Arkady Plotnitsky 

Literature Program
Duke University
aplotnit@acpub.duke.edu

 

and Richard Crew

Department of Mathematics
University of Florida
crew@math.ufl.edu

 

The following exchange between Richard Crew and Arkady Plotnitsky is in response to Plotnitsky’s essay, “‘But It Is Above All Not True’: Derrida, Relativity and the ‘Science Wars,'” which appeared in PMC (7.2) in January, 1997.

 

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A Response to Arkady Plotnitsky’s “‘But It Is Above All Not True’: Derrida, Relativity and the ‘Science Wars'” (PMC 7.3)

Richard Crew
crew@math.ufl.edu© 1998 Richard Crew
All rights reserved.

 

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I read with great interest Arkady Plotnitsky’s article on the science wars and Derrida’s use of the phrase “Einsteinian constant.” I agree completely with the complaints he expresses on the superficiality with which this and other aspects of the Sokal controversy have been discussed. Nonetheless I have some misgivings about the reading he proposes for this phrase, and in the application of it he makes to that controversy.

 

When he says, for example, that “As used by Hyppolite, the ‘constant’ here may not mean–and does not appear to mean–a numerical constant, as virtually all the physicists who commented on it appear to assume,” I cannot help feeling that his judgement is a little premature. In fact Plotnitsky characterizes his own reading as “tentative,” and admits (in paragraph 18 of his article) that “this alternative interpretation is not definitive, and no definitive interpretation may be possible, given the status of the text.” Actually, he proposes two related interpretations: the “Einsteinian constant,” in Hyppolite’s usage, should be understood as referring to either the Lorentz distance, or to space-time itself. He apparently views these alternatives as “conceptually equivalent,” since they are “correlative to the constancy of the speed of light c in a vacuum.” But if concepts that are “correlative” in this sense can be viewed as “conceptually equivalent,” then why can they not both be viewed as conceptually equivalent to the speed of light itself? Then the reading in which the “Einsteinian constant” is simply “the speed of light”–i.e., a physical constant–would be back in the game.

 

I think Plotnitsky is right in thinking that there can be no “definitive interpretation” of Hyppolite’s “constant which is a combination of space-time” or of Derrida’s rejoinder that “the Einsteinian constant is not a constant, not a center”: there is simply too little physics here to say what might be at issue. But nonetheless the reading “space-time” seems to be excluded by Hyppolite’s choice of language; if all he meant was “space-time,” then why does he use the more complicated phrase “constant that is a combination of space-time”? Perhaps this is why Plotnitsky suggests that Hyppolite is thinking of the Lorentz distance, while Derrida has in mind space-time itself. It might be thought too finicky to point out that there is no explicit textual license to bring in either of the concepts “space-time” or “Lorentz interval” into the discussion (though raising this objection would be consistent with Plotnitsky’s dictum that the reader should construe the meaning of the term ‘constant’ “from the text itself” rather than from one’s general knowledge of physics, c.f. par 12). But whatever Hyppolite may have had in mind, Plotnitsky rightly points out that the sense of Derrida’s assertion, “the Einsteinian constant is not a constant, not a center,” has to be determined from the discussion of the term “center” in the lecture of Derrida that he and Hyppolite are discussing.

 

Let’s now consider Plotnitsky’s reading of the “constant”:

 

...it appears to mean the Einsteinian (or Einsteinian-Minkowskian) concept of space-time itself, since Hyppolite speaks of "a constant which is a combination of space-time" (emphasis added), or the so-called spatio-temporal interval, invariant ("constant") under Lorentz transformations of special relativity. This interval is also both "a combination of space-time" and something that "does not belong to any of the experimenters who live the experience," and can be seen as "dominat[ing] the whole construct" (i.e. the conceptual framework of relativity in this Minkowskian formulation). (par. 17; the emphasis is Plotnitsky's)

 

One could observe that the Lorentz distance, considered as a function on space-time, is invariant under the group of Lorentz transformations, but it is not constant in the usual sense this has for functions (i.e. that of assuming the same value everywhere). But really, this is just a quibble; slightly more serious is the question of the sense in which space-time (as opposed to the Lorentz distance) can be said to be constant. It can’t mean “not varying in time” because time is internal to space-time. It can’t mean “invariant under Lorentz transformations” since space-time doesn’t really undergo Lorentz transformations; these simply describe how certain reference frames in space-time are related to each other. But Plotnitsky’s main point is that space-time, or the invariant distance, somehow illustrates Derrida’s notions of “play” and “center”:

 

The moment one accepts this interpretation, Derrida's statement begins to sound quite a bit less strange. It acquires an even greater congruence with relativity once one understands the term "play/game" as connoting, in this context (it is a more radical and richer concept overall), the impossibility within Einstein's framework of space-time of a uniquely privileged frame of reference--a center from which an observer could master the field (i.e. the whole of space-time). Even if my reading of "the Einsteinian constant" is tentative, the meaning I suggest for Derrida's term "play" [jeu] is easily supportable on the basis of his essay and related works. (par. 19)

 

and later:

 

One might, then, see Derrida's statement reflecting the fact that, in contrast to classical--Newtonian--physics, the space-time of special, and even more so of general, relativity disallows a Newtonian universal background with its (separate) absolute space and absolute time, or a uniquely privileged frame of reference for physical events. (par. 20)

 

In fact, whether or not Derrida really had this in mind, it is an interesting idea that deserves to be examined on its own right.

 

Let’s consider the last quotation first. One has to remark right away that the Newtonian “absolute space” and “absolute time” are not the same thing as a “uniquely privileged frame of reference.” This calls for some explanations. The sense in which space and time are “absolute” in Newtonian mechanics is the following: Newtonian mechanics assumes that it is absolutely meaningful to speak of two events as occurring at the same point of space, or at the same time. This does not imply a choice of a frame of reference. Neither do the laws of Newtonian mechanics single out a particular reference frame; this is all discussed quite clearly in the second chapter of Einstein’s Meaning of Relativity. There is no spatial “center of the universe” singled out by the laws of physics, or any intrinsic meaning to the words “up” or “down.” The laws of physics must be the same at all spatial locations and with respect to all spatial directions; Einstein calls this the “principle of relativity with respect to direction” (Meaning of Relativity 24). One next inquires if there is is a similar principle for observers that are in motion relative to each other. Here it is necessary to single out a particular class of reference frames, the “inertial frames,” and it is required that the laws of physics should be the same for any two observers moving in an inertial reference frame; this Einstein calls the “principle of special relativity” (Meaning of Relativity 25) and it is valid both in Newtonian mechanics and in the theory of relativity.

