Framework

1NC
2NC
Case
Solvency
 1NC Cards
Studious play fails --- ignores inevitable role of institutions
Passavant 7 (Paul A. – Associate Professor of Political Science at Hobart & William Smith Colleges, “The
Contradictory State of Giorgio Agamben,” in Political Theory, Volume 35, Number 2, April 2007,
http://ptx.sagepub.com/content/35/2/147.abstract)

Third, anysocial formation is constituted by elements of both contingency and determination. By emphasizing
pure potentiality, Agamben misses this and either cherishes the excessive quality of pure potentiality to the neglect
of the exigent needs of the present, or neglects how the active political subjects he does defend are embedded within finite commitments that necessarily
persevere through the foreclosure of other possibilities. Some contemporary political theorists concerned with injustice and the lack of democracy also emphasize
contingency, excess, and potentiality over determination, finitude, and acts.49 These theorists correctly seek to disrupt oppressive patterns. Since
politics-
hence political change-would not be possible under conditions of absolute determination, emphasizing
contingency or excess makes sense. Yet reflection upon the retraction of certain state services from places like the Bronx during the late 1970s
per mits us to see how neither justice nor democracy is served by excessive eco nomic duress or violence. Not only are these contingencies unjust, but also their
incapacitating effects prevent democratic practices of government where the latter necessarily presupposes some collective capacity to direct and achieve collective
purposes. State actions that mitigate chaos, economic inequality, and violence, then, potentially contribute to the
improved justice of outcomes and democracy. Political theorists must temper celebrating contingency with a simultaneous consideration
of the complicated relation that determination has to democratic purposes.50 Fourth, the state's institutions are among the few with

the capacity to respond to the exigency of human needs identified by political theorists. These actions will necessarily be
finite and less than wholly adequate, but responsibility may lie on the side of acknowledging these
limitations and seeking to redress what is lacking in state action rather than calling for pure
potentiality and an end to the state. We may conclude that claims to justice or democracy based on the wish to rid ourselves of the state once
and for all are like George W. Bush claiming to be an environmentalist because he has proposed converting all of our cars so that they will run on hydrogen.5"
Meanwhile, inthe here and now, there are urgent claims that demand finite acts that by definition will be
both divisive and less than what a situation demands.52 In the end, the state remains. Let us defend this
state of due process and equal protection against its ruinous other.

Studious play is too abstract --- would lead to totalitarianism in practice

Kohn 6 (Margaret – Professor of Political Science at the University of Toronto, “Bare Life and the Limits
of the Law,” in Theory & Event, Volume 9, Number 2,
http://muse.jhu.edu/journals/theory_and_event/v009/9.2kohn.html [modified for ableist language])
Is there an alternative to this nexus of anomie and nomos produced by the state of exception? Agamben invokes genealogy and politics as two interrelated avenues
of struggle. According to Agamben, "To show law in its nonrelation to life and life in its nonrelation to law means to open a space between them for human action,
which once claimed for itself the name of 'politics'." (88) In a move reminiscent of Foucault, Agamben suggests that breaking the discursive lock on dominant ways
of seeing, or more precisely not seeing, sovereign power is the only way to disrupt its hegemonic effects. Agamben clearly hopes that his
theoretical analysis could contribute to the political struggle against authoritarianism, yet he only
offers tantalizingly abstract hints about how this might work. Beyond the typical academic conceit that theoretical work is a
decisive element of political struggle, Agamben seems to embrace a utopianism that provides little guidance for

political action. He imagines, "One day humanity will play with law just as children play with disused objects, not in order to restore them to their canonical
use but to free them from it for good." (64) More troubling is his messianic suggestion that "this studious play" will

usher in a form of justice that cannot be made juridical. Agamben might do well to consider Hannah
Arendt's warning that the belief in justice unmediated by law was one of the characteristics of
totalitarianism. It might seem unfair to focus too much attention on Agamben's fairly brief discussion of alternatives to the sovereignty-exception-law
nexus, but it is precisely those sections that reveal the flaws in his analysis. It also brings us back to our original question about how to resist the authoritarian
implications of the state of exception without falling into the liberal trap of calling for more law. For Agamben, the problem with the "rule
of law" response to the war on terrorism is that it ignores the way that the law is fundamentally
implicated in the project of sovereignty with its corollary logic of exception. Yet the solution that he endorses
reflects a similar blindness [failure]. Writing in his utopian-mystical mode, he insists, "the only truly political action, however, is that which
severs the nexus between violence and law."(88) Thus Agamben, in spite of all of his theoretical sophistication, ultimately falls into the trap of

hoping that politics can be liberated from law, at least the law tied to violence and the demarcating
project of sovereignty.

