Ok everybody, time to get provoked. First, broadly, I don’t think we can treat ‘failure’ as an absolute quality. I think any definition or consideration of failure demands to be understood within its own social context. When failure matters, failure names a relation of accountability, and thus a relation of power–the failure to live up to a certain standard designated by someone with the power to bestow a desirable identity or status. I think that there is a vogue now for failure, and that this vogue has a lot to do with the social and political-economic dynamics we read about in last week’s readings on digital labor.
So I wonder if failure is something of a poisoned gift. When you’re in on the joke, failure can be transformative (as Carr puts it), even ecstatic in its beauty. When you’re called a failure, on the other hand, you feel like a stranger in your own skin. In its present fashionable condition, failure enjoins us to certain affects and stances that are germane to capitalism. In other words, failure in its present guise invokes a certain style, affective posture, or libidinal economy that capitalism (in its current appropriation of user-generated content) can appropriate to its own ends: everything from the popular Jackass movies to YouTube stars, from the glorification of ‘white trash’ on Jersey Shore to the Silicon Valley startup culture of ‘fail fast’ that we saw in the reading of 37 Signals. The libidinal economy is this: ‘don’t worry if you fail, liberate yourself to be free!’ That’s not in itself objectionable, but in practice it often gets deployed within a shallow politics of visibility and lifestyle-expression that means buy, baby, buy. Let’s be honest, failure’s fun!
I say all that just to signpost that we should be critical about the redemptive qualities of failure. On the other hand, I’m rather besotted with the possibilities of failure as a critical praxis, exemplified in this week’s readings on pedagogy. My only question is, if we succeed at failing, have we really failed? In other words, if we enshrine ‘failure’ in order to appreciate its illumination of textual craftsmanship (or social construction, social hierarchies, gender, or anything else), do we domesticate its radical and subversive potentiality? In that way, there’s a certain banality to a text like Allison Carr’s (which is otherwise quite raw and compelling), and I wonder if that banality is simply an aesthetic effect or rather a root cause of failure-as-praxis. So this goes back to my first paragraph and the dangers of fetishizing failure. There’s so much else I want to elaborate, like: does the glorification of failure represent the zombie-like claim to power of an identity–let’s provisionally say whiteness, privilege, masculinity–within a postmodern moment that otherwise enshrouds us in uncertainty? What about those who can’t afford to fail?
I haven’t addressed the texts directly here, rather obliquely–hope I’ve failed. đ


