A recent comment from Jason Hills, gave me the sense that I need to try and sketch out, as clearly and concisely) as I can, what I can only think of as a kind of ontography: a mapping of the nature of being. I know this post does not constitute an adequate answer to Jason’s questions but it’s what came out! There is here a particular focus on objects, so I guess this counts as object-oriented…
Assembly Line: a processual object with its parts
I guess my take on objects is something like this. Objects are what objects do. What they do is exist. They also change. Objects are created, reproduced, modified, agential, and destroyed.
Creation is ontogenesis; an aesthetic and sensual process, causal in nature, deriving from objects and generative of objects though much else too. Reproduction takes two forms. One is the continuous reproduction (or re-enactment) of themselves, another is reproduction of themselves through the creation of a new self-similar descendent (though this reproduces ‘larger objects’ or societies). My concern here is more with the former. This reproduction, enduring, or continuing to be does not operate in a void. This continuation is vitally dependent on its environment, its context, its ecological position or its regime of attraction for its own perpetuation. Its environment is populated with other objects that it might encounter and these all have their own agency too: they give rise to the possibility of the aesthetic dimension, the medium of causality, on the interior of another object. This is the sensual experience of being. To be surrounded by objects in an unfolding process; a succession of events within events starring a cast of objects all half-nested in other objects, and participating in the realisation of a frenzied cacophony of unique experiences and gestures.
So each object is defined in part by its stream of encounters, its sensual experience, which leaves an invisible imprint that nonetheless partially modulates or orients the object to its subsequent experiences. But it is not a passive experiencer. Like the objects that surround it, it too has agency. The object has agency: it is after all a subject from its own perspective, its own protagonist. As ‘simple’ as its agency may appear to be, as instrumental or as artistic as it may be, its circulation is part of the cosmic poly-rhythmic, dance of being. As such, other objects are perturbed by it and carry its traces like the wake of a boat.
Time is unique to each object. An assembly line, for example, constitutes an object. It is an object that has its own coherent whole. It is not just an aggregate since its parts together, as an assembly line and not just as a heap of the parts, make possible a function that is not properly the parts but is, precisely, that of the assembly line. But the functioning of the assembly line, or rather its being, is clearly a temporal affair. An assembly line assembles and it is through the performance of assembly that an assembly line takes on its proper being. A stone, on the other hand, simply has to stone in order to persist. A river, conversely, must flow – or else it is a lake, a pool, a swamp or a reservoir.
Each object, in this sense, contains its own temporailty. However, each object is also a part of countless other objects and thus time is both external to it and internal to it. Inner time must always be something of a mystery, remaining hidden though structuring an object’s experience. Outer time is only experienced by an object as the tension between the rhythms of external objects (partially structured as they are by external objects they are all parts of) and the object’s own internal time. These times are incommensurable. Even though in some sense they can be said to be unfolding simultaneously, they are each unique. Objects have no alternative but to deal with time, one way or another.
These temporal objects – events and processes in their own right – do not (at least for the most part, it would seem to me) last for ever. When they are reduced to their traces, when their delicate essence no longer sings its saga, when their parts no longer play their parts, when they are unable to reproduce themselves; objects finally exit the cosmos, though their traces may long – perhaps eternally (or as close to that as we might imagine) – circulate, cavorting through the cosmos doing what such objects do (see beginning of this note!).
The ontography of doing/practice can only be conducted through an engagement with doing/practice as both focus and method of inquiry.
I still have concerns. I won’t reproduce them again, but Levi, myself, and others had a long talk about whether OOO must commit itself to metaphysical or epistemic nominalism. If “object” is merely a formal distinction that is also the fundamental ontological unit, then it does appear to commit itself to metaphysical nominalism, wherein the “objects within objects”-speak produces new objects with every shift in analytic perspective. But then that privileges the analyst and defeats one of the primary motivations of OOO–flat ontology.
I think that object has to denote a real entity. I also think that these objects can come in very weird shapes and sizes and temporalities. I also think the concept of sensual object is very important for reminding us that what is perceived is not the real object but rather is experienced sensually by the perceiving object. As such, ‘sensual objects’ – and I think here that the term object is problematic as it appears to imply a focus on a single object rather than a field of experience – may completely fail to recognise real objects that are present and may bundle up other real objects into single unities that they – in no real sense – can rightfully be described as. Thus, object is not just what the analyst ‘sees’ once they have selected their frames for seeing, but rather something(s) withdrawn lurking behind these.
Some objects reveal their autonomous reality more readily than others – though they are still withdrawn from prehension (not only our own but that of others)… Others are much less easily discernible and so remain contested. So I think we (I?) have to juggle with the dual responsibility of emphasising metaphysical nominalism while still accepting that what is actually given to me – the specific contours that I draw – are based on my sensual encounters informed by a particular ontographic position. This ontography determines the range of modes of being that I am able to discern.
At the moment I think that powers and agency can only be attributed to real objects (rather like Karen Barad’s agential realism). The possibility that I may misread the source of that agency and invent non-existent forces, powers or entities is perhaps not surprising given that many real objects remain cloaked. At the same time, the ‘fictitious’ entities that I create ultimately circulate – e.g. as factishes – come to have their own agency and are therefore real (even if they are placeholders for something actually non-existent) and can thus affect the objects they encounter in turn (I’m with Latour and Stengers here).
Ultimately, I am concerned with doing – both of the things around me and of myself and other humans. Consequently, process, event and practice are of great importance to me. I still cannot let go of the idea that agency lies in real beings and their powers/qualities rather than being ‘out there’ or coming from ‘in-between’ objects. Having said that, the powers of real beings manifest differently in different contexts and so the constellation of other objects (e.g. that make up a regime of attraction in Levi’s parlance) affect this manifestation. In this sense, causality may appear to be ‘out there’ but, in effect it arises from the relationship between (1) the plenum of external objects with their unique and particular powers locally manifesting in unique and particular ways; and (2) the experiencing objects sensual encounter of these other objects around them.
Regarding objects within objects, I guess that if you meet me in the street, you would be engaging with me as a human unit (mostly) whereas if you were looking at my skin under a microscope you would be engaging with my cells. Clearly, then, what you are looking at affects what you see. It does not affect what is really there. Whatever is really there is, at any moment, all really there. So I don’t think that the issue is so much that we actually produce new objects with every shift in analytic perspectives. Rather, we either encounter different objects depending on our analytic perspective (in some cases) OR we end up arguing over the reality of different objects given to us by our analytic perspective (in other cases). I may be missing the point here and would be very eager to learn more about the ground you have already covered in discussion with Levi on this matter. If there’s anything you could share further, I would be very interested in reading it!
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Concerning the following,
“I think here that the term object is problematic as it appears to imply a focus on a single object rather than a field of experience – may completely fail to recognise real objects that are present and may bundle up other real objects into single unities that they – in no real sense – can rightfully be described as. Thus, object is not just what the analyst ‘sees’ once they have selected their frames for seeing, but rather something(s) withdrawn lurking behind these.”
Point taken–the term “object” is used so equivocally that I constantly wonder what is being left out. E.g., “I think that powers and agency can only be attributed to real objects” … so are there conceptual objects? If so, then “object” must be a purely analytic category if we are not equivocating. If we are equivocating, well, it’s not my place to sort it out. But I find the manatra of withdrawal making me even more sceptical that these issues can be addressed. It seems that Harman has it in hand–I love it when a thinker is clear enough to disagree with easily.