Protect me from what I want

“We are living in a particular phase of history: freedom itself is bringing forth compulsion and constraint” - Byung-Chul Han (Han, B.C., 2014).

German philosopher Byung-Chul Han challenges us to question whether the promised freedom of ‘yes, I can’ is paradoxically constraining us and making us feel a compulsion to act in ways that are driving burnout and anxiety. We are constantly sold the mantra of ‘yes, I can’. If we only work hard enough, smart enough, and optimise our routines, bodies, minds and social networks, what we can achieve is limitless. But what is this way of thinking doing to our psyche? Is the Western modern-day compulsion to optimise every aspect of our lives what we truly desire? Or is this driven by our need to fit in and survive under modern capitalism? 

Han (2014) argues that the burnout society we live in represents a profound crisis of freedom, and that the anxiety, depression and burnout we see are signs that our freedom is changing into forms of compulsion. We check our phones compulsively, seeking that dopamine hit a notification provides, sending out vast amounts of personal data without thinking, which at best is used to sell us more stuff we likely don’t need. The huge amounts of data collected on us, allows for the messaging we receive to be uniquely customised to our preferences, and when this is replicated on a grand scale, it can be extremely powerful in shifting behaviour. By tapping into our often unconscious desires, we are sold not just products and services, but ideas and political positions, having significant consequences on our freedom. How much of our data and, thus, freedom do we give up for a little extra convenience or entertainment? How many decisions do we make compulsively rather than with considered thought?

Compulsion represents a loss of freedom. Like the addiction of a gambler or alcoholic, we have lost some of our autonomy when we fail to question if these are the choices we would truly like to make in those moments. Han (2014) describes the smartphone as the rosary beads of our digital devotion, constantly engaging us in a process of subtle coercion and control, keeping us always a little bit distracted from our true selves and desires. What would we want from life if we were not constantly distracted, sold to, and entertained? And in what other more subtle ways do we give up our freedom? 

Han (2014) argues we no longer see ourselves as workers but as entrepreneurs, a change which suggests more freedom. Are we not, after all, our own bosses now? In many cases, such as in the ‘gig economy’, platforms such as Airtasker and DoorDash offer individuals the opportunity to freelance, however, it’s increasingly proving to be a mirage. The real freedom, it seems, is for corporations to exploit their ‘freelancers’, unconstrained and free from the legal requirements of employment contracts. This shift in our way of thinking about ourselves and our work means that rather than seeing ourselves as a part of a collective, we see ourselves as individuals, as entrepreneurs, and as personal projects, to be endlessly worked on so that our ‘product’ is marketable and desirable in the employment market, or the dating market for that matter. The genius is that we are doing this to ourselves, so the exploitation is absolute, and the ways we might be exploiting ourselves become conveniently hidden from us. We might even passionately engage in this self-optimisation, turning ourselves into works of art, ensuring that we have the perfect lives, bodies and careers. When things do not go according to the vision sold to us, we turn our rage inwards, for who else is there to blame but ourselves when we have made ourselves into ‘auto-exploiting subjects’ (Han, B.C., 2014)? We fail to see how the systems have failed us because we live in a fantasy of ‘yes I can’, believing everything is possible if only we further optimise ourselves.

In fact, there’s a billion-dollar industry built around optimising ourselves. The self-help or personal growth industry seems to have an almost fanatical zeal towards self-optimisation and, thus, self-exploitation. Rather than hunting out sins, this new ‘religion’ hunts out weaknesses to optimise with protestant fervour; the new gospel is unlimited achievement (Han, B.C., 2014). Negativity and discomfort are seen simply as opportunities for more self-optimisation, but can we live entirely free from negativity? Can we live perfectly positive lives? Perhaps we can on social media, but in real life? Is this possible or even desirable? Isn’t negativity and discomfort part of the human experience, and if so, have we set ourselves up to always feel like we’re failing? How free can we be when trapped in this endless cycle of self-improvement?

Interestingly, freedom comes from the word for friendship (Han, B.C., 2014). To be amongst friends is to be free. Yet, today we feel more atomised. There is an epidemic of loneliness sweeping the West, with people feeling more divided and less connected in ways that matter. Our community spaces have been eroded, with many living in larger homes behind taller gates, cars having taken over the streets, where neighbours used to meet, and communal spaces have given way to shopping malls and car parks. We no longer need to rely on each other as much. If we need a meal delivered because we are sick, well, there’s an app for that. Why bother our neighbours or friends? But is convenience robbing us of opportunities for building deeper connection and community? 

“Idiotism represents a practice of freedom” - Byung-Chul Han (Han, B.C., 2014).

Philosophy has always been closely tied to idiotism, which is the practice of asking questions nobody knows the answers to or has even thought to ask (Han, B.C., 2014). It requires a refusal of conformity, an ability to step outside of the invisible boundaries society puts in place, and to be seen as perhaps strange or an outsider. 

There’s a wonderful analogy of a goldfish swimming around in a fishbowl asking ‘What is water?’ Philosophy can give us the tools to finally jump out of that fishbowl and see more clearly the form of the water we have been swimming in all our lives. It trains us to question everything we think we know and to let go of certainty.

If today’s milieu is defined by individualism, competition, and self-optimisation, what does it mean to step out of the goldfish bowl? How might we stop seeing ourselves as personal projects, always looking to optimise our lives and ourselves? The answers will likely depend on our circumstances; on what we truly want to prioritise in our lives because it is meaningful to us, what we are doing without thought, or simply because there is an expectation to. While pressure to conform will always exist, perhaps when we learn to identify the unrealistic or unhelpful pressures we place on ourselves, we might free ourselves to explore the parts of us that are strange, outside of today’s norms and perhaps allow us to reconnect to those parts that make us human. 

Reference:

Han, B.C. (2014). Psychopolitics: Neoliberalism and new technologies of power (E. Butler, Trans.). Verso. 

Image: Byun-Chul Han

Writer: Yuki Lindley

Editor: Megann Chivers