Desiring Futures
Let’s agree: the rationalist concept of truth, as traditionally understood, no longer exists.
Truth, as described in postmodern theory, is neither stable nor universal, but constantly reshaped through representation, media, and language. We no longer strive for objectivity, as these representations often replace reality itself, leading to a condition in which what is perceived as ‘true’ is shaped more by cultural codes, signs, and power structures than by factual evidence.
Fluid borders … a spread from What Is Different? Photograph: Wolfgang Tillmans
On this note, Wolfgang Tillmans’ publication What is Different? closely examines right-wing populism in relation to fake news, focusing on the so-called “backfire effect”—a psychological term used to describe the strengthening of beliefs when confronted with factual counter-evidence. Juxtaposing images, texts, and lab results, he mirrors the chaotic way we consume and digest information on a daily basis. Throughout the publication, he explores the deep neurological connection between emotion and political views: MRI scans reveal how our brains respond differently to political and non-political statements. Beliefs tied to political identity are, in fact, significantly more resistant to change than those that are not.
This realisation, however, is not entirely surprising: the need to reinforce our identity is a direct reaction to a political, sociological, and economic context in which we are continually encouraged to prioritise individuality over the collective. In this system, truth cannot be absolute—as the term absolute, per se, implies a totality beyond the individual—but is instead relative, shaped by power structures and the language they employ. I would argue that this fragmentation of truth is deeply tied to the cult of individuality and, consequently, to the rise of late capitalism: an era in which capitalism is no longer just an economic system but a totalising logic that shapes reality, identity, desire, and even resistance.
In his final lecture series Post-Capitalist Desire, Mark Fisher refers to Apple’s famous 1984 Super Bowl commercial, directed by Ridley Scott. In the ad, a woman in bright athletic clothing runs through a dystopian industrial setting, pursued by riot-gear-clad guards. She hurls a sledgehammer into a massive screen broadcasting the image of a totalitarian figure addressing a passive, uniformed audience. The commercial ends with the message: “On January 24th, Apple Computer will introduce Macintosh. And you’ll see why 1984 won’t be like ‘1984’.”
Figuratively, each subject signifies more than itself: the passive audience and authoritarian leader evoke the spectre of communism, while the young, colourful woman can be read as a metaphor for America—or capitalism itself—as a promise of freedom delivered through individuality and consumer desire. Fisher further describes capitalism as an insatiable entity, a monster that absorbs and neutralises everything around it—even acts of rebellion and resistance. In fact, while in the 1970s and 1980s capitalism had to find ways to contain and assimilate energies emerging from outside its structure, such as counter-cultures like the punk movement, today it faces the opposite condition: there is no longer an ‘outside’ to contain.
We’ve reached a point where we can no longer perceive alternatives, as capitalism suppresses collective consciousness by offering the illusion of freedom and awareness through individualism, instant gratification, and capital—as famously stated by Thatcher, “there is no alternative”, or at least, it appears so.
If we take a closer look at photography as a whole, it becomes clear that it represents the perfect postmodern medium—not only because of its indexical nature (the idea that the photograph is physically linked to the object it captures and therefore represents ‘reality’—or, more precisely, a simulation of it), but also because of the key role it plays within the capitalist structure. The photographic image is endlessly reproducible: its capacity for instant replication and distribution makes it easily commodified, decontextualised, and able to circulate globally. These images are characterised by low resolution, high compression, and a complete lack of material value: they sacrifice their physicality to gain speed.
Thomas Ruff installation shot JPEG series, exhibition shot from ‘Thomas Ruff’ at Kunstsammlung Nordrhein-Westfalen, Düsseldorf
Thomas Ruff’s JPEG series offers a close visual analysis of capitalist deterritorialisation: images are initially fixed within a specific context or meaning, only to be later extrapolated and reinserted into new circuits of value, emptied of their original significance. We are presented with low-resolution images Ruff scavenged from the internet, which he altered by increasing their compression and lowering their pixel-per-centimeter ratio. Focusing on how we encounter images online, these subjects—despite their degraded quality—are printed as majestic, large-scale works that barely communicate the information they were originally meant to. We end up with images that exist in a liminal space—neither fully factual nor entirely fictive: their value is no longer rooted in truth or knowledge, but in circulation and immediacy.
Photography offers a powerful insight into the development and motifs of capitalism—and, I would argue, into our post-capitalist future. Are there still other possibilities? Is there an outside we believe no longer exists? What you called “the persistent yearning for something beyond the ordinary”—how do we get there?