1NC---T

The role of the ballot is to determine the efficacy of a topical proposal relative
to the status quo or a competing option

“USFG should” means the debate is solely about a policy established by

governmental means
Ericson 3 – Jon M. Ericson, 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.

An alliance is a formal agreement between two states

David G. Haglund, n.d., “Alliance: International Relations,” Britannica,
https://www.britannica.com/topic/alliance-politics, Haglund is Director, Centre for International
Relations, Queen's University, Kingston, Ontario, Canada. ZKMSU

Alliance, in international relations, a formal agreement between two or more states for mutual
support in case of war. Contemporary alliances provide for combined action on the part of two or more
independent states and are generally defensive in nature, obligating allies to join forces if one or
more of them is attacked by another state or coalition. Although alliances may be informal, they are typically formalized
by a treaty of alliance, the most critical clauses of which are those that define the casus foederis, or the circumstances under
which the treaty obligates an ally to aid a fellow member.

“Limit the conditions under which” means to restricts a defense pact to specific
adversaries, locations, or preconditions.
Daina Chiba et al. 15 (Daina Chiba, University of Essex Jesse C. Johnson, University of
Kentucky Brett Ashley Leeds, Rice University), “Careful Commitments: Democratic States and
Alliance Design”, The Journal of Politics, Vol. 77, No. 4
https://www.jstor.org/stable/pdf/10.1086/682074.pdf?refreqid=excelsior
%3A4143156bd2c52cf3cac09e95835e5de7 ///BDN

dependent variable measures whether or not a defense pact specifies limits to the
Our second

conditions under which defensive obligations are invoked. This variable is defined only for the subset of
alliance agreements that have defensive obligations. Alliances might specify that the defensive
obligations are only invoked if a member is attacked by a specific adversary, or in a specific
location, or without provocation by the ally (see Leeds and Mattes 2007, 192). The variable takes on a value of 1 for any alliance including defensive obligations
that specifies any limits to the conditions under which defensive obligations are invoked, and a value of 0 for any alliance including defensive obligations that does not specify such limits. There are 260 alliance
treaties that have defensive obligations, and this variable is coded 1 for 116 cases (45%).

Japan is the island country off the east coast of Asia

Kitajima Masamoto, 8-20-2020, “Japan,” Britannica, Former Professor of Japanese History,
Tokyo Metropolitan University, https://www.britannica.com/place/Japan

Japan, island country lying off the east coast of Asia. It consists of a great string of islands in a
northeast-southwest arc that stretches for approximately 1,500 miles (2,400 km) through the western
North Pacific Ocean. Nearly the entire land area is taken up by the country’s four main islands; from north to south these are Hokkaido (Hokkaidō), Honshu
(Honshū), Shikoku, and Kyushu (Kyūshū). Honshu is the largest of the four, followed in size by Hokkaido, Kyushu, and Shikoku. In addition, there are numerous smaller islands,
the major groups of which are the Ryukyu (Nansei) Islands (including the island of Okinawa) to the south and west of Kyushu and the Izu, Bonin (Ogasawara), and Volcano
(Kazan) islands to the south and east of central Honshu. The national capital, Tokyo (Tōkyō), in east-central Honshu, is one of the world’s most populous cities.

Violation---the affirmative doesn’t defend a reduction in alliance

commitmments by reducing conditions for activation of the Japan mutual
defense treaty.

There are 2 impacts---

1---Clash---debates about scholarship in a vacuum are myopic and create
reactionary generics---they allow the aff to cement their infinite prep
advantage, because all the aff has to do is find evidence supporting an
ideological orientation towards the world---this crushes clash because all of our
prepared negative strategies are based on praxis, and by not defending a clear
actor and mechanism we lose 90% of negative ground, and the aff still retains
traditional competition standards like perms to make being neg impossible---
clash is an intrinsic good and it’s vital to the overall practice of debate

2---Procedural Fairness---If they make debate unpredictable for one side, they
also make it unfair---that must be a voting issue because integrity of the game
is a precondition for voting, and we’ve all implicitly agreed fairness is good by
abiding by other norms---not voting for fairness elevates judge biases which are
worse, but if you don’t think fairness is an impact, automatically vote neg even
if they’re winning the debate
 1NC---Cap K
The aff’s anti-power politics are ineffective and reinforces neoliberalism
Gray 18 (Paul Christopher – Brock University, Labour Studies, Faculty Member, From the
Streets to the State edited by Paul Christopher Gray Changing the World by Taking Power, ©
2018 State University of New York Press, Albany, Chapter 1 From the Streets to the State A
Critical Introduction, p. 1-10)

anti-power politics believes that fundamental transformations of capitalist society cannot occur
In general, this

through political parties, electoral politics, and winning government office. Instead, radical
change requires creating and expanding institutions that are autonomous from the states that they will eventually
replace. These parallel institutions are variously described as dual power, counter-power, diarchy, or autonomism. They can include popular assemblies, cooperatives, and
councils in workplaces, schools, barracks, neighborhoods, social centers, and free zones. This strategy has persuaded significant parts of the radical left, including within the New
Left and the new social movements since the late 1960s; the anti-globalization, alter-globalization, and global justice movements from the 1990s; the World Social Forums since
the early 2000s; and the Occupy and Squares movements from the late 2000s and early 2010s. Indeed, we can situate Holloway in these shifts. In the 1970s and 1980s, he was
one of the more articulate strategists of taking state power.1 In the 1990s, however, Holloway became inspired by the Zapatista Army of National Liberation, better known as
the Zapatistas, who demanded from the Mexican government autonomous control of the land and resources in Chiapas, the country’s southernmost state. Seizing territory and
establishing autonomous municipalities, the Zapatistas used the surrounding jungles and mountains, and, eventually, protracted negotiations with the central government, as

an anti-power strategy that rejects political parties and electoral politics, which they believe
cover for

perpetuate a state they regard as completely illegitimate. Holloway (2002) attempted to turn the Zapatista experience into a
global strategy with his book, Change the World without Taking Power. Many of the criticisms of twentieth-century state socialism are, of course, warranted.2 Nevertheless,

anti-power politics has existed long enough to show persisting problems that throw into
question its ability to change the world. First, we on the radical left have become increasingly
fragmented. Many radical leftists are quite wary of, or outright reject, the socialist political parties and programs that attempt to integrate diverse egalitarian struggles
into a unified political force. This is accused, often justly, of class reductionism, of reducing manifold oppressions to class exploitation. Other forms of oppression are as integral

oppressions
to capitalist society, including patriarchy, homophobia, transphobia, ableism, racialization, ethnic persecution, colonialism, and imperialism. Indeed, these

are mutually reinforcing or co-constituting, because each is transformed through its complex and shifting
relations in the broader social whole such that no form of oppression is likely to be overcome unless all of them are (Ferguson 2016; Bannerji
1995). Nevertheless, in the name of pluralism, the radical left has given way to a fractious politics

that precludes substantive compromise and integrated activities. The proposed alternatives to socialist parties are
coalitions or networks that are more than a movement but less than a party. But our coalitions tend to prioritize an internal focus motivated by suspicion of potential allies.

This sacrifices much of our externally focused action to a new sectarianism (Reed 2000). Influenced by intellectual movements
like postmodernism, post-Marxism, and identity politics, we recast our fragmentation by describing ourselves as the multitude (Hardt and Negri 2000). This turns our

thorough defeats into false victories. The anti-power milieu has, in its own ways, uncritically absorbed
the rampant individualism of the prevailing neoliberal capitalism just as surely as have many of the social democratic
and communist parties. Second, we lack cohesive and long-term strategies. Many radical leftists now reject the

idea of attempting to forge a collective will among different struggles by developing a single
encompassing strategy based in universal principles. This is criticized as a rigid party line, and, in many cases, rightly so. Instead, they
promote coalitions based in deliberately vague notions of anti-capitalism and the diversity of tactics in which each participating group is given enough autonomy to choose their
own political activities. This fruitfully challenges narrow conceptions of “the political,” especially given how often socialist parties become co-opted into the bureaucratic, legal,

and parliamentary channels of state institutions. Nevertheless, this means that our collective political positions and issues must satisfy
every participant as they are presently constituted, which leads to a politics of the lowest
common denominator. Furthermore, in the name of autonomy, our affinity groups neglect how each of our uncoordinated tactics inadvertently interfere
with and altogether prevent those of others. Thus, the diversity of tactics necessarily becomes a disparity of tactics. Indeed, the lack

of broader accountability “privileges risk-taking, regardless of whether the majority believes such risks are worthwhile, effective, or justified” (Ross 2003, 296). This

adventurism further divides us as certain activists aspire to a kind of Socialism in One Person. Our organizations and

strategies must be even more co-constituting than the many oppressions against which we struggle. Third, we suppress rather than solve the problem of

leadership. Many radical leftists justifiably condemn the ways in which socialist parties and organizations have reproduced social inequalities through their internal
relations and practices. In contrast to the often hierarchical and bureaucratic structures of socialist parties, much of

the radical left now advocates for a movement of movements (Mertes 2004). Indeed, it is crucial that we decentralize and
democratize our political organizations and spaces. But this usually becomes a horizontalism that rejects formal leadership.
Inevitably, informal leaders emerge. Since they are privileged enough to be initiated into the unspoken rules of the informal structures, they are largely unaccountable to the

this new form of vanguardism is covert, it would be all the more pernicious
communities who they claim to represent (Freeman n.d.). Because

. Fourth, we neglect the persisting importance of the state. Widespread

had it not proven so ineffective

rejections of the political party as a form of organization are often associated with the optimistic assertions that, in the age of globalization, nation-
states and national struggles are of diminishing importance. Those who espouse “Think globally, act locally” correctly expose the constraints on democratic spaces imposed by

ignore that nation-states are not

international institutions, trade agreements, currency zones, and new forms of imperialism. Nevertheless, they often

superseded by, but rather are the facilitators of, globalization (Panitch 1994, 63). The prevalent
depictions of contemporary capitalism as postindustrial or postmaterialist attempt to transcend in
thought the social relations we have been unable to transcend in practice. The recent waves of technological and
social innovations are staggering, but they remain developments within capitalism (Albo 2007, 12). An eroding collective memory and the

obsession with academic novelty tend to neglect the extent of historical continuity in our era.
Indeed, the only things new under the sun are the carbon emissions that disastrously trap its rays. Finally,

disengaging from the state cedes much political space and operational terrain to ruling classes .
It is true, Holloway’s anti-power politics has helped to cultivate a healthy wariness of co-optation by government institutions. Nevertheless, by rejecting all electoral politics as a

legitimation of the state,much of the radical left relies, often unconsciously, on an anarcho-reformism3 which can only make radical
demands from outside of the state. Consequently, we allow the atrophy of the collective capacities
necessary to transform the state and stifle the development of new such capacities . Furthermore,
there are uncomfortable parallels between anti-power politics and the dominant neoliberal
assertions that public institutions are inherently corrupt and inefficient . Ruling classes have
harnessed widespread discontent with government bureaucracy to promote the marketization ,
privatization, and deregulation of state institutions and practices . To the extent that the radical left

engages in the big refusal, we hasten these attacks on the welfare state, redistributive
measures, and social programs. Indeed, the neoliberal hollowing of the state is complemented by a
neo-anarchist Hollowaying of the state. By abstaining from this terrain of politics, we play the game of the neoliberals “as

conscientious objectors play the game of the conquerors.”4 Surely, we cannot glorify dirty hands, “right up to the elbows”
(Sartre 1989, 218). But if the anti-power milieu has clean hands, it is only because they hold them above

their heads in surrender as the tide of blood creeps up their legs. Anti-power politics has
proven to be as unable to challenge capitalism from outside of the state as is any purely party
politics from the inside. Transcending capitalist society and the state might very well depend on reconciling the best aspects of both of these equally one-
sided tendencies. Indeed, this split has divided the radical left throughout the history of its resistance to capitalism. We can describe these two long-standing tendencies as
parliamentarism and extra-parliamentarism. On the one hand, for the parliamentarist tendency, to the extent that the state is democratic, it embodies universal liberties, not
the power of the capitalist class and elite groups. This tendency argues that the radical left can use this state to fully realize these liberties in ways that preserve the continuity
between the partial democracy permitted under capitalism and the full democracy allowed by socialism. For the parliamentarist tendency, the most important factor is a
sufficiently strong and long-lasting governing majority that can fundamentally transform the hindrances to full democracy in civil society. Nevertheless, this tendency, historically
exemplified by the social democrats, has been completely absorbed by the state. It can reform capitalism, but not transform it. On the other hand, the extra-parliamentarist
tendency believes that even the most democratic of states is essentially controlled by the capitalist class and ruling groups. Therefore, instead of attempting to win the already
existing state power, this tendency builds alternative institutions in its shadows. Rather than being co-opted into the inferior forms of merely representative democracy, it
creates qualitatively different forms of participatory, deliberative, and direct democracy. Ultimately, this tendency envisions long preparations for what will be a sudden and
total break with capitalist institutions, either by violently smashing them or through a more nonviolent exodus from them. Those in the former subtendency, exemplified by the
communists, have typically remained dependent on and lacked real control over the state that they have “conquered.” Thus, they resort to recruiting the former state officials
and administrators of the ruling classes. This, among other causes, has meant that they tend to replace the capitalist state with a command economy that is just as
undemocratic, if not more so. Those in the latter subtendency, exemplified by the anarchists, altogether refuse to operate on the terrain of the state, which, when it can no
longer ignore them, easily crushes them. Despite all of their differences, these two subtendencies meet a similar fate. They can oppose capitalism, but not transcend it.5 In