 

The difference between classical mechanics and special relativity can be seen when we ask how different inertial frames are related to each other. In classical mechanics, as Einstein points out, this problem is solved with the aid of the unconscious assumption that phrases such as “simultaneous” and “in the same location” have an absolute meaning; this is the Newtonian “absolute” space and time. One can then write down formulas for the relation between different inertial frames; Einstein calls these “Galilean transformations” (Meaning of Relativity 26, eqn. 21). For two frames related by Galilean transformations, accelerations are the same, and since the laws of Newtonian physics are expressed as relations between forces and accelerations, they are invariant under Galilean transformations. Now the problem treated by Special Relativity arises when it is observed that Maxwell’s equations for the electromagnetic field are not invariant under Galilean transformations. It would then seem that one could detect experimentally “absolute velocities,” and not just absolute accelerations; in particular, it would make sense to assert that some object in the universe was “absolutely at rest.” And, far from being a fundamental condition of the theory, this was thought of as a surprising prediction, to be tested experimentally.

 

The failure of such experiments led Einstein to abandon Galilean transformations, and to realize that the relations between different inertial frames must leave Maxwell’s equations invariant. By a well-known argument, he shows that the relations are given by transformations which leave invariant the Lorentz distance–the Lorentz transformations. One thus arrives at the concept of an absolute “space-time,” and of a class of inertial frames of reference “in” it, all related by Lorentz transformations. Einstein then showed that a suitable modification of Newtonian mechanics could be formulated in this setting, from which one could recover the usual mechanical laws when velocities were assumed to be small compared with the speed of light. This of course is the Special Theory of Relativity.

 

One can summarize the situation as follows. There is a principle of relativity in both Newtonian mechanics and in Special Relativity theory; neither theory has a “privileged reference frame,” though both theories recognize a privileged class of reference frames, the inertial frames. The difference between the two lies in the relations between the inertial frames; for the Newtonian theory, these are given by the Galilean transformations, which allow an absolute distinction between space and time. In Special Relativity, absolute space and absolute time are replaced by the weaker hypothesis of an absolute space-time, in which different inertial frames are related by Lorentz transformations, and in which there is no longer an absolute distinction between space and time. In General Relativity, finally, the notion of inertial frame is abandoned, though the notion of a physically meaningful space-time is retained.

 

We must now return to Plotnitsky’s assertion that Derrida’s remark refers to the circumstance that Relativity “disallows a Newtonian universal background… with a uniquely privileged frame of reference for physical events,” and that the concept of “play” that Derrida has worked out connotes “the impossibility within Einstein’s framework of space-time of a uniquely privileged frame of reference.” In fact neither classical nor relativistic mechanics singles out a uniquely privileged reference frame, though both of them single out a privileged class of reference frames. Now if, in the context of either theory, a “center” in Derrida’s sense is to be taken as a privileged frame of reference, and if (as Plotnitsky suggests) lack of such a frame is exactly the connotation of Derridean “play” in this setting, then classical mechanics would itself have to be described as a “decentered structure.” But Derrida’s essay makes it clear that a “classical” theory such as Newtonian mechanics has no business being a decentered structure. According to Derrida, decentered play only emerges subsequent to an event, the “rupture” that he evokes at the beginning of “Structure, Sign, and Play,” which he locates at a particular moment of European culture, roughly during decades surrounding the turn of the century, and he mentions the names of Nietzsche, Freud, and Heidegger; this is not the heyday of classical mechanics!

 

At this point a qualification is in order. It is certainly true that many classical physicists, Newton included, assumed it was absolutely meaningful to assert that an object was “at rest” or “in motion.” Doubts about this, however, surface as early as the first decade of the 18th century (Leibniz, in the Leibniz-Clarke correspondence). But the historical record is not at issue here: the point is that theory itself does not require such an assumption. Newtonian mechanics functions in the same way, and makes the same predictions, with or without the assumption that “rest” has an absolute meaning. (In fact, one of the predictions is that it is impossible to determine experimentally if an object is “absolutely at rest”; this principle stated as early as Galileo’s Dialogues. In practice, classical physicists used whatever frame of reference seemed convenient for calculations–usually, though not always, the center of mass of whatever system of bodies was being considered. And they could do this, precisely because it was understood that the particular choice of frame didn’t matter. Now it may be that the persistence of the assumption that “rest” is absolutely meaningful, alongside of what is really the operative assumption of classical mechanics (that the laws of physics are the same for all inertial frames, and that no one is particularly privileged) is an example of the ambivalence between centered structure and decentered play that Derrida discusses in “Structure, Sign, and Play,” and illustrates his belief (c.f. Languages of Criticism 265) that there is no meaningful choice between the two. But again, if classical physics displays the same “obscure economy” in which the “absolutely irreconcilable” schemes of centered and decentered structure coexist, then it seems that we should have to put, alongside of Nietzsche, Freud, and Heidegger, the names of Galileo, Newton, and Leibnitz. Which was probably not Derrida’s intention.

 

The problem, I think, is in the assumption that, at least in the context of physics, “center” must mean “privileged frame of reference,” and that “play” or “jeu” has to do with its absence. Plotnitsky does not really justify this assumption; he only says that it is “easily supportable on the basis of his essay and related works,” and gives no details; it is, however, the key point. In fact, if “center” could mean something else, then is it not possible after all that Relativity has a “center,” an “organizing principle of the structure” which “would limit what we might call the play of the structure”? One thinks, for example, of the representation theory of the Lorentz group, which classifies the various invariant and covariant quantities for the action of the group, and thus the mathematical constructions which are to be allowed as “physically meaningful.” It could therefore be seen as limiting the “play” of the structure, in the sense that it establishes what can be meaningful in the theory and what cannot. We have also seen the role played by the notion of “inertial system” in both classical and relativistic mechanics: could this be a “center,” something limiting the “play”? And if we consider, not Special, but General Relativity, then a host of concepts come in for consideration–the curvature tensor, the Ricci tensor, the scalar curvature, or perhaps the totality of Riemannian geometry–as a “ceenter,” something which limits the play of the structure by determining what is physically meaning, and physically possible.

