Heikki Ikäheimo, Kristina Lepold, and Titus Stahl (eds), Recognition and Ambivalence. New York: Columbia University Press, 2021; 352 pages. ISBN: 9780231177603.
Marco Angella, Université Paris Nanterre
The concept of recognition, which has gained ever more attention since the early 1990s and has become prominent in the field of social philosophy, examines the everyday experience that our lives depend upon other individuals and that the relationship we establish with ourselves depends upon the ways in which others see us. Roughly, we may say that being loved, or appreciated for our work, or, more generally, positively affirmed in our own affective determinations by others’ actions and attitudes, results in our being able to relate positively with ourselves and have a fulfilling life; whereas being the object of misrecognition or disrespect hinders our ability to establish a positive relationship with ourselves and to fully realize our lives.
From this perspective, recognition is something we need to live a good life, while its denial necessarily hampers this possibility, at least to some extent. But is this always the case? Is recognition necessarily positive in its essence? What if, instead, recognition itself is in its essence ambivalent? What if, say, relations of recognition are constitutively unsatisfactory, asymmetrical, and a vehicle of domination? What if they do not lead to freedom, but rather constrain it? Starting from an initial four-chapter exchange between Axel Honneth and Judith Butler on their opposed accounts of recognition, the twelve chapters gathered in Recognition and Ambivalence explore what the authors consider to be the ambivalent aspects of recognition. In so doing, they explore a variety of issues ranging from the political significance of recognition to the relevance of its normative and psychological dimensions.
In his contributions, Honneth begins by claiming that Butler’s account of recognition remains unsatisfactory, despite undergoing drastic changes over the years. According to Honneth, Butler can argue that ascribing or attributing recognition to a person or a group necessarily has a “substantializing” effect and leads to the ideological reproduction of a social order, only because they do not properly distinguish between two different meanings of recognition: cognitive and moral. For Honneth, recognizing someone in a Hegelian sense does not mean identifying them from an epistemic point of view, but rather granting them a normative status that has normative effects on both sides—on the receiver as well as on the giver of recognition—for it implies a certain restriction of the latter’s freedom. To give recognition in a Hegelian sense, thus, means to recognize in the other a status or authority that forces the individual who grants recognition to limit their own liberty or freedom. Therefore, when one subject is recognized by another, the former is granted a form of freedom it did not possess beforehand, whereas the latter limits its own previously boundless freedom in relation to the other.
In replying to Honneth, Butler takes pains to show that their notion of recognition is not, as Honneth seems to have it, pessimistic or negative. For Butler, “recognition is always partial” (34). Recognition neither leads to a mechanical or deterministic reproduction of norms, nor does it always bring subjects to “regard” their identity “as an ‘essence’.” On the contrary, Butler maintains that it is often possible to oppose forms of power: agency and freedom can often be “found within the scene of social constraints” (38). In their detailed replies to Honneth’s criticisms, Butler emphasizes the difference between recognition and recognizability, contending that Honneth’s notion of recognition fails to “address the systemic differentials of power by which some are produced as recognizable beings worthy” of recognition while others are not (65). They also reflect on what differentiates Honneth’s interpretation of Hegel’s notion of recognition from their own; on the different use and meaning they give to the normative dimension of their work; and on their respective understanding of the notion of the negativity of recognition.
It is impossible here to reproduce Butler’s reflections in their entirety; suffice it to say that in debating with Honneth they provide us with a comprehensive reconstruction of their thought with great clarity, while at the same time casting light on some of the ambivalent aspects of recognition that will be systematically addressed in the subsequent chapters.
Lois McNay’s chapter presents a critique of Honneth’s theory of recognition. According to McNay, one of the major issues of Honneth’s theory derives from his attempt to avoid relativism by grounding it on a “rational universal.” Whether it be his earlier “ontology of recognition” (a transhistorical anthropology of recognition) or his later development of a more nuanced historical conception of recognition (entailing the idea of the inevitability of progress and the move from ontology to teleology), for McNay, Honneth’s theory ends up being unable to fully seize the specificity of social practice, especially when it comes to a nuanced understanding of power and conflict. Employing the examples of familial dynamics and gender inequalities, McNay aims to show that linking critique to the idea of (inevitable) progress “considerably underplays the significance of the negative tendencies and contradictions of social life” (76). According to the author, these weaknesses could be avoided by relying on a “more limited and ‘deflationary’ notion of progress” (88).
Starting from a Butlerian perspective, Amy Allen criticizes Honneth by arguing for a richer and more ambivalent concept of recognition. According to Allen, Honneth’s philosophical anthropology—and particularly his way of reading the episodic states of symbiosis between the baby and the caregiver through the concept of recognition—grounds his theory from a threefold perspective: normative (Honneth thinks of them as “the paradigm of all experiences of recognition”), social/theoretical (the breakup of these states explains the birth of both social and individual struggles for recognition), and metanormative (this breakup also explains the possibility of progress). But what if Honneth’s strong philosophical-anthropological hypothesis interpreting primary relations as episodic states of fusion were wrong? What if this interpretation, which thinks of recognition as in itself a “positive” phenomenon, were in fact overly optimistic? According to Allen, the lack of ambivalence in the philosophical-anthropological and psychological basis of Honneth’s theory of recognition ends up diminishing the force and richness of his criticism not only in the sphere of love, but in the larger dimensions of society and politics as well.