they point to the

recent decades, the balance has shifted toward the extra-parliamentarism of those who espouse anti-power politics. As is often the case,

shortcomings of parliamentarism without being sufficiently critical of their own attempts to

change the world without taking power. But the pendulum might be swinging to the other tendency given the emergence of the new radical
left parties, the “parties of a new type,” in Latin America, Europe, Turkey, the Philippines, Tanzania, and elsewhere (for more on this, see chapters 3 to 6 in this volume). Even
Holloway’s major inspiration, the Zapatistas, have recently announced their intention to engage in electoral politics (Niembro 2017). Nevertheless, the new radical left parties
are beginning to fall into the problems typical of traditional social democratic parties, as is illustrated by the ways in which the Syriza government has become co-opted into the
Greek state and the institutions of the European Union (see chapters 2 and 3). These parties do not sufficiently heed the criticisms leveled by anti-power politics. Indeed, it has
been the case historically that both the parliamentarist and the extra-parliamentarist tendencies bend the stick so far in their own directions that they turn it into a dull
boomerang capable only of glancing the arguments of the other side before returning to their own. Surely, this is the most narcissistic of weapons. In what follows, I will first
discuss the shortcomings of purely extra-parliamentary politics. Then I will explore the flaws of the narrowly parliamentarist approach. Finally, I will introduce some of the

general issues of how to begin reconciling these two tendencies, a project that is tackled much more concretely in the essays that comprise this collection. II There are
 insurmountable, practical problems for any attempt to change the world without
several, likely

taking power. These problems will arise for extra-parliamentarists whether they envision
nonviolent mass withdrawals from the state or violently smashing the state . Those who espouse anti-power
politics often treat it as a general model that is applicable to every capitalist country. But when genuinely autonomous institutions have actually competed with their national
states for political legitimacy and sovereignty, it has been under the most exceptional and temporary circumstances. It occurs amid defeat in war, as was the case for the Paris
Commune, the Russian soviets, and the councils in post-World War I Germany and Austro-Hungary, or defeat in colonial war, as was the case for Portugal in the 1970s. It also
arises in response to direct attacks by fascist forces, as with Spain in the 1930s. In all of these cases, parliamentary institutions were nonexistent or much weaker and more
corrupt than is typical (Sirianni 1983, 91–98; Bensaid 2007). In every other case, autonomous institutions have been tolerated by the central state because they exist in single
neighborhoods or in rurally isolated areas that do not directly encroach upon its power, as is true with the significant achievements of the Zapatistas. To paraphrase Wainwright
(2006, 52), there is a lot of autonomy on the margins. Beyond these rare cases, autonomous institutions are confined to local levels and limited scales. The bulk of their activities
have been focused on supervising governmental agencies and providing basic necessities, such as food, fuel, and housing. Where they have grown beyond local levels and when

autonomous institutions do not

they are established in more urban, populous, and politically central locations, they are short-lived. Therefore, these

last long enough to show the majority of people that they are a legitimate alternative to the
sovereign nation-state. While the case of the Russian soviets before the Bolsheviks took power is an important inspiration for projects to develop parallel
institutions, it is even more exceptional. It was aided by the collapse of Russia’s outdated state, its relative isolation from the rest of Europe, and the length of time that its “dual
power” organs lasted, which was comparatively lengthy, but still less than a year (Sirianni 1983, 109–10, 117). Even if similar conditions emerge again, there are other profound

wherever they gain much

obstacles to anti-power politics. The most frequent criticism of attempts to build autonomous institutions is that,

significance, they will face constant state repression (Bensaid 2006, 10; Callinicos 2006, 63–64). This not only
includes outright coercion. It also has more subtle forms. Agencies comprised of volunteers who
deliver important services like health and education are harassed by the state over things like
licensing. Furthermore, the proposed alternatives to political parties, such as unions, workers’ councils, and neighborhood councils,
have often benefitted from the existence of sympathetic political parties (Sirianni 1983, 111–13). These can
create supportive legislation and hold back the coercive state apparatuses . Nevertheless, even if state
repression is somehow overcome, there are a number of other significant shortcomings. If
autonomous institutions grow beyond the local scale, they can not mobilize the resources necessary to meet society-

wide needs. Consequently, these institutions face permanent fiscal crisis. Governments will not grant
taxation powers to organizations that are not connected to existing state institutions . It would
be impossible to organize a disciplined withdrawal from tax collection, not only because this would be difficult to
coordinate but also because of widespread fears of interrupting the public services upon which workers,

the poor, and the marginalized especially depend. Furthermore, it would be quite difficult for
autonomous institutions to coordinate and fund their activities beyond local scales for an
extended period of time. Among other things, they would have to contend with elected municipal governments that control services above the local level
and are backed by fiscal reserves from provincial, state, and national governments (Sirianni 1983, 112–14; Albo 2007). This proved difficult even in Red Vienna in the 1920s and
1930s and Red Bologna in the 1970s, where a variety of councils were supported by radical left municipal governments. For example, when Bologna dramatically expanded
schooling and established parent-teacher councils, the central government in Rome interfered by allocating a mere 25 teachers for its afternoon schools in 1972–73 compared to
the 2,000 it sent to Milan in 1974 (Jäggi, Müller, and Schmid 1977, 124). Furthermore, some radical left governments have provided conditional institutional and financial
support to civic initiatives like councils and services while also prioritizing their autonomy, even from these left governments themselves. Take, for example, the ways in which

Australian femocrats in the 1970s and the Greater London Council in the 1980s supported and
the

greatly expanded women-led childcare cooperatives and rape crisis centers (see chapters 9 and 10). Any
attempt to fundamentally transform capitalist society also needs to form alliances with state
workers, especially the front-line providers of public services (Therborn 1978, 279–80). But attempts to create
autonomous institutions on large scales will not win support from otherwise sympathetic state
workers. Since their jobs depend on the public sector, they “would support the democratization of
administrative apparatuses, but hardly their decomposition” (Sirianni 1983, 114). It is not merely that disaffected
state workers are capable of wide-ranging sabotage of revolutionary efforts. More importantly, public
sector unions can also be positive, active participants in democratizing state structures and
empowering egalitarian social movement and labor movement organizations (see chapters 8 to 11). Take, for
example, Toronto immigration officers in the late 1980s. Fed up with the lousy services they were forced to provide, they formed coalitions with immigrant rights groups, and, in
coordination with them, engaged in a work-to-rule campaign for more resources, boycotted overtime and excessive caseloads, and saw only as many clients as could be
reasonably served during the working day. The joint picket lines of these producers and users of public services garnered such significant community support that the
government was forced to respond by hiring 280 new immigration officers (see chapter 11). Indeed, establishing councils between the providers and users of public goods would
go beyond specific reforms and begin to transform the state. Another reason why alliances must be formed with state workers is that autonomous institutions have never

managed highly integrated and complex administrative systems above local scales. The knowledge necessary to plan and run industry
on national scales cannot be cultivated merely through improvisation (Sirianni 1983, 118). Furthermore, a sum
of autonomous institutions linked by a system of mandates likely cannot develop a collective will, a
spirit of compromise within the bounds of a generally recognized solidarity. For example, during popular
participation in urban planning, if a town opposes having a waste-collection center that they would rather pass

off to their neighbors, this requires some form of centralized arbitration to distribute benefits
and burdens between legitimate interests (Bensaid 2007). Indeed, this would be crucial for, among other things,
ending the environmental racism that locates undesirable facilities in racialized communities .
During the crucial early period of any revolutionary transition, it is likely that there would need to be in place an already existing nation-wide infrastructure. This long-

term and widespread cultivation of democratic capacities, of both the skill and the will, is crucial
not only to prevent major societal disorganization and disintegration. It is also necessary to
account for the fact that, when autonomous institutions reach a certain scale, they have often
prioritized their own survival and become quite competitive with each other . Take, for example, the Russian
case: “The soviet system was continually plagued by problems with credentials, forged mandates, co-optation of outsiders into executive organs, violation of formal divisions of
authority, highly uneven representation due to the lack of consistent formal regulations, and the disproportionate influence of the more powerful, strategically located, or

In other similar cases of dual power—such as

politically favored factories, unions, garrisons, and local soviet bodies” (Sirianni 1983, 104–5).

the Spartacists in Germany, the Confederación Nacional del Trabajo in Spain, and the Hungarian
council government—these problems occurred to the extent that they attempted to displace the
existing state institutions. During revolutionary transitions, this has often provoked attempts to counter the widespread disorganization and competition
through authoritarian centralization (Sirianni 1983, 106–7, 117–18). Thus, autonomous institutions are susceptible to becoming precisely that which they intend to avoid. These

Blanc’s (1964) refrain about the state

are some of the major problems that will confront any attempt to change the world without taking power. Louis

remains true: “Not to use it as an instrument is to encounter it as an obstacle” (232). The risks of
potential co-optation inherent to the struggle for public office are profound, but they entail
fewer difficulties than altogether refusing to operate on the terrain of the state . This attempt to cut the
Gordian knot forgets that the state holds the sword. It substitutes an impossible strategy for one that is

merely excruciatingly difficult.

Capitalism makes extinction inevitable through escalating ecological

catastrophes and creates violence across racial and gendered lines—
confronting it requires a reclamation of the state, not a rejection of it
Parr 15 (Adrian - Professor and Director of The Charles Phelps Taft Research Center at the
University of Cincinnati, “The Wrath of Capital: Neoliberalism and Climate Change Politics –
Reflections,” 4/20/15, Geoforum, Volume 62,
http://dx.doi.org/10.1016/j.geoforum.2015.03.012)
In retrospect I wonder if I should have opened The Wrath of Capital with my closing remarks: ‘I close with the following proposition, which I mean in the most optimistic sense

possible:our politics must start from the point that after 2050 it may all be over.’ (Parr, 2013: 147). The emphasis
here is on maybe. A future world of rising oceans, extreme weather events, species extinction,
pollution, and increasing inequity is not inevitable. If the human race continues on its current
course, then the earth could very well become an inhospitable place for a great many species,
people included. To change course though, humanity needs to begin with a healthy dose of critical realism and an optimistic understanding of the political
opportunities climate change presents. Using a neoliberal framework to craft solutions to climate change

produces a vicious circle that reinstates the selfsame social organization and broader
sociocultural and economic structures that have led to global climate change. The Wrath of Capital shows that
climate change is not just an economic, cultural, or technological challenge. It is a political dilemma. Rigorous thinking and broadening our

understanding of flourishing and emancipatory politics are important resources we can use to
counter the narrow-minded view that the free market will solve the challenges climate change
poses. The central focus of The Wrath of Capital is how ‘opportunity’ is put to work in climate change politics. Is it a moralizing or political operation? The conclusion I draw
is that thus far the neoliberal framework of climate change politics has turned it into a moralizing

