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Title: What Time Is It?
Author: Bob Brubaker
Date: 1983, Summer
Language: en
Topics: Civilization, anti-technology, Fifth Estate, Fifth Estate #313
Source: Retrieved February 3, 2020 from https://www.fifthestate.org/archive/313-summer-1983/what-time-is-it/
Notes: Fifth Estate #313, Summer, 1983, Volume 18, Number 2, page 6.

Bob Brubaker

What Time Is It?

In response to “Beginning of Time, End of Time,” FE #313, Summer, 1983 (

https://www.fifthestate.org/archive/313-summer-1983/beginning-of-time-end-of-time/

).

The question of time and its relationship to domination is central to

understanding our captivity. John’s article attempts to come to grips

with this very difficult subject; while what follows is often critical

of his attempt, I do not want to slight its radical intent or the hard

work he put into it. Nor should these criticisms obscure the fact that

it is an important introduction- to the question of time: it helps us to

see our perception of time as unnatural, as something imposed upon us,

as a force to be overthrown if we are to liberate ourselves.

John’s original manuscript contained 109 footnotes, comprising an

extensive reading list on the subject. I’m sorry that space limitations

and our unwillingness to typeset the footnotes will prevent readers from

having ready access to his sources. These sources stimulated me to do my

own reading on the subject; and if from that reading (and my own

reflections) I conclude that there are some fundamental problems with

John’s argument, I nevertheless acknowledge that he provides an opening

to what promises to be a fruitful dialogue.

While it might seem trivial to begin by complaining about John’s

extensive use of quotations, I think it reveals something more

significant than a hesitant or unsure writing style. Many of us had the

same impression upon reading the article: we think it would have been

more interesting if he had said more things in his own words; but more

importantly, some of us feel that he uses quotes in ways that do not

strengthen his argument. Some of these quotes seem tangential to the

main argument. Others seem to have different meanings than what he

attributes to them, or are torn from their contexts, defeating

understanding. This suggests to me that John is unsure about what he is

trying to say, or unaware of some of the implications of his arguments.

Perhaps we should treat his argument as a suggestive, impressionistic

effort rather than as “something done.”

One of John’s central contentions is that “alienation begins to appear

in the shape of time.” He believes that a sense of time gradually

emerges out of “no-time”, the primordial unity of hunter-gatherer life.

Although it is unclear to me how this sense of time “intrudes upon the

human psyche,” (at one point John says a sense of time emerges in early

infancy) it’s consequence is said to be anxiety and separation—the

genesis of alienation. Once people acquire a sense of time, anxiety

drives them to “spatialization,” the subduing and control of space, as a

kind of compensation. John calls the “large growth of human numbers” the

“first spatialization”; he believes it responsible for the progressive

breakdown of hunter-gatherer life and the emergence of the “division of

labor and other ensuing separations.” Spatialization is the high road to

domination, setting in motion a process which culminates in fixed

property, cities, and the state. Each new surge of spatialization leads

to a further refinement in the sense of time, until the emergence of

linear time and history, a “radical departure.” From which point on we

can say that time, alienation, and domination have become one in their

dominion over the human being.

It seems to me that the sticking point in this argument is what caused a

sense of time to emerge in the first place. As in all attempts to

account for the origins of alienation or domination, it is difficult

indeed to answer the question John poses: who brought the curse?

It is unclear to me how John deals with this question. He seems to

believe that population growth gradually brought forth social changes

which resulted in domination. But if, as he says, the large growth of

human numbers is “the first spatialization,” and spatialization is a

compensation for a sense of time, then a sense of time (and the origins

of alienation) must have preceded the increase in population. This leads

to the dismal conclusion that, once having acquired a sense of time,

people tried deliberately or otherwise to increase their numbers in

order to ameliorate their sense of deprivation. Reproduction leads to

domination. Furthermore, we still haven’t located the origin, or cause,

of the emergence of time. Perhaps the answer is to be found later in the

article, where John says alienation in time can be traced to early

infancy. What, then, is there which distinguishes this position from the

pessimistic “bourgeois” conclusion that “domination was the natural

outcome of population pressures”; or from the even more pessimistic

conclusion that alienation has ontological status—that all individuals,

and all cultures, experience time, and hence alienation? The human being

as the “alienated animal.”

Although it is necessary, on the basis of John’s argument, to accept so

dismal a conclusion, we should not be deterred from questioning the

merits of the argument itself. It seems to me unnecessary to accept

John’s equation that a sense of time equals alienation.

