"I believe that ghosts are part of the future"
- Jacques Derrida
I first came across the philosophy of Hauntology through David Stubbs' brilliant, fascinating book on the history of electronic music, Mars by 1980, and it is a concept that seems to carry more significance with each passing day. In essence, hauntology is the belief that we are accompanied by the ghosts of paths we could have taken, but didn't, in all realms of our lives: politically, individually, technologically, culturally and literally; essentially, every single area of our lives. It's often described as 'Nostalgia for Lost Futures', and Derrida sums up this feeling with the provocative statement, "To Be is to be Haunted." Of course, anyone who has the courage to really delve into their life and analyse where decisions were made or not made, will understand that this is an inevitable truth of our existence. With every path we take, we basically sacrifice whatever would have happened to us if we had decided on any other course. But that doesn't mean to say that we have to feel despair about the decisions we did make. It is simply an unavoidable reality in our lives. For it is equally true that if we had taken the other path at key moments, perhaps none of us would now be in the situations we currently find ourselves in, meaning that we would have sacrificed whatever we have now for the other reality we had chosen. So, in this respect, it is more about acknowledging these head-spinning, uncanny and unavoidable facts of our existence, and accepting the unconscious residue of the feelings of loss that will inevitably linger and remain. And even though I truly adore the life I have, despite my CF, which causes so much trouble and worry, I think I have actually got most of the big calls right, but there are most definitely areas where I can and need to improve greatly, and I do occasionally still have sleepless nights over something I said or didn't say in the past, with some of the instances I find myself contemplating often taking me back decades. But this realisation, I hope, has helped me to grow and learn. This way of thinking also makes a mockery of that pronouncement that I have been so often subjected to, by people who felt so proud of themselves as they said it and which they tried to convince both me and themselves contained such deep, spiritual wisdom, but which is actually a banal inanity: "I have no regrets." Excuse me, dear reader, but in my opinion, this is bullshit. A person who genuinely believed that would surely be just admitting that they actually have no genuine understanding of how life really works. In my view, it is surely a rather blinkered and self-satisfied idea to believe, and is perhaps, more accurately, simply a wilful denial of acknowledging mistakes, and the hurt we may have caused others, as this is pretty much unavoidable at some stages in our lives. But, in the main, whenever I think about my life and the things that have happened, I think and hope that I've got many things right. Especially, thank goodness, some of the very major decisions. But there are many instances where I most definitely do have regrets, and wish I'd done things a bit differently. Made more visits and phone calls to my Mum in the months before she passed away, for example, and some of the things I said to my Taid when he was approaching the end of his life, seem to me now to be woefully inadequate and naïve, considering the shattering, and ultimately sacred moment that is a human life reaching its end. I guess, looking back, I now realise that I actually just didn't have the intellectual or emotional maturity, or life experience, to deal with such a situation, especially as I too was enveloped by grief, as my Taid was a father figure to me, and one of the best friends I have ever had. But, sadly, I actually cringe slightly at some of the things I said at the time. I so deeply wish I could have done things better.
