Derrida, “Differance,” Speech and Phenomena and Other Essays, pp. 129-160 Difference, pp. 129-140 Two meanings in French: To differ (difference as distinction), to defer, to put off to latter Derrida proposes to combine the two in the word, differance. This change of spelling cannot be heard in French. This lack of audibility points back to differance as prior to both difference and deferring There is here a fourfold claim: All conceptualization (all sense) is grounded on difference. All presence is grounded on deferring. Both difference and deferring, however, are grounded on differance. As such, differance is prior to both and as such cannot be explained in their terms Note: the argument here is Fichte’s: The ground (explaination) is distinct from the grounded (explained), if it were the same then it would be in need of a ground (an explanation). Thus, Derrida claims that differance, as grounding difference and hence as grounding sense (or concepts), is not itself a sense or a concept. Similarly, he claims that differance, as grounding deferral or delay and hence as grounding presence, is not itself something that can be made present. The point follows since time is required for something be made present, but time requires the spacing of its moments, and this requires deferral or delay. Without this, time would collapse. I will examine the arguments he makes for these claims in a moment. But first, let me remark that one way to way to think about this claim that differance is prior to both sense and presence is in terms of Heraclitus’s insight that difference is prior to identity. Reality, Heraclitus writes, is like the “back stretched bow.” It exists through the tension of opposites. If differance is prior to identity, then we cannot think of it as the difference between two already existing things. The things themselves are only possible because of differance. Thus, differance is not a thing but the ground of things. If thought is about things, then differance is unthinkable. If presence is the presence of things, then differance cannot itself be present. It is however possible to see what differance does through its effects—through what Derrida calls its “traces.” As I indicated, according Derrida, time itself is an effect of differance. Differance is the spacing that lets time be. This means that underlying the present instant is a divide, a difference, that makes the now differ from itself, and in doing so produce a new now. As Derrida puts this, “Time is the movement of this strange differance” (85). The differance is such that time’s presence is never all at once, but always deferred. By virtue of its grounding in differance, the presence of the time in the now is deferred to the next now, where its presence is deferred again. I will return to this argument in a moment, but first let me turn to language as an effect (a trace) of differance. Here differance, as grounding the difference between signs, makes possible language Note: the notion of language here is that of a code. It is De Saussure’s notion. According to De Saussure, the meanings of language are given by the differences between its signs. As Derrida cites him: “a difference generally implies positive terms between which the difference is set up; but in language there are only differences without positive terms. Whether we take the signified or the signifier, language has neither ideas nor sounds that existed before the linguistic system, but only conceptual and phonic differences that have issued from the system. The idea or phonic substance that a sign contains is of less importance that the other signs that surround it” (140) The point is that the meaning of a linguistic sign is constituted not by the object it refers to but by the differences it has to other signs. Here is an example of how difference sets up meanings independent of perceptual contents. You say “red” and see one color, I say red and see some other color. How would we tell the difference in our seeing? We could not if all our other color words were adjusted accordingly, i.e., if the system of differences maintained itself. The consequence that Derrida draws from this is that: “Every concept is inscribed in a chain or a system, within which it refers to another and to other concepts, by the system and chain of differences” It is not intuition that determines its meaning. Rather: “the signified concept is never present in itself in an adequate presence that would refer only to itself.” (140) Instead of intuition, difference determines the meaning. Note: if we grant this, then we have an endless chain of signs referring to signs. There is no intuition anchoring the chain. Differance, itself, as controlling this linguistic system, is outside of it. As Derrida puts this: “Such a play, then—differance—is no longer simply a concept, but the possibility of conceptuality” It is the ground that stands outside of the grounded It is then “neither itself a concept nor one word among others” (140). This is why it is misspelled with an a. How do we handle this differance? For normal philosophical discourse, the principles of such discourse are within it. They can be discussed through this discourse. But differance is not within discourse. As