 

On the other hand, if relativistic mechanics is to be understood as a “decentered structure,” then this must be explained on the basis provided by Derrida in his lecture. I can’t say that I really see how to do this. Consider, for example, Derrida’s introduction of the latter concept:

 

From then on [i.e. after the "rupture"] it was probably necessary to begin to think that there was no center, that the center could not be thought in the form of a being-present, that the center had no natural locus, that it was not a fixed locus but a function, a sort of non-locus in which an infinite number of sign-substitutions came into play. This moment was that in which language invaded the universal problematic; that in which, in the absence of a center or origin, everything became discourse--provided we can agree on this word--that is to say, when everything became a system where the central signified, the original or transcendental signified, is never absolutely present outside a system of differences. (Languages of Criticism 249)

 

and later:

 

This field is in fact that of freeplay, that is to say, a field of infinite substitutions in the closure of a finite ensemble. This field permits these infinite substitutions only because it is finite... (260)

 

Is it really clear that the multiplicity of reference frames in Special Relativity constitutes “a sort of non-locus in which an infinite number of sign-substitutions come into play?” If so, why does this point of view not apply to a “classical” theory such as Newtonian mechanics? And what sense would it have to say that in the Theory of Relativity “everything is discourse”? These quoted passages call for some sort of commentary or explanation, to justify the particular application of these concepts to physics. Plotnitsky does not give any, though he criticizes Weinberg for a similar failure (par. 13).

 

One might object that it is completely misguided to take Derrida’s text in such a literal way. But when Plotnitsky says that “these concepts, such as ‘play,’ are thought through in Derrida in the most rigorous way,” when he says that “interpretations of these statements [i.e. Derrida’s remark about the “Einsteinian constant”] are possible and may be necessary,” and when he appeals to “traditional norms of reading,” then I think that he too wants to take Derrida at his word. This would seem to be all the more necessary if he really wants to distance himself from the position that Derrida’s remarks to Hyppolite were merely “casual” and “offhand.” As far as the latter goes, I think it is perfectly consistent to view those comments as casual, or at best metaphorical, and yet hold that the conceptual scheme outlined by Derrida in “Structure, Sign, and Play” has some application to physics. But Plotnitsky has much more work to do if he wants to take on the latter task; one thing, in particular, is to clear up the meaning of “center”–a question already raised by Hyppolite in the discussion following “Structure, Sign, and Play,” and not, to my satisfaction at least, answered by Derrida.

 

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On Derrida and Relativity: A Reply to Richard Crew

Arkady Plotnitsky
aplotnit@acpub.duke.edu© 1998 Arkady Plotnitsky
All rights reserved

 

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I am grateful to Richard Crew for his thoughtful commentary on my article “‘But It Is Above All Not True’: Derrida, Relativity and the ‘Science Wars.'” While critical of the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange on relativity, this commentary offers a welcome contrast to recent debates in the so-called “Science Wars.” No less significantly, Crew meaningfully uses the content of mathematics and science in his argument, rather than merely making them serve as a source of authority, as a number of mathematicians and scientists have done in the “Science Wars.” His discussion of both relativity and classical mechanics has much to offer in its own right and (perhaps contrary to his own view) illustrates the fertility of exploring the relationships between modern science and Derrida’s and related ideas. Crew argues on the basis of a substantive reading of the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange and Derrida’s work. This, too, offers a marked and welcome contrast to most recent “criticism” by members of the scientific community. I would, therefore, be glad to use this opportunity to further clarify key questions at stake in my essay, and I offer this response not in the spirit of confrontation but in the spirit of clarification. Hopefully, along with Crew’s remarks, my response will make a contribution to a broad and substantive discussion concerning the relationships between modern mathematics and science, and new philosophy, or contemporary culture as a whole. In following this approach, the best one can do may well be, as Nietzsche said, “to replace the improbable with the more probable, possibly one error with another” (On the Genealogy of Morals 18). This, however, is by far preferable to the “Science Wars.”

 

In this spirit, let me begin by acknowledging that at several points the argument of my essay needs to be clarified and made more precise. Yet, it also appears to me that, however unintentionally, Crew has bypassed some qualifications I did make and that the essay already, in effect, responds to some of his questions. I also think that some of his comments are in fact consistent with my argument and even reinforce it, if against the grain of Crew’s overall argument. It is crucial to keep in mind what arguments and claims–and of what kind–I make in my article. It may therefore be useful to consider the nature of these arguments and claims before proceeding to Crew’s more specific comments. I shall do so in two parts, each reflecting two main aspects of my earlier argument–the ethical and the conceptual–even though these aspects cannot be seen as fully dissociable, which is a significant point in its own right. I shall designate these two parts of my response as “A” and “B.” In a final section, “C,” I will address Crew’s comments specifically.

 

A. Ethics

 

At the core of my argument in my article is the following point: If one wants to offer a meaningful argument concerning the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange this is how one should proceed: a) by taking into account the particular circumstances of the exchange; and b) by examining the exchange itself and, especially, Derrida’s “Structure, Sign, and Play in the Discourse of the Human Sciences” (see my par. 22, 24, 26, 27). I consider this point axiomatic–as concerns both a meaningful conceptual engagement with the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange and, especially, the ethics of academic and intellectual discussion. Indeed, this is how Crew proceeds. But, as he points out in his first paragraph above, this is decidedly not what we have seen in the discussions at issue in my essay. The latter is one of my central points. The article and all of its arguments are framed accordingly, as its subtitle, “Derrida, Relativity, and the ‘Science Wars,'” indicates. As I tried to make clear throughout, my article does not offer, and does not claim to offer, a full conceptually substantive argument supporting its readings of the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange and “Structure, Sign, and Play.” It only suggests that such readings are possible and offers some corroboration to support this suggestion. It pointedly allows for the possibility that these readings can be challenged, for example, in the way they are by Crew, within the proper protocol, as defined above. That is, my essay is more an argument about how an argument concerning the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange should be conducted than an argument concerning the meaning of any particular statement in this exchange. To a much greater extent it is an argument concerning the relationships between relativity and Derrida’s philosophy as such, on which I sahll comment in more detail presently. When I do argue about the meaning of Hyppolite or Derrida statements in their exchange, I do so tentatively and provisionally; and one must still consider what kind of arguments they are, which I shall do in part “B” of this response. As I say in my initial formulation: “I shall suggest a reading of Derrida’s statement on relativity that might help to develop more balanced and productive forms of interaction between science and the work of Derrida and other authors mentioned above” (par. 2; emphasis added). I also point out that one may be critical of the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange or Derrida’s ideas in general, or be skeptical concerning the value or the very possibility of this interaction (par. 13 and 26).

