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Berardi-WorkDesireandDepression2.pdf

Cultural Studies Review volume 11 number 2 September 2005

http://epress.lib.uts.edu.au/journals/index.php/csrj/index pp. 57–63

 Franco Berardi 2005    

ISSN 1837-8692

What does Cognitariat Mean?

Work, Desire and Depression

FRANCO BERARDI (BIFO)

  In   order   to   understand   the   meaning   of   the   notions   of   cognitive   labour   and   cognitariat,   it   is   necessary  to  analyse  not  only  the  transformations  that  have  taken  place  in  the  work  process  but   also  what  is  happening  in  the  psychic  and  desiring  dimension  of  post-­‐industrial  society.  What  is  at   stake  in  the  social  definition  of  cognitive  labour  is  the  body,  sexuality,  perishable  physicality  and   the  unconscious.  Cognitariat   is  the  social  corporeality  of  cognitive  labour.  In  his  most  celebrated   book   Cyberculture,   Pierre   Lévy   proposes   the   notion   of   collective   intelligence.1   But   the   social   existence  of  cognitive  workers  cannot  be  reduced  to  intelligence:  in  their  existential  concreteness,   the   cognitarians   are   also   body,   in   other   words   nerves   that   stiffen   in   the   constant   strain   of   attention,   eyes   that   get   tired   staring   at   a   screen.   Collective   intelligence   neither   reduces   nor   resolves  the  social  existence  of  the  bodies  that  produce  this  intelligence,  the  concrete  bodies  of  the   male  and  female  cognitarians.  

—DIGITAL LABOUR AND ABSTRACTION

What  does  it  mean  to  work  today?  Work  is  tending  to  assume  a  uniform  physical  character:  we  sit   down  in  front  of  a  screen,  move  our  fingers  on  the  keyboard  and  type.  But  at  the  same  time,  work   is   a   lot   more   diversified   in   the   contents   it   elaborates.   The   architect,   the   travel   agent,   the  

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programmer  and  the  lawyer  carry  out  the  same  physical  gestures,  but  could  never  exchange  jobs   because   each  of   them  performs   a   specific,   local   task,   one   that   is   not   communicable   to   someone   who  has  not  followed  their  particular  educational  cursus  or  to  someone  who  is  not  familiar  with   that  complex  content  of  knowledges.  

Mechanical  industrial  labour  was  characterised  by  the  traits  of  substantial  interchangeability   and  depersonalisation  and  as  a  consequence  was  perceived  as  something  extraneous,  a  task  that   was  performed  solely  because  one  received  a  salary  in  exchange.  Dependent  salaried  work  was  a   pure  service  of  time.  

Digital  technologies  open  up  an  entirely  new  vista  for  work.  In  the  first  place,  they  modify  the   relationship   between   conception   and   execution,   then   the   relationship   between   the   intellectual   content  of  work  and  its  manual  execution.  Manual  labour  tends  to  be  carried  out  by  automatically   controlled  machine-­‐assemblages,  while   the   innovative   labour   that   produces   the   greater   part   of   value   is   to   be   found   in   cognitive   labour.   The  material   to   be   transformed   is   simulated  by  digital   sequences.  The  content  of   labour  becomes  mental,  but  at   the  same  time  the   limits  of  productive   work   become   uncertain.   The   very   notion   of   productivity   becomes   imprecise:   the   relationship   between  time  and  the  quantity  of  value  produced  becomes  difficult  to  stabilise,  because  not  all  the   hours  of  a  cognitive  labourer  are  equal  in  terms  of  productivity.  

The  Marxian   notion   of   abstract   labour   needs   to   be   redefined.  What   does   ‘abstract   labour’   mean   in   the   language   of   Marx?   It   signifies   an   extortion   of   time,   without   regard   for   its   quality,   without   relation   to   the   specific   and   concrete   utility   of   the   objects   it   creates.   Industrial   labour   tended  towards  abstraction  because  its  concrete  utility  was  entirely  irrelevant  with  respect  to  its   function  of  economic  valorisation.  

