The Crisis of Explanation and the Fetish of Narration: A Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han

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(In Turkish: Žižek’s response, Explaining Concepts)

In The Crisis of Narration, Byung-Chul Han constructs an ambitious diagnosis of late modernity’s malaise, framing it as a crisis of storytelling. For Han, narration (Erzählung) is not merely an aesthetic or cultural practice but a fundamental human capacity that binds communities, generates meaning, and establishes coherence in the chaotic flux of existence. Against this ideal of narration, Han pits the forces of late capitalist commodification, the informatization of life, and the neoliberal logic of performance and consumption. In his view, these forces undermine the integrative power of storytelling, reducing it to a mere instrument of manipulation—what he terms “storyselling.” Narration, once a source of ontological and communal grounding, is now ephemeral, fragmented, and commodified, unable to resist the dehumanizing tide of modern life.

At first glance, Han’s lament for the loss of narration seems like a noble effort to salvage meaning in an era of disconnection. Yet his book reveals a deeper issue: The Crisis of Narration is less an analysis of the contemporary condition than a nostalgic defense of storytelling as an ontological fetish. Han’s uncritical idealization of Erzählung blinds him to the necessity of Erklärung (explanation), the critical practice of interrogating the systems and structures that produce the very crisis he describes. In every chapter, Han celebrates narration as a universal balm for alienation, fragmentation, and commodification, yet he systematically avoids confronting the material and ideological conditions that render narration powerless in the face of these forces.

This Žižekian critique takes up Han’s chapters one by one, exposing how his idealization of narration functions ideologically. Through his romanticization of storytelling, Han offers a comforting narrative about the power of narrative itself—a circular logic that flatters its own storytelling while disavowing the critical potential of explanation. Where narration seeks coherence, explanation reveals contradictions; where narration consoles, explanation disrupts; where narration offers closure, explanation resists it. Han’s rejection of explanation, veiled by his defense of storytelling, is not an innocent preference—it is an evasion of the systemic critique necessary to understand the dynamics of late modernity.

Narration and the Veil of Ideology

In The Crisis of Narration, Han frames storytelling as a universal human practice with ontological and therapeutic significance. Narration, for Han, is “healing,” offering meaning and coherence where life appears fragmented and meaningless. Yet this framing reduces narration to an ideological veil, smoothing over the ruptures and contradictions that define modern life. Han writes of narration as if it exists outside of history, as a timeless capacity that transcends social and material conditions. In doing so, he obscures the ways in which storytelling has always been shaped by power structures, whether through myths that sustain domination, nationalist narratives that enforce exclusion, or the commodified storytelling of modern capitalism.

Han’s insistence that “living is narrating” reflects his deeper fetishization of storytelling as a pure, untainted act. Yet this romanticization fails to account for the ways in which narration itself is complicit in the systems Han critiques. Narratives, no less than algorithms or data, can function as instruments of commodification, manipulation, and control. By elevating narration as an ontological ideal, Han avoids engaging with its ideological functions, reducing the crisis of narration to a sentimental lament for lost meaning rather than a structural critique of its commodification.

Erklärung: The Disavowed Antagonist

Throughout The Crisis of Narration, Han contrasts the richness of narration with the sterility of explanation. Explanation, for Han, is opposed to the integrative and emotional power of storytelling; it is mechanical, reductive, and incapable of producing meaning. In his view, explanation dissects the world into fragments, while narration weaves these fragments into a coherent whole. Yet this binary between narration and explanation is a false opposition, one that reflects Han’s disavowal of explanation’s critical potential.

Explanation does not aim to console or integrate—it seeks to expose. Where narration veils contradictions in a comforting story, explanation unmasks the systems of power, ideology, and commodification that produce those contradictions. Han’s rejection of explanation is not merely a philosophical preference; it is an ideological gesture that flattens critique into nostalgia. By disavowing explanation, Han’s critique of modernity becomes complicit in the very dynamics it seeks to resist, offering a sentimental ideal of narration that veils more than it reveals.

Storytelling as Storyselling

Han’s critique of the commodification of storytelling—what he calls “storyselling”—is one of the central themes of The Crisis of Narration. For Han, storytelling has been instrumentalized by capitalism, transformed into a tool for manipulation and consumption. “In the age of storytelling,” Han writes, “we consume more narratives than things. Narrative content is more important than use value.” Yet Han’s critique of storyselling remains superficial, focused on the symptoms rather than the causes of commodification.