Derrida puts the situation: What I put forth here will not be developed simply as a philosophical discourse that operates on the basis of a principle, of postulates … and that moves according to the discursive line of a rational order” (135). It cannot since what is at issue is a transcendent truth outside of the sphere of writing. What remains is simply “a strategy without finality,” a “blind tactics,” One which “no longer follows the line of logico-philosophical speech …” What remains “on the even and the aftermath of philosophy” is “the concept of play,” “the unity of chance and necessity in an endless calculus.” (135) What does this concretely mean? It means that Derrida will not put forth positions, but rather deconstruct them. Deconstruction means finding the oppositions that structure a text, seeing how, trying to say one thing, it also says the reverse. What, then, is differance? Given that it is not a word or a concept, this is a hard question for Derrida to answer. He attempts, however, various answers. He says that the differences that permit language are “effects” of differance. (141) “Differance” is “the movement of play that ‘produces’ … these differences, these effects of differance.” “Differance is the nonfull, nonsimple ‘origin’; it is the structure and differing origin of differences.” (141). This cause is not “a subject or substance ... or a being that is somewhere present and escapes the play of differences” Note: if it were, then being/identity would be the ultimate ground, not difference. But what then is differance? Derrida says, “Let us begin again. Differsnce is what makes the movement of signification possible only if each element that is said to be present, appearing on the stage of presence, is related to something other than itself …” (142) The point: signification depends on something other than presence—i.e., on absence. As Derrida puts this in his book, Speech and Phenomena, “[t]he absence of intuition--and therefore of the subject of the intuition--is not only tolerated by speech; it is required by the general structure of signification, when considered in itself.” Derrida 1973a, p. 93. The term “metaphysics of presence” occurs on p. 51. According to Derrida, this structure is that of indication. Indicative signs stand for their referents. Substituting for them, they require their absence. Thus, when I hear another person speaking, I take his spoken words as signs indicating the presence of the person’s mental acts. Such acts are not present to me. If I could see them, if I could somehow enter the other’s head and observe his mental functioning, such signs would be useless to me. The possibility of language rests on our avoiding any metaphysics of presence and this requires our being “in principle excluded from ever ‘cashing in the draft made on intuition’ in expressions ...” (Derrida 1973a, p. 92). What is the origin of the absence that make language possible? Time. If there were no time, everything would continue to be present. It would be like freezing the movie on one frame. We could never refer to something in its absence. Time, however, depends on differance. On the now being divided, differing from itself. Let me now return to the argument that Derrida makes for this point. He writes: The present in time is constituted by a relation to “what absolutely is not—not to a past or a future considered as a modified present, but to non-presence pure and simple.” In other words, the present exists by virtue of the interval that separates the now from the past and the future. This interval is not the past moment or the future moment but rather the spacing between the present and such moments. This spacing is differance (it is not time, but a ground of time). The present moment is a moment by “an interval [that separates] it from what it is not, “[i.e., from the past and the future]. This division that makes time possible also divides the now. It makes it separate itself from itself so as to become a new now. The point follows from a paradox that Aristotle indicates. When does the now cease to be? It cannot be in the not now, i.e., in a past or a future now. At such times, it did not exist and therefore could not cease to exist. Therefore, the now must cease to be in the present. But this means, that the now is and is not—i.e., is and has ceased to be. This means that for time to occur, the now must be and not be, i.e., be non-identical with itself. Implicitly referring to this paradox, Derrida thus writes: “The living present springs forth out of its nonidentity with itself ... ” (ibid.). The now always escapes its identification with one position in time. Its being present is one with its departure from that instance. Its presence is mixed with an absence that makes it depart from itself as now. This division affects everything that is “in” time. Now just the now, but what is now must both be present (now) and absent (not now). So Derrida continues: “but the interval that constitutes it in the present must also divide the present in itself, thus dividing along with the present everything that can be conceived on its basis, that is, everything being” (143) With this, we have a new definition of differance: “It is this constitution of the