Can  we  say  that  this  progressive  reduction  to  abstraction  continues  to  operate  in  the  era  of   infoproduction?  In  a  certain  sense  yes;  indeed,  in  a  certain  sense  we  can  say  that  this  tendency  is   amplified  to  the  highest  degree,  because  every  residue  of  materiality  and  concreteness  disappears   from   the   labouring   operation,   and   only   the   symbolic   abstractions   remain,   bits,   digits   and   differences  of  information,  on  which  productive  activity  acts.  We  can  say  that  the  digitalisation  of   the  work  process  has  made  all  kinds  of  work  equal  from  the  physical  and  ergonomic  point  of  view.   We  all  do  the  same  thing:  we  sit  down  in  front  of  a  screen  and  tap  on  the  keys  of  a  keyboard,  and   the  automatic  machines   transform  our  activity   into  a   television   script,   a   surgical  operation  or  a   car.   From   a   physical   point   of   view   there   is   no   difference   between   a   travel   agent,   a   machine   operator   in   the   petrochemical   sector,   or   a   detective   novelist,   when   they   are   carrying   out   their   work.  

Franco Berardi— What does Cognitariat Mean?   59

And  yet  at  the  same  time,  work  has  become  part  of  a  mental  process,  the  elaboration  of  signs   dense  with  knowledge.   It  has  become  a   lot  more  specific,  a   lot  more  specialised:   the   lawyer  and   the  architect,  the  IT  technician  and  the  supermarket  employee,  are  positioned  in  front  of  the  same   screen  and  tap  on  the  same  keys,  but  the  one  could  never  take  the  position  of  the  other  because   the  content  of  their  elaborative  activity  is  irreducibly  different  and  untranslatable.  

A   chemical   worker   and   a   metal   mechanics   worker   are   engaged   in   labour   that   is   totally   different   from   the   physical   point   of   view,   but   a   metal   mechanics   worker   can   acquire   the   operational   knowledge   for   performing   the   job   of   the   chemical   worker   in   a   few   days,   and   vice   versa.  The  more   industrial   labour   is  simplified,   the  more   interchangeable   it  becomes.   In   front  of   the   computer  and  connected   to   the   same  universal  machine  of   elaboration  and  communication,   human  terminals  all  carry  out  the  same  physical  movements,  but  the  simpler  their  work  becomes   from  the  physical  point  of  view,  the  less  interchangeable  become  their  bodies  of  knowledge,  their   capacities  and  their  services.  

Digitalised   labour  manipulates  absolutely  abstract   signs,  but   its   recombinant   functioning   is   all  the  more  specific,  all  the  more  personalised  and  therefore  less  and  less  interchangeable.  As  a   consequence,   high   tech   workers   tend   to   consider   their   work   as   the   most   important,   most   singularised  and  most  personalised  part  of  their  life—the  exact  opposite  of  the  industrial  worker’s   situation,  for  whom  the  eight  hours  of  salaried  service  were  a  sort  of  temporary  death  from  which   one  awoke  only  when  the  stop-­‐work  siren  went  off.  

—ENTERPRISE AND DESIRE

Only  if  we  take  this  into  account  can  we  explain  why,  over  the  last  two  decades,  disaffection  and   absenteeism  have   become   totally  marginal   phenomena,  whereas   they  were   endemic   in   the   late   industrial  period.  The  studies  carried  out  by  Juliet  Schorr  (The  Overworked  American)  show  that  in   the  1980s  (and  even  more  so  in  the  1990s)  the  average  working  time  increased  considerably.  On   average,   every  worker   in   the   USA   dedicated   148  more   hours   to   work   in   1996   than   his   or   her   colleague  in  1973.  The  percentage  of  people  who  work  more  than  49  hours  a  week  increased  from   13  per  cent  in  1976  to  almost  19  per  cent  in  1998  according  to  the  US  Bureau  of  Labour  Statistics.   As  for  managers,  the  percentage  went  up  from  40  to  45  per  cent.2  

How  can  the  conversion  of  workers  from  disaffection  to  adherence  be  explained?  Certainly  it   can   be   explained   by   the   political   defeat   that   the   working   class   suffered   after   the   end   of   the   seventies—a   consequence   of   technological   restructuring,   the   resulting   unemployment   and   the   violent   repression   of   working   class   avant-­‐gardes.   But   this   is   not   enough.   In   order   to   fully  

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understand   the   psychosocial   change   of   attitude   towards  work,   we   need   to   take   into   account   a   decisive  cultural  mutation  that  is  linked  with  the  displacement  of  the  social  centre  of  gravity  from   the  sphere  of  industrial  labour  to  the  sphere  of  cognitive  labour.  

