The Art of Discipline: Ways and Means
[The Terracotta warriors]
[Continues "Change in the Regime of Power"]
Like any regime of power trying to reach its goal (the docile body), disciplinary power has methods specific to it, its unique way of proceeding. It also employs specific instruments to carry out these operations, to execute the procedure. Together, these methods (procedures + techniques = ways) and instruments (apparatuses/devices + mechanisms = means) comprise the particular way in which disciplinary power works. They comprise the art which, if it is being practiced/employed, ensure (and should allow recognition) that discipline is at work, that disciplinary power is being exercised. Foucault tracks down these disciplinary ways and means.
There are four disciplinary methods. First, the distribution of individual bodies in space (to order a multiplicity). A space is subdivided (with the divisions “heterogeneous” from each other but with a particular division monotonous and “closed in upon itself”) into “as many sections as there are bodies or elements to be distributed” with the result that the pertinent space is specified (made into an enclosure) (141, 143). Individual bodies are then placed in specific subdivisions (in the enclosure) such that “each individual has his own place; and each place its individual” (this is the process of partitioning in which “an analytical space” is organized) (143). This division and positioning makes each individual—and all—not only analyzable/knowable, but also (as they are linked to other individuals based on certain requirements) useful (turning the partitions into functional sites) (143-5).
Now, this individualization of bodies “does not give them a fixed position, but distributes them and circulates them in a network of relations” where (as in structuralism) “the elements are interchangeable, since each is defined by the place it occupies in a series, and by the gap that separates it from the others” (146, 145). The unit is thus “neither the territory (unit of domination), nor the place (unit of residence),” nor the identity of the individual (based on some personality or characteristics), but the rank, i.e. an element’s relative position in an interrelated network (the enclosure), which, (over time) changes (145). This “transform[s] the confused, useless or dangerous multitudes into ordered multiplicities”—ordered, that is, relationally, which is to say flexibly—that can be both observed/classified/analyzed/known and regulated/used/improved/commanded (148) (my emphasis).
Second, the control of activity (to extract time from bodies). A time-table is set-up to “establish rhythms, impose particular occupations, regulate the cycles of repetition” by dividing time and “assur[ing] the quality of the time used” so as to avoid waste and “constitut[e] a totally useful time” (149-50). The body is then “adjust[ed . . .] to temporal imperatives,” i.e. acts are elaborated (the body is instructed as to which act to do, when, how fast, how long . . .) so as to be coordinated with time (which has itself been elaborated) (151-2). The body is further correlated (in terms of its overall position) with the gestures it has to perform (for efficiency and speed) and articulated (in terms of its ability and familiarity) with the object it has to work with (to perform the appropriate move to achieve the desired effect; i.e. for effectiveness) (152, 153). The goal of all this, of course, is to “extract, from time, ever more available moments and, from each moment, ever more useful forces,” i.e. the exhaustive use of time. The object thus is no longer “the mechanical body—the body composed of solids and assigned movements—[but . . .] the natural body, the bearer of forces and the seat of duration” with emphasis on “behavior and its organized requirements [. . . rather than] the simple physics of movement” (155).
Third, the organization of geneses (to accumulate the time extracted). (The) Duration (of different activities or of the same activity by individuals of different aptitudes) is “divide[d . . .] into successive or parallel segments, each of which must end at a specific time” (157). Threads (i.e. the continuity of segments) are “organized [. . .] according to an analytical plan—successions of elements as simple as possible, combining according to increasing complexity,” concluded “with an examination, which will have the triple function of showing whether the subject has reached the level required, of guaranteeing that each subject undergoes the same apprenticeship and of differentiating the abilities of each individual” (158). A series is then drawn up “for each individual, according to his level, his seniority, his rank, [so that he is instructed to] the exercises that are suited to him” (158). Thus, “for the ‘initiatory’ time of traditional training, [. . .] disciplinary time had substituted its multiple and progressive series” (159).
Foucault considers the consequences of (and motivation behind) this method:
The ‘seriation’ of successive activities makes possible a whole investment of duration by power: the possibility of detailed control and a regular intervention (of differentiation, correction, punishment, elimination) in each moment of time; the possibility of characterizing, and therefore of using individuals according to the level in the series that they are moving through; the possibility of accumulating time and activity, of rediscovering them, totalized and usable in the final result, which is the ultimate capacity of an individual. Temporal dispersal is brought together to produce a profit, thus mastering a duration that would otherwise elude one’s grasp. Power is articulated directly onto time; it assures its control and guarantees its use (160).
