Description
By: Evan Calder Williams | Series: Sternberg Press / The Antipolitical
On the forms of sabotage, insubordination, and invisible activity that evade the terrain of politics.
What gets stranded outside the borders of the political? Inhuman Resources develops an account of sabotage, insubordination, and the invisible activities that undermine the ideas of accountability and identification on which representative politics rely.
Drawing from histories of labor, disability, infrastructure, writing, and war, Williams offers genealogies of the tropes of paralysis and sabotage, which leave behind notions of public citizenship to reveal an “inhuman” agency that hinges on the unexpected friction between humans, materials, machinery, and other non-human life. Yet to detect this and move away from fantasies of clarity and visibility, we need to take cues from political and artistic practices that evade such legibility, and are attuned to what happens off-screen and without recognition.
Spanning an ambitious range of subjects—from prison architecture to digital animation, legal history to self-help books, and electrical blackouts to silkworms saturated with toxic dye—Inhuman Resources gathers materials for thinking differently about insurgent activity. This is a theory that does not privilege exodus, pride, or autonomy but instead takes shape inside the very processes, architectures, appearances, and systems it seeks to ruin.
On the forms of sabotage, insubordination, and invisible activity that evade the terrain of politics.
What gets stranded outside the borders of the political? Inhuman Resources develops an account of sabotage, insubordination, and the invisible activities that undermine the ideas of accountability and identification on which representative politics rely.
Drawing from histories of labor, disability, infrastructure, writing, and war, Williams offers genealogies of the tropes of paralysis and sabotage, which leave behind notions of public citizenship to reveal an “inhuman” agency that hinges on the unexpected friction between humans, materials, machinery, and other non-human life. Yet to detect this and move away from fantasies of clarity and visibility, we need to take cues from political and artistic practices that evade such legibility, and are attuned to what happens off-screen and without recognition.
Spanning an ambitious range of subjects—from prison architecture to digital animation, legal history to self-help books, and electrical blackouts to silkworms saturated with toxic dye—Inhuman Resources gathers materials for thinking differently about insurgent activity. This is a theory that does not privilege exodus, pride, or autonomy but instead takes shape inside the very processes, architectures, appearances, and systems it seeks to ruin.