David A. Wills

Ecology is a question because the human is a technological animal, because the human relation to nature is technological; ecology thus concerns the originary technicity of the human. In developing that thesis against the background of the work of Simondon, this article argues that the analysis of technicity developed in _On the Mode of Existence of Technical Objects_ is fundamental to _Individuation in Light of Notions of Form and Information_, preventing the latter work from falling back into the anthropomorphism it seeks to avoid. In Simondon's terms, the technical object would function as a type of internal resonance throughout _Individuation_, a metastability that phase-shifts the concept with respect to itself. Read through this lens, his ideas shed a different light on what transpires between human and environment, and his generalizable "transduction" destabilizes even as it undergirds his schema of individuation.

Killing Times begins with the deceptively simple observation—made by Jacques Derrida in his seminars on the topic—that the death penalty mechanically interrupts mortal time by preempting the typical mortal experience of not knowing at what precise moment we will die. Through a broader examination of what constitutes mortal temporality, David Wills proposes that the so-called machinery of death summoned by the death penalty works by exploiting, or perverting, the machinery of time that is already attached to human existence. Time, Wills argues, functions for us in general as a prosthetic technology, but the application of the death penalty represents a new level of prosthetic intervention into what constitutes the human. Killing Times traces the logic of the death penalty across a range of sites. Starting with the legal cases whereby American courts have struggled to articulate what methods of execution constitute “cruel and unusual punishment,” Wills goes on to show the ways that technologies of death have themselves evolved in conjunction with ideas of cruelty and instantaneity, from the development of the guillotine and the trap door for hanging, through the firing squad and the electric chair, through today’s controversies surrounding lethal injection. Responding to the legal system’s repeated recourse to storytelling—prosecutors’ and politicians’ endless recounting of the horrors of crimes—Wills gives a careful eye to the narrative, even fictive spaces that surround crime and punishment. Many of the controversies surrounding capital punishment, Wills argues, revolve around the complex temporality of the death penalty: how its instant works in conjunction with forms of suspension, or extension of time; how its seeming correlation between egregious crime and painless execution is complicated by a number of different discourses. By pinpointing the temporal technology that marks the death penalty, Wills is able to show capital punishment’s expansive reach, tracing the ways it has come to govern not only executions within the judicial system, but also the opposed but linked categories of the suicide bombing and drone warfare. In discussing the temporal technology of death, Wills elaborates the workings both of the terrorist who produces a simultaneity of crime and “punishment” that bypasses judicial process, and of the security state, in whose remote-control killings the time-space coordinates of “justice” are compressed and at the same time disappear into the black hole of secrecy. Grounded in a deep ethical and political commitment to death penalty abolition, Wills’s engaging and powerfully argued book pushes the question of capital punishment beyond the confines of legal argument to show how the technology of capital punishment defines and appropriates the instant of death and reconfigures the whole of human mortality.

As will be argued in what follows, the central question of the death penalty is the question of time. That question begins, in the present case, with the time of a writing that attempts to address what we call current events, particularly an academic writing—as distinct, for example, from journalistic writing—whose rhythms of composition and publication obey particular protocols and render problematic the specifics of what we call political intervention, the relevance or efficacy of which is normally determined by a certain “punctuality.” Hence Zola’s “J’accuse,” a paradigm within the genre of public intellectual intervention, published in L’Aurore on 13 January 1898. I do not know how to resolve the tension ..

‘Postcardlogbook’ is the “travel diary” of a rereading of Derrida's ‘Envois’ more than thirty years after its publication. It was penned during and after a period of research into the 1974–75 ‘La vie la mort’ seminar, undertaken at the University of California, Irvine, and mimics Derrida's own transatlantic voyages that provided the context for his text. My article borrows a series of formal devices that attempt to maintain it as a peripheral reading of the ‘Envois’. Notably, it refrains from quoting directly from the text or from entering into its substance. It nevertheless addresses, however indirectly, the intellectual climate in Paris at the time the ‘Envois’ were written, and draws comparisons with the current scene, with the current status of Derrida's work, and with problems of a more or less post-literary age.

The notion of a ‘machinery of death’ not only underwrites abolitionist discourse but also informs what Derrida's Death Penalty refers to as an anesthesial drive that can be traced back at least as far as Guillotin. I read it here as a symptom of a more complex relation to the technological that functions across the line dividing life from death, and which is concentrated in the question of the instant that capital punishment requires. Further indications of such a relation include the forms of automatic machinism that regulate, on one hand, the generalisable certainty that death occurs, and on the other, the discursive contagion that the death penalty generates. But it can be analysed most productively in the way in which the putative instantaneity of an execution reveals how life is severed from, but also perhaps tethered to death by means of a machinery of time; how that machinery of time ‘abandons’ its indifference in order to decide the moment of death by execution, and at the same time, by contriving an instant at which death takes over from life, produces the uncanny result of having life and death meet on the same knife-edge.

Matchbook consists of nine essays written around, or in response to, work published by Jacques Derrida since 1980. The focal point of the essays is the “Envois,” which forms part of Derrida’s Post Card. Particular attention is paid to how that text articulates with the ethical and political emphases of Derrida’s more recent work, but also to its autobiographical conceit. The “incendiary” reference of the book’s title underscores deconstruction’s engagement with questions of reading: relations between (slow) reading and the speed of technology, and the political effects of an internationalized deconstruction in a globalized culture. It is in terms of what deconstruction can have us think about the speed of technology and technologies of reading that Derrida’s work has made one of its most important contributions to philosophy and literary and cultural studies. The book concentrates on that as proof of the continued relevance of such work.