Unlike  the  industrial  labourer,  the  cognitive  labourer  considers  work  as  the  most  important   part  of  his  or  her  life,  no  longer  opposes  the  lengthening  of  the  working  day,  and  indeed  tends  to   lengthen  work-­‐time   of   his   or   her   own   accord.   And   this   happens   for   diverse   reasons:   above   all,   over  the  last  decades  the  urban  social  community  has  become  progressively  less  interesting  and   has   been   reduced   to   a   dead  wrapping   of   relations  without   humanity   or   pleasure.   Sexuality   and   conviviality  have  been  progressively   transformed   into  standardised,   regulated  mechanisms,  and   the  singular  pleasure  of  the  body  has  been  progressively  replaced  by  the  anxiety-­‐ridden  need  for   identity.  As  Mike  Davies  shows  in  books  such  as  City  of  Quartz  and  Ecology  of  Fear,  the  quality  of   existence  has  deteriorated  from  the  affective  and  psychical  point  of  view  as  a  consequence  of  the   rarefaction  of  community  ties  and  their  security-­‐driven  sterilisation.3  

It  seems  that  in  human  relations,  in  daily  life,  in  affective  communication,  one  finds  less  and   less  pleasure  and  less  and  less  reassurance.  A  consequence  of  this  dis-­‐eroticisation  of  daily  life  is   the  investment  of  desire  in  work,  understood  as  the  sole  space  of  narcissistic  reaffirmation  for  an   individuality  used  to  seeing  the  other  according  to  the  rules  of  competition,  that  is,  as  a  danger,  an   impoverishment,  a  limitation,  rather  than  a  source  of  experience,  pleasure  and  enrichment.  

The  effect  that  has  taken  hold  of  daily  life  during  the  last  decades  is  that  of  a  generalised  de-­‐ solidarisation.  The  imperative  of  competition  has  become  dominant  in  work,  communication  and   culture,   through  a  systematic   transformation  of   the  other   into  a  competitor  and   thus  an  enemy.   The  principle  of  war  has  taken  the  commanding  position   in  social   life,   in  every   instance  of  daily   life   and   in   every   aspect   of   relationships.   What   is   also   decisive   is   the   drastic   worsening   of   the   conditions  of  social  protection  provoked  by  twenty  years  of  deregulation  and  dismantling  of  the   public  structures  of  assistance.  

The  more  time  we  dedicate  to  acquiring  the  means  of  consumption,  the  less  time  remains  for   us  to  enjoy  the  actual  world.  The  more  we  invest  our  nervous  energies  in  acquiring  the  power  to   acquire,   the   less   we   can   invest   them   in   enjoyment.   It   is   around   this   problem—completely   neglected  by  economic  discourse—that  the  question  of  happiness  and  unhappiness  is  played  out   in  hypercapitalist  society.  In  order  to  have  more  economic  power  (more  money,  more  credit),  we   need  to  dedicate  more  and  more  time  to  socially  ratified  work.  But  this  means  we  have  to  reduce   the  time  of  enjoyment  and  of  experience;  in  short,  we  have  to  reduce  life.  

