Bruno Latour

Une envie de transmettre, d'expliquer. De s'expliquer aussi. Sur la cohérence d'une pensée que l'apparente dispersion et variété des sujets qu'il a abordés avait, en partie, masquée. Bruno Latour s'est livré à cette série d'entretiens avec une simplicité, une jubilation et une puissance qui n'adviennent que dans les moments où l'on sait que la vie, et notamment celle de l'esprit, se condense. Un apaisement lié au sentiment d'urgence, une immanence indissociable de l'imminence et de la nécessité à tout concentrer, résumer, déployer. Un souci de clarté, un plaisir de la conversation, un art de la performance. Comme si tout s'éclaircissait alors que la fin approchait"--Page 4 of cover.

Bruno Latour’s long term project is to compare the felicity and infelicity conditions of the different values dearest to the heart of those who have ‘never been modern’. According to him, this is the only way to develop an anthropology of the Moderns. After his work on science, on technology and, more recently, on law, this book explores the truth conditions of religious speech acts.Even though there is no question that religion is one of the values that has been intensely cherished in the course of history, it’s also clear that it has become immensely difficult to tune in to its highly specific mode of enunciation. Every effort to speak in the right key sounds awkward, reactionary, pious or simply empty. Hence the necessity of devising a way of writing that brings to the fore this elusive form of speech to render it audible again. In this highly original book, the author offers a completely different tack on the endless ‘science and religion’ conflict by protecting them both from the confusion with the notion of information. Like The Making of Law, this book is one more attempt at developing this ‘inquiry on modes of existence’ that provides an alternative definition of society. (Publisher's abstract)

James Lovelock n'a pas eu de chance avec l'hypothèse Gaïa. En nommant par ce vieux mythe grec le système fragile et complexe par lequel les phénomènes vivants modifient la Terre, on a cru qu'il parlait d'un organisme unique, d'un thermostat géant, voire d'une Providence divine. Rien n'était plus éloigné de sa tentative. Gaïa n'est pas le Globe, n'est pas la Terre-Mère, n'est pas une déesse païenne, mais elle n'est pas non plus la Nature, telle qu'on l'imagine depuis le XVIIe siècle, cette Nature qui sert de pendant à la subjectivité humaine. La Nature constituait l'arrière-plan de nos actions. Or, à cause des effets imprévus de l'histoire humaine, ce que nous regroupions sous le nom de Nature quitte l'arrière-plan et monte sur scène. L'air, les océans, les glaciers, le climat, les sols, tout ce que nous avons rendu instable, interagit avec nous. Nous sommes entrés dans la géohistoire. C'est l'époque de l'Anthropocène. Avec le risque d'une guerre de tous contre tous. L'ancienne Nature disparaît et laisse la place à un être dont il est difficile de prévoir les manifestations. Cet être, loin d'être stable et rassurant, semble constitué d'un ensemble de boucles de rétroactions en perpétuel bouleversement. Gaïa est le nom qui lui convient le mieux. En explorant les mille figures de Gaïa, on peut déplier tout ce que la notion de Nature avait confondu : une éthique, une politique, une étrange conception des sciences et, surtout, une économie et même une théologie.

The emergence of modern sciences in the seventeenth century profoundly renewed our understanding of Nature. For the last three centuries new ideas of Nature have been continuously developed by theology, politics, economics, and science, especially the sciences of the material world. The situation is even more unstable today, now that we have entered an ecological mutation of unprecedented scale. Some call it the Anthropocene, but it is best described as a new climatic regime. And a new regime it certainly is, since the many unexpected connections between human activity and the natural world oblige every one of us to reopen the earlier notions of Nature and redistribute what had been packed inside. So the question now arises: what will replace the old ways of looking at Nature? This book explores a potential candidate proposed by James Lovelock when he chose the name "Gaia" for the fragile, complex system through which living phenomena modify the Earth. The fact that he was immediately misunderstood proves simply that his readers have tried to fit this new notion into an older frame, transforming Gaia into a single organism, a kind of giant thermostat, some sort of New Age goddess, or even divine Providence. In this series of lectures on "natural religion", Bruno Latour argues that the complex and ambiguous figure of Gaia offers, on the contrary, an ideal way to disentangle the ethical, political, theological, and scientific aspects of the now obsolete notion of Nature. He lays the groundwork for a future collaboration among scientists, theologians, activists, and artists as they, and we, begin to adjust to the new climatic regime.

