Sara Ahmed’s Queer Phenomenology: Orientations, Objects, Others (2006) is a remarkable book that delves into the mechanics of the world that we inhabit and also gives us room to reflect on dealing with this world. In this essay, I have summarized Ahmed’s understanding of the social world which draws heavily from phenomenology. Later, I have discussed politics, self-preservation, and the conduct of social justice based on Ahmed’s work.

Phenomenology and Queer Phenomenology

To start, Sara Ahmed views the social world through the phenomenological lens. She draws from the works of Kant, Heidegger, Husserl, and Merleau-Ponty to describe this world. She begins here because phenomenology understands consciousness as being ‘directed towards’ or ‘oriented towards’ something (Ahmed, 2006, p. 2). Consciousness does not operate on its own but in relation to other things present. Furthermore, Ahmed also appreciates the phenomenological argument that consciousness is embodied. Therefore, the lived experience of the body in which the consciousness functions is taken into account in phenomenological analysis (ibid). This embodied consciousness is directed towards/oriented towards the other components of the social world – (other) bodies, objects, and spaces.²

Another aspect of the phenomenological social world is the concept of ‘orientation’³. The phenomenological social world is not only meaningful, intentional, and functional, but also purposive, directive-driven, and orientated. When one is born, one is not orientated. Slowly, we start to acquire orientations that help us stabilize our understanding of the world and give us a sense of who we are, where we are, who are other people around us, what are the objects around us, what are we supposed to do, how are we supposed to relate and interact with bodies, objects, and spaces around us, etc. In other words, when we become orientated, we leave behind the state of disorientation. Disorientation, however, is not a state that we embody only at the beginning of our lives. We are constantly met with moments of disorientation (Ahmed, 2006, p. 5-12).

Bodies (rather than objects or spaces) have consciousness. However, objects and spaces contribute to the functioning of the social world. What motivates them to do so? What do we mean when we say that objects ‘leave impressions on bodies upon contact’ and that spaces ‘shape bodies’? One often enters a space that is already orientated. As this body continues to occupy the orientated space, it engages with the orientations. To fit in, the body may take on the orientations. This is how space shapes bodies (Ahmed, 2006, p. 52).

Space is not only occupied by bodies but also by objects. Orientations of a space seep into objects as well (ibid.). In fact, particular objects are present, and other objects are absent in a given space because of the orientation of the space (Ahmed, 2006, p. 86). The orientated objects also help shape the bodies that occupy a space. A body is orientated when it performs based on the orientations. The body repeatedly performs orientations that it has received from the space and objects within the space, using the space and objects. Ahmed understands the history of the social world as a history of repetitive, orientated performances by bodies through spaces and objects, leading to orientations being reinforced onto the spaces and objects (Ahmed, 2006, p. 56).

Over time, as bodies that are orientated, we can navigate our way around objects, spaces, and other bodies based on ‘memory’ or ‘habitual knowledge’ (Ahmed, 2006, p. 31). The phenomenologist recognizes this familiarity that steers us and ‘brackets’ it (Husserl, 1969, p. 16 as cited in Ahmed, 2006, p. 33). In other words, the phenomenological exercise involves recognizing that orientations are not natural but functional in producing the phenomena of the social world. Ahmed presents this practice of ‘bracketing’ (as conceptualized by her phenomenologist predecessors) as an important aspect of the phenomenological endeavour. She seeks to ‘queer’ the said endeavour. She argues that it is not enough to stop taking note of what the orientations are, what is the familiar, what is remembered, what is habitually known. We also have to pay attention to what is disorientation, what is unfamiliar, what is forgotten, what is habitually overlooked (Ahmed, 2006, p. 34). The norm of the social world is to leave behind queer disorientation and get back to seeing straight again. In that case, what is the relationship of orientated spaces, objects, and bodies to disorientated spaces, objects, and bodies? Ahmed considers two orientations that govern social life – compulsory heterosexuality (a concept by Adrienne Rich) and orientalism (a concept by Edward Saïd). Homosexuals (particularly lesbians) and immigrants are not simply disorientated but also, according to a ‘queer’ phenomenology, inform the orientation of the ‘orientated’.

Dealing with the phenomenal world

From the above discussion, it might be apparent that Ahmed invests heavily in the understanding of (the mechanics of) the social world. However, there are moments in the text that touch on dealing with this phenomenal, orientated social world as an ‘other’. For example, Ahmed shares an interaction with her new neighbour.

“Another anecdote comes to mind here. I arrive home, park my car, and walk toward the front door. A neighbour calls out to me. I look up somewhat nervously because I have yet to establish “good relations” with the neighbours. I haven’t lived in this place very long, and the semi-public of the street does not yet feel easy. The neighbour mumbles some words, which I cannot hear, and then asks: “Is that your sister, or your husband?” I rush into the house without offering a response. The neighbour’s utterance is quite extraordinary. There are two women, living together, a couple of people alone in a house. So what do you see?” (Ahmed, 2006, p. 95).

In this instance, the orientation of compulsory heterosexuality is being performed through the neighbour at/towards Ahmed. The latter is being subjected to the violence⁴ of the orientation in this instance. How would one deal with this? The violence of the orientation of compulsory heterosexuality manifests itself in multiple ways, Ahmed’s neighbour’s question being one of them. What does resistance towards this orientation look like? Does it always have to be productive? That is to say, does it always have to reform the other person through dialogue? Or is it okay to sometimes acknowledge that it is tiring to face this orientation all the time and then turn your back on it? Ahmed decides to rush into the house. Therefore, looking at this instance using the concept of orientation sheds light on the complexity and power of compulsory heterosexuality (or other orientations, including racism and Brahminism). These are not simply matters of opinion represented by different people but are orientations embodied by individuals, objects, and spaces. By extension, a well-articulated, perfectly crafted, and logically sound argument does not have the intended force always to resist or shatter orientations such as compulsory heterosexuality, racism, and Brahminism.