 

I am not saying that I offered no conceptual views, arguments, or claims in my article, on which I shall comment below. My point is that these are framed in a particular way within the overall argument of the article, and that this framing must be taken into account in considering any claim made there, such as those concerning possible meanings of the phrase “the Einsteinian constant.” The reading I provided of that phrase may be plausible or possible, or “at least allowable” (par. 18), or implausible or even impossible and, hence, disallowed. This reading, however, must be considered according to the way its framed in my essay, rather than on its own. This is my only major reservation concerning Crew’s commentary. Even the conceptual, let alone ethical, argument of my article is not, as Crew appears to think, centered or anchored in, or even dependent on, any specific interpretation (there are several) of “the Einsteinian constant” suggested in my article, in particular as the Einsteinian relativistic space-time or the spatio-temporal interval invariant under Lorentz transformations. The argument of my essay would remain largely intact if one maintains other interpretations of this “constant,” including the speed of light c–although the spectrum of such interpretations is, I argue, not unlimited. Indeed, it would remain intact even if this phrase or related statements in the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange were in fact meaningless, or uninterpretable. I shall return to this point below. My point at the moment is that conceptual aspects of my argument, including its conjectural interpretations of certain passages from the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange and from Derrida’s “Structure, Sign, and Play,” are not dissociable from its ethical dimensions.

 

I should add that it is not merely a question, as Crew says, of “the superficiality with which this and other aspects of the Sokal controversy has been discussed” (par.1; emphasis added). At stake are serious–and, once unsupported, scholarly and ethically unacceptable–accusations (far from restricted to Derrida), with considerable implications. Often it is a matter of the truth of such accusations (hence the title of my essay), such as those made by Paul Gross and Norman Levitt in Higher Superstition, on no basis whatsoever, of “Derrida’s eagerness to claim familiarity with deep scientific matters,” of which (this is clearly their point) he is in fact totally ignorant (par. 7; see also Higher Superstition, 79). Beyond being blatantly untrue, this is hardly an innocent and, if believed, inconsequential accusation, found in a book published by a major university press (n.12). Also, at stake is the work of key contemporary thinkers and its impact on the academic and intellectual life, and culture.

 

Given the particular character, as just outlined, of my argument, the absence (which I acknowledge throughout) of a definitive argument concerning relativity and the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange or “Structure, Sign, and Play,” was, I thought, permissible, however desirable such an argument might be in general. Ethically, too, since I did not criticize, let alone attack Derrida or Hyppolite (and I do believe that there is an ethical asymmetry here), I could afford to be more tentative either concerning the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange itself or “Structure, Sign, and Play,”–provided that I made clear to the readers that my claims are tentative. This I think I did, for the most part. At the same time, I thought it important to show that there exists a view of the relationships between modern mathematics or science and new philosophy different from most positions on both sides of the “Science Wars.”

 

B. Concepts

 

I shall now explain what were the conceptual arguments and claims in my essay concerning both the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange and (a very different case) the relationships between Derrida’s work and relativity. From the standpoint of my article, and, I would argue, under the circumstances of the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange in general, the conceptual content and significance of this exchange lies in the degree to which it reflects the relationships between the philosophical content of modern mathematics and science, here in particular relativity, and Derrida’s ideas, such as that of decentered play [jeu]. That is, it is in relation to these relationships in Derrida’s work, in particular in “Structure, Sign, and Play,” rather than in the exchange itself, that the latter can be meaningfully considered. In short (this view governs my reading of the exchange), the meaning of the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange is the possibility of such relationships. It tells us that the philosophical content of Einstein’s relativity overlaps with and might have influenced, however indirectly, Derrida’s conceptuality of decentered play. As I stress throughout, it is only the philosophical content and implications of relativity, rather than physics itself, that is at issue here (see par.11, 14, 19, and 21-22).

 

Accordingly, all that I claim with any definitiveness is the existence of such philosophical relationships between Derrida’s ideas and relativity–and that the possibility of these relationships is reflected in the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange. That Hyppolite’s remarks suggest the possibility of such connections is hardly in question, however little he offers to justify such a suggestion and however vague and chaotic his comments may be. Crew clearly shares my view that these factors and other circumstances of the exchange make nearly everything one has to say about his or Derrida’s comments there unavoidably hypothetical.

 

It is in this sense that I argue that no definitive interpretation of their statements on “the Einsteinian constant” may be possible (par. 18). This need not mean that something more definitive was not on Hyppolite’s or Derrida’s mind, although their thinking was obviously far from crystallized. As will be seen, some indeterminacy of meaning at the time of the exchange, or, conversely, the fact that some meaning of certain statements determined at the time is lost now, does not mean that some statements of either type cannot be read (in the sense to be explained below). By contrast, it can be ascertained with a reasonable degree of certainty that Hyppolite suggests the possibility of some connections between Derrida’s ideas and relativity.

 

How viable this possibility is may of course be questioned, as Crew appears to do in his comments. While (I hope) my essay offers more in this regard than Hyppolite’s comments, it does not offer the kind of reading of “Structure, Sign, and Play” and related works that would constitute a full argument in this respect. However, I also do not claim to offer such an argument in full measure but only suggest that it is possible to do so, which is significant for the ethical reasons explained briefly above and in paragraphs 24 and 26 of my essay.

 

While I did not fully develop such an argument in my essay, this type of argument itself has a different status in my essay and entails a very different type of claims than that of claims advanced in my interpretations of passages from the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange. The latter interpretations are strictly hypothetical and the statements and concepts in question, such as “the Einsteinian constant,” may indeed have had a different meaning in the exchange (my article suggests several such possible meanings), or (which is not the same) might be given a different meaning in a reading, or might even be read as meaningless. I do not think that the latter is the case, even though, in part by virtue of their circumstances, some of Hyppolite’s and Derrida’s statements are vague and unrigorous. As a result the role of these remarks may well be restricted to indicating the possibility of some conceptual relationships between relativity and Derrida’s ideas. By contrast, my argument for the latter relationships is not hypothetical in the same sense. This difference is made explicit in my article (par. 21). This is also why, as I said above, even the conceptual argument of my essay is not primarily centered or dependent on any particular interpretation of “the Einsteinian constant.” It is certainly not primarily about this interpretation, as Crew appears to assume in his reading of my article. Such a reading is not preventable, but it runs against the spirit, if not the letter, of my article. By contrast, Derrida’s concept of (decentered) play is indispensable to my argument concerning the relationships between Derrida’s work, such as and especially “Structure, Sign, and Play,” and relativity. Of course, this argument, too, even if made as fully as possible, may be unpersuasive, can be argued against, or disproved, as my article makes clear (par. 26). Crew’s comments do not appear to offer (or aim to offer) a full counter-argument in this respect, however much they undermine (perhaps less than Crew claims) my suggested interpretation of “the Einsteinian constant” or other passages in the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange. Although I did not fully develop it there and will not be able to fully develop it here, this argument would in my view stand, regardless of the specific meaning of anything said by Hyppolite or Derrida during their exchange.

