Emotions in intellectual networks (Randall Collins & Fire Emblem); tempora cum causis (13)

Ancient. Classes for the Spring 2020 semester began this week. I’m teaching Women in Antiquity (#womenancient) again, and a grad seminar on Roman Intellectual Life (#romanintellect). Here are the syllabuses for each of them: 

Modern. Intellectual and artistic life is often figured as solitary. And, yes, parts of it often are. There has to be time where you’re working on your craft, reading and studying and developing. There has to be practice. But the idea that there is one genius at work, a unitary soul, one which doesn’t rely on or need the presence of others feels fundamentally wrong. There is a social aspect to all of this. And an emotional one. In The Sociology of Philosophies (1979), Randall Collins consistently pairs thought with emotion in his analysis of how socio-intellectual networks form. There are at least three things which Collins suggests are needed for an intellectual interaction: 1) present individuals physically assembled; 2) shared focus and awareness of that shared focus; 3) shared emotional state, or mood.

We could really push back against the insistence that individuals need to be physically assembled (“face-to-face”); interaction rituals take place on the internet every day, where the embodied nature of human interaction is tested and extended. But an important part to linger on here is the function of emotion in creating intellectual as much as social structure. Awareness and self-awareness play a role, and emotions are a processing tool that allows mutual understanding and self-reflexivity.

Collins suggests that focus and emotion have a role to play in the empowering of actions (and texts/objects used in such action) and individuals alike. Ritual actions are “charged up” via repetitions which are needed to give them meaning; if they aren’t replenished in a timely manner, then they lose their significance (consider: going regularly to a therapist; to yoga; to a place of worship; to Latin class). Engaging in social actions regularly insists on their significance, and on the very significance of social interaction regardless of the activity; i.e. going to yoga is as much about communing with your social network and mutually affirming the significance of that shared focus as it is about the technical or spiritual actions involved.

Just as social actions need to be regularly “charged up” in this way (via repetition), so too, Collins suggests, do individuals need to be “charged up” emotionally. Collins writes (p23) that intellectual “encounters have an emotional aftermath”; an individual whose emotional energy is replenished is thereby empowered with charm and leadership capability, but an individal who is not emotional “charged up” will become demoralized — passive, depressed. The sliding scale of emotionality, Collins suggests, strongly impacts the individual’s ability to engage in the socio-intellectual structure which creates these emotions in the first place; consider: a beginning yoga student who feels alienated in their practice and does not feel adequately supported by their teacher; or a Latin student who is not given the emotional space to make errors by their instructor. Motivation is an extension of emotional state, and emotional state in intellectual networks consists in a relationship to the social structure (and hierarchy): the yoga studio; the Latin classroom. 

Interestingly, the theory of motivation and emotional energy in relation to the creation and development of community is a significant feature in Fire Emblem: Three HousesIn this game, you are a “professor” (of war), tasked with developing the skills of a group of students, each with their own personalities, desires, and talents. While you train your students, you must pay attention to their “motivation level” – the students individually have a bar with four “charges” of motivation, which you spend in distributing skill points. When student motivation is low, you can replenish their energy with a range of activities: share a meal with them, have tea with them, return lost items, answer their questions after class, etc. etc. This is actually a rather sophisticated reflection of a solid pedagogical theory: students will not progress and not level up unless you create an environment in which they become emotionally replenished.

Internet.

Excerpt. Randall Collins (1979/2002: 21): “Intensely focused situations penetrate the individual, forming symbols and emotions which are both the medium and the energy of individual thought and the capital which makes it possible to construct yet further situations in an ongoing chain.” 

Daily Life. Over the last two weeks I’ve been cycling as much as possible. I remembered that I had a copy of Eleanor Davis’ You & a Bike & a Road (Koyama Press 2017) and read it again the other evening. It’s a moving memoir of a solo cross-country bike tour. I remember following along on twitter back in 2016 when Davis posted updates as it was happening

EPEEa4eWsAUn9so

this is me rn
This is me these days.

On ‘self-care’ and ‘mindfulness’; Hayden White; tempora cum causis (12)

Modern. When new terms enter the contemporary lexicon, it’s natural to find them kind of annoying at first. (I remember when ‘selfie’ was new and now I have no shame in using it, or taking them.) I’ve been annoyed with two in particular: 1) ‘self-care’; 2) ‘mindfulness.’* Yes, part of the annoyance is that when new catchwords arise they seem to be everywhere; the combination of their novelty and their ubiquity is probably what really rubs me the wrong way. But also: a new term needs time and repeated use to develop meaning, and that process of negotiation can reveal subtleties which complicate the word’s original intent. And there are some reasons to be distrustful of ‘self-care.’ The whole point, as I understand it, of self-care as an idea is that you disrupt your work habits (which you’ve feverishly developed in order to become, or remain, gainfully employed in the unstable economic landscape of 2020) in order to spend some time doing things that you actually like, which make you feel rejuvenated, and return to you some of your innate creative abilities. Okay! Well, obviously, the first issue is that time to yourself – the time to contemplate, to ‘do nothing’ (see: Jenny Odell), should, by all rights, be a bigger part of our lives in the first place. Secondly, self-care is often pitched not as a rebellion against the commodification and infestation of our private lives, but rather as its tool; i.e. self-care is supposed to rejuvenate us so that we can get back to work. At the “Facing Race” conference (Nov. 2016), Roxane Gay put it well (paraphrase via live-tweet): “I can’t stand the phrase self-care. It’s what women can do, but don’t do. We do it so we can work, but what comes next?”  