present as primordial and irreducibly nonsimple [since it contains the nonpresent] … that I propose to call … differance” (143) What difference, then, means is that everything in time is self-divided. In particular, the subject itself is self-divided. It has no simple self-presence. It can know itself only through language. It has an indicative relation to itself, it knows itself through signs. As Derrida puts this, quoting Saussure, “language [which consists only of differences] is not a function of the speaking subject.” For Derrida, “this implies that the subject (… self-conscious) is inscribed in the language, that he is a ‘function’ of the language” (145). In other words, no language, no self-aware subjectivity. Corollary: animals are not self-aware. They do not have the language to present themselves to themselves. Differance 145-160 Derrida, we recall, asserts that differance is responsible for the now being divided in itself. This differing from itself means that it is both now and ceases to be now. It appears only to disappear. He, according, gives another definition of differance. It is the “constitution of the present as primordial and irreducibly nonsimple [since it contains the nonpresent].” If the present contains the non-present, then everything in time is self-divided. In particular, the subject itself is self-divided. It has no simple self-presence. In fact, we know that we grasp ourselves through our short term memories and our anticipations. Having departed from the now that we always inhabit, such memories can present ourselves to ourselves. They can stand against us, giving us an object to regard. The same holds for our anticipations. We can picture ourselves in the future. Husserl, the founder of phenomenology, also makes this point. We grasp ourselves not as we presently are but as we were a short time ago or we expect to be in the future. What this means for Husserl is that the presently functioning self is anonymous. As Husserl puts this, the self “that is the counterpart (gegenüber) to everything is anonymous. It is not its own counterpart as the house is my counterpart. And yet I can turn my attention to myself. But then this counterpart in which the ego comes forward along with everything that was the ego’s counterpart is again split. The ego which comes forward as a counterpart and its counterpart [e.g., the house it was perceiving] are both counterparts to me. Forthwith, I—the subject of this new counterpart—am anonymous.” Ms. C 2, pp. 2b-3a, Aug. 1931 Späte Texte, p. 2. The point follows because for Husserl the living self acts in the now that it inhabit. In his words, “I act now and only now, and I ‘continuously’ act” in the now. Ms. B III 9, p. 15a; Oct.-Dec. 1931. As he also describes my being as functioning nowness, my act flows away, “but I, the identity of my act, am ‘now’ and only ‘now’ and, in my being as an accomplisher [Vollzieher], am still now the accomplisher” Here, “I, the presently actual ego, am the now-ego” [jetziges Ich]” (Ms. C 10, p. 16b, Sept. 1931; Späte Texte, p. 200). In other words, I cannot act in the past or the future but only in the present moment. But the self that I grasp as I synthesize my memories is “is always myself, not as the primordium that I am, but rather the primordium that I was.” C 7, p. 21a-b, July 9, 1932; Späte Texte, p. 130. In other words, perceiving (acting) in the now, I can only grasp myself in the past. The self that remains now cannot be grasped as now, i.e., must remain anonymous since the materials for such perception (my memories) are not present but past. The focus here is on the present. The self that I am is, as acting, always now. This is why Derrida remarks, “The privilege granted to consciousness … signifies the privilege granted to the present.” Derrida’s focus is, however, the opposite. He wants to turn from “a philosophy of presence” to “a meditation on non-presence” “Speech and Phenomena,” in Speech and Phenomena and Other Essays on Husserl's Theory of Signs, trans. David Allison [Evanston: Northwestern Univ. Press, 1973] p. 63. The non-presence in the now (the fact that the now is divided in itself) signifies for him that the subject can grasp itself only through language. It has only an indicative relation to itself, it only knows itself through signs that point beyond themselves. As I cited Derrida, quoting Saussure, “language [which consists only of differences] is not a function of the speaking subject.” For Derrida, “this implies that the subject (self-identical or even conscious of self-identity, self-conscious) is inscribed in the language, that he is a ‘function’ of the language” (145). In other words, no language, no self-aware subjectivity. Now, there is a way that we can understand how language occasions self-awareness. Language is intersubjective. As such, it assumes the world that is there for all of us, i.e., is intersubjectively present. Prior to intersubjectivity, I have the perceptions that are true for me. My judgments are of the “I see x” variety. To get to the assertion of objective judgments, judgments of the type “there is x,” I have to assume that every one also sees x. It is there for everyone. Objectivity, then, is correlated to intersubjectivity