The transformation of storytelling into a commodity is not an accidental degradation of a pure practice; it is a structural outcome of capitalism’s logic. By reducing the problem to a crisis of storytelling, Han avoids engaging with the systemic dynamics that produce this commodification. Explanation, unlike narration, does not seek to restore storytelling to an idealized past; it interrogates the forces that render storytelling a tool of commodification. Han’s critique of storyselling fails because it clings to narration as a sacred ideal, refusing to confront its complicity in the systems it critiques.

The Crisis of Narration as Ideological Fetish

The central irony of The Crisis of Narration is that it exemplifies the very crisis it seeks to diagnose. Han’s fetishization of narration reflects the broader crisis of meaning in late modernity, where storytelling becomes a substitute for critical engagement. By romanticizing narration as the foundation of meaning, community, and political action, Han offers a comforting narrative about the power of storytelling while disavowing the critical tools necessary to confront the forces that fragment and commodify life.

This Žižekian critique exposes the ideological function of Han’s idealization of narration, chapter by chapter. It reveals how his insistence on the primacy of Erzählung reflects a deeper refusal to engage with Erklärung, the very practice that could illuminate the systemic contradictions at the heart of the crisis he describes. By replacing explanation with narration, Han’s critique becomes a story that flatters its own storytelling, avoiding the disruptive power of critique in favor of the comforting illusion of coherence.

Towards a Critique of the Crisis

To truly address the crisis of narration, we must move beyond Han’s nostalgic ideal of storytelling and embrace explanation as a mode of critique. Explanation does not seek to narrate life into coherence; it exposes the contradictions and systems of power that fragment it. Narration, as Han idealizes it, is not a solution to the crisis of modernity—it is part of the problem, a comforting veil that obscures the systemic dynamics of commodification and control.

This book-length critique confronts Han’s romanticization of narration with the disruptive force of explanation. Each chapter dismantles Han’s idealization of storytelling, exposing its ideological function and its complicity in the very systems it claims to resist. By refusing explanation, Han’s The Crisis of Narration becomes a story about storytelling, trapped in the very commodified logic it seeks to critique. Only through explanation—through a critical engagement with the systems that produce the crisis—can we move beyond the comforting illusions of narration and confront the realities of late modernity.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s The Crisis of Narration Preface

Byung-Chul Han, in The Crisis of Narration, laments the loss of Erzählung (narration) as a grounding force of meaning, claiming that the inflation of “narrative” is evidence of its dysfunction. Han equates narration with a cohesive, binding sense of being, which he contrasts with the fleeting, consumerist “storytelling” that dominates the post-narrative age. Yet, in his critique, Han inadvertently disavows the potential of Erklärung (explanation), which he positions as an antagonist to narration. This disavowal reveals not only the limits of Han’s argument but also his own complicity in the narrative crisis he critiques.

The Fetishization of Narration

Han asserts that narration creates a “closed order” that “founds meaning and identity.” This closure is, for Han, a form of existential anchoring—a way to turn contingency into necessity. But this very insistence on closure reveals Han’s fetishization of narration. By treating narration as a sacred form that is under siege, Han not only romanticizes its historical role but also denies the dialectical tension between narration and explanation. Narration, in Han’s framework, is the antidote to contingency, while explanation, with its openness to contingency, is cast as its corrosive counterpart.

Yet Han fails to ask: was narration ever truly closed? He writes, “Religion is a typical narrative with an inner moment of truth. It narrates contingency away.” But isn’t this precisely the problem? To “narrate contingency away” is to repress explanation, to foreclose the possibility of questioning the narrative itself. Narration’s alleged inner truth is not a resolution of contingency but its domestication, its transformation into an ideological tool. Han’s nostalgia for religious narratives as anchors of being thus betrays a longing not for truth but for the illusion of stability.

The Crisis of Explanation

Han’s critique falters most when he positions storytelling and information as mere symptoms of de-narrativization. He writes, “Information intensifies the experience of contingency, whereas narration reduces it by turning the accidental into necessity.” Here, Han privileges the reductive operation of narration over the generative potential of explanation. Explanation does not seek to “reduce” contingency but to illuminate it, to hold it up to scrutiny. By insisting on the supremacy of narration, Han erases the possibility that explanation might offer an alternative form of meaning-making.