discourse. For as I show the discourse exposes a racist, sexist, privileged political subject who points
the finger of blame in the direction of underdeveloped countries overpopulating the earth, the
Chinese polluting the atmosphere, ‘primitive societies’ in need of ‘modernizing’ their economies
and governments, and an inefficient and ineffectual public sphere that should hand the
ownership and management of common pool resources over to the private sector. All are
moralizing arguments presented under the umbrella of climate change solutions. It is therefore
important we recognize these are not political arguments. Arguments of this kind do not view
the ‘opportunity’ in question as a platform for transforming otherwise oppressive, exploitative,
and coercive power relations. To briefly restate the argument I develop. I start with a now well known and oft cited fact that the scientific
consensus is human activities are changing global climate. If this situation continues predictions
for the future of all life on earth are far from good, and by some accounts these are quite simply
catastrophic. Obviously we need to change course but the lingering question is how to do this? Unsurprisingly, given the prevailing economic and political influence
neoliberalism currently has, solutions to the question of what to do about climate change have used a neoliberal point of reference. The principles of the free market,
privatization, individualism, consumerism, and competition all shape the current direction of climate change politics. In the book I describe how the logic of the free market has
resulted in a new brand of capitalism – climate capitalism – that has led to the creation of a market in pollution (cap and trade, or emissions trading) which has placed the limits
climate change poses for capitalism back in the service of capital accumulation. Vast tracts of land have accordingly been turned into green energy farms (solar panels or wind
farms), which in theory is a fabulous idea, but when practiced unchecked leads to land grabbing. Another form of land appropriation taking place under the guise of climate
change solutions is the greening of cities. Green urbanism, as it is commonly called, refers to modifying cities so as to make them more environmentally friendly. This involves
the creation of bike paths, green roofs, public transportation, green spaces, pedestrian friendly cities, efficient land use policies, and energy efficient buildings; all fabulous
initiatives that potentially could improve the lives of all city dwellers. I show how green urbanism trumps equitable urbanism. Green urbanism in Chicago has also been used to
justify demolishing public housing in a city where land values are growing and the poor are turned out on to the rental market with vouchers in hand designed to offset the
higher rental costs. David Harvey fittingly calls this ‘accumulation by dispossession’, when public wealth is privatized and the poor are displaced (Harvey, 2003). The global
population is expected to peak at just over 9 billion people in 2050. The argument is that more people will place the ecological balance of life on earth under serious strain, and
along with more people comes more greenhouse gas emissions. Focusing on population numbers means that the population debate, as it figures within climate change political
discourse, fails to acknowledge qualitative differences. For instance, not everyone impacts the climate equally. Not everyone has a dangerously high ecological footprint. The
more well to do citizens of the world produce the greatest ecological burdens. Similarly the fear over China’s growing national emissions typically points to a growing Chinese
middle class of eager consumers. However, comparing national greenhouse gas emissions does not honestly represent national emissions. One can easily be fooled into thinking
China poses the greatest threat to achieving a global reduction in greenhouse gas emissions. However, if we consider how much dirty manufacturing high-income nations
outsource to China then we come to realize that high-income nations are in large part responsible for China’s growing emissions. In addition, there are serious theoretical
shortcomings to how per capita emissions statistics figure within climate change discourse. Rates of consumption rely upon the individual subject being the primary unit of
analysis, at the expense of analyses that produce a nuanced examination of how different collective scenarios, such as household size and whether a person is an urban or rural
dweller, also impact patterns of consumption. More importantly the per capita analysis of reproduction does not account for how inequity works within the larger discourse of
reproductive rights. I ask: ‘Are the poor women from low-and middle-income countries having fewer babies so that the affluent can continue to consume a steady line of cheap
commodities that are made by the cheap labor of these selfsame women?’ (Parr, 2013: 50). I use the example of women working at the plastic-recycling center in the Dharavi
slum in Mumbai to explain that women being ‘liberated’ from the reproductive role traditionally assigned to them does not necessarily lead to emancipation. Indeed the women
I met were working around the clock in filthy conditions with no workers rights returning to a tiny shack and a long list of domestic chores that had them working well into the
night and rising before the sun came up. In this context the population debate fails to tackle the feminist problem of how women’s bodies are coded, and the location of female
bodies in a matrix of power that is oppressive and exploitative. Tangentially related to the population debate is the growing concern over the diminishing quality and quantity of
potable water. For example, the United Nations ‘predicts that by 2025 two out of three people will be living in conditions of water stress, and 1.8 billion people will be living in
regions of absolute water scarcity’ (Parr, 2013: 53). If we also consider how climate change is changing the hydrologic cycle it is unsurprising that competition over water
resources is mounting. This situation has spurred on a burgeoning water market, resulting in the privatization of water resources and unlikely marriages between the public and
private sector to form. Water scarcity, when combined with extreme weather events and changing seasonal patterns also impacts food production. The solution to this has been
the widespread industrialization of food production which I explain has led to a growing market in patenting indigenous ecological knowledge, seeds, and the violent exploitation

Using the logic of neoliberalism to ‘solve’ the crisis climate change

of animal reproductive systems and immigrant labor.

poses is not a solution it is a displacement activity. And as the final chapter argues, this displacement activity is
an act of violence that conceals a deeper structural violence, or what Zizek would call the ‘objective
violence’, of global capitalism (Zizek, 2010) such that the political weight of the problem is no longer
felt. Critically engaging with this structure of objective violence is a necessary first step in
creating emancipatory solutions and engaging new political subjectivities. Some reviewers have disputed the book
for lacking concrete solutions (Stoekl, 2013; Pearse, 2014). Others regard my conclusions as pessimistic (Cuomo and Schueneman, 2013: 699), stating the message I leave a
reader with is one of general futility (Miller, 2013: 1). I understand the criticism but I would disagree adding that I tackle the nihilistic condition of climate change politics
describing how it empties the political promise of futurity out of climate change discourse. What is nihilistic, in my view, is presenting a neoliberal worldview as a universal
instead of appreciating it is merely a construction and as such it is refutable. Recognizing this, describing how it works, and understanding its contingent character is for me a
political strategy. Allan Stoekl asks ‘If we are to do away with consumerist individualism’ then, ‘what, in practice, will replace it?’ (Stoekl, 2013: 4). I am coming at this issue from
a slightly different vantage point. Instead of hoping to eliminate consumerist individualism, I am more interested in the machinic problem of how consumerist individualism

we need to first recognize that individualism

works. This point is indebted to Deleuze and Guattari’s analysis of desire as social. As I see it,

as expressed through consumption is just one kind of investment human energies and affects
can take. This point is at the core of my analysis of sustainability culture in Hijacking Sustainability (Parr, 2009). The observation has concrete
political consequences for it means energies and affects can be re-directed away from individual
consumption and find investment in more emancipatory outcomes. Consumerist individualism is
therefore not inevitable; it can be countered, but only if we first grasp how it works. Stoekl goes on to
inquire what kind of government, ‘elected by whom, and with what (and whose) money’ could successfully realize a sustainable project (Stoekl, 2013: 4). His query echoes a
similar question raised by Rebecca Pearse who writes, ‘How to turn a sense of humanity’s complicity with violence of capital into political practice is less clear.’ (Pearse, 2014:
133). Likewise Ryder W. Miller recognizes the book’s call to ‘carry on’, yet without presenting ‘many new options or ideas’ (Miller (2013): 1). I do outline an alternative approach
to governance, recognizing that often this issue is presented as having either a vertical orientation (State or corporate governance) or one that is constituted as a horizontal mass

I suggest a more collaborative and equitable governance structure

movement (grassroots organization, local initiatives).

might emerge from a transversal operation, whereby the horizontal and vertical dialectically
engage each other. Whilst I acknowledge the importance of presenting concrete solutions that governments, people, and entrepreneurs can A. Parr / Geoforum
62 (2015) 70–72 71 implement, the point I make is that if politics remains at the level of neoliberal outcomes this presumes solutions to the problems climate change poses are
properly the province of capital accumulation. In my view, this is not a solution it is an act of bad faith. Under such circumstances climate change politics is neutralized and is

Solving the climate change puzzle cannot be

even reduced to a mere banality, because it is stripped of its transformative potential.

achieved under the rubric of neoliberalism because this occurs at the expense of an
emancipatory project. Life will never be sustainable if the structural violence of capital
accumulation continues unchecked. This distinction is ultimately an intellectual problem concerning understanding. What I set out to do is expand
the reader’s understanding of how neoliberalism has become the standard against which all social, economic, cultural, and political responses to climate change are measured.
Solutions are constructions and currently these primarily take place within a neoliberal frame. In my view this is lazy thinking and it has produced a narrow, even ignorant view
of what opportunity consists of. The opportunity climate change presents is primarily valued as an instrument of privatization, individualism, consumption, commodification, and
capital accumulation. The Wrath of Capital critiques this kind of reductive thinking explaining it arises when the practices of climate change politics are disaggregated from
gender, racism, class relations, speciesism, and sexuality. If we widen the lens of climate change analysis to include the forces of exploitation, oppression, and inequity then we
allow deeper ontological problems to surface. Thinking about these issues within the context of climate change discourse is a political strategy because it shifts the priorities
away from capital accumulation and onto advancing the social good. All in all The Wrath of Capital identifies the myriad ways in which climate change politics has gained
traction, however, I go on to consider how the logic of neoliberalism infects the potential political opportunity climate change presents. As neoliberalism enters the arenas of
climate change discourse, policy, debate, and solutions – economic growth, population growth, food and water scarcity, spectacle – the transformative political opportunity is

hollowed out. So yes, I do end with a desperate plea announcing all roads currently lead us through the
gates of capitalist heaven. However, this is only true if our politics ignores the emancipatory
promise of political change and continues on its current neoliberal trajectory. Under this schema the
opportunity in question merely constructs passive subjectivities that are circumscribed by the inevitability of a neoliberal future. I maintain this is only

inevitable as long as the neoliberal inscription of all spaces for all times remain closed to
critique.

The alternative is to build solidarity around a mass socialist movement—

individualistic politics fractures movements and fails to spur social or
institutional change
Dudzic & Reed 15 (Mark - National Organizer and Chairman of the United States Labor Party
& Adolph - professor of political science at the University of Pennsylvania, “THE CRISIS OF
LABOUR AND THE LEFT IN THE UNITED STATES,” p. 364-367, Socialist Register)

This does not mean that those who embrace a transformative vision must abandon all hope. Rather, the priorities, activities and resources of
those who would rebuild a real left must be informed by this strategic sensibility. Building or rebuilding an
effective left presence will be quite likely a decades-long process. This means that we are not well served by clambering after the Next Big Thing. We must start by

excising the impulse – quite understandable for a political movement devoid of any real agency – toward utopian dreaming and
wishful thinking. The spark will not ignite the prairie fire. Nor will the Ark float on its own
account no matter how carefully we construct it. Recognizing the left’s political irrelevance can
be emancipating, as it reduces the sense of urgency to try to mobilize around every one of neoliberalism’s daily outrages. That should provide
space for serious strategic discussion of how to begin to build a mass socialist movement based
in the working class and the creation of new institutions capable of mobilizing cross-class
solidarity, as Sam Gindin has articulated in a particularly clear and compelling way.25 Certainly, the US left could benefit from a
nonsectarian, organized force with a coherent strategic vision and programme. The absence of a
disciplined, unified and sophisticated group of cadre is a major source of the left’s incoherence,
and helps explain why moments of spontaneous political upsurge have had, at best, an episodic
impact and remain unconnected to similar moments in the past – even those in which the same activists have participated.
Such organization, however, cannot be created in a vacuum. It can only emerge in tandem with a
growing working-class movement. We fear that in the specific context of US history and practice, the socialist project is too narrow a platform from
which to launch a broad and far ranging left revitalization. Socialist practice in the US has become the domain of sectarian

groups that drive away working-class support, and socialist consciousness has not embedded
itself in any significant sections of the working class or a left capable of exercising social power. That failing reflects
the cultural and ideological triumph of neoliberalism and the identitarian ideologies and
programmes that serve as its left wing. In this environment, building socialism is exclusively a
project of cadre development, albeit one that cannot hope to succeed apart from broader
movement-building. Broad movement-building requires mobilizing around an agenda of
substantively anti-capitalist reforms that directly and militantly assert the priority of social
needs over market forces, bourgeois property rights and managerial prerogative in the
workplace and production process. Struggles to preserve and expand public institutions and to
decommoditize basic human needs like housing, transportation, healthcare and education could
begin to address the immediate challenge, which is to create a new popular constituency for a
revitalized movement, instead of reorganizing or re-mobilizing an already existing but totally marginalized left.26 Some question whether the current US
labour movement is too narrow a platform on which to rebuild a left. In a widely circulated article, ‘Fortress Unionism’, Rich Yeselson correctly highlights the atrophy of the
labour movement and shows how its decline began with the passage of the TaftHartley Act in 1947. He contends that labour’s ‘current institutional expression cannot, via a
creative conceptual breakthrough (“tactics or broader strategy”), engender a vast growth in union strength comparable to its former peak. In short, “organized labor” can no
longer create a space for workers to join their organizations by the millions’.27 In grim statistical detail, Jake Rosenfeld’s What Unions No Longer Do gives fuel to this thesis. He
points out that despite decades of exemplary, heroic and pioneering organizing by Justice for Janitors in the immigrant community, ‘Today only one in seven Hispanic janitors in
the United States belongs to a union, down from one in five back in 1988, when Justice for Janitors began’.28 Yeselson calls for a ‘fortress unionism’ that would ‘defend the
remaining high-density regions, sectors and companies’ and then ‘Wait for the workers to say they have had enough. When they demand in vast numbers collective solutions to
their problems, seize upon that energy and institutionalize it.’29 This approach correctly identifies the urgent need to preserve the remnants of the current labour movement as
an institutional base upon which to build a future revitalized movement. And it also correctly points out the haplessness of willy-nilly organizing schemes that do little to build

a
power for working people while exposing their best leaders in unorganized workplaces to massive employer retaliation without any ability to defend them. But

strategy of waiting for workers to say they have had enough ultimately relies on magical
thinking not unlike that of isolated Japanese soldiers scattered on island outposts at the end of the Second World War waiting for reinforcements from a defeated empire.
Many of Yeselson’s critics, however, are equally quixotic. Bruce Raynor and Andy Stern, two of the most cynical practitioners of a unionism that disempowers workers and is

based on a model of global class collaboration, point out that the ‘fortress’ strategy will do little to reduce inequality. Instead,
they place their hopes in ‘strategic alliances with willing employers’; in unions developing value-added services to complement human resource departments; and in leveraging
union and public-sector pension funds to rebuild union density.30 This strategy would liquidate the very concept of an independent labour movement. Given its decimation and
marginalization, any revitalization movement would need to be built from a base that is far broader than the current institutional labour movement. A revitalized labour
movement will have to embrace new organizational forms and some of the models emerging from new labour organizing show significant potential. Some are driven by
necessity as the legal status of many immigrants and of workers in industries such as trucking, taxi driving and residential construction make organizing under current labour law
virtually illegal. Much of this new organizing is being done by Worker Centers with heavy foundation funding and has the character of social work along the settlement house

Much of it seems also, more or less openly, to fold class analysis into
model of the early twentieth century.