The aff may be a pre-requisite but it is not a complete politics – their method of study
cannot defend or sustain itself which guarantees backlash and re-appropriation.
Ford 17 – (Derek R., Prof of Education at DePauw University, PhD Syracuse, “Studying like a
communist: Affect, the Party, and the educational limits to capitalism,” Incorporating ACCESS, Volume
49, 2017 - Issue 5, Pages 452-461)//a-berg

Studying is, like the crowd event, a beautiful moment of encounter, the opening up of the possible, the breeding ground
of the new. While studying one is disindivuated, swaying between subjectification and desubjectification, between being this and being that.
The studier resists classification, preferring not to actualize any predicate. And like the crowd event, I contend,
studying isn’t politics, it is only the occasion for politics, a necessary but insufficient educational logic
for the struggle against capitalist production relations and for the common. Without something more,
studying can retreat from impotentiality into impotence, and, on the other hand, it can be actualized into something
reactionary. To illustrate these possibilities, I will turn to two examples. The first example is of studying as hacking, when one
takes some thing or process, enters into and disrupts it. Hacking is an intervention that directs something toward other ends and uses,
detaching it from its attachments to other objects and processes, potentially opening it up to the unforeseen and unforeseeable. In this way,
hacking is a
transgression and the hacker is an outlaw, one who literally lives by transgressing the lawful order that dictates propriety
(who can do what with what). Lewis and Friedrich (2016) bring up the Anonymous collective, which has ‘repurposed websites
and servers to expose particular contradictions and injustices in the capitalist system’ (p. 244). Not only their
actions, but Anonymous’ very mode of organization is subversive in that anyone can join. Membership in the collective is not predicated upon
any particular identity or a commitment to a specific end. Anonymous are ‘pirates who steal back private code for common use, and in this
sense open up the world of code to unanticipated mutations’ (ibid). One of Anonymous’ first major actions was a swarm attack on the Church
of Scientology for their efforts to censor online criticism of the Church. In addition to sending all-black faxes to their fax machines (to use up
ink), Anonymous members coordinated a Google bomb attack by linking ‘scientology’ to a host of other words, like ‘dangerous’ and ‘cult,’ to
influence (redirect) any Google searches for scientology. Through
distributed denial-of-service attacks, in which multiple
computers attack the infrastructure of root nameservers, Anonymous hackers have shut down a host of
websites, from the Department of Justice (in response to the DoJ’s takedown of a file-sharing network) to the
International Association of Chiefs of Police (as part of a national day of action against police brutality). While hacking is
indeed a reappropriation of code and a repurposing of the networked infrastructure of contemporary capitalism, there is
nothing inherently revolutionary about hacking. For as many Anonymous actions that have supported
revolutionary political movements, there have been others that have arguably hindered such
movements. Consider Anonymous’ intervention in the ‘Arab Spring’ uprisings as a case in point. Anonymous
sought to support the uprisings by attacking government websites and publicizing the private information of government officials who were
opposing or repressing the protests. Yet in addition to attacking the governments of Egypt and Tunisia, which were indeed repressing popular
revolts, Anonymous also attacked the government of Syria, which was battling a range of forces, including those associated with al-Qaeda and
its splinter group, Daesh, or the Islamic State in Syria. The situation in Syria was much different than in Egypt or Tunisia, as the government
retained popular support and immediately engaged in a series of serious reforms, including the drafting of an entirely new constitution (see
Glazebrook, 2013). Indeed, it could be said that in Syria, the government was the progressive force. Or consider a spin-off of
Anonymous, Ghost Squad, which shut down the official website of the Loyal White Knights of the Ku
Klux Klan and the next week attacked the website of Black Lives Matter (before tweeting, ‘All lives
matter!’). Regardless of one’s position on these issues, conflicts, nation-states, and so on, it is clear from these few examples that hacking
doesn’t have a politics and that, as an act of studying, it is not inherently against capitalist production
relations. The second example that I turn to here is meant to illustrate the potential apolitical impotence of studying, and it brings us more
directly into conversation with Dean. In the last chapter of Lewis’ (2013) On Study, he turns to the early stages of the Occupy Wall
Street movement to articulate the ‘im-potential political dimension to studying’ (p. 150). Lewis celebrates the