 

From this perspective, whatever Derrida and Hyppolite say concerning relativity during their exchange, be it meaningful or meaningless, becomes more or less immaterial, if not irrelevant. Accordingly, questions Crew raises about their statements there are not really that germane to my argument. Crew’s more general (but similarly critical) claims concerning relativity and Derrida’s work itself are of course a different matter, and I shall consider them separately below.

 

Derrida is in a rather enviable position here. On the one hand, he does not mention relativity in his essay (and to my knowledge anywhere in his work in any substantive way) and gives only a brief improvised response to a somewhat muddled question by Hyppolite. He might have had something in mind concerning relativity and his concept of play, quite possibly something vague and induced by Hyppolite’s question. What that was is not easily, if at all, recoverable after thirty years and is found in a text that is itself uncertain. In any event, while, as Crew observes, Derrida might indeed not have said enough or was too vague to be definitive or definitively right, or even meaningful, about relativity, he did not say enough to be (definitively provable) wrong about it either. Even if he were proved to be wrong, it would be unreasonable to make too much of it given the circumstances, as indeed nearly everyone, on both sides of the “Science Wars,” admits at this point, including Sokal, although not Gross and Levitt (Higher Superstition 93). In short, there is little ground for any meaningful criticism, certainly not for the kind of attack to which Derrida was subjected during the “Science Wars.” At most, if one is inclined to criticize, one can see Derrida’s remarks as irrelevant as far as relativity is concerned. Even in this case, however, from the ethical standpoint one has no choice but to acknowledge that in one degree or another the circumstances had contributed to the questionable character of his statement, especially given that Derrida is customarily cautious and circumspect in his statements concerning mathematics and science, and the relationships between them and his own work (par. 1; Derrida, “Sokal et Bricmont ne sont pas sérieux”). On the other hand, if one does want to suggest connections between Derrida’s work and relativity or establish them rigorously, one is free to do so. If, however, such an attempt is successful, at least some credit would belong to Derrida. In short, on the one hand, the ethics of scholarly and intellectual discussion does not leave one much space for Derrida’s critics here. On the other hand, his remark on “the Einsteinian constant” is what one can make of it by using “Structure, Sign, and Play” and Derrida’s ideas in general and their connections to relativity, which one has to establish on one’s own. One has to extract and indeed to construct a “Derridean” conceptual matrix for relativity out of materials such as the idea of decentered play and related conceptual formations of a more general philosophical nature (par. 19).

 

As I explained above, my primary argument in the article is that there exists or, better, that one can establish–or, again, construct–significant connections between Derrida’s and related work and the philosophical problematics of relativity. My reading of the relevant passages in the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange and interpretation of “the Einsteinian constant” was “an exploration of certain possibilities and implications of these connections” (par. 21).

 

The most likely and the most significant possibility for placing Derrida’s comment may well be suggested, perhaps more marginally than it should have been, in par. 24. Let me reproduce this elaboration here:

 

There are further nuances concerning relativity as well, especially those relating to the difference between the centering of "the whole [theoretical] construct"--that is, as I read it, the overall conceptual framework of relativity--around the concept of space-time and the centering of the space-time of special or general relativity itself. Concentrating here on "the Einsteinian constant," Derrida does not appear to address the first question as such (or conceivably, and, again, under the circumstances understandably, conflates both questions). It may well be, however, that he intimates a negative answer here as well. For from the Derridean perspective it would be difficult, perhaps impossible, to claim any central or unique concept--the "constant"--defining the Einsteinian framework. It is, therefore, possible that Derrida has this point in mind. Invariance or stability of a conceptual center of a theoretical structure, such as relativity, is, of course, quite different from invariance of a physical constant. One might suggest, however, that in the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange a certain concept of decentering defining the space-time of relativity coincides with the idea of decentering the overall conceptual structure of the theory itself. No concept belonging to the latter, not even that of the decentered space-time, may be seen as an absolute center of relativity theory--a center invariant under all theoretical and historical transformations of this theory. That is, such conceptual centering may change from one version of relativity to another (this centering is relative in this sense), and some forms of relativity may be constructed as conceptually decentered in themselves. Indeed, there have been considerable debates among historians of science as to the relative centrality of key experimental facts and theoretical ideas of special relativity, either as originally introduced by Einstein or in its subsequent, such as Minkowskian, forms. (par. 24)

 

I am now inclined to think about this situation in stronger terms than “[i]t may well be… that [Derrida] intimates a negative answer here as well” or “it is… possible that Derrida has this point in mind.” Given Derrida’s argument in “Structure, Sign, and Play” and the Derridean perspective on the structure of theoretical argument in general, this could have been (and would naturally have been) Derrida’s primary meaning of his statement. This meaning also allows for several meanings of “the Einsteinian constant” itself, including the speed of light c, which may indeed have been what at least Derrida, if not Hyppolite, had in mind after all, as both I and Crew suggest (see par. 17 and 20 of my essay; par. 2 of Crew’s response). As I say in paragraphs 24 and note 23, Hyppolite might have also thought of the center in the sense of conceptually centering the framework of relativity around a certain “constant” (however the latter itself is interpreted), when he spoke of the constant as “dominat[ing] the whole construct” (par.16). A certain conflation of both these levels of “(de)centering” is possible and, as the above elaboration indicates, these levels may mirror each other.

 

Is the space-time itself of relativity decentered and decentered more radically than that of Newtonian physics (since there is a certain decentering there as well, via the so-called Galilean relativity)? Would relativity be a conceptually centered or decentered theory? To what degree the latter can be conceptualized via or metaphorized by the former? These are some among the questions posed, or at least provoked, by Hyppolite, in his reaction to Derrida’s concept of decentered play and related ideas in “Structure, Sign, and Play.” Even if not rigorously developed by Hyppolite (under the circumstances understandably), these are philosophically rigorous questions, in part made possible by Derrida’s ideas, although they are not specifically posed by Derrida either. However indirect, these connections are historically significant (par. 25). Questions of this type naturally arise in the philosophy of relativity, even though they may not be addressed by the institutional philosophers of science in the form that Derrida’s work might suggest. On occasion one does find formulations in their work that are close to those that would emerge were one to consider relativity from a Derridean perspective. Indeed, as I indicated above and as I shall further discuss below, even as he criticizes the exchange and “Structure, Sign, and Play,” Crew in effect demonstrates the potential significance of these questions for our understanding of both relativity and Derrida’s framework (see par. 5 – 11). These questions are independent of whatever was said or meant in the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange. This is why I said earlier that, in this larger scheme, whatever was said or meant in the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange itself, for example, by “the Einsteinian constant,” is nearly irrelevant.