identitarian discourses that both substitute moralizing for political critique and fit comfortably
within the NGO model. Such impulses, as well as the popularity of neologism, underlie arguments that current conditions have generated a new social
formation, a ‘precariat’ that lies outside the traditional capitalist class structure.31 But some associated with this category have begun to evolve into substantial, self-conscious
worker-run organizations. The Taxi Workers Alliance grew from a small New York City advocacy group to become a national organization (whose members are classified as
‘independent contractors’ and thus ineligible for union representation under US labour law) and was recently admitted to the AFL-CIO.32 In Vermont and elsewhere, strategic
Workers Centers have built organic alliances with the labour movement and gone on to lead significant campaigns for healthcare for all, paid sick days and economic justice

through the mobilization of a working-class constituency.33 Some argue that these campaigns and projects have the
capacity to coalesce into geographically based class-conscious organizations and have called for
the building of worker assemblies to give voice to this new movement.34 Such an effort would require a level of
ideological sophistication and institutional independence that does not currently exist. Attempts to establish these structures on the

ground have been premature and could actually inhibit the kind of broad, class-based
organizing that inspires this movement in much the same way that many Labor Party chapters
became captured by an ‘activistist’ mentality that focused more on preaching to the converted
than building a constituency, while driving away real working-class voices who represented
something more than themselves. New models are most successful when they can leverage
existing organization and power to build outwards into new organization. Recent experiences
organizing healthcare and homecare workers, hotel and casino workers and building services
employees are fruitful examples of smart and strategic organizing that have leveraged existing
union relationships and/ or political opportunities to build power for working people. We also look to the
logistics organizing campaigns – which focus on the chokepoints of global capitalism and build on

existing union power on the docks and other shipping centres – as having the potential to
develop a particularly powerful form of a strategic union presence in economic sectors at the
very core of contemporary capitalism.35

Extinction is the only egalitarian metric---anything else collapses cooperation

on collective action crises and makes extinction inevitable
Khan 18 (Risalat, activist and entrepreneur from Bangladesh passionate about addressing
climate change, biodiversity loss, and other existential challenges. He was featured by The
Guardian as one of the “young climate campaigners to watch” (2015). As a campaigner with the
global civic movement Avaaz (2014-17), Risalat was part of a small core team that spearheaded
the largest climate marches in history with a turnout of over 800,000 across 2,000 cities. After
fighting for the Paris Agreement, Risalat led a campaign joined by over a million people to stop
the Rampal coal plant in Bangladesh to protect the Sundarbans World Heritage forest, and
elicited criticism of the plant from Crédit Agricolé through targeted advocacy. Currently, Risalat
is pursuing an MPA in Environmental Science and Policy at Columbia University as a SIPA
Environmental Fellow, “5 reasons why we need to start talking about existential risks,”
https://www.weforum.org/agenda/2018/01/5-reasons-start-talking-existential-risks-extinction-
moriori/)

Infinite future possibilities I find the story of the Moriori profound. It teaches me two lessons. Firstly, that human culture is far from
immutable. That we can struggle against our baser instincts. That we can master them and rise to unprecedented
challenges. Secondly, that even this does not make us masters of our own destiny. We can make
visionary choices, but the future can still surprise us. This is a humbling realization. Because faced with an
uncertain future, the only wise thing we can do is prepare for possibilities. Standing at the launch pad of the Fourth Industrial
Revolution, the possibilities seem endless. They range from an era of abundance to the end of humanity, and
everything in between. How do we navigate such a wide and divergent spectrum? I am an optimist. From my bubble of privilege, life feels like a rollercoaster ride full of ever
more impressive wonders, even as I try to fight the many social injustices that still blight us. However, the accelerating pace of change amid uncertainty elicits one fundamental

Among the infinite future possibilities, only one outcome is truly irreversible: extinction.
observation.

Concerns about extinction are often dismissed as apocalyptic alarmism. Sometimes, they are. But repeating that
mankind is still here after 70 years of existential warning about nuclear warfare is a straw man
argument. The fact that a 1000-year flood has not happened does not negate its possibility . And
there have been far too many nuclear near-misses to rest easy. As the World Economic Forum’s Annual Meeting in
Davos discusses how to create a shared future in a fractured world, here are five reasons why the possibility of existential
risks should raise the stakes of conversation: 1. Extinction is the rule, not the exception More than
99.9% of all the species that ever existed are gone. Deep time is unfathomable to the human brain. But if
one cares to take a tour of the billions of years of life’s history, we find a litany of forgotten
species. And we have only discovered a mere fraction of the extinct species that once roamed the planet. In the speck of time since the first humans evolved, more than
99.9% of all the distinct human cultures that have ever existed are extinct. Each hunter-gatherer tribe had its own
mythologies, traditions and norms. They wiped each other out, or coalesced into larger formations following the agricultural revolution. However, as major civilizations emerged,

even those that reached incredible heights, such as the Egyptians and the Romans, eventually collapsed. It is only in the very recent past that
we became a truly global civilization. Our interconnectedness continues to grow rapidly. “Stand or fall, we are the last civilization”, as Ricken Patel,
the founder of the global civic movement Avaaz, put it. 2. Environmental pressures can drive extinction More than 15,000 scientists just issued a

‘warning to humanity’. They called on us to reduce our impact on the biosphere, 25 years after their first such appeal. The warning notes that we are far
outstripping the capacity of our planet in all but one measure of ozone depletion, including emissions, biodiversity, freshwater availability and more. The scientists, not a crowd
known to overstate facts, conclude: “soon it will be too late to shift course away from our failing trajectory, and time is running out”. In his 2005 book Collapse, Jared

Diamond charts the history of past societies. He makes the case that overpopulation and resource use
beyond the carrying capacity have often been important, if not the only, drivers of collapse. Even though we are
making important incremental progress in battles such as climate change, we must still achieve tremendous step changes in our

response to several major environmental crises. We must do this even while the world’s population continues to grow. These pressures
are bound to exert great stress on our global civilization. 3. Superintelligence: unplanned obsolescence? Imagine a monkey society that foresaw the ascendance of humans.
Fearing a loss of status and power, it decided to kill the proverbial Adam and Eve. It crafted the most ingenious plan it could: starve the humans by taking away all their bananas.
Foolproof plan, right? This story describes the fundamental difficulty with superintelligence. A superintelligent being may always do something entirely different from what we,
with our mere mortal intelligence, can foresee. In his 2014 book Superintelligence, Swedish philosopher Nick Bostrom presents the challenge in thought-provoking detail, and

advises caution. Bostrom cites a survey of industry experts that projected a 50% chance of the
development of artificial superintelligence by 2050, and a 90% chance by 2075. The latter date is within the
life expectancy of many alive today. Visionaries like Stephen Hawking and Elon Musk have warned of the existential risks from

artificial superintelligence. Their opposite camp includes Larry Page and Mark Zuckerberg. But on an issue that concerns the future of humanity, is it really
wise to ignore the guy who explained the nature of space to us and another guy who just put a reusable rocket in it? 4. Technology: known knowns and unknown unknowns
Many fundamentally disruptive technologies are coming of age, from bioengineering to quantum computing, 3-D printing, robotics, nanotechnology and more. Lord Martin Rees
describes potential existential challenges from some of these technologies, such as a bioengineered pandemic, in his book Our Final Century. Imagine if North Korea, feeling
secure in its isolation, could release a virulent strain of Ebola, engineered to be airborne. Would it do it? Would ISIS? Projecting decades forward, we will likely develop
capabilities that are unthinkable even now. The unknown unknowns of our technological path are profoundly humbling. 5. 'The Trump Factor' Despite our scientific ingenuity,
we are still a confused and confusing species. Think back to two years ago, and how you thought the world worked then. Has that not been upended by the election of Donald
Trump as US President, and everything that has happened since? The mix of billions of messy humans will forever be unpredictable. When the combustible forces described
above are added to this melee, we find ourselves on a tightrope. What choices must we now make now to create a shared future, in which we are not at perpetual risk of

Throughout history, we have rallied against the ‘other’. Tribes have

destroying ourselves? Common enemy to common cause

overpowered tribes, empires have conquered rivals. Even today, our fiercest displays of unity typically
happen at wartime. We give our lives for our motherland and defend nationalistic pride like a wounded lion. But like the early Morioris, we 21st-
century citizens find ourselves on an increasingly unstable island. We may have a violent past,
but we have no more dangerous enemy than ourselves. Our task is to find our own Nunuku’s Law. Our own
shared contract, based on equity, would help us navigate safely. It would ensure a future that
unleashes the full potential of our still-budding human civilization, in all its diversity. We cannot
do this unless we are humbly grounded in the possibility of our own destruction. Survival is
life’s primal instinct. In the absence of a common enemy, we must find common cause in
survival. Our future may depend on whether we realize this.
 1NC---Ballot PIK
Presenting the 1AC’s value as dependent on the recognition of the critic reduces
the revolutionary nature of the act—fails to produce meaningful change and
draws them into the oppressive gaze of the academy ---vote Negative to decline
affirmation
Phillips 99 – Dr. Kendall R. Phillips, Professor of Communication at Central Missouri State
University, PhD in Speech Communication from Pennsylvania State University, MA in Speech
Communication from Central Missouri State University, BS in Psychology and Sociology from
Southwest Baptist University, “Rhetoric, Resistance, and Criticism: A Response to Sloop and
Ono”, Philosophy & Rhetoric, Volume 32, Number 1, p. 96-101

My concern with this movement centers around an issue that Sloop and Ono seem to take as a given, namely,
the role of the critic. On one hand, calling for the systematic investigation of existing marginalized discourses is a natural extension both of
critical rhetoric (see McKerrow 1989, 1991) and of the general ideological turn in criticism (see Wander 1983). On the other hand, the ease of

transition from criticism in the service of resistance to criticism of resistance may obscure the
need to address some fundamental issues regarding the general function of rhetorical criticism
in an uncertain and contentious world. Beyond licensing the critic to engage in political struggle, Sloop
and Ono advocate the pursuit of covert resistant discourses. Such a move not only stretches our understanding of rhetoric

and criticism, but also alters significantly the relationship between critic and out- law. Critical
interrogation of dominant discursive practices in the service of political/cultural reform is
supplanted in favor of positioning covert out- law communities as objects of investigation.
Invited to seek out subversive discourses, the critic is positioned as the active agent of change
and the out-law discourse becomes merely instrumental. Rather than academic criticism acting
in service of everyday acts of resistance, everyday acts of resistance are put into the service of
academic criticism. Rhetorical resistance That we are "caught within conflicting logics of justice that are culturally struggled over" (Sloop and
Ono 1997, 50) and that rhetoric is employed in these struggles seems an uncontroversial statement. Despite the theoretical miasma surrounding
judgment, Sloop and Ono accurately note, the material process of rendering judgments (and of disputing the logics of litigation) continues in the world
of actually practiced discourse. In the materially contested world, rhetoric is utilized both by those seeking to secure the grounds of dominant judgment
and by those seeking to undermine or supplant dominant cultural logics with some out-law notion of justice. The distinction between these two cultural
groups, "in-law" and out- law, however, deserves some consideration prior to any discussion of the role of the critic as implied in the out-law discourse
project. The discourse of the dominant or those within the bounds of superordinate logics of litigation is reminiscent of Michel De Certeau's (1984)
strategic discourse. For De Certeau, strategies are utilized by those who have authority by virtue of their proper position. Strategies exploit the
institutionally guaranteed background consensus by which power relations (and litigations) are maintained and advanced. In contrast, tactics are
utilized by those having no proper place of authority within the discursive economy who must seek opportunities whereby the discourse of the
dominant might be undermined and contested. To extend Sloop and Ono's definition, out-law discourses are those that can (and, by their analysis, do)
take advantage of situations (e.g., race riots) to disrupt the regularity of dominant cultural groups. The ongoing struggle between strategically instituted
cultural dominants and the "out-law always lurk[ing] in the distance" (66) is acknowledged, even celebrated, by Sloop and Ono. What their
acknowledgment fails to provide, however, is a clear need for critical intervention. Indeed, quite the reverse is presented: It is the critic (particularly the
left-leaning critic) who needs out-law discourse. While the struggles over justice, equality, and freedom have gone on, the left-leaning critics are those
who have theoretically excluded themselves from the disputes. The study of out-law dis- courses, then, provides a means to reinvigorate the
intellectual and re-institute (academic) leftist thinking into popular political struggles (53-54). Thus, Sloop and Ono's project incorporates three types of
rhetoric: the rhetoric of the in-law, presumably the traditional object of critical attention; the rhetoric of the out-law, the study of which may transform
our understanding of judgment as well as reinvigorate leftist democratic critiques; and the rhetoric of the critics who, having lost their political po-
tency, can exploit the discourse of the out-law to promote ideological struggles. It is to this critical rhetoric that I now turn. Resistance criticism Sloop
and Ono (1997) clearly state the relationship they envision between the rhetorical critic and out-law discourse: "Ultimately, we will argue that the role
of critical rhetoricians is to produce 'materialist conceptions of judgment,' using out-law judgments to disrupt dominant logics of judgment" (54;
emphasis added). Here the critic seeks out vernacular discourse (60), focuses on the methods and values embodied in these communities (62), listens
to and evaluates the out-law community (62-63), and chooses appropriate discourses for the purpose of disrupting dominant practices (63). Essentially,
it is the critic who seeks out marginalized discourses and returns them to the center for the purpose of provoking dominant cultural groups (63).
Despite acknowledging the efficacy of out-law discourses, Sloop and Ono assume that the critiques generated and presented by the out-law community
have only minimal effect. The irony, and indeed arrogance, of this assumption is evident when they claim: "There are cases, however, when, without
the prompting of academic critics, out-law discourses serve local purposes at times and at others resonate within dominant discourses, disrupting
sedimented ways of thinking, transforming dominant forms of judgment" (60; emphasis added). Sloop and Ono seem to suggest that such locally
generated critiques are the exception, whereas the political efficacy of the academic critic is the rule. This seems an odd claim, given that the
justification for their out-law discourse project is the lack of politically viable academic critique and the perceived potency of out-law conceptions of
judgment. Their suggestion that out-law communities are in need of the academic critic contradicts
not only the already disruptive nature of existing out-law discourses (the grounds for using out-law discourse), but
also the impotence of contemporary critical discourse (the warrant for studying out-law discourse). By this I do not mean that the critiques and theories
generated by academically instituted intellectuals have not been incorporated into subversive discourses. Just as out-law discourses inevitably mount
critiques of dominant logics, so, too, the perspectives on rhetoric and criticism generated by academics are used in resistance movements. Feminist
critiques of patriarchy, queer theories of homophobia, postcolonial interrogations of race have found their way into the service of resistant groups. The
key distinction I wish to make is that the existence of criticism (academic or self-generated) in resistance does not necessitate Sloop and Ono's move to
a criticism of resistance. What Sloop and Ono fail to offer is an adequate argument for "taking public
speaking out of the streets and studying it in the classroom, for treating it less as an expression
of protest" (Wander 1983, 3) and more as an object for analysis and reproduction within the
political economy of the academy. Philip Wander made a similar charge against Herbert Wicheln's early critical project, and this
concern should remain at the forefront of any discussion aimed at expanding the scope and function of criticism. Sloop and Ono offer

