1NC---New Trier---Round 4

1NC---Off Case
 1NC---OFF
T:
Our interpretation is that the affirmative must defend the desirability of topical
action.
Violation---they don’t
Most Predictable - The text of the resolution calls for debate on hypothetical
government action.
Ericson 3 (Jon M., Dean Emeritus of the College of Liberal Arts – California Polytechnic U., et al., The
Debater’s Guide, Third Edition, p. 4)

The Proposition of Policy: Urging Future Action In policy propositions, each topic contains certain key elements , although they have slightly
different functions from comparable elements of value-oriented propositions. 1. An agent doing the acting ---“The United States” in
“The United States should adopt a policy of free trade.” Like the object of evaluation in a proposition of value, the agent is the subject
of the sentence. 2. The verb should—the first part of a verb phrase that urges action. 3. An action verb to follow should in the should-
verb combination. For example, should adopt here means to put a program or policy into action though governmental

means. 4. A specification of directions or a limitation of the action desired. The phrase free trade, for example, gives direction and limits to the topic, which
would, for example, eliminate consideration of increasing tariffs, discussing diplomatic recognition, or discussing interstate commerce. Propositions of policy deal
with future action. Nothing has yet occurred. The entire debate is about whether something ought to occur . What you agree to
do, then, when you accept the affirmative side in such a debate is to offer sufficient and compelling reasons for an audience to perform the future action that you
propose.

“Resolved” before a colon means legislative forum.

ACC 13 # Army Career College. 12. Punctuation -- The Colon and Semicolon, United States Army,
Warrant Officer Career College, Last Reviewed: December 19, 2013,
http://usacac.army.mil/cac2/wocc/ColonSemicolon.asp

The colon introduces the following: A list, but only after "as follows," "the following," or a noun for which the list is an appositive: Each scout will
carry the following: (colon) meals for three days, a survival knife, and his sleeping bag. The company had four new officers: (colon) Bill Smith, Frank Tucker, Peter
Fillmore, and Oliver Lewis. A long quotation (one or more paragraphs): In The Killer Angels Michael Shaara wrote: (colon) You may find it a different story from the
one you learned in school. There have been many versions of that battle [Gettysburg] and that war [the Civil War]. (The quote continues for two more paragraphs.)

A formal quotation or question : The President declared: (colon) "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself." The question is: (colon) what can
we do about it? A second independent clause which explains the first: Potter's motive is clear: (colon) he wants the assignment. After the introduction of a business
letter: Dear Sirs: (colon)Dear Madam: (colon) The details following an announcement For sale: (colon) large lakeside cabin with dock A formal resolution,
after the word "resolved :" Resolved: (colon) That this council petition the mayor.

‘The USFG’ denotes the three branches.

U.S. Legal 16, organization offering legal assistance and attorney access, “United States Federal
Government Law and Legal Definition,” https://definitions.uslegal.com/u/united-states-federal-
government/

The U nited S tates F ederal G overnment is established by the US Constitution. The Federal Government shares sovereignty over the United Sates with the
individual governments of the States of US. The Federal government has three branches: i) the legislature , which is the US Congress,
ii) Executive , comprised of the President and Vice president of the US and iii) Judiciary . The US Constitution prescribes a system of
separation of powers and ‘checks and balances’ for the smooth functioning of all the three branches of the Federal Government. The US Constitution
limits the powers of the Federal Government to the powers assigned to it; all powers not expressly assigned to the
Federal Government are reserved to the States or to the people.

Security cooperation refers to government assistance designed to achieve allied

strategic objectives
Bolko Skorupski Serafino 16, Research Assistant; Specialist in International Security Affairs Nina M.
Serafino; Congressional Research Service, 8/23/16, “DOD Security Cooperation: An Overview of
Authorities and Issues,” https://sgp.fas.org/crs/natsec/R44602.pdf

Terminology : Security Assistance and Security Cooperation

“Security assistance” and “security cooperation” are two terms that refer to U.S. activities to train, equip, and otherwise
assist foreign partners. The term security assistance is a generic term used throughout the U.S.
government to describe assistance provided to foreign military and security forces, regardless of the agency
providing that assistance. However, DOD uses the term security assistance to refer specifically to assistance provided under Title 22
authority, funded with monies appropriated to the State Department and managed by the Defense Security Cooperation Agency (DSCA), an
agency under the Office of the Secretary of Defense, Policy.3

DOD defines “security cooperation” as a broad set of activities undertaken by DOD to encourage and
enable international partners to work with the United States to achieve strategic objectives . Included in the
definition are DOD interactions with both foreign defense and foreign nonmilitary security establishments.
Security cooperation includes all DOD-administered security assistance programs that (1) build defense
and security relationships that promote specific U.S. security interests , including all international armaments
cooperation activities and security assistance activities; (2) develop allied and friendly military capabilities for self-
defense and multinational operations; and (3) provide U.S. forces with peacetime and contingency access to host nations.4
According to DOD, security assistance is a subset of DOD’s security cooperation portfolio.

Authority for DOD to conduct security cooperation activities is enacted in two primary places: Title 10 (Armed
Forces) U.S.C. and N ational D efense A uthorization A cts.

Vote NEG
1--- fairness--- the ballot can only resolve procedural fairness which is important for
preserving the game. Straying from the resolution point takes away all equitable
ground and makes it impossible to be neg since we would have to prepare for every
theory of power they could read.
2--- clash--- a lack of a clear stasis point makes it impossible to directly engage with
the aff or research any part of it--- that prevents us from gaining portable skills out of
round--- even if individual rounds do not affect our subjectivity, it shapes the critical
thinking skills we gain and other research practices.
 1NC---OFF
Ballot PIK:
We affirm the entirety of the 1AC sans the ballot---

It is a moment of interest convergence between the Affirmative and the judge – this
rhetorical alliance repeats the strategic attitude of the system it seeks to overturn.
Chow 93 – Andrew W. Mellon Professor of the Humanities @ Brown - 1993 (Rey, Writing Diaspora:
Tactics of Intervention in Contemporary Cultural Studies, p. 16-17)
Why are "tactics" useful at this moment? As discussions about "multiculturalism,' "interdisciplinarity," "the third world intellectual," and other
companion issues develop in the American academy and society today, and as rhetorical claims to political change and
difference are being put forth, many deep-rooted, politically reactionary forces return to haunt
us. Essentialist notions of culture and history; conservative notions of territorial and linguistic
propriety, and the "otherness” ensuing from them; unattested claims of oppression and
victimization that are used merely to guilt-trip and to control ; sexist and racist reaffirmations of sexual and racial
diversities that are made merely in the name of righteousness— all these forces create new "solidarities" whose
ideological premises remain unquestioned. These new solidarities arc often informed by a
strategic attitude which repeats what they seek to overthrow. The weight of old ideologies being reinforced over
and over again is We need to remember as intellectuals that the battles we fight are battles of words. Those
who argue the oppositional standpoint are not doing anything different from their enemies and
are most certainly not directly changing the downtrodden lives of those who seek their survival in
metropolitan and nonmetropolitan spaces alike. What academic intellectuals must confront is thus not their
"victimization" by society at large (or their victimization-in-solidarity-with-the-oppressed), but the power,
wealth, and privilege that ironically accumulate from their "oppositional" viewpoint, and the
widening gap between the professed contents of their words and the upward mobility they gain
from such words. (When Foucault said intellectuals need to struggle against becoming the object
and instrument of power, he spoke precisely to this kind of situation .) The predicament we face in the West,
where intellectual freedom shares a history with economic enterprise, is that "if a professor wishes to denounce aspects of big business, ... he
will be wise to locate in a school whose trustees are big businessmen."28 Why
should we believe in those who continue
to speak a language of alterity-as-lack while their salaries and honoraria keep rising? How do we resist the
turning-into-propriety of oppositional discourses, when the intention of such discourses has been that of displacing and disowning the proper?
How do we prevent what begin as tactics—that which is "without any base where it could
stockpile its winnings" (de Certeau, p. 37)—from turning into a solidly fenced-off field, in the military
no less than in the academic sense?
 1NC---OFF
CAP K:
Endorse political organizing foreclosed by the 1AC’s refusal as an alternative to capital.
Kevin Ochieng-Okoth 20, M.Phil. in Political Theory from the University of Oxford, 1/16/2020, “The
Flatness of Blackness: Afro-Pessimism and the Erasure of Anti-Colonial Thought,”
https://salvage.zone/issue-seven/the-flatness-of-blackness-afro-pessimism-and-the-erasure-of-anti-
colonial-thought/

In the colonial situation, a racist social structure cannot be thought separately from class exploitation and a
racist-capitalist power structure. For the Nkrumah of Class Struggle in Africa, capitalist exploitation and racism are
complementary -- ‘wherever there is a race problem it has become a linked with the class struggle’ .
Genuine progress in the struggle against imperialism can only be made if intellectuals adopt Marxism
and engage with other Communist organisations that encourage a close contact with workers and peasants.
African socialists, thus, must align themselves with the oppressed masses and become conscious of class
struggle in Africa.
As Beninese philosopher Paulin Hountondji has convincingly shown in his comparison of the 1964 edition and the 1970 edition of Nkrumah’s
Consciencism, his thought developed further towards class analysis after the 1966 US-backed military coup, where his government was
overthrown while he was away on a state visit to North Vietnam and China. In the 1964 edition, Nkrumah still emphasised the socialist
elements inherent in African traditional culture; in the 1970 edition he is much more cautious with this claim. This shift of emphasis is also
strikingly clear in his 1967 paper ‘African Socialism Revisited’, where he sharply criticises the African socialists who have associated it ‘much
more with anthropology than with political economy’ and fetishised African communal life by deluding themselves that it was devoid of social
hierarchy. Following the military coup, Ghana cultivated a closer relationship with the US (and associated ‘international’ organisations such as
the IMF and World Bank), and cut ties with the Soviet Bloc. The coup was, of course, carried out by US-backed neo-colonial forces -- and the
second wave of African socialism may help us further understand the internal and external forces driving this process.

The second wave of African socialism -- or what is frequently called Afro-Marxism -- emerged in the mid
1970s, although the period of preparation for the revolutionary struggle began much earlier. This
second phase of socialism on the continent was characterised by the adherence to the principles of
official Marxist-Leninism with its focus on a vanguard party that leads the way in a socialist revolution ,
in countries like Burkina-Faso, Somalia, Congo-Brazaville, Madagascar, Libya, Benin and Ethiopia (although the latter was more militaristic in
character than revolutionary). The most radical among this wave, however, were the liberation movements in African Portuguese colonies, who
were not constitutional nationalist movements -- as the previous African socialists had been -- but rather revolutionary movements that sought
to overthrow the existing social structures and refashion these along socialist lines. Among the most influential proponents of Afro-Marxism are
Amílcar Cabral of Guinea-Bissau and Cape Verde, Agostinho Neto of Angola, Samora Machel of Mozambique, and Thomas Sankara of Burkina-
Faso. Lusophone Afro-Marxists faced much tougher conditions than those of the previous wave of African socialists: one need only consider the
decade long civil war fought by the People’s Movement for the Liberation of Angola (MPLA) against National Union for the Total Independence
of Angola (UNITA) rebels in Angola, or the Frelimo’s armed struggle against Renamo in Mozambique, with both rebel groups having received
significant funding and support from the US and apartheid South Africa.

Because the second wave of African socialists had studied the mistakes of the first, its leaders were
acutely aware of the dangers of internal opposition and the nature of class relations within their respective
countries. In Unity and Struggle, Amílcar Cabral sheds some light on the dynamics driving this process of internal
opposition . His theory of neocolonialism can help us understand why African socialist experiments , such
as that of Nkrumah failed. In the neo-colonial constellation , Cabral argues, imperialist action often takes the form
of creating a native bourgeoisie that is loyal to the bourgeoisie of the imperialist nations. This class of
native agents emerges from the petty bourgeoisie of bureaucrats and intermediaries in the trading
system. Their loyalty to the imperialist bourgeoisie stifles the development of national productive
forces , and inevitably leads to underdevelopment . Hence, this class cannot possibly guide the
development of productive forces, and cannot be a truly national bourgeoisie . Under neocolonialism, the struggle
for the ‘independent’ state (and political power) is thus between the native working class and imperialist capital. As sharp class distinctions
emerge, and demobilise nationalist forces, other ties such as tribal solidarity make their way to the forefront of politics; the only escape from
this predicament is the destruction of capitalist and imperialist structures ‘implanted in the national soil’.

What Cabral’s analysis can help us understand is why anti-colonial movements were more concerned with the relations of production or the
security of territorial boundaries than the eradication of some anti-Black racism. Unlike
Mbembe or the AP™, these
movements realised that national sovereignty was an indispensible aspect of the struggle against
racism (not anti-Blackness) on a global scale. Cabral argued that neocolonialism (as one form of imperialist domination)
works on two different levels: both in Europe and in the underdeveloped countries. In Europe, the
working class had been pacified through the development of a privileged proletariat that could lower the
revolutionary level of the working classes (i.e. labour aristocracy). Similarly, the late Egyptian economist Samir Amin argued that the privileges
of those in the Global North, upheld by their control of key monopolies like technology, global finance and media, make it more difficult for an
internationalist left to emerge. To be non-Eurocentric, Amin argues, we must address how the ruling classes of the Global
North exert control over the South.

Unfortunately, this has failed to happen. The decline of an anti-imperialist left, and the increasing
susceptibility of scholars and activists to the pipe dream of a social democracy that doesn’t rely on
racism and the super-exploitation of workers in the Global South i.e. what Sandro Mezzadra and Mario Neuman call
‘Wohlfahrsstaat-Populismus’ (welfare state populism) in Jenseits von Interesse und Identität, points towards such failure. In the
days of anti-colonial revolutions, class exploitation and racial or national oppression were fused in the
imperialist order. Today, the same applies. Racism still plays a significant role in structuring imperialism
-- we should take seriously those who attempted to analyse this interconnection and put aside
ontological and flat theories of Blackness that preclude any struggle against imperialism by severing
all ties between those who are racialised as Black and other non-white workers.

In ‘Racial Formation in an Age of Permanent War’, Nikhil Pal Singh argues that racialised
groups in the US are incorporated
into a system of racialised wage differentials and precarious labour; they represent the relative surplus
population in the US. The security state manages ‘civilisational threats to the nation’ (i.e. its surplus population)
by deporting immigrant labour, encouraging mass incarceration and militarising the US border, making
those who have been racialised more vulnerable to state violence . But in the contemporary imperialist
configuration, value created by the super-exploitation of racialised workers still flows from the Global
South to the Global North, where this value is appropriated by multinational companies , the nation
states they are based in, and the people that reside in these nation states , as Tony Norfield’s The City and John
Smith’s Imperialism in the Twenty-First Century show. We must therefore think seriously about how the nation state

structures the process of racialisation in the core and in the periphery, and how different national
forms of racialisation exist within an imperialist world system .

Given these political-economic realities, the study of race (and consequently also of Blackness) is always
enmeshed in a political struggle : this forces us to consider the political implications of our theoretical
analysis . True, we can acknowledge that racism has been written into the ‘base’ of capitalism. And, as
with the Césaires’ strategic essentialism , there is a space for the affirmation of a positive Blackness directed
at challenging colonial prejudices still tied into the national fabric of states in the Global North.
Nonetheless, we must also recognise that there is a dire need for anti-imperialist South-South
cooperation . It is easy to forget that the global left discourse was once shaped by such debates: the
examples of the Panthers in Algeria, Cabral’s visits to Cuba, Cuban support of the MPLA in Angola, and
more, illustrate just how many Black people (including African-American organisations like the Panthers and Amiri Baraka’s
Congress of Afrikan People) felt the need for a cross-racial push against colonialism , neocolonialism and

imperialism .
There exists a political and intellectual tradition that has tried to bring the interconnection between race, neocolonialism and imperialism to the
forefront of radical politics. The
erasure of this tradition -- stretching from Sankara and Cabral to Samir Amin -- has only served
to embolden ontological theories of Blackness and racialisation that take an African-American diasporic
and alienated perspective as a priori truth and have no purpose or meaning for those struggling against
the realities of imperialist super-exploitation and national oppression on the ground . As Thomas Sankara
forcefully put it in his speech before the UN General Assembly: ‘Down with imperialism! Down with neo-colonialism! […] Eternal victory to the
peoples of Africa, Latin America and Asia in their struggle! Fatherland or death: we shall triumph.’

