Ivan Illich - Böcker

Dalmatian-Austrian philosopher, Roman Catholic priest, and radical cultural critic Ivan Illich is best known for polemical writings such as Deschooling Society and Tools for Conviviality, which decried Western institutions of the 1970s. This collection brings together Illich's shorter writings from his early publications through the rise of his remarkable intellectual career, making available works that had fallen into undue obscurity. A fervent critic of Western Catholicism, Illich also addressed contemporary practices in fields from education and medicine to labor and socioeconomic development. At the heart of his work is his opposition to the imperialistic nature of state--and Church--sponsored missionary activities. His deep understanding of Church history, particularly the institutions of the thirteenth century, lent a historian's perspective to his critique of the Church and other twentieth-century institutions. The Powerless Church and Other Selected Writings, 1955-1985 comprises some of Illich's most salient and influential short works as well as a foreword by philosopher Giorgio Agamben. Featuring writings that had previously appeared in now-defunct publications, this volume is an indispensable resource for readers of Illich's longer works and for scholars of philosophy, religion, and cultural critique.

The Loss of the Senses comprises seventeen essays that Ivan Illich (1926-2022) wrote between 1987 and 1998 and continued to edit until the end of his life. This collection is unknown to the English-speaking world.The essays cut across academic disciplines and range over different facets of contemporary life. Included among the many topics are the roots of the service economy, the history of the gaze, the idea of technology as a Western invention, and the co-related eclipse of the university and the text in the twenty-first century.Despite the variety of subjects treated, these essays cohere for two reasons. As Illich’s Deschooling Society and Medical Nemesis did before, they confirm that being immersed in a technological milieu disables our native capacities to learn, heal, and move. Furthermore, they imply that we must deeply historicize the present to rightly understand the nature and effects of present-day socio-technical systems.The Loss of the Senses holds up “the mirror of the past,” in which Illich recognizes the looming figure of the contemporary man without senses. He incisively argues that the techno-scientific cloud that now envelops us withers the realm of our felt experience. For example, our “age of the show” yokes the ubiquitous screen to an eye that can no longer see but, like a camera, can only record what it is shown.Illich also reminds us of the ever-present possibility of “ascetical practices” that can enliven our senses and thwart the dissolution of our embodied sensibilities.

The Loss of the Senses comprises seventeen essays that Ivan Illich (1926-2022) wrote between 1987 and 1998 and continued to edit until the end of his life. This collection is unknown to the English-speaking world.The essays cut across academic disciplines and range over different facets of contemporary life. Included among the many topics are the roots of the service economy, the history of the gaze, the idea of technology as a Western invention, and the co-related eclipse of the university and the text in the twenty-first century.Despite the variety of subjects treated, these essays cohere for two reasons. As Illich’s Deschooling Society and Medical Nemesis did before, they confirm that being immersed in a technological milieu disables our native capacities to learn, heal, and move. Furthermore, they imply that we must deeply historicize the present to rightly understand the nature and effects of present-day socio-technical systems.The Loss of the Senses holds up “the mirror of the past,” in which Illich recognizes the looming figure of the contemporary man without senses. He incisively argues that the techno-scientific cloud that now envelops us withers the realm of our felt experience. For example, our “age of the show” yokes the ubiquitous screen to an eye that can no longer see but, like a camera, can only record what it is shown.Illich also reminds us of the ever-present possibility of “ascetical practices” that can enliven our senses and thwart the dissolution of our embodied sensibilities.