numerous directives for the critic without addressing whether the critic should be
examining out-law discourses in the first place. While it is too early to suggest any definitive answer to the question
of criticism of resistance, some preliminary arguments as to why critics should not pursue out-law discourses can be offered: (1) Hidden
out-
law discourses may have good reasons to stay hidden. Sloop and Ono specifically instruct us that "the logic of the out-
law must constantly be searched for, brought forth" (66) and used to disrupt dominant practices. But are we to believe that all out-law

discourses are prepared to mount such a challenge to the dominant cultural logic? Or, indeed, that the members of out-law

communities are prepared to be brought into the arena of public surveillance in the service of
reconstituting logics of litigation? It seems highly unlikely that all divergent cultural groups have developed equally, or that all members of these groups
share Sloop and Ono's "imperial impulse" (51) to promote their conceptions and practices of justice. (2) Academic critical discourse is not transparent.
Here I allude to the overall problem of translation (see Foucault 1994; Lyotard 1988; Lyotard and Thebaud 1985; Zabus 1995) as an extension of the
previous concern. Critical discourse cannot become the medium of commensurability for divergent language games. Are we to believe that the "use" of
out-law dis- course by critics to disrupt dominant practices can fail to do violence to these diverse/divergent logics? Are out-law discourses merely tools
to be exploited and discarded in the pursuit of returning leftist academic dis- course to the center? (3) Perhaps the academic translation of out-law
discourse could be true to the internal logic of the out-law community. And, perhaps
the re-presentation of out-law logic
within the academic community will bestow a degree of legitimacy on the out-law community.
Nonetheless, the effect of legitimizing out-law discourse is unknown and potentially destructive.
In an effort to siphon the political energy of out-law discourse into academic practice, we may
ultimately destroy the dissatisfaction that serves as a cathexis for these out-law discourses. It
seems possible that academic recognition might take the place of struggle for material opportunities (see

Fraser 1997). But, will academic legitimation create any material changes in the conditions of out-

law communities? I mean to suggest, not that it is better to allow the out-law community to suffer for its cause, but rather that incorporating
the struggle into an (admittedly) impotent academic critique does not offer a prima facie alternative. (4) Criticism of resistance denies the practical and
theoretical importance of opportunity. Returning to De Certeau's notion of tactics, the crucial element of these discursive moves is their use of
opportunity to disrupt the proper authority of the dominant. The kairos of intervention provides the key to undermining "in-law" discourses. But when
is the "right moment in time" for the academic reproduction of out-law discourse? Mapping the points of resistance (ala Foucault and Biesecker) entails
interrogating "in-law" discourses for their incongruities and contradictions, not turning the academic gaze upon those communities waiting for an
opportunity. Out-laws do not lurk in the forefront (66), hoping to be exposed by academic critics; they wait for the right moment for their disruption.
Rhetoricians can provide rhetorical instructions for seeking opportunities and for exploiting these opportunities (literally making the culturally weaker
argument the stronger), but this does not justify interrogating (intervening in) the cultural logics of the marginalized. The concerns raised here are not
designed to dismiss Sloop and Ono's provocative essay. The divergent critical logic they outline deserves careful consideration within the critical
community, and it is my hope that the concerns I raise may help to further problematize the relationship between resistance and rhetorical criticism.
Rhetorical criticism As I have suggested, my purpose is to use the provocative nature of Sloop and Ono's project to extend disputes regarding the ends
of rhetorical criticism. Diverging perspectives on the ends of criticism have been categorized by Barbara Warnick (1992) as falling along four general
lines: artist, analyst, audience, and advocate. Leah Ceccarelli (1997) discerns similar categories around the aesthetic, epistemic, and political ends of
rhetorical criticism. The out-law discourse project presents clear ties to the notion of critic as advocate. For
Sloop and Ono, the critic is
an interested party, discerning (and at times disputing) the underlying values and forces contained within
a discourse. Additionally, however, the out-law discourse critic is an analyst focusing on the
hidden, aberrant texts of the out-law and "rendering] an incoherent or esoteric text comprehensible"
(Warnick 1992, 233). Now, I am not suggesting that a critic must serve only one function or that the roles of advocate and analyst are mutually
exclusive; rather, these entanglings of power (political ends) and knowledge (epistemic ends) are inevitable. My
concern is that we not neglect the complexity of these entanglements. Turning
covert out-law discourses into objects of
our analyses runs the risk of subjecting them both to the gaze of the dominant and to the
power relations of the academy. As the works of Michel Foucault (especially 1979, 1980) aptly illustrate, practices presented as
extending such noble goals as emancipation and humanity may endow institutions of confinement and objectification. Any justification for studying
out-law dis- course because doing so may extend our political usefulness in the pursuit of emancipatory goals must not obscure the already existing
power relations authorizing such studies. Our attempts to extend our domains of knowledge and expertise (authority) must not be pursued
unreflexively.

We can defend the rest of the aff strategy and negate only certain parts – 2NR
consolidation is best and we can subtract 2AC frames.

Only conditional tests of limited agreement incentivize narrow testing of their

specific claims. Requiring us to disprove the entire aff forces extreme impact
turns that lack nuance and political utility.

Nuanced engagement and allowance of criticism is a better model for

revolutionary resistance
Williams 15 – Douglas Williams, Third-Generation Organizer, BA in Political Science from the
University of Minnesota at Morris, MPA from the University of Missouri Columbia, Doctoral
Student in Political Science at Wayne State University, internally quoting Freddie DeBoer,
Lecturer at Purdue University and PhD in Rhetoric and Composition from Purdue University and
MA in English with a Concentration in Writing and Rhetoric from The University of Rhode Island,
The South Lawn, https://thesouthlawn.org/2015/03/10/the-dead-end-of-identity-politics/
What conversation is there to be had around that? It is as if the mere existence of her identity inoculates her from any critique. How
did we get here? — Freddie DeBoer makes a great point in his piece on what he calls “critique drift“: “This all largely descends from a
related condition: many in the broad online left have adopted a norm where being an ally means that you
never critique people who are presumed to be speaking from your side, and especially if they are seen as
speaking from a position of greater oppression. I understand the need for solidarity , I understand
the problem of undermining and derailing, and I recognize why people feel strongly that those who have
traditionally been silenced should be given a position of privilege in our conversations. But critique
drift demonstrates why a healthy, functioning political movement can’t forbid tactical criticism
of those with whom you largely agree. Because critical vocabulary and political arguments are
common intellectual property which gain or lose power based on their communal use, never
criticizing those who misuse them ultimately disarms the left. Refusing to say ‘this is a real thing,
but you are not being fair or helpful in making that accusation right now’ alienates potential
allies, contributes to the burgeoning backlash against social justice politics, and prevents us from
making the most accurate, cogent critique possible.” Look, I am Black. Also, sometimes, I can be wrong. Those
two things are not mutually exclusive, and yet we have gotten to a point where any critique of tactics used
by oppressed communities can result in being deemed “sexist/racist/insert oppression here-ist”
and cast out of the Social Justice Magic Circle. And listen, maybe that is cool with some folks. Maybe the revolution that so many of
these types speak about will simply consist of everyone spontaneously coming to consciousness and there will be no need for
coalitions, give-and-take, or contact with people who do not know every word or phrase that these groups use as some sort of
litmus test for the unwashed. But for the rest of us who reside in a reality-based world, where every social interaction is not tailored
for your idiosyncratic indignations, we know that casting folks out for the tiniest of offenses will lead to a Left that will forever be
marginalized and ineffective. I have stated before that the kind of people who put out these lists and engage in the kind of
identitarian caterwauling that has become rote copy on the Internet might actually want that, as
a world where left-wing
activism is made potent and transformative will be one where they cannot simply take comfort
in their cocoon of self-righteousness. But damn them when I can turn on my computer and see one Black person after another
being gunned down by police. Damn them when we have a president that can sit there with a straight face and speak the words of
freedom and liberation while using the power at his disposal to deny those very concepts to others. And damn them when we can
get thousands of words on Patricia Arquette drunk at a party or how it is privileged to not like the same musicians that they do, but
we cannot seem to get any thoughts on how the biggest moment for communities of color since the 1960s is being squandered in a
hail of intergenerational squabbling. And do not even get me started on people writing articles that malign long-standing activist
organizations without a whiff of evidence that there has been any wrongdoing on their part.
Case
 1NC---Top
Even if their method and theory is correct, there’s no reason the ballot is key.
They don’t have a reason why their 1AC is dependent on receiving the ballot,
and it’s a reason why the topic is bad which proves you can vote negative on
presumption.

Anti-statism fails
Day 9 (Christopher, The Historical Failure of Anarchism: Implications for the Future of the
Revolutionary Project,
ttp://mikeely.files.wordpress.com/2009/07/historical_failure_of_aanarchism_chris_day_kasama
.pdf)
The strength of anarchism is its moral insistence on the primacy of human freedom over political expediency. But human freedom exists in a political
context. It is not sufficient, however, to simply take the most uncompromising position in defense
of freedom. It is neccesary to actually win freedom. Anti-capitalism doesn’t do the victims of capitalism any good if you
don’t actually destroy capitalism. Anti-statism doesn’t do the victims of the state any good if you don’t

actually smash the state. Anarchism has been very good at putting forth visions of a free society
and that is for the good. But it is worthless if we don’t develop an actual strategy for realizing
those visions. It is not enough to be right, we must also win. Continues… Finally, revolutionaries have a
responsibility to have a plausible plan for making revolution. Obviously, there are not enough
revolutionaries to make a revolution at this moment. We can reasonably anticipate that the future will bring upsurges in
popular opposition to the existing system. Without being any more specific about where those upsurges might occur it seems clear that it is from the
ranks of such upsurges that the numbers of the revolutionary movement will be increased, eventually leading to a revolutionary situation (which is
distinguished from the normal crises of the current order only by the existence of a revolutionary movement ready to push things further). People
who are fed up with the existing system and who are willing to commit themselves to its overthrow will look around for likeminded people who
have an idea of what to do. If we don’t have a plausible plan for making revolution we can be sure that there will be somebody else there who will.
There is no guarantee that revolutionary-minded people will be spontaneously drawn to anti-
authoritarian politics. The plan doesn’t have to be an exact blueprint. It shouldn’t be treated as something sacred. It should be subject to
constant revision in light of experience and debate. But at the very least it needs to be able to answer questions that have been posed concretely in
the past. We know that we will never confront the exact same circumstances as previous revolutions. But we should also know that certain
problems are persistent ones and that if we can’t say what we would have done in the past we should not expect people to think much of our ability
to face the future

And the state is inevitable

Alexander Wendt, 2003, “Why a World State is Inevitable,” European Journal of International
Relations, pg. 528-529. ZKMSU

a world state is inevitable. Its cause is the

Against the perpetual war of Realism and the contingent perpetual peace of modern liberalism, I have argued that

teleological logic of anarchy, which channels struggles for recognition toward an end-state that
transcends that logic. As such, the argument reverses social scientists’ traditional ‘rearview mirror’ perspective on time and causation (Wendt, 2001), since it suggests that ‘ the
ultimate organizing principle [of the system] is in the outcome of the process and not its genetic
origin’.66 One might even say that the logic at work here is that of recognition, not anarchy, since only a world state can
realize or complete the mutual recognition of sovereignty first laid down in the society of states.
Ontology first is logically bankrupt
Jackson 2010 (Patrick Thaddeus Jackson, Associate Professor of International Relations in
the School of International Service at the American University in Washington, DC, 2010, “The
Conduct of Inquiry in International Relations: Philosophy of Science and its Implications for the
Study of World Politics,” ebook)

However, I do not think that putting ontology first is the panacea that many seem to think it is. For
one thing, ifone puts ontology first then one is, at least provisionally, committed to a particular (if revisable)
account of what the world is made up of: co-constituted agents and structures, states interacting under conditions of
anarchy, global class relations, or what have you. This is a rather large leap to make on anyone’s authority, let
alone that of a philosopher of science. Along these lines, it is unclear what if any warrant we could
provide for most ontological claims if ontology in this sense were to always “come first.” If
someone makes an ontological claim about something existing in the world, then we are faced
with an intriguing epistemological problem of how possibly to know whether that claim is true,
and the equally intriguing problem of selecting the proper methods to use in evaluating the
claim (Chernoff 2009b, 391). But if epistemology and method are supposed to be fitted to ontology,
then we are stuck with techniques and standards designed to respond to the specificity of the
object under investigation. This problem is roughly akin to using state-centric measurements of cross-border transactions
to determine whether globalization is eroding state borders, because the very object under investigation—“state borders”—is
presupposed by the procedures of data-collection, meaning that the answer will always, and necessarily, assert the persistence of
the state.