Comment combler le fossé apparemment infranchissable séparant la science (chargée de comprendre la nature) et la politique (chargée de régler la vie sociale), séparation dont les conséquences - affaires du sang, de l'amiante, de la vache folle... - deviennent de plus en plus catastrophiques? L'écologie politique a prétendu apporter une réponse à ce défi. Mais après de fracassants débuts, elle peine à renouveler la vie publique... Dans ce livre qui fait suite à Nous n'avons jamais été modernes (La Découverte, 1991), Bruno Latour propose une nouvelle façon de considérer l'écologie politique. La nature a toujours constitué l'une des deux moitiés de la vie publique, celle qui rassemble le monde commun que nous partageons tous, l'autre moitié formant ce qu'on appelle la politique, c'est-à-dire le jeu des intérêts et des passions. D'un côté ce qui nous unit, la nature, de l'autre ce qui nous divise, la politique. Et c'est pourquoi il est faux de prétendre que le souci de la nature caractériserait l'écologie politique : car à cause des controverses scientifiques qu'elle suscite, à cause de l'incertitude sur les valeurs qu'elle provoque, elle oblige à abandonner la nature comme mode d'organisation publique. La question devient donc : comment penser enfin la politique sans la nature? Pour Bruno Latour, la solution repose sur une profonde redéfinition à la fois de l'activité scientifique (à réintégrer dans le jeu normal de la société) et de l'activité politique (comprise comme l'élaboration progressive d'un monde commun). Ce sont les conditions et les contraintes de telles redéfinitions qu'il explore avec une grande rigueur dans cet ouvrage important. A la croisée de la philosophie des sciences et de la philosophie politique, ce livre s'adresse à ceux qui s'intéressent à l'écologie, aux controverses scientifiques, au rôle des experts dans les débats publics, et, plus généralement, à ceux qui estiment que la question de la démocratie doit s'étendre aux sciences elles-mêmes.

To become aware of the depth of the ecological mutation, one has to criticize the notion of abstract space. It turns out that, in many of his works, Carl Schmitt has found ways to politicize the production of neutral depoliticized space. This is especially true in “Dialogue on New Space.” The dialogue summarizes Schmitt’s earlier works, but it also tries to relate, audaciously, the character of being human with the different conceptions of space entertained by each protagonist of the dialogue. Especially important in the plot is the interpretation of the expression of “unencumbered technology” that Schmitt associates with the destiny of liberalism and the sort of spatial domination ad infinitum that it implies. The final point of the dialogue is that you cannot be really human in the wrong space. The article does not pretend to make Schmitt a thinker of ecology but to extract from his highly peculiar critique of space something that could be useful to help criticize a depoliticized notion of green space.

The introduction of the long-term history of the Earth into the preoccupations of historians has triggered a crisis because it has become impossible to keep the “planet” as one single entity outside of history properly understood. As soon as the planetary intruded into history, it became impossible to keep it as one naturalized background. By problematizing the planetary, Dipesh Chakrabarty has forced philosophers, historians and anthropologists to extend pluralism to the very ground on which history was supposed to unfold. Hence Bruno Latour’s attempt at counting the number of “planets” whose attractions are simultaneously being felt today on any political question. Each of his eight planets are defined by the disconnect between where they are situated and where they are imagined to be moving, which means that each planet is led by a different and incommensurable philosophy of history. Such a “fictional planetology” is then discussed by Chakrabarty, who reviews the difficulties historians have had in taking the nonhuman as a historical agent and then adds to Latour’s count a new planetary body which further complicates the geopolitical situation. The result of their joint effort is to shift questions of philosophy of history to philosophy of geography.

