Forensic police search for evidence inside the Comptoir Voltaire on Boulevard Voltaire in Paris on Saturday, Nov. 14, 2015 | Kenzo Tribouillard, AFP
Two centuries later today, the differences between all premodern societies with all their voluminous plurality pale into insignificance in the face of the historical difference that now exists between us and them. Indeed, take into account that we are in the midst of a terrifyingly rapid sixth mass extinction of species across the planet – such an event having last transpired, at a much slower pace, 65 million years and several geological ages ago – and there is evidently no measure of the singularity of our situation. If anyone still entertains such a notion, it is an illusion that we live in the same world as our premodern ancestors – the very earth and its air is different today.
In an important sense, the discovery of this chasmic historical rupture should not surprise us at all: after all, haven’t we moderns always – that is, since the historical measure of the ‘modern’ has existed – thought of ourselves as being historically different from all peoples of the past? Hasn’t such a historical measure of ourselves always been essential to our very sense of our modernity? It only turns out that the historical was to have been a catastrophic measure: not the romance of the historical elevation and salvation of man, but the tragedy of his utter debasement and (possible) suicidal historical extinction.
It also turns out that we moderns were more right than we bargained for when we thought we were historical agents unlike all other peoples of the past because we were – through the sedulous aggrandisement and cultivation of our individual potential as much as through our national initiatives, movements and states, as well as through the resoluteness of our universal national will to transform our human condition – self-conscious makers of our individual and collective histories and destinies. It turns out that we are indeed historical agents – and then some: we are geological agents, even if not as it turns out, so terribly self-aware of the gravity of our gigantic deeds, the ultimate meaning of our monstrous actions.
Of course, the use of the first-person plural begs the question of who is the collectivity being referenced here? That is, who exactly is the human named – in the ‘anthropos’ as much as in ‘we moderns’ – for humanity itself is decidedly not one? It bespeaks some chutzpah that even as the credit for making the wonderful modern world is taken by the West, the blame for the unprecedented destruction it has waged is to be shared by all humanity, attributed to ‘human nature’ – which as everyone knows, is ambitious and selfish (to which we’ll return anon enough below) – no doubt the paradigm case of having your (world-historical) cake and eating it too.
Take into account that we are in the midst of a terrifyingly rapidsixth mass extinction of species across the planet – such an eventhaving last transpired, at a much slower pace, 65 million years andseveral geological ages ago – and there is evidently no measure of thesingularity of our situation.
In evident fact, not all of us are ‘self-conscious’ makers of our own histories and destinies in the same measure – indeed, the vast majority of humans actually existing over this time period cannot be said in any meaningful sense, to have made modern ‘History’ at all (and it is this history with a capital ‘H’ that is meant when one speaks of modern history, national or global – and to make this history, one has to have, as the American argot has it, ‘made it’ in History, individually and/or as a nation). I refer of course to the tremendous global multitude whom the great anthropologist of our times, Talal Asad, has called the ‘conscripts of modernity.’
Giving credit where credit is due then, the French environmental historians Christophe Bonneuil and Jean-Baptiste Fressoz propose a more precisely indicative neologism in their recent, The Shock of the Anthropocene: Earth, History and Us – a book of epochal sweep and brilliance – where they call it the ‘Anglocene’. Indeed, in the region of South Asia we know all too well, as do others in the lion’s share of the post-colonial world, that the English-speaking peoples, the Anglo-Saxons have of all, made the wonderful modern world in which we all live today. But let us not split hairs, and let us leave their family quarrels to the Europeans. Distributing the credit more evenly amongst them – and out of deference to all who would wish to be included in this august company – I propose that we call the current climato-geologico-historical period the ‘Goracene’.
For those committed to the integrity of the Latinate (such as the French, e.g.), this might be translated as the ‘Blancocene,’ which has the added advantage of connoting the erasive, not to mention the insipid, character of the age indexed, or alternatively, if one wishes to capture the darkness of the age, the ‘Occidentocene’ (others might adapt it to their own local idioms, e.g., Latin Americans could call it the ‘Gringocene’).
No doubt this new nomenclature will seem too radical ab initio, so for the moment, let us persist with the Anthropocene. It should be obvious even if it is not that no such monumental, unprecedented transformation in the place of the human in the order of nature could fail to have coincided with an equally extraordinary transmutation in the order of the human world itself. The identification of the Anthropocene immediately puts into perspective the fantastic global transformation of human cultures and societies in the modern period as having been, indeed, of a specifically geological scale, given its tectonic depth and expanse.
Over the past few decades in particular, but really throughout the modern period in the alienated minor discourses of modernity, scholars and thinkers across the fields and disciplines of the arts, humanities and social sciences have shown in one aspect of human existence after another, that the post-Enlightenment period marks a spectacular series of tectonic shifts in the landscape of human being, chasmic ruptures sending shock waves through the entire field of human experience and ethos in the age of their modernisation. With the identification of the Anthropocene, we now have the right term to recapitulate this change, to reiterate the measure of this fantastic (which is not to say, phantasmatic) cultural and social transformation: geological.