Fugitivity fails – change is rejected plus 3 disads

Subotnik 98 – Professor of Law, Touro College, Jacob D. Fuchsberg Law Center. 7 Cornell J. L.
& Pub. Pol'y 681

B. And the Consequences Having traced a major strand in the development of CRT, we turn now to the strands' effect on the
relationships of CRATs with each other and with outsiders. As the foregoing material suggests, the central CRT message is not simply that minorities
are being treated unfairly, or even that individuals out there are in pain - assertions for which there are data to serve as grist for the academic mill - but
that the minority scholar himself or herself hurts and hurts badly. An important problem that concerns the very definition of
the scholarly enterprise now comes into focus. What can an academic trained to [*694] question and to doubt 72 possibly say to Patricia Williams when
effectively she announces, "I hurt bad"? 73 "No, you don't hurt"? "You shouldn't hurt"? "Other people hurt too"? Or, most dangerously - and perhaps
most tellingly - "What do you expect when you keep shooting yourself in the foot?" If the majority were perceived as having the well- being of minority
groups in mind, these responses might be acceptable, even welcomed. And they might lead to real conversation. But, writes Williams, the failure by
those "cushioned within the invisible privileges of race and power... to incorporate a sense of precarious connection as a part of our lives is... ultimately
obliterating." 74 "Precarious." "Obliterating." These
words will clearly invite responses only from fools and
sociopaths; they will, by effectively precluding objection, disconcert and disunite others. "I hurt," in academic discourse,
has three broad though interrelated effects. First, it demands priority from the reader's conscience. It is for this reason that law review editors, waiving
usual standards, have privileged a long trail of undisciplined - even silly 75 - destructive and, above all, self-destructive arti [*695] cles. 76 Second, by
emphasizing the emotional bond between those who hurt in a similar way, "I hurt" discourages fellow sufferers from abstracting

themselves from their pain in order to

gain perspective on their condition. 77 [*696] Last, as we have seen, it precludes the
possibility of open and structured conversation with others. 78 [*697] It is because of this conversation-
stopping effect of what they insensitively call "first-person agony stories" that Farber and Sherry deplore their use. "The norms of
academic civility hamper readers from challenging the accuracy of the researcher's account; it would be rather difficult, for example, to criticize a law
review article by questioning the author's emotional stability or veracity." 79 Perhaps, a better practice would be to put the scholar's experience on the
table, along with other relevant material, but to subject that experience to the same level of scrutiny. If through the foregoing rhetorical strategies

CRATs succeeded in limiting academic debate, why do they not have greater influence on public policy?
Discouraging white legal scholars from entering the national conversation about race, 80 I suggest, has generated a kind of
cynicism in white audiences which, in turn, has had precisely the reverse effect of that ostensibly desired
by CRATs. It drives the American public to the right and ensures that anything CRT offers is

reflexively rejected. In the absence of scholarly work by white males in the area of race, of course, it is difficult to be sure what reasons they
would give for not having rallied behind CRT. Two things, however, are certain. First, the kinds of issues raised by Williams are too important in their
implications [*698] for American life to be confined to communities of color. If the lives of minorities are heavily constrained, if not fully defined, by the
thoughts and actions of the majority elements in society, it would seem to be of great importance that white thinkers and doers participate in open
discourse to bring about change. Second, given the lack of engagement of CRT by the community of legal scholars as a whole, the
discourse
that should be taking place at the highest scholarly levels has, by default, been displaced to faculty offices
and, more generally, the streets and the airwaves.

Airing out personal experience shuts down dialogue- it’s non-falsifiable

Subotnik 98 What’s Wrong with Critical Race Theory? Reopening the Case for Middle Class
Values, Dan Subotnik, Professor of Law, Touro College, 7 Cornell J. L and Pub. Pol'y. 683 (1998)
http://digitalcommons.tourolaw.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1186&context=scholarlyworks
Having traced a major strand in the development of CRT, we turn now to the strands' effect on the relationships of CRATs with each
other and with outsiders. As the foregoing material suggests, the central CRT message is not simply that minorities are being treated
unfairly, or even that individuals out there are in pain - assertions for which there are data to serve as grist for the academic mill -
but that the minority scholar himself or herself hurts and hurts badly.¶ An important problem that concerns the very definition of
the scholarly enterprise now comes into focus. What can an academic trained to [*694] question and to doubt
n72 possibly say to Patricia Williams when effectively she announces, "I hurt bad"? n73 "No, you don't hurt"? "You
shouldn't hurt"? "Other people hurt too"? Or, most dangerously - and perhaps most tellingly - "What do you expect when
you keep shooting yourself in the foot?" If the majority were perceived as having the well- being of minority groups in mind, these
responses might be acceptable, even welcomed. And they might lead to real conversation. But, writes Williams, the failure by those
"cushioned within the invisible privileges of race and power... to incorporate a sense of precarious connection as a part of our lives
is... ultimately obliterating." n74¶ "Precarious." "Obliterating." These words will clearly invite responses only from fools and
sociopaths; they will, byeffectively precluding objection, disconcert and disunite others. "I hurt," in
academic discourse, has three broad though interrelated effects. First, it demands priority from the reader's
conscience. It is for this reason that law review editors, waiving usual standards, have privileged a long trail of undisciplined -
even silly n75 - destructive and, above all, self-destructive articles. n76 Second, by emphasizing the emotional bond between those
who hurt in a similar way, "I hurt" discourages fellow sufferers from abstracting themselves from their pain in order to gain
perspective on their condition. n77¶ [*696] Last, as we have seen, it precludes the possibility of open and
structured conversation with others. n78 [*697] It is because of this conversation-stopping effect
of what they insensitively call "first-person agony stories" that Farber and Sherry deplore their use. "The
norms of academic civility hamper readers from challenging the accuracy of the researcher's
account; it would be rather difficult, for example, to criticize a law review article by questioning the author's emotional stability or
veracity." n79 Perhaps, a better practice would be to put the scholar's experience on the table, along with other relevant material,
but to subject that experience to the same level of scrutiny. ¶ If through the foregoing rhetorical strategies CRATs
succeeded in limiting academic debate, why do they not have greater influence on public policy? Discouraging
white legal scholars from entering the national conversation about race, n80 I suggest, has generated a
kind of cynicism in white audiences which, in turn, has had precisely the reverse effect of that ostensibly desired by CRATs. It
drives the American public to the right and ensures that anything CRT offers is reflexively rejected.¶ In the absence of
scholarly work by white males in the area of race, of course, it is difficult to be sure what reasons they would give for not having
rallied behind CRT. Two things, however, are certain. First, the kinds of issues raised by Williams are too important in their
implications [*698] for American life to be confined to communities of color. If the lives of minorities are heavily constrained, if not
fully defined, by the thoughts and actions of the majority elements in society, it
would seem to be of great
importance that white thinkers and doers participate in open discourse to bring about change.
Second, given the lack of engagement of CRT by the community of legal scholars as a whole, the discourse that should be taking
place at the highest scholarly levels has, by default, been displaced to faculty offices and, more generally, the streets and the
airwaves.

Scripts of anti-blackness are not pre-determined

Gordon, PhD, Professor of Philosophy and Africana Studies, with affiliations in Judaic Studies
and Caribbean, Latino/a, and Latin American Studies, University of Connecticut at Storrs, Visiting
Europhilosophy Professor at Toulouse University, France, and Nelson Mandela Visiting Professor
in Political and International Studies at Rhodes University, ‘17 (Lewis R., “Phenomenology and
Race,” in The Oxford Handbook of Philosophy and Race, ed. Naomi Zach, Oxford University Press,
pg. 295-298)
That antiblack racism is a form of mauvaise foi raises some pressing questions. Is it the same as all other forms of racism? Blackness
functions, after all, in peculiar ways in societies that have produced antiblack racism. A response to the # BlackLivesMatter
movement, for instance, is often that all lives matter. That is true the extent to which each group lives under conditions of equal
respect for life. What
advocates of #BlackI,ivesMatler are doing is responding to a world in which
some lives matter a lot more than others, whose lives evidentially matter a lot less. The history of antiblack
racism amounts to the conviction that black people are only valuable the extent to which there
is use for their labor or, worse, profiting from their misfortune, as we see with the heavily
racialized prison industrial complexes in the United States and similar countries (Davis 2006; Alexander 2012;
Schenwar 2014). It collapses into the expectation of justified existence in a context in which the justification for whoever stands as
most valued is intrinsic. Members of the dominant group could thus seek their justification—if they wish—personally, through
mechanisms of love, professional recognition, athletic achievement, and so on. Moreover, that such society renders some groups as
positive and others as negative leads to notions of legitimate presence (illegitimate absence) and absence (illegitimate presence).
Should the analysis remain at white and black, the world would appear more closed than it in
fact is. For one, simply being born black would bar the possibility of any legitimate appearance.
This is a position that has been taken by a growing group of theorists known as "Afro-
pessimists" (Wilderson 2010; Sexton 2011). Black for them is absolute "social death." It is outside of relations.
Missing from this view, however, is at least what I argued in Bad Faith and Antiblack Racism,
which is that no human being is "really" any of these things; the claim itself is a manifestation
of mauvaise foi. The project of making people into such is one thing. People actually becoming
such is another. This is an observation Fanon also makes in his formulation of the zone of
nonbeing and his critique of Self-Other discourses in Peau noir, masques blancs (Black Skin, White Masks). Fanon distinguishes
between the zone of nonbeing (nonappearance as human beings) and those of being. The latter presumes a self-justified reality,
which means it does not call itself into question. The former faces the problem of illegitimate appearance (Fanon 1952, chapter 5;
Gordon 1999; Alcoff 2006; Yancy 2008). Thus, even the effort "to be" is in conflict as the system in question presumes legitimate
absence of certain groups. Yet, paradoxically, the human being comes to the fore through emerging/ram being in the first place,
thus, the assertion of being is also an effort to push the human being out of existence, so to speak. The racial conflict is thus changed
to an existential one in which an existential ontology is posed against an ontology of being. Existential ontology pertains to human
being, whereas ontological being pertains to gods. This is why Fanon concludes that racism is also an attack against human being, as
it creates a world in which one set stands above others as gods and the rest as below human. Where, in this formulation, stand
human beings? The argument itself gains some clarity with the etymology of "existence" which is from the Latin expression ex
sistere (to stand out, to emerge—that is, to appear). Blacks thus face the paradox of existing (standing out) as nonexistence (not
standing out). The system of racism renders black appearance illicit. This conundrum of racialized existence affects
ethics and morals. Ethical relations are premised on selves relating to another or others. The others
must, however, appear as such, and they, too, manifest themselves as selves. Implicit in such others as other selves is
the formalization of ethical relations as equal, as found in the thought of Immanuel Kant and shifted in deference to
the other in that of Emmanuel Levinas. Racism, however, excludes certain groups from being others and
selves (if interpreted as being of a kind similar to the presumed legitimate selves). Thus, the schema of racism is one
in which the hegemonic group relates to its members as selves and others, whereas the nonhegemonic
groups are neither selves nor others. They, in effect, could only be such in relation to each other. It is, in other words, a
form of ontological segregation as a condition of ethics and morals. The fight against racism, then, does not
work as a fight against being others or The Other. It is a fight against being nonothers. Fanons insight demands an
additional clarification. Racists should be distinguished from racism. Racists are people who hold beliefs about the
superiority and inferiority of certain groups of racially designated people. Racism is the system of institutions and
social norms that empower individuals with such beliefs. Without that system, a racist would
simply be an obnoxious, whether overtly deprecating or patronizing, individual. With that system,
racist points of view affect the social world as reality. Without that system, racists ultimately become inconsequential and, in a word,
irrelevant beyond personal concerns of saving their souls from unethical and immoral beliefs and choices. Fanon
was
concerned with racists in his capacity as a psychiatrist (therapy, if necessary), but he was also
concerned with racism as a philosopher, social thinker, and revolutionary (Fanon 1959/1975). The
latter, in other words, is a system, from an antiracism perspective, in need of eradication. An
objection to the Afro-pessimistic assertion of blackness as social death could thus be raised
from a Fanonian phenomenological perspective: Why must the social world be premised on the
attitudes and perspectives of antiblack racists? Why don't blacks among each other and other communities of color
count as a social perspective? And if the question of racism is a function of power, why not offer a study
of power, how it is gained and lost, instead of an assertion of its manifestations as
ontological? An additional problem with the Afro-pessimistic model is that its proponents treat
"blackness" as though it could exist independent of other categories. A quick examination of
double consciousness Du Bois 1903—a phenomenological concept if there ever were one by virtue of the focus on
forms of consciousness and, better, that of which one is conscious, that is, intentionality would reveal why this
would not work. Double consciousness involves seeing oneself from the perspective of another
that deems one as negative (for example, the Afro-pessimistic conception of blackness). That there is
already another perspective makes the subject who lives through double consciousness
relational. Added is what Paget Henry {2005) calls potentiated double consciousness and Nahum
Chandler (2014, 60-61) calls the redoubled gesture, which is the realization that the condemnation of negative
meaning means that one must not do what the Afro-pessimist does. Seeing that that position is
false moves one dialectically forward into asking about the system that attempts to force one
into such an identity. This relational matter requires looking beyond blackness ironically in
order to understand blackness. This means moving from the conception of meaning as singular,
substance-based, fixed, and semantical into the grammar of how meaning is produced. Such
grammars, such as that of gender, emerge in interesting ways (Gordon 1999. 124-129; 1997.73-74).
However, as all human beings are manifestations of different dimensions of meaning, the question
of identity requires more than an intersecting model; otherwise there will simply be one (a
priori) normative outcome in every moment of inquiry: whoever manifests the maximum
manifestation of predetermined negative intersecting terms. That would in effect be an essence
before an existence—indeed, before an actual event of harm. This observation emerges as well with the
Afro-pessimist model when one thinks of pessimism as the guiding attitude. The existential
phenomenological critique would be that optimism and pessimism are symptomatic of the same
attitude: a priori assertions on reality. Human existence is contingent but not accidental, which
means that the social world at hand is a manifestation of choices and relationships—in other
words, human actions. Because human beings can only build the future instead of it
determining us, the task at hand, as phenomenology-oriented existentialists from Beauvoir and
Sartre to Fanon, William R. Jones, and this author have argued, depends on commitment. His
concern also pertains to the initial concerns about authenticity discourses with which I began .
One could only be pessimistic about an outcome, an activity. It is an act of forecasting what could
only be meaningful once actually performed. Similarly, one could only be optimistic about the
same. What, however, if there were no way to know either? Here we come to the foi element in
mauvaise foi. Some actions are deontological, and if not that, they are at least reflections of our
commitments, our projects. Thus, the point of some actions is not about their success or failure
but whether we deem them worth doing. Taking responsibility for such actions—bringing value to them
—is opposed to another manifestation of mauvaise foi: the spirit of seriousness.

