Cognitive Mapping
Frederic Jameson adapted his notion of “cognitive mapping” from the work of the urban geographer Kevin Lynch. After interviewing hundreds of people and asking them to draw their own maps of the cities they lived in, Lynch discovered that people felt more alienated in cities without identifiable markers such as monuments, rivers, or identifiable buildings. Citizens of cities like Boston, who drew maps delineated by parks, monuments, and the Charles River, had a more developed sense of place and attachment to their city. Jameson considers these cognitive maps “pre-cartographic” in that they are subject-centred, rather than objective attempts to map an area. They are more “itineraries” than maps. He used this sense of cognitive mapping as a metaphor for the process that contemporary citizens of multinational capitalism must undergo in order to create meaning in our disorienting, postmodern world. In effect, he is arguing that we must figure out a way to represent the global, the national, the local, and the individual in an integrative way that makes sense of both the things we recognize as directly affecting us, and the unseen things that affect us even if we are unaware of their presence. He saw cognitive mapping as a way to bring meaning into the lives of peoples and communities who face the challenge of integrating the personal moments of their everyday lives with the impersonal forces of global capitalism. Essentially, this difficult task amounts to “representing the unrepresentable” – understanding a totality that is not fixed, concrete, or stable (Hardt and Weeks p. 22-23).
According to Jameson, the problem of representation began in the “monopoly” stage of capitalism. Although he uses Ernst Mandel’s periodization of capitalism, Jameson’s analysis is essentially spatial, since he argues that each stage of capitalism produces a space unique to it. The space associated with the classical or market stage of capitalism was the Cartesian grid, shaped by the influences of the Enlightenment that “disenchanted” the newly capitalist world: secularization, the transfer of use value into exchange value, the separation of subject and object, and the “scientific” separation of work into discrete phases (Taylorism). During this phase of capitalism, the figurative representation of the world was less challenging. This is the period of “realism” in both art and literature: a sense that it is possible to represent “reality” and to reflect the situation of a particular social class or individual in relation to history.
This sense of reality changes during the development of capitalism from the market to the monopoly stage of capitalism, or what Lenin described as the imperialist stage. To quote Jameson:
At this point the phenomenological experience of the individual subject…
becomes limited to a tiny corner of the social world, a fixed-camera view
of a certain section of London or the countryside or whatever. But the
truth of that experience no longer coincides with the place in which it
takes place. The truth of that limited daily experience in London lies,
rather, in India or Jamaica or Hong Kong; it is bound up with the whole
colonial system of the British Empire that determines the very quality of
individual’s subjective life. Yet those structural coordinates are no longer
accessible to immediate lived experience and are often not even
conceptualizable for most people (“Cognitive” p. 278)
The result is a situation in which the individual experience, therefore, is not strictly a “true” representation, yet any scientific or cognitive ways of representing the situation effectively eliminate individual experience.
Jameson argued that elaborate new strategies had to be developed to address this problem of representation, evident in new forms of expression. The allegory becomes an important form of playing with the figurative. Just as pre-modern societies used allegorical figures to represent the unknowable nature of god, so must artists of this stage of capitalism use allegory to show the unseen and the absent nature of the global colonial. Another common approach of this time is evident in the writing of Gide, Proust, James, Conrad or Pirandello, where these authors represent individual consciousness as a sealed world that relates to other subjective worlds as “passing ships” that never intersect.
This problem of representation is magnified in our contemporary stage of “late” capitalism. Jameson uses words like schizophrenic, disorienting, decentred, and fragmented to describe contemporary global capitalism: a place where the distance of Benjamin’s “aura” is obliterated; where all voids and empty spaces are filled; where we are constantly exposed to a “barrage of immediacy” with no intervening barriers. The only way to counteract the inevitable alienation of global capitalism is to engage in an exercise of cognitive mapping that allows us to imagine our unimaginable reality. Jameson uses the analogy of Althusser’s definition of ideology: “the Imaginary representation of the subject’s relationship to his or her Real conditions of existence.” In this sense, ideology is an imaginary representation that coordinates or maps an individual’s relationship or positioning to class relations, to the global, and to the local.
This brings us back to Lynch’s notion of cognitive mapping, since Jameson argues that we must effectively apply Lynch’s spatial notion of mapping to the mapping of our social and global totality. Failure to do so, he maintains, will be as crippling and alienating politically as the inability to cognitively map the city was for Lynch’s subjects. Jameson thus sees cognitive mapping as a critical part of the socialist political project and essential to any sense of agency or meaning in contemporary life, although he never provides any concrete suggestions of how this might be done.
Jameson’s ideas are relevant to our project in a variety of ways. On the one hand, we can conceive of the biometric equipment we are using as attempts to represent our physical reality to ourselves in a way that we grasp onto as “real” because it is scientific. There are examples in our using testing dialogues where participants effectively admit that the data seems meaningless to them, although they’re sure a “scientist” would be able to read it. On the other hand, we have also discussed using the data from the biometric equipment to reveal to participants how clearly inadequate it is as a form of representation, and invite them to create their own forms of cognitive mapping. In this sense it would be interesting to explore with participants the very notion that we do form cognitive maps, and allow them to develop mapping exercises themselves that are not just repudiations of the biometric equipment, but re-adaptations of it. Jameson argues that the use of technology in contemporary art is “a degraded figure of the great multinational space that remains to be cognitively mapped,” in other words it stands in for global capitalism and replicates our alienation from it. Is there a way to address this alienation, or move the technology into a cognitively mapped space that transforms it? Note that it is not necessary to move through a space to make a cognitive map, although moving through a space and mapping it could be used as a metaphor for the process he is talking about.
Jameson’s idea takes us a step beyond the scientific discourses inherent in biometric equipment, to their role in the space of global capitalism surrounding us. In his discussions of this “totality”, he provides an alternative perspective on our relationship to space and to the technology we use to navigate that space.
Bibilography
Hardt, Michael and Kathi Weeks. “Introduction,” In Hardt and Weeks eds. The Jameson Reader. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2000, pp. 1-30.
Jameson, Frederic. “Cognitive Mapping,“ in Hardt and Weeks eds., The Jameson Reader
Jameson, Frederic. Postmodernism: or the Cultural Logic of Late Capitalism. Durham: Duke University Press, 1991.