beginning stage of Occupy Wall Street as a form of collective, public studying, especially in its absence of concrete
demands. While the mainstream press and politicians were anxious to hear what the protesters were demanding so they could issue a
response accordingly, the occupation ‘spent most of its time preferring not to commit to any one demand
over and above any other’ (p. 152). Rather than actualize political polemics and demands, articulating them into proposals that could
then be evaluated, occupiers produced a rupture within the received order of political struggle. The occupation actively resisted the
drive to achieve results and instead conducted an ongoing study of politics, suspending the pursuit of
measureable outcomes; engaging in protest as not protest. As a result, efforts to grade Occupy falter, for there
were no pre-established criteria with which to evaluate it. Occupy celebrated horizontalism,
leaderlessness, inclusivity, and the absence of hierarchical structures. Neither an undifferentiated mass nor an
agglomeration of individuals, the occupiers formed a state of exception where dichotomies and divisions were left idle, the homeless the
middle class, and a host of other intermediary grounds (including students) met in an atopic space and time to study the sublime art of
discussing across differences and living across class divisions. What emerged was precisely the question (and not the answer) of inclusion and
exclusion facing not only OWS but the contemporary learning society as such. (p. 159) This state of exception was exemplified in the slogan,
‘We are the 99%!’ The 99% was a kind of nonidentity, ‘a totally generic yet absolutely irreducible singularity’ (p. 157), as Lewis puts it. ‘We are
the 99%!’ took a quantity and transformed it into an indefinable quality, a way of grouping people without resorting to predicates and already-
established identities. Just precisely who the 99% were (or are), was never fully delineated, couldn’t quite be accounted for. The question was
left open for collective study. Amajor problem with this ongoing collective study, however, is that there was
nothing to defend it or to sustain it. Capital and its state weren’t studying, but were rather gearing up
to unleash a wave of repression that would eventually undo the occupation. The Partnership for Civil Justice Fund
has released several sets of documents obtained through Freedom of Information Act requests that detail the dense network of
surveillance and repressive efforts that included offices of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, the
Department of Homeland Security, the New York Stock Exchange, the Federal Reserve, universities and
colleges, major corporations, local police forces, and local governments, as well as the Bureau of
Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms and the US Marshals Service (Partnership for Civil Justice Fund, 2012, 2016). In this case,
repression opened the door to reabsorption, as many Occupiers entered the non-profit industrial
complex, or even started their own business ventures to profit from their activism. Occupying and
hacking represent study as embryonic political praxis, the enactment of educational logics that are potentially antagonistic
to capitalist production relations and capital’s logic of learning. Whereas capitalism demands that everything—even that which opposes it—be
actualized so that it can be subsumed within its circuits of productivity, occupying and hacking interrupt this seemingly ceaseless process,
opening up the world and subjectivity to the possibility of being otherwise than. Studying is therefore, I proffer, the educational activity of the
crowd, a way to pedagogically bring forth the beautiful moment. This is a crucial element of struggle but, as Dean insists, it
isn’t properly a politics; it is merely an opening for politics. Writing again explicitly about political movements, Dean
(2016) contends: The beautiful in-between of infinite potentiality can’t last forever. People get tired. Some want a little
predictability, reliable food sources, shelter, and medical care. Others realize they’re doing all the work…
The crowd isn’t an alternative political arrangement; it’s the opening to a process of re-arrangement. (p.
142) The question, then, is how to seize upon this opening and carry it forward into a real revolutionary
movement. How, in other words, to make the encounter take hold, how to make it take off in a desirable direction? These are
questions that, while they should always be open to study, have to be answered, at least provisionally and contingently. Or else
the market and its advertising agencies will come knocking with an endless list of glossy, high-definition
answers. Or, alternatively, the state will come knocking down doors, guns drawn and handcuffs aplenty. The
encounter won’t take hold and the possibility of the new will be foreclosed as the crowd is dispersed through redirection, exhaustion, or
repression.
 2NC – State Inevitable
The aff fails because it isn’t able to get rid of the State – it’s an inevitable structure
which communities inherently form – that’s the 1NC Passavant evidence.