Franco Berardi— What does Cognitariat Mean?   61

Wealth  defined  as  enjoyment  diminishes  in  proportion  to  the  increase  of  wealth  as  economic   accumulation,   for   the   simple   reason   that  mental   time   is   dedicated   to   accumulating   rather   than   enjoying.  Conversely  wealth  understood  as  economic  accumulation  increases  when  the  dispersed   pleasure  of  enjoyment  is  reduced.  And  the  two  possibilities  conspire  to  produce  the  same  effect:   the   expansion   of   the   economic   sphere   coincides   with   a   reduction   of   the   erotic   sphere.   When   things,   bodies   and   signs   enter   into   and  become  part   of   the   semiotic  model   of   the   economy,   the   experience   of   wealth   can   only   be   actualised   in   a   mediated,   reflexive,   deferred   way.  Wealth   no   longer  consists   in  the  enjoyment  of  the  time  of  things,  bodies  and  signs,  but  the  accelerated  and   expansive  production  of  their  lack,  transformed  into  an  exchange  value,  transformed  into  anxiety.   At  this  point  it  becomes  possible  to  understand  why  work  has  acquired  a  central  position  in  social   affectivity:  the  liberal  offensive  has  so  devastated  sociality  that  workers  are  obliged  to  accept  the   primordial  bribe—work  whenever  and  as  much  as  the  boss  wants  or  sink  into  poverty.  Moreover,   the   impoverishment   of   the   social   dimension   and   the   dis-­‐eroticisation   of   experience   have  made   daily   life   so   sad   that   work   ends   up   seeming   like   the   only   tolerable   condition.   We   reconcile   ourselves  with  work  because  economic  survival  is  becoming  more  difficult  and  metropolitan  life  is   becoming  so  sad  that  we  might  as  well  exchange  it  for  money.  

—PANIC-DEPRESSIVE SYNDROME AND COMPETITION

In  his  book  called  La  fatigue  d’être  soi   [The  Fatigue  of  Being  Oneself],  Alain  Ehrenberg  describes   depression   as   a   pathology   with   a   strong   social   content,   linked   in   particular   to   a   situation   characterised  by  competitiveness.   Depression  began  to  assert  itself  when  the  disciplinary  model  of  managing  behaviour,  the  rules  of   authority  and  the  respect  for  taboos  that  assigned  a  destiny  to  social  classes  and  sexes,  gave  way   to  norms  that  incite  everyone  to  individual  initiative,  exhorting  them  to  become  themselves.   Because  of  this  new  normativity,  the  entire  responsibility  for  our  lives  is  located  inside  each  of  us.   Depression  thus  presents  itself  as  a  sickness  of  responsibility  in  which  the  feeling  of  insufficiency   dominates.  The  depressive  is  not  up  to  the  mark,  is  tired  of  having  to  become  his  or  herself.4   Depression   is   intimately   linked   to   the   ideology   of   self-­‐fulfilment   and   the   happiness   imperative.   And   depression   is   also   a   way   of   identifying,   in   the   language   of   psychopathology,   a   kind   of   behaviour  that  wasn’t  clearly  identifiable  as  pathological  outside  of  the  competitive,  productivist   and  individualistic  context.  According  to  Ehrenberg:  

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Depression  enters  into  a  problematic  where  what  dominates  is  not  so  much  emotional  pain  as   inhibition,  slowing  down  and  asthenia:  the  ancient  sad  passion  is  transformed  into  an  obstacle  to   action  in  a  context  where  individual  initiative  becomes  the  measure  of  the  person.5   Competitiveness   involves  a  high-­‐risk  narcissistic   stimulation  because  naturally,   in  a  competitive   situation  (like  that  of  the  capitalist  economy  in  general,  but  in  a  particularly  accentuated  way,  like   that  of  the  new  economy),  the  contenders  are  many  and  the  elect  are  few,  while  the  social  norm   doesn’t  recognise  the  possibility  of  failure  since  this  is  identified  as  a  psychopathological  category.   There  is  no  competition  without  defeat,  without  failure,  but  the  social  norm  cannot  recognise  the   normality   of   failure  without   putting   into  doubt   its   ideological   foundations,  without   putting   into   doubt  its  economic  efficiency.  

The  use  of  psychostimulant  or  anti-­‐depressive   substances   is  naturally   the  other   face  of   the   new  economy.  How  many  workers  of  the  new  economy  survive  without  Prozac,  without  Zoloft  or   without   cocaine?   The   habituation   to   psychotropic   substances,   those   that   can   be   bought   in   a   pharmacy   and   those   that   can   be   bought   on   the   black   market,   is   a   structural   element   of   the   psychopathogenic  economy.  When  the  fundamental  psychological  imperative  of  social  interaction   is   that   of   economic   competition,   the   conditions   of   mass   depression   are   being   created.   This   is   effectively  what  is  happening  before  our  very  eyes.  

