Voices off: Stanley Milgram's cyranoids in historical context

This article revisits a forgotten, late project by the social psychologist Stanley Milgram: the ‘cyranoid’ studies he conducted from 1977 to 1984. These investigations, inspired by the play Cyrano de Bergerac, explored how individuals often fail to notice when others do not speak their own thoughts but instead relay messages from a hidden source. We situate these experiments amidst the intellectual, cultural, and political concerns of late Cold-War America and show how Milgram’s studies pulled together a variety of ideas, anxieties, and interests that were prevalent at that time and have returned in new guises since. In discussing the cyranoid project’s background and afterlife, we argue that its strikingly equivocal quality has lent itself to multiple reinterpretations by historians, psychologists, performers, artists and others. Our purpose is neither to champion Milgram’s work nor amplify the critiques already made of his methods. Rather it is consider the uncertain, allusive, and elusive aspects of the cyranoid project, and to seek to place that project ‘in context’, whilst asking where ‘context’ might end. We show how the experiments’ range of meanings, in different temporal registers, far exceeded the explanatory rubric that Milgram and his intellectual critics provided at that time; and ponder the risk for the historian of making anachronistic or teleological assumptions. In short, cyranoids, we argue, invite our open-ended exploration of ‘voices off stage’ in social and psychological relations, and offer a useful tool for thinking about historical context and the nature of historical interpretations

Geography, death and finitude

publication-status: PublishedRomanillos J L, 2011. The definitive, peer-reviewed and edited version of this article is published Environment and Planning A, 2011, Vol. 43, Issue 11, pp. 2533 – 2553 DOI: 10.1068/a4474Copyright © 2011 PionDespite growing interest in the geographies of death, loss, and remembrance, comparatively little geographical research has been devoted either to the historical and cultural practices of death, or to an adequate conceptualisation of finitude. Responding to these absences, in this paper I argue for the importance of the notion of finitude within the history and philosophy of geographical thought. Situating finitude initially in the context of the work of Torsten Hägerstrand and Richard Hartshorne, the notion is argued to be both productive of a geographical ethics, and as epistemologically constitutive of phenomenological apprehensions of ‘earth’ and ‘world’. In order to better grasp the sense and genealogy of finitude, I turn to the work of Martin Heidegger, Michel Foucault, and Georges Bataille. These authors are drawn upon precisely because their writings present powerful conceptual frameworks which demonstrate the intimate relations between spatiality, death, and finitude. At the same time, their writings are critically interrogated in the light of perhaps the most important aspect of the conceptual history of finitude: the way in which it has been articulated as a site of anthropocentric distinction. I argue for a critical deconstruction of this anthropocentric basis to finitude; a deconstruction which raises a series of profound questions over the ethics, normativities, and understandings of responsibility shaping contemporary ethical geographies of the human and nonhuman. In so doing, I demonstrate the geographical importance of the notion of finitude for a variety of arenas of debate which include: phenomenological understandings of spatiality; the biopolitical boundaries drawn between human and animal; and contemporary theorisations of corporeality, materiality, and hospitality

The ghost of Spartacus

The spirits are, insists Derrida. Humanity is a 'series of ghosts' (Derrida 1994: 138). Since every identity has, beyond its actual existence, a virtual continuity with the past and the future, becoming 'can only maintain itself with some ghosts', certain others, who are no longer or not yet present but nevertheless real (1994: xvii). Indeed, any event, any occurrence of the new, carries with it an injunction to remember, to keep up the 'conversation' with the ghosts, although this conversation lacks reciprocity (1994: xviii). Every time one looks beyond the actual, present life, one evokes ghosts. Thus the tangible intangibility of the ghost never disappears; 'a ghost never dies, it remains always to come and to come-back' (1994: 99). With a spectre, after all, the question is always, at once, to be and not to be, actual phenomenality and virtuality (1994: 11, 17). In this sense all history is repetition, every historical gesture deals with a virtual idea, reiterating, repeating the ghosts of the past, in order to produce difference. How to repeat, then? How to speak of, with and to the ghost? Dealing with this question, the article focuses on Kubrick's Spartacus (1960), a film that seeks to look beyond its own society during the Cold War. In this, the film demonstrates, at once, a desire for repetition and its failure