Orientations are self-affirming, self-sustaining, and hungry. Any act of resistance or opposition to these orientations will be classified as threatening, assertive, forceful, and political. Therefore, self-preservation and recognizing orientations for the power they hold is a part of resisting them. In other words, to prepare arguments regarding the demerits of compulsory heterosexuality, racism, or Brahminism to present them to an opponent verbally is not enough to resist these orientations. It is also important for resistance to consider how these orientations work, how they see ‘you’ as an individual or ‘your kind’, how they make you feel, and what they compel you to do. When one takes into account all of this, facing orientations can become overwhelming.

Being cognizant of how orientations work gives us clues regarding how they can be resisted and faced. An orientation sustains itself by repeatedly being performed through bodies, objects, and spaces. Therefore, a counter that intends to resist and change an orientation has to follow the same regiment of repetitive performance.

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When I was a part of a public university, there were many opportunities and instances where resistance to the violence of the right-wing government could be displayed. For me, it turned out to be a space for understanding myself and my politics. And then a pandemic hit. I went back home, and the politics of this once familiar space had to be learned all over again. At the beginning of the lockdown, I was trying to get into arguments and figure out how to win them. I won quite a few. However, at home, the orientation of being ‘good parents’ involves protection from traumas of the outside world. The suggestion that ‘good parents’ themselves can cause trauma is a ridiculous one. The orientation also involves lying to oneself about how fragile the illusion of safety is. That illusion is threatened if one asks too many questions – either of parents or the government. So, winning arguments regarding politics at home was immaterial because, in the end, I was ‘being negative’ and ‘hurting myself’. I was being ‘crazy’. ‘Everything is fine’.

I often think about Ahmed rushing into her home. I think about the importance of retreating and self-preservation because the alternative seems to be buying into the lies of violent, oppressive orientations.

But even though you have decided to take care of your physical and mental well-being, politics does not take a pause. Activists get arrested, caste atrocities continue to be on the rise, farmers die protesting against laws that threaten their livelihoods. How does one engage with this without feeling some kind of survivor’s guilt, without feeling crazy or desperate?

During my first year of my master’s in sociology, I spent an evening with a queer, Ambedkarite neuroscience student and activist. They were a year senior to me. They had had some experience publishing and speaking in the domain of social science. They could not stop talking about how violent social science can be, especially towards marginalized genders and castes, for the whole evening. They were not simply stating this. They recounted their experiences to back it up. They were being so…‘negative’. Towards my social science! A domain that I had decided would be my stomping ground for the rest of my life. But I did not say anything because they were right about the issues that they brought up. I had no defence. At one point, they noticed that they had piled so much on my shoulders that my knuckles almost brushed against the ground.

“Are you okay?” they asked.

“I am fine”, I said. I was offended by the question.

“If I have triggered you in any way, I will stop talking. I just need to know.”

“I am alright. And it’s not your job to make sure I am okay. So, it’s fine”, I said angrily.

­They responded by saying something on the lines of ‘they didn’t intend to trigger me, and if I was triggered, I should let them know’.

I want to reflect on this incident in the context of politics and self-preservation. This person was in the right. Yet, they were insistent on knowing whether they had crossed a boundary with me. How were they doing politics without going crazy or being desperate? One reason was simply that I was not a very resilient opponent. I found their experiential claims to be irrefutable despite my orientation towards social science. But if they were faced with a stronger opponent embodying an oppressive orientation, it might have been a tougher fight. From how this person was doing politics, I infer that there might be a golden mean (which is best suited to counter oppressive orientations) between complete apathy (not engaging with politics at all) and complete insanity (buying into malicious lies of oppressive orientations). Therefore, when we say that we are trying to ‘figure out our politics’ (notably, the expression of our politics through labour), our job is, arguably, to figure out what this golden mean looks like.

Sara Ahmed’s Queer Phenomenology has a great deal to offer towards understanding the mechanics of our social world. It also allows room to reflect on personal questions of ‘doing politics’ owing to the author’s experiences being an integral part of the work.

Endnotes

1. I begin the essay with these building blocks of the discipline of philosophy. This allows me to argue about how disciplines influence our understanding of metaphysics, ontology, and epistemology (specifically, understanding of what these terms signify). In doing so, I argue that conversations regarding dealing with the world that we study are often missing.
2. The distinction between bodies and objects can be made using the notion of consciousness. Bodies are conscious, whereas objects are not. Therefore, bodies have a ‘point of view’ (Merleau-Ponty, 1964, p. 5 as cited in Ahmed, 2006, p. 53). However, objects cannot simply be characterized as ‘matter’ (Husserl, 1989, p. 155 as cited in Ahmed, 2006, p. 54). Objects leave impressions on a body upon contact because they are perceived by the body (Ahmed, 2006, p. 54). Phenomenologically speaking, space is not simply a ‘container’ of bodies. Space shapes the body that inhabits it, while the movement of the body within space shapes the space (ibid., p. 53).
3. The meanings of orientation include but are not limited to meaning, intention, function, purpose, and direction (both geographical and as a directive/command).
4. A person orientated towards compulsory heterosexuality witnesses two people living together and postulates that if one of them is a woman, the other must be her sister or husband. Two women living together as lovers is not an option at all in the neighbour’s imagination.

Works cited:

Ahmed, S. (2006). Queer phenomenology: Orientations, Objects, Others. Durham: Duke University Press.

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Sujay Mungekar is pursuing an MPhil in Sociology from the University of Hyderabad.