Social  psychologists  observe   that  panic  and  depression  have  become  endemic  over   the   last   few  decades.  Panic  is  a  syndrome  that  psychologists  know  little  about  because  it  seems  that  in  the   past  crises  of  this  sort  were  quite  rare.  The  panic  syndrome  has  only  recently  been  diagnosed  as  a   specific  phenomenon  and  it  is  with  great  difficulty  that  its  physical  and  psychic  causes  are  being   identified.   It   is  with  even  greater  difficulty   that  an  adequate   therapy   for   this   syndrome   is  being   identified.   I   don’t   claim   to   provide   an   explanation,   much   less   a   solution,   for   the   pathological   problem   represented   by   this   syndrome.   I   restrict   myself   to   a   few   reflections   on   what   panic   signifies.  Panic  is  the  feeling  we  experience  when,  confronted  with  the  infinity  of  nature,  we  feel   overwhelmed,  incapable  of  accepting  into  our  consciousness  the  infinite  array  of  stimuli  that  the   world  arouses  in  us.  The  etymology,   in  effect,  comes  from  the  Greek  word  signifying   ‘everything   that  exists’  (pan),  and  the  divinity  who  went  by  this  name  made  his  presence  felt  as  the  bearer  of  a   sublime   madness,   as   James   Hillman   writes   in   his   ‘Essay   on   Pan’.6   But   in   the   social   context   of   competitive  society,  where  all  energies  are  mobilised  towards  a  position  of  supremacy,  and  in  the   technological   context   of   constant   acceleration   of   the   rhythms   of   the   global   machine,   panic   becomes   a   social   effect   of   the   constant   expansion   of   cyberspace   with   respect   to   the   limited   performance  capacities  of  the  individual  brain  and  with  respect  to  cybertime.  

Franco Berardi— What does Cognitariat Mean?   63

The   infinite   vastness  of   the   infosphere   surpasses   the  performance   capacities   of   the  human   organism  as  much  as   sublime  nature   surpasses   the  Greek  man’s   capacities   for   feeling  when   the   god  Pan  appears  on  the  horizon.  The  infinite  speed  of  expansion  of  cyberspace,  the  infinite  speed   of  exposure  to  signals  that  the  organism  perceives  as  vital  to  survival,  subjects  it  to  a  perceptive,   cognitive   and   psychic   stress   that   culminates   in   a   dangerous   acceleration   of   all   vital   functions,   breathing  and  the  heart  beat,  to  the  point  of  collapse.  

Thus   what   is   at   stake   here   is   not   an   individual   psychopathology   but   the   individual   manifestation  of  a  widespread  social  psychopathology.  

—  

Translated  by  Melinda  Cooper.     Franco   Berardi   (Bifo)   is   a   philosopher   and   political   activist.   Co-­‐founder   of   Rekombinant   <www.rekomdinant.org>,  a  web  environment  of  informal  communication,  and  media  and  political   activism,  he  is  also  the  author  of  numerous  books.  His  most  recent  work,  Il  sapiente,  il  guerriero,  il   mercante,  is  currently  being  translated  into  English.  

                                                                                                                         

—NOTES 1  Pierre  Lévy,  Cyberculture,  trans.  Robert  Bononno,  University  of  Minnesota  Press,  Minneapolis,  2001.  

2  Juliet  Schor,  The  Overworked  American:  The  Unexpected  Decline  of  Leisure,  Basic  Books,  New  York,  1991.  

3  Mike  Davies,  City  of  Quartz:  Excavating  the  Future  in  Los  Angeles,  Verso,  London,  1990;  Ecology  of  Fear:  Los  Angeles  and  

the  Imagination  of  Disaster,  Metropolitan  Books,  New  York,  1998.  

4  Alain  Ehrenberg,  La  fatigue  d’être  soi,  Odile  Jacob,  Paris,  1998,  p.  10.  

5  Ehrenberg,  p.  18  

6  James  Hillman,  ‘An  Essay  on  Pan:  Serving  as  a  Psychological  Introduction  to  Roscher’s  Ephialtes’,  in  Wilhelm  Roscher,  

Pan  and  the  Nightmare,  Spring  Publications,  New  York,  1972.