In this book I illustrate a new way for academic disciplines to engage in the work of contributing to social change. It represents a shift in focus with regard to the status of empirical research, whereby the priority in data analysis is not the exploration of the complexity of a particular social problem or oppressive ideology, but rather the discovery of as-yet-unimagined new forms of social structure. The methodology I describe here is informed by two distinct approaches to social critique. On the one hand, it draws upon those strands of postmodern theory that critically interrogate the discursive constitution of the self. The analytic method, on the other hand, is informed by Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA). I will discuss each in turn.
1.1 A View from Above
A major theme in postmodern critique is the investigation of those âgrand narrativesâ (Lyotard 1984) that produce a hegemonic, totalising social world that erases any way of being that is not recognisable within the structure of the narrative. This erasure of difference is tyrannical but subtle; it is achieved less and less through fascist and dictatorial regimes and more and more through what Foucault calls âbiopowerâ. Biopower is a technique of contemporary, âdisciplinaryâ societies (Foucault 1991), whereby the individual self becomes the source of the âtruthâ of his/her identity and/or desires (Foucault 1990). Through subtle societal pressures, individuals self-regulate. They maintain the coherence of their identities, and in so doing, they participate in the reduction of all forms of difference to a universal sameness. Postmodern feminist and queer theory reveals the many ways in which this self-policing of identityâthis requirement to present an identity that is recognisable within a hegemonic structureâcontributes to the maintenance of oppressive regimes such as patriarchy and heteronormativity.
Postmodern theory that focuses on the discursive constitution of the self offers a valuable âview from aboveâ, enabling an understanding of how society is shaped without falling into the structuralist trap of objectivising structure; that is, of treating social structure as a preordained, cohesive and total system. Postmodern accounts of the social world underscore the oppressive, tyrannical mechanisms of the social structures they describe; they highlight their techniques for erasing difference. They also offer ways of understanding the contingency of their oppressive structures. For Foucault, contingency is an inherent component of his genealogical methodology. Change is implicit in his accounts because they are diachronic: the technique of biopower, for instance, is a contemporary phenomenon that emerged out of other techniques of power, and other structures. If the contingency of Foucaultâs work is rooted in its historicity, other postmodern social critics look to the future to imagine less oppressive regimes.
Consider first Judith Butler, whose work I will discuss in more depth in Chap. 2. Her work, in exposing the totalising effect of a heterosexual matrix that produces recognisable, normative gendered identities, also points forward to a way of imagining new structures, one that requires people to create âgender troubleâ and to live at the margins of recognisability. Luce Irigarayâs work, also to be discussed in Chap. 2, presents a critique of the patriarchal structures that erase sexual difference and in so doing lays the groundwork for imagining new structures that would enable and celebrate sexual difference.
1.2 Reimagining Social Structures
The type of social change research I advocate in this book requires researchers to reimagine social structuresâor more specifically, to imagine new social structures that do not contribute to the tyranny of grand narratives by requiring a universal sameness. Engagement with postmodern theory is invaluable to such a project. To âimagine new structuresâ requires a view from aboveâindeed, it requires researchers to imagine the structures as they already are (or at least, as they have been described by social theorists). Such âimaginedâ models become, as I will explain in Chap. 2, the starting points for visualising other shapes that the social world might assume. These theories offer a way of thinking in terms of structures and, most importantly, how these structures might be otherwise.
However, with my recognition that the âview from aboveâ provides a starting point for imagining new structures comes the acknowledgement that such a view provides little more than a starting point. The problem is that the onus for identifying pathways to social change is placed entirely upon the theorist who produces this âview from aboveâ. As I will demonstrate in Chap. 2 each theoristâs description of an oppressive social structure produces a different alternative structureâa different âsolutionâ to the âproblemâ of the social. To adopt any one theoristâs âsolutionâ, to accept their imagined new structure, itself would be to participate in a totalising act, erasing all other interpretations of how the social world is shaped, foreclosing possibilities for imagining other alternatives.
The type of research project I illustrate in this book offers a way of imagining myriad possibilities for social change. These possibilities emerge, I argue, from analyses of the grammatical structure of âeverydayâ participantsâ accounts of their social worlds. When informed by postmodern scholarship, the interpretation of everyday accounts of social worlds can give the researcher access to a multitude of alternative âshapesâ of the social. Research on social change becomes less about battling or correcting oppressive social structures and more about imagining new structures. This âimaginingâ is made possible not through engagement with theoretical perspectives alone, but rather through the synthesis of theoretical perspectives and the interpretation of empirical data.
1.3 A View from the Trenches
The empirical strand of the research project I am proposing here is informed by CDA, particularly what has been termed dialectical-relational CDA, as formulated by Fairclough (1992, 1995, 2001) and Chouliaraki and Fairclough (1999). Like postmodern social theory, CDA is committed to identifying forms of oppression and to promoting social change. The focus in CDA is less on identifying the totalising structures that erase difference and more on the ground-level struggles whereby these structures are resisted or maintained. If postmodern theory presents âa view from aboveâ, then what CDA offers might be called âa view from the trenchesâ.
