ASSIGNMENT

NAME: HRISHIKESH SINGHA DEKA

ROLL NO: 191 (2016 BATCH)
PAPER: 6.2 (ARREAR)
CODE: A-16001, UNIVESITY ROLL NO: 0200

Critical essay on Deconstruction

 Deconstruction by its very nature defies institutionalization in an authoritative definition.
The concept was first outlined by Derrida in Of Grammatology where he explored the interplay
between language and the construction of meaning. From this early work, and later works in
which he has attempted to explain deconstruction to others, most notably the Letter to a Japanese
Friend, it is possible to provide a basic explanation of what deconstruction is commonly
understood to mean. Three key features emerge from Derrida’s work as making deconstruction
possible. These are, first, the inherent desire to have a centre, or focal point, to structure
understanding (logocentrism); second, the reduction of meaning to set definitions that are
committed to writing (nothing beyond the text); and, finally, how the reduction of meaning to
writing captures opposition within that concept itself (différance). These three features found the
possibility of deconstruction as an on-going process of questioning the accepted basis of
meaning. While the concept initially arose in the context of language, it is equally applicable to
the study of law. Derrida considered deconstruction to be a ‘problematisation of the foundation
of law, morality and politics.’1 For him it was both ‘foreseeable and desirable that studies of
deconstructive style should culminate in the problematic of law and justice.’2 Deconstruction is
therefore a means of interrogating the relationship between the two.

Derrida takes as his starting point the assertion that modern Western philosophy is characterized
by and constructed around an inherent desire to place meaning at the centre of presence. Put
simply, what this means is that philosophy is driven by a desire for the certainty associated with
the existence of an absolute truth, or an objective meaning that makes sense of our place in the
world. Derrida terms this desire ‘logocentrism’. Its effect is the placing of one particular term or
concept, such as justice, at the centre of all efforts at theorizing or interrogating meaning. The
term becomes the core around which meaning is constructed, the reference point that determines
all subsequent knowledge. Derrida highlights how logocentrism assumes the existence of set and
stable meanings that exist to be discovered. The way in which this term—the logos—is made
known is language, the translation into words of a concept or a way of thinking. This is described
as the ‘metaphysics of presence’—the way in which we make present the objects of our
thought.3 The logos represents nature, which is something different from the instituted form
embodied in language or in text. Crucial therefore is the idea of a rigid separation of the origin of
meaning (the abstract idea of justice, for example) and the institutionalization of that meaning in
‘writing’ (or law).

The idea of deconstruction is therefore concerned with countering the idea of a transcendental
origin or natural referent. It refutes the notion that it is possible to transgress the institution in
order to discover something beyond — the existence of an independent origin. This idea is
famously encapsulated in the phrase ‘There is nothing outside of the text’,4 which is often used
to summarise Derrida’s work. For Derrida the origin does not exist independently of its
institution, but exists only ‘through its functioning within a classification and therefore within a
system of differences…’5 In his own words, Derrida terms this phenomenon ‘différance’,6 and it
is this idea that forms the basis of deconstruction. Différance refers to the fact that meaning
cannot be regarded as fixed or static, but is constantly evolving. It arises from the constant
process of negotiation between competing concepts. Rather than pursuing the truth of a natural
origin, what deconstruction requires is the interrogation of these competing interpretations that
combine to produce meaning. The act of institution—or writing —itself captures this constant
competition between the differing possible interpretations of meaning within the institution. The
effect of the translation of thought into language is therefore to inscribe différance into the
structure of meaning. It simultaneously embodies the desired meaning as intended by the author,
and the constraints placed on that meaning through the act of interpretation of the text. In this
regard, meaning is defined equally by what is included in the institution and what is not. At any
one time, one concept will be dominant over the other, thus excluding the other. However while
the idea of exclusion suggest the absence of any presence of that which is excluded, in fact that
which is instituted depends for its existence on what has been excluded. The two exist in a
relationship of hierarchy in which one will always be dominant over the other. The dominant
concept is the one that manages to legitimate itself as the reflection of the natural order thereby
squeezing out competing interpretations that remain trapped as the excluded trace within the
dominant meaning.