 

However, with these questions and Derrida’s ideas in mind, one can at least read (which, as I shall explain presently, is not the same as finding what Derrida meant or even what he might have meant by his statement at the time) his comment in the following way. Whatever is a constant–numerical, conceptual (an invariant, for example) or other–in Einstein’s relativity is likely to be a manifestation of a Derridean (or analogous) decentering, variability, play [jeu]. Such “constants” may be found either at the level of the structure of the Einsteinian space-time or at the level of the conceptual structure of Einstein’s theory itself. Both may be seen as mirroring each other in this respect, with the qualifications indicated above and keeping in mind the rigorous specificity of the mathematics and physics of relativity. In this reading the meaning of “the Einsteinian constant” itself is left open, although it cannot be seen as arbitrary (and the spectrum of possibilities is in fact not that large). “The Einsteinian constant” will refer to the relationships between many conceivable Einsteinian “constants”–numerical, conceptual, invariants, and so forth–and the irreducible decentering, variability, and play in Derrida’s sense. The former signals the latter: that is, the Einsteinian constants signal the Einsteinian variability as the Derridean or quasi-Derridean play.

 

This is–or might have been–an intriguing insight or a lucky guess (or both) on Derrida’s part, if due primarily to his general ideas rather than his knowledge of relativity. That is, it might be that, provoked by Hyppolite’s remarks, Derrida guessed that something of that type–that is, that “constants” signal decentering, variability, play–must take place in relativity as well. If so, it was a brilliant guess. If not–that is, if this is not what he meant, or even could have possibly meant–this is still how this statement may be read. That is, one might see it as a kind of philosophical or poetico-philosophical (as opposed to strictly scientific) proposition assembled out of freely floating terms and ideas which may be read in the way just described. Even if the statement had a different meaning when produced, once produced, this statement or, more accurately, the field of interpretative possibilities thereby established allows one to interpret it in the way suggested here. This reading, however, is not arbitrary and, I would argue, philosophically rigorous–that is, the statement can be given a rigorous meaning on the basis of both Derrida’s text, specifically “Structure, Sign, and Play,” and relativity. As I said, it was likely only a lucky guess, although such guesses are, I would argue, never purely a matter of luck. At the very least, the history of Derrida’s ideas has some connections to relativity, as well as quantum physics, post-Gödelian mathematical logic, and certain areas of modern biology and genetics. As I suggest in my article, in all these theories one finds the philosophical conceptuality of the kind found in Derrida and thinkers, such as Bataille, Blanchot, and Levinas, who influenced him. Of course, one finds related philosophical problematics in the history of philosophy itself, extending at least from the Leibniz-Clarke debate, as I mention (par. 25) and as Crew suggests as well (par. 10). The Leibniz-Clarke debate must have been on Hyppolite’s mind.

 

What I tried to do in my article, then, was to suggest such general connections, whether perceived or not by Derrida himself, between Derrida’s ideas and the philosophy of relativity. As I said, one must take the responsibility for this reading and claims, be they ultimately right and wrong, since Derrida makes none of them. I am perfectly happy to take this responsibility and a degree of credit, if any credit is due, for establishing these connections. Indeed, as I suggest in that essay and as I argue elsewhere (in particular, in Complementarity) more radical ideas than those found anywhere in contemporary philosophy (with a possible exception of Niels Bohr’s work) may ultimately be at stake in the problematics of modern physics (par. 22). As I said, if I am right, part of the credit will have to go to Derrida. If I am wrong, the fault, as the saying goes, is all mine.

 

The above considerations are part of what I refer to in my article as “the problem of reading,” the problem that has many dimensions (par. 1). What I have specifically in mind here is a reading of Derrida’s comment (and via that comment, of a certain portion of “Structure, Sign, and Play” and a certain portion of the philosophical structure of relativity) as an engagement of shared and mutually enriching conceptualities between theories in different domains, more or less proximate, or more or less distant. It is out of a combination of Derrida’s conceptuality and that of (the philosophy of) relativity that the above propositions, such as “constants of Einstein’s relativity are manifestations of variability, decentering, and play (in Derrida sense),” are produced.

 

Is the claim of that nature–that is, that Einstein’s relativity is a Derridean theory in this sense–supportable? I think so, even though I cannot further elaborate upon this here. At least this engagement of Derrida’s and other new philosophical ideas in the context of modern or indeed postmodern thought and culture appears to lead to important philosophical questions concerning both. At the very least this suggestion can be put on the table, and it would, I think, be difficult to criticize one for doing this.

 

C. Counterpoints

 

Both my article and this exchange are, in my view, best seen as invitations to a rigorous and sustained investigation of the problematics in question, whatever one’s view of Derrida’s and related ideas about modern science, and whatever the outcome of such an investigation may be as concerns the value and significance of these ideas. With this consideration and the preceding discussion in mind, I shall now comment on some of Crew’s specific points. The title of this section–“Counterpoints”–refers more to the sense in which this term is used in music than in an argument.

 

Crew, par. 2-4

 

I was, I admit, a bit too loose in using the terms “correlative” and “conceptual equivalent” so as to make them appear more interchangeable than they should be. What I meant and what I should have said in my article is that “two Einsteinian constants,” space-time itself and the Lorentz distance (both correlative to the constancy of the speed of light, and to each other), allow for two conceptually equivalent philosophical conceptualities of relativity. This qualification does not appear to me to undermine the substance of my argument. I do think that Hyppolite might have had space-time itself in mind, in spite of his, indeed somewhat odd expression, “a combination of space-time,” correctly questioned by Crew (par. 3). The special circumstances of both the exchange itself and of its translation, transcription, and so forth appear to me to have played a role here.