The 1AC misses the mark---starting with the University ensures their over-
intellectualized, utopian project detracts from material solidarity and crowds out
opportunities for collectivized action.
Webb 18—Senior Lecturer in Education at the University of Sheffield (Darren, “Bolt-holes and breathing spaces in the system: On forms of
academic resistance (or, can the university be a site of utopian possibility?),” Review of Education, Pedagogy, and Cultural Studies, 40:2, 96-118,
dml)

It is easy to be seduced by the language of the undercommons. Embodying and enacting it , however,
is difficult indeed . Being within and against the university, refusing the call to order through insolent
obstructive unprofessionalism, is almost impossible to sustain . Halberstam (2009, 45) describes the undercommons as “a marooned
community of outcast thinkers who refuse, resist, and renege on the demands of rigor, excellence, and productivity.” A romantic and appealing notion for
sure but refusing and reneging on “the university of excellence” will cost you your job . When Moten describes
subversion as a “series of immanent upheavals” expressed through “vast repertoires of high-frequency complaints, imperceptible frowns, withering turns, silent sidesteps, and ever-vigilant
attempts not to see and hear” (2008, 1743), one is reminded instantly of Thomas Docherty, disciplined and suspended for his negative vibes.7 Being with and for the maroon community is

“Where and how can we find/see the Undercommons at work?” (Ĉiĉigoj, Apostolou-Hölscher, and Rusham 2015,
difficult too. First of all,

265). Where and how can one find those liminal spaces of sabotage and subversion, and how does one

occupy them in a spirit of hapticality, study, and militant arrhythmia that brings the utopic underground to the surface of the fierce and urgent now? Beautiful
language, but how does one live it ? Networks do, of course, exist—the Undercommoning Collective, the Edu-Factory Collective, the
International Network for Alternative Academia, to name but a few. These are promising spaces for bringing together and harboring

the maroons and the fugitives. But networks are typically short-lived , and—as Harney and Moten warned—there is a
danger of institutionalization , of taking institutional practices with you into alternative spaces
“because we’ve been inside so much ” (Harney and Moten 2013, 148). And so, predictably , meetings of the fugitives
come with structure , order , an official agenda, and circulated minutes. The outcasts convene in conventional academic conferences, with parallel sessions, panels of
papers, lunch breaks, wine and nibbles (e.g., Edu-Factory 2012). These spaces offer time out , welcome respite , a breathing space, a trip abroad, and
then one returns to work . If hapticality, the touch of the undercommons, is “a visceral register of
experience … the feel that what is to come is here” (Bradley 2014, 129--130), then this seems elusive . It is hard to detect a sense of the utopic undercommons
rising to the surface of the corporate-imperial university. Moten describes the call to disorder and to study as a way to “excavate

new aesthetic, political, and economic dispositions” (Moten 2008, 1745). But this notion of excavating is highly
problematic . It is common within the discourse of “everyday utopianism” —finding utopia in the everyday, recovering lost or
 to describe the process of utopian recovery in terms of excavating :
repressed transcendence in “everydayness” (Gardiner 2006)—

excavating repressed desires, submerged longings, suppressed histories, untapped possibilities. But the
fundamental questions of where to dig and how to identify a utopian “find” are never adequately
addressed (see Webb 2017). Gardiner defines utopia as “a series of forces, tendencies and possibilities that are
immanent in the here and now, in the pragmatic activities of everyday life” (2006, 2). But how are these
forces, tendencies and possibilities to be identified and recovered ? For Harney and Moten, it is through
study , hapticality and militant arrhythmia . These are slippy concepts , however, evading concrete
material referents . What is it to inhabit the undercommons? Those who have written of their experiences refer to “small acts of marronage” such as poaching resources and
redeploying them in ways at odds with the university’s designs and demands (Reddy 2016, 7), or exploiting funding streams “to form cracks in the institution that enable the Others to invade
the university” (Smith, Dyke, and Hermes 2013, 150). For Adusei-Poku (2015), the undercommons is a space of refuge which is all about survival (2015, 4--5). We who feel homeless in the

university are forced into refuge. We gather together to survive. We may gain satisfaction from small acts of marronage , but this is
less about bringing the utopic common underground to the surface as it is a form of “ radical escapism ”
(Adusei-Poku 2015, 4). Benveniste (2015, v) tells us that: “The undercommons has no set location and no return address. There is no map for entering and no guide for staying. The only

condition is a living appetite. Listen to its hunger for difference.” We need more than poetry , however. And we need more than a series of
minor acts of resistance. As Srnicek and Williams rightly emphasize, resistance is a defensive , reactive gesture , resisting
against . Resistance is not a utopian endeavour : “We do not resist a new world into being ” (Srnicek and Williams
2016, 47). The undercommons, when one can find it, is a bolt hole , a place of refuge , a breathing space in
the system. We need something more . The occupation Can the occupied building operate as a site of utopian possibility within the corporate-imperial
university? Reflections on, and theorizations of, two recent waves of occupation—“Occupied California” 2009--2010 and the UK Occupations 2010--2011—have answered this question
affirmatively. The “occupation” should not be understood here as solely or necessarily “student occupation.” It goes without saying—though sadly so often does need saying —that “faculty
also have a responsibility to fight with and for students” (Smeltzer and Hearn 2015, 356). Though led by a new historical subject, “the graduate without a future” (Schwarz-WeinStein 2015, 11), the importance of faculty
support for the occupations was emphasized on both sides of the Atlantic (Research and Destroy 2010, 11; Dawson 2011, 112; Holmes and R&D and Dead Labour 2011, 14; Ismail 2011, 128; Newfield and EduFactory 2011, 26). Long before Occupy took shape in Zuccotti Park, “occupation”
was being heralded as the harbinger of a new society and a new way of being. If we return to the notion of creating utopian spaces, the key aim for some of the occupiers was to create communes within the university walls—to communize space (Inoperative Committee 2011, 6).8
Communization here is understood as a form of insurrectionary anarchism that refuses to talk of a transition to communism, insisting instead upon the immediate formation of zones of activity removed from exchange, money, compulsory labor, and the impersonal domination of the
commodity form (Anon 2010a, 5). As one pamphlet declared: We will take whatever measures are necessary both to destroy this world as quickly as possible and to create, here and now, the world we want: a world without wages, without bosses, without borders, without states. (Anon
2010d, 34) This is a revolutionary anarchism that takes the university campus as the site for a practice—communization—that not only prefigures but also realizes the vision of a free society. Heavily influenced by The Coming Insurrection (Invisible Committee 2009), but tapping into a long
tradition of anarchist theory and practice from Hakim Bey’s Temporary Autonomous Zones (Bey 1985) to David Graeber’s Direct Action (Graeber 2009), occupation becomes “the creation of a momentary opening in capitalist time and space, a rearrangement that sketches the contours of
a new society” (Research and Destroy 2010, 11). It is “an attempt to imagine a new kind of everyday life” (Hatherley 2011, 123). Firth (2012) refers to these momentary openings as critical, experimental utopias: Such utopias are … simultaneously immanent and prefigurative. They are
immanent insofar as they allow space for the immediate expression of desires, satisfaction of needs and also the articulation of difference or dissent. They are prefigurative to the extent that they allow one to practice and exemplify what one would like to see at a more proliferative range
in the future (26) The ultimate aim is for the practice to spread beyond the campus through a dual process of provocative rupture—the idea that insurrectionary moments can unleash the collective imagination and stimulate an outpouring of creativity that blows apart common sense and
offers glimpses of a future world (Gibson-Graham 2006, 51; Shukaitis and Graeber 2007, 37)—and “contaminationism,” that is, spreading by means of example (Graeber 2009, 211). It may well have been the case that communism was realized on the campuses of Berkeley and UCL, that a
momentary opening in capitalist space/time appeared through which another world could be glimpsed. The occupation, however—whether California, London, or anywhere else—is likely always to remain a localized temporary disruptive practice. A practice with utopian potency, for
sure, in terms of suspending normalized forms of discipline and opening new egalitarian discursive spaces (Rheingans and Hollands 2013; Nişancioğlu and Pal 2016). In terms of wider systemic change, however, “small interventions consisting of relatively non-scalable actions are highly
unlikely to ever be able to reorganise our socioeconomic system” (Srnicek and Williams 2016, 29). What “the occupation” demonstrates more than anything is the reality of the corporate-imperial university, as the institutional hierarchy, backed by the carceral power of the police and
criminal justice system, inevitably disperses the occupiers—often using militarized force—and repossesses the occupied space in a strong assertion of its ownership rights not only to university buildings but also to what constitutes legitimate thought and behavior within them (on this see
Docherty 2015, 90). The significance, and utopian potential, one attaches to campus occupations depends in part upon the significance one attaches to the university as a site of struggle. For the Edu-Factory Collective: As was the factory, so now is the university. Where once the factory
was a paradigmatic site of struggle between workers and capitalists, so now the university is a key space of conflict, where the ownership of knowledge, the reproduction of the labour force, and the creation of social and cultural stratifications are all at stake. This is to say the university is
not just another institution subject to sovereign and governmental controls, but a crucial site in which wider social struggles are won and lost. (Caffentzis and Federici 2011, 26) Clearly, if this is true, then the form the struggle takes, and the example it sets, is of immense significance.
Srnicek and Williams describe as “wishful thinking” the idea that the occupation might spread beyond the campus by means of rupture or contamination (2016, 35). However, if the university really is a key site of class struggle (Seybold 2008, 120; Haiven and Khasnabish 2014, 38), a site
through which wider struggles are refracted and won or lost, then the transformative potential of the occupation needs to be attended to seriously. The analysis of the university offered by the Edu-Factory Collective is, however, outdated. Sounding like Daniel Bell writing in 1973 about
how universities had become the “axial structures” of post-industrial society (Bell 1973, 12), the analysis does not hold water today. Moten overdoes it when he tells us that “the university is a kind of corpse. It is dead. It’s a dead institutional body” (Moten 2015, 78). What is clear,
however, is that “focusing on the university as a site of radical transformation is a mistake” (Holmes and R&D and Dead Labour 2011, 13). As has been widely noted, there is very little distinguishing universities from other for-profit corporations (Readings 1996; Lustig 2005; Washburn
2005; Shear 2008, Tuchman 2009). What does separate them is their inefficiency, due in large part to the fact that universities operate also as medieval guilds, with faculties “ruled by masters who lord over journeymen and apprentices in an artisanal system of production” (Jemielniak
and Greenwood 2015, 77). If the university is a sinister hybrid monstrosity—part medieval guild, part criminal corporation—which has no role other than reproducing its own privilege, then no special status can be attributed to campus protests. In this case, “A free university in the midst
of a capitalist society is like a reading room in a prison” (Research and Destroy 2010, 10). A reading room in a prison. Another apposite metaphor. The occupation is a safe space, offering temporary respite, a place to hide, a refuge, a bolt-hole, a breathing space. As with the utopian
classroom and the undercommons, what the occupation suggests is that “defending small bunkers of autonomy against the onslaught of capitalism is the best that can be hoped for” (Srnicek and Williams 2016, 48). Conclusion Zaslove was right to characterize utopian pedagogy within
the corporateimperial university as the search for bolt-holes and breathing spaces in the system. He himself suggests that, “All university classes should become dialogic-experiential models that educate by expanding the zones of contact with wider communities” (2007, 102). Like so
many others, Zaslove sees dialogic-experiential models of education beginning in the classroom then expanding outward. The literature is full of references to “exceeding the limits of the university classroom” (Coté, Day, and de Peuter 2007a, 325), “extend [ing] beyond the boundaries of
the campus” (Ruben 2000, 211), and “breeching
the walls of the university compounds and spilling into the streets” (Research and Destroy 2010, 10). This all brings to mind Giroux’s notion of academics as
border crossers (Giroux 1992), but it also paints a picture of academics taking as their starting point the university and from there crossing the border into the community and the street.

The University can be the site for fleeting , transitory , small-scale experiences of utopian possibility—in
the classroom, the undercommons, the occupation. It cannot be the site for transformative utopian politics . It cannot even be
the starting point for this . Given the corporatization and militarization of the university, academics are increasingly becoming “functionaries of elite interests” inhabiting
a culture which serves to reproduce these interests (Shear 2008, 56). Within the university, “radical” initiatives or movements will soon
be co-opted , recuperated , commodified , and neutralized (Gibson-Graham 2006, xxvi; Seybold 2008, 123; Neary 2012b, 249; Rolfe 2013,
21). Institutional habitus weights so heavily that projects born in the university will be scarred from the
outset by a certain colonizing “ imaginary of education ” (Burdick and Sandlin 2010, 117). And we have long known that the
university is but one space of learning , and perhaps not a very important one at that. Identifying the
academy as the starting point for a utopian pedagogy privileges this arcane space over sites of public
pedagogy such as film, television, literature, sport, advertising, architecture, media in its various forms, political organizations, religious institutions, and the workplace (Todd 1997).
Perhaps the emphasis on creating radical experimental spaces within the academy needs to shift toward
operating in existing spaces of resistance outside it . Haiven and Khasnabish argue that many social movements
function already as “ social laboratories for the generation of alternative relationships , subjectivities ,
institutions and practices ” (2014, 62), providing “a space for experiments in knowledge production, radical
imagination , subjectification, and concrete alternative-building ” (Khasnabish 2012, 237). Why locate utopian pedagogy in the university when “critical
utopian politics” can take place in “infrastructures of resistance” such as intentional communities, housing collectives, squats, art centers, community theatres, bars, book shops, health

Moving
collectives, social centers, independent media and, increasingly of course, the digital sphere (Firth 2012; Shantz 2012; Amsler 2015; Dallyn, Marinetto, and Cederstrom 2015)?

beyond short-term , localized , temporary modes of resistance, utopian pedagogy would work across
these sites to develop a long-term strategy and vision . There is a role for the academic in utopian
politics, but not in the university-as-such . The utopian pedagogue has a responsibility to exploit their own privilege
and to work with students, communities and movements outside and divorced from the university . As Shear rightly notes, academics
(and especially those working in the humanities and social sciences) “inhabit a privileged space in which critical inquiry concerning social hegemony and political-economic

domination” is possible (Shear 2008, 56). Within the university, however, spaces for embodying and enacting this

kind of inquiry have become constrained , compromised , monitored , surveilled , co-opted , and
recuperated . As I have argued throughout this article, utopian pedagogy has become a search for bolt-holes and
breathing spaces in the system. Beyond the academy , however, there is a role to play . As Chomsky (2010) tells us,
with privilege comes responsibility. And as Giroux frames it, this is an ethical and political responsibility to provide
“ theoretical resources and modes of analysis ” to help forge “a utopian imaginary ” (Giroux 2014a; 153; 2014b, 200).
This means putting one’s knowledge and resources to use in the service of a collaborative process of
memory- and story-making, pulling together disparate inchoate dreams and yearnings in order to generate a utopian vision that can help inform ,
guide , and mobilize long-term collective action for systemic change .

Capitalism ensures climate oppression and extinction.

Heron & Dean 20 (Kai Heron, editor at ROAR Magazine. Jodi Dean, Professor of Political Science at Hobart and William Smith
Colleges. “Revolution or Ruin.” E-Flux. Journal #110 - June 2020. https://www.e-flux.com/journal/110/335242/revolution-or-ruin/ //shree)

We know how the first paragraph begins. We’ve read about the changing climate for over twenty years, infrequently at first and then daily until
we couldn’t deny it any longer. The
world is burning. The oceans are heating up and acidifying. Species are dying
in the Sixth Great Extinction. Koalas have replaced polar bears as the charismatic species whose dwindling numbers bring us to tears.
Millions are displaced and on the move, only to be met with fences, borders, and death.
We’ve read the news and it keeps getting worse. As pandemics spread, as the climate crisis continues unabated, the imperatives of capital
prevent state action on anything but protecting banks and corporations. Since 1988, when human-induced climate change was officially
recognized by the establishment of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC), the oil and gas sector has doubled its contribution
to global warming. The industry emitted as much greenhouse gas over the twenty-eight years after 1988 as it had in the 237 years since the
beginning of the industrial age. Regular reports announce that the
atmospheric impact of these emissions is manifesting
faster than scientists previously expected. The IPCC clock tells us that we have eleven years to prevent
warming from rising more than 1.5 degrees above preindustrial levels. Some places on earth already hit that mark in the
summer of 2019. “Climate change”—that innocuous moniker preferred by Republican political consultant Frank Lutz and adopted by the
George W. Bush administration because “global warming” seemed too apocalyptic—has moved from seeming far away and impossible to being
here, now, and undeniable. This has not stopped the United States and Canada from providing economic relief funds in the wake of coronavirus
to oil and gas companies.

Those least responsible for climate change, those who have suffered the most from capitalism’s
colonizing and imperial drive, are on the frontlines of the climate catastrophe . How to find clean water
amidst never-ending drought? How to gather needed herbs, food , and firewood amidst rapid deforestation ?
How to survive the floods and fires? Centuries of colonialism, exploitation , and war undermine people’s
capacities to survive and thrive , hitting poor people, women, children, people with disabilities, already
disadvantaged racialized and national minorities, and the elderly hardest of all. According to a UN report, “We risk a
‘ climate apartheid ’ scenario where the wealthy pay to escape overheating, hunger and conflict while
the rest of the world is left to suffer.” Capitalism has always permitted some to flourish by forcing others to fight for survival. The
climate crisis—and now the coronavirus—intensifies these dynamics into a global class war. In Marx’s words, “ruin or revolution
is the watchword” for our times.

The alternative is to affirm the dual power model of the Communist Party – only the
Party can provide effective accountability mechanisms to correct unproductive
tendencies, educate and mobilize marginalized communities, and connect local
struggles to a movement for international liberation
Escalante 18 (Alyson Escalante is a Marxist-Leninist, Materialist Feminist and Anti-Imperialist activist. “PARTY ORGANIZING IN THE 21ST
CENTURY” September 21st, 2018 https://theforgenews.org/2018/09/21/party-organizing-in-the-21st-century/)

I would argue that within the base building movement, there is a move towards party organizing, but this trend has not always been explicitly
theorized or forwarded within the movement. My goal in this essay is to argue that base
building and dual power strategy can
be best forwarded through party organizing , and that party organizing can allow this emerging
movement to solidify into a powerful revolutionary socialist tendency in the United States. One of the crucial
insights of the base building movement is that the current state of the left in the United States is one in which
revolution is not currently possible. There exists very little popular support for socialist politics. A century of anticommunist
propaganda has been extremely effective in convincing even the most oppressed and marginalized that communism has nothing to offer them.
The base building emphasis on dual power responds directly to this insight. By building institutions
which can meet people’s needs, we are able to concretely demonstrate that communists can offer the
oppressed relief from the horrific conditions of capitalism. Base building strategy recognizes that actually doing the work
to serve the people does infinitely more to create a socialist base of popular support than electing democratic socialist candidates or holding
endless political education classes can ever hope to do. Dual power is about proving that we have something to offer the oppressed. The
question, of course, remains: once we have built a base of popular support, what do we do next? If
it turns out that establishing
socialist institutions to meet people’s needs does in fact create sympathy towards the cause of
communism, how can we mobilize that base? Put simply: in order to mobilize the base which base
builders hope to create, we need to have already done the work of building a communist party. It is
not enough to simply meet peoples needs. Rather, we must build the institutions of dual power in the
name of communism. We must refuse covert front organizing and instead have a public face as a
communist party. When we build tenants unions, serve the people programs, and other dual power projects, we must make it clear that
we are organizing as communists, unified around a party, and are not content simply with establishing endless dual power organizations. We
must be clear that our strategy is revolutionary and in order to make this clear we must adopt party
organizing. By “party organizing” I mean an organizational strategy which adopts the party model. Such
organizing focuses on building a party whose membership is formally unified around a party line
determined by democratic centralist decision making. The party model creates internal methods for
holding party members accountable , unifying party member action around democratically determined
goals, and for educating party members in communist theory and praxis. A communist organization utilizing the
party model works to build dual power institutions while simultaneously educating the communities they hope to serve. Organizations
which adopt the party model focus on propagandizing around the need for revolutionary socialism. They
function as the forefront of political organizing, empowering local communities to theorize their
liberation through communist theory while organizing communities to literally fight for their liberation. A
party is not simply a group of individuals doing work together, but is a formal organization unified in its fight against capitalism. Party organizing
has much to offer the base building movement. By working in a unified party, base builders can ensure that local struggles are tied to and
informed by a unified national and international strategy. While the most horrific manifestations of capitalism take on particular and unique
form at the local level, we need to remember that our
struggle is against a material base which functions not only at
the national but at the international level. The formal structures provided by a democratic centralist
party model allow individual locals to have a voice in open debate, but also allow for a unified strategy
to emerge from democratic consensus. Furthermore, party organizing allows for local organizations and
individual organizers to be held accountable for their actions. It allows criticism to function not as one
independent group criticizing another independent group, but rather as comrades with a formal
organizational unity working together to sharpen each others strategies and to help correct chauvinist
ideas and actions. In the context of the socialist movement within the United States, such accountability is crucial . As a
movement which operates within a settler colonial society, imperialist and colonial ideal frequently
infect leftist organizing. Creating formal unity and party procedure for dealing with and correcting these
ideas allows us to address these consistent problems within American socialist organizing. Having a formal
party which unifies the various dual power projects being undertaken at the local level also allows for base builders to not simply meet peoples
needs, but to pull them into the membership of the party as organizers themselves. The party model creates a means for sustained growth to
occur by unifying organizers in a manner that allows for skills, strategies, and ideas to be shared with newer organizers. It also allows
community members who have been served by dual power projects to take an active role in organizing by becoming party members and
participating in the continued growth of base building strategy. It ensures that there are formal processes for educating communities in
communist theory and praxis, and also enables them to act and organize in accordance with their own local conditions. We also must recognize
that the current state of the base building movement precludes the possibility of such a national unified party in the present moment. Since
base building strategy is being undertaken in a number of already established organizations, it is not likely that base builders would abandon
these organizations in favor of founding a unified party. Additionally, it would not be strategic to immediately undertake such complete
unification because it would mean abandoning the organizational contexts in which concrete gains are already being made and in which growth
is currently occurring. What is important for base builders to focus on in the current moment is building dual power on a local level alongside
building a national movement. This means aspiring towards the possibility of a unified party, while pursuing continued local growth. The
movement within the Marxist Center network towards some form of unification is positive step in the right direction. The independent party
emphasis within the Refoundation caucus should also be recognized as a positive approach. It is important for base builders to continue to
explore the possibility of unification, and to maintain unification through a party model as a long term goal. In the meantime, individual
base building organizations ought to adopt party models for their local organizing. Local organizations
ought to be building dual power alongside recruitment into their organizations, education of community
members in communist theory and praxis, and the establishment of armed and militant party cadres
capable of defending dual power institutions from state terror. Dual power institutions must be unified openly and
transparently around these organizations in order for them to operate as more than “red charities.” Serving the people means meeting their
material needs while also educating and propagandizing. It means radicalizing, recruiting, and organizing. The party model remains
the most useful method for achieving these ends. The use of the party model by local organizations allows base builders to
gain popular support, and most importantly, to mobilize their base of popular support towards revolutionary ends, not simply towards the
construction of a parallel economy which exists as an end in and of itself. It is my hope that we will see future unification of
the various local base building organizations into a national party, but in the meantime we must push for party
organizing at the local level. If local organizations adopt party organizing, it ought to become clear that a unified national

