The AFF’s fatalistic rejection of the transformative capacity of the University results in neofascist ignorance.

Academe is slipping into darkness. It is a course that was set for it ever since higher education came under the boot of neoliberalism. Nevertheless, there are a number of different ideological shades of this darkness. On the reactionary side of the darkness spectrum, there are those who favor a return to the ideals of humanism, and, on the progressive side, there are those who favor antihumanism. For some, the former ideology is a legacy of the Age of Rowling and the latter ideology a legacy of the Age of Tartt.

But such clear-cut distinctions among the ideologies of dark academe are quickly problematized if one assumes that both of these Dark Ages offer the promise of the fantasy of control, mastery of the canon, and the always already “specialness” of the individual. Why? Because antihumanism does not promise control, mastery of the canon, or individual specialness, calling the Age of Tartt—which promises control, mastery of the canon, or individual specialness—progressive is problematic. If anything because the Ages of Rowling and Tartt share humanist values, then they should both be regarded as reactionary.

Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, neither the Age of Rowling nor the Age of Tartt leave much room for a critical understanding of dark academe. The latter is achieved not by grounding dark academe in the reading habits of Gen-Z and the novelists who appeal to them, but rather in the work of critical theory. Thus, given the ideological problems of grounding dark academe in the Ages of Rowling and Tartt; the fact that these ideologies are primarily utilized in support of a fading Gen-Z fashion trend; and the absence of critique in the Ages of Rowling and Tartt, this book will turn elsewhere for a critical ideology of dark academe.

Though some believe that dark academe is nothing more than a youth fashion trend or a category of contemporary fiction, this book argues that it is something much deeper and more dangerous. The argument it makes is that a critical understanding of dark academe is vital to the futures of democracy and education. Drawing upon contemporary literary and cultural theory, particularly, affect theory, queer epistemology, and critical race theory, as well as critiques of capitalism and accounts of the death drive, it builds a case for identifying dark academe as anything that prohibits the pursuit of democratic education and critical citizenship. Nevertheless, as Chaps. 2 and 3 argue, dark times require a reassessment of the ways theory and knowledge are approached in the humanities.

This is necessary if the aim is to truly understand the darkness at the heart of the higher education today.

Chapter 2, “Dark Infrastructure,” proposes an alternative way to study theory in dark times. It argues that if this infrastructural approach to theory is adopted in the academy, it has the potential to initiate the process of fixing the failures of neoliberal academe. It is argued that it is perhaps the only approach to theory with the capacity to fix the failures of neoliberal academe as opposed to compound them. Consequently, it demonstrates both the potential value of theory in the humanities and a means to dissipating the darkness that neoliberalism has cast over higher education.

Chapter 3, “Are All Professors Paranoid?,” and Chapter 4, “Affective Education,” then argue that a complete account of dark academe is not possible without taking stock of the affective dimensions of neoliberal academe. By utilizing the Deleuzian affect theories of Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, and Hardt and Antonio Negri, the study of academe becomes not the quest for educational utopia, but rather effectively the study of non-places of higher education. Affective academe as presented here involves the use of strong theories of paranoia, pandemic, and labor, which in turn provide an alternative epistemology of dark academe. It suggests that non-affective studies of academe are limited by the foundational epistemologies and essentialist metaphysics that they imply.

Chapters 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 then proceed to take up in turn some of the other key dimensions of dark academe: racism (Chap. 5), ignorance and conspiracy (Chap. 6), fascism and totalitarianism (Chap. 7), cynicism (Chap. 8), dread and fear (Chap. 9), and capitalism and the death drive (Chap. 10). One of the consistent themes in these chapters is that when theory and critique are challenged, and antitheory and postcritique are allowed to flourish in higher education, then academe moves ever closer toward its darkest hour. Conversely, when theory and critique are pursued, then the humanities can show its true value in the new millennium by being a leading force against neofascist, neo-totalitarian, and neo-Nazi ideologies. In short, attacks on theory are regarded here as the agents of dark academe.

Dark academe works to negate education and learning by continuously telling us that the quest for knowledge is empty, and the pursuit of critique is blind. In this educational darkness, neoliberal academe becomes a force that works against intellectual transformation and the deepening of critical sights. Nevertheless, when such forces are identifed, they must be rejected as a destructive form of indoctrination—a form of indoctrination that paves the way for a repetition of the horrifc educational legacies associated with world conquest and its domination. Dark academe is the central signifer for the horrors of higher education in the new millennium. It is one that reminds us that if the work of theory and the humanities truly becomes empty knowledge and blind critique, then expect dark academe to fnally become a meaningful fashion statement—one symbolized by a neofascist patch that is required to be worn by everyone who works in higher education.