In Positions Derrida explains how the first task of deconstruction is to overturn the hierarchy.
This is necessary to highlight the ‘conflictual and subordinating structure of opposition’.7 It
emphasizes the dominance of one particular way of thinking over others, and belies the idea of
fixed meaning, overturning, and therefore exposing, the existence of the binary and destabilizing
previously fixed categories of understanding. However this is only the first stage. Derrida
emphasizes how to remain in this phase is to remain within the oppositional structure, allowing
the hierarchy to re-establish itself. If deconstruction is limited to the simple inversion of binaries,
then inquiry remains trapped ‘within the closed field of these oppositions’.8 What this means is
that instead of making any real change to structural conditions, what is happening is simply
swapping the positions of dominant and subordinate, allowing the same conditions to persist. In
order to move beyond this dynamic, and to break open the structure itself, a second stage is
necessary. This second stage is where the indeterminate element of deconstruction becomes
visible. Rather than resting with the inversion of the binaries, and by extension accepting a
different manifestation of fixed meaning, the second phase requires us to step outside the
oppositions, to remain in search of new meanings, not by repeating ideas but by analyzing how
ideas are framed, how arguments are made. Speaking at the Villanova Roundtable, Derrida
described this as searching for the ‘tensions, the contradictions, the heterogeneity within [the]
corpus’.9 It is only through this element of endless analysis, criticism and deconstruction that we
can prevent existing structures of dominance from reasserting themselves.

In this context, deconstruction is concerned not with the discovery of ‘truth’ or of distilling
correct conclusions, but rather with the process of questioning itself. It is a process characterized
by uncertainty and indeterminacy. For this reason, Derrida explains, deconstruction is not a
‘method’, and it cannot be transformed into one.10 One cannot ‘apply’ deconstruction to test a
hypothesis or to support an argument. Rather it is an ongoing process of interrogation concerned
with the structure of meaning itself. As explained in ‘Letter to a Japanese Friend’, for Derrida
deconstruction is neither analysis nor critique. It is not done with a particular aim. It is not a
search for a ‘simple element’ or ‘indissoluble origin’. The consequence of this is that its value is
not linked to any subsequent reconstruction. As discussed above, it does not exist to take apart
one structure to replace it with another, but exists simply to reveal the inner logic of that
structure so as better to understand it. This has led to the charge that deconstruction is
insufficiently concerned with questions of justice and ethics. Derrida is clear, however, that
although deconstruction is not primarily concerned with advocacy or activism, nor is it nihilistic
or anarchic. It does not reject the need for law and institutions, but rather seeks to work within
those structures to reveal new possibilities. It consists of dismantling not institutions themselves,
but rather ‘structures within institutions that have become too rigid, or are dogmatic or which
work as an obstacle to future research’.11 Deconstruction is therefore an affirmative force that
opens up possibilities that have been suppressed by virtue of the dominance of one particular
way of conceptualizing justice.

Finally, deconstruction is not an act or an operation. Rather, it is something that happens,

something that takes place. It takes place everywhere. It does not require deliberation or
consciousness, but rather its potential exists within our structures of meaning. It is interested in
exploring and revealing the internal logic of ideas and meaning. It is concerned with opening up
these structures and revealing the way in which our understanding of foundational concepts is
constructed. This is internal to meaning itself and not dependent on external factors. What this
suggests is that the possibility of deconstruction exists within the structure of meaning itself,
within the structure of differánce, and is not something to be found and applied from the outside.
It is primarily concerned with understanding ideas, not with their application.

Deconstruction does not aim to provide answers. It does not seek to prove an objective truth or to
support any one particular claim to justice over another. For this reason deconstruction itself is
indeterminate. In Force of Law Derrida concedes that deconstruction is ‘impossible’. The
‘happening’ of deconstruction is not going to lead to a determinate outcome. It will not reveal the
one true meaning of justice that can be embodied in law. Rather, deconstruction requires first and
foremost the relentless pursuit of the impossible. What is ‘happening’ is not the pursuit of an
answer which marks the end of the inquiry, but rather the ongoing questioning that keeps our
minds open to the idea that there may be alternative views and understandings of the meaning of
justice. When seen in these terms, it is not a method but simply a way of reading, writing,
thinking and acting. Rather than seeking an endpoint or a solid conclusion, the means cannot be
distinguished from the end. The ongoing process of questioning is the end in itself. It is about
negotiating the impossible and the undecidable and, in so doing, remaining open to the
possibility of justice.