party will have to be the long term goal of the base building movement. Many of the already existing
organizations within the base building movement already operate according to these principles. I do not mean to suggest otherwise. Rather, my
hope is to suggest that we ought to be explicit about the need for party organizing and emphasize the relationship between dual power and the
party model. Doing so will make it clear that the base building movement is not pursuing a cooperative economy alongside capitalism, but is
pursuing a revolutionary socialist strategy capable of fighting capitalism. The long term details of base building and dual power organizing will
arise organically in response to the conditions the movement finds itself operating within. I
hope that I have put forward a useful
contribution to the discussion about base building organizing, and have demonstrated the need for
party organizing in order to ensure that the base building tendency maintains a revolutionary
orientation. The finer details of revolutionary strategy will be worked out over time and are not a good subject for public discussion. I
strongly believe party organizing offers the best path for ensuring that such strategy will succeed. My goal here is not to dictate the only
possible path forward but to open a conversation about how the base building movement will organize as it transitions from a loose network of
individual organizations into a unified socialist tendency. These discussions and debates will be crucial to ensuring that this rapidly growing
movement can succeed.
1NC---Case
 1NC---Presumption
[1] Vote neg on presumption –
A) Nothing spills over – there’s no connection between the ballot and chancing
people’s attitudes. You encourage more teams to read framework which turns your
offense and prevents the alteration of mindsets.
B) No warrant for a ballot – the competitive nature of debate coopts any ethical value
of advocating the aff – winning rounds only makes it look like they just want to win
which proves framework and means advocating by losing is more effective.
C) Debate – none of their evidence is specific to it – sets a high threshold for solvency
and ignores how communicative norms operate.
D) Voting aff doesn’t access social change, but voting neg resolves our procedural
impacts.
Ritter ‘13 (JD from U Texas Law (Michael J., “Overcoming The Fiction of “Social Change Through Debate”: What’s To Learn from 2pac’s
Changes?,” National Journal of Speech and Debate, Vol. 2, Issue 1)

The structure of competitive interscholastic debate renders any message communicated in a debate round
virtually incapable of creating any social change, either in the debate community or in general society. And to
the extent that the fiction of social change through debate can be proven or disproven through empirical
studies or surveys, academics instead have analyzed debate with nonapplicable rhetorical theory that fails to
account for the unique aspects of competitive interscholastic debate. Rather, the current debate relating to
activism and competitive interscholastic debate concerns the following: “What is the best model to promote social
change?” But a more fundamental question that must be addressed first is: “Can debate cause social change?”
Despite over two decades of opportunity to conduct and publish empirical studies or surveys, academic proponents of the fiction
that debate can create social change have chosen not to prove this fundamental assumption, which—as
this article argues—is merely a fiction that is harmful in most, if not all, respects. The position that competitive
interscholastic debate can create social change is more properly characterized as a fiction than an argument. A fiction is an
invented or fabricated idea purporting to be factual but is not provable by any human senses or rational thinking
capability or is unproven by valid statistical studies. An argument, most basically, consists of a claim and some support for why
the claim is true. If the support for the claim is false or its relation to the claim is illogical, then we can deduce that the particular argument does
not help in ascertaining whether the claim is true. Interscholastic competitive debate is premised upon the assumption that debate is
argumentation. Because fictions are necessarily not true or cannot be proven true by any means of argumentation, the
competitive
interscholastic debate community should be incredibly critical of those fictions and adopt them only if they promote
the activity and its purposes.
 1NC---Case Proper
Their method is unable to solve racialized structures or colonization---no one knows
what confronting racist epistemology means--- and debate isn’t key to this. Their ev is
generic about academic resistance, but they never answer the question of how the
game of debate can change the marginalization of black experience.
Debating about hypothetical political action improves the capacity, motivation, and
ability to inaugurate change in myriad areas of human activity
Leek ’16 [Danielle; November; MBA, PhD, instructor in the MA in communication program at Johns
Hopkins University; Communication Education, “Policy debate pedagogy: a complementary strategy for
civic and political engagement through service-learning,” https://edgemont.paperlessdebate.com/wp-
content/uploads/Policy-debate-pedagogy-a-complementary-strategy-for-civic-and-political-
engagement-through-service-learning.pdf]

Through policy debate, students can develop information literacy and learn how to make critical
arguments of fact. This experience is politically empowering for students who will also build
confidence for political engagement. Information literacy While there are many definitions of information
literacy, the term generally is understood to mean that a student is “able to recognize when
information is needed, and have the ability to locate, evaluate, and use effectively the information
needed” for problem- solving and decision-making (Spitzer, Eisenberg, & Lowe, 1998, p. 19). Information exists in a variety
of forms, in visual data, computer graphics, sound-recordings, film, and photographs. Information is also constructed and disseminated through
a wide range of sources and mediums. Therefore, “information literacy” functions as a blanket term which covers a wide range of more specific
literacies. Critiques of service-learning’s knowl- edge-building power, such as those articulated by Eby (1998) and Colby (2008), are chal- lenging
both the emphasis the pedagogy places on information gained through experience and the limited scope of political information students are
exposed to in the process. Policy debate can augment a student’s civic and political learning by fostering
extended information literacies . Snider and Schnurer (2002) identify policy debate as an especially
research intensive form of oral discussion which requires extensive time and commitment to learn the
dimensions of a topic. Understanding policy issues calls for contemplating a range of materials, from
traditional news media publications to court proceedings, research data, and institutional
propaganda . Moreover, the nature of policy debate, which involves public presentation of arguments on
two competing sides of a question, motivates students to go beyond basic information to achieve a
more advanced level of expertise and credibility on a topic (Dybvig & Iverson, n.d.). This type of work differs
from traditional research projects where students gather only the materials needed to support their
argument while neglecting contrary evidence . Instead, the “debate research process encourages a kind of
holistic approach, where students need to pay attention to the critics of their argument because they
will have to respond to those attacks” (Snider & Schnurer, 2002, p. 32). In today’s attention economy, cultivating
a sensibility for well- rounded information gathering can also aid students in recognizing when and
how the knowledge produced in their social environments can be effectively translated to specific
contexts . The “cultural shift in the production of data” which has followed the emergence of Web 2.0
technologies means that all students are likely “prosumers”—that is, they consume, produce, and
coproduce information online all at the same time (Scoble, 2011). Coupling service- learning with policy debate calls on
students to apply information across registers of public engagement, including their own service efforts and their own public argumentation, in
and outside of their debates. Information is used in the service experience, which in turn, informs the use of
information in debates, where students then produce new information through their argumentation .
The process is what Bruce (2008) refers to “informed learning,” or “using information in order to learn.” When individuals move
from learning how to gather materials for a task to a cognitive awareness and understanding of how
the information-seeking process shapes their learning, they are engaged in informed learning . Through
this process, students can come to recognize that information management and credibility is deeply disciplinary and historically con- textual
(Bruce & Hughes, 2010). This understanding, combined with practical experience in locating information, is a critical missing element in
contemporary political engage- ment. Over 20 years ago, Graber (1994) argued that one of the biggest obstacles to political engagement was
not apathy, but a gap between the way news media presents information during elections, and the type of information voters need and will
listen to during electoral campaigns. The challenge extends beyond elections into policy-making, especially as younger generations continue to
revise their notions of citizenship away from institutional politics towards more social forms of activism (Bennett, Wells, & Freelon, 2011). For
stu- dents to effectively practice more expressive forms of citizenship they need experience managing the breadth of information available
about issues they care about. As past research indicates a strong correlation between service-learning experience and the motiv- ation and
desire for post-graduation service, it seems likely that students who debate about policy issues related to service areas will continue their
informed learning practices after they have left the classroom (Soria & Thomas-Card, 2014). Arguing facts In
addition to building
information literacies, students who combine policy debate with service-learning can practice “politically
relevant skills,” which will help them have confidence for political engagement in the future . As Colby (2008)
explains, this confidence should be tempered by tolerance for difference and differing opinions. On the surface, debating about

institutional politics might seem counterintuitive to this goal. Politicians and the press have a
credibility problem among college-aged students, and this leaves younger generations less inclined to
feel obligated to the state or to look to traditional modes of policy- making for social change (Bennett et

al., 2011; Manning & Edwards, 2014). This lack of faith in government and media outlets also makes political
argument more difficult (Klumpp, 2006). Whereas these institutions once served as authoritative and
trustworthy sources of information, the credibility of legislators and journalists has decreased over the

last 40 years or so. Today, politicians and pundits are viewed as political actors interested in spectacle,
power, and profit rather than truth-seeking or the common good. While some political controversies are rooted in

competing values, Klumpp (2006) explains that arguments about policy are more often based in fact . Indeed, when
engaged in public arguments over questions of policy, people tend to “invoke the authority of facts to
support their positions .” Likewise, “ the governmental sphere has developed elaborate legal and
deliberative processes in recognition of the power of facts as the basis for a decision .” Yet, while
shared values are often quickly agreed upon, differences over fact are more difficult to resolve.
Without credible institutions of authority that can disseminate facts, public deliberation requires
more time, information-gathering, evaluation, and reasoning . The Bush administration’s decision to
take military action in Iraq, for example, was presumably based on the “fact” that Saddam Hussein
had acquired weapons of mass destruction. This has now become a classic example of poor policy-
making grounded in faulty factual evidence. This shortcoming is precisely why policy debate is a
valuable complement to service- learning activities . Not only can students use their developing
literacies to better understand social problems, they can also learn to access a broader range of
knowledge sources, thereby mitigating the absence of fact-finding from traditional institutions . Fur-
thermore, policy advocacy gives students experience testing the reasoning underlying claims of fact . Issues
of source credibility, analogic comparisons, and data analysis are three examples of the type of critical
thinking skills that students may need to apply in order to engage a question of policy (Allen, Berkowitz, Hunt, &
Louden, 1999). While the effect may be to undermine government action in some instances, in others students will gain a better understanding
of when and where institutional activities can work to make change. Asstudents gain knowledge about the relationship
between institutional structures and the communities they serve, they grow confidence in their ability
to engage in future conversations about policy issues . Zwarensteyn’s (2012) research high- lights these sorts of effects in
high school students who engage in competitive policy debate. Zwarensteyn theorizes that even minimal increases in technical

knowledge about politics can translate to significant increases in a student’s sense of self-efficacy .
Many students start off feeling very insecure when it comes to their mastery of insti- tutional politics;
policy debate helps overcome that insecurity . Moreover, because training in policy debate encourages
students to address issues as arguments rather than partisan positions, it encourages them to engage
policy-making without the hostility and incivility that often characterizes today’s political scene . Indeed, it
is precisely that perceived hostility and incivility that prompts many young people to avoid politics in the
first place. I do not mean to imply that students who debate about their service-learning experi- ences will draw homogenous conclusions
about policies. Quite the contrary. Students who engage in service-learning still bring their personal visions and history to bear on their
debates. As a result, students will often have very different opinions after engaging in a shared debate experience. More importantly, the
practice of debating should operate to particularize students’ knowledge of community partners and
clients, working against the destructive generalizations and power dynamics that can result when
students feel privileged to serve less fortunate “others .” For civic and political engagement through
service-learning to be meaningful and productive, it must do more to challenge students’ concepts of
the homogenous “we” who helps “them.” Seligman (2013) argues that this civic spirit can be cultivated through
the core pedagogical principle of a “shared practice,” which emphasizes the application of knowledge to
purpose (p. 60). Policy debate achieves this outcome by calling on students to consider and reconsider
their understanding of themselves, institutions, community, and policy every time the question “should”
may arise. As Seligman writes: ... the orientation of thought to purpose (having an explanation rest at a place, a
purpose) is of extreme importance. We must recognize that the orientation of thought to purpose is to
recognize moving from providing a knowledge of, to providing a knowledge for . This means that in the context
of encountering difference it is not sufficient to learn about (have an idea of) the other, rather it means to have ideas for certain joint purposes
—for a set of “to-does.” A purpose becomes the goal towards which our explanations should be oriented. (p. 61) Put another way, policy
debate challenges students “to maintain a sense of doubt and to carry on a systematic and protracted
inquiry” in the process of service-learning itself (Seligman, 2013, p. 60). This is precisely the type of complex, ongoing,
reflective inquiry that John Dewey had in mind. Political engagement through policy debate This essay began with a discussion of the growing
attention to civic engagement programs in higher education. The
national trend is to accomplish higher levels of student
civic responsibility during and after their time in college through service-learning experiences tied to
curricular learning objectives. A challenge for service-learning scholars and teachers is to recognize a
distinction between civic activities that are accomplished by helping others and political activities that
require engagement with the collective institutional structures and processes that govern social life.
Both are necessary for democracy to thrive . Policy debate pedagogy can help service-learning
educators accomplish these dual objectives. To call policy debate a pedagogy rather than just a style of
debate is purposeful. A pedagogy is a praxis for cultivating learning in others . The pedagogy of service-learning
helps students to know and engage social conditions through physical engagement with their environments and communities. Policy
debate pedagogy leads students to know and engage these same social conditions while also
challenging them to apply their knowledge for the purpose of political advocacy . These pedagogies are natural
compliments for cul- tivating student learning. Therefore, future studies should explore how well service-learn- ing combined with policy
debate can resolve concerns that policy debate alone does not go far enough to invest students with political agency (Mitchell, 1998). The
present analysis suggests the potential for such an outcome is likely. Moreover, research is clear that the civic effects of service-learning as an
instructional method are improved simply by increasing the amount of time spent on in-class discus- sion about the service work students do
(Levesque-Bristol, Knapp, & Fisher, 2010). Policy
debates related to students’ service can accomplish this goal and
more. Policy debates can also facilitate the political learning students need to build their political
efficacy and capacity for political engagement . Through informed learning about the political process—
especially in the context of service practice—students develop literacies that will extend beyond the
classroom. Using this knowledge in reasoned public argument about policy challenges invites students
to move beyond cynical disengagement towards a productive recognition of their own potential voice
in the political world . Policy debate pedagogy brings unique elements to the process of political
learning. By emphasizing the conditional and dynamic nature of political arguments and processes,
debates can work to relieve students of the misconception that there is a single “right answer” for
questions about policy-making and politics, especially during election time . The communication
perspective on policy debates also highlights students’ collective involvement in the ever-changing field
of political terms, symbols, and meanings that constitute interpretations of our social world . In fact, the
historical roots of the term “communication” seem to demand that speech and debate educators call
for such emphasis on political learning . “To make common,” the Latin interpretation of communicare, situ- ates our discipline
as the heart of public political affairs (Peters, 1999). Connecting policy debate to service-learning helps highlight the
common purpose of these approaches in efforts to promote civic engagement in higher education.

Structural changes only arise from the shifting of group interests – not academic
discourse.
Naomi Zack 16. professor of philosophy at the University of Oregon. She is author and editor of a
dozen books, including White Privilege and Black Rights: The Injustice of U.S. Police Racial Profiling and
Homicide (2015); The Ethics and Mores of Race: Equality after the History of Philosophy (2011); Ethics
for Disaster (2009). Applicative Justice: A Pragmatic Empirical Approach to Racial Injustice. Rowman &
Littlefield Publishers, Incorporated. Pages 125-134.

