Save for Dr. McCloskey’s talk, I cannot recall an optimistic
take on “what we unfortunately call Capiltalism.” I cannot recall when or even how, but throughout
our readings this the semester I’ve come to personify Capital (perhaps in close
association with the capitalist) as the ever-present villain in a long
narrative.
Of course, I can sympathize with this notion in so far as
exploitation has been part of the equation.
For years I was a factory worker well familiar with the assembly line—better
known as “the line” (pronounced with
dreadful tones, as in a place no employee wanted to be assigned for the day). Indeed, at times I felt proud to hold my own
against those ladies with so-called “nimble-fingers”. Still, I cannot recall fleeing the factory workforce because
I realized the exploitation of labor-power-value. (The assembly line has a way of conveying life
as both static and in constant flux.
Till this day, I find running on the treadmill to be as comforting as paradoxically dreadful).
So, I ponder, are we reading Capital as the villain? Though we don’t necessarily acknowledge it
(perhaps we don’t need to), I feel this to be the general consensus. I am reminded of a recent discussion of Othello in class where a brave student
went against the grain by questioning: “is Iago really a villain, the villain?
Is he not simply there to expose the savageness within Othello?” As fond as I was at this student’s
interrogation of the text—Othello’s racial complex is mostly internalized, so
why should Iago be condemned for being a catalyst?—I don’t know that my views of
the play stretch as far as to acquit “honest Iago”.
There is a point here: Iago’s numerous motives/reasons for hating
the Moor, no matter how richly performed, do more to cancel each other out than
they provide an explanation for his constant instigation. Whether motivated or motiveless, his deeds don’t
make him more or less a villain, nor will they satisfy our judgments. But if Iago produces so much suffering for
the sake of producing it, how do we treat Capital’s constant flow? Is Capital the “bad guy” here whose “evil”
doings know no bounds or is devoid of a guilty conscious for its mode of production?
Hardt’s and Negri’s discussion of Capital (and the struggle
over Common Wealth) further illustrate the complexity of the villainous
Capital, especially in the context Bio-politics. If, as Hardt and Negri point out, capital can
be said to include labor and social life itself, especially when life is “both
what is put to work in biopolitical production and what is produced” (142), how
is Capital at fault for what we are so willingly (if wittingly) to produce? As Hardt and Negri further suggest, we are
best to understand production not so much in terms of the producing subject and
the produced object, but rather both producer and product as subjects. On the other hand, Hardt and Negri point to
biopolitical labor-power as “becoming more and more autonomous, with capital
simply hovering over it parasitically with its disciplinary regimes,
apparatuses of capture, mechanisms of expropriation, financial networks, and
the like” (142). Were it not for the increasingly
autonomous biopower, this so-called parasitical aspect of Capital projects a villainous entity whose mere presence
threatens.