In other words: increased specification/individualization/punctiliousness/intensity (i.e. efficiency) and increased effectiveness. Or, rather: increased effectiveness through increased efficiency.
An individual body is inserted/implicated into this seriation of time—i.e. body and time are linked—through the procedure that Foucault calls exercise. Foucault explains:
Exercise is that technique by which one imposes on the body tasks that are both repetitive and different, but always graduated. By bending behavior towards a terminal state, exercise makes possible a perpetual characterization of the individual either in relation to this term, in relation to other individuals, or in relation to a type of itinerary. It thus assures, in the form of continuity and constraint, a growth, an observation, a qualification (161).
Exercise, in other words, assures that, through (seriated) time, the body (gradually) produces something (useful)—not to mention gets better (improves) in the activity (of production).
Fourth, the composition of forces (“to obtain an efficient machine”) (164). “The individual body [is made to be] an element that may be placed, moved, articulated on other [bodies],” i.e. the body is related/positioned in a structure (composed of other (individual) bodies) (164). As a “body-segment” (differential element in Deleuzian terms) it is inserted “in a whole ensemble [assemblage or even desiring-machine in Deleuzian terms] over which it is articulated” (164). “The time of each [. . . is] adjusted to the time of the others in such a way that the maximum quantity of forces may be extracted from each and combined with the optimum result” (165) (my emphasis). With a “precise system of command” (where “the order does not need to be explained or formulated [but simply . . .] trigger[s] off the required behavior”) “all the activity of the disciplined individual [is . . .] punctuated and sustained by injunctions” (166). Thus individual elements (of different kinds, e.g. bodies and times) are combined—composed—into a bigger assemblage that, compared to the individual working in isolation, achieves greater results.
To sum up: Discipline applies four methods to the individual body. It distributes individuals in space, placing them in specific locations such that one is more easily supervised and is useful where s/he is. It controls the individual’s activity, teaching him/her how to efficiently use his/her time and his/her body. It organizes the individual’s production, teaching him/her how to coordinate his/her skills and perform his/her actions repetitively and progressively such that s/he actually creates or does something. Finally, it combines the individual’s aptitudes with other individuals, such that the team formed obtains greater results than the individual producing alone. Thus is constructed the machine.
Or, in Foucault’s words:
[In terms of procedure,] discipline creates out of the bodies it controls four types of individuality, or rather an individuality that is endowed with four characteristics: it is cellular (by the play of spatial distribution), it is organic (by the coding of activities), it is genetic (by the accumulation of time), it is combinatory (by the composition of forces). And, in doing so, it operates four great techniques: it draws up tables; it prescribes movements; it imposes exercises; lastly, in order to obtain the combination of forces, it arranges ‘tactics.’ Tactics, the art of construction, with located bodies, coded activities, and trained aptitudes, mechanisms in which the product of the various forces is increased by their calculated combination (167) (my emphases).
In carrying out these methods (procedures + techniques), two instruments (devices (“tools”) and how they are used, i.e. apparatuses + their mechanisms + the style in which they are used; they are then used as the means to carry out the above methods) are employed. First, hierarchical observation. The idea is to perform “multiple and intersecting observations [. . . by] eyes that must see without being seen” (171). Central to the ideal is “the single gaze to see everything constantly, [. . . the] central point [that] would be both the source of light illuminating everything and a locus of convergence for everything that must be known: a perfect eye that nothing would escape and a center towards which all gazes would be turned” (173). This would carry out “an intense, continuous supervision” running through not only the product but the process, not only production but “the activity of the men, their skill, the way they set about their tasks, their promptness, their zeal, their behavior,” “running parallel to [the production process or the activity in question] throughout its entire length” (174). This mechanism is often achieved through (the creation/manipulation of) architecture (as in the Panopticon) (172).
Thus “a relation of surveillance, defined and regulated, is inscribed at the heart of the practice [. . .], not as an additional or adjacent part, but as a mechanism that is inherent to it and which increases its efficiency” (176) (my emphasis). In fact, Foucault claims that “by means of such surveillance, disciplinary power became an ‘integrated’ system, linked from the inside to the economy and to the aims of the mechanism in which it was practiced” (176). This is the first emergence of surveillance as a central disciplinary activity, which, in fact, later on is to overshadow punishment.