ACADEMIC INJUSTICE DISCOURSE Just law can coexist with unjust practice and both are parts of “ empirical law ”
or what Bendey called “the process of government .” Empirical law is constantly changing and some theorists
are optimistic that verbal discourse has the ability to make written law more just, even though the same unjust practices recur or new ones
emerge. These theorists, some of whom are or may aspire to become public intellectuals, hope that someday public political
discourse on behalf of those who are treated unjustly will have the power to interrupt a cycle of just
written law accompanied by continued unjust practice . That is, the “right” discourse perennially holds
the promise of changing the beliefs, values, and goals of everyone in the public auditorium , so that the
same kind of unjust practices do not perpetually chase the same kinds of just laws .11 This search for
“ magic words ” is futile for academics who are professionally confined to dry and abstract prose . Our
verbiage does not have the power to move the multitudes who do not read or listen to it anyway . But
even when multitudes are inspired and emotionally stirred by great orators, action that follows is
unlikely to result in lasting change, without the support of powerful interests . After the 1960s, academics began
a robust practice of liberatory discourse about injustice that seems to grow more impassioned and intense each year. The quest for
demographic diversity among students and faculty in higher education has weathered judicial defeat of explicit affirmative action policies, but
only partly for the sake of justice. There are pragmatic prizes if the academy can justify itself by producing a racially integrated leadership and
managerial class for business, politics, and the military. Top leaders throughout society realize that they need such racial diversity for broad
consumption, voter support, and boots on the ground, and the expression of that need is evident in amicus curiae briefs submitted to the US
Supreme Court as it has been torturously dismantling affirmative action, piece by piece, since Bakke in 1978.12 Academic political
discourse has been deeper than polemics and debate, exactly because of its disciplined intellectual origins in different fields of study (i.e.,
discipline imposed by distinct “disciplines”). But it has been swimming upstream against a more rarefied and older

academic tradition , particularly among many philosophers and their gate keepers outside of the profession. Even Hannah Arendt (see
chapter 2) spoke approvingly of the life of the mind as cut off from real political activity that occurred in the realm of “opinion.” In her 1970
interview with Adelbert Reif, Arendt addressed the phenomenon of college-stu-dent protestors, noting that they had brought social change
through optimistic belief in their ability to make a better world, while at the same time discovering joy in civic participation. Arendt credited
such protests with the success of the civil rights movement and progress toward ending the Vietnam War.13 As discussed in chapter 4, it is
doubtful that Arendt was correct that student protests caused the success of the civil rights movement. A historical analysis of the end to the
Vietnam War is beyond the present scope, but what we already know about empirical Bentleyan analyses would warrant skepticism about
Arendt’s causal thesis there as well. In the same interview, Arendt warned that demonstrations by student activists could be self-defeating in
democratic Euro-American contexts, because in attacking their universities, they were attacking the very entities that made their protests
possible, American universities, especially large state schools that were the sites of the protests Arendt had in mind, have perforce developed
very different financial structures since 1970. These schools have become increasingly dependent on private corporate and philanthropic
funding, with state government funds now a much reduced part of their budget. While this structural change is not generally viewed as an
incursion on academic freedom, it has been coincident with a very flat era of student protest and activism. Still, Arendt's notion of the "life of
the mind” remains useful if we consider that the progressive/change-seeking output of professional academics since 1970 has been
professionally accepted in the institutions that employ its participants. Also, much of today’s liberatory academic discourse can be viewed as
the legacy of earlier student protest, furthering a tradition that may have been founded when some of the 1960s student radicals became
professors. This indicates that the connection between academic radicals and the hands that feed them is not as simple as Arendt thought. In
the United States, everything now points to both the existence of real academic freedom and its real
ineffectiveness . Progressive academic writers ply a craft of formal speech that deals with contemporary
injustice through complex theoretical frameworks , with requisite scholarly apparatuses and without
translation into more simple views of the world ; there is often also a lack of translation from one
discipline to another or between subdisciplines in the same field. The audience is other academics and students . Neither
specialization nor the limited and partly captive audience should be viewed as problematic because that is the nature of academic work, given
broad social divisions of labor. But there is a problem with the delusional nature of so much of this work. The
delusion consists of a naive view of the power of academic speech to directly change reality . The
rhetorical mode of address used by academics writing cultural criticism , political philosophy, social philosophy, or
what is now called social-political philosophy (which combines the other subfield approaches), often proceeds as though its
authors are making grand entries in a planetary cabala , where words have the immediate power to
become their intended referents . Those who do not write and speak cabalistically may subscribe to the Trickle-
Down Good Ideas Theory that can be traced from Plato to John Stuart Mill to John Rawls. Subscription to that theory is
immediately self-flattering , but it lacks reliable empirical support .16 Although, after the US civil rights movement,
there has been an uncanny coincidence of race-blind formal racial equality with the hegemony in political philosophy of Rawls’s requirement
that those who plan fundamental social institutions do so in ignorance of their own societal environments. As we saw in chapter 1, Rawls was
quite explicit about this: I assume that the parties do not know the particular circumstances of their own society. That is, they do not know its
economic or political situation, or the level of civilization and culture it has been able to achieve. The persons in the original position have no
information as to which generation they belong.17 Both race-blind racial equality and Rawlsian ideals are compatible with race-based real
inequality. There are, of course, counter-examples, such as Katherine MacKinnon’s work on sexual harassment in the workplace as expressed in
current law and institutional policy.18 Nevertheless even very good academic political discourse about justice and
injustice cannot
be relied upon to attract implementation or application in real life . This may be because
there has not been sufficient time for the development of training programs for a new profession of
“bridgers,” who could translate good ideas in the academy for those who govern and make policy . An
internal problem for such translators would be to decide where to anchor their bridges in fields—every humanistic field—where experts
disagree. However, the current tradition of progressive academic writing and speech is less than half a century old and if and when such
translators emerge, they will develop their own professional criteria for choosing among contending experts. Public
media, as a
democratic analogue to disagreement within academic discourse, supports the idea that expressing and airing
views in day-to-day practices or special “national conversations” also have immediate practical results. It is not evident
how there could be such results , when opposing views and opinions are treated with the same respect
and have equal access to the same mass auditorium that lacks rules for evidence or valid argument . As
with academic discourse, there is no structured connection to official decision processes. The only
reliable result of participation in such unbinding referenda is that those who participate are able to
express themselves and get attention that may benefit them in the marketplace of their related endeavors. Public expression also
serves to, represent and create collective atmospheres of belief, attitude, and opinion. These atmospheres are implicitly known by a majority of
people in the culture, even though such knowledge is difficult to validate. Ambiguities cannot be resolved by recourse to public opinion polls,
because understanding the results of those polls requires creative interpretive skills that draw on what is already known about relevant
atmospheres. For example, suppose that more blacks than whites believe that white privilege is real and that O.J. Simpson was innocent, or
that more whites than blacks believe that white American police officers are not, in general, racially biased. Are the views of whites evidence of
racial bias or racial oblivion? Are the views of blacks evidence of racial preference or paranoia? Moreover, such polls almost always have a large
racial overlap of opinion: If 29 percent of blacks compared to 71 percent of whites believe X, then 71 percent of blacks and 29 percent of whites
do not believe X. Does this mean that the percentages of each group that does not contribute to the discrepancy in belief recorded in the polls
are in some degree of agreement? Experiments in social psychology could be designed to answer such questions and others like them, but it is
important to decide beforehand why the data is important and what it does and does not indicate. For instance, testing the claim that white
privilege is a reality of contemporary life requires some prior definition of what is meant by “white privilege,” which can range from injustice to
social courtesies. In a widely discussed 2013 experiment conducted in Queensland, Australia, economists Redzo Mujcic and Paul Frijters found
that the majority of free bus rides, based on conductor generosity, were dispensed to whites, with blacks least likely to receive this courtesy,
compared to all other racial groups among commuters. Journalist Britni Danielle, writing for a general audience on Yahoo News, touted this
study as evidence that “white privilege is real,” without distinguishing between an amenity such as a free bus ride and recognition of one’s
rights by not being subject to arbitrary stops and frisks by police officers.19 Conservatives reading Mujcic and Frijter’s study might say that the
bus driver may have been acting rationally based on past experience with unruly black passengers. From a progressive perspective, more
specifics would need to be introduced to defend the claim that this study revealed white privilege, such as controls for the apparent social class
and gender of passengers, as well as the preexisting racial climate among bus commuters in Queensland, as well as the broader racial
atmosphere throughout Australia in 2013. The 2015 Academy Awards What is racial atmosphere and climate? A US example that is also global
could help clarify these vague ideas, provided that it is understood beforehand that in this context, as in most public references to "race,"
‘racial” means “pertaining to racism.” From beginning to end, the 2015 Academy Awards ceremony hit racist notes that slid by unchecked,
because it was an occasion of celebration. Neil Patrick Harris, the host, began with what might have been a critical remark about the lack of
racial diversity among audience members and award winners: “Tonight we honor Hollywood’s best and whitest, sorry, bright est.” For those
who were uncomfortable with the lack of robust racial diversity among audience members and award winners, his remark might have validated
their unease. But those who would have been uncomfortable with more racial diversity may have been heard “best and whitest” as support for
their social values. (The discourse of white privilege as a critique of contemporary anti-nonwhite racism is, as indicated, that kind of double-
edged sword.) Midway through the ceremony, Patricia Arquette called for people of color and members of the lesbian, bisexual, gay, and
transgender (LBGT) community to support legislation for equal pay for women and to commit themselves to supporting women, thereby
overlooking the women who were either or both people of color and members of the LGВТ community. This kind of oversight may perhaps be
excused by Arquette’s ignorance of what academics have been for decades analyzing as “intersectionality.” But Sean Penn’s remark at the
grand finale awarding for Best Picture to Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, the Mexican director of Birdman, was simply, explicitly, racist: "Who gave
this son of a bitch a green card?” Inarritu later brushed off the insult by saying he found it "hilarious,” because “Sean and I have that kind of
brutal relationship. I think it was very funny.”20 Inarritu attempt at a “save” for Penn does not address the impact of Penn’s insult on other
Mexicans and Mexican Americans, including those without green cards who struggle to remain employed in the face of anti-immigrant
prejudice and discrimination. (That such a moment of maximum recognition was brought so low by a racist crack is not unusual in US culture,
where the nastiest forms of racist insult are often let loose on people of color who have succeeded.) As a spectacle watched by almost thirty-
four million, the 2015 Oscars, despite ratings lower than recent years, was a global public event.21 Symbolically, it has no peer for the display of
beauty, talent, and artistic creativity. Its subtext inevitably has implications about current American race relations, which influence their future.
The racial implications of the Oscars replays in millions of minds at countless other public celebrations and entertainment venues, as well as in
private interactions (for a year at least). Such spectacles are forms of public discourse and what they represent or fail to represent about US
racial demographics and the attitude of the dominant white group creates or augments a specific racial climate that in 2015 is part of a more
general racial atmosphere of ambiguity and indeterminacy. At the 2015 Academy Awards, for many critical observers, the issue or subject
pertaining to race (insofar as it is understood that subjects of race are subjects of racism), was recognition.22 The beauty, talent, and artistic
creativity of people of color was not fully recognized. Some people of color did get awards and some audience members were people of color,
so recognition, along with diversity, was not completely absent. But there appeared to be insufficient racial diversity for audience and award
winners to be considered racially integrated. And that appearance was symbolic. However, the symbolic meaning is ambiguous: Were there
people of color who were deserving of awards but did not get them because they were people of color? Is race a factor in who I becomes a
member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences? In the future, will the racial makeup of award winners become more or less
representative of their proportions in the motion picture industry? If the proportion of people of color in the motion picture industry is not
proportional to their presence in the population at large, why is that? The answers to these questions are undetermined in the symbolic
spectacle of the 2015 Academy Awards. The observer does not know if recognition of the achievements of people of color in the movie industry
will improve, stay the same, or get worse, and she does not know how to find out. The racial (i.e., in regards to racism) climate of the Academy
Awards is cloudy, subject to many different interpretations, some of them conflicting. It is an epistemologically unstable racial climate, because
people of color do not know what the weather is in that climate, as a basis for prediction, and neither do they know how to find out. The
shared judgment throughout the American atmosphere of race in the early twenty-first century is that
racism is morally bad. This judgment is a general principle that leaves the nature of racism undefined
throughout the atmosphere and most of the climates and subclimates of race. The overriding shared judgment is a bitter and
ineffective refuge for nonwhites, because it does not protect them from either First Amendment-protected racist expressions or actions
that turn out to be indirectly racist. Energetic self-aware racist whites can try to evade the judgment that they are racist through coded
language for racial difference, and the use of intermediate activities and traits as subjects of direct action. That is, something other than race,
which nonetheless does a good job of picking out members of a specific racial group, can be used instead of the race of that group to maintain
prejudice and legitimize discrimination. The term“racial climate” has a history of meaning “micro-aggressions”
based on race, small cuts, insults, and slights that can have a cumulative effect of individual harm.24 In using the term “racial
atmosphere,” reference may be made to other issues of harm to people of color, such as ignorance of
black history and contemporary racism or discrimination in career advancement.25 The implication of these meanings is
that the micro-aggressions add up to what is perceived as a general predisposition of white people to
treat people of color in unjust ways. But, at this time, ideas of racial atmosphere and climate also work
as metaphors for what is unknown about race relations and attitudes; they capture the vagueness and unpredictability of racial prejudice
and discrimination that occur in a society where nonwhites remain disadvantaged, even though there is formal equality. This “vague weather”
aspect of atmosphere and climate is an epistemological condition of indecision that may or may not constitute a lasting crisis, although some
syndromes of political injustice should be viewed as crises. A crisis is a period of indecision and uncertainty that requires a resolution before life
can go on. Will blacks and other people of color achieve more equality with whites, or is the United States—and with it the world, because US
racism is exported with business practices, tour-ism, and entertainment products—on the brink of a new era of explicitlу direct oppression of
people of color? Are most white Americans, whose race-neutral economic and social activities have racist effects on nonwhites, genuinely
ignorant of how the system in which they operate works, or are they secretly but knowingly hearts-and-minds not clear that this indeterminate
aspect of present racial atmosphere and climates must be resolved now. We do not know if life can go on if it is not resolved or what it means
for life to go on, or not. We do not even know if the putative crisis can be resolved at this time, because there is as yet no systematic and
sustained, impassioned, liberatory dis- course for our condition of ambiguity, a time with a black president and police killing with impunity of
unarmed black youth, a time of voting rights for everyone but new restrictions and requirements that disproportionately affect African
Americans.26 Except for what academics write and say and how important they think their discourse is
(among themselves), American discourse of racial liberation is at a standstill . And insofar as academic
discourse is uttered and received in a closed system , with a semicaptive audience and no reliable
means for it to affect the real world , that standstill remains at the disposal of history, where history is
understood to be the unpredictable result of contingent events . However, if academic oppositional political discourse can be
related to a longer historical trend, a more coherent and optimistic picture might emerge. Cornel West's ideas about the American black
prophetic tradition appears to be a relation to such a trend.

Symbolically affirming their method despite its lack of ties to the material strengthens
power.
Rigakos and Law, 9—Assistant Professor of Law at Carleton University AND PhD, Legal Studies,
Carleton University (George and Alexandra “Risk, Realism and the Politics of Resistance,” Critical
Sociology 35(1) 79-103, dml)

McCann and March (1996: 244) next set out the ‘justification for treating everyday practices as significant’ suggested by
the above literature. First, the works studied are concerned with proving people are not ‘ duped ’ by their
surroundings. At the level of consciousness, subjects ‘are ironic , critical , realistic , even
sophisticated ’ (1996: 225). But McCann and March remind us that earlier radical or Left theorists have made similar
arguments without resorting to stories of everyday resistance  in order to do so. Second, everyday
resistance on a discursive level is said to reaffirm the subject’s dignity . But this too causes a problem for
the authors because they:

query why subversive ‘ assertions of self ’ should bring dignity and psychological empowerment when
they produce no greater material benefits or  changes in relational power  … By standards of ‘realism’, … subjects
given to avoidance and ‘lumping it’ may be the most sophisticated of all. (1996: 227)

Thus, their criticism boils down to two main points. First, everyday resistance  fails to tell us any more about so-
called  false consciousness  than was already known  among earlier Left theorists; and second, that a focus on discursive
resistance  ignores  the role of  material conditions  in helping to shape identity.

Indeed, absent a broader political struggle  or chance at effective resistance it would seem to the authors that
‘ powerlessness is learned out of the accumulated experiences of futility and entrapment ’ (1996: 228). A
lamentable prospect, but nonetheless a source of closure for the governmentality theorist. In his own meta-analysis of studies on resistance,
Rubin (1996: 242) finds that ‘discursive practices that neither alter material conditions
nor  directly challenge broad structures  are nevertheless’ considered by the authors he examined ‘the stuff out
of which power is made  and remade ’. If this sounds familiar, it is because the authors studied by McCann, March and Rubin
found their claims about everyday resistance on the same understanding of power and government employed by postmodern theorists of
risk. Arguing against celebrating forms of resistance that fail to alter broader power relations or
material conditions is, in part,  recognizing the continued ‘ real ’ existence of identifiable , powerful
groups  (classes). In downplaying the worth of everyday forms of resistance (arguing that these acts are not as worthy of
the label as those acts which bring about lasting social change ), Rubin appears to be taking issue with a locally
focused vision of power and identity that denies the possibility of opposing domination at the level of
‘ constructs ’ such as class.

Rubin (1996: 242) makes another argument about celebratory accounts of everyday resistance that bears consideration:

[T]hese authors generally  do not differentiate between practices that reproduce power and those that alter
power. [The former] might involve pressing that power to become more adept at domination or to
dominate differently , or it might mean precluding alternative acts that would more successfully
challenge power . … [I]t is necessary to do more  than show that such discursive acts speak to , or
engage with , power. It must also be demonstrated that such acts add up to or engender broader
changes .

In other words, some of the acts of everyday resistance may  in the real world , through their absorption
into mechanisms of power ,  reinforce the localized domination  that they supposedly oppose . The
implications of this argument can be further clarified when we study the way ‘resistance’ is dealt with in a risk society.

Risk theorists already understand that every administrative system has holes which can be exploited by those who learn about them. That is
what makes governmentality work : the supposed governor is in turn governed – in part through the noncompliance of
subjects (Foucault, 1991a; Rose and Miller, 1992). For example, where employees demonstrate unwillingness to embrace technological
changes in the workplace, management consultants can create:

a point of entry, but also a ‘problem’ that their ‘packages’ are designed to resolve. … In short, consultants readily constitute certain forms of
conduct as ‘resistance to technology’ as this gives them some purchase on its reform by identifying a space in which expertise can be brought to
bear in the exercise of power. Resistance consequently plays the role of continuously provoking extensions ,
revisions and refinements of those same practices which it confronts. (Knights and Vurdubakis, 1994: 80)
This appears to be a very different kind of resistance from that contemplated by Rubin, but perhaps not so different from that of the authors
whom he and McCann and March critique: those whose analysis ends at the discursive production of
noncompliance . Instead, the above account is of a resistance that almost invariably helps power to work
better . A conclusion in the present day that ominously foreshadows the futuristic, dystopic risk assemblage described by Bogard (1996).
Another example of the ‘resolution’ of resistance proposed above is the institution of a tool library described by Shearing (2001: 204–5). In this
parable, a business deals with the issue of tool theft on the part of workers by installing a ‘lending library’ of tools instead of engaging in
vigorous prosecution and jeopardizing worker morale. While the parable is meant to indicate a difference between actuarial and more
traditional (moral) forms of justice, it also demonstrates how an act that may be considered ‘ resistant ’ is incorporated
without conflict into the workplace loss-prevention scheme – an eminently preferable , ‘ forward-looking ’ solution
within the logic of risk management. The same is possible in the case of more discursive forms of resistance. If I do not see myself
as a Guinness man, for example, market researchers will do their best to adapt Guinness to the way I do see myself (Miller and Rose, 1997). The
end result, of course, is that I purchase the beer. As manifested in a form of justice (Shearing and Johnston, 2005), it always consolidates,
tempers emotions, cools the analysis, reconciles factions, and always relentlessly moves forward, assimilating as it grows. In this sense,
therefore, Bogard’s ‘social science fiction’ actually pre-supposes and logically extends Shearing’s (2001) rather cheery and benevolent rendering
of risk thinking. In this context of governmentality theory – as self-described and lauded for its political non-
prescription by its own pundits – the acts or attitudes described as resistant are, in the end , absorbed by
those who govern . Resistance as an oppositional force – that pushes against or has the potential to
take power – is theoretically and politically neutralized . In the neutralization process, power is
reproduced .