Now, language is the only way I can share or experience intersubjective objects or events. This follows since I cannot see out another person’s eyes. I can only directly experience the world through my own senses This means that the public, there-for-everyone presence of objects, is linguistic. With language, then, I can become a public object. I can become aware of myself as an object there for everyone. I have the split between the subjective, true for me, and the objective, true for everyone of some object—such an object being myself. Self-awareness in the sense of being aware of one-self as intersubjectively present thus depends on language. Derrida, however, is advocating a more radical position. He argues that self-awareness depends on self-presence. But such presence as something given immediately in the now does not exist. (Here, he ignores Husserl’s argument that the subject’s self-presence involves his memories). Derrida writes, We might be tempted by an objection: to be sure, the subject becomes a speaking subject only by dealing with the system of linguistic differences … But can we not conceive of a presence and self-presence of the subject before speech or its signs, a subject's self-presence in a silent and intuitive consciousness? (146) Such a view equates being a subject with being self-present. As Derrida writes, “the subject as consciousness has never been able to be evinced otherwise than as self-presence.” (147) But Derrida will not accept that presence is the fundamental principle. Prior to presence is differance. All presence, then, is derived. Given this, he writes: “We thus come to posit presence--and in particular, consciousness, the being-next-to-itself of consciousness-- ... as a determination and an effect. Presence is a determination and effect within a system which is no longer that of presence but that of differance” (147). Derrida does not in his essay defend the assertion that our self-presence is a function of language and its system of differences. He does, however, hint at a strategy when he writes: “The use of language or the employment of any code which implies a play of forms—with no determined or invariable substratum—also presupposes a retention and protention [an anticipation] of differences, a spacing and temporalizing, a play of traces. This play must be a sort of inscription prior to writing, a proto writing without a present origin, without an arché” (i.e., without a beginning or principle)” (146) The point is that speaking requires time. We must retain (through retentions) and anticipate (through protentions) the different signs we use. Thus, differences that constitute time are presupposed by the differences that constitute language. Such differences, for Derrida, constitute a kind of proto-writing, a writing that is before the differences that constitute a language. Now, self-presence does require the spacing of time; it depends on retentions and protentions. If we call these differences a “proto-writing,” then we can assert that self-presence is dependent on writing—i.e., on this “proto writing.” Husserl, as we just said, is the one that asserts that self-presence requires time. The self that we grasp is a self that is departing in time. For Husserl, however, such departure does not depend on the difference that inhabits the now. For him, every new impression we register is registered as a now. A successive impression gives us a successive now. Thus, it is different impressions that give us different nows. Prior to difference are the self-identical impressions. We get departure through the retaining of the previous impression, which is also a retaining of the previous now. We interpret our fainter and fainter retention of the impression as its departure into the now. Derrida, however, will have none of this. The rest of the essay consists in Derrida’s pointing out historical antecedents for his position that the self-presence of consciousness is founded on differance. The first of these is Nietzsche. For Nietzsche, we have the assertion that “consciousness is the effect of forces.” Force, however, “is never present; it is only the result of a play of differences.” (148) This means that force only shows itself in opposition. I push against a wall to exert force. Without the wall pushing back, no force could be exerted. Thus, what we have is a dynamic of competing forces The dominant force sets the character for what appears Nietzsche applies this to his notion of our selfhood. He asserts in Will to Power that we have many souls, a social structure of souls (§49), He also affirms that the subject is a multiplicity of souls (§43), This means that it is a multiplicity of drives and emotions. The strongest is the one that appears. It is the one the most manifests what he calls “will to power. The principle here, as Derrida writes, is that “the difference in quantity is the essence of force” (§148). To eliminate the opposition of the forces is to eliminate force itself from appearing. Force only appears when it acts against some opposing resistance. So also in the self, the dominate element shows itself by opposing the others. Note: the model here is Darwin’s view of life as a system of struggle for existence It only exists in