Han writes, “A narrative, by contrast, brings forth a temporal continuum, that is, a story.” Yet is this continuum not precisely what is shattered in explanation? Explanation fragments time into its contingencies, refuses the false unity of a “story,” and insists on the possibility of new beginnings. Han dismisses this fragmentation as alienating, but perhaps it is precisely this alienation that is needed to confront the post-narrative era. The crisis is not the absence of narrative but the refusal to engage with explanation as a mode of thought.

Storytelling as Commodity or Subversion?

Han critiques storytelling as “storyselling,” claiming that it reduces narrative to a commodified form of consumption. “Storytelling produces narratives in a consumable form,” he writes, “charging products with emotion.” Yet Han’s dismissal of storytelling ignores its subversive potential. While commodified storytelling might lack the “inner moment of truth” he idealizes, it also destabilizes the closed forms of narration he defends. If storytelling is “contingent, exchangeable and modifiable,” as Han argues, it is because it reflects the fluidity of contemporary life. Han sees this fluidity as a threat, but it might also be an opportunity—a space where explanation could flourish.

Han’s critique of storytelling is most revealing when he writes, “Posting, liking and sharing content are consumerist practices that intensify the narrative crisis.” This condemnation misses the deeper potential of these practices: the possibility of collective explanation. While social media often traffics in shallow forms of storytelling, it also creates spaces for the sharing and contestation of explanations. Han dismisses this possibility because it does not conform to his ideal of the cohesive narrative community, but it is precisely this ideal that must be interrogated.

The Return of Explanation

Han concludes that “storytelling is unable to transform the information society, which is devoid of orientation and meaning, back into a stable narrative community.” This conclusion, however, betrays Han’s own refusal to engage with the potential of explanation. The problem is not that we live in a post-narrative time but that we have failed to embrace the possibilities of explanation as a mode of being. Explanation does not offer closure or stability; it offers the unsettling possibility of critique, the opening of new paths rather than the closure of old ones.

In this sense, Han’s lament for narration is not merely nostalgic but regressive. He writes, “When everything becomes contingent, fleeting and accidental, and all that is binding and unifying dissolves… there is a clamour for storytelling.” But this clamour is not for storytelling alone; it is also for explanation—for a mode of thought that confronts contingency without seeking to narrate it away. By disavowing explanation, Han perpetuates the very crisis he seeks to critique.

Conclusion: From Narrative to Critique

Han’s The Crisis of Narration is ultimately a crisis of explanation. His romanticization of narration blinds him to the possibilities of explanation as a mode of meaning-making that does not rely on closure or illusion. If narration is, as Han claims, the transformation of “being-in-the-world into being-at-home,” then explanation is its radical counterpart: the insistence on being-in-question. Rather than lament the loss of narrative, we must embrace the challenge of explanation—a challenge that does not promise stability but demands critique. In this way, we might finally move beyond the crisis of narration and into the terrain of thought.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s From Narration to Information: The Crisis of Explanation in the Aura of the Digital

In From Narration to Information, Byung-Chul Han crafts a lamentation for the decline of Erzählung (narration) in the face of the deluge of information. For Han, narration represents a temporal and spatial structure that nurtures meaning and creates a sense of distance, a contemplative aura. By contrast, information is gapless, ephemeral, and devoid of the “germinal force” that Han ascribes to narrative. Han’s binary opposition—narration as meaning versus information as emptiness—rests, however, on an unacknowledged disavowal of Erklärung (explanation). His critique of modernity’s descent into informational overload is simultaneously a rejection of explanation, a refusal to interrogate the historical processes that shape the very dynamics he critiques.

The Seduction of Distance

Han romanticizes the “distance” inherent in narration, claiming, “The aura is narrative because it is impregnated by distance. By removing distance, information, by contrast, de-auratizes and disenchants the world.” Here, Han idealizes the aura as a timeless space of reflection, but he fails to recognize that this very “distance” was always mediated by structures of power and ideology. Narration, in Han’s terms, is sacrosanct because it withholds explanation: “Herodotus offers no explanations. His report is utterly dry.” This deliberate withholding is celebrated as a condition of narrative tension, but does this withholding not also foreclose critique? The refusal to explain preserves the mystique of the narrative, but it simultaneously functions as a form of domination, sustaining the illusion of meaning without inviting interrogation.

In his veneration of Herodotus, Han celebrates astonishment as the hallmark of true storytelling. He writes, “Any attempt to explain why the Egyptian king began to lament only when he saw his servant would destroy the narrative tension.” Yet, this refusal to explain reduces narration to a performative spectacle—a seed of astonishment that can never germinate into understanding. By dismissing explanation, Han inadvertently reinforces the very passivity that he critiques in the age of information.

