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The Filofax Twenty Years On: Self-Organisation in the Age of Cybernetic Systems

Wendy Wheeler

©Wendy Wheeler 2008

Almost twenty years ago (December 1988) Bea Campbell and I wrote an article for Marxism Today called ‘Filofaxions’ (available on the MT archive at the Barry Amiel and Norman Melburn Trust website: http://www.amielandmelburn.org.uk/collections/mt/index_frame.htm). In it we argued that while male forms of consumption (Arthur Scargill’s cars for example) were apparently acceptable, ‘softer’ effete forms associated with the easing of women’s labour (washing machines, for example) and middle-class yuppiedom (‘yuppie’: young upwardly mobile professionals – with a nod at ex-‘yippie’ Jerry Rubin’s 1982 move into business networking) were not. Arthur Scargill had appeared at the Labour Party Conference that year brandishing a Party Card in one hand and a Filofax in the other. We suggested that he had ‘thrown down the gauntlet’ to something, and wondered what it was. That year’s Marxism Today Christmas Present Offers included a Marxism Today filofax. I received one in my stocking, and I’m still using it – although only as an address book; the rest of my self-organisation is based in my PC and mobile phone.

The Filofax in fact dates back to the 1920s at least. Its burst of immense popularity in the 1980s may be linked to its capacity to state something significant about personal identity as that was increasingly experienced during the 1980s in terms of time management, goal orientation, and general promotion of personal material success in terms of time maximisation. The latter is often closely tied to the idea of the Pareto analysis based on the Pareto distribution (80% of tasks take 20% of your time and the remaining 20% of tasks take 80%, in the same way that roughly 20% of the population own 80% of the nation’s wealth, and 20% of a company’s clients generate 80% of its profit). The Pareto Chart is frequently used in Total Quality Control management – another 1980s arrival. Pareto rules suggest similarly that 80% of productivity arises from 20% of any population. It goes without saying that a society run strictly on economic principles of maximising productivity and profit will not only not value 80% of its population, but will also generate considerable anxiety about being one of the 20% of life’s productive ‘winners’. Perhaps this is what the Filofax darkly signified. Perhaps this – the strength of collectivity in the face of Pareto distribution inequalities driven by inheritance or individualistic ambition – is what Arthur meant.

That decade was the first in which we really felt the effects of Thatcherism and the neo-liberal turn, in which MT, led by Stuart Hall’s ‘new times’ analysis, mounted an attempt to ‘see the new’ in all its difficulty. Bea and I drew on Raymond Williams’ analyses of the past and future shapes of modernity (Culture and Society and The Long Revolution) in order to complicate Scargill’s seemingly simple opposition between the past of Party membership and commitments, and the awful consumerist ‘Greed is Good’ self-interested future represented by the Filofax. Mark Perryman told me that ‘Filofaxions’ drew one of the largest and most infuriated bags of letters in response that MT had ever received. It seems hard to imagine now; but that was a ‘moment’, towards the end of a decade when vast tectonic shifts were first felt and acknowledged in the ways we could envisage a future in which the Left might have something gripping and politically relevant to say.

Bea and I were arguing that the distinctions, of class and gender in this case, which had supported the Left imaginary from the 1920s into the post-World War 2 years, were now insufficient to carry the weight of neo-liberal ‘new times’. Not only were the shifts being felt from the late sixties and early seventies in terms of identity politics, but, by the 1980s, these shifts were, themselves, mutating in ways that rendered those old distinctions increasingly. The humble technology of the Filofax, we said, signalled a putting together of lives (particularly for women entering the complicated and multi-demanding life of working women and mothers as professional wage-earners – often as not in the absence of supportive partnerships) which were to be communicationally organised in new and different ways.

The concept of globalisation, as used by economists, was also a 1980s arrival. In 1989 this took definite technological form in Tim Berners-Lee’s invention of the World Wide Web – a project he had been working on at CERN since 1980. This latest communicational technology, made widely available via the desktop PC, was, as we know, both liberating and democratising, but also a further pressure on people’s uses of time and what (especially via email) came to be expected of them in terms of responsiveness and efficiency. The management of efficiency – supposedly tied to creative innovation as material profitability – was an obsession much strengthened in the 1980s. But perhaps the most interesting thing about the Web does not lie in some simplistic idea of communication and trade for immediate profit, but lies, instead, in what it tells us about ourselves, and in the ways we can truly profit socially from this knowledge in the longer term.

All communicational technology, from language itself, to the wheel, to the printing press, to lenses, to telegraph, telephone, radio, film and TV is (as Marshall McLuhan pointed out) an extension of bodily capacities in the world. And, as bodies and what they can do are the sources of minds, every technological innovation is at the same time an innovation in mind and subjectivity. The Web, though, is the first technology which is, itself, essentially mind-like. It doesn’t only extend our cognitive capacities by putting a world-wide library at our fingertips, it also tells us something about how mind and cognition works. The advent of computers led many to assume that minds are like (or even are) computers. This is not right – not least because computers don’t have the wondrous complexity of evolutionarily adaptive bodies-in-environments. But a world-wide network of computers, with human bodies-and-minds-in-environments attached, does produce an aspect of mindedness. We can see this techne of human-mindedness in the way we negotiate and move through the Web we have made.