In Chapter 7, Kristina Lepold aims to highlight the ambivalence of the concept of recognition by calling into question those interpretations of Butler and Althusser that make a connection between recognition and subjection. According to the author, this connection has been characterized in two ways in recent literature: recognition is seen either as “ontologically constitutive of subjects” and “therefore a form of subjection that harms” individuals’ autonomy, or as “functional for” their subjection, to the extent that it makes “them adopt subordinating self-understandings” (129–30.) For Lepold, for whom both these interpretations are inadequate, there is no straightforward connection between recognition and subjection. Subjection is not something that “individuals passively undergo.” On the contrary, subjection as subjection to social norms (as it should be interpreted, rather than subjection to others) is “something that individuals actively carry out” (140). Starting from this, Leopold argues that for Butler and Althusser, “whether or not recognition is ambivalent depends on the particular social norms to which individuals subject themselves” (148).
In his chapter, Titus Stahl analyzes two different ways to conceive recognition. The Hegelian model establishes a connection between recognition and autonomy. In this model, even though it is certainly true that not all forms of recognition lead to autonomy, “any recognition regime” always contains in itself the resources it needs to overcome domination. On the contrary, for authors such as Butler and Althusser, recognition is marked by ambivalence, for it is always inseparable from domination: the recognition we need to be autonomous implies domination; while it is indispensable to subjects, at the same time it constrains their capacity to exercise criticism (immanent critique is here no longer possible). The author aims to support the Hegelian tradition by showing how a complex model of immanent critique can respond to the “ambivalence claim” regarding recognition and by offering a broader and more convincing concept of emancipation.
Heikki Ikäheimo’s chapter deals with the concept of reification. Ikäheimo starts by analytically differentiating and clarifying the various meanings and aspects of this concept. In this way, he provides us with a detailed “conceptual map” of the issues that are central to debates on reification. He then focusses on one particular type of reification, namely reification of persons, further clarifying and differentiating the concept. Finally, based on the introduced differentiations, he analyzes some ambiguities found in Honneth’s concept of reification, i.e., the ambiguities emerging from his conception of taking over the other’s perspective and from his claim that “elementary recognition” is neutral from a moral viewpoint. Ultimately, Ikäheimo aims to offer an account of recognition which, while close to Honneth’s, is able to avoid the criticism of being “overly optimistic.”
In his chapter, Jean-Philippe Deranty focusses on the issue of negativity in the current debate on recognition. After taking into account what negativity means in those authors who consider recognition in a strictly normative way—i.e., those for whom recognition has no psychological import (e.g., Jürgen Habermas, Nancy Fraser, James Tully)—Deranty deals with those approaches that make the normative value of recognition dependent on a thick psychological or social theory of the formation of the subject. For each of the most important dimensions of recognition—namely, subjective (the primary socialization of the subject), social-relational, and political—Deranty analyzes the main interpretations of negativity in recent debate. These are: 1) Lacanian approaches, for which recognition is structurally negative, entailing subjection to power and internalization of structures of domination (e.g., Butler, Slavoj Žižek) and, 2) approaches relating recognition to object relation theories, for which negativity is also intrinsic to recognition, but always also entails a positive side (e.g., Honneth). However, Deranty argues that a third way to interpret “negativity” is possible, in which negativity relates to a broader concept of interaction comprising the inner (conscious or subconscious), the natural and material, and the intersubjective world. Although essential, relations of recognition are insufficient to exhaustively account for the pathologies related to this broad concept of interaction.
Literature on recognition rarely expands on the claim that there is a basic need for recognition. Robin Celikates’ chapter deals with the issues related to this undertheorized aspect by investigating the relation between recognition, needs, and agency. “What is the ‘need for recognition’ a need for”? (259) “What is recognition a necessary condition for”? (267) To what extent is it a “necessary condition of agency”? (270) By answering questions such as these, Celikates does not want to reject the connection between misrecognition and struggles or conflicts. Rather, he aims at emphasizing the role of the latter by refraining to conceptualize recognition in terms of basic needs. By rejecting heavy psychological and anthropological assumptions regarding “supposedly basic needs for recognition” (272), he thus proposes a negativistic, minimalist, and proceduralist account that focusses on misrecognition.
Of the two orientations regarding struggles of recognition, the teleological (Rousseau, Hegel, Honneth) and the agonistic (Nietzsche, Foucault, Tully, Jaques Rancière), David Owen explores the latter. Through a comparative analysis of the theories of Rancière and Tully (including a focus on how they criticize the teleological approach to recognition), the author aims not only to identify the ambivalence of recognition in their agonistic framework, but also to ascertain whether their respective approaches—one committed to equality, the other to freedom—are essentially at odds with one another. Ultimately, Owen finds that this is not the case, and that “political action as an egalitarian logic may be understood as the agonistic exercise of civic freedom” (315).
In acknowledging the ambivalence of recognition and exploring the different ways in which critical reflection can move beyond entirely pessimistic or entirely optimistic views of this concept, the articles gathered in this book greatly further research on the various facets of recognition, and deepen our understanding of its importance both at an individual and at a social and political level.