Todd May

Much has been written recently about the Deleuzian concept of becoming. Most of that writing, especially in feminist criticism, has drawn from the later collaborations with Guattari. However, the concept of a becoming arises earlier and appears more consistently across the trajectory of Deleuze's work than the discussion of specific becomings might lead one to believe. In this paper, I trace the concept of becoming in Deleuze's work, and specifically in the earlier works. By doing so, I hope to shed some light on the specific becomings that are the focus of the collaborative work with Guattari, and to deepen an understanding of the concept in general.

Moral individualists like Jeff McMahan and Peter Singer argue that our moral obligations to animals, both human and non‐human, are grounded in the morally salient capacities of those animals. By contrast, what might be called moral relationalists argue that our obligations to non‐human animals are grounded in our relationship to them. Moral relationalists are of various kinds, from relationalists regarding assistance to animals, such as Clare Palmer and Elizabeth Anderson, to relationalists grounded in a Wittgensteinian view of human practice, such as Cora Diamond and Alice Crary. This article argues that there are, in fact, two distinct types of moral reasons, those based on salient capacities and those based on relationships. Neither type of reason is reducible to the other, and there is no third type to which to reduce them both. Any attempt at reduction would run counter to deep intuitions about our moral relation to non‐human animals as well as to other humans. Among the implications of this is that certain kinds of arguments, such as the argument from marginal cases, seem to be incomplete precisely because they do not capture the complexity of our moral relations to non‐human animals.

This book offers a readable and compelling introduction to the work of one of the twentieth century's most important and elusive thinkers. Other books have tried to explain Deleuze in general terms. Todd May organizes his book around a central question at the heart of Deleuze's philosophy: how might we live? The author then goes on to explain how Deleuze offers a view of the cosmos as a living thing that provides ways of conducting our lives that we may not have dreamed of. Through this approach the full range of Deleuze's philosophy is covered. Offering a lucid account of a highly technical philosophy, Todd May's introduction will be widely read amongst those in philosophy, political science, cultural studies and French studies.

Alain Badiou argues in “Rancière and Apolitics” that Rancière has appropriated his central idea of equality from Badiou’s own work. We argue that Badiou’s characterisation of Rancière’s project is correct, but that his self-characterisation is mistaken. What Badiou’s ontology of events opens out onto is not necessarily equality, but instead universality. Equality is only one form of universality, but there is nothing in Badiou’s thought that prohibits the (multiple) universality he positsfrom being hierarchical. In the end, then, Badiou’s thought moves in a Maoist direction while Rancière’s in an anarchist one

How might we think about equality in a non-hierarchical fashion? How might equality be conceived with some degree of equality? The problem with the presupposition of liberalism is that, by distributing equality, liberals place most people at the receiving end of the political operation. There are those who distribute equality and those who receive it. Once you start with that assumption, the hierarchy is already in place. It’s too late to return to equality. Equality, instead of being the result of a political process, must be conceived as the presupposition of those who act. It must be the expression of political actors rather than the possession of a political hierarchy. In the formulation of Jacques Rancière, whose ideas form the framework of my thinking in this paper, “Politics only happens when these mechanisms are stopped in their tracks by the effect of a presupposition that is totally foreign to them yet without which none of them could ultimately function: the presupposition of the equality of anyone and everyone.”

While teaching values is an important part of education, contemporary moral education, however, presents a set of pre-established values to be inculcated rather than comprising a critical inquiry into their possible rightness and wrongness. This essay proposes a somewhat different direction by saying that education, rather than concerning itself with the moral, should concern itself with the ethical. Although morals and ethics are usually equated, we use ethical here as posited by Gilles Deleuze's question of who we might be, based on the recognition that we have no real idea of who we might be because we do not yet know what a body (which for Deleuze, after Spinoza, is both physical and mental, corporeal and incorporeal) is capable of. This essay addresses the ethical dimension of Deleuze's philosophy in the context of education and pedagogy as based on several important conceptual shifts. First, it proposes a broader inquiry into who we might be. Second, it proposes that it is what we do not know, rather than what we do, that is of educational significance. Third, it asserts that much of our world, as well as our learning, are unconscious rather than conscious. This postulate accords with Deleuze's larger ontology, in which there is more to this world than appears to common sense in immediate experience. And fourth, it proposes education as committed to experimentation rather than the transmission of facts or inculcation of values