Modern Western societies are based on post-Socratic assumptions about the nature of mind (and knowledge and learning) which are both deeply dualistic (such that mind is not recognised as dependent upon body-in-the-world) and also wedded to the idea that human knowing is always potentially self-conscious and explicit. If you know something, in other words, you must be able to say explicitly what it is. But, as we all in fact know, we have hunches about solutions to problems and questions, and it is this that leads us to pursue certain lines of inquiry in preference to innumerable possible others. But hunches are intuitions; we cannot be explicit about them. It was this fact about human knowing which led the philosopher (and scientist) Charles Sanders Peirce to propose a third form of logical inference in addition to deduction and induction. He called this third form of logical inference ‘abduction’ or ‘retroduction’. Abductions are the fruit of unconscious (semiotic) experience of signs and meanings. They are the result of implicit, or tacit, knowledge in the form of ‘educated guesses’. Similarly, the philosopher (and scientist) Michael Polanyi developed the idea of ‘tacit knowledge’ in which ‘we know more than we can tell’.

And this, indeed, is how we progress through the Web. Our hypotheses dictate our search terms, and the ways we progress (and must progress) through all the innumerable html links which make up the web is, in the end, via hunches and intuitions. This is how human knowing grows more knowledge. Human rationality is neither wholly explicit nor wholly a matter of conscious calculation. It depends, as Polanyi argues, on a fiduciary framework in which we have faith in the structured nature of a reality about which more can definitely be known. There seems to be a fit between the structured ways in which minds know and the structure of the environmental reality in which knowing occurs. This is just as true for scientists as it is for poets. The reason there’s a fit between minds, the systems they produce, and reality is that metabiotic cybernetic systems (psyches, societies, technology) evolve and arise from biotic cybernetic systems (naturally evolved ecologies). Natural morphologies evolve into cultural morphologies. A society driven by the idea of self-maximisation via self-conscious calculation and management alone is not only hopelessly misguided, it is also obliged to commit countless large and small acts of violence against the actual affective and intuitive experiential processes informing the knowing human beings which comprise it.

An apprehension of the world derived from these kinds of understandings about the tacit nature of communication, systems and minds would at once see the folly of the idea of ‘rational management’ – let alone micro-management. It would see, instead, the need for facilitation and general confidence in systemic process, creativity, and self-organisation. Where system responses to perturbations grow in ways likely to be injurious, interventions should be based on the best evidence-based research – as it now is in medicine – rather than on politicians’ and managers’ fashion-spun prejudices. The now increasingly spoken about ‘death of New Labour’ should also spell the death of neo-liberal ideas of managed laissez-faire. The gardener does not let the garden alone; she or he tends to it responsively – a quite different attitude to that of aggressive and unresponsive ‘management’.

For, finally, it is this question of constant interference and detested unresponsive management – in politics and in the public services especially – which seems to be the sorest point of all now in the widespread hostility towards New Labour and Gordon Brown. The local council elections and the London mayoral election, followed by the Crewe and Nantwich by-election, have delivered in unmistakable terms the extent of popular loathing of the government. From endless hours of reading all the Have Your Says and blogs following the elections, it is clear to me that the electorate’s hostility is both widespread and implacable. The themes are consistent: they are both betrayal (over the symptomatic 10p tax rate specifically and civil liberties generally), and also the common perception of a self-righteous and disapproving government that holds ordinary working people and their habits in contempt, and which constantly seeks to manage and ‘improve’ them. This, too, is a problem of self-reflexive (rather than hetero-reflexive) recursion in which too much conscious interference in the system by the system itself produces inflammatory positive feedback (in the cybernetic sense): too much ‘noise’ results in too little communication. Such persistent self-reference (and failure to recognise that systems are always ‘ecologically’ embedded in other biotic and metabiotic systems) is arguably the Cartesian poison at the heart of western modernity.

The genealogy of this contempt is clear. New Labour under Gordon Brown has stepped clean into the mantel of sanctimonious Victorian finger-wagging and temperance movement evangelicals. Indeed, one is tempted to ask this government what it thinks is so admirable about the working classes which have so long formed its base, and been the object of its benevolent concern and supposed esteem. Ordinary working-class people now very often seem to experience themselves and their ways of life as despised by this government of middle-class reprovers. Their response is to return the sentiment with knobs on. Under conditions of class antagonism such as these, rowdy Hooray-Henry toffs from Eton – who are a bit non-bourgeois in their irregular habits themselves – might not seem like such an appalling alternative.

The same logic of systemic hetero-referential recursion and re-entry which underlies Peircean abduction also informs and underlies the logic of cybernetic information and communication systems. The death of New Labour, as the continuation of the liberal project of utilitarian management, was inevitable. The success of the Filofax in the 1980s was both a straw in the wind blowing from the future of global communication technologies, and also the last gasp of the technologies (merely personal and print/writing based) whose cognitive end the Filofax simultaneously prefigured. The first politicians capable of grasping not only the ways in which systems interact, co-depend, and co-evolve, but also that these are all cybernetic communication systems – now technologically manifested in global forms – will be the politicians most capable of facilitating the future.

From the personal Filofax self-organiser to the Web twenty years on – and the idea of self-organisation begins to mean something quite different. From the harassed self-organisation of the hyper-rationalising individual, we begin to glimpse an awareness of the abducting creative reason of individuals as mysterious and valuable localised communication ‘systems’ always emergent from and dependent on larger natural and cultural communication systems. Each is self-organising (autopoietic, cybernetic) in its own particular biosemiotic and semiotic ways. This is not a simple anarchist argument; systems small and large can get sick. But the conditions of health in both are systemic: communicational and, thus, relational, and forged through the encounter between identity (me) and difference (not me). The creative freedom of individuals is enormously important; but let’s not forget that it is dependent upon the wider web of communicational relational systems of which it is a part, and from which it arises.

Wendy Wheeler is Reader in English at London Metropolitan University. Her research interests are in biotic, metabiotic, and abiotic cybernetic systems, and in the interrelations between all three in and across culture and nature. She is the author of The Whole Creature: Complexity, Biosemiotics and the Evolution of Culture (Lawrence & Wishart 2006)


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