terms of the opposition. Taking Nietzsche as a antecedent, Derrida then has a new definition of differance. He writes, “We shall therefore call differance this ‘active … discord of the different forces and of the differences between forces which Nietzsche opposes to” the traditional metaphysics (149) The next antecedent is Freud. Freud’s interpretation of consciousness is, according to Derrida, based on the two principles of differance. The first is differance as delay or deferring. Thus, the ego in the interest of self-preservation delays its satisfaction of some of the demands of the id. This seem basically correct. The id, Freud writes, contains “all the instincts, which originate from the somatic (bodily) organization and which find a first psychical expression here [in the id] in forms unknown to us.” Basically, it forms the unconscious. We cannot give into its demands and function. Now, for Freud, the ego (the I or self) has to respond to the demands of the id and those of the real world—first of all the world of its parents. It can only satisfy its parents by repressing much of the material of the id. And, since it is dependent on its parents, it must do this to preserve itself. This means it must delay or defer the instinctual satisfactions that would follow by acceding to the demands of the id. Derrida cites Freud Under the influence of the ego's instincts of self-preservation, the pleasure principle is replaced by the reality principle. This latter principle does not abandon the intention of ultimately obtaining pleasure, but it nevertheless demands and carries into effect the postponement of satisfaction, the abandonment of a number of possibilities of gaining satisfaction and the temporary toleration of unpleasure as a step on the long indirect road (Aufschub) to pleasure. (150) The ego also substitutes a symptomatic satisfaction for a real one. The basis here is that of substituting a possible for an impossible representation. The latter is deferred (put off) in favor of the former. Thus, in dreams, according to Freud, we substitute dreams of running (or any rhythmic activity) for those of sexual activity. According to Freud, if one let the unconscious become fully present, the ego would be overwhelmed. It would become psychotic. The unconscious is an impossible presence since it would destroy the ego. Here, Derrida writes, we “conceive of differance as the relation to an impossible presence.” The ego has to protect itself from the “death instinct [that lurks in the unconscious] and [from] a relation to the absolutely other that apparently breaks up any economy” (150) Thus, the confrontation with the unconscious, “the establishment of a pure presence without loss is one with the occurrence of absolute loss, with death” (151) Why? Because if one let the unconscious become fully present, the ego would be overwhelmed. For Freud, the id or the unconscious “contains everything that is inherited, that is present at birth, that is laid down in the constitution--above all the instincts” Since this can never become present, then, as Derrida writes, “With the alterity of the ‘unconscious,’ we have to deal … with a ‘past’ that has never been nor every will be present, whose ‘future’ will never be produced or reproduced in the form of presence.’ We have only the translation of this into symptoms. But the symptom is not the unconscious. It is a trace that “cannot be conceived—nor therefore can differance [be conceived]—on the basis of either the present or the presence of the present.” (152). The point is that the symptom is the clothing of what itself cannot appear. Finally, we have the historical antecedent of Heidegger. The ontological differance is the difference between Being and beings Heidegger's claim is that this difference is always forgotten. We are always taking Being as some being that is present (155) We have a standard of being (a standard of reality) that we take from some being or type of being and insist on it. Thus, we take Being as God, as the life-force, as quantifiable material relations, as power, as will to power, etc. Each such conception of reality guides our behavior and thus shape the world that we shape through such behavior. History is, then, shaped by these standards we have for reality. Each standard determines an epoch. We move from standing out to standing open to standing in some conception of what Being is, each cycle determining an epoch in the history of being. What drives the cycles is the fact that Being is finite. This means that it can only appear perspectivally. It only shows itself as standard of reality. It can never appear as itself. There is thus always a difference between the aspect of Being that we grasp and Being itself. Being itself is an impossible presence. It is a presence that is continually put off as we insist on one standard of the real after another. In other words, the whole history of being shows the marks of difference and delay. The whole is controlled by differance. Thus, for Derrida, “differance (is) ‘older’ than the ontological difference or the truth of Being.” It is a “differance so violent that it refuses to be stopped and examined as the epochality of Being and the ontological difference” (154) PAGE 1