Alain Badiou argues in “Rancière and Apolitics” that Rancière has appropriated his central idea of equality from Badiou’s own work. We argue that Badiou’s characterisation of Rancière’s project is correct, but that his self-characterisation is mistaken. What Badiou’s ontology of events opens out onto is not necessarily equality, but instead universality. Equality is only one form of universality, but there is nothing in Badiou’s thought that prohibits the (multiple) universality he positsfrom being hierarchical. In the end, then, Badiou’s thought moves in a Maoist direction while Rancière’s in an anarchist one.

How might we think about equality in a non-hierarchical fashion? How might equality be conceived with some degree of equality? The problem with the presupposition of liberalism is that, by distributing equality, liberals place most people at the receiving end of the political operation. There are those who distribute equality and those who receive it. Once you start with that assumption, the hierarchy is already in place. It’s too late to return to equality. Equality, instead of being the result of a political process, must be conceived as the presupposition of those who act. It must be the expression of political actors rather than the possession of a political hierarchy. In the formulation of Jacques Rancière, whose ideas form the framework of my thinking in this paper, “Politics only happens when these mechanisms are stopped in their tracks by the effect of a presupposition that is totally foreign to them yet without which none of them could ultimately function: the presupposition of the equality of anyone and everyone.”

For most of the past century, philosophers on the Continent and those in the United States and Britain have taken themselves to be working in very different, even mutually exclusive, philosophical traditions. Although that may have been true until recently, it is no longer so. This piece surveys ten different proposed distinctions that have been offered between the two traditions, and it shows that none of them works, as there are major thinkers on both sides of each proposed distinction that do not neatly fit the proposal. The upshot of this is that it no longer makes sense to uphold the idea of two traditions, and that it is time we all dropped the mutual suspicion and denigration that have characterized relationships between us for the past hundred years.

Anarchism, of whatever type, is likely to be resistance to the idea of world government. But this does not entail that it is resistance to world governance. Governance can happen at a variety of levels. It does not have to be top-down, as with world government, but can arise from the bottom up. To assume otherwise is to assume that governance happens only through hierarchies and not through the building of networks. The question facing those of us who would like to ask about how people’s behavior might be non-hierarchically governed in a world sense is that of how to construct networks of practices that presuppose the equality of everyone rather than asking what kind of transnational government would be adequate to the task of governing everyone

For those of us for whom philosophy is not merely a parlor game but a way to conceive and to change our lives, there is a struggle to be faced. If we forsake the intolerable aspects of our world in order to celebrate what is beautiful in it, we risk endorsing that intolerability. Alternatively, if we jettison the celebration of life for world-changing, we join the ranks of the many revolutions of the last century that killed their own. This article suggests that if we articulate the point of intersection between Merleau-Ponty’s concept of the flesh and Foucault’s concept of power - i.e. the body - we may be able to develop a conception of ourselves that embraces both ends of this seeming dilemma.

In Discipline and Punish, Michel Foucault offers a history of the rise of discipline in its application to the body. Foucault suggests, although he does not develop this suggestion, that the politics of discipline is war carried on by other means. The lecture series “Society Must Be Defended” can be seen as a development of this suggestion. In these lectures, Foucault offers a way of thinking about the society and its politics in terms of war, as well as a way of thinking about war. If this concept of war is integrated into the thought ofDiscipline and Punish, the work that that text does can be extended in several ways. First, we are offered an analysis of the social body that fractures the holism in the name of which penal reform is offered. Second, the disciplinary body can be seen not merely as the confluence of a series of power effects, but as the site of a contestation of power. Finally, the possibility of resistance, which has often been found lacking in Foucault’s genealogical works, appears as a live possibility.

Michel Foucault's thought not only converges with a certain type of pragmatism; it can deepen our understanding of pragmatism. There is an ambivalence in pragmatist thought between an approach that privileges the question of: ”What works?” and ”How does it work?” The former misses the political idea that some practices don't just work, but work for one purpose or another. Foucault's pragmatism does not focus on what works, but instead utilizes the concept of practices as a unit of analysis, and then asks how they work. This reintroduces a political element that sometimes goes missing in pragmatist thought