exactitude, this perfect utopia outside the world without which knowledge will only be laughable, only be an accumulation, a copy. To be sure, no one has ever seen, touched, felt, heard, nor tasted this strange non-sensible space, no one has ever experienced the curious objects which fill it, and yet we know nothing about our world without that space and without these objects. It is pure utopia, and the objects of the world are gathered in it. If someone seeks a space or an object outside the emprise of the tomb, outside the reach of power and glory, if someone seeks a place without stake, without fetish, without merchandise, if he seeks utopia, you will say of this ridiculous seeker that he will not find a world which does not exist, that no one has ever seen a space where things gather abstractly by themselves. And yet, those anonymous Greek ancestors have seen it. They have seen it, and we have seen it through them and thanks to them. And we have never gained any knowledge but thanks to this space. And since they are still anonymous, they have been chased even from posthumous glory, from apotheosis. And it is perhaps because they have detached themselves from this kind of glory that they have conquered that world, the condition of knowledge. And it was the birth of knowledge. Alexander the Great lets his long shadow drag on Diogenes the dog. Ostentatiously deployed, the entire scale of greatness plunges knowledge into shadow. After the great beginning of each science, anyone could exert himself to become great in the order of knowledge. All sorts of Alexanders of knowledge could be seen taking shape. Knowledge was filled with stakes, fetishes, merchandise. Instead of pursuing the glory of arms, of rank, or of gold, one saw people, otherwise reputed wise, pursuing the glory of knowledge. Once again, the sciences began to plunge by themselves into the shadow. The era of inventions was closed. Scientists receive from their skills only social rewards, positions, prizes, renown. At birth, their knowledge was devoid of stakes, fetishes, merchandise. Now the objects of knowledge are full of these. Knowledge has become a common world, that of Alexander. This content downloaded from 157.55.39.17 on Fri, 02 Sep 2016 06:09:22 UTC All use subject to http://about.jstor.org/terms Stakes, Fetishes, Merchandise 13 Knowledge no longer makes the worker better, and the improvement of the subject no longer reveals new objects. No, the scientists see their power grow, therefore their shadow. They see their size and their glory grow, therefore their shadow. They see their treasures grow, their importance, their power, and the long shadow of Hiroshima stretches over the world. Here they are like everyone else, foolish, arrogant, conceited, dull, cheating and competing like vulgar kings of glory. The great shadow of Alexander once again shrouds knowledge. The work improves the worker who improves the work, each making its place in the liveliness and breadth of the other. The work which does not improve the worker is only the work of death, a shadow, a banal work, a banal glory, an ordinary plague. The world is spacious and beautiful. It is so beautiful that the worker who made it all week long, suddenly, one fine Sunday, became God. Recognizing that his work was good, he became good in front of the beautiful world. If science was good and beautiful, scientists would transfigure themselves in the process of working with such matter, and that would be noticeable. If scientists became better, better because of their work, that would be the sign that this work is good, and that science is outside the shadow of Alexander, and that would be noticeable. It is because science is not good and beautiful that this change does not occur. Perhaps one must invent, urgently, a new science through which the scientists can improve themselves: Come on, Alexander, remove your shadow! Stated differently though still badly: if epistemology is reduced to a logic of various methods in progress, plus a concrete sociology of groups in conflict, then science is but ordinary garbage. Everything in it comes from power and becomes power, comes from glory and becomes glory, comes from gold and transmutes itself into gold. Contemporary science, which for a long time has penetrated the secrets, the ancient secrets of transmutation, will cover itself with historical shame in having discovered the philosopher's stone backward. Everything, in the end, is transmuted into gold, but the worker remains unchanged. This content downloaded from 157.55.39.17 on Fri, 02 Sep 2016 06:09:22 UTC All use subject to http://about.jstor.org/terms