Mark Fisher, Robin Mackay
5 min
Fisher and Mackay argue that contemporary culture is caught in a state of 'Pomophobia'—a condition characterized by a paralyzing self-consciousness and an obsession with the past. Drawing on Jean Baudrillard’s critique of the hyperreal, the authors suggest that modern subjects have become 'professional showmen of their own lives.' We are constantly performing, simulating pleasure, and filtering our experiences through an 'automonitor'—a psychic mechanism that demands we interpret and signify every action before it is even performed. This leads to a profound sense of boredom and the feeling that nothing new can ever happen, as everything is pre-packaged, categorized, and recycled.
The authors identify this state as a form of 'transcendental miserabilism,' where the belief that nothing can be done is reinforced by a cynical, ironic detachment. This is exemplified by the 'nostalgia mode,' where culture endlessly regurgitates past styles—such as the revivalism seen in Britpop or the imitation of dead punk aesthetics—without the original energy or revolutionary potential. Because this culture is obsessed with meaning and historical significance, it remains trapped in a 'citational abyss,' unable to escape the weight of the past or the academic frameworks that seek to explain it away.
In contrast to the stagnant, self-referential nature of postmodernism, the authors propose 'synthetic culture' as a potential escape route. Unlike the 'PoMo' machine, which demands to know what things mean, synthetic culture—exemplified by genres like hip-hop and jungle—operates through asignifying, machinic circuits. By focusing on the functional, material, and rhythmic aspects of sound and technology, synthetic culture bypasses the need for interpretation. It treats cultural artifacts not as sacred objects to be cited or mourned, but as raw materials to be dismantled and reconfigured. This approach, the authors argue, allows for a 'schizoanalytic' break from the Kantian mainframe, enabling a more direct, intense, and non-representational engagement with the world.
Alex: That's exactly the right pressure point. In postmodern remix culture, a sample is a sign — it carries the meaning of its origin. "Oh, that's a nod to 70s soul." The juxtaposition is the point. In synthetic culture, by contrast, a sample is a tool. It's a circuit component evaluated by what it does functionally, not what it references historically. You're not building a commentary on the past; you're building a machine that produces intensity in the present.
Sam: One is looking backward at the museum. The other is asking what the pieces can do when you plug them together differently.
Alex: Precisely. And the evaluative criterion shifts entirely — from pedigree to function, from meaning to effect. The question isn't "what does this signify?" but "what does this do?"
Sam: That's a meaningful reorientation. But I want to push on the methodology, because this is where a careful referee would have questions.
Alex: And rightly so. This is a polemical theoretical essay, not an empirical study. The authors are working in the tradition of Deleuze and Guattari — the "desiring machines" language is drawn directly from that lineage — and the argument operates at a high level of abstraction. There's no operationalization of the automonitor, no way to measure whether a given cultural artifact is citational versus machinic, and no test of whether the synthetic alternative actually produces the liberated intensity they're describing.
Sam: So the "synthetic culture" escape hatch is more of a theoretical ideal than a demonstrated phenomenon.
Alex: That's the honest read. What they've built is a diagnostic framework — a map of the mechanism that produces cultural stasis. Whether you can actually disable the automonitor, and whether jungle or hip-hop genuinely escape it rather than just appearing to from the outside, those questions are left open. The paper is better understood as a conceptual intervention than a falsifiable claim.
Sam: Which still has value. Naming the mechanism is a precondition for doing anything about it.
Alex: Exactly. And that's where the paper earns its keep. It doesn't just describe the boredom or the sense of cultural exhaustion — it explains the architecture that generates it. The automonitor isn't a mood; it's a structure. And once you see it as a structure, you can at least ask what it would take to route around it.
Sam: It reframes the malaise as a logical output of a specific system rather than some vague cultural decline.
Alex: Which is a more useful starting point. Even if the proposed alternative remains underspecified, the diagnosis itself shifts how you think about what's happening when you find yourself over-analyzing a track instead of just listening to it.
Sam: The filter is the problem, not the music.
Alex: And recognizing the filter is there is, at minimum, the first step. Thanks for listening to ResearchPod.