The State is inevitable—innovative engagement can redirect power for emancipation

Martin and Pierce, 2013 Deborah G. Martin, Joseph Pierce, “Reconceptualizing Resistance:
Residuals of the State and Democratic Radical Pluralism,” Antipode, Vol. 45, Issue 1, pp. 61-79, January
2013, DOI: 10.1111/j.1467-8330.2012.00980.x

The state offers a complex set of power structures against and with which resistance struggles (Holloway
2005; Scott 1988; Tormey 2004). Indeed, Holloway (2005) sees the state as so entrenched in power relations such
that any resistance in or through the state is irrevocably bound up in its power logic. We acknowledge
state power as always present, but not necessarily as monolithic.2 Despite—or perhaps because of— the power
relations inherent in state frameworks, it is in part through laws and state regulations that activists can
achieve reworked economic relations such as worker ownership, community banks, or cooperative
housing (DeFilippis 2004). Hackworth explicitly acknowledges the possibility of a “neo-Keynesian” resistance which seeks to maintain
relatively left-leaning state functions. Ultimately, though, he dismisses the resistive potential of such “neo-Keynesian” efforts, arguing that they
have yielded “highly limited” successes (2007:191). We argue, however, that focusing
on a state's ordering functions [the
“police” component of states; as in Rancière (2004)] may
provide a lens for examining how resistance through the
state might destabilize or subvert neoliberal hegemony. We articulate the notion of residuals, or mechanisms of
the state that can, or have historically, been wielded to mitigate inequalities of capitalism. In order to explore
this arena as potentially productive for resistance, we first consider radical democracy as an already-articulated conceptualization of neoliberal
resistance (Laclau and Mouffe 1985; Purcell 2008). Radical
democracy does not seek to enroll the state in resistance to
capital, per se, but recognizes the simultaneous co-presence of a hegemonic (but always changing) state, and
anti-hegemonic resistances. Radical Democracy: Responding to Hegemony? The concept of radical democracy provides a framework
for articulating where residual state apparatuses stand amidst the myriad layers of state functions, power, and hegemony (cf Laclau and Mouffe
1985; Rancière 2004). We imagine a politics in which thestate –whether capitalist or not— is always hegemonic, and thus
always produces an outside or excluded that is resistant to the hegemonic order. Radical democracy as
initially described by Laclau and Mouffe (1985) offered a theory of resistance—although they did not use that term—to capitalist
hegemonies.3 Their goal was to identify a leftist, anti-hegemonic political project that did not rely on unitary
categories such as class, in response to the identity politics of the 1970s to 1990s and post-structural
theorizing of the absence of any common (structural or cultural) basis for political transformation. The theory of
radical democracy posits that any order is an hegemonic order; the post-Marxist socialist project of Laclau and Mouffe seeks
to destabilize the hegemonies of capitalism and work towards more democratic articulations that
marginalize capital, even as forms of inequality may persist (Laclau and Mouffe 1985). Nonetheless, they can seek
more articulations, more opportunities for social protest and struggle over multiple inequalities. Each
struggle will produce—or seek to produce—new orders, or hegemonies, but these will be unseated by other
struggles; this process describes a democracy not defined solely by a capitalist hegemony. As scholars have increasingly taken neoliberalism
as the distinct form of contemporary capitalism in response to which resistance is engaged, they have explored the ways that its intense market
logic constricts possibilities for traditional political activism to engage the state: the state is responsive primarily to the logic of facilitating the
work of private capital (Brenner and Theodore 2002; Harvey 2005; Mitchell 2003; Peck and Tickell 2002; Purcell 2008). At the same time,
however, neoliberalismopens possibilities for resistance because of its internal contradictions (like all
hegemonic orders); it
simultaneously engages the state to facilitate capital expansion, yet rhetorically rejects
the state as an active player in market logics (Leitner, Peck and Sheppard 2007; Peck and Tickell 2002; Purcell 2008). In
doing so, the door is opened for alternative projects and resistances. Purcell (2008) takes up the ideals of radical
democracy to focus on how it might provide specific means for resistance to neoliberalism. He wants to take the insights of Laclau and Mouffe
and apply them to a particular, empirically informed framework for engaged activism that actually interrupts, if not challenges (and mostly not,
in his examples), neoliberalism. As a result, Purcell engages specifically with the idea of “chains of equivalence”, which he defines as “entities
[which] must simultaneously be both different and the same” (2008:74). Political coalitions and actors with shared or
complimentary challenges to neoliberalism—but distinct in character, goals, and identities—form networks of