The development of science studies has an important message for political theory. This message has not yet been fully articulated. It seems that the science studies field is often considered as the extension of politics to science. In reality, case studies show that it is a redefinition of politics that we are witnessing in the laboratories. To the political representatives should be added the scientific representatives. Thanks to a book by Steven Shapin and Simon Schaffer, it is possible to reconstruct the origin of this divide between the two sets of representatives. A definition of modernism is offered. Then the article explains how to interpret the shift to "nonmodernism, " that is, a historical period when the two branches of politics get together again.

In this article, we present a few lessons we learnt in the establishment of the Sciences Po médialab. As an interdisciplinary laboratory associating social scientists, code developers and information designers, the médialab is not one of a kind. In the last years, several of such initiatives have been established around the world to harness the potential of digital technologies for the study of collective life. If we narrate this particular story, it is because, having lived it from the inside, we can provide an intimate account of the surprises and displacements of digital research. Founding the médialab in 2009, we knew that we were leaving the reassuring traditions of social sciences to venture in the unexplored territory of digital inscriptions. What we couldn't foresee was how much such encounter would change our research. Buying into gospel of Big Data, we imagined that the main novelty of digital research came from handling larger amounts of data. We soon realized that the interest of digital inscriptions comes instead from their proliferating diversity. Such diversity encouraged us to reshape our professional alliances, research practices and theoretical perspectives. It also led us to overcome several of the oppositions that used to characterize social sciences and to move in the direction of a more continuous sociology.

Nasz problem z budynkami to dokładne przeciwieństwo problemu, z którym zmagał się Etienne Jules Marey, przeprowadzając swoje słynne badanie fizjologii ruchu. Przy pomocy wynalezionego przez siebie „fotorewolweru” chciał on uchwycić lot mewy w taki sposób, żeby móc zobaczyć każdą stopklatkę płynnego ruchu, którego mechanizm wymykał się obserwatorom aż do momentu pojawienia się tego właśnie wynalazku. My potrzebujemy czegoś przeciwnego, problem z budynkami polega bowiem na tym, że wydają się one dramatycznie statyczne. Uchwycenie ich jako ruchu, lotu czy serii przemian wydaje się prawie niemożliwe. Wszyscy – zwłaszcza architekci – wiedzą, że budynek nie jest statycznym obiektem, ale raczej dynamicznym projektem. Nawet kiedy zostanie już wybudowany, każdy budynek zaczyna się starzeć, jest przekształcany przez użytkowników, a także modyfikowany przez wszystko, co wydarza się na zewnątrz i wewnątrz. Przeminie on lub zostanie odnowiony przy użyciu nowych materiałów, często zmieniony nie do poznania. Wiemy to wszystko, lecz problemem pozostaje to, że nie dysponujemy odpowiednikiem fotorewolweru Marey’a: kiedy myślimy o budynku, jest on zawsze nieruchomą, obojętną strukturą, przedstawianą w barwach procesowych2 na błyszczących stronach czasopism, przerzucanych przez klientów siedzących w poczekalniach biur projektowych. Skoro niemożność sfotografowania lotu mewy jako serii następujących po sobie stopklatek tak bardzo frustrowała Marey’a, jakże irytująca musi być dla nas niemożność zobrazowania płynności i ciągłego ruchu konstytuującego każdy budynek. W oparciu o dostępne mu dane wzrokowe Marey mógł ustalić fizjologię lotu dopiero po wynalezieniu sztucznego urządzenia. My również potrzebujemy narzędzia, abyśmy mogli przemienić statyczny obraz budynku w serię następujących po sobie stopklatek, które ostatecznie pokażą, że każdy budynek to tak naprawdę dynamiczny projekt.

