Dead Man Working by Carl Cederstrom & Peter Fleming

Author:Carl Cederstrom & Peter Fleming
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781780991573
Publisher: John Hunt Publishing

What Foucault was unable to foresee, however, was the reappearance of this authority figure in the garb of a freewheeling liberal (perhaps wearing an ecological caftan). It is not a stern authoritarian that now listens with an expression of deep moralising worry, but a sincerely understanding and permissive manager. The punitive boss who orders us about no longer has much purchase in the postmodern workplace. Rather, we find the manager taking great pains to ask us ‘how we feel’, and ‘how we would like to interpret the situation’. We might even be encouraged to ‘go crazy’, which isn’t surprising given how our idiosyncrasies and transgressive naughtiness are desired by ‘liberation management’. As Žižek remarks, ‘I become useless for them [the corporation] the moment I start losing this “imp of perversity”, the moment I lose my “countercultural” subversive edge and start to behave like a “normal” mature subject’. One is tempted here to suggest that Freud’s superego, traditionally known for its sadistic ways – something like a revengeful priest with a stick – is dead and buried, replaced by a peace-loving hippie on pot, for whom everything goes.

But this redrafting of the superego – like the postmodern manager who also thinks work sucks and rejoices in moments of authenticity – harbours its own brand of sadism. Jacques Lacan demonstrates this by revealing how permissiveness has an obscene underside. Commenting on Dostoevsky’s famous line that ‘if God doesn’t exist … then everything is permitted’, Lacan retorts: ‘Quite evidently, a naïve notion, for we analysts know full well that if God doesn’t exist, then nothing at all is permitted any longer.’ Contrary to its overt message, the hippie superego (represented here by our pot-smoking, work-hating postmodern manager) isn’t marking the end of prohibition. We still have to follow its command. But now we have to enjoy it too. The command to enjoy, of course, has nothing to do with enjoyment. Sadism comes into the picture precisely because the superego knows very well that this injunction is a cruel joke. As any child who has been ordered by grown ups to enjoy a game knows: the very positioning of the activity within a command structure ruins everything. The gift of freedom, Lacan concluded, swiftly becomes a gift of shit.

Back one last time to Humping Hank and the Wild Horse Adult Resort & Spa. Night has now fallen over the Nevada desert, and Hank and his prostitute girlfriend, Veronica, talk about their long evening together. ‘Did I make you forget where you were?’, Hank asks smilingly, as he affectionately squeezes her hand. Veronica smiles and nods nervously. She’s speechless. She tries her best to explain that the whole thing is professional, a business transaction. But as Hank throws a sad eye, she loses the thread and gives up. If anyone knows the terror of the hippie superego, the inconvenience of being herself, it is Veronica.

Far from the Nevada desert, in the trendiest parts of East London we find another example of the unexpected terror inside the authentic workplace.

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