Toward a History of Needs​ was first published in 1977.In these pages,​ Ivan Illich writes​ against the moral authority of professions, against economic “development” as an​ unquestioned good, against schooling as the privileged path to learning, against the​ subjugation​ of desire​ to​ needs, and against ever​ greater energy use. At​ first glance, much of​ this can seem passé. The prestige of the professions has withered; development is no longer​debated but assumed;​ education​ has​ migrated to platforms and certificates; needs have given​ way to desires; energy expansion is​ the unquestioned​ fuel for​ data centers​ and planetary​ competition.​It seems the world​ has​ moved on.And yet Illich’s critique has not​ dulled​ —​ it has​ sharpened.The first quarter of the twenty-first century shows​ that Illich​ did not​ misread industrial​ society.​ His​ warning​ that life without access to commodities​ and services​ would become​ “impossible or criminal” now reads less like provocation than description.​ Economic​ development has​ intensified the​ compulsory dependence on cash in a world​ without​ enough​ paid jobs​ —​ whether in the United States​ or in Uganda. Desire​ is no​ longer​ suppressed by​ need,​ but​ is​ the​ explicit product of​ algorithmic persuasion, w​hose raw material is the envious​ fear of​ missing out.​ Professional authority​ has mutated into​ legal​ power.​ In many​ Western​ cities,​ sleeping in vehicles​ or​ building informal shelters​ invites fines or arrest.​ Without credentials​ one cannot​ cut hair,​ practice medicine, offer childcare,​ or drive.​ Access to work,​ to​ health,​ to​ money,​ and​ even​ to​ leisure​ presumes continuous digital connectivity.​ Commodity dependence​ no longer needs to be sold as progress. It is​ increasingly a​ legal requirement.These essays expose the deep logic​ driving​ the mutilation of​ human capacities into managed​ dependencies. What has changed​ in fifty years​ is​ not the pertinence of the argument but the​ brutality of the system​ it describes.With​ characteristic understatement, Illich also gestures​ toward​ an​ ungovernable​ possibility:​ engaging​ debilitating​ systems​ by​ playing with them, by​ dis​-respecting them.If you think Illich is passé, try living without your smart phone for a week.

Toward a History of Needs​ was first published in 1977.In these pages,​ Ivan Illich writes​ against the moral authority of professions, against economic “development” as an​ unquestioned good, against schooling as the privileged path to learning, against the​ subjugation​ of desire​ to​ needs, and against ever​ greater energy use. At​ first glance, much of​ this can seem passé. The prestige of the professions has withered; development is no longer​debated but assumed;​ education​ has​ migrated to platforms and certificates; needs have given​ way to desires; energy expansion is​ the unquestioned​ fuel for​ data centers​ and planetary​ competition.​It seems the world​ has​ moved on.And yet Illich’s critique has not​ dulled​ —​ it has​ sharpened.The first quarter of the twenty-first century shows​ that Illich​ did not​ misread industrial​ society.​ His​ warning​ that life without access to commodities​ and services​ would become​ “impossible or criminal” now reads less like provocation than description.​ Economic​ development has​ intensified the​ compulsory dependence on cash in a world​ without​ enough​ paid jobs​ —​ whether in the United States​ or in Uganda. Desire​ is no​ longer​ suppressed by​ need,​ but​ is​ the​ explicit product of​ algorithmic persuasion, w​hose raw material is the envious​ fear of​ missing out.​ Professional authority​ has mutated into​ legal​ power.​ In many​ Western​ cities,​ sleeping in vehicles​ or​ building informal shelters​ invites fines or arrest.​ Without credentials​ one cannot​ cut hair,​ practice medicine, offer childcare,​ or drive.​ Access to work,​ to​ health,​ to​ money,​ and​ even​ to​ leisure​ presumes continuous digital connectivity.​ Commodity dependence​ no longer needs to be sold as progress. It is​ increasingly a​ legal requirement.These essays expose the deep logic​ driving​ the mutilation of​ human capacities into managed​ dependencies. What has changed​ in fifty years​ is​ not the pertinence of the argument but the​ brutality of the system​ it describes.With​ characteristic understatement, Illich also gestures​ toward​ an​ ungovernable​ possibility:​ engaging​ debilitating​ systems​ by​ playing with them, by​ dis​-respecting them.If you think Illich is passé, try living without your smart phone for a week.