The Gaplessness of Information

Han describes modernity’s “progressive demolition of farness” as the hallmark of information’s destructive power: “Information is a genuine expression of a gaplessness that makes everything available.” For Han, this gaplessness annihilates both distance and nearness, leaving us in a state of total availability. Yet, is this not an overly reductive account of information itself? While it is true that information lacks the temporal breadth of narration, it possesses its own potential for critique—a potential that Han ignores in his insistence on narration’s superiority.

Han writes, “Information does not survive the moment it is registered; it lives only at that moment.” But why must information’s ephemerality be a mark of its inferiority? If information is fleeting, it also demands immediacy, a confrontation with the present that narration, in its longing for distance, often avoids. Explanation, unlike narration, does not seek to transport us to an enchanted elsewhere; it forces us to reckon with the here and now. Han’s critique of information’s temporality as shallow overlooks the possibility that this very transience might open pathways to critical engagement.

The Crisis of Boredom

Han laments the loss of “boredom,” which he describes as the fertile ground for storytelling: “Boredom is the ‘dream bird that hatches the egg of experience.’” For Han, the noise of information—the “rustling in the leaves”—prevents the deep mental relaxation necessary for narration. Yet, is this nostalgia for boredom not itself an escapist fantasy? Han’s privileging of narration as a contemplative practice ignores its complicity in sustaining ideological structures that thrive on passivity. Boredom may indeed hatch the “dream bird,” but it also risks incubating complacency, a retreat from the urgent need to explain and act.

Han contrasts the relaxed community of narration with the fragmented solitude of the information age: “A narrative creates community; a novel, however, is born of the lonely, isolated individual.” But what kind of community does narration create? By refusing explanation, narration consolidates its authority, demanding obedience to its enigmatic spell. Explanation, by contrast, is disruptive—it does not create harmonious communities but fractured spaces of critique where unity is neither assumed nor imposed.

The Algorithmic Puppet: Domination and Illusion

Han’s most compelling insight lies in his critique of the algorithmic domination that defines the digital age. He writes, “Freedom is not repressed but comprehensively exploited. It turns into control and manipulation.” In this information regime, we are reduced to data points, subject to “an automatic, mechanical process that is directed by algorithms.” Han’s invocation of Georg Büchner’s remark—“We are puppets, our strings are pulled by unknown forces”—captures the insidious nature of this domination. Yet, even here, Han’s nostalgia for narration prevents him from considering explanation as a means of resistance.

For Han, the “rustling digital leaves” of the internet drive away the contemplative bird of narration. But this metaphor underestimates the potential of digital spaces as arenas for critical explanation. While algorithms may exploit and manipulate, they also create opportunities for counter-narratives and explanations that challenge the hegemony of information. The problem is not information per se but the lack of structures that enable its critical interrogation.

Narration, Explanation, and the Politics of Meaning

Han concludes that narration is essential for meaning-making, while information represents its negation: “A narrative often has something wondrous and mysterious around its edges. It is incompatible with information, which represents the opposite of the secret.” This binary is both seductive and flawed. By rejecting explanation, Han confines meaning to the mystique of narration, denying the emancipatory potential of understanding. Explanation does not negate wonder; it reorients it. To explain is to ask why the narrative functions as it does, to confront the structures that make narration possible and to imagine alternatives.

Han insists that “the narrative community is a community of careful listeners.” Yet this community, with its emphasis on self-forgetfulness, risks becoming a space of passive consumption. Explanation demands a different kind of community—one that listens not to marvel but to question, to interrupt, and to respond. Han’s disavowal of explanation leaves his critique incomplete, a lamentation that refuses the possibility of transformation.