This mechanism of hierarchical observation—unlike the field (the enclosure) that it surveys—needs no supervision from above (that controls it, directs its every move, and which can then put the breaks on it). Once instituted, the mechanism, as it were, gains a life of its own, with the body (or assemblage of bodies) in question working like a self-operating machine—surveying itself. Foucault explains:
[The surveillance] was [. . .] organized as a multiple, automatic and anonymous power; for although surveillance rests on individuals, its functioning is that of a network of relations from top to bottom, but also to a certain extent from bottom to top and laterally; this network ‘holds’ the whole together and traverses it in its entirety with effects of power that derive from one another: supervisors, perpetually supervised. The power in the hierarchized surveillance of the disciplines is not possessed as a thing, or transferred as a property; it functions like a piece of machinery. And although it is true that its pyramidal organization gives it a ‘head,’ it is the apparatus as a whole that produces ‘power’ and distributes individuals in this permanent and continuous field. This enables the disciplinary power to be both absolutely indiscreet, since it is everywhere and always alert, since by its very principle it leaves no zone of shade and constantly supervises the very individuals who are entrusted with the task of supervising; and absolutely ‘discreet,’ for it functions permanently and largely in silence. [. . .] It is a power that seems all the less ‘corporal’ in that it is more subtly ‘physical’” (177) (my emphases).
Second, normalizing judgment. Foucault claims that “at the heart of all disciplinary systems functions a small penal mechanism” in which a discipline “establish[es] an ‘infra-penality’ (177, 178) (my emphasis). Infra- because disciplinary mechanisms focus on activities (considered as violations) not covered (i.e. not paid attention to and thus tolerated) by the law (i.e. the rules officially recognized and sanctioned by the State (the “head” managing society)). Thereby, disciplinary power distinguishes itself from legal/State power and establishes its own legitimacy—its own sovereignty—in a field/area it can call its own—thus creating its own dominion, complete with its own laws, standards, procedures, and objectives (178).
To describe this dominion, Foucault cites examples of disciplinary violations and punishments:
[The] whole micro-penality of time (latenesses, absences, interruptions of tasks), of activity (inattention, negligence, lack of zeal), of behavior (impoliteness, disobedience), of speech (idle chatter, insolence), of the body (‘incorrect’ attitudes, irregular gestures, lack of cleanliness), of sexuality (impurity, indecency) [. . . with punishments that range] from light physical punishment to minor deprivations and petty humiliations (178).
In passing judgment on certain acts (violations subject to infra-penality), disciplinary penality focuses specifically on “non-observance, that which does not measure up to the rule, that departs from it” (178). Disciplinary penality, in other words, targets non-conformity. Disciplinary penality, in yet other words, judges (an individual’s) deviation.
The response of disciplinary penality to deviation Foucault describes as “essentially corrective” (179) (my emphasis). Aiming to reduce gaps—to get rid of deviation, of difference—in order to get everybody, as it were, into the program, disciplinary penality “favor[s] punishments that are [essentially] exercise—intensified, multiplied forms of training, several times repeated” (179). Thus punishment is but “one element of a double system” together with gratification (179).
Disciplinary penality thus works on—accomplishes the differentiation of—not so much the acts but the individuals themselves, “their nature, their potentialities, their level or their value”—after which they (again, not so much the acts as the individuals) are hierarchized as good or bad, thereby creating a “distribution,” a ranking, that “marks the gaps, hierarchizes qualities, skills and aptitudes; but [. . .] also punishes and rewards” (181). Foucault calls this process “the penal functioning of setting in order and the ordinal character of judging” (181).
“This hierarchizing penality,” Foucault points out, has “a double effect”:
It distribute[s individuals] according to their aptitudes and conducts, that is, according to the use that could be made of them [. . . at the same time that] it exercised over them a constant pressure to conform to the same model, so that they might all be subjected to ‘subordination, docility, attention [. . .], and to the correct practice of duties and all the parts of discipline.’ So that they might all be like one another (182) (my emphases).
The double effect of disciplinary penality (in fact, of the exercise of disciplinary power in general), in other words, is individualization and conformity. Or, more precisely: (the exercise of) disciplinary power individualizes—to make conform; (the exercise of) disciplinary power normalizes through individualization.
Normalization is thus the objective (of the mechanism of normalizing judgment (that follows hierarchical observation)) (to which individualization is the key). Normalization is the goal, the motivation (to which individualization serves as the means). Normalization is the reason that deviations (or, more precisely, individuals who, in one way or another, are deviating) are judged, attempted (through punishment and gratification) to be corrected, and hierarchized: that is to say, to make deviants conform to everyone else supposedly already conforming (to the ostensible social purpose(s) (as defined and presided over by the State)), i.e. to make each and everyone “normal” (a category invented/appropriated by the State)—to normalize all (into/under that harmonious collective, the State). The goal, as it were, is to save everyone (from themselves!) who have strayed way too far and far too long—to reconstitute them as normal(!) members/elements/components of the assemblage called society (the social body, the state (presided over (don’t forget!) by the State).