 

I did indeed suggest that “the Einsteinian constant” may have been c, the speed of light, after all, in part for the reasons just indicated or those (more or less the same) indicated by Crew. This follows from my discussion, especially in paragraphs 19-21, although it may need to have been stated more explicitly there. My point was that conceptual (rather than numerical) interpretations that I suggest are “more plausible” (par. 17). I do not think that reading “the Einsteinian constant” as c undermines my argument in the article either. The particular interpretation of “the Einsteinian constant” as c is clearly more likely than those proposing other numerical constants that can be associated with Einstein’s name (par. 15). When I criticize those who used c in the “Science Wars,” I did not meant to suggest that this interpretation is impossible. I meant rather to emphasize, first, that other interpretations are also possible and perhaps more likely, which decision requires a more careful examination of the text. Secondly, I argue that the treatment of the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange by some who used this interpretation is unacceptable on ethical and intellectual grounds. I may overstress the primacy of the conceptual interpretation of “the Einsteinian constant,” and they should have been more nuanced in this respect. However, my overall interpretation of the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange on relativity allows for reading “the Einsteinian constant” as c, since it is primarily about relativity and/as a decentered play (par. 11), which concept easily tolerate this reading, as Crew observes (par. 4). So, if Crew is right that c makes more or even most sense for “the Einsteinian constant” (and this argument is not uncompelling), it would not change my main argument. As I have stressed from the outset, the key aspects of my conceptual, let alone ethical, argument do not fundamentally depend on two particular interpretations of the phrase “the Einsteinian constant,” as Crew appears to think. Crew’s reservations concerning the difference between the terms “constant” and “invariant” are justified, especially as concerns space-time. I have pondered this point myself while writing my article. I do think, however, that the space-time interval, invariant under the Lorentz transformations, could have been assimilated by Hyppolite into his “constant” as referring to something invariant in the sense of remaining constant. In addition, Hyppolite’s propositions in his statement concerning the nature of this “constant” (as the one that “does not belong to any experimenters who live the experience,” or “dominates the whole construct”) appear to me to support my reading.

 

All of the above possibilities would satisfy my suggestion that “constants” of relativity signal its decentered play in Derrida’s sense, whether one considers it in relation to the relativistic space-time or in relation to the conceptual matrix of relativity. This does not mean that one is authorized to say anything about this phrase or other statement on relativity in the Hyppolite-Derrida exchange, for several reasons. Thus, while, as I say in par. 25, Hyppolite had extensive general knowledge of modern mathematics and science, some candidates for “the Einsteinian constant” or, similarly, some of Crew’s elegant suggestions concerning possible conceptual “centers” of relativity (especially once he moves to general relativity) are far too technical for Hyppolite to have had them in mind. Indeed, given the nature of Hyppolite’s and Derrida’s work and their audience (which were for me significant factors in interpreting “the Einsteinian constant”), two conceptual possibilities that I suggest and the speed of light just about exhaust all likely candidates. Even the spatio-temporal (Lorentz) interval may be a bit of a stretch, although it is virtually certain that Hyppolite was aware of the concept. I am less certain about Derrida, who is, however, certainly aware of the concept of space-time, and other general philosophical ideas of relativity, as I indicated (par. 19-20). Mathematically and conceptually appealing as they are, Crew’s suggestions clearly reflect his technical knowledge of relativity, which contributes to the effectiveness and elegance of his commentary, but would not likely be available to Hyppolite or Derrida. Of course, if one has this, more technical, knowledge, one can apply some Derridean ideas to relativity. This is what I had in mind in saying earlier that one can connect more rigorously the philosophy, if not physics, of relativity and a Derridean or related philosophy, although, as I said and as Crew argues (par.13), one needs to do much work in order to adjust both accordingly. Obviously, neither Hyppolite nor Derrida do–nor, importantly, claim to do–so.

 

Crew, par. 4 – 13

 

I find this discussion especially appealing. As I said, in some respects, perhaps contrary to Crew’s intentions, it is richly suggestive of the potential relationships between relativity and the Derridean or (the term one might prefer) quasi-Derridean problematics of decentered play. The original version of my essay contained a discussion of Galilean relativity, along the lines similar to Crew’s. The reference to the Leibniz-Clarke debate (par. 25) is a remnant of this discussion and indicates some of the topics that Crew discusses. I see this part of Crew’s commentary as for the most part consistent with and helping my main argument, as described in section “B” above, rather than undermining it. I have a few counterpoints which I hope will also explain why I think that the latter may be the case.

 

It is clear from the my statement that Crew cites in par. 14 that the question of “a Newtonian universal background with its (separate) absolute space and absolute time” is at least as significant for my argument as that of “a uniquely privileged frame of reference for physical events” (par. 20). These two concepts are indeed different, as Crew says (par. 5). The significance of this qualification is that it indicates that my essay offers a broader field for “centerings” in classical physics than Crew attributes to it. My “or” in the above sentence does not mean equivalence of two configurations, but rather either “one” or “the other,” or possibly both. All three philosophical views are in principle possible interpretations of classical physics. As Crew indicates, although there is no spatial center of the universe even in the Newtonian space, this decentering takes place against the fixed flat background of space and is governed by absolute time. The Galilean relativity does not change the latter feature. In addition, as Crew points out (this is also Minkowski’s point) space and time are absolutely meaningful in the Newtonian picture, at least in the classical interpretation. There was, at least for a long time, no space-time picture for the Newtonian world, although one can recast the Newtonian gravity in this form as well, as Elie Cartan did, in the wake of Einstein’s general relativity. In any event, the Newtonian world cannot in my view–and this was my point–be seen as the world of the radical play in Derrida’s sense (par. 20).

 

Accordingly, I do not think that “classical mechanics could itself be described as a ‘decentered structure,'” which Crew suggests as a possibility (par. 9), at least not in Derrida’s radical sense. This may not be possible even if one recasts classical mechanics along the lines Crew suggests, in more Leibnizian terms, although this recasting poses rather interesting and complicated questions. It may be argued that, once one tries to take this program to its proper limits, one will inevitably arrive at something like Einstein’s relativity, rather than Newtonian physics. As is often observed, one sometimes gets an impression in reading the Leibniz-Clarke correspondence that Leibniz “read” Einstein. These nuances are important, and I refer to the Leibniz-Clarke correspondence myself in this particular form: “Many discussions of the Leibniz-Clarke debate in philosophical literature, known to Hyppolite (or Derrida), consider Einstein’s relativity, both speci[al] [typo in the text] and general theory, as a culmination or at least a crucial point in the history open by this debate” (par. 25).

