A Sense of Brutality: Philosophy after Narco-Culture
Carlos Alberto Sanchez’s A Sense of Brutality: Philosophy after Narco Culture carries out a phenomenological investigation of narco violence “outside the purview of [conventional] philosophy” that differentiates brutality from cruelty as it exposes the limits of violence itself. What is “the something more” of violence? What is “the unspeakable” and “the unimaginable” excess of violence? Sanchez explains:
Prying our concepts apart allows us to see that violence, when it is “irrepressible” (or “unthinkable” or “unspeakable”), is no longer violence but brutality; that brutality, as more than violence, is other than cruelty; and that, phenomenologically, brutality gives itself as that which oversaturates our concept of violence. (90)
For Sanchez, the specificity of “the historical event and social fact of narco-culture” demands a reflection on what philosophy means in its aftermath. The reviewers in this symposium ponder the implications of rethinking brutality in other contexts and aftermaths, which raise philosophical, theoretical, methodological, and anthropological questions: Is there a dialectical relation between ultra-objective and ultra-subjective violence within contemporary narco-history? What are the limits of derealization and dehumanization as frames for the conceptualization of brutality? What does positionality have to do with “speechlessness”? Is narco brutality a “difficulty of reality” specifically for secular liberals? How does the image of brutal death expose the insufficiency of the spectacle? How can technologically advanced states arrive at brutality through disciplinary power without necessarily using excessive force? How does brutality—as it both creatively and destructively constitutes modern culture itself—inaugurate a relationship between singularity and generalizability?
We thank the reviewers for their generous engagement and for expanding the conversation on violence. We specifically thank Nicola Hederich at Galerie Peter Kilchmann for securing permission for us to publish the image Muro Baleado by the Mexican conceptual artist Teresa Margolles with description notes from the artist herself.
Alberto Toscano
June 3, 2024
For what makes extreme violence extreme is in many ways its indissociable quotient of disutility. When, having endured accounts of extreme forms of torture to which people are subjected in ‘safe houses’ with no witnesses and in anticipation of certain death (such as we encounter in Rosi’s film) and we ask ‘Why?’ – ‘Capitalism’ is not a sufficient answer.
Darren Byler
June 7, 2024
Thinking in dialogue with Carlos Sanchez, and his examination of brutality in Mexican narco-culture, in this essay I will consider the image of the ducking detainees as a starting point from which to examine the particular scale of cruelty created in a Chinese carceral context, and how it can move into a broader life world and become a part of cultured thought.
Jorge Núñez
June 11, 2024
Sánchez’s philosophy steps into the visual ecology of drug trafficking to interrogate the extreme goriness of cartel massacres in Mexico. He investigates how an excess of violence makes certain acts of killing “too much” to be bearable, and how the breakdown of representational violence gives way to brutality. Brutality is more than violence, according to Sánchez. Its logic is neither instrumental nor universal.
Norman Ajari
June 23, 2024
It is only through the work of culture that murder is no longer an unpleasant necessity but can become a privileged place of human creativity through which one group sends subtle messages to another. Corpses become surfaces of writing, raw materials for crafts that express the fundamental values of a given society.
Lisa Stevenson
July 9, 2024
I read A Sense of Brutality partly as a call to pay attention to, and try to unravel, the specificity of the narcoviolence in Mexico and I wonder how ethnography, with its sustained engagement with lived realities on the ground, could help us here? For instance, at what moments in a life lived in the proximity of narcoviolence is one (perpetrator, victim, or family member) rendered speechless? And who is susceptible to such speechlessness?
Basit Kareem Iqbal
July 12, 2024
As Sánchez notes over the course of the book, this is not an ethnographic account of a bounded site. Brutality is instead “a function of our global culture and the economic and political scaffolding supporting most contemporary neoliberal states” (12); this book is a philosophical response to inhabiting a world of brutality. We are called to respond, Sánchez writes, because we live in that world, whether we recognize it or not.
Carlos Alberto Sanchez
August 4, 2024
These readers come from a variety of backgrounds: anthropology, political theory, Black studies, and philosophy. What began as a worry about the innumerable dead, victims of a “form of life” that is both a reflection and a transgression of capitalist modernity, has in their reflections, interrogations, and criticisms become a gift, something that goes beyond my specific philosophical agenda.
Table of Contents
Alberto Toscano
June 3, 2024
For what makes extreme violence extreme is in many ways its indissociable quotient of disutility. When, having endured accounts of extreme forms of torture to which people are subjected in ‘safe houses’ with no witnesses and in anticipation of certain death (such as we encounter in Rosi’s film) and we ask ‘Why?’ – ‘Capitalism’ is not a sufficient answer.
Darren Byler
June 7, 2024
Thinking in dialogue with Carlos Sanchez, and his examination of brutality in Mexican narco-culture, in this essay I will consider the image of the ducking detainees as a starting point from which to examine the particular scale of cruelty created in a Chinese carceral context, and how it can move into a broader life world and become a part of cultured thought.
Jorge Núñez
June 11, 2024
Sánchez’s philosophy steps into the visual ecology of drug trafficking to interrogate the extreme goriness of cartel massacres in Mexico. He investigates how an excess of violence makes certain acts of killing “too much” to be bearable, and how the breakdown of representational violence gives way to brutality. Brutality is more than violence, according to Sánchez. Its logic is neither instrumental nor universal.
Norman Ajari
June 23, 2024
It is only through the work of culture that murder is no longer an unpleasant necessity but can become a privileged place of human creativity through which one group sends subtle messages to another. Corpses become surfaces of writing, raw materials for crafts that express the fundamental values of a given society.
Lisa Stevenson
July 9, 2024
I read A Sense of Brutality partly as a call to pay attention to, and try to unravel, the specificity of the narcoviolence in Mexico and I wonder how ethnography, with its sustained engagement with lived realities on the ground, could help us here? For instance, at what moments in a life lived in the proximity of narcoviolence is one (perpetrator, victim, or family member) rendered speechless? And who is susceptible to such speechlessness?
Basit Kareem Iqbal
July 12, 2024
As Sánchez notes over the course of the book, this is not an ethnographic account of a bounded site. Brutality is instead “a function of our global culture and the economic and political scaffolding supporting most contemporary neoliberal states” (12); this book is a philosophical response to inhabiting a world of brutality. We are called to respond, Sánchez writes, because we live in that world, whether we recognize it or not.
Carlos Alberto Sanchez
August 4, 2024
These readers come from a variety of backgrounds: anthropology, political theory, Black studies, and philosophy. What began as a worry about the innumerable dead, victims of a “form of life” that is both a reflection and a transgression of capitalist modernity, has in their reflections, interrogations, and criticisms become a gift, something that goes beyond my specific philosophical agenda.