In Foucault’s words:
The art of punishing, in the regime of disciplinary power, is aimed neither at expiation, nor even precisely at repression. It brings five quite distinct operations into play: it refers individual actions to a whole that is at once a field of comparison, a space of differentiation and the principle of a rule to be followed. It differentiates individuals from one another, in terms of the following overall rule: that the rule be made to function as a minimal threshold, as an average to be respected or as an optimum towards which one must move. It measures in quantitative terms and hierarchizes in terms of value the abilities, the level, the ‘nature’ of individuals. It introduces, through this ‘value-giving’ measure, the constraint of conformity that must be achieved. Lastly, it traces the limit that will define difference in relation to all other differences, the external frontier of the abnormal [. . .]. The perpetual penality that traverses all points and supervises every instant in the disciplinary institutions compares, differentiates, hierarchizes, homogenizes, excludes. In short, it normalizes (182-3).
Now (as already mentioned), normalization—i.e. the coercion to conformity (to uniformity, homogeneity, sameness)—is carried out (accomplished) through individualization. This seemingly paradoxical mechanism unique to (the regime of) disciplinary power explains Foucault’s assertion that “discipline ‘makes’ individuals” (170). Foucault clarifies:
In a sense, the power of normalization imposes homogeneity; but it individualizes by making it possible to measure gaps, to determine levels, to fix specialities and to render the differences useful by fitting them one to another. [In other words, . . .] the norm introduces, as a useful imperative and as a result of measurement, all the shading of individual differences (184) (my emphases).
Again: the norm introduces individual differences. Not: (the dismissal of) individual differences leading to the norm. But: the norm introduces individual differences—as a “tool,” a device to use for its purposes. In other words: Normalization through the analysis and exploitation of differences: Normalization through individualization.
And what are these so-called purposes? For what is normalization accomplished? If normalization can be thought of as a form—an empty form—what is its (substantial) content? For what does (the exercise of) disciplinary power normalize? Once individual bodies are normalized (a preliminary objective, as it were), what then? What to do with those normal(ized) bodies (the next goal, as it were)?
As established earlier: to render them docile. Normalization facilitates working on—doing something to—individual bodies. Once it has been achieved (even though not completely), docility—making individuals more useful at the same time more obedient (“Learn something, be able—but obey! (to learn more, do more, obey more . . .”)—is not that much further (from view, from grasp, from reach). So: (through normalization) make it easier to do something to individual bodies. And then: make these bodies themselves do something (productive + contributive (to the State)) (i.e. make them docile). Thus the machine operates, functions, works.
(Even though, following Discipline and Punish, I use the State as an example, it is not the only “individual” that exercises (disciplinary) power. It can also be an institution, an organization—or even (that is to say, especially) a person: i.e. any body capable of acting in an individual capacity (to then relate with other individuals, exercise power, experienced power being exercised on it . . .). These individuals obviously have different dispositions, manner of proceeding, and purposes. To use the last example: a person (an individual) can exercise discipline on himself, rein in some desires (themselves considered as individuals). As to whether this decision/act is good or bad depends on what exactly is disciplined, how much, for what purpose (and, in most cases, which individual—via the person—is really doing the disciplining) . . . It is thus impossible to make normative judgments on something as abstract a mechanism as power. Hence Foucault’s refusal to attach a particular value judgment (whether good or bad) on it. Instead, stress is put on power’s efficiency and effectiveness (economy), i.e. (the exercise of) power’s (creative) ability to do something, produce effects/results (whether they be good or bad). Moreover, even if we take it as the individual that primarily exercises power, surely not all that the State does (or intends to do) is bad?)
The techniques of these two disciplinary instruments are combined in a procedure specific to disciplinary power: the examination (184). Foucault describes that “the examination enable[s the central authority], while transmitting knowledge [normalizing judgment], to transform [individual bodies] into a whole field of knowledge [hierarchical observation]” (186).
This linkage leads (like a self-regulating mechanism) to the increasing sophistication of disciplinary power’s ways and means. Foucault cites as an example “the school, [which] became [not only the place for training/teaching/pedagogy but also] the place of elaboration for pedagogy” (187). The very same place/locale, in other words—and the very same methods and instruments—both for the exercise of power and—by collecting knowledge not only about its subjects (on whom power is exercised) but also about itself, its mechanisms, i.e. its methods and instruments—for its further improvement/development. Thus “the examination introduced a whole mechanism that linked to a certain type of the formation of knowledge a certain form of the exercise of power”—for yet greater (exercise of) power (187).







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