 

From this perspective, Crew’s discussion may, again, be seen as supporting both my argument and Derrida’s historical point in “Structure, Sign, and Play.” While Derrida does indeed speak of and considers a certain “rupture” in “Structure, Sign, and Play” (par. 11), this “rupture” cannot be seen as absolute. The concept of absolute rupture is itself subject to Derrida’s critique, along with absolute origins, ends, and so forth. This is suggested even by the way in which the very term “rupture” is introduced in Derrida in conjunction with the “event” at issue in “the history of the concept of structure.” (“Event” is already used in quotation marks in Derrida’s opening paragraph.) Derrida writes: “What would this event be then? Its exterior form would be that of a rupture and redoubling?” (Writing and Difference, 278; emphasis added). This would hardly seem to suggest a simple or unequivocal rupture, at most something whose exterior form appears as and has an effect of a rupture, and this effect is important. Overall, however, a much more complex historical model, involving both continuities and rupture, is at stake. On this point I permit myself to refer to my book In the Shadow of Hegel (84-95, 380-88). A very long history of continuities and ruptures (around the idea of structure) is at stake, as the second paragraph of “Structure, Sign, and Play” suggests (Writing and Difference, 278). From this perspective, one should expect some intimations, anticipations, and so forth, of the “event” at issue, sometimes quite radical and striking, as to some degree, in Leibniz or indeed Galileo, and there are much earlier cases, for example, in Plato. “Derrida’s intention[s]” in “Structure, Sign, and Play” were likely of that nature, rather than those that Crew suggests (par. 10).

 

And yet, at the same time, a kind of (“decentered”) understanding of even the Newtonian physics that Crew suggests does not come into the foreground in any significant measure before precisely the historical period suggested by Derrida, in particular around Nietzsche’s time. If there could be a unique designation of the moment of the emergence of the concept of radical play or “the central figure,” it would be the moment and the figure of Nietzsche (Writing and Difference, 292). Derrida’s key concept of “the play of the world,” considered in my essay (par. 20), Of Grammatology, 50) is equally associated with Nietzsche. Nietzsche, however, was a contemporary of Maxwell, and his thought belongs to the period of Maxwell’s physics and other developments which eventually culminated in relativity. True, “these were not the heyday of classical mechanics” (par. 9). The point is, however, that a decentered understanding of classical mechanics, to the degree that it is possible, is also–and decidedly–not what governs the heyday of classical mechanics. Crew seems to locate the decentering possibilities of interpreting classical mechanics, ahistorically, in classical mechanics itself (par. 10). (Let us assume for the moment that these possibilities are viable even if taken in Derrida’s radical sense.) There are reasons for doing so, since already with Galileo certain key features necessary here were in place. However, the history of classical mechanics in this respect is for the most part a history of physically and philosophically centered theory, prior to relativity or developments that led to it, from Maxwell on. So Derrida’s genealogy is on the mark and not at all in conflict with the decentering possibilities of in interpreting classical physics, to the degree such possibilities are available (par.10). Galileo and Leibniz are, to some degree, exceptions, but exceptions consistent with the overall picture just presented. Actually Leibniz did not have (mathematical) mechanics, unlike Newton, which was of course a crucial factor in the history at issue. I have to leave Galileo’s case aside, even though some of his philosophical ideas are in fact rather modern. Overall, then, as I said, Crew’s argument here appears to me in effect in agreement with and reinforces the argument of my essay and “Structure, Sign, and Play,” rather than constituting an argument against them, as Crew seems to see it (par. 9).

 

Conversely, it is not inconceivable (and I do not claim in my article that it is) that relativity is a centered theory after all, in one respect or another, either at the level of the space-time itself or at the level of its theoretical structure. This is what Hyppolite in fact asks, and Crew’s ideas here are most suggestive (par. 12). I do, of course, suggest otherwise, especially in paragraph 24 which in fact addresses the kind of points that Crew raises here. It is true that I have not shown or indeed really justified the assumption, formulated by Crew, that “”center’ must mean ‘privileged frame of reference'” (par. 11). But I also never make this assumption. In fact I argue otherwise, especially again par. 24. In short, there are significant questions here as to what degree and how (scientific, philosophical, and so forth) the “play” of the structure of relativity as theory can be limited. In a way, one can see it as one of the interesting and significant areas of potential investigation arising from a Derridean or Nietzschean philosophical perspective, as is especially suggested by the conclusion of “Structure, Sign, and Play,” where different concepts of play–centered and decentered–and of their irreducible entanglement are considered. Thus, Crew’s elaborations, again, appear to suggest that Derrida’s ideas can be meaningfully applied to relativity.

 

As I said, one can, if one so wishes, only extract/construct the Derridean philosophical matrix of relativity by combining Derrida’s ideas and (the philosophy of) relativity itself. It is true that neither my essay nor this response fully or convincingly proves that such a possibility is viable. Much further work is indeed necessary here, as Crew says (par. 13). But, once again, I never claimed otherwise. In this respect Crew’s comment on my comment on Weinberg (par. 12) does not appear to me justified, even leaving aside that, as I have discussed in “A,” ethically, our positions are very different, since, unlike Weinberg, I do not criticize Derrida. All I claim is that “those unfamiliar with Derrida’s ideas would need a more extensive reading of Derrida’s essay [“Structure, Sign, and Play”] and a more comprehensive explication of its terms, and more patience and caution may be necessary before one is ready to agree, with Weinberg’s conclusion. ‘It seemed to me Derrida in context is even worse than Derrida out of context'” (par. 13): This is all that I claim. I do not claim that my essay offers a sufficiently extensive reading of Derrida or a full explication of his terms. Crew, of course, is right that further explanation of some of my own assertions concerning the relationships between Derrida’s ideas and relativity are necessary to give a full argument, and indeed I say so myself (par. 26). The question of the viability of these connections indeed may remain open. However, as is suggested by Crew’s argument concerning the “centering” of the theoretical matrix of relativity in the representation of the Lorentz group and related elaborations (par. 12) or indeed his discussion of centering and decentering in classical physics and relativity as a whole, at least some possibilities appear to be viable and even promising. Crew is finally right: there is plenty of work to do.

 

Works Cited

 

• Derrida, Jacques. Writing and Difference. Trans. Alan Bass. Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1978.
• —. “Sokal et Bricmont ne sont pas sérieux.” Le Monde. 20 Novembre 1997
• Gross, Paul R., and Norman Levitt. Higher Superstition: The Academic Left and its Quarrels with Science. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins UP, 1998.
• Nietzsche, Friedrich. On the Genealogy of Morals and Ecce Homo. Trans. Walter Kaufmann. New York: Vintage, 1967.
• Plotnitsky, Arkady. “‘But It Is Above All Not True’: Derrida, Relativity and the `Science Wars.'” Postmodern Culture. http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/pmc/v007/7.2plotnitsky.html
• —. Complementarity: Anti-epistemology After Bohr and Derrida. Durham, NC: Duke UP, 1994.
• —. In the Shadow of Hegel: Complementarity, History and the Unconscious. Gainesville, Fl.: UP of Florida, 1993.