Learning to seize power through debating institutional dynamics is a more

effective political strategy than the AFF’s analysis---the aff cannot create a new
political organization that becomes powerful. Empirics prove black radical
organizing is effective when it targets governments strategically and
pragmatically.
Lester Spence 15. Lester K. Spence is an Associate Professor of Political Science and Africana
studies at Johns Hopkins University known for his academic critiques of neoliberalism and his
media commentary on race, urban politics, and police violence. 2015. “Knocking the Hustle:
Against the Neoliberal Turn in Black Politics.” pp. 140-147.

All four examples have a few things in common. First all occurred at a moment where all seemed
lost. While I wouldn’t go as far as to suggest that these events suggest that neoliberalism is “naturally” contested—just as there is
no “good teaching gene” there is no “contest neoliberalism gene”—I would say that while the neoliberal turn has
signifcantly altered our ability to argue for public goods, it hasn’t killed that ability. It still exists. It
exists in institutions we have written of thinking they are no longer relevant—like teachers unions. It
exists in populations we’ve written of because we believe they are incapable of radical political
action— black youth. It exists in cities that we don’t think of as having a long history of radical
political struggle —like Jackson, Mississippi. Second all three recognized the fundamental role
politics played in their struggles. The black youth organizers recognized that they had to pressure
Maryland state legislators to kill the prison. The black radicals in the Malcolm X Grassroots
Movement made electing Chokwe Lumumba a component of their organizing. The CTU chose to
take the city head on and to hold a series of town hall meetings designed to inform people of
the ways political officials, philanthropists, and corporations are working together to
neoliberalize and kill public education. The #blacklivesmatter movement recognized that politics
was at the center of their struggle in Ferguson, Baltimore, and elsewhere. All campaigns used moral
language in making their arguments. In Jackson they argued that the current way power was allocated in Jackson was immoral
because it largely concentrated all of the benefits into a few (predominantly white) hands. In Baltimore they argued that putting
$104 million to the goal of incarcerating youth was immoral given the lack of money being spent on youth in other areas, and later
that Freddie Gray’s (and before him Tyrone West’s) murder was immoral. In Chicago they argued that closing 50 schools was
immoral because it severely impacted the ability of poor black parents and black students to get the same degree of learning their
white counterparts had. However, they
didn’t rely on those arguments. They understood that seizing
power (rather than speaking truth to it), that proposing new alternatives, would at some level
have to involve political struggle. Morality wasn’t enough. Even if we had a common defnition of morality, a Christian-
infuenced morality for example, that sense of morality could still be interpreted in diferent ways based on material interest.
Relying on morality can make it hard to move against the wealthy charter school proponent who
sincerely believes that privatizing public schools represent the best hope for increasing positive outcomes
among black children. Relying on morality can make it very difficult to argue against the political bureaucrat who says — as they did
in the case of Baltimore —that the conditions of youth currently held in adult prisons is so bad that the moral choice would be to
give them their own facility where they won’t have to face the risks associated with being housed with adults. In
deciding how
we go about making our arguments and how we go about choosing our strategies and tactics we
should act morally—I do believe our politics have to be rooted in a certain sense of ethics. We should never,
however, ignore the fundamental role politics plays and should play in our struggle. Not only did they
focus on politics, they all relied on political organizing. Organizing that included long discussions about
political issues that mattered, but also parties and other events designed to get people working
with each other and trusting one another. In general, people do not come to a common
understanding of the structural dynamics of the problem they face, and to a common
understanding of what the solution should be, through being exposed to a charismatic speaker, or
through “loving black people”, without having the space to talk about the issues in depth over a long
period of time. The CTU organized for several years to be able to get a 90% vote. The infrastructure black youth in Baltimore
relied upon was by definition designed to inculcate critical thinking skills as well as a sense of the way racism worked at structuring
black life chances. The Malcolm X Grassroots Movement worked for years to build the critical capacity required to elect Chokwe, first
to the City Council, then Mayor, and to put the political platform into action. There is no way to get around the fact that the type of
work we have to do to rebuild a sense of the public interest is going to take a long time and has to start by building connections
between people who may not think of themselves as political, who may not think of the various issues they struggle with as being
the product of the neoliberal turn, who may not know what neoliberalism is. What I am referring to here is not the same as getting
people to attend a rally or a march. I’m
referring to political organizing— building the capacity of people to
govern and make important political decisions for themselves —not political “mobilizing”.
Mobilizing people for a protest act of one kind or another may get people out to engage in a
specific act, but unless combined with organizing work, will not cause those people to organize
for themselves. Tird in each case they were not only reactive, they were not only being critical of the turn and its efects, they
proposed a positive alternative. Protest is not enough. Just as the neoliberal turn did not simply occur
when the welfare state was removed, rather it occurred when the welfare state was removed
and then replaced with a new program, we will not be able to build a sustainable constituency
for a new world without articulating as clearly as possible what that new world will look like, what
type of policies would result, what the benefits of those policies would be.

Institutional engagement critical to untangle structural domain of power that

reproduces the exclusion of black people ---creates meaningful state reforms
and empirics prove its effective
Patricia Hill Collins 09. Distinguished University Professor of Sociology at the University of
Maryland, College Park. “Black Feminist Thought: Knowledge, Consciousness and the Politics of
Empowerment.” page 277-280, https://uniteyouthdublin.files.wordpress.com/2015/01/black-
feminist-though-by-patricia-hill-collins.pdf

The structural domain of power encompasses how social institutions are organized to
reproduce Black women’s subordination over time. One characteristic feature of this domain is its emphasis on
large-scale, interlocking social institutions. An impressive array of U.S. social institutions lies at the heart of the structural domain of
power. Historically, in the United States, the policies and procedures of the U.S. legal system, labor markets, schools, the housing
industry, banking, insurance, the news media, and other social institutions as interdependent entities have worked to disadvantage
African-American women. For example, Black
women’s long-standing exclusion from the best jobs, schools,
health care, and housing illustrates the broad array of social policies designed to exclude Black
women from full citizenship rights. These interlocking social institutions have relied on multiple
forms of segregation—by race, class, and gender—to produce these unjust results. For AfricanAmerican women,
racial segregation has been paramount. Racial segregation rested on the “separate but equal” doctrine established under the 1896
ruling of Plessy v. Ferguson where the Supreme Court upheld the constitutionality of segregation of groups. This ruling paved the
way for a rhetoric of color-blindness (Crenshaw 1997). Under the “separate but equal” doctrine, Blacks and Whites as groups could
be segregated as long as the law was color-blind in affording each group equal treatment. Despite the supposed formal equality
promised by “separate but equal,” subsequent treatment certainly was separate, but it was anything but equal. As a result,
policies and procedures with housing, education, industry, government, the media, and other
major social institutions have worked together to exclude Black women from exercising full citizenship
rights. Whether this social exclusion has taken the form of relegating Black women to inner-city
neighborhoods poorly served by social services, to poorly funded and racially segregated public schools,
or to a narrow cluster of jobs in the labor market, the intent was to exclude . Within the structural
domain of power, empowerment cannot accrue to individuals and groups without transforming
U.S. social institutions that foster this exclusion. Because this domain is large-scale,
systemwide, and has operated over a long period of time via interconnected social institutions,
segregation of this magnitude cannot be changed overnight. Structural forms of injustice that
permeate the entire society yield only grudgingly to change. Since they do so in part when confronted with
wide-scale social movements, wars, and revolutions that threaten the social order overall, African-American women’s
rights have not been gained solely by gradual reformism. A civil war preceded the abolition of slavery when all
efforts to negotiate a settlement failed. Southern states routinely ignored the citizenship rights of Blacks, and even when confronted
with the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education Supreme Court decision that outlawed racial segregation, many dug in their heels and
refused to uphold the law. Massive demonstrations, media exposure, and federal troops all were deployed to implement this
fundamental policy change. The reemergence of White supremacist organizations in the 1990s, many of which recirculate troubling
racist ideologies of prior eras, speaks to the deep-seated resentment attached to Black women, among others, working toward a
more just U.S. society. Events such as these indicate how deeply woven into the very fabric of American society ideas about Black
women’s subordination appear to be. In the United States, visiblesocial protest of this magnitude, while often
required to bring about change, remains more the exception than the rule. For U.S. Black women, social
change has more often been gradual and reformist, punctuated by episodes of systemwide upheaval. Trying to change the
policies and procedures themselves, typically through social reforms, constitutes an important cluster of
strategies within the structural domain. Because the U.S. context contains a commitment to
reformist change by changing the laws, Black women have used the legal system in their
struggles for structural transformation. African-American women have aimed to challenge the
laws that legitimate racial segregation. As Chapter 9’s discussion of Black women’s activism suggests, African-
American women have used various strategies to get laws changed. Grassroots organizations,
forming national advocacy organizations, and event-specific social protest such as boycotts and sit-ins
have all been used, yet changing the laws and the terms of their implementation have formed
the focus of change. Even the development of parallel social institutions such as Black churches and
schools have aimed to prepare African-Americans for full participation in U.S. society when the
laws were changed. African-American women have experienced considerable success not only
in getting laws changed, but in stimulating government action to redress past wrongs. The
Voting Rights Act of 1964, the Civil Rights Act of 1965, and other important federal, state, and local
legislation have outlawed discrimination by race, sex, national origin, age, or disability status.
This changed legal climate granted African-American women some protection from the
widespread discrimination that we faced in the past. At the same time, class-action lawsuits
against discriminatory housing, educational, and employment policies have resulted in tangible
benefits for many Black women. While necessary, these legal victories may not be enough. Ironically, the
same laws designed to protect African-American women from social exclusion have increasingly become used against Black women.
In describing new models for equal treatment under the law, Black feminist legal scholar Kimberle Crenshaw argues that the rhetoric
of color-blindness was not unseated by the 1954 Brown v. Board of Education ruling. Instead, the rhetoric of color-blindness was
reformulated to refer to the equal treatment of individuals by not discriminating among them. Under this new rhetoric of color-
blindness, equality meant treating all individuals the same, regardless of differences they brought with them due to the effects of
past discrimination or even discrimination in other venues. “Having determined, then, that everyone was equal in the sense that
everyone had a skin color,” observes Crenshaw, “symmetrical treatment was satisfied by a general rule that nobody’s skin color
should be taken into account in governmental decision-making” (Crenshaw 1997, 284). Within this logic, the path to equality lies in
ignoring race, gender, and other markers of historical discrimination that might account for any differences that individuals bring to
schools and the workplace. As a new rule that maintains long-standing hierarchies of race, class, and gender while appearing to
provide equal treatment, this rhetoric of color-blindness has had some noteworthy effects. For one, observes Black feminist legal
scholar Patricia Williams (1995), it fosters a certain kind of race thinking among Whites: Because the legal system has now formally
equalized individual access to housing, schooling, and jobs, any unequal group results, such as those that characterize gaps between
Blacks and Whites, must somehow lie within the individuals themselves or their culture. When joined to its twin of gender
neutrality, one claiming that no significant differences distinguish men from women, the rhetoric of color-blindness works to unseat
one important strategy of Black women’s resistance within the structural domain. Black women who make claims of discrimination
and who demand that policies and procedures may not be as fair as they seem can more easily be dismissed as complainers who
want special, unearned favors. Moreover, within a rhetoric of color-blindness that defends the theme of no inherent differences
among races, or of gender-neutrality that claims no differences among genders, it becomes difficult to talk of racial and gender
differences that stem from discriminatory treatment. The
assumption is that the U.S. matrix of domination now
provides equal treatment because where it once overtly discriminated by race and gender, it
now seemingly ignores them. Beliefs such as these thus allow Whites and men to support a host
of punitive policies that reinscribe social heirarchies of race and gender . In her discussion of how racism
now relies on encoded language Angela Davis identifies how this rhetoric of color-blindness can operate as a form of “camouflaged
racism”: Because race is ostracized from some of the most impassioned political debates of this period,
their racialized character becomes increasingly difficult to identify, especially by those who are unable—or
do not want— to decipher the encoded language. This means that hidden racist arguments can be mobilized readily across racial
boundaries and political alignments. Political positions once easily defined as conservative, liberal, and sometimes even radical
therefore have a tendency to lose their dis tinctiveness in the face of the seductions of this camouflaged racism (Davis 1997, 264).
Americans can talk of “street crime” and “welfare mothers,” all the while claiming that they are not discussing race at all. Despite
the new challenges raised by the rhetoric of color-blindness and gender neutrality, it is
important to remember that legal strategies have yielded and most probably will continue to
produce victories for African-American women. Historically, much of Black women’s resistance to
the policies and procedures of the structural domain of power occurred outside powerful social
institutions. Currently, however, African-American women are more often included in these same
social institutions that long excluded us. Increasing numbers of African-American women have
gained access to higher education, now hold good jobs, and might be considered middle-class if
not elite. These women often occupy positions of authority inside schools, corporations, and
government agencies. Achieving these results required changing U.S. laws.

