Hardt on leadership

Yesterday afternoon I went to see Michael Hardt talk about leadership in social movements. The title of the talk was “Where have all the leaders gone?” and his goal was to think through some of the recent “leaderless” movements: BLM, Occupy, etc. One aspect of the talk really resonated with our last discussion on Bifo’s recent book, and that’s what I wanted to post about here.

To set up his analytical framework, he began with the distinction between strategies and tactics. Typically, strategy is the realm of leaders: taking the long view, gauging the field of action, and making plans, while tactics are the purview of the followers, or the grassroots: they involve specific interests, short term action, etc. Rather than doing away with leadership altogether and noting the spontaneity of political events (which is often a mischaracterization of careful planning, in his view), Hardt instead wants to think through what might happen if the realms of strategies and tactics were inverted. In this case, it would be grassroots movements that define the strategies (what he ends of calling the entrepreneurship of the multitude, in an effort to recapture the “e” word from the enthusiasts of neoliberalism) and to have tactical leadership to execute these strategies, which would take place in the short term, serve specific purposes, and rely on leaders’ technical expertise.

But I found this particularly compelling when he spoke about how we should look to other spheres to identify our virtual capacities to strategize politically.  Following the increasing sociality of production that has arisen in the post-Fordist era, he suggests that if people can manage to do this in economic production, for example, then why not in politics? His examples were the role of caring by hospice nurses — who serve as points of contact for the patient and their loved ones — and the role that coding plays in Google’s pagerank algorithm, which continuously makes new connections between the search engine’s performance and the collective intelligence making use of it. Beyond the economic, if this can also be done in other social or cultural relationships, then isn’t the capacity also transferable to political organizing?

It’s this point that I find to be the most compelling. I’m thinking particularly about my comment on the eight-hour immersive play Gatz, and how I — as someone who is not likely to protest in the street — am drawn to this sort of collective aesthetic experience (and want to be more involved, want to discuss and “share breath,” as Bifo says). Or like this reading group, which has functioned as a self-organized body for 6.5 years. In Hardt’s formulation, the ability to organize these sorts of interactions attests to the capacity to organize, and therefore to strategize. The challenge, politically, is to then actualize these (virtual) capacities toward political ends, and to then select leaders/experts that can carry them out.

PKD’s Timothy Archer on music (vs. Bifo on poetry?)


Regarding our conversation on why Bifo was interested in poetry, rather than, say, music: this is a short passage from Philip K. Dick’s The Transmigration of Timothy Archer, in which the title character is discussing Beethoven’s Fidelio with his daughter-in-law:

“It goes beyond beauty,” Tim said. “It involves an apprehension of the nature of freedom itself. How can it be that purely abstract music, such as his late quartets, can without words change human beings in terms of their own awareness of themselves, in terms of their ontological nature? Schopenhauer believed that art, in particular music, had — has — the power to cause the will, the irrational, striving will, to somehow turn back onto and into itself and cease to strive. He considered this a religious experience, although temporary. Somehow art, somehow music especially, has the power to transform man from an irrational thing into some rational entity that is not driven by biological impulses, impulses that cannot by definition ever be satisfied…”