critique. While Scott’s Old Tiennon example demonstrates how the public transcript is rarely particularly informative, Scott overemphasizes the interest of subordinates in maintaining deceptive masks. Indeed, if all transcripts were public, the resentment of subordinates would be public, but so would be the harshness and mechanisms of oppression. Moreover, Scott’s conception of hidden transcripts as derivative leads to an omission of those hidden transcripts which do not speak directly to or concern the hegemonic public transcripts. Indeed, not all subcultures are necessarily positioned in opposition to the mainstream; often they are opposed to other subcultures. Finally, Scott recognizes the need for proper attention to setting when publicly articulating a hidden transcript, and this recognition is complementary to Piven and Cloward’s recognition that resistance is only effective when social, political, or economic disturbances are widespread. Thus, despite some objections, one may employ Scott’s conception of charismatic resistance against hegemony.
Finally, John Gaventa’s book, Power and Powerlessness details three dimensions concerning the exercise and resistance of power. According to Gaventa, the first dimension deals with resource asymmetries and the open conflict over these resources. The second dimension relates to barriers and mobilization of bias concerning participation by subordinates. Finally, the third dimension relates to hegemonic control through the shaping of perceptions concerning the choices and desires of subordinates and the nature of the power relationship between dominator and dominated. Gaventa then argues that these dimensions are interrelated; thus, resistance in one dimension weakens power in the other dimensions, and the converse is true as well. Consequently, Gaventa’s conception of power implies a diversity of tactics as the most effective strategy for resistance.
In addition, Gaventa’s model of three-dimensional power structures is useful for evaluating techniques of resistance, though critical analysis of this model is useful. Thus, Gaventa’s critique of one or two-dimensional models is excellent and necessary. Indeed, one-dimensional models are classist in their assumption of low-cost alternatives to non-participation. Piven and Cloward make a similar point by demonstrating the impact of social position on the efficacy and methods of resistance. Moreover, these one-dimensional models fail to explain why lack of resources leads to lack of participation. In addition, two-dimensional models are inadequate because they fail to account for false consensus and the shaping of perceived choices and desires by the influence of power. Thus, Gaventa’s introduction of a third power dimension is reasonable. However, Gaventa over-emphasizes the efficacy of a diversity of tactics. Obviously, if elites monopolize all three dimensions of power, groups and individuals can work to erode this monopolization in all three dimensions simultaneously. However, if a subordinated group is aware of its desire to resist and has overcome the barriers against its participation, the first dimension remains as the only field for effective resistance. Consequently, Gaventa’s work would benefit from Scott’s or Piven and Cloward’s recognition of the proper time and place for different methods of resistance. However, despite these criticisms, Power and Powerlessness presents a compelling and analytically effective model for understanding the multi-dimensionality of power and resistance.
Thus, the works of Piven & Cloward, Scott, and Gaventa demonstrate the numerous pitfalls concerning methods of resistance. Indeed, Piven and Cloward demonstrate how groups should not emphasize the construction or maintenance of long-term resistance organizations. Moreover, groups should avoid poor conditions for resistance and methods ill-suited for their conditions. Thus, groups should await the opportunity presented by massive social, political, and/or economic disturbances and magnify these disturbances to the point at which the power system must change to survive. Scott provides elaboration for this sensitivity to setting by demonstrating the efficacy of publicly articulating a hidden transcript once this transcript is generalized among subordinates. Moreover, Gaventa’s conception of three-dimensional power fields represents another consideration concerning the matching of methods to conditions. Finally, groups must avoid the temptation to overemphasize electoral politics as a method of resistance. However, one should not completely discount the relation of electoral politics to resistance. Indeed, by revealing the pitfalls facing resistance movement, each article aids the drafting of a strategy for resistance.
Consequently, after reading each article, a strategy for resistance begins to take shape. Thus, a group could wait for opportune disturbances in the power structure, and then support resistance through elections, and finally, publicly articulate dissatisfaction with the inevitable discontinuity between goals and achievements. This public articulation corresponds to Gaventa’s third dimension by destroying the hegemonic faith in elections. Moreover, simultaneous resistance in the second dimension could involve the creation of alternative forms of resistance beyond dead-end elections. Thus, massive demonstrations could be effective. Finally, other groups could dispute the resource asymmetries of the first dimension through general strikes and direct action. Individuals and groups can choose their tactic of choice based on their embeddedness in the power structure and the opportunity of the hour. Thus, sociological analysis provides a plan for resistance.
Indeed, all three works deliver useful insights into planning and executing resistance against capitalist oppression. Piven and Cloward examine the efficacy of lower class resistance in the face of seemingly insurmountable resource/power disparities. Scott details the relation between public and hidden transcripts and the revolutionary consequences of making the hidden public. Finally, Gaventa proposes a three-dimensional model for analyzing power and resistance which takes into account the shaping of desires and perceptions of inequality through the influence of power. Thus, by synthesizing these three models and filling in their omissions, one learns much about the methods of making revolution.
Goffman and Foucault’s Complementary Conceptions of Bodily Power
Punishment of the body stands out as one of the most visible, and therefore most easily analyzed, forms of domination. As a result, both Erving Goffman and Michel Foucault devote a large portion of their writings to the symbolic role of the body within systems of power and domination. However, each author analyzes the body through different theoretical frameworks. Indeed, the differences between these frameworks are analytically significant and by no means incidental. Yet, these theoretical differences do not lead to contradictory conclusions and are therefore mutually consistent. Thus, Total Institutions and Discipline and Punish espouse divergent theoretical conceptions of bodily punishment; however, these conceptions lead to similar results.
