Let’s begin with the flyleaf
from a fictive schoolboy’s geography textbook:
Stephen Dedalus
Class of Elements
Clongowes Wood College
Sallins
County Kildare
Ireland
Europe
The World
The Universe
Class of Elements
Clongowes Wood College
Sallins
County Kildare
Ireland
Europe
The World
The Universe
Joyce offers us a spatial
imaginary constituted by nested scales. If Stephen’s namesake, the old
artificer, built wings to enable him to jump scales and fly from Crete to the
world, Joyce’s Dedalus scales up as if ascending a ladder. Some rungs appear to
have been knocked out (e.g., Ireland is not nested in the British Empire but
jumps into Europe), but the ladder remains largely intact. One effect of this
imaginative nesting of spatial scales is a multiform localization that
diminishes as one scales up: personal names give way to institutional names
give way to proper names give way to common names. Each named scale corresponds
to a distinct social and institutional form. These nested forms conduct
Stephen’s imagination; they mediate his relationship to the world, generating
relations of responsibility, of debt, of guilt. Portrait of the Artist is, in many ways, a novel about unlearning this
imaginary of nested scales. Thus we find Stephen, at the end of his Bildung, declaring, “When the soul of a man is born in this
country there are nets flung at it to hold it back from flight.” His solution
to this ensnaring is Daedalian: “I shall try to fly by those nets.” Nets, or
nests, those nested scales he had described as a schoolboy? Our young man will
jump scales, leaping from Dublin to Europe, to what passed as “the world.”
Biographical diachrony encourages us to see this movement as freeing; with
Stephen, we shout, “Welcome, O life!” But what if we read these two relations
to space—the schoolboy’s nested scales and the university’s scholar’s scale
jumping—synchronically? What might we gain from thinking together, in a single
moment of social time, the schoolchild’s and the university student’s spatial
imagination? We would gain insight, I think, into how the spatial imaginary
promoted by today’s neoliberal university promotes an irresponsible relation to
the spaces in which the university is in fact embedded.
Where, for example, is the
University of Pennsylvania? The postal address of the English Department shows
the scales in which the university is nested. Abstracting from this address, we
get a sequence of scales that mirrors the spatial imaginary of young Stephen:
Christopher Taylor
Department of English
University of Pennsylvania
Philadelphia
Pennsylvania
United States of America
Every job application I sent
off involved me, in some manner, reinscribing the university—and myself—within
these nested scales. To get to me, letters need to move through the U.S.,
Pennsylvania, and Philadelphia; each scalar mediation localizes me, places me
within that space. Yet, this postal perception of space is discontinuous with
the modalities by which the university produces lived and imagined relations to
space. We might locate Penn, in a formal cartographic sense, within
Philadelphia or even Pennsylvania; institutionally, however, Penn has been
disembedding itself from the pesky scales that get between it and the world.
Like the university student Stephen, Penn tries scale jumping, “fly[ing] by”
Philadelphia in order to directly access the world.
How does it attempt flying
by Philly? On one hand, the university has committed itself to a process of
hyperlocalization—it is committed to becoming an autonomous locale. This
happens through naming (“University City”), through property ownership (Penn is
only growing), and through providing quasi-public “services” (a private police
force). It happens through differentially treating residents of “University
City”: when the racist curfew laws were passed, incoming Penn students who
arrived during the summer who were under 18 were ensured that they would not be
targets of enforcement. We see, then, the emergence of a kind of University
Citizenship, one that interacts unevenly with the bundle of rights and
expectations accorded to everyone in public space. Jurisdictions are becoming
mixed, rules are unevenly enforced, and the protocols of enforcement are not
formal and abstract but stick to particularized bodies. Neoliberal
universities’ privatization of governance results in the neofeudalization of
the city.
On the other hand, this
process of hyperlocalization has its dialectical counterpart in processes of
scalar separation. There is quite literally a western boundary to University
City: if you cross 50th Street, you won’t see any more Penn
security, nor will the university provide incentives to employees to get them
to buy houses. If you cross 50th Street, you’ll be in Philadelphia.
Moreover—and this is the thing motivating my critique right now, and which will
bring us back to the schoolchild—Penn doesn’t pay taxes, nor does it any longer
pay a “voluntary contribution” in the form of PILOT (payment in lieu of taxes)
contributions to Philadelphia. In effect, Penn is so institutionally and
imaginatively separated from Philadelphia that it can choose the precise
modality of its interaction with the city and its inhabitants. It can
voluntarily give a paltry sum to the city coffers, it can voluntarily build a
charter school in West Philly, it can voluntarily criminalize black youth in
the neighborhood—or it can choose not to participate in Philadelphia life.
Meanwhile, city residents living in University City have no meaningful way of
shaping the decisions that Penn makes with regards to their neighborhoods or
Philadelphia more broadly. They’re decision-takers.
Democracy begins with the
co-recognition of one’s heteronomous co-belonging in a given space. It emerges
out of a condition of fundamental non-choice, out of the simple fact that one
is there-with. With a deliberative democrat at the helm, Penn has undertaken
ludicrously anti-democratic policies—policies that rethink the “there” of Penn
in order to hide from view the non-Penn people whom it is constitutively
“with.” This capacity to dissolve the ties of withness, to absolve oneself from
responsibility to one’s given locale, is a mark of neofeudal sovereignty. Penn
is flying by Philadelphia, leaping into the areality of global capital. There’s
no democracy there. And it is this undemocratic disposition that our neoliberal
universities are instilling in our students. Our students fly by nested localities;
they jump from the university to the world. As I said in a Daily
Pennsylvanian interview last fall,
it is unsurprising that so few Penn students participated in Occupy Philly—they
don’t live in Philly, they live at Penn.
Occupying Penn would entail
making Penn institutionally occupy Philly. To do so, we might adopt the
perspective of nested scales delineated by Stephen—not Stephen, the
cosmopolitan university student, but Stephen the schoolboy. We’ve read our
Massey and our Sassen; we know that global capital has scrambled scales and
that nested imaginaries never made much sense, anyhow. But this schoolchild’s
epistemology of space can provide the basis for the polemical demand that Penn
recognize itself as a co-sharer in the city, and act accordingly. And it’s the
Philadelphia schoolchild who might stand to benefit, most of all, from such
recognition. The school district of Philadelphia is about to undergo another
round of neoliberalization and restructuring—66 schools to be closed by 2017,
the wholesale layoff of service union employees, and so on. This is being
passed off as a fiscal necessity. As Daniel Denvir has written, the budgetary crisis could be resolved (thereby
removing justification for the move to restructure and privatize) if Penn could
be made to pay. Penn’s anti-democratic decision to fly by Philadelphia is
helping to perpetuate a social logic in which the urban poor will never have access
to the cosmopolitan university culture—a culture that currently teaches
students, first and foremost, to unlearn social responsibilities that inhere to
the simple fact of being-there-with. The commodity of social-spatial
irresponsibility is expensive. Against the sophisticated analytics that posit
scrambled scales and that provide an alibi for local indifference, we might
discover a politics of spatial re-embedding in the seemingly naïve spatial
ladder of the schoolchild. We might craft nets to catch neoliberal institutions
as they try flying by us into the non-world of capitalism.
Christopher Taylor
Department of English
University of Pennsylvania
Philadelphia
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