equivalence [Purcell (2008), drawing from Hardt and Negri (2004) as well as Laclau and Mouffe (1985)]. Simply put, networks of
equivalence conceptually allow for multiple groups with different specific interests and identities to
band together to challenge the hegemony of neoliberal capitalism. The crucial point for Purcell, however, and
the key radical pluralist component is that those groups can work together without having to resolve their internal
differences; they need only share a common questioning of the neoliberal prioritizing of private capital.
They share a struggle, then, for a different hegemony (Laclau and Mouffe 1985; Purcell 2008). In the battle against global
finance, for example, activists with different specific interests (agriculture or trade policy or environmental protections) confront the state in
the form of police in the streets of Seattle or Cancun (Wainwright 2007); their objections are to the state policies and agreements which
support and create frameworks for world trade. In Purcell's (2008) networks of equivalence in Seattle, a similar, yet more spatially
circumscribed network of neighborhood community activists, environmental activists, and a Native American tribe work together to challenge
the terms of the environmental clean-up of toxins in and around the Duwamish River. Their target is the corporate interests being held
responsible for actually funding the clean-up. The agent helping to hold the corporate interests accountable is the Federal Environmental
Protection Agency (EPA). Seattle area environmental activists have been able to form a “chain of equivalence” with the EPA in the Duwamish
clean-up in part by inserting themselves into an EPA framework that seeks stakeholder input through a participatory planning structure. The
shared interests of the EPA and environmental activists are not obvious or easy to negotiate; the EPA, as a bureaucracy with many actors
situated within the US federal system, is positioned as a complex institutional agent. But its particular mandate with regard to environmental
protection offers a difficult relation to capital, one sometimes allied with non-state actors seeking limits to capital. Purcell's (2008) account of
this case is insightful and engaging. We are highly sympathetic to his project of conceptualizing resistance and, by connection, a better, more
complete democracy. But we differ over some of the details—essential details—of how best to enact successful resistances. In his case study of
the Duwamish River clean up in Seattle, Purcell (2008) cites government policies as the factor enabling community resistance and involvement.
His account is historically detailed—and necessarily so, for the complexities of the state have everything to do with the sedimented and
sometimes inherently contradictory nature of its policies and procedures. In brief, he points to the EPA, the Comprehensive Environmental
Response, Compensation, and Liability Act (CERCLA) (also known as “Superfund”), and associated environmental laws as a sort of
“environmental Keynesianism” that the federal government enacted in the decade of the 1970s (through 1980) (Purcell 2008:137). For Purcell,
the neoliberalisation of these laws is evident in the increasing local devolution of governance authority over particular Superfund sites,
including his case of the Duwamish River, resulting in “a proliferation of ad hoc and special purpose entities [that] increasingly carries out the
everyday decision-making in Superfund cleanups” (2008:137). At the same time, however, Purcell (2008:138) acknowledges “that such
‘flexibilization’ … tends to create political opportunities that social movements can exploit”. We want to engage the idea that such flexible—or
Keynesian—tools of the state are levers that can force the state to act in ways that might be counter to capital and in the service of greater
democracy. In particular, we
hope for a more complex, and, we expect, more practically productive
conceptualization of resistance in relation to the state. While Purcell (2008:38, 183, note 2,2) acknowledges resistive
possibilities from engagement with the state, he also notes that “the state is fully imbricated in the project of neoliberalization” (a point also
made elsewhere; cf Harvey 2005; Holloway 2005; Mitchell 2003; Smith 1996; Wainwright 2007). We do not disagree with the basic contention
that the state regulates and administers a hegemonic political economic order of and for capital. But the
state is complex; following the
persuasive arguments of Laclau and Mouffe (1985) and the example of the EPA in Purcell (2008), the state ought to be
conceptualized like any actor: as multifaceted, with many possible subjectivities in relation to any
particular conflict. This complexity offers the possibility that the state can be a tool for resistance, one we
explore further in the rest of this paper.
 2NC – State Good
1NC Passavant says the State is the only institution which is able to respond to
violence which means it becomes inevitable in the world of the aff.
Collapse of the State causes extinction
Rubin, 08. 1/9/, Dani, Earth Editor for PEJ News. “Beyond Post-Apocalyptic Eco-Anarchism,”
http://www.pej.org/html/modules.php?op=modload&name=News&file=article&sid=7133&mode=threa
d&order=0&thold=0.

