What is ‘critical’ about critical theory?

Next year I will have my own 10^th anniversary of Prague attendance. I first learned about this annual critical theory colloquium from Mikael Carlheden, who was once the opponent at my PhD defence in Stockholm. Mikael is one of the few scholars in Sweden with a deeper knowledge of Jürgen Habermas’ work, and his doctoral thesis (published in Swedish) made a big impression on me in the late 1990s. In comparison with our Nordic neighbours Denmark and Norway, critical theory has not been very influential in Sweden, which is also mirrored in Prague, where I often end up as the only Swede among my Nordic friends.

My first impression of the Prague gathering was that it was very different from conferences I usually attend. When people ask me in what sense, I often just laugh out loud and reply, ‘Because we dance!’ This is true, but it is not the whole truth. It is also different because of its egalitarian and anarchic set-up. While this caused a bit of confusion at first, it has made me like the venue even more. I quickly realized that the sooner I gave up the idea of finding a red thread among the topics and papers discussed, the more I would get out of the conference.

But since I keep returning to Prague every year, my colleagues in Sweden are not satisfied with these answers. They want to know more: ‘But how is Prague different from other conferences?’ The harder I think about this, the more I come to think about what critical theory is and what is so critical about it. While I have not yet come to understand what critical theory is, I have now a sense of what is critical about it – at least in Prague. At standard philosophy conferences, participants usually do everything in their power to dissect every presented paper, by systematically scrutinizing the justification for each empirical and normative premise involved, and the conclusion that is said to follow. ‘Critical’ here is a method of questioning all the steps of the argument in defence of an overall thesis. However, ‘critical’ in critical theory – insofar as something general at all can be said about it – is less of a method and more of an approach to the social and political world. It is foremost about being critical of social phenomena that upset us, like racism, sexism, inequality, marginalization, oppression and domination, and being interested in who has the social and political power to legitimize certain stories about society rather than others.

This, what we may call ‘social-critical’, outlook also impregnates the Prague meeting and is one of those things that make it unique but also hard to describe. For this kind of social engagement takes our eyes and minds from the specific formulations in the individual papers and forces us instead to think hard about the social and political challenges our societies face today. This is why countless times I have found myself staring at the gorgeous ceiling of the main room of Villa Lanna – where the Institute of Philosophy of the Czech Academy of Sciences is located – in desperate search for answers. While the normative premises of and grounds for this social-critical stance are rarely made explicit in these discussions – which lead to frustration at times – the exchanges are always lively and the conference inspiring. This vibrancy also saturates the atmosphere outside of the conference venue. Sometimes I have my most rewarding conversations here – over dinner at Maitrea or some other nice place, during a (quick!) walk on one of the bridges in this picturesque city, or just on the beautiful patio of the villa during a coffee break. And surely, it cannot be a coincidence that the lunch restaurant closest to the villa is named ‘Argument’.

I am thankful to all participants in Prague, whose thoughts have always inspired my own work over the years. I am also grateful to the directors of the colloquium for creating such a welcoming, inclusive and unusual conference. It is truly one of a particular kind and has a special place in my heart.