Showing posts with label deafness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label deafness. Show all posts

5 Nov 2024

Fear of a Deaf Planet: Or Why I Don't Like Alexander Graham Bell

David Call: George and the Dragon
 
"As long as we have deaf people on earth, we will have signs."
 
 
I. 
 
Putting aside the fact that I have a strong aversion to making or receiving telephone calls - due more to philosophical reasons tied to the question concerning technology, rather than to social anxiety - I still have good reason to despise the man credited with patenting the first such device in 1876; namely, Alexander Graham Bell.
 
For whilst this Scottish-born inventor was undoubtedly a man of considerable talent - responsible for groundbreaking work in many fields - he was also a fanatic advocate of oralism; i.e., the phonocentric insistence that deaf people abandon the use of sign language (or manualism as it was known amongst reformers in the 19th-century) and communicate primarily (if not exclusively) by mimicking the mouth shapes and breathing patterns of speech and learning to lipread.    
 
Advocates of oralism, such as Bell, whose mother and wife were both deaf - and whose father, grandfather, and brother were all associated with work on speech and elocution - believed that even those who were born without the ability to hear could - and should - learn to speak; that it was just a question of training (in much the same way as he had once trained the family dog to say How are you, grandmama?) [1].   

 
II. 
 
Now, as someone who has previously attempted to see the world through deaf eyes and opposed audism on several occasions - click here, for example - I obviously find Bell's work as a self-professed teacher of the deaf problematic. 
 
Particularly as he was closely associated with the eugenics movement, which feared the development of a deaf race which, it was believed, threatened the phonocentric basis of society with their sinister use of sign language. In order to prevent this, it was necessary to reduce the deaf race by preventing them from marrying and having children. 
 
To be fair, Bell didn't support the more extreme measures advocated by some. But, in lengthy essays such as Memoir Upon the Formation of a Deaf Variety of the Human Race (1884) [2], he did openly advocate for oralism and the banning of sign language within schools and wider society. He also wrote lines such as this: 
 
"Those who believe as I do, that the production of a defective race of human beings would be a great calamity to the world, will examine carefully the causes that lead to the intermarriage of the deaf with the object of applying a remedy." [3]
 
Utimately, Bell wanted the integration not the elimination of deaf people. Nevertheless, the image of an insular, inbred, and proliferating deaf race was a pernicious fantasy that was repeated for many years and such surdophobia [4] was carefully exploited by those promoting the ideology of oralism. 
 
Thus, Bell is not regarded positively by those within the deaf community today and I understand why deaf artists and activists, such as David Call, have depicted him in a less than flattering light, as the image above illustrates [5].
 
 
Notes
 
[1] Actually, it was a trick: having taught the poor dog to growl continuously, Bell would reach into its mouth and manipulate the animal's lips and vocal cords to produce a crude series of sounds. Listeners were then persuaded to believe that the dog was talking. 
 
[2] In this work, Bell issued a warning that deaf people were effectively forming an alternative society, by intermarrying and socialising with one another. Like others, he was even led to the conclusion that a deaf race was in the process of evolving - despite evidence to the contrary put forward by those who, for example, pointed out that although deafness can be an inherited condition, only a small percentage of deaf couples have deaf children.  

[3] The irony was that Bell was himself able to use sign language; even though, he strongly opposed it. In fact, his last word was signed to his deaf wife Mabel on his deathbed.
 
[4] Surdophobia is a term recently coined by Gardy van Gils, a deaf researcher at Utrecht University. She defines it as a form of hostile intolerance for deaf individuals, or an irrational fear of the deaf community resulting in opposition to the use of sign language. 
 
[5] This image by David Call - linocut on paper - was purchased by the University of Oregon in 2019 from the Eye Hand Studio. It shows the American educator, filmmaker, and activist George Veditz slaying A. G. Bell depicted as a dragon. 
      Veditz, the son of German immigrants, lost his hearing aged eight due to scarlet fever. He served as the seventh President of the National Association of the Deaf from 1904 to 1910 and is celebrated within the deaf community today as one of the most passionate and visible advocates of American Sign Language. His film "Preservation of the Sign Language" (1913) was added to the US National Film Registry in 2010. In it, Veditz not only makes a strong defense of the right of the deaf people to use sign language, but also talks of its beauty and complexity as a valid form of human communication. 
 
 

25 Feb 2022

I'm All Ears: Notes on the Strange Case of Momo and the Art of Listening

Momo bronze sculpture by Ulrike Enders (2007)
Photo: ChristianSchd (2014)
 
I. 

As many readers will know, Michael Ende - son of the German surrealist painter Edgar Ende - had a hugely successful career as a writer of fantasy and children's fiction, including the novel Momo (1973) [a], which concerns issues to do with being, time, and the stresses and strains of living in a consumer society.
 