There have also been times when I have said ignorant, hurtful things to people I love, or didn't stand up for people I love, or myself, and those occasions will haunt me to the grave. Having CF, and suffering from PTSD because of childhood trauma, has certainly not helped me either, as when I need to make a split second decision around a new situation, I can quite literally freeze with fear in case I make the incorrect one, simply terrified that the one I choose could then turn out to be catastrophic. Which, in a sense, is Hauntology in advance, as I am fearful that it will be that one decision which will then lead to a reality that I didn't want, and which could have been avoided. But, obviously, without a crystal ball, I have no idea which road to take, and that sense of fear, which mainly comes form me being forced to make almost unthinkable choices when I was a boy, can manifest just as strongly now. As you can see, PTSD is truly an abominable thing to have to live with. And, then, of course, and this is where hauntology really speaks to my heart and soul, is the larger, societal, universal level of our existence. For this is pretty much punching each and every one of us in the face, every single day at this current historical moment. For as the Tories sadistically Slash 'n' Burn our entire social fabric, the thought that so much of this could have been avoided if we had only voted for Jeremy Corbyn's Labour Party in 2019, strikes at the very heart of Hauntology. I voted for Labour in 2019 with a hope in my heart for our society that I'd never experienced before or have done since. (I mean,Tory-lite, Sir Keir Starmer... give me a break.) But Jeremy Corbyn's bold and audacious proposals could have genuinely made our society a fairer, safer, more flourishing and less divided space. Of course, the neoliberal extremists knew this, they knew that if his ideas worked it would transform people's lived realities and thought processes, and that their dog eat dog, capitalist, race to the bottom ideologies, which are so ingrained in our unconscious minds, would then begin to crumble, and that is why they then systematically destroyed any chance Corbyn had of winning, by either sabotaging him from within (the despicable, treacherous right wing of the Labour Party), and from without, which saw a hate, lies and smear campaign by the Murdoch press and the majority of the mainstream media that would have even made fucking Goebbels go green with envy. And look where all this has led us. One of the highest numbers of Covid deaths in the world, an NHS that is being ideologically underfunded, to a degree that will no doubt lead to people dying who otherwise wouldn't if this situation wasn't happening, mainly due to A&E and/or ambulance waiting times, and a general lack of proper care. The private utilities companies are basically holding us at gun point like fucking highwaymen from ages past, demanding that we, "Stand & Deliver, Your money or your life!" (Which will quite possibly be literally true for many this winter. But unlike Adam Ant, the utility business CEOs are all soulless, brute Philistines without a shred of art or style in their psyches, and most definitely not dandy). And, on top of all of this, the now impossible to ignore threat of the climate emergency. But with a different approach, and with one that acknowledged just how great a miracle it is that we and any life exists at all, on this beautiful, battered, fragile planet, and surely all of these situations would be very different. This is where Hauntology comes in, and it is speaking to me on a very deep philosophical level at this present time. I think these two pictures probably sum up the situation in a rather succinct way, because we got this spoilt, narcissistic, completely out of his depth chancer...
When we could have had this dignified, intelligent statesman, who, although he has his faults (as do we all - none of us are perfect, darlings), admirably just wants to build a better life for the vast majority of human beings...
And although it is only quite recently that I discovered the term 'hauntology' for the emotions and sensations that it describes, I find it interesting to consider that I have actually experienced what has been called hauntology for most of my life, without ever having known that there was a philosophical term and theory for it, or for being able to understand it in the detailed way I am now exploring. And it is a philosophy that is engrained in so much of the music that I listen to and have listened to so deeply throughout my entire life. (And the literature I read as well, come to think of it.) As ever, art often gets there first and articulates the truths we hold in our hearts and unconscious, long before a sharp, philosophical mind then sees the links behind these feelings and is able to apply a theory to them. And hauntology strikes me as being possibly the key subject and motif of much of the post-punk genre that I love, particularly in the work of Howard Devoto's Magazine, who gives a pretty accurate description of the feeling of hauntology in this brilliantly observed verse from 'You Never Knew Me', which is on their The Correct Use of Soap album:
This sense of questioning oneself, and which in this instance is a pretty deep doubt, not only on the entire approach to how the narrator of the song is living his life, but also, of fate, unease and the unfathomable strangeness of it all, is deeply embedded in not only this song, but Magazine's entire canon. In fact, this feeling, and a profound sense of the alienation of modern life, saturates Magazine's music and Devoto's lyrics. And it's not only just arty, post-punk singers and bands such as Magazine (and particularly Joy Division) who explore these ideas, for it is also a staple that can be found in abundance in shiny, mainstream pop music, too, such as in Cher's plaintive, but deeply human cry against the irreversible nature of time, and of being haunted by a decision made that the singer of the song wishes she could now undo, and which is, in effect, a howl of rage against fate itself:
The human anguish and desperate longing expressed in this simple chorus is truly sublime. And these brief examples simply confirm to me what I'd already known, intuitively, all along. Residing in the best and brightest artists, whether that be shimmering pop, rock, dance music, post-punk, classical, and pretty much every genre of music that exists, there is often written, and sung, deep, philosophical truths, that could, at first glance, seem to be merely throw away disposable lines, intended mainly for singalong, mass consumption. But how incorrect that view sometimes is. But then, I guess there are many people, especially the conservative, business-minded, sensitive as a house brick types, whom will never hear any of this - whether that be the feelings of longing and sadness that is hauntology, or the wonderful music that expresses it - in any sense. Somehow I just can't imagine Boris Johnson, or people like him, ever having moments of self-reflection over decisions they have made in the past, even if those decisions led to thousands of unnecessary deaths and a burning country.