Lastly, self-care is regularly figured as a consumerist activity; you should try searching “self-care face mask” in twitter. Self-care as the deliberate derailing of learned habits of overwork is itself a good thing, I think. But it’s hard to practice. And as a result, self-care has entered the zeitgeist as something quite frivolous, a superficial manifestation of something that is mostly invisible; a negotiation with yourself, and your self-perception. Likewise, ‘mindfulness.’ The point of this, again, as I understand it, is to consciously pay attention to what is happening in the very moment; including, if not particularly, your own internal, emotional landscape. To put it oversimplistically, we only really have what we are experiencing right now. Sure: we have indications of the future; and we have records of the past. But we are experiencing the present. Mindfulness as a practice is intended to remind us of this, and to encourage us to engage in the present fully, and to perceive its granularities. And to give us the ability to understand when we are being drawn into behaviours which are not totally within our control.

When it comes down to it, I love twitter. Over the years it has brought me community and a sense of belonging in a field that is often quite severe towards its members. I like its pluralism; I thank it for giving me more perspectives on certain issues. I think it can be empowering. In Classics, it’s where a lot of the social justice work starts. And because my personal life is deeply intertwined with my professional life, it has also been good for my work. I never want to write a screed against its use, and indeed, despite its documented toxicities, I still find myself encouraging people to use it so that they can get their work out into the world. But for all its functionalities, I don’t always like how I feel when I use it. I don’t like mindlessly scrolling; and I don’t like the possibility that at any given moment of casual scrolling, I can be made to feel all sorts of negative emotions that were not there seconds ago (and twitter privileges emotionally volatile content). It’s a turbulance which I volunteer for, but I don’t have to. I don’t have to participate in the parts that are engineering me.

I don’t want to leave twitter. I did a hiatus last summer to work on my book, and I hated it. As much as I want to have time that is my own, I also want to engage with the internet soul. So, here’s what I’ve been thinking. Snail mail (physical letters! some things, they tell me, still exist in “material reality”, whatever that means) only arrives once a day. You check it, and then you know what you’ve got, and there won’t be another thing to check till tomorrow. You get on with your day. But twitter (and email, don’t get me started) can come for you whenever you open that app. Sometimes, I think about social media in terms of the functionality of Stardew Valley. Long story short, this is a very charming, and calming, farm simulator, which operates on a calendar with days and seasons. Every morning when you wake up in game, the fruits and vegetables whose seeds you had planted previously have produced new growth, which you can harvest. But this harvesting should only take up a little part of the day. After which, you can explore the world, talk to the characters, maybe go fishing or mining.

Yes, it’s a farming simulator, but even this game understands there’s more to life than your occupation! I want to treat social media and work emails like this. Harvest (i.e. open, and deal with?) once or twice a day. What I’m doing right now is letting every twitter or email notification take my attention whenever it sends me something, and this is the equivalent of virtually sitting in my field and staring at my crops until they tell me I can harvest them. Actually, the more I think about it, video games in general have a built-in mindfulness which reality sometimes does not. You, the protagonist, receive missions, but you choose in which order, when, or even if you want to do them. You can dissent from tasks given to you, you can (usually) take your sweet time and indulge in as many side quests as you want. We can learn something from this. There’s an intentionality which we often (or at least I do, I’ll speak for myself) willingly give up. But you can always get it back.

* ‘Self-care’ as a term actually appears with the meaning ‘self-interest’ as early as the 16th c., where it was used by the English poet, George Turberville‘s translation of Ovid’s Herodes (specifically: 19.205). ‘Mindfulness’ too has a long history, appearing in English as “the quality or state of being conscious or aware of something; attention” in the 16th c. (see Oxford English Dictionary). These terms are ‘new’ to the extent that they have reappeared in the context of a specific socio-cultural moment, in which the modern human life is structured according to 21st c. philosophies of productivity.

Internet.

Excerpt. Hayden White 2010*: 114: “The kind of understanding we get from following his story is different from the kind of understanding we might get from following his arguments. We can dissent from the argument while assenting, in such a way as to increase our comprehension of the facts, to the story itself.” 

*repr. of “The Structure of Historical Narrative” (1972)

Daily Life. I recently fell in love with cycling again because of Boston’s city bikes. It’s good stuff.