So, along with McCann and March’s observations that everyday resistance adds little to our understanding of false consciousness and
that it denies the role of material factors in shaping identity, we can add Rubin’s two main criticisms of everyday resistance: it relies on an
inaccurate understanding of power, and acts of resistance which supposedly emancipate actually may
reinforce domination . All four of these criticisms demand the same thing : to know what is really going on ,
to get an adequate grasp of the social.

Saying phonogrophies disrupt politics without also introducing concrete methods is

bad. The sequence of direct organization first, informed by phonographies, is much
better.
Bronstein 11 – Zelda Bronstein, BA in Philosophy of Politics and Culture from UC Berkeley, MA in
Political Science from SUNY Albany, Doctorate in the History of Consciousness Program with a
Specialization in American Studies at UC Santa Cruz, Former Professor at UC Santa Barbara and Merritt
College, “Politics’ Fatal Therapeutic Turn”, Dissent, Summer, OmniFile Full Text Select

Ganz is no stranger to issues of control and dissent. His book about the farm workers movement, Why
David Sometimes Wins, details Cesar Chavez’s descent into autocracy and the resulting decline of the
United Farm Workers. But at the trainings he advises—and I speak as a veteran of Camp Obama as well
as Camp MoveOn—the focus is on motivating involvement through the emotional pull of storytelling,
not inculcating the conceptual and practical tools of democratic mobilization . Ganz’s emphasis on
narrative is an understandable response to the wonkery that has too often deadened left calls to action,
and compelling moral rhetoric is an essential political tool. But if storytelling is to advance an
accountable and effective radical politics , it needs to be premised on explicitly political grounds: the
ends and means of power wielded on behalf of the common good. Instead , Ganz’s method gives
priority to personal affect and motivation. The upshot is a method of organizing that not only leaves
individuals helpless before peremptory authority but also neglects, when it doesn’t actually
undermine, the creation of a solid agenda that lays out issues and commensurate policies, and the
design and implementation of a strategy that can realize that agenda.

The last point was hammered home by Sean Wilentz in a November 2010 New Republic essay that
attacked Ganz for disdaining “grubby politics” and issues in favor of inspirational feeling and “values.”
Wilentz’s criticism was borne out by the curriculum at Camp MoveOn. Ostensibly, participants were
being educated in recruitment. But it was hard to grasp how Ganzian stories would work as a recruiting
tool, unless they were folded into an explicitly political context—in this case, MoveOn’s current
campaign— from the start. Instead, the campers, almost all strangers to each other, were first invited
to expound on their successful encounters with personal challenges of whatever sort. Unsurprisingly, my
group found it easiest to come up with stories of self ; stories of us proved more elusive; stories of now
were pretty much beyond us—a performance that boded poorly for the future of our local council .

But the real cause for distress isn’t Marshall Ganz. It’s the adoption of his ideas by the leaders of
MoveOn and the Sierra Club, both high-profile organizations that enjoy substantial progressive support.
Their embrace of a personalized politics indicates the dismaying extent to which therapeutic values have
permeated and distorted our political culture. Treating people with respect is an indispensable
component of democratic politics; basing political engagement on personal affirmation is a recipe for
impotence [failure] . And political vigor isn’t the only casualty of the therapeutic mode: the irony of
both organizing by storytelling and online citizen participation is that for all their preoccupation with
personal well-being, such tactics actually weaken individual character.

Instead of disseminating an anemic form of activism , the Left should be fostering the strenuous
citizenship essential to democracy. We can do that only if we recognize what such citizenship entails: the
morale to identify with a common cause; the will to act; the wit to temper passion with astuteness; the
courage to call power to account; and, in Max Weber’s poignant phrase, “the steadfastness of heart
which can brave even the crumbling of all hopes.”

Prioritizing sound without explaining how it counters material structures alibi

structural foundations of oppression---focus on material transformation is the only
way to eliminate violence
Papantonopoulou 14 – Saffo Papantonopoulou, PhD Student in Anthropology & Middle East Studies
at the University of Arizona, MA in Anthropology from The New School for Social Research, BA in History
with Honors from Brown University, “"Even a Freak Like You Would Be Safe in Tel Aviv": Transgender
Subjects, Wounded Attachments, and the Zionist Economy of Gratitude”, Women's Studies Quarterly,
Volume 42, Issues 1/2, Spring, ProQuest
Wendy Brown's words ring just as true today as they did twenty years ago when they were written.
While Brown did not explore what, exactly, mobilizes wounded attachments, what we have seen since
1993 is an increase in the deployment of wounded attachments by neoliberalism and neocolonialism.
The Zionist economy of gratitude, as part of a multibillion-dollar propaganda industry, is an economy in
a very literal sense. Pinkwashing deploys preexisting tropes of Jewish victimization inherent to Zionism,
in an attempt to hail the transgender subject into a debt of gratitude toward neoliberalism. This
narrative deploys vulnerability as economic capital , and its historical rise coincides with a tactical and
discursive shift by radical and progressive politics within the West. This shift has been a move toward
hyperindividualized projects of semiotic and representational interventions into existing systems. This is
encapsulated in the assump- tion that through better (media) representation, and precisely defined
terminologies, transgender people and other oppressed people may find liberation.

The renaturalization of capitalism within late twentieth-century identity politics is both a product of
and produced by the reframing of both temporality and the individual's relation to the collective within
purportedly liberatory political projects. No longer part of a mass movement that aims toward liberation
of the collective in historical time, we are instead relegated to a totality of atomized individuals, each
struggling to survive . The struggles for survival are very much real, but the ways in which they have
been politicized-even more, the ways in which survival within the existing system has become the
political project -reflect an internalization of Margaret Thatcher's infamous quip "There is no
alternative." We are often grappling with subjectivities that have been produced by disciplinary
regimes in order not to survive. Liberation will mean the ceasing-to-be of many of these disciplined
subjectivities. And there are few things more terrifying than calling for the death of one's own subject
position.

But this may be the point where it makes sense to part from Brown, as Brown parts from Nietzsche.
After all, Brown does not account for movements-such as, say, the Black Panther Party, to name one
example-that politicized identity as part of a liberatory project, avoiding both liberal co-optation and
crude Marxist reductionism. Rather than focus further on Brown's notion of wounds and traumas, it may
be useful to reevaluate Fanons notion of catharsis in the twenty-first century. What might we imagine a
transgender catharsis could look like? To Fanon, catharsis happens as part of decolonial struggle, which
is, in his words, "an agenda for total disorder. But it cannot be accomplished by the wave of a magic
wand ... or a gentleman's agreement." Fanon specifies that decolonial struggle "is an historical process"
(1963,2). Liberation, catharsis, and healing from trauma will not happen on the level of a matrix of
individuals , or a more precise regime of signification, and no theoretical intervention (even on the part
of this text) will bring it into being. Again, we cannot signify our way toward liberation as something that
happens in historical time; we cannot make a priori promises of safety or security. There is unfortunately
no predicting what, exactly, a historical unraveling of a violent system may bring about. But we can, at
the very least, prepare ourselves, by critically examining what sort of political tropes we reproduce in
attempting to name our pain. Demanding liberation in historical time, through a collective struggle that
places more weight on the material than on the semiotic or symbolic , while simultaneously allowing
geocultural cross-pollination of ideas and signifiers without a historically deterministic search for
"origins" (Foucault 1977), may allow us to break out of cycles of debt and gratitude. But this change will
not happen through theoretical intervention alone; it must happen through a structural and material
transformation of the world we live in.

Prioritizing performance of sound as isolated from critique bolsters a qualitative

approach that dominant groups use to oppress
Tonn 5 – Mari Boor Tonn, Professor of Communication at the University of Maryland, “Taking
Conversation, Dialogue, and Therapy Public”, Rhetoric & Public Affairs, Vol. 8, Issue 3, Fall

This widespread recognition that access to public deliberative processes and the ballot is a baseline of
any genuine democracy points to the most curious irony of the conversation movement: portions of its
constituency. Numbering among the most fervid dialogic loyalists have been some feminists and
multiculturalists who represent groups historically denied both the right to speak in public and the
ballot . Oddly, some feminists who championed the slogan “The Personal Is Political” to emphasize ways
relational power can oppress tend to ignore similar dangers lurking in the appropriation of conversation
and dialogue in public deliberation. Yet the conversational model’s emphasis on empowerment through
intimacy can duplicate the power networks that traditionally excluded females and nonwhites and gave
rise to numerous, sometimes necessarily uncivil, demands for democratic inclusion. Formalized
participation structures in deliberative processes obviously cannot ensure the elimination of relational
power blocs, but, as Freeman pointed out, the absence of formal rules leaves relational power
unchecked and potentially capricious. Moreover, the privileging of the self, personal experiences, and
individual perspectives of reality intrinsic in the conversational paradigm mirrors justifications once used
by dominant groups who used their own lives , beliefs, and interests as templates for hegemonic social
premises to oppress women, the lower class, and people of color. Paradigms infused with the
therapeutic language of emotional healing and coping likewise flirt with the type of psychological
diagnoses once ascribed to disaffected women. But as Betty Friedan’s landmark 1963 The Feminist
Mystique argued, the cure for female alienation was neither tranquilizers nor attitude adjustments
fostered through psychotherapy but, rather, unrestricted opportunities.102 The price exacted by
promoting approaches to complex public issues— models that cast conventional deliberative processes,
including the marshaling of evidence beyond individual subjectivity, as “elitist” or “monologic”—can be
steep. Consider comments of an aide to President George W. Bush made before reports concluding Iraq
harbored no weapons of mass destruction, the primary justification for a U.S.-led war costing thousands
of lives. Investigative reporters and other persons sleuthing for hard facts, he claimed, operate “in what
we call the reality-based community.” Such people “believe that solutions emerge from [the] judicious
study of discernible reality.” Then baldly flexing the muscle afforded by increasingly popular social-
constructionist and poststructuralist models for conflict resolution, he added: “That’s not the way the
world really works anymore . . . We’re an empire now, and when we act, we create our own reality. And
while you’re studying that reality— judiciously, as you will—we’ll act again, creating other new
realities.”103 The recent fascination with public conversation and dialogue most likely is a product of
frustration with the tone of much public, political discourse. Such concerns are neither new nor
completely without merit. Yet, as Burke insightfully pointed out nearly six decades ago, “A perennial
embarrassment in liberal apologetics has arisen from its ‘surgical’ proclivity: its attempt to outlaw a
malfunction by outlawing the function.” The attempt to eliminate flaws in a process by eliminating the
entire process, he writes, “is like trying to eliminate heart disease by eliminating hearts. ”104 Because
public argument and deliberative processes are the “heart” of true democracy, supplanting those
models with social and therapeutic conversation and dialogue jeopardizes the very pulse and lifeblood
of democracy itself.

Institutional focus is key---focus on spectacular revolution or individual imagination

trades off with analysis of how institutions shape racialized violence
Kirstine Taylor 18, assistant professor in Political Science and the Center for Law, Justice & Culture @
Ohio University, law and society scholar who specializes in the politics of race in American democratic
thought and institutions, and African American political thought, “American political development and
black lives matter in the age of incarceration”, Taylor and Francis, Published online Jan 19 2018,
https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/abs/10.1080/21565503.2017.1419434 //hh

APD = American political development

What is the use and purpose of American political development (APD) in the era of Black Lives Matter? At
first glance it might appear that the discipline, preoccupied as it is with apprehending the historical

development of U.S. political institutions and the durability of shifts in the governing power of the American state, is
perhaps less than agile at analyzing such a new, evolving, and diffuse social movement (Orren and
Skowronek 2004). Indeed, as Christopher Lebron notes, unlike the Black Power Movement whose political vision is contained in Kwame Ture
and Charles Hamilton’s indispensable 1967 text, Black Power, the Movement for Black Lives has no singular text to provide it with philosophical
anchorage (Lebron 2017). And in place of centralized leadership that has been a hallmark of black civil rights organizations since the birth of the
National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), the Movement instead mobilizes in real time based on a simple, urgent
claim: that black lives are human lives and should not be subjected to cursory, vengeful or routine termination. These characteristics present
challenges to scholars seeking to assess the Movement’s precise impact on state development and state power. At the same time, however,
the precarity of African American lives in the U.S. is not a new phenomenon, nor is mobilization for the
protection of those lives. When Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi created the Movement for Black Lives, they
responded not only to a singular event of violence perpetrated and justice denied – the 2013 acquittal of neighborhood watchman
George Zimmerman for the death of Trayvon Martin – but to deeply rooted and deeply historical patterns of

racialized state violence in the U.S. As Neil Roberts puts it, Martin’s death “marks a moment in American political life where past and
future are mutually determining” (2012). In this sense, Garza, Cullors, Tometi and the countless advocates of #BlackLivesMatter tread in the
tradition of Ida B. Wells, W. E. B. Du Bois, Audre Lorde, James Baldwin, and others who have mobilized against the vilification of blackness and
for the protection of black people since the end of Reconstruction (Francis 2014; Taylor 2016; Lebron 2017). Since Martin’s death, the work of
the Movement has only spread as the list of names of black and brown men, women, and children subjected to police violence grows longer. A
year after Zimmerman’s acquittal protests erupted in Ferguson, Missouri in response to officer Darren Wilson’s fatal shooting of Michael Brown.
This event crystalized state violence in black communities as a national problem and crystalized #BlackLivesMatter as, in the words of Keeanga-
Yamahtta Taylor, “a movement, not a moment” (Taylor 2016). In 2016, the Movement articulated a radical platform of liberation centered on
the “increasingly visible violence against Black people.”1 The platform
includes the familiar problem of violent policing,
but also targets what Juliet Hooker terms “the key pillars of contemporary white supremacy”: mass
incarceration, heightened state surveillance of black-centered organizations, the militarization of law
enforcement, capital punishment, and economic injustice (Hooker 2017). While #BlackLivesMatter is best known for its
attention to policing, the Movement is dedicated to fighting a complex set of interlocking institutions that
render black life in the U.S. precarious . In this light, given the longstanding and ongoing nature of the problems to which the
Movement responds, the question of APD’s utility in the age of Black Lives Matter actually betrays a prior question that scholars of APD may yet
grapple with: What
is the use of APD in an age in which African Americans and other people of color are
disproportionately subjected to the racialized state powers of surveillance, policing, and incarceration? In this article, I seek
to clarify APD’s role in analyzing the institutions to which the Movement for Black Lives primarily responds – surveillance, policing, and
incarceration. In particular, I speak to what the discipline can offer given the challenges of the current Trump
era . The rise of Donald Trump to the presidency and the concurrent popularization of white populist nationalism in mainstream American
politics presents unique challenges. From his 1989 insistence that the Central Park Five be executed to his suggestion that the white
supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia in August 2017 was attended by “very fine people,” President Trump
has owed his
political rise in part to a form of open racial demagoguery not seen in a presidential election since Barry Goldwater’s 1964
bid. What was once aberrational in the post-civil rights era is now nearly common. Today, as scholars strive to understand how we arrived, or
arrived again, in an era of overt white supremacist rhetoric, APD’s focus on historical institutional change offers
necessary grounding . In the case of Black Lives Matter, the discipline fills out the picture of how the U.S. carceral
state , encompassing surveillance, law enforcement, and incarceration, became a primary governing institution in the
U.S . – and what relation this bears to spectacular displays of white nationalism that are increasingly
common today.