Unlike twenty-five years ago, increasingly, people are adopting the anarcho-apocalyptic, civilization-must-fall-to-
save-the-world attitude. It is a fairly clean and tight worldview, zealously bulletproof, and it scares me. I want the natural world, the
greater community of life beyond our species, with all its beautiful and terrifying manifestations, and its vibrant landscapes to survive intact – I
think about this a lot. Aquick collapse of global civilization, will almost certainly lead to greater explosive
damage to the biosphere, than a mediated slower meltdown. When one envisions the collapse of
global society, one is not discussing the demise of an ancient Greek city-state, or even the abandonment
of an empire like the Mayans. The end of our global civilization would not only result in the death of six
billion humans, just wiping nature’s slate clean. We also have something like 5,000 nuclear facilities spread across
the planet’s surface. And this is just one obvious and straightforward fact cutting across new radical
arguments in favor of a quick fall. We have inserted ourselves into the web of life on planet Earth, into its interstitial fibers, over
the last 500 years. We are now a big part of the world’s dynamic biological equation set – its checks and balances. If we get a “fever”
and fall into social chaos, even just considering our non-nuclear toys laying about, the damage will be profound. It will be much
more devastating than our new visionaries of post-apocalyptic paradise have prophesized. If one expands
upon current examples of social chaos that we already see, like Afghanistan or Darfur, extrapolating them across the globe, encompassing
Europe, Asia, North and South America, and elsewhere, then one can easily imagine desperate outcomes where nature is sacrificed wholesale
in vain attempts to rescue human life. The outcomes would be beyond “ugly”; they would be horrific and enduring. That is why I cannot accept
this new wave of puritanical anarcho-apocalyptic theology. The
end-point of a quick collapse is quite likely to resemble
the landscape of Mars, or even perhaps the Moon. I love life. I do not want the Earth turned barren. I think that those who
are dreaming of a world returned to its wilderness state are lovely, naive romantics – dangerous ones. Imagine 100 Chernobyl’s spewing
indelible death. Imagine a landscape over-run with desperate and starving humans, wiping out one
ecosystem after another. Imagine endless tribal wars where there are no restraints on the use of
chemical and biological weapons. Imagine a failing industrial infrastructure seeping massive quantities of deadly toxins into the air,
water and soil. This is not a picture of primitive liberation, of happy post-civilized life working the organic
farm on Salt Spring Island.
 2NC – Totalitarianism Turn
The Kohn evidence says their form of studious play attempts to create a form of
justice which is not juridicial. According to Arendt, this is what ushers in forms of
totalitarianism which turns the aff because it results in more violent forms of
biopolitical control.
 2NC – Ford
The 1NC Ford evidence is excellent - it shows how the actual implementation of their
advocacy to “study” fails and results in re-absorption into the State and Capitalist
apparatus. It cites both hacking by Anonymous and the Occupy Wall Street
movement and points out that while these movements opened the door to politics,
they ultimately didn’t have the driving force to actually reshape the power structures
they were criticizing which resulted in their supporters taking other actions which
contradicted the point of the movement.
 2NR Solvency Overview