But hauntology speaks to me only too clearly at this present, incredibly mournful period, as we stand by, practically helpless, while the powerful make decisions that destroy individual lives, the Social Contract, and, quite possibly, in all eventuality, quite literally all life on earth. And how we can not feel this happening? It is us. We are not separate from our struggling fellow humans. And we are not separate from the natural world, either. We are as much a part of it, and as reliant on it, as the humblest sparrow or earth worm.
Epilogue:
As I write this, I am sitting in my hospital room, having been admitted, twelve days ago, with a problematic issue regarding my cystic fibrosis that has required a pretty aggressive approach to treat, and which will require an extra three months of additional treatment (on top of the mountains of medications and treatments I already have to do) at home before it hopefully settles down. The room I sit in right now, as the second set of three intravenous drugs that I need to save my life are administered, over the space of three hours this afternoon, is as warm as a baking oven. I can only safely make it through the day and evening because I have a huge fan about three feet away from me on continuous full blast. The CF Team and the nurses, and cleaners and catering staff on the ward, are a wonder, spending their days in PPE in stifling temperatures. I have the utmost respect for them. But there have been numerous times during this admission when staff shortages, which resulted in nurses being drafted in from other wards, etc, has had a detrimental effect on my care, and which came close to being serious on a couple of occasions last week. But it is not those nurses who are specialists in other wards, and who have been summoned to this ward to make up the numbers, who are to blame. Oh no. It is our despicable Tory government that are responsible, and the unforgivable way they are treating the staff and the NHS itself, through deliberate, chronic, ideological underfunding. What is wrong with these vile vampires? Is the billions that they and their cronies already possess not enough for them? They make me sick with their pathological greed. I desperately hope they are run out of town before they can do any more irreversible damage. And then, of course, as I reflect on all this, hauntology strikes at my heart once more when I consider how different and better things would surely be if Jeremy Corbyn had won the 2019 election. Just imagine it, a fully funded NHS, Prioritised Social Care, the railways and utilities nationalised, less food banks, less financial stress for millions of individuals and families, (which would then mean less anxiety and depression in the populace, and that energy could then be transferred to positive, creative thinking and projects), genuine attempts to tackle climate change, less deaths from Covid, the list really is endless. But, sadly, that is a path this nation chose not to take, and now we are paying a devastating price. And this situation so clearly demonstrates that feeling of a 'Lost Future,' a deep sense of what could have been, which hauntology suggests actually clings to us, individually and collectively, like a shadowy presence in our hearts and minds, and this is the profound idea that Derrida so accurately summed up in his penetrating statement...
These two lovely pigeons in the picture above, have settled outside my hospital window to spend some time with me, every single day since I was admitted nearly two weeks ago. It is as if they have been checking in on me (even one of the physios noticed how they were actually craning their necks so that they could get a better view, and how she couldn't recall ever seeing any pigeons on this side of the hospital before), even though the area outside my room is only a bleak, industrial, Ballardian landscape, with precious little reason for them to be there, in terms of food, shading, or protection from predators. And thus, I feel truly honoured by their presence, and I have actually been fortunate enough to have had many wonderful and profound connections with our wild feathered friends, throughout my life. I just wish that I could get these two adorable scallywag pigeons a drink of water at this present moment, as they must be sweltering in the heat. But, sadly, hauntology is even colouring this magical, mystical occurrence in a kind of hazy, melancholy blue. Because I can't help but feel a great sense of sadness at the increased struggles they must be experiencing at the situation they currently find themselves in, (how they can find water and stay cool in this heat is a mystery to me), and, also, moving further into the future, of their chicks, and the generations to come, who will find things even more difficult as the climate emergency escalates. I just hope they can forgive us for what we have done, and are continuing to do, to what is essentially their world, just as much as it is ours. Even as an atheist, I could almost pray that they will be okay. Maybe they will find a way to survive, for, as William Blake wrote:
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