Rethinking racism in the age of incarceration

At the height of the 2016 presidential election, Donald Trump’s then chief strategic advisor Steven Bannon commented on Black Lives Matter
protests in the wake of police violence. “In
the meantime, here’s a thought,” wrote Bannon, “What if the people
getting shot by the cops did things to deserve it? There are, after all, in this world, some people who are
naturally aggressive and violent” (2016). Here as elsewhere, Bannon sounds for all the world like midcentury southern
segregationists who denounced the Civil Rights Movement and the implementation of Brown v. Board of Education by offering up well-worn
images of black criminality. Popularized in the early twentieth century, the idea of innate black criminality has buttressed a
host of urban, state, and national policies regarding African Americans (Muhammad 2010). But in the 1950s and
1960s, the idea hit new heights of popularity as the nation adjusted to the Supreme Court’s 1954 decision that separate did not mean equal. In
September 1956, for instance, two years after Washington, D.C. desegregated its public schools, the monthly publication of the Mississippi
White Citizens’ Council ran a political cartoon depicting violence in the capitol city’s integrated schools. In it, a schoolhouse, labeled “the
nation’s integrated showcase,” explodes from the inside out, its roof flying off and its doors bursting open to expel white students who run with
arms outstretched to the safety of nearby Virginia (The Citizens Council 1956). At the time, Virginia was the home of the massive resistance
movement, so called because it sought to resist any desegregation effort in keeping with the Supreme Court’s decision. The message of the
cartoon is clear: white students can only be kept safe by keeping their schools free from black students. On this logic, integration and black civil
rights are law-and-order issues. The Citizens’ Council was not alone in this rhetoric. Other southern publications likewise bolstered the
supposed link between blackness and violence. Massive resistance literature out of Alabama darkly reported in 1961 that “Negro juvenile
delinquency” in Philadelphia escalated due to black and white students attending integrated schools (George 1961). The author, the
segregationist crusader W. George, linked this outcome to the “hereditary” propensity of black youth towards crime. Segregationist politicians
eagerly dispensed the same rhetoric. In the months before the 1960 Civil Rights Act moved through Congress, for instance, South Carolina
Senator Strom Thurmond submitted a report into the Congressional Record that argued there was an “incontrovertible link” between
integration and crime, and accused New York senator Jacob Javits and other civil rights supporters of attempting to “‘export’ New York City’s
combination of integration, crime, and racial strife to the South” (quoted in Crespino 2012). But by the time Barry Goldwater secured the
Republican nomination for the presidency in 1964, theories of innate black criminality were largely considered out of step with American
values, and Goldwater’s bigoted campaign lost definitively to Lyndon B. Johnson’s coalition of liberals and moderates. In place of overtly racist
rhetoric that sutured criminality biologically to race, colorblindness came to define the racial rhetoric of the post-civil rights era. If the idea
that African Americans are “naturally” predisposed to “aggression and violence,” in Bannon’s
terminology, reeks of old-fashioned biological racism , scholarship in race and APD demonstrates that the
expansion of state institutions that disproportionately target , police, and incarcerate African
Americans and other people of color elides easy categorization . In fact, the decades of overt white supremacy’s
relative absence in national political campaigns are the very decades of the U.S. carceral system’s most rapid expansion. Between Goldwater’s
campaign and Donald Trump’s, the U.S. carceral population grew from two hundred thousand to over two million people. Currently, an
astonishing 6.7 million adults are incarcerated in prisons or jails or are on probation or parole, and several hundred thousand more are
detained in immigration detention centers and juvenile correctional facilities (Kaeble and Glaze 2016). That
the U.S. carceral system
has a distinctly racial character is undeniable, so much so that Michelle Alexander has termed it “the
New Jim Crow” (2010). At yearend 2015, African Americans and Latinos together made up 57% of the U.S. prison population and fully half
of the U.S. jail population, far outpacing their share of the general population (Carson and Anderson 2016; Minton and Zeng 2016). What role
did arguments of the Citizens Council and Strom Thurmond play in the creation of the carceral state? Some APD scholarship argues
that midcentury southern segregationists played an outsized role . According to these scholars, the rise of law-andorder
politics and the subsequent ballooning of the U.S. carceral system is the result of southern racial conservatives working to maintain the violent
prerogatives of Jim Crow, white working class discomfiture with the scope of liberal civil rights policy, or the result of Nixonian southern
strategists capitalizing on rising white anxieties of “street crime” after the riots of the 1960s (Carter 1995; Beckett 1999; Flamm 2005; Weaver
2007; Alexander 2010). But while it is possible to draw a line from midcentury southern segregationists’ rhetoric of black “criminality” to the
tough-on-crime politics that popularized the War on Drugs, mandatory minimums, “three strikes” laws, and crime control legislation, recent
scholarship also cautions that overt racism played only a partial role in the creation of the carceral
state. Naomi Murakawa and historian Elizabeth Hinton, for instance, each document the role that liberal policymakers have
played in the creation of our now expansive prison system (Murakawa 2014; Hinton 2016). Ruth Wilson Gilmore, Daniel
HoSang, and Jordan Camp have separately illustrated the popularization of crime policy in the supposedly liberal bastion of California (Gilmore
2007; HoSang 2010; Camp 2016). Marie Gottschalk highlights, among other things, the surprising role victim’s rights groups played in passing
tough-on-crime legislation and the severely limited dent prison reform movements have made in recent efforts to reduce the prison population
(2006, 2014). Judah Schept documents the steadfast commitment to prison building in the progressive university town of Bloomington, Indiana
(2015). And Michael Javen Fornter and James Forman, Jr. both identify black elected officials as central figures in the twentieth century’s drive
to incarcerate black people (Fortner 2015; Forman 2017). In my own research, which focuses on the development of state-level carceral policy
in the post-World War II American South, I am finding that even in the nation’s most racially conservative region the origins of crime
policy are multiple, encompassing Old South segregationist and New South moderate legislative
agendas . For instance, North Carolina, long considered the South’s most progressive state, was a pioneer of carceral expansion at
midcentury. Between 1951 and 1969, North Carolina substantially revised and expanded its criminal code, increased and professionalized its
investigative and law enforcement agencies, increased its capacity to incarcerate juvenile offenders, and doubled its prison population, which
would balloon alongside the nations in subsequent decades. African Americans felt these developments most acutely. By 2012, 56% of North
Carolina’s 38,385 inmates were African Americans, far outpacing their representation in their overall population in the state (Lancaster and
Sullivan 2012). These expansions took place as North Carolina politicians attempted to rein in both white supremacist violence and black civil
rights activism, what politicians referred to as “extremism on both sides.” On the one hand, the new crime legislation and increased law
enforcement powers targeted the activities of the United Klans of America, a white terrorist organization who boasted a particularly large
membership in North Carolina in the 1960s. Consider, for instance, Governor Terry Sanford’s language in a speech denouncing the growth of
the Klan in the summer of 1964: Because there is a growing concern across the state, I think it is necessary to remind the people involved that
the Ku Klux Klan is not going to take over North Carolina. Taking the law into their hands, running people away, burning crosses, making threats,
wearing hoods, are all illegal practices and are not going to be permitted ... Let the KKK get this clear. I am not going to tolerate their illegal
actions, and the people of North Carolina are not going to put up with it. I repeat, the KKK is not going to take over North Carolina. (Sanford
1964a) In an effort to curtail well-worn tactics of white extralegal violence gaining speed and force in the state, the North Carolina General
Assembly passed explicitly anti-Klan legislation. In the late 1950s and early 1960s, the General Assembly created special punishments for arson
of public buildings, made it unlawful to use a false bomb or call in false bomb threats, outlawed the use of threats over the phone, created
mandatory minimum punishments for the possession of explosives, and made it unlawful to burn schoolhouses. Even as they outlawed the high
crimes of dedicated white supremacists, North Carolina politicians also passed new legislation designed to criminalize the everyday, nonviolent
political behavior of black civil rights activists. When the Greensboro Four first sat down at Woolworth’s lunch counter on February 1, 1960,
launching the sit-in movement that would soon spread like wildfire across the South, the governor responded not with the terminology of
innate black criminality, but of public safety. He explained to a gathering of black civil rights leaders in 1963: These mass demonstrations also
had reached the point where I, as head of the executive branch of government, responsible for law enforcement, peace and order, was
required to establish a firm policy for North Carolina. My responsibility for public safety required that I take action before danger erupted into
violence. I do not intend to let mass demonstrations destroy us. I hope you will not declare war on those who urge courses of reason at this
time. (Sanford 1964b) New legislation designed to criminalize civil rights protest heightened the state’s power to police, apprehend, and jail
black citizens. By the close of the 1960s, North Carolina had passed new criminal trespass laws, made “demonstrations or assemblies of persons
kneeling or lying down in public buildings” a misdemeanor crime, and outlawed several tactics and activities relating to the Civil Rights
Movement. The targeted policing of African Americans, the purview of law enforcement since the invention of slave patrols, now took on a
colorblind cast. Increasingly in the midcentury South, the racialized policing of civil rights activists, and black use of public space more generally,
operated absent the old segregationist logic that African Americans are naturally violent. Instead, a surprisingly raceneutral language of “public
peace” and “law and order” came to define the growing carceral regime of the New South. In sum, the literature demonstrates that the
institutional roots of U.S. carceral expansion are multiple and complex, and cannot be reduced to the
presence of overt white supremacist logics . To be sure, conservative politicians have been the traditional proponents of
tough-on-crime laws. Richard Nixon pioneered “law and order” as a winning political rhetoric in his Southern Strategy in 1968. Ronald Reagan
famously insisted that he had an “eighteenth-century attitude on law and order.” And in 2016, Donald Trump accepted the nomination to the
U.S. presidency with a direct message: “I am the law-and-order candidate.” But despite
the ostensible link between law-and-
order Republican leaders, racial conservatism, and crime policy, the institutional history of the carceral
system’s development in the last half of the twentieth century is far more complicated . Indeed, the two
farthest-reaching crime bills in American history were the Safe Streets and Crime Control Act of 1968 and the 1994 Violent Crime and Law
Enforcement Act, both signed into law under Democratic administrations. In the South, law enforcement expanded and new crime legislation
passed, both falling heaviest on African Americans, at the very historical moment that Klan activity was outlawed and white supremacy derided
as outdated and hateful.

Conclusions

The scholarship revealing the complex racial roots of U.S. carceral state does not stand alone in its
attention to race and political development . Scholars of race and APD have for decades labored to
reveal the racial underpinnings of the American state . This scholarship spans virtually every aspect of
the nation’s political development, and includes uneven processes of regional democratization (Lowndes
2009; Johnson 2010; Mickey 2015), segregation and city development (Sugrue 2005; Lassiter 2006; HoSang 2010; Johnson 2014;
Schickler 2016), labor (Frymer 2011), law and civil rights (Brandwein 1999; Novkov 2008; Dawson 2013; Francis 2014; Thurston 2015),
the formation of police (Sullivan 2008; Singh 2014), the presidency (Milkis 2008), and the way we count citizens (Thompson
2016). Despite the fact that, as Julie Novkov, Joseph Lowndes, and Dorrian T. Warren have noted, “race is present at every critical moment in
political development in the United States,” it is only in the last few decades the precise relationship between race and the nation’s political
development has been a subject of serious scholarship (Lowndes, Novkov, Warren 2008). In transgressing disciplinary norms and ideological
blind spots that typically understand race, racism, and anti-racist movements as side stories rather than main features of political development,
the literature on race and APD has revealed that race is a central feature in the creation, management,
and governance of American political institutions. The form of state power that the Movement for Black
Lives identifies as “ the war on black people ” – the cocktail of racialized surveillance, policing, and incarceration that plagues
black communities and other communities of color – can and has operated in the absence of racial demagoguery . To
be sure, this does not lessen or alleviate the necessity of eradicating white nationalism, and particularly white nationalist violence, from our
current politics, but it does suggest that vanquishing these does not “fix” the problem of racialized state violence. Indeed, if we are to learn any
lessons from the history of mass incarceration’s emergence and development from the APD literature, it should be that racialized state
power does not require the terminology of white supremacists . In an era of Charlottesville and chants of “Build the
wall!” our collective focus is easily drawn to the spectacular and away from the longstanding and

institutional, but black and brown lives also depend on our attention to the quieter routines of
institutionalized racial violence that have developed in post-civil rights era – even, and perhaps especially, in the
absence of overt demagoguery. This is the task of APD in the age of Black Lives Matter: to provide a longer,
larger, and more complicated story of the institutions and patterns of governance that render black
lives uniquely precarious in American life.
2NC---New Trier---Round 4
T
 Case
Prioritizing individual accounts of lived experience over aggregate research causes
disastrous outcomes
Baicker 16 – Katherine Baicker, C. Boyden Gray Professor of Health Economics in the Department of
Health Policy and Management at the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health, and Amy Finkelstein,
John & Jennie S. MacDonald Professor Economics at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and the
Co-Scientific Director of J-PAL North America, “What’s The Story With Obamacare?”, Health Affairs, 12-
9, http://healthaffairs.org/blog/2016/12/09/whats-the-story-with-obamacare/

States, patients, and voters are wrestling with the pros and cons of dramatic changes in public health
insurance coverage, including extending, maintaining, or rolling back Medicaid expansion under the Affordable Care Act (Obamacare) — an often
emotional topic of debate. The stories that are told about the effectiveness—or lack thereof —of coverage in

improving health and health care usually relate compelling personal experiences, putting a human face
on an otherwise abstract argument.

Policies are not enacted in the abstract ; they affect real people’s lives , and we should all be
concerned with how policy changes help or harm them. Unfortunately, as moving as those stories can
be, they can just as easily lead us in the wrong direction as the right one. What we need is evidence, not
anecdote .
Medicaid Coverage And Care Use

A key question in the Medicaid debate is whether expanded coverage reduces the use of the Emergency Department (ED) — getting people into the doctor’s office
earlier, improving health, and reducing health care spending. Solid evidence is very hard to come by, but we had an opportunity to evaluate the impact of expanding
Medicaid using scientifically rigorous methods rarely available in answering public policy questions.

In 2008, Oregon used a lottery to allocate a limited number of Medicaid slots — generating, in essence, a randomized controlled trial of Medicaid. This let us gauge
the effects of the program itself, isolated from the usual confounding factors, and allowed us to collect thousands of stories—otherwise known as data!—about
people’s experiences on and off of Medicaid.

We found that, contrary to many people’s expectations, Medicaid increased use of the ED by 40 percent. New research tells us that this increase persisted for at
least two years, and that Medicaid did not make patients more likely to substitute a visit to the doctor for one to the ED.

In addition to this evidence, gleaned from a randomized evaluation of the experiences of tens of thousands of uninsured
and newly insured Oregonians, we also conducted hundreds of interviews to learn how people felt that having Medicaid—or not—affected

their lives. These individual narratives were invaluable for deepening our understanding of the experiences

of those in study. But they also underscored how easy it is, in the absence of solid evidence, to find an
anecdote to match any “answer.”
One newly insured patient told us, for example “Without coverage I wouldn’t have gone to ER those nights I was in crisis because I was already in crisis, and the idea
of… the bills I would have had… just would have been too much for me to take on mentally or financially,” a story consistent with our overall finding. But an
uninsured patient told us, “When I was uninsured, unless something happened where I had to go to the hospital, then I’d just go the emergency room and deal with
it. Emergency rooms, from what I understand, they can never turn you away,” painting a vivid picture that, while true for this patient, does not happen to be
representative of most people’s experiences.

Conflicting Anecdotes About Medicaid

This is an all-too-common situation. The Oregon experiment has produced a wealth of data and rigorous evidence on the impact of Medicaid on people’s lives. We
found that Medicaid increases health care use, improves financial security, improves self-reported health, and reduces rates of depression. For nearly every
outcome of interest, we heard stories of experiences that matched the average effect of the expansion on the newly covered population, as well as compelling
stories that did not.

For example, we found that overall, Medicaid increased doctor’s office visits by about 50 percent — but not that every single person was able to see the doctor. One
newly insured patient told us, “[Medicaid has] no doctors that are actually taking new patients,” while another told us that Medicaid gave him new access to care,
when previously he “would not go to see the doctor because of the cost.” These stories are both true — but it’s impossible to tell which is more typical without
more systematic data. While it’s important to realize that some patients on Medicaid may still have had trouble finding a doctor, it’s crucial to know that, overall,
the program dramatically increased access to physicians.

without that systematic information , policymakers and the public might be justifiably unclear
Indeed,

about the effects of the program on access, with very different opinions based on their news sources . For
example, in 2013, CNN ran a story about how life-saving Medicaid could be. Bettina Cox was a woman in Texas whose health was declining dramatically and who
didn’t have insurance. She said that because she was uninsured, she had to let a tumor go unchecked for months and it grew to the size of a grapefruit. Once she
was finally diagnosed with cervical cancer, she qualified for Medicaid, which, she said, saved her life. She described how if she had had Medicaid before the
diagnosis, she would have seen a doctor much sooner.

But another woman, interviewed in 2011 by The New York Times, told a very different story about Medicaid. Nicole Dardeau, a middle-aged woman from Louisiana,
described how she couldn’t work because of three herniated discs in her neck. She had Medicaid but couldn’t get treatment for her neck because she couldn’t find a
surgeon who would accept Medicaid. She described Medicaid as a “useless piece of plastic.”

Anecdotes Cannot Substitute For Rigorous Research

It’s tempting to think that we can recognize which anecdotes are most representative of the “real story”
when we hear them — but we really can’t. We might be more likely to believe the story that is more
poignant. Or maybe the one that lines up with our prior beliefs . If you’d like to try your hand, we have
compiled pairs of individual narratives, each of which tells a very different story . These are all true stories from
Oregonians who participated in the Medicaid lottery, describing their experience of how Medicaid affected their health care, financial security, and health — but
only half are consistent with the prevailing experience of most people.

This is why, wherever possible, we need to rely on evidence from rigorous research —rather than
compelling anecdotes—to get an accurate assessment of a policy’s effects. In medical research, randomized controlled
trials have long been the standard, but such rigorous methods are too rarely used to answer major health policy questions. Of course, the Oregon study reflects the
experiences of Medicaid expansion in only one state and only one program, so additional rigorous studies are always of high value.

The Oregon example highlights that it is possible to use randomized evaluations to investigate important health policy questions. As researchers, we need to do a
better job of providing the public with that evidence. Policymakers need to be receptive both to partnerships in building the evidence and to using the evidence to
make better-informed policy decisions. And the media needs to resist the urge to allow unsubstantiated anecdotes to stand in for real evidence — despite the fact
that readers may be drawn in by anecdotes.

Personal narratives can yield vital insight into how policies affect people’s lives, humanizing the stories
behind the numbers and suggesting important areas for further research. Dismissing these compelling
stories as “mere anecdotes” in favor of more rigorous—but impersonal—data analysis can seem
heartless. But making policy based on unrepresentative anecdotes can inflict much greater harm on
many more people . We hope that use of rigorous evidence will become the norm rather than the
exception in health policy.

Structural change is possible but depends on commitment to collective political action

that is divested by their emphasis on individualized survival strategies
Smith 16 – Derik Smith, Assistant Professor of English at SUNY Albany, PhD from Northwestern
University, “Ceding the Future”, African American Review, Volume 49, Number 3, Fall, p. 183-191

Coates’s Dream is a terrible and practically invincible hegemon, so enduring and impervious that it brings about a
sense of hopelessness that borders on philosophical cynicism. His protagonist walks close enough to the valley of total disillusionment
that he must overtly protest that he is not a cynic (71). And finally, Between the World is not an exercise in cynicism. The narrator’s aphoristic
insights are earnestly delivered in the hope that they will equip the son for the “struggle” (71, 107, 151). But the
struggle that is recommended to the son and to readers is conceived in intensely private , almost solipsistic
terms: Greater personal understanding of the beautiful but doomed world seems the endpoint of this striving.
The narrator entreats his son to “[s]truggle for wisdom” (151), which is most attainable through the “singular gift of study” (116). It is no
overstatement to say that, for Coates’s narrator, a rigorous personal scholarship is the apogee of living . “If my life
ended today,” he writes, “I would tell you that it was a happy life—that I drew great joy from study, from the struggle toward which I now urge
you” (115). Of course, this elevation of inquiry and learning has rich precedent in the tradition of black masculine
autobiography that traces back to antebellum slave narratives. But while the giants of this tradition—Douglass,
Du Bois, and Malcolm among them—framed individual study as a means of advancing the collective toward a “Canaan
[that] was always dim and far away” (Du Bois 5), Coates’s narrator casts study as a form of personal therapy that
enables one to endure the moment. As he puts it, the “struggle to understand is our only advantage over this madness” (106).
This conception of study as life’s ultimate activity, and wisdom as its Canaan, is anomalous in the [End Page 190] tradition of
socially transformative black intellectualism that Coates inherits; but it is the logical expression of a world-view dominated by
the insuperable Dream.