The protagonist, Momo, is a mysterious young girl who possesses a remarkable ability to genuinely listen to others and who, like other children, understands that playing games, having fun, daydreaming etc., is anything but a waste of time.
 
Several philosophers have written in praise of the book, or drawn inspiration from it, including the Korean-born German philosopher Byung-Chul Han in The Expulsion of the Other [b] ...    
 
 
II. 
 
Thanks to our contemporary narcissism, says Han, "we are increasingly losing the ability to listen" [70] except to the sound of our own voice repeating within the echo chamber of an isolated self. 
 
Today, we lend no one an ear; that is to say, we no longer listen patiently and sympathetically, paying close attention to what is said and "affirming the Other in their otherness" [70]. And, on the other hand, no one listens to (or cares about) us - welcome to the digital madhouse and the hell of so-called social media (which is anything but):
 
"In analogue communication we usually have a concrete addressee, a personal counterpart. Digital communication, on the other hand, fosters an expansive, de-personalized communication that has no need of a personal counterpart, no need of a gaze or a voice. [74] 
 
You might feel you're at the centre of a global online community, but really you're in a void - or, if you prefer, caught up in what Han calls a shitstorm of affects and an accelerated exchange of information. Zoom might connect you electronically, but it simultaneously isolates you; it eliminates distance, "but gaplessness alone does not create personal closeness" [74].
 
And your friends on Facebook - well, they're not your friends; they're just like-minded individuals keen to self-advertise and raise their profile. 
 
We need, says Han, to develop a new political ethics of listening; to lend an ear to others and their language, their lives, their loves and fears, etc. We might simply call this compassion. And how do we develop such? 
 
Well, we might look to literature and characters such as Momo. She may just sit and listen to others, but Momo does so with utmost attention and sympathy and this has a magical effect: "She gives people ideas that would never have occurred to them on their own. Her listening [...] frees the Other for themselves." [76]
 
Han quotes the following passage from Ende's novel:
 
"Momo could listen in such a way that worried and indecisive people knew their own minds from one moment to the next, or shy people felt suddenly confident and at ease, or downhearted people felt happy and hopeful. And if someone felt that his life had been an utter failure, and that he himself was only one among millions of wholly unimportant people who could be replaced as easily as broken windowpanes, he would go pour out his heart to Momo. And even as he spoke, he would come to realize by some mysterious means that he was absolutely wrong: that there was only one person like himself in the whole world, and that, consequently, he mattered to the world in his own particular way. 
      Such was Momo's talent for listening." [77]
 
That's a good thing, I suppose - though admittedly I don't quite find this as moving or as convincing as Han. I wouldn't for example, speak of Momo giving back to people what essentially belongs to them and making some failure feel good about themselves, doesn't actually make them any less a loser.
 
Further, I worry that Momo is in danger of growing up to become one of those inverse cripples that Zarathustra speaks of; that is to say, a human being who lacks everything, except one massively overdeveloped organ, be that a giant all-seeing eye, or, as in this case, a huge ear that is open to every sound and sigh [c].  
 
Uncanny is the ear, as Derrida once said of what Freud calls the most obliging organ; the one we cannot close [d].
 
But isn't that the problem: we may have forgotten how to listen in the manner Byung-Chul Han advocates, but still the ear remains permanently open and thus all kinds of voices have easy access and we continuously receive all sorts of messages, including the lies of the State broadcast 24/7 via the news media, for example. 
 
Sometimes, one wishes not for a Momo-like ability to listen with compassion, but to be deaf to the world and able thus to experience the deepest silence [e].
 
 
Notes
 
[a] The full German title of Ende's prize-winning novel is Momo oder Die seltsame Geschichte von den Zeit-Dieben und von dem Kind, das den Menschen die gestohlene Zeit zurückbrachte [Momo, or the Strange Tale of the Time-Bandits and the Child Who Restored People's Stolen Time].
      The original English translation, by Frances Lobb, was entitled The Grey Gentlemen and published by Puffin Books in 1974. A new translation, by J. Maxwell Brownjohn, followed in 1985.     
 
[b] Byung-Chul Han, The Expulsion of the Other, trans. Wieland Hoban, (Polity Press, 2018). This text was originally published in German as Die Austreibung des Anderen, (S. Fischer Verlag, 2016). Page references to the English edition will be given directly in the post. 
 
[c] See the section 'On Redemption' in Book II of Thus Spoke Zarathustra
 
[d] Jacques Derrida, 'All Ears: Nietzsche's Otobiography', trans. Avital Ronell, Yale French Studies, No. 63, (Yale University Press, 1982), pp. 245-50. This essay can be accessed via JSTOR: click here.
 
[e] See the post: 'Dare to See the World Through Deaf Ears' (15 Jan 2013): click here. 
      One is concerned that there is both a phonocentrism and a form of audism running through Han's text, so pro-voice and pro-listening as he is. At the very least, we might question his privileging of speech and hearing.