Their theory of power is from a resistance paradigm which exaggerates the

impact of the individual and ideas and underestimates the complexity and
importance of state power---this causes the ALT to pick the wrong goals and get
coopted.
Asef Bayat 13. Sociology Prof @ University of Illinois. 2013. “Life As Politics: How Ordinary
People Change the Middle East.” pp. 41-45.

The dearth of conventional collective action— in par tic u lar, contentious protests among the subaltern groups (the
poor, peasants, and women) in the developing countries, together with a disillusionment with dominant socialist parties, pushed
many radical observers to “discover” and highlight different types of activism, however small- scale, local, or
even individualistic. Such a quest, meanwhile, both contributed to and benefi ted from the upsurge of theoretical perspectives,
during the 1980s, associated with poststructuralism that made micropolitics and “everyday resistance” a
popular idea. James Scott’s departure, during the 1980s, from a structuralist position in studying the behavior of the peasantry in
Asia to a more ethnographic method of focusing on individual reactions of peasants contributed considerably to this paradigm
shift .27 In the meantime, Foucault’s “decentered” notion of power, together with a revival of neo- Gramscian politics of culture
(hegemony), served as a key theoretical backing for micropolitics, and thus the “re sis tance” perspective. The notion of “re sis
tance” came to stress that power and counterpower were not in binary opposition, but in a decoupled, complex, ambivalent, and
perpetual “dance of control.”28 It based itself on the Foucauldian idea that “wherever there is power there is re sis tance,” although
the latter consisted largely of small- scale, everyday, tiny activities that the agents could aff ord to articulate given their po liti cal
constraints. Such a perception of re sis tance penetrated not only peasant studies, but a variety of fi elds, including labor studies,
identity politics, ethnicity, women’s studies, education, and studies of the urban subaltern. Thus, multiple researchers discussed how
relating stories about miracles “gives voice to pop u lar re sis tance”29; how disenfranchised women resisted patriarchy by relating
folktales and songs or by pretending to be possessed or crazy;30 how reviving extended family among the urban pop u lar classes
represented an “avenue of po liti cal participation.”31 The relationships between the Filipino bar girls and western men were
discussed not simply in terms of total domination, but in a complex and contingent fashion;32 and the veiling of the Muslim working
woman has been represented not in simple terms of submission, but in ambivalent terms of protest and co- optation— hence, an
“accommodating protest.”33 Indeed, on occasions, both veiling and unveiling were simultaneously considered as a symbol of re sis
tance. Undoubtedly, such an attempt to grant agency to the subjects that until then were depicted as “passive poor,” “submissive
women,” “apo liti cal peasant,” and “oppressed worker” was a positive development. The re sis tance paradigm helps to uncover the
complexity of power relations in society in general, and the politics of the subaltern in par tic u lar. It tells us that we may not expect
a universalized form of struggle; that totalizing pictures oft en distort variations in people’s perceptions about change; that local
should be recognized as a signifi cant site of struggle as well as a unit of analysis; that or ga nized collective action may not be
possible everywhere, and thus alternative forms of struggles must be discovered and acknowledged; that or ganized protest as such
may not necessarily be privileged in the situations where suppression rules. The value of a more fl exible, small- scale, and
unbureaucratic activism should, therefore, be acknowledged.34 These are some of the issues that critiques of poststructuralist
advocates of “re sis tance” ignore.35 Yet a number of conceptual and political problems also emerge from
this paradigm. The immediate trouble is how to conceptualize re sis tance, and its relation to power, domination, and
submission. James Scott seems to be clear about what he means by the term: Class re sis tance includes any act(s) by member(s) of a
subordinate class that is or are intended either to mitigate or deny claims (for example, rents, taxes, prestige) made on that class by
superordinate classes (for example, landlords, large farmers, the state) or to advance its own claims (for example, work, land,
charity, respect) vis-à- vis these superordinate classes.36 [emphasis added] However, thephrase “any act” blocks
delineating between qualitatively diverse forms of activities that Scott lists. Are we not to
distinguish between large- scale collective action and individual acts, say, of tax dodging? Do
reciting poetry in private, however subversive- sounding, and engaging in armed struggle have identical
value? Should we not expect unequal aff ectivity and implications from such diff erent acts? Scott was aware of this, and so agreed
with those who had made distinctions between diff erent types of resistance— for example, “real re sis tance” refers to “or ga nized,
systematic, pre- planned or selfl ess practices with revolutionary consequences,” and “token re sis tance” points to unor ga nized
incidental acts without any revolutionary consequences, and which are accommodated in the power structure.37 Yet he insisted
that the “token re sis tance” is no less real than the “real re sis tance.” Scott’s followers, however, continued to make further
distinctions. Nathan Brown, in studying peasant politics in Egypt, for instance, identifi es three forms of politics: atomistic (politics of
individuals and small groups with obscure content), communal (a group eff ort to disrupt the system, by slowing down production
and the like), and revolt ( just short of revolution to negate the system).38 Beyond this, many resistance writers tend to
confuse an awareness about oppression with acts of resistance against it. The fact that poor women
sing songs about their plight or ridicule men in their private gatherings indicates their understanding of gender dynamics. This
does not mean, however, that they are involved in acts of resistance; neither are the miracle stories
of the poor urbanites who imagine the saints to come and punish the strong. Such an
understanding of “resistance” fails to capture the extremely complex interplay of conflict and
consent, and ideas and action, operating within systems of power. Indeed, the link between
consciousness and action remains a major sociological dilemma.39 Scott makes it clear that re sis tance is an
intentional act. In Weberian tradition, he takes the meaning of action as a crucial element. This intentionality, while signifi cant in
itself, obviously leaves out many types of individual and collective practices whose intended and unintended consequences do not
correspond. In Cairo or Tehran, for example, many poor families illegally tap into electricity and running water from the municipality
despite their awareness of their behavior’s illegality. Yet they do not steal urban ser vices in order to express their defi ance vis-à- vis
the authorities. Rather, they do it because they feel the necessity of those ser vices for a decent life, because they fi nd no other way
to acquire them. But these very mundane acts when continued lead to signifi cant changes in the urban structure, in social policy,
and in the actors’ own lives. Hence, the signifi cance of the unintended consequences of agents’ daily activities. In fact, many authors
in the re sis tance paradigm have simply abandoned intent and meaning, focusing instead eclectically on both intended and
unintended practices as manifestations of “re sis tance.” There is still a further question. Does re sis tance mean defending an
already achieved gain (in Scott’s terms, denying claims made by dominant groups over the subordinate ones) or making fresh
demands (to “advance its own claims”), what I like to call “encroachment”? In much of the re sis tance literature, this distinction is
missing. Although one might imagine moments of overlap, the two strategies, however, lead to diff erent po liti cal consequences;
this is so in par tic u lar when we view them in relation to the strategies of dominant power. The issue was so crucial that Lenin
devoted his entire What Is to Be Done? to discussing the implications of these two strategies, albeit in diff erent terms of
“economism/trade unionism” vs. “social demo cratic/party politics.” What ever one may think about a Leninist/vanguardist
paradigm, it was one that corresponded to a par tic u lar theory of the state and power (a capitalist state to be seized by a mass
movement led by the working- class party); in addition, it was clear where this strategy wanted to take the working class (to
establish a socialist state). Now, what
is the perception of the state in the “resistance” paradigm? What
is the strategic aim in this perspective? Where does the resistance paradigm want to take its
agents/subjects, beyond “prevent[ing] the worst and promis[ing] something better”?40 Much of
the literature of re sis tance is based upon a notion of power that Foucault has articulated, that power is everywhere, that it
“circulates” and is never “localized here and there, never in anybody’s hands.” 41 Such a formulation is surely instructive in
transcending the myth of the powerlessness of the ordinary and in recognizing their agency. Yet this
“decentered” notion
of power, shared by many poststructuralist “re sis tance” writers, underestimates state power, notably its class
dimension, since it fails to see that although power circulates, it does so unevenly— in some places it is
far weightier, more concentrated, and “thicker,” so to speak, than in others. In other words, like it or not, the
state does matter, and one needs to take that into account when discussing the potential of urban
subaltern activism. Although Foucault insists that re sis tance is real when it occurs outside of and in de pen dent of the
systems of power, the perception of power that informs the “resistance” literature leaves little room
for an analysis of the state as a system of power. It is, therefore, not accidental that a theory of the
state and, therefore, an analysis of the possibility of cooptation, are absent in almost all accounts of
“resistance.” Consequently, the cherished acts of resistance float around aimlessly in an unknown,
uncertain, and ambivalent universe of power relations, with the end result an unsettled, tense
accommodation with the existing power arrangement. Lack of a clear concept of resistance,
moreover, often leads writers in this genre to overestimate and read too much into the acts of the
agents. The result is that almost any act of the subjects potentially becomes one of “resistance.”
Determined to discover the “inevitable” acts of resistance, many poststructuralist writers often
come to “replace their subject.”42 While they attempt to challenge the essentialism of such perspectives as “passive
poor,” “submissive Muslim women,” and “inactive masses,” they tend, however, to fall into the trap of essentialism in reverse— by
reading too much into ordinary behaviors, interpreting them as necessarily conscious or contentious acts of defi ance. This is so
because they overlook the crucial fact that these practices occur mostly within the prevailing systems of power. For example, some
of the lower class’s activities in the Middle East that some authors read as “re sis tance,” “intimate politics” of defi ance, or “avenues
of participation” may actually contribute to the stability and legitimacy of the state.43 The fact that people are able to help
themselves and extend their networks surely shows their daily activism and struggles. However ,
by doing so the actors
may hardly win any space from the state (or other sources of power, like capital and patriarchy)
— they are not necessarily challenging domination. In fact, governments often encourage self-
help and local initiatives so long as they do not turn oppositional. They do so in order to shift some of their burdens of
social welfare provision and responsibilities onto the individual citizens. The proliferation of many NGOs in the global South is a good
indicator of this. In short, much of the re sis tance literature confuses what one might consider coping strategies (when
the survival of the agents is secured at the cost of themselves or that of fellow humans) and effective participation or
subversion of domination. There is a last question. If the poor are always able to resist in many ways (by
discourse or actions, individual or collective, overt or covert) the systems of domination, then what is the need to
assist them? If they are already po litically able citizens, why should we expect the state or any other agency to empower them?
Misreading the behavior of the poor may, in fact, frustrate our moral responsibility toward the
vulnerable. As Michael Brown rightly notes, when you “elevate the small injuries of childhood to the same moral status as
suffering of truly oppressed,” you are committing “a savage leveling that diminishes rather than intensifies
our sensitivities to injustice.” 44