If there is no hope of impeding the forces that plunder the black body, then there is no point in being
collectively organized against those forces. The intelligent and expedient response to this condition is to
develop a personal strategy for survival —like the cerebral exercises of the intellectual who struggles to study and understand a
world he can do little to change. Coates’s narrator also seems to endorse other strategies that black people have used to survive under the
Dream—most notably the vernacular arts of music and dance, but also the collective acts of “black people toasting their cognac and German
beers, passing their blunts” (149). These are the folk remedies and temporarily healing rituals of the therapeutic
nationalism that give comfort to Coates’s narrator. Indeed, the emotional high point of his narrative is reached when he describes
the state of ecstatic safety experienced while held in the loving bosom of blackness that he finds at a Howard Homecoming tailgate party.
Encircled by a reveling microcosm of “the entire diaspora,” he experiences a spiritual transcendence and a return to the womb, feeling himself
disappear into the surrounding bodies of “hustlers, lawyers, Kappas, busters, doctors, barbers, Deltas, drunkards, geeks, and nerds” (147). In
this climax of therapeutic nationalism the narrator himself dissolves, as do the apparently superficial
differences that fracture black community in the neoliberal era . The divergent class interests that might set the
lawyer in political conflict with the hustler, or the sociospatial mobility that might distance the doctor from the barber, are irrelevant in
this transcendent rapture, described by the narrator as “a moment imbued by a power more gorgeous than
any voting rights bill.”

Any black person who has been in “the club” at two a.m. knows the power of this bass-drum-induced moment of bacchanalian unity. But it is,
at the very least, surprising to see this ephemeral feeling ranked above the hard-won political
achievements of black people in America, achievements that have advanced global (not simply
American) democratic culture. On the one hand, this concomitant deflation of black political struggle and
inflation of recreational black unity communicates a plausible exhaustion of civic faith as the Obama
presidency enters its denouement paced by a refrain of horrors like the murder of Tamir Rice and the mass killing at Charleston’s Mother
Emanuel AME Church. On the other, it
represents a nostalgic longing for black communal solidarity that has
steadily eroded in the decades since the passage of the Voting Rights Act and the era that brought an
end to de jure segregation. But what is finally encoded in this medley of faithlessness and nationalist
longing is a message that is quite compatible with the socio-ethical array of neoliberalism , which
fosters an “ambient insecurity” that leads to individualistic strategies of survival , and that welcomes
evanescent, apolitical solidarities divested of visions of social transformation . Because Between the World is
layered in evocations of King, Malcolm, Baldwin, Wright, Nas, Sonia Sanchez, Amiri Baraka, and Robert Hayden, it takes on the aura of a black
artistic and intellectual tradition kindled by radical imagination. But in
its abdication of all forms of faith, and its armoring
rejection of hope, this newly acclaimed text deserts the tradition it recalls . In explaining the necessity of poetry for women,
Audre Lorde offers the best description of the conception of art as public discourse that is abandoned in Coates’s text. She insists that
poetry “forms the quality of the light within which we predicate our hopes and dreams toward survival and change,
first made into language, then into idea, then into more tangible action. Poetry is the way we help give name to the
nameless so it can be thought. The farthest horizons of our hopes and fears are cobbled by our poems, carved from the rock experiences of our
daily lives” (37). It is crucial to mark Between the World as a rejection of a tradition built on the belief that black art
and public intellectualism ought to illuminate a path toward futures improbable, but always and only
possible when imagination gives birth to “tangible action.” [End Page 191]
1NR---New Trier---Round 4
Ballot PIK
 K
2. FLUIDITY DA---the perm is fluid---it hinders solidarity.
Jodi Dean 14, professor in the Political Science department at Hobart and William Smith Colleges in
New York state, 11/11/14, “Communicative Capitalism and Class Struggle”,
https://spheres-journal.org/contribution/communicative-capitalism-and-class-struggle/

With respect to workplace struggles, we would expect more struggles among those in communicative labor –
teachers, transport and the service sector. We would expect struggles to extend beyond the workplace, perhaps
involving hacking as a kind of contemporary sabotage as well as various kinds of misuse of
communicative devices. But more fundamentally given the changes in communication and subjectivity,
we would expect the expropriated to face real difficulties in organization, in constructing clear
narratives, and symbols. We would expect images to take primacy over arguments , positions and would
expect suspicion of those deemed to threaten demands. We would expect intense attachment to
individuality , difference and uniqueness – attachments that would hinder solidarity. We that
uniqueness. Micro-politics , issue-politics , anarchism , one-off demos , clictivism , and ironic events
would, in this setting, seem more compelling (they would definitely be easier) than the sustained work
of party-building. And we would

expect an increased focus on inequality.

The concept of communicative capitalism thus makes the protests and revolts of the last few years legible as the class struggle of the
proletarianized. It
accounts for the insistence of personal media, the people protesting, the economic
position of the protesters and the political ambiguity of the protests. New proles often have a strong
libertarian bent . They tend to present themselves as post-political or anti-political (as in, for example, the
Spanish movement of the squares). They are so fluid and spongy (‘whatever beings’ with imaginary identities as I explain in Blog
Theory) thatthey can be channeled in different directions . They have a hard time uniting as a class even
as their actions are the expressions of a class.

3. BALANCE OF POWER DA---the K is an impact turn to the method of the AFF---the

distinction between the two forms of politics means the method of the AFF and the K
are mutually exclusive.
Melissa Naschek 18, Co-Chair of the Philadelphia Democratic Socialists of America, 8/28/18, “The
Identity Mistake,” https://www.jacobinmag.com/2018/08/mistaken-identity-asaid-haider-review-
identity-politics

We Can’t “Do Both”

Today, with the popularity of Bernie Sanders and a resurgence in trade union activity, circumstances are finally re-emerging for
a political program capable of fostering mass working-class solidarity . Instead, Haider would have us turn to the
model that has failed the working class for years: rhetorically accepting identity-based particularism at the implicit
expense of class-based universalism .
Of course, Haider does not overtly suggest that this is an either/or. Instead, he insists that we must do both — working-class
politics and identity politics .

But “doing both” is easier said than done . Identity politics and class politics understand capitalist
power structures in distinct ways and therefore lead to distinct political strategies . More
importantly, however, “doing both” misreads the balance of power in America today: institutionally on the
Left, we have nothing but a fraction of the already miniscule labor movement to back our platform and our
analysis.

But liberalism has a major political party, the media, academia, and the entire world of nonprofits , which today
controls about as much wealth as the Church did before the French Revolution. And it’s in the “do both” strategy that these

powerful enemies of the Left (and allies of capital ) worm their way into our coalition and play up
identity to reshape working-class demands until they’re neutralized .
Haider fails to recognize the profound asymmetry between the power of institutions of the working-class and the advocates of universal class-
based reforms, and those of the liberal establishment and their own embrace of identity-based particularism. Concretely,
this
asymmetry does not lead to the best of identity politics and the best of universal demands in some sort
of synthesis. Instead, the lopsided advocacy for particularist demands serves only to further marginalize
the universalist demands .

An anticapitalist
politics capable of fighting against such forces must appeal to the whole working class to build a
mass movement. Masses of people become interested in politics when organizations offer a real possibility to
change their lives for the better. The only way to forge a movement capable of achieving that is by fighting
for shared working-class political and economic interests . This remains the only plausible path to harnessing the only
power offered to workers in society: their position as an exploited majority.

The good news is that the needs for affordable medical care, a livable planet, quality education, and
respect and security in the workplace satisfy such a mandate . It is two of Mistaken Identity’s supposed interlocutors,
Barbara J. Fields and Karen Fields, who note that downplaying class demands “is a devastating, intolerable mistake .

It leads people to say that race is fundamental — not economics, not class — and if you bring class in then
you’re trying to deny the reality of human existence and identity. That is the big mystification achieved
by racecraft.”

The aff’s retreat to the Undercommons reifies the capitalist relations of the academy.
Mike Neary 15, Professor of Sociology in the School of Political and Social Sciences at the University of
Lincoln, “Educative Power: The Myth of Dronic Violence in a Period of Civil War,” Culture Machine,
Volume 16, 2015, http://eprints.lincoln.ac.uk/19412/1/591.pdf

Harney and Moten (2013: 30) discover the subversive intellectual in the identity of radical students and
faculty:
Maroon communities of composition teachers, mentorless graduate students, adjunct Marxist historians, or queer management professors,
state college ethnic studies departments, closed down film programmes, visa-expired Yemeni student newspaper editors, historically black
college sociologists and feminist engineers. And what will the university say of them? It will say they are unprofessional. How do those who
exceed the profession, who exceed and by exceeding escape, how do those maroons problematize themselves, problematize the university,
force the university to consider them a problem, a danger? The Undercommons … are always at war, always in hiding.
Faced with this predicament the only rationale for radical faculty is to steal from the university (26) and to
teach, or, rather, not teach:

the not visible other side of teaching, a thinking through the skin of teaching toward a collective orientation to the knowledge object as future
project, and a commitment to what we want to call the prophetic organisation. (27)

This means not finishing, not passing, not graduating, but being driven by:

a radical passion and passivity that one becomes unfit for subjection... It is not so much the teaching as it is about the prophecy in the
organisation of teaching... against its own deadening labour and the professionalization of the critical academic. (28)

This form of teaching, they argue, is not only unethical, but becomes a security breach (36).

A key feature of the Undercommons view of the University is an assertion about the non-exceptional
nature of academic work, which can only be done in collaboration with other academics, other university workers, workers outside of
the university and with students. This highly collaborative model of academic work includes students as co-
workers and collaborators: ‘student as producer’ (Harney & Moten, 1998: 172), in fact, of knowledge as part of the teaching process.
Harney and Moten argue that any strategy where academics work alongside students for radical social change based on a critique of capitalist
society must recognize students as coworkers as well as the material conditions of capitalist production.

Recognising the violence inherent in state strategy they proclaim that the Undercommons is a declaration of war against war, or the state’s
refusal of a new society. The
Undercommons is a ‘non-place’ (Harney & Moten, 2013: 39), or a ‘prophetic organisation’
(27) that works towards the abolition of a society that relies on wages, prisons and slavery, and ‘the founding of a new society
[which] would have the resemblance of communism’ (42). This is a powerful analysis, written with a highly literary sensibility, sharing the SSC’s
commitment to the notion of the student as co-worker in the production of communism.

However, there are significant differences between the Undercommons and the SSC. The
Undercommons is an analysis of the
capitalist labour process which leaves out the dynamics of valorisation . Value is discussed by Harney
and Moten, but only as a marketized medium of exchange, with no understanding being shown of the
violent law of abstraction by which value expands and social life is brutalized . While Harney and Moten do
use the term ‘abstracting academic labour’, they do so as a way of looking more closely at work inside
the academy, and without consideration being given to it as the process of the abstraction of surplus
value . The critique of value on which the SSC relies recognizes the social world as the totality of capitalist social relations, out of which social
forms are derived, whereas the Undercommons see society as already made : as a place in which wages and
slavery and prison exist (Harney & Moten, 2013: 42). The critique of value on which the SSC is based recognizes class
struggle and ultimately communism as emerging from the dynamic contradiction of the commodity-
form: it is thus not fixated on the identity politics of excluded faculty , whose oppositional nature or otherwise is
determined by the substance of their radical Otherness, which for Harney and Moten has its defining moment in the concept of Black Studies.
While the Undercommons regard stealing as a radical political act, the SSC does not advocate theft, which does
nothing to challenge property relations ; instead, the SSC endeavours to appropriate the power of capitalist knowledge
production in a non-alienated form. The Undercommons’ subversive model is also based on a positive affirmation
of worker solidarity, rather than a détournment of the nature of work itself . In the end, then, the
Undercommons is passionate, rather than a negative critique, and is altogether too certain , lacking any sense of critical
reflexivity or radical doubt or educative power , laying itself open to its own critical analysis of the critical academic. Stripped of
any scopic vision by which it can reveal the foundation of capitalist violence, the Undercommons provides no assurance on which to launch a
violent attack on police state power and its militarized drones.
2. Alt solves---it creates a democratic national planning strategy that resolves prevents
exclusions but class should come first
Harrington 18 (; Edward was an American democratic socialist, writer, author of The Other America,
political activist, political theorist, professor of political science, radio commentator and founding
member of the Democratic Socialists of America., 2-28-2018, "What Socialists Would Do in America—If
They Could", https://www.dissentmagazine.org/article/what-socialists-would-do-in-america-if-they-
could)//ae

II. Speculations and Possibilities First, socialism proposes a national planning process in which all the people
would have an effective right to participate . Through a political process, the society would consider its
basic options. Put in American terms, the Administration would outline the needs of the next period
and the resources available to meet them . Since the latter would not be infinite, there would have to
be proposed “ trade-offs .” A crash program for the improvement of health might limit the growth of education; the decision to
take the benefits of increased productivity in the form of more leisure time would mean that the same
productivity could not be spent on more consumer goods. This last point is particularly important because one would
hope that, as socialist consciousness would rise, so would the tendency toward the decommercialization of life—toward communal, non-
commodity forms of consumption, like neighborhood centers or public theaters. Under
such conditions there obviously would
be debates over priorities . These would be resolved by a democratic process in which parties would
compete with one another over conflicting programs. That, however, would not mean a mere extension
of present-day “pluralist” theory, which ignores the way formal democratic rights, precious as they are,
can be subverted by economic and social inequalities . In the period of transition, there would not simply be a corporate
sector striving to impose its values upon the polity; the government itself would obviously be (and already is) a center of power. For democracy
to work in such a context, it would have to be much more profound and real than it is today. Let us imagine two quite unutopian aspects of
such a deepening of democracy. First,
if the Administration or even the Administration and the major opposition
have an effective monopoly on the machinery and personnel of the planning process, then the formal
right to challenge the plan becomes almost empty of content . In French “ indicative planning ,” for
instance, the workers are legally guaranteed representation at every level of the system. But they, unlike
business and government, do not have the expert staff, the computers, the “knowledge technology” so important in a modern society.
Therefore, they normally don’t bother to participate in the exercise. If, then, planning is to be a critical instrument of the assertion of popular
control over the investment process, there must be effective provision for democratic participation. Any
significant group of people
—much larger than a coffee klatsch, much smaller than a majority—should be given the means to
challenge the official plan(s ). This could be done in at least two ways. Such a group could be given the
funds to hire its own experts and computers; or it could be given the right to have the official
bureaucracy work out the details of its counterplan(s). Within such a framework, when the
Administration and the Congress would go to the various regions and ask for popular inputs, there
would not be the pro forma hearings that so often prevail today . The critics would be technically as
well prepared as the establishment . Second, the political process itself should be democratized. Here,
some of the West European countries now are far ahead of the United States . All television time
available to candidates for federal office should be allocated according to a democratic formula . And
each significant group should either get subsidies for its own press, or else—as is sometimes the case in
this country with intraunion oppositions in campaign periods—have legally guaranteed access to the
print media . Let us assume, then, that truly democratic procedures could be established within the
planning process, given a little imagination and a mass socialist political movement . What of the content of
the plan(s)? How would it (or they) be rationally debated and worked out? How would it (or they) be implemented democratically without an
enormous proliferation of bureaucracy? It would be of utmost importance that everyone in the planning debates know the real costs of all the
proposals. It was thus not an accident that, on the few occasions when he explicitly referred to the socialist future, Marx spoke of the need for
careful bookkeeping. Like Max Weber, he regarded bookkeeping as one of the great accomplishments of the capitalist era, and then added that
it would be even more necessary under socialism precisely because production would be planned. And it is, of course, one of the central
themes in a contemporary indictment of late capitalism that this system falsifies prices by imposing its social costs on helpless people and/or
the government. This point raises a technical question that should at least be noted before moving on to a basic issue. In the absence of
capitalist-factor markets, can society rationally compute efficient prices? In a famous attack on socialism Ludwig von Mises argued that it would
not be possible to do so. He was effectively answered by Oskar Lange, A. P. Lerner, and Joseph Schumpeter (the latter summarizes the debate in
Capitalism, Socialism, and Democracy). To be sure, I do not accept many of the overly centralist assumptions of their imagined solutions, yet
their central point about rational prices under socialism is persuasive. Schumpeter, brilliant Austrian conservative, held that socialist prices
would be set by marginal costs; the late Anthony Crosland, a British Fabian, noted that only under socialism would such capitalist theories work;
and some of the economists grouped around Francois Mitterand, like Philipe Brachet, have gone into detail as to how this might be done in
present-day France. So
I will assume that serious debate can take place on the basis of accurate information
about “trade-offs.” But does this mean, then, that socialism will operate according to the criterion of
profit? And if so, what of the claim that it entails production for use instead of profit? Profit, I would
argue on the basis of historical evidence , is the specific form that the su rplus from production takes in,
and only in, capitalism . Such a surplus exists in all but the most primitive of subsistence societies; it will certainly have to exist under
socialism. Under capitalism, the surplus is appropriated by the owners and managers of the means of production, and it is both a title to wealth
and to the right to make basic investment decisions about the future of the economy. In pre-capitalist systems, the surplus was appropriated by
political and ideological, not economic, means, i.e., on the basis of “God’s will” as backed by the human sword. Under
socialism, there
will be a social dividend to provide for those who do not (usually because they cannot) work for
depreciation and for expansion (on the last count, it should be remembered that I am speaking of the
socialist transition when there will be many urgent needs for new investment , both at home and
abroad ). But that social dividend will not be a “profit.” It will be appropriated by the society and
allocated after democratic decision-making ; it will not go to individuals in the form of wealth or elite power, as is now the
case. Second, although a socialist society will have to create a surplus and will want to measure the return on investments as precisely as
possible, the resulting “interest rate” will be an accounting device and not a flow of income to private owners. Third, socialist
accounting
will compute social cost and social benefit in a way that capitalism, for systemic reasons, does not and
cannot do. For instance, mainstream economists today defend the ruin of the Northeastern and
Middle Western cities as an inevitable—tolerable if unfortunate—consequence of making a more
“efficient” use of resources. But efficiency, it must be understood, is not a mathematical absolute
obeyed by technocrats ; it is always defined in relation to the interests of different groups and
individuals . Under capitalism this is done behind a veil of mystifying rationalization and in the interests of a
minority. Under socialism, the term will be democratically defined in public debate in relation to the needs of the majority.
 Case
3) SURVIVAL STRATS DA---the starting-point assumption of “fugitivity” presumes a
connection between a ballot and endorsing a survival strategy. That cements
psychological violence and hampers anti-racist strategies
Pinn 4 – Anthony B. Pinn, Professor of Religious Studies at Macalester College, currently researching
religion in the African Diaspora and social protest thought, He has authored The Varieties of African
American Religious Experience , The Black Church in the Post-Civil Rights Era Why Lord?: Suffering and
Evil in Black Theology, and has edited By These Hands: A Documentary History of African American
Humanism He is currently researching religion in the African Diaspora and social protest thought in the
AME church “‘‘Black Is ,Black Ain’t ’’: Victor Anderson, African American Theological Thought, and
Identity”, He identifies as an African-American. Dialog – Volume 43, Issue 1, pages 54–62, March 2004 –
via Wiley Database
Negroes of Africa have by nature no feeling that rises above the trifling....So fun- damental is the difference between these two races of man,
and it appears to be as great in regard to mental capacities as in color. 7 This formulation was actualized outside of Europe because it served as
the bases for relations in what becomes the United States. Through the rhetoric of figures such as Thomas Jefferson, for example, aes- thetic
and intellectual distinctions between Africans and Europeans are accepted and used to rationalize slavery as the basis for economic growth and
social codes of conduct (1787, Notes on the State of Virginia ). African American philosophy has spent much energy engaged in racial
apologetics because of the successful transposition of the ‘‘European genius’’ to the ‘‘New World.’’ In response to this European ‘‘spirit of the
counter-discourse that Anderson labels onto- logical blackness . Generally, Black apologists
age,’’ Black criticism devel- oped a
refute(d) claims of white supremacy by presenting Black cultural genius—the uniqueness of African
American contributions to culture— as grounds for Black participation in social progress and democratic humanism,
and the race’s eventual uplift. Although one might initially recognize the appealing quality of this argument
with respect to Black survival, it is fundamentally flawed because it is predicated upon acceptance of the
whiteness—white superiority— Black apologists reject. It is in this segment of Anderson’s text that one first encounters his critique of
ontological blackness. Albeit passionate and reasoned, Anderson argues that versions of this argument from the likes of David Walker, Maria
Stewart, and Reverdy Ransom inadvertent ly re-enforced racial ideologies, thereby damaging life options
available to African Ameri- cans. That is to say, only activities mirroring and advancing this particular sense of Black genius are
acceptable; other activities exist outside of ‘‘Black life.’’ In a very real way African American collective identity so defined creates internal
conflict because individual desires and styles are always subject to the Black ‘‘party-line.’’ The ‘‘ conscious lives of blacks are
experienced as bound by unresolved binary dialectics of slavery and freedom, negro and citizen, insider and outsider, black and
white, struggle and survival .’ Viewing these issues from the context of overtly religious thought, it is reasonable to say that
Black religious studies participates in this ideological game by demonstrating the uniqueness of Black
religion in opposition to White religious expression. Ontologi- cal blackness denotes a provincial or ‘clan-ness’ understanding of Black

collective life, one that is synonymous with Black genius and its orthodox activities and attitudes. Race is reified , that is, treated as an
‘‘objectively existing category independent of historically contingent factors and subjective inten- tions in the writings of historical and
contemporary African American cultural and religious thinkers....’’