I think his linkage of the two is the result of a failure to appreciate

that primitive people have a rich and subtle time-sense. Or we could put

it differently: what John calls “no-time” is identical to the

psychological experience others have called “primordial” or “biological”

time. If he could see how different this primitive time-sense was from

our own abstract, linear, alienated sense of time, then he might be less

inclined to equate alienation with any and all senses of time.

In a sense, John is aware of this distinction among different cultural

perceptions of time, referring to distinctions among kinds and qualities

of time. This is one of the most confusing and exasperating things about

the article: if John wants to make such a sharp distinction between

“no-time” and “alienation in time,” why these qualifications and

discriminations? Doesn’t the delineation of “formal time concepts” or

“official time” imply that an informal, unofficial, “vernacular” sense

of time exists in opposition to it? Likewise, when John writes that

“differences in the interpretation of time constituted a demarcation

line between a state of nature and one of civilization,” is this not

tantamount to saying that people in the state of nature perceive and

interpret some sort of time? What exactly is meant by a “qualitative

sense of time” (which he appears to think is a good thing to have)? And

why does he call the emergence of linear time a “radical departure”—is

he arguing that while other time-senses are alienating, they are much

less so than linear time? How, then, does one conceive of these degrees

of alienation?

These confusions illustrate my earlier remark that John’s copious use of

quotes often does his argument no good. Or perhaps we can now state the

reverse: John’s argument is not consistent with the examples he adduces

to support it. These examples, in fact, point to a completely different

interpretation of time.

When John first sent us the article, I wrote to him about some problems

I had with his concept of “no’ time.” In response, he sent me a quote

from the book Political Philosophy and Time by John G. Gunnell, who

contends that primitive people have neither the perception nor the

conception of time. Following Ernst Cassirer and Susanne Langer, Gunnell

argues that the primary human attribute is symbolization: “For man

reality is what is presented to him in his symbols, and there is no

penetrating beyond symbols to a more ultimate datum; the factual world

is given in the symbolic. Man is continually in the process of creating

a virtual reality which forms the boundaries of his activity.”

Gunnell believes that primitive people order experience through the

symbolic form of myth, and that people in history order their experience

by the symbolic form called time. He writes that “time in the myth is

not really time at all”; continuing, “It may seem odd to maintain that

primitive and archaic societies lack a consciousness of time when it can

easily be demonstrated that such societies possess procedures which it

is difficult to designate by any term other than ‘time-reckoning,’ and

the high cultures of the ancient world developed complex and relatively

sophisticated methods and systems for calculating ‘time.’ But although

ancient man engaged in what, in retrospect, may be termed

‘time-reckoning,’ there is no distinction between the ‘time’ of nature,

the ‘time’ of creation, and the ‘time’ of society.”

But while Gunnell argues strenuously that primitive and ancient people

had no experience of time, he makes no claim that time emerges gradually

out of primitive society, leading to domination. In fact, he sees state

society, specifically ancient Egypt, as still existing within the

mythological order. And he argues that “in the ancient world

time-calculation was not primarily a function of an interest in

chronology as such, although a monopoly on this skill contributed to the

power of the kings and priests; it was essentially related to the

elaboration of the myth and served ultimately to bind together the

rhythms of nature and society. Discrete time symbols could not appear

until human existence emerged as a separate order, even in the societies

of ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia which possessed the complex social

structures which are normally associated with refined notions of time

and multiple levels of temporal ordering.” For Gunnell, then,

domination, in the form of state society, precedes the emergence of

time. Whatever one thinks of Gunnell’s argument, it is clear it does not

confirm John’s schema in which the emergence of time engenders

domination.