If we win that the State is inevitable, it is game over. This would mean it is absolutely
impossible for the aff’s advocacy or movement to overcome the dynamic structure of
the State which means they DO NOTHING. This is enough to vote neg on
presumption.
It also means that even if they are right that the State causes bad stuff like biopolitics,
those impacts are inevitable in the world of the aff because they’re unable to destroy
the source of the problem which according to the aff is the State.
Even if they’re able to win there is a risk of overcoming and transitioning from the
State – they don’t have an answer to the Passavant evidence which says the State is
the only institution capable of responding to real problems which means violence and
suffering are inevitable within the world of the aff.
This logic is compounded by our Kohn evidence which says their form of studious play
– one that makes justice not be juridicial – is problematic because it ushers in forms of
totalitarianism. This would turn the aff because it would make biopolitics net-worse
than within the status quo since totalitarian regimes exert more biopolitical control
than any democracy would.
Biopolitics
 1NC

Their aff is in a double-bind – either the State is so strong that it would co-opt the aff
and prevent solvency or it really isn’t that strong which means it doesn’t tip the scales
and create endless biopolitical control leading to a state of bare life.
No biopolitics impact --- democracy checks
Dickinson 4 (Edward R. – Professor of History at UC Davis, “Biopolitics, Fascism, Democracy: Some
Reflections on Our Discourse About “Modernity”,” in Central European History, Volume 37, Issue 1,
March 2004,
http://journals.cambridge.org/action/displayAbstract?fromPage=online&aid=2758180&fileId=S0008938
900002776)
And it is, of course, embedded in a broader discursive complex (institutions, professions, fields of social, medical, and psychological expertise) that pursues these
same aims in often even more effective and inescapable ways.89 In short, the continuities
between early twentieth-century
biopolitical discourse and the practices of the welfare state in our own time are unmistakable. Both are
instances of the “disciplinary society” and of biopolitical, regulatory, social-engineering modernity, and they share that genealogy with more authoritarian states,
including the National Socialist state, but also fascist Italy, for example. And
it is certainly fruitful to view them from this very
broad perspective. But that analysis can easily become superficial and misleading, because it obfuscates
the profoundly different strategic and local dynamics of power in the two kinds of regimes. Clearly the
democratic welfare state is not only formally but also substantively quite different from totalitarianism.
Above all, again, it has nowhere developed the fateful, radicalizing dynamic that characterized National

Socialism (or for that matter Stalinism), the psychotic logic that leads from economistic population management to mass murder. Again, there is always the
potential for such a discursive regime to generate coercive policies. In those cases in which the regime of rights does not successfully produce “health,” such a
system can —and historically does— create compulsory programs to enforce it. But again, there
are political and policy potentials and
constraints in such a structuring of biopolitics that are very different from those of National Socialist
Germany. Democratic biopolitical regimes require, enable, and incite a degree of self-direction and
participation that is functionally incompatible with authoritarian or totalitarian structures. And this
pursuit of biopolitical ends through a regime of democratic citizenship does appear, historically, to have
imposed increasingly narrow limits on coercive policies, and to have generated a “logic” or imperative of
increasing liberalization. Despite limitations imposed by political context and the slow pace of discursive change, I think this is the unmistakable
message of the really very impressive waves of legislative and welfare reforms in the 1920s or the 1970s in Germany.90 Of course it is not yet clear whether this is
an irreversible dynamic of such systems. Nevertheless, such regimes are characterized by sufficient degrees of autonomy (and of the potential for its expansion) for
sufficient numbers of people that I think it becomes useful to conceive of them as productive of a strategic configuration of power relations that might fruitfully be
analyzed as a condition of “liberty,” just as much as they are productive of constraint, oppression, or manipulation. At the very least, totalitarianism