Being “in but not of the university” is bad --- if they’re right it’s an anti-Black
institution, the aff intensifies psychic violence and anti-Black parasitism.
Gillespie & Murad 19 (John Gillespie, Occupy Towson leader & Co-Founder of the Organized Network of Student Resistance,
presently pursuing a phD in comparative literature at UCI. Conversation with Kevork Murad, phD Candidate. MT = Mumble Theory (Gillespie’s
handle). “The Culture of Theory: Conversations I”. 12-10-19. https://mumbletheory.com/2019/12/10/the-culture-of-theory-conversations-
i/ //shree. DOA: 5-2-20)
The following conversation started in response to a series of tweets on the University, the nature of the Inside/Outside relation, and ongoing conversations about
theoretical perplexities in Culture and Theory. The dialogue is between PhD Candidate, Kevork Murad and myself. To stage the conversation, I’ll share the text from
the tweets I wrote which started it all:

The University is intellectually responsible for the stable reproduction of every apparatus of domination that
exists today and tomorrow . The World is legitimated, reified, and perpetuated in and through the University. We are
trainers of cops, prisons guards, and con(gress)myn . Part of the trouble in critiquing other institutions from within
the University is that we can’t speak as if the University is a refuge or a place one can occupy while not
being simultaneously a part of the operations of University’s occupation of lands, bodies, resources, and violence. We have to sit more
uncomfortably with this paradox. Moten is wrong . This is not a refuge . This is a parasitic al space as well whose existence in and

of itself is based in an architecture of exclusion and the strategies and informatics of war . Moten is wrong. There is no way to
be in but not of this place . Just as there is no way to be in but not of the police force , the military ,
congress , etc and it is only the Academic which grants itself a grace which it will not extend to any other
occupation. We are here and we are not changing things from the inside. We are doing exactly what the University requires:
adding theory to its museum of ideas which then become testaments to its unending legitimacy , which are then
used as fodder to build the bombs and cops of the future. We are stuck in an almost inextractable mess.

KM:

There is a difference between being included in a concept and intentionally (or unintentionally) accepting that it includes us because the “us” is an abstract us. It is
an “us” which refers to our structural position or our position in relation to structure. That is the issue with what you’re saying, for me, that you’re confusing the
“we/us” in this moment with the structural “we.” So, in this moment, yes, we
are both inside and outside, or maybe, we are fully inside in some
cases, if that’s possible, but since the structural “we” is outside, this creates an ontological excess which draws

“us” in this moment out toward an alignment with the structural or outside “us.” That excess, the irregularity
between the structural “us” and the us in this moment / the impossibility of that alignment, is the place from which we feel uncomfortable with worldly/worlding
concepts. It informs our compulsion toward unlearning / unworlding. It informs our affective orientation
against. It is the very thing which produces our discomfort with the fact that in any given moment we are, as you’re saying, inside and outside the World (or any
of the amalgamation of concepts within it). That’s why I was saying that what you’re saying right now exceeds the grammar of your point. This is why unworlding is
a practice while the World exists, it can never be achieved because we are always in any given moment inside and outside but some of us are moving toward the
outside and some of us are moving toward the inside. In other words, engulfment means we are always being pulled into the world. Some of us are welcoming that
pulling because we belong in it. Some of us are oriented against that pulling because we are in excess to it. That doesn’t change the fact that we are being pulled
and there are real effects to this pull (namely that we are always inside and outside). Inside is the effects of that pulling in any given moment. Outside is the way we
don’t actually feel comfortable with those effects and pull back. One of the bottom traps is the universalizing of concepts themselves. This is why the conceptual
economy is so important. So, in other words, the assumption that a concept is equivalent to the word attributed to that concept. For example, something you often
point out is that some black theory, like Frank’s, insists that blackness is outside the concept of human, but if you ask most black people they will say they’re human.
This is only really a contradiction if you reduce the concept human to the word human, or if you universalize that concept. In reality, many black people have a
concept of human which is actually fundamentally different than the humanist concept of human, or Human. On the other hand, many black people have adopted
the Human too. The unworlding process can be unlearning the Human toward another idea of human, toward a new language of abstraction. This is why, for me,
Fanon’s / Said’s / Spillers’ concepts of human are really different than Sylvia Wynter’s. Hers is the only one of those that I really disagree with on principle because
she universalizes the concept / reduces the concept to the word.

MT:

I disagree that what I’m saying exceeds the grammar of my point since the grammar of my point is attached
to a grammar of White Being – English – which is the language of obliteration given to me by my murderer who
defines the world such that the name I have “Black” is even theirs, “Gillespie” is even a name attached to a slave master. We are
included into the concept of the University clearly. We are the embodiment of its concept of “Professor” or “Lecturer.” And these concepts are inherently wrapped
up in an institution which does not produce its conceptual subject in excess of itself since the semantics of Professor is indistinguishable from the University such
that one is not even a Professor unless one teaches in a University. When we are speaking about the University, we are not speaking about people being in excess to
the University, we are speaking about people who’s entire livelihood is in debt to the University. I think if we want to talk about the University and the Museum,
then wehave to be honest about our relationship to it without acting like because we do “good” work we aren’t
reifying an institution of death and it should not be mistaken that the University is anything but that: an institution of death. That is unless, we are
willing to admit that there can be functionaries of a fundamentally death-bound enterprises that are engaging implosively from within (which we assume ourselves
to be doing). Yet, if this is possible, we must be willing to extend this analytic beyond our own enterprise. Academics have a problem with self-reflection and self-
critique. It’s why they’ve gone so long analyzing labor trends and critiquing the lack of class consciousness in “the people” while at the same time considering their
own intellectual labor – “free time to think.” We have to be willing to admit that we are functionaries of a fundamentally death-bound enterprise that too makes us
complicit in its functioning if
we are going to move past fugitivity and notions of excess which make us feel valorized
in the presence of an institution whose architecture is instituted through death and who provides the
resource/fuel for the ongoing production of precise/accurate/data driven death-dealing. Which leads me to
planning. Since a plan needs an honest analysis of the conditions one finds ONESELF in, such that one must be able to account for the performances one is taken up
as well as the structure of enabling for that performance which is still very much the structure that one finds oneself against. “The value of performance resides in
what it is capable of doing with or to the positions that are presumed to be performed. Hence, when faced with the imperative to change the world – defined here
as the configuration of all positions – it seems central to focus on performance: since all positions are performed, the imperative to change these positions means
finding ways to perform them subversively or otherwise; since positions entail their performance, performance appears as that which, when changed, could change
these positions.”[1] I am fine with this possibility from within a positionality of death. But, if the performance can outdo or outweigh or hint-to an excess of the
positionality then we have to be willing to say the same can be done for cops of differing sets of positionalities or be willing to explain how we are any different from
the other cops in any way that doesn’t mean that we aren’t fundamentally doing the same things as cops (maintaining the symbolic and corporeal integrity of
institutions of death and deathing-dealing). I, for one, am willing to believe – perhaps – that there
may be room to theorize the blasphemous
traitor cop or the US soldier that goes AWAL against the institution itself. But, the history of giving that
breadth, space, possibility and theory is light and verges quickly on the lines drawn between cop
sympathy and cop appreciation. But, as Wilderson says, we love cops a lot more than we think we do .
Especially the ones that grade our papers.

MH:

Your argument is about academics and what academics are willing to admit and reconcile with. I have been trying to explain to you that my argument isn’t about
that, at least because I already take that as a given and I actually don’t even see myself as an academic given that I don’t seek a career in the academy. I see myself
as a person getting a PhD before I go do something else, anything, even teaching high school (which is my main career option right now lol). So whether or not I’m
willing to reconcile with something as an academic doesn’t really apply to what I’m saying, nor does whether academics in general will because that’s not my
concern. My concern is with structural positionality / inside and outside-ness / the concept of excess, for the sake of having a conversation with you. In other words,
I don’t actually care if the academy exists or not as much as I care about you and thinking through the possibilities outside it together. That is the work of planning
for me, which is why I keep insisting that what you’re saying is already a given for me. Now that I’ve drawn two circles with that being said I’m going to answer what
you said point by point because I honestly think it falls into what I was saying before. It’s not that your grammar exceeds grammar. It’s that what you’re saying
exceeds the grammar. English is the words you’re using, but my point is that the way you are oriented to those words, so that you would say English is “the
language of obliteration”– that’s an indication of excess. Excess is not something you can find in language. It refers to your affective orientation to the things given
to you, like language, which allows you to see them from a position of externality. It allows you to see them as not universal. You can only see them as not universal
because they don’t include you conceptually. They put you outside so that you can see them from outside. In other words, it is only through a sort of excess that you
can even really get that English is the language of obliteration. An example I think of is accents. Does your accent sound like an accent to you? Or, can you recognize
someone that has your accent in another language? I’m guessing the answer would be no, because you live within the world of/by your accent even within English.
But, your accent is immediately recognizable to other people because they exist outside the world of that accent. Now, we can take something like the world of an
accent and then expand it out to the “World produced by the tools of reason.”[2] What allows you to know how the World sounds like, as if you’re recognizing
someone else’s accent? You can only do this from a position external to it. That’s you in excess to the World. At least this is what I am learning from Kara Keeling[3].
Okay, so this applies to what you’re saying about English, or even the words which make up your name, because it is not in the words. It is in your orientation to
those words, that you can say “Gillespie is given to me” is perhaps the best example of how blackness is in excess to the world, actually. Who else has a relationship
to their own name that is external by the fact of their racial position? Now, let’s take this to the issue of inclusion in the University. This is what I meant about the
“we” as structural position and “we” in our life circumstance. We are the embodiment of its concept of professor or lecturer yes, those are our jobs. But, we as our
racial positions, we in abstraction (me and you), exceed those jobs. Just like you said in the office, no matter whether you’re a Professor or not the cop will still see
you as black and at that moment if you remember Mars said that’s Kevork’s point though. So black as your structural position supersedes your job as a Professor or
Lecturer. Now the university as a manifestation of/in the World, and specifically as the institution whose job it is to bring people into the World (to civilize them),
will work to make you believe that you are included in it. But it will always retain a blackness which is not included in it. It will only include you to the extent that you
can distance yourself from blackness. You know this hella well and that’s why you do so many things to try to fight against that. In other ways, though, you do
sometimes feel like a part of this place as you’ve told me, and as we all do, and that seems like why you feel in these moments like you need to practice unworlding
yourself from the university. And I’m sure in a month you’ll recognize other ways that your sense of belonging here has slipped in and you’ll try to address that. This
is the always inside/outside that I hear you talking about. But that inside/outside pull is only possible because we are *structurally* outside of the university. The
imperative is the constant practice of un/worlding specifically so that we can always keep engaging the World from a position outside of it (as much as possible,
never fully realizable since as you are saying we are in the university in point of fact). The stakes of this are that the more inside we are will always be at the expense
of our friends and family etc., who we necessarily have to distance ourselves from to be in. It’s with all this mind that we can see that the opposite is actually true of
resistance – that resistance comes from a practice of un/worlding (aligning ourselves with that in us which is outside, moving away, whatever way we want to say
it). By paying attention to this, we can begin to see the World for what it is and thus see what we need to do better, actually. For example, many Bernie liberals who
see him as revolutionary cannot see outside of the state, so what they think is revolutionary is revolutionary within the concepts they have universalized. It is a
practice of deuniversalizing all concepts, especially that of language (or words). That’s why that day with Jocelyn and you at my house I was insisting that we don’t
need to change the World because that implies that we are fully within it and changing it is the only option. Instead, we need to pay attention to and nurture that
part of us which is already outside of the World. In that space is an infinity of other Worlds. It is a space of freedom from the World and that is exactly why, as a
carceral space, the World is trying to eliminate it by making us think that we are fully in the World. It is trying to eliminate the excess. The point of Da Silva for
example is that it always needs that excess actually to recognize itself, so that task of elimination will always be a failure. We will always have that excess whether
it’s structured in or not, and it’s just a matter of moving toward it as a practice in Being. excess is as simple as – what makes some of us feel the violence of the
university while others find it to be a space of refuge? Well it presumes itself to be a space of refuge and does make itself a place of refuge for certain people –
intellectual cops. So those of us who find it to be a space of refuge are inside the conceptual boundaries of the university. Those of us who feel its violence have
something outside of it to be able to feel that. This is why, for me, Moten says that and why I was saying in Mar’s office that you are actually proving my point /
Moten’s. He is saying what you’re saying, that we can’t deny that although the university is a settler factory, we can’t deny that we (brown and black people) also
feel that it is a space of refuge. This is a fucking serious issue and one that we need to practice unlearning every moment while we are in it, because its job is to
make us feel that way and to forget that it isn’t. That’s why, the way I read him, The Undercommons is a practice of fighting that feeling by
building ourselves an alternative .[4] So, I circle back to my original statement I made to you, about why I am in this conversation with you. To
me these conversations between you and I are The Undercommons. They provide us a space to revel
and dance in our excess and to think against the university, which is something we can never do in the classroom .

MT:

“Oriented towards those words?” – What orients me towards these? And how is that orientation free of the ongoing
reproductions of violence? “Affective orientation to the things given to you” – Makes it sound like one does not exist their affectivity in immanent
relation to the structures of annihilation which produce them. Such that I am not saying things from an externality, but deeply within an internality that is

resulting in psychic damage and traumatic impairment – daily , gratuitously , without end. “They put you outside so that you can see them
from outside.” – No, they construct notions of outsiderness, relegate and restrict me to the outside while simultaneously producing violence to sustain the hyper-
reality of an inside/outside distinction and the conceptual virtues and values that get structured from within that demarcation where an entire political spectrum of
commonsense can be reflected through one’s “affective orientation” to being inside or outside a conceptual apparatus that is the structural imposition of a white
hyper-reality materially mapped as real. “It’s
only through excess that you can see that language is obliteration.” – No,
because the “within” is not simply enclosure but also emergence . Meaning, one does not have to be in excess of the thing one
was within in order to be able to operate differently within it. This is why I always talk about architecture. Because one does not happen to take up space within an
architecture the same way as everyone else in order to still know oneself as within the architecture, and one does not destroy the architecture without destroying
one’s claim to being a being of the architecture. “You
can do this only from a position external to it.” – This is a statement
that I take to be orthodoxy of “excess” scholars that I just believe is 100% false. You don’t need excess to
think otherwise. It’s a dogma. The domination can be both total and still productive of resistance in
thought, language and body. Otherwise, there will would be no reason to resist. We resist because we
cannot breathe. We cannot breathe because of the architecture of domination which disables breath. To say that me saying, “Gillespie is given to me,” is a
perfect way of saying I’m an excess to the World is to fundamentally misconstrue the nature upon which it was given to me such that one fundamentally misses the
immanent violence embedded in its givenness. It is not external at all. It is the name I walk around with every single day. It’s the name I carry with me on documents
and constitutions which are also internal impositions. That I’m Black always simply means that Blackness can be both a Professor and a Black which is not an excess
of anything and is completely consistent with the operations of power down from the Black Cop to the Black President. “Excess is as simple as – what makes some
of us feel the violence of the university while others find it to be a space of refuge?” – the fact that you think it’s as simple as “feeling the violence” while others
“find refuge” is exactly why I feel we disagree. Just because we feel differently about the space we are in does not mean we are not in that space. In fact, it means
that we are precisely in and of this space, with different affective relations to it, which … of course we do. There
are slaves who love their
Master. There are slaves who hate them. Both are still slaves. To me, these conversations are not the
under commons, they are the nonrefundable debt that the University will never pay back to you nor I.
These conversations are the exact kinds of conversations that extend the working day of thought – which is
our job – into every granite of our existence such that the University extends its logic into every minutiae of

our day. We are working right now Kevork. We are working, in the moment we decide to take what we are working out right
now and write about it anywhere in the world, UCI will be there to say, “Hey, we enabled you
remember? Your candidacy is ours. Your brilliance belongs to us. Your theoretical know-how starts
here.” We must bring invention into existence. Invention is in-vention. Existence is here. We are building a rocketship to the Earth – which means to go nowhere,
to stay with the trouble, to be in and of the trouble, to know we are slaves because to know we are slaves is to become clear about the need to be free of slavery,
which is not to exceed a thing, but to bring a thing to something new within itself, to bring a thing to the recognition of an infinite fractality that exist in the
immanent relation between things and their infinitely possible remaking and rewiring that starts in – not as subjective reworking, but as architectural
transformation. To be determined to not be determined such that determination itself is undone.