Gunnell’s argument does, however, support John’s conception of

“no-time.” But Gunnell occasionally exhibits the same problem John has

in taking quotes out of context. For instance, he quotes Ernst Cassirer

in the discussion about the timelessness of myth, arguing that (to quote

Cassirer), that in the myth “there is not only an absence of historical

time but ‘no time “as such,” no perpetual duration and no regular

recurrence or succession.’ ” Gunnell ends this quote with a period, but

in the actual text, from Volume 2 of The Philosophy of Symbolic Forms,

Cassirer follows the word succession with a semicolon. Let’s look at the

larger passage to see what Cassirer is actually saying: “For myth there

is no time ‘as such,’ no perpetual duration and no regular recurrence or

succession; there are only configurations of particular content which in

turn reveal a certain temporal gestalt, a coming and going, a rhythmical

being and becoming. Thus, time as a whole is divided by certain

boundaries akin to musical bars. But at first its ‘beats’ are not

measured or counted but immediately felt….The fact is that long before

the human consciousness forms its first concepts concerning the basic

objective differentiations of number, time, and space, it seems to

acquire the subtlest sensitivity to the peculiar periodicity and rhythm

of human life. Even at the lowest stages of culture, even among

primitive peoples who have barely arrived at the first beginnings of

enumeration and who consequently cannot possibly have any exact

quantitative conception of temporal relations, we often find this

subjective feeling for the living dynamic of the temporal process

developed in astonishing subtlety and precision….Thus we see that for

mythical consciousness and feeling a kind of biological time, a rhythmic

ebb and flow of life, precedes the intuition of a properly cosmic time.”

As we can see, the contextual emphasis of this passage is counter to

Gunnell’s truncated usage of it. The same fault plagues Johns article:

one would never know from his scattershot style of quotation that

Frankfort, Eliade, and Levy-Bruhl each are describing what they consider

to be a sense of time in primitive cultures.

Aside from this, Cassirer’s seems to me a plausible way to describe the

primitive sense of time. Indeed, as Frederick Turner points out in

Beyond Geography: The Western Spirit against the Wilderness,

“consciousness of the passage of time is inevitable in deaths, births,

natural disasters, and other phenomenon that willy-nilly record

duration.”

Perhaps one problem with John’s article, although I won’t insist on it,

is that he has what I would call a “naive” conception of primitive,

specifically hunter-gatherer, society. He equates their way of life with

Eden, and history with the Fall. Primitives are seen as living “only in

a now, as we all do when we are having fun.” Neitzsche on the eternity

of pleasure is also summoned to convey John’s impression of

hunter-gatherer life. While all this is suggestive it is probably too

utopian. Perhaps John is so allergic to anything smacking of anxiety, or

conflict, that he perceives as alienation what is only primitive

society’s ingenious ability to mollify its problems. Let me illustrate

what I mean by quoting Meyer Fortes, who is cited by Stanley Diamond in

his book In Search of the Primitive.

Fortes: “I do not mean to imply that everybody is always happy,

contented, and free of care in a primitive society. On the contrary,

there is plenty of evidence that among them, as with us, affability may

conceal hatred and jealousy, friendliness and devotion enjoined by law

and morals may mask enmity, exemplary citizenship may be a way of

compensating for frustration and fears. The important thing is that in

primitive societies there are customary methods of dealing with these

common human problems of emotional adjustment by which they are

externalized, publicly accepted, and given treatment in terms of ritual

beliefs; society takes over the burden which, with us, falls entirely on

the individual. Restored to the esteem of his fellows he is able to take

up with ease the routine of existence which was thrown temporarily off

its course by an emotional upheaval. Behavior that would be the maddest

of fantasies in the individual, or even the worst of vices, becomes

tolerable and sane, in his society, if it is transformed into custom and

woven into the outward and visible fabric of a community’s social life.

This is easy in primitive societies where the boundary between the inner

world of the self and the outer world of the community marks their line

of fusion rather than of separation.”

In my opinion, this passage conveys a much more accurate impression of

primitive society than anything in John’s article. And it raises yet

another question about the pessimistic implications of his argument. The

above description is meant to apply to all primitive-societies,

including those which practice agriculture. But according to John,

agricultural societies are already hopelessly mired in time and

alienation. When Diamond, or Fortes, or Pierre Clastres refer to

primitive society, they are assuming an essential continuity between

hunter-gatherer and agricultural communities. Clastres, for one,

explicitly argues that the movement of societies from hunting to

agriculture “appears to have been affected without changing the nature

of those societies in any way.” Perhaps John would consider the above

description of the resolution of conflict in primitive societies to

actually be a betrayal of alienation. If so, this would indicate with

utmost precision the pessimistic connotations of his argument: his

envisioned society would belong not to the earthly plane of existence

but could only be situated in heaven.

By now I have hammered away at virtually the entire scaffolding of

John’s argument. I began by criticizing its pessimistic implications; I

criticized numerous confusions in his usage of the word time; I

questioned his central notion of “no-time”; I questioned whether time in

fact engenders domination; finally, I questioned his “naive” version of

primitive society. But where does this leave me? I have no more answered

the question “Who brought the curse?” than has John. But if this

question is answerable, I believe it is more likely to be found when we

see with utmost clarity what primitive society is and is not.