cannot be the sole orientation point for our understanding of biopolitics, the only end point of the logic
of social engineering. This notion is not at all at odds with the core of Foucauldian (and Peukertian) theory.
Democratic welfare states are regimes of power/knowledge no less than early twentieth-century
totalitarian states; these systems are not “opposites,” in the sense that they are two alternative ways of organizing the same thing. But they are
two very different ways of organizing it. The concept “power” should not be read as a universal stifling
night of oppression, manipulation, and entrapment, in which all political and social orders are grey, are
essentially or effectively “the same.” Power is a set of social relations, in which individuals and groups have varying degrees of autonomy and
effective subjectivity. And discourse is, as Foucault argued, “tactically polyvalent.” Discursive elements (like the various elements of biopolitics) can be combined in
different ways to form parts of quite different strategies (like totalitarianism or the democratic welfare state); they cannot be assigned to one place in a structure,
but rather circulate. The varying possible constellations of power in modern societies create “multiple modernities,” modern societies with quite radically differing
potentials.91
Biopolitics are inevitable – they have always been present and cannot be eliminated
Connolly ’04 (William E. – Johns Hopkins Prof Political Science, “The Complexity of Sovereignty,” in
Sovereign Lives: Power in Global Politics, Ed. Edkins, Pin-Fat, and Shapiro, p. 29-30)

(2) Biopolitics and sovereignty. Agamben contends that biopolitics has become intensified today. This intensification
translates the paradox of sovereignty into a potential disaster. The analysis that he offers at this point seems not so much wrong to
me as overly formal. It reflects a classical liberal and Arendtian assumption that there was a time when politics
was restricted to public life, and biocultural life was kept in the private realm. What a joke. Every way of life involves the
infusion of norms, judgments, and standards into the affective life of participants at both private and
public levels. Every way of life is biocultural and biopolitical. Aristotle, Epicurus, Lucretius, Augustine, Spinoza, Rousseau, and
Hegel, writing during different periods, all appreciate the layering of culture into different layers of biological life and the concomitant mixing of
biology into culture. They treat the biological not as merely the genetic or fixed, but as zones of corporeality infused with cultural habits,
dispositions, sentiments, and norms. Biocultural life has been intensified today with the emergence of new technologies of infusion. But the
shift is not as radical as Agamben makes it out to be. In late-modern life, new technologies enable physicians, biolo¬gists,
geneticists, prison systems, advertisers, media talking-heads, and psy¬chiatrists to sink deeply into human biology. They help to shape the
cultural being of biology, although not always as they intend to do. Agamben's re-view of new medical technologies to keep people breathing
after their brains have stopped functioning captures something of this change, showing why a sovereign authority now has to decide when
death has arrived rather than letting that outcome express the slow play of biocultural tradition. Numerous such judgments, previously left to
religious tradition in predominantly Christian cultures, have now become explicit issues of technology and sovereignty in religiously diverse
states.

Bare life is vague – prevents resistance

Fitzpatrick, Professor of Law, 2k1 (Peter, “Bare Sovereignty: Homo Sacer and the Insistence of Law”,
Theory and Event 5:2, Project MUSE)

This distinctness
and seeming solidity appear to accommodate 'bare life as such' in terms of its being the
specular concentration of modern sovereign power (pp. 4, 188). Yet it is difficult, to say the least, to
comprehend bare life as such. Given its pervasion, how do we know where we may stand apart from it
and in some way delineate it or experientially relate to it in its bareness -- in its being 'without any
mediation', bereft of any manifesting norms and forms (p. 171)? This difficulty is heightened in bare life's
being, or also being, 'a zone of instinction and continuous transition between man and beast, nature and culture', or in its being,
or also being, a 'threshold or articulation between nature and culture, zoe and bios' -- between zoe, 'the simple fact of living' or 'simple natural
life', and bios, a mediated or 'qualified life', referring to 'the form or way of living proper to an individual or a group' (pp. 2, 109, 181). True to
its being of this 'threshold... which is neither simple natural nor social life', Agamben's account of bare
life veers from one to the other. In the result, bare life is found to be 'indeterminate and impenetrable'
(p.182).