I will discuss exactly which aspects of CDA I draw upon in more detail in Chap. 3, but it will be useful at this point to identify a tension that arises when CDA work draws upon themes from postmodern social theory. The priority in CDA to orient to social change requires a perspective in which individuals are empowered to work towards bringing about positive change. Fairclough summarises this position in relation to his âfaith in the capacity of human beings to change what human beings have createdâ (Fairclough 2001, p. 3). Such a perspective makes CDA incompatible with exactly those strands of postmodernism I believe to be necessary to a project of imagining alternative social structures. These are, specifically, those theories that view the individual as entirely constituted by social structure (or, to use Foucaultâs term, by discourse). It would seem that if CDA is to maintain its commitment to change through human agency, it must reject strands of postmodern thought that understand âdiscourseâ to encompass all aspects of the social. This commitment to human agency results in a critical realist stance in CDA, which asserts a distinction between the material and the discursive worlds. Individuals are theorised as mediators of these distinct worlds: they negotiate discourses to effect both material and discursive change.
The practice theory model is well suited to such a stance, as Chouliaraki and Fairclough (1999) point out in their review of the theoretical perspectives that best inform CDA. From a practice-theoretical perspective (see, e.g. Giddens 1979), the individual is viewed as a social actor who draws upon discourses in order to act in the social world. Practice theory moves away from the structuralist and postmodern emphases on how society is constituted in favour of a focus on how society is reproduced, resisted and transformed through social practice. Although Chouliaraki and Faircloughâs (1999) review includes a range of postmodern perspectives that they claim are well suited to a CDA agenda, their prioritisation of social practice means that certain incompatibilities with postmodern theory will remain. Most importantly, CDA will remain resistant to any postmodern claim that there is no âescapeâ from discourse, any suggestion that individuals who are constituted by discursive structures cannot operate separately from these discourses. From a CDA position, a commitment to social change is contingent upon a view of the individual as capable of bringing about that change. Indeed, one component of the CDA agenda is consciousness raising, such that individuals become more empowered to effect change in their worlds.
To return to my âview from the trenchesâ metaphor: aligning to a CDA agenda requires imagining the social world as only and always oppressive. Note that âempowermentâ is conceived of at the level of the individual, and such a conception, perhaps inadvertently, places the burden of responsibility on the individual to effect change. Despite the good intentions of practice-oriented CDA, such a perspective seems to me to be remarkably disempowering, because it does not allow ways of imagining non-oppressive social structures.
1.4 âHarsh Realityâ: The Problem of Practice
To illustrate this point, I will draw upon one of my own experiences as a lecturer in a university classroom. Several years ago in one of my seminar groups, I invited students to give oral presentations about the independent research projects they were conducting around the theme of language and community. One particular upcoming presentation, in which a student named âAndrewâ was due to speak, made me nervous. Though I myself was appreciative of Andrewâs thoughtful contributions to seminar discussions and enjoyed having him in class, I had noticed thinly veiled hostility towards Andrew from some other students. I assumed it was because he did not conform to the unwritten rules of appropriate identity displays. His style of dress did not match that of most of the other students. His disability required him sometimes to walk with a crutch. And though I did not know it at the time, he was female-to-male transgender (his name was âAnnaâ then). None of his clothing was feminine, his voice was deep and he spoke with more authority than most of the women in the class.
When Andrew began his presentation I found myself uneasily gauging the response of the other students in attendance. Andrew was talking, in an authoritative and passionate way, about a community in which he was a participant observerâa local cosplay group. Cosplay, a blend of âcostumeâ and âplayâ, is an internationally practised role-playing game in which players develop elaborate personas and costumes based on established fictional characters from various media (novels, anima, magna, computer games, films, etc.). This was a very different type of community from what most of the other students had chosenâhousemate groups, sports teams, the drama club, families and reality television. Would the other students antagonise Andrew? Would they be overly critical?
Looking back, what surprises me most about my anxiety that day was my feeling that Andrewâs behaviour was risky. His decision to share his love for cosplay, his clothing, the way he carried himself, his readiness to bring up in class discussion topics like gender fluidityâall of these were risks. My knee-jerk reaction was to wish that Andrew would behave differentlyâat least in this less-than-supportive context. I did not want him to conform to the norms, but I thought it would be safer for him if he at least made it clear that he recognised these norms existed. Andrew did not strike me as someone who would be comfortable if people challenged him directly, and I wanted him to keep himself protected from unnecessary confrontation.
Upon reflection, I find it a strange response to that situation, or at least it is one that I would like to make strange now. I wanted Andrew to be protected, and the most effective way I could think of for him to get protection was for him to act differently. It did not occur to me at the time to ask what it was about this particular classroom setting that made his presence so risky. It did not occur to me to even imagine what it would look like if this seminar and these students were mutually supportive and celebratory of each othersâ uniqueness, their âothernessâ. Fairclough defines ideologies as ââcommon-senseâ assumptions which are implicit in the conventions according to which people interact [...] of which people are generally not consciously awareâ (2001, p. 2). I was operating under the common-sense assumption that it is a âharsh realityâ that any manifestation of âothernessâ is likely to threaten peopleâthat they will resist it (at best) or attempt to extinguish it (at worst).
As it turned out, Andrew did meet with antagonism from o...