Erving Goffman’s conception of bodily punishment relies upon a symbolic discourse of mortification. This mortification is first inflicted upon the body through dispossession and culminates in physical nakedness. Moreover, Goffman states, “Beatings, shock therapy, or in mental hospitals, surgery… may lead many inmates to feel that they are in an environment that does not guarantee their physical integrity.”
Consequently, actions performed on the body are a method of attacking and impinging on the unity of body and soul. Indeed, Goffman perceives physical punishment as a method of reducing the powers of the body. This weakened body is more susceptible to the mandates of power. Thus, mortification of the body creates vulnerabilities and openings for the exercise of power and domination.
In contrast, Michel Foucault’s conception of bodily punishment relies upon a symbolic discourse of exercises and observation. According to Foucault, “the modeling of the body produces a knowledge of the individual”. Consequently, the actions of power upon the body take the form of repetitive motion and the careful examination of these bodies and motions. According to Foucault, these exercises and observations culminate in the creation of a docile body, which he defined: “A body is docile that may be subjected, used, transformed and improved”. Consequently, Foucault sees punishment as a method for both reducing and increasing the power of the body, though in different spheres of activity: “Discipline increases the forces of the body (in economic terms of utility) and diminishes these same forces (in political terms of obedience)”. Indeed, Foucault understands physical punishment as a method of controlling, rather than attacking the body.
Moreover, the imagery employed by each author is starkly different. Thus, Foucault depicts the subordinated body as “Man the Machine”, controlled by various technical discourses. On the other hand, Goffman’s depiction of the subordinated body relies upon a metaphor of rape. Indeed, the primary materials of bodily domination for Goffman are defiling sets of filth. For Foucault, the primary materials of bodily domination are the instruments of observation, specifically, the Panopticon. Therefore, overtly violent methods are of less importance to Foucault’s conception of power because, “the perfection of power should tend to render its exercise unnecessary”. Consequently, Goffman’s conception of the disciplined body requires the addition of external materials; however, for Foucault, the disciplined body requires observation of its inner mechanics. Thus, the divergent imagery of Goffman and Foucault leads to divergent implications for the exercise of power.
Obviously, the differences between Foucault’s regulated body and Goffman’s contaminated body are more than incidental. Indeed, Goffman’s conception of the subordinated body implies a much more confrontational and adversarial relationship between dominator and dominated. On the other hand, Foucault’s subjected bodies will rarely have a direct confrontation with the vast majority of observers, technicians, and engineers of their own subjugation. Another substantive difference arises when one considers how Goffman’s total institutions require the constant intervention and expertise of trained officials in order to function on a daily basis. In the case of the Panopticon, Foucault points out, “Any individual, taken almost at random, can operate the machine”. Thus, Foucauldian systems of domination require little or no skill to operate. Consequently, the differences between Foucault’s and Goffman’s analyses of bodily domination are more substantive than incidental.
Despite their substantive differences, the authors arrive at mutually consistent conclusions; namely, bodily punishment shapes the identity of the dominated. It could be argued that Goffman’s “total institutions” completely erase personal identity upon the entrance of the subject. One could also argue that Foucault’s systems of bodily punishment impose a substituted identity, rather than simply destroying pre-existent identities. However, Foucault points out that for disciplined bodies, “It’s bravery or it’s strength are no longer the principal variables that define it, but the place it occupies, the interval it covers, the regularity, the good order according to which it operates its movements”. Thus, Foucauldian power systems do not create new identities; self-identity disappears and the individual becomes a mere cog in a larger machine. Thus, for both Foucault and Goffman, bodily punishment results in the erasure of self-identity.
Some might argue that the divergent methods of punishment considered by Foucault and Goffman create contradictory results; however, this is not the case. Following this line of argument, Foucault’s bodily discipline through exercise/observation and Goffman’s bodily discipline through contamination cannot create the same result. However, Goffman describes how imposed nakedness robs the individual of his methods and tools of identity formation. Indeed, quoting from a description of military discipline, Foucault details how discipline erases self-identity, “Place the bodies in a little world of signals to each of which is attached a single, obligatory response: it is a technique of training, of dressage, that ‘despotically excludes in everything the least representation, and the smallest murmur’”. Consequently, Foucault’s conception of bodily discipline, although less superficially violent, still results in the destruction of self-identity in order for more efficient operations of power. Of course, one could still argue that bodily exercises, as described by Foucault, impose upon bodies both to reduce and increase body power, whereas bodily contamination is purely an instrument for reducing body power. However, in both cases, the exercise of power systematically mutes or erases the will of the individual; thus, the improved utilitarian efficiency of the body does not create a contradiction between the theories.
Consequently, while there are substantive differences between Goffman’s and Foucault’s conception of domination through bodily punishment, both conceptions lead to similar results, namely, the destruction of self-identity in order to facilitate the exercise of power. Indeed, Foucault’s model of bodily punishment relies upon repetitive training and observation in order to arrange bodies into the most efficient system of power. In contrast, Goffman’s model concerns the destruction of self-identity through the defiling imposition of contaminating filth. Indeed, one cannot regard the differences between these two models as incidental. Moreover, with a well-constructed Foucauldian system of power, anyone can be an operator and the system requires little maintenance; however, Goffman’s system requires trained expertise and constant intervention. Yet, in both cases, the erasure of self-identity is the primary result. Indeed, while each system employs different methods, these methods facilitate the exercise of power. Consequently, both Goffman and Foucault’s conceptions of bodily punishment complementarily reveal the sociological mechanics of power and domination.