Bruno Latour’s article challenges the preconceived notions with which the scholars have approached the Great Divide between prescientific and scientific cultures. In order to account for the immense eff ects of science and technology without assuming a single grand cause for them, he suggests to focus on many, small unexpected and practical sets of skills to produce images, and to read and write about them. However, only those changes that intervene favorably in the agonistic situation in science should be considered. Crucial in this respect is the emergence of numerous “immutable mobiles” – easily transported, accumulated, combined, yet lasting objects – which made possible the mobilization of new scientific inscriptions and of new ways of looking at and presenting them. They help to constitute an optically consistent visual culture with such technologies as printing press. Their combination on the surface of paper and subsequent mobilization of allies can usher in bureaucratic mode of domination over the world and people in the scientific field. The effects of science and technology thus become essentially a question of a shift in power relations enabled by the manipulation of inscriptions.

Latour in this essay criticizes and abandons the approach to science studies—in which the object of study is presumed to be inert and passively circulating amid networks of practices, institutions, authorities, and historical events — that he took in “The ‘Pédofil’ of Boa Vista,” an article published in the spring 1995 issue of Common Knowledge. Here he argues that Whitehead’s neglected text Process and Reality offers the possibility of a radical historical realism that puts the scientific object and the scientist’s laboratory on the same footing. His case study is of the Lille laboratory where, in 1858, Pasteur identified a yeast responsible for lactic fermentation. Even as Pasteur acted to cause the yeast to emerge, he felt—in a way that practicing scientists often attest—that he was “led” to do so by the propensity of things. Whitehead enables us to understand that it was not Pasteur alone who altered the representation of fermentation; the fermentation itself modified its manifestation. Hence there is historicity not only on the human side of scientific discovery—the story of Pasteur and his yeast—but also historicity on the nonhuman side—the story of the yeast and its Pasteur.

Including empirical examples and theoretical clarifications on many of the analytical issues raised in his recently published Down to Earth, this conversation with Bruno Latour and his collaborator, Danish sociologist Nikolaj Schultz, offers key insights into Latour’s recent and ongoing work. Revolving around questions on political ecology and social theory in our ‘New Climatic Regime’, Latour argues that in order to have politics you need a land and you need a people. This interview present reflections on such politics, such land and such people, and it ends with a call for a sociology that takes up the task of connecting the three by investigating what he and Schultz call ‘geo-social classes’. The interview was conducted by Jakob Stein in Paris in November 2018.

Dieser Text beschreibt die besondere Existenzweise und Operationalität des Rechts, das nicht von externen sozialen Faktoren determiniert wird, dessen Autonomie aber auch nicht die eines Subsystems ist. Was es in seiner absichtsvollen Oberflächlichkeit leisten kann, ist eine besondere Form der Verbindung: Seine Enunziationsform verknüpft alle Äußerungen und Handlungen so, dass sie eindeutig einem Sprechenden und Handelnden zugeordnet werden können: Dies ist der ununterbrochene Faden, mit dem es Menschen, Güter, Orte, Zeit, Beschlüsse etc. zusammenhält. The text describes the specific mode of existence and operation of Law, which is not determined by external social factors, nor is its autonomy that of a subsystem. Its deliberate super ciality achieves a particular form of cohesion: Its form of enunciation connects utterances and actions in such a way that they can be assigned unambiguously to a single speaker and actor. This is the undisrupted thread which binds men, goods, locations, time, resolutions, etc.

The French, it is well known, love revolutions, political, scientific or philosophical. There is nothing they like more than a radical upheaval of the past, an upheaval so complete that a new tabula rasa is levelled, on which a new history can be built. None of our Prime Ministers starts his mandate without promising to write on a new blank page or to furnish a complete change in values and even, for some, in life. Each researcher would think of him or herself as a failure, if he or she did not make such a complete change in the discipline that nothing will hereafter be the same. As to the philosophers they feed, from Descartes up to Foucault's days, on radical cuts, on ‘coupure épistémologique’, on complete subversion of everything which has been thought in the past by everybody. No French thinker, indeed no student of philosophy, would seriously contemplate doing anything short of a complete revolution in theories. To hesitate, to respect the past, would be to compromise, to be a funk, or worse, to be eclectic like a vulgar Anglo-Saxon!