In Conversation With Andreas Reckwitz

Andreas Reckwitz’s work holds special significance in contemporary discourse, and rightfully so: Reckwitz made a decisive contribution to the theory of late modernity. Late modern society has been developing in Europe and North America since the Eighties of the 20th century. In it, opposites are closely intertwined. Marlene Losch talks to Andreas Reckwitz about literature, sexuality, and the role of sociology in late modernity.

Marlene Losch:  Mr. Reckwitz, German publishers now have programmes that are more diverse than ever. Contemporary literature discusses themes that were previously marginalised. Topics like migration experiences, sexual identities, and class are all gaining visibility and agency. Autofiction is trending. Self-publishing allows for easy access to the public eye. Private and public spheres blur in the digital realm. The competition for recognition is omnipresent. As a sociologist, how do you view our times?

Andreas Reckwitz: The literary field is very particular, but in it, you can recognise some features of what I call the social logic of singularisation. It is typical for all of late modern society. That is also my theme in the book, The Society of Singularities. As a sociologist, my general aim is to gain a comprehensive understanding based on the many puzzle pieces of societal phenomena. I’m interested in the overarching societal mechanisms, which sometimes require new conceptual tools. Singularisation is one such conceptual tool that helps us understand certain things.

ML: Your book, The Society of Singularities, first published in 2017, is now in its 12th edition at Suhrkamp. You are a sociology pop star. Can you outline the concepts of singularity and singularisation for us?

AR: Singularisation means that uniqueness is rewarded in society. What we traditionally call individuality is somewhat related to individualisation, but I want to emphasise a different aspect here. Individualisation means that individuals are freed from social bonds. Singularisation, however, means the establishment of societal evaluation systems that worship uniqueness and look down on standardisation. Singularity reigns; anything that seems interchangeable, on the other hand, is met with disregard.

ML: Is that what’s happening in the literary industry?

AR: Yes, the literary field is one example. It’s a winner-takes-all market where only a few books succeed, receive awards, and maybe reach a large audience – these books or their authors are considered singular. Many books, however, attract little attention; they appear less interesting.

ML: Could we say that singularisation is individuality’s evil twin?

AR:  I wouldn’t put it like that. It sounds as if individuality were completely positive and singularity entirely negative. Of course, in modern culture, individuality is seen as a virtue. Regarding singularisation, I would say there are two sides to it. On the one hand, it contains all the opportunities offered by singularisation; one may be singular. This is perceived as positive. At the same time, however, it also comes with new societal expectations. It contains new categorisations and evaluation systems; indeed, it creates a new form of social pressure: one should be singular, otherwise one will be discarded! This is the case in the literary field as well as in other larger fields, such as digital culture or cultural capitalism overall. Opportunity and expectation are mutually contingent. I’d like to stress that singularity is a general concept that refers not only to individuals but also to things, places, experiences, and collectives. In late modernity, all of these strive for the unique. For things, it’s about special design; for experiences, it’s about special events. Even collectives are less interesting when they follow a general pattern.

ML: At the Berlin subway station Frankfurter Tor, stickers read: ‘You have nothing to lose but your chains.’ Can you tell us your thoughts on this?

AR:  I would phrase it like this: in late modernity, iron chains are simultaneously pearl chains – coercive and attractive at the same time. That’s what makes them so complex. In the old, industrial capitalism of factory work, there are obviously chains that subjugate you; yet inside the cognitive and cultural capitalism of late modernity, the chains are subtler and more ambiguous. That’s why I talk about iron chains and pearl chains, because hopes and positive emotions are closely attached to these constraints. These are the new constraints: you are expected to be singular, and if you are not or are unsuccessful in pretending to be, you risk being ignored or discarded. At the same time, however, singularisation is also enormously appealing. Take, for example, creative work, which always contains both. That’s what makes the matter and the criticism of it so complicated.

ML: Besides the public sector, Edeka and Volkswagen AG are among the largest employers in Germany. Does this contradict what you just said?

AR: When I say the social logic of singularisation is becoming stronger, that is, of course, just a developing trend. It does not mean that all of society already reflects that. There continues to be a social logic of the general, oriented towards standardisation. But the logic of singularisation tends to expand. For example, in the public sector, diversity now plays a bigger role. Also, supermarket chains now have their own product lines where they suggest uniqueness. At the same time, of course, there are still jobs that are extremely standardised; the service sector comes to mind. Yet in a society of singularities, these lose value precisely because they lack singularity. They appear interchangeable and not desirable. They also receive little social recognition.

ML: Do the singularised have good sex?

AR: I would say that sexuality, romantic love, relationships, and partnerships all belong to an area that is associated with the new middle class – those with a university degree and with a strong desire for and high expectations of singularisation. A universally valid blueprint of a relationship or a ‘normal’ sexuality that applies to everyone equally no longer exists. Now, the most pressing questions are: What will meet your individual needs? In what areas do you want to experiment? It’s about creating a unique relationship. Again, you can see how singularisation is both an opportunity and associated with enormous expectations, both internal and external. Experience must live up to internalised criteria – something like a feeling of satisfaction or authenticity. This can fluctuate strongly; it is very unpredictable. In this respect, the risk of disappointment in late-modern relationships is greater.

ML: Why does a sociological account of our society matter?

AR:  Sociology is the only discipline that starts with a strong concept of society and always considers phenomena as socially conditioned, as social and cultural phenomena. I do believe that sociology is indispensable. Modern society, the subject of sociology, is constantly changing itself through this very analysis. That is the challenging part. The aim of understanding the basic mechanisms, but also the inherent contradictions of modernity, has been my driving force from the beginning, and it still guides me today.

ML: What are you currently working on?

AR:  Currently, I am working on the book, Loss. A Fundamental Problem of Modernity. It is currently scheduled to be published in the autumn. The book will look at how modern society deals with the experience of loss. How does a society that is always striving for progress handle loss? I think that’s one of the central problems of our time.

ML:  Thank you very much for your time, Andreas Reckwitz.

As featured in SLEEK 80 – FORTUNE. Available in print and digital here.