Conclusion: The Aura of Explanation

In From Narration to Information, Han mourns the loss of narration’s aura, claiming that information de-auratizes and flattens reality. But this nostalgia blinds him to the potential of explanation to create a new kind of aura—one that does not rely on mystique but on critique. Explanation does not destroy narrative tension; it transforms it into a productive space of inquiry. Han’s refusal to embrace explanation as a mode of thought ultimately perpetuates the very crisis he seeks to critique, leaving us suspended between the enchantment of narration and the disorientation of information. To move forward, we must embrace explanation not as a negation of narration but as its dialectical counterpart—a force that does not merely astonish but illuminates.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s The Poverty of Experience: A Narrative Disavowal of Explanation

Byung-Chul Han’s chapter The Poverty of Experience unfolds as a lamentation for the loss of experience in modernity, a loss tied, in his view, to the erosion of narrative’s binding power. Han frames this “poverty of experience” as a crisis that leaves us adrift in fragmented, present-oriented existence, devoid of temporal depth or the hope that narrative provides. Yet Han’s lament is marked by a deeper contradiction: his defense of Erzählung (narration) is built upon a rejection of Erklärung (explanation), which he disavows as antithetical to storytelling. This disavowal, however, not only undermines his critique but also exposes its ideological reliance on the mystique of narration as an unexamined good.

The Fable of Narration

Han begins with Benjamin’s fable of the father who tells his sons of a treasure buried in a vineyard, which is revealed to be the wisdom of hard work. “Experience is characterized by the fact that it is passed down from one generation to the next through narration,” Han asserts. Yet does this fable not already demonstrate the limits of narration itself? The father’s story is a riddle, and its meaning—a moral about labor—is not embedded in the narration but extracted through effort. The story requires explanation to become wisdom. Han’s insistence that “wisdom is narrated truth” overlooks that truth, in this case, emerges through labor and interpretation, not merely through the narrative itself.

Han laments, “Communicable experience passed on by word of mouth is becoming increasingly rare. Nothing is passed down; nothing is narrated.” Yet what if the crisis of experience is not the absence of narration but the refusal to move beyond it? The father’s fable, like all stories, only gestures at truth—it does not contain it. Explanation, the act of unraveling the narrative, is what allows wisdom to emerge.

The Narrative Community and Its Exclusions

For Han, narration fosters community: “The storyteller ‘is a man who has counsel for his listeners.’” This counsel, however, “does not simply provide solutions to problems. Rather, it suggests how a story is to be continued.” Yet in Han’s conception, this continuation excludes explanation, which he positions as antithetical to the narrative form. Han cites Benjamin: “The art of storytelling is nearing its end because the epic side of truth, wisdom, is dying out.” This critique implicitly blames modernity’s emphasis on problem-solving for the death of narrative wisdom, but does this framing not conceal a deeper ideological function?

By refusing explanation, Han’s “narrative community” becomes a space of passive acceptance, where wisdom is received as an unquestioned inheritance. Explanation, by contrast, disrupts the closure of narrative—it does not suggest “how a story is to be continued” but questions why it began and who benefits from its telling. The community Han idealizes is thus defined by its exclusion of critique, its insistence on the unbroken transmission of narrated truths.

The Poverty of Experience or the Poverty of Explanation?

Han romanticizes experience as a stabilizing force: “Experience stabilizes life and makes the narration of life possible. When experience disintegrates, all that is left is bare life, a kind of survival.” Yet Han fails to interrogate the ideological role of experience itself. What is experience, if not the sedimentation of past explanations into narrative form? The stability Han mourns is not intrinsic to experience but imposed by its narrative framing. The loss of this stability, far from a catastrophe, may instead represent the opening of new possibilities—a liberation from the constraints of inherited narratives.

Han criticizes modernity’s disintegration of experience, describing it as a “force field of destructive torrents and explosions.” Yet this critique betrays his nostalgia for a premodern order in which experience functioned as a binding force. By clinging to the stabilizing role of experience, Han dismisses the emancipatory potential of its disintegration. Modernity’s “poverty of experience” is not merely a loss; it is also a challenge to reimagine how we construct meaning—a challenge that demands explanation, not narration.

Barbarism and the Tabula Rasa

Han acknowledges Benjamin’s ambivalence, quoting his claim that the poverty of experience introduces “a new, positive concept of barbarism.” For Benjamin, the new barbarians “begin with a tabula rasa” and embrace the passion of the new. Yet Han distances himself from this emancipatory vision, contrasting modernity’s revolutionary “sense of beginning” with late modernity’s stagnant “on and on.” This critique overlooks the continuity between the “constructors” Benjamin celebrates and the explanatory ethos that Han rejects.

Han cites Descartes as a paradigm of the new barbarian: “Such a constructor was Descartes, who required nothing more to launch his entire philosophy than the single certitude, ‘I think, therefore I am.’” Yet does this not precisely illustrate the power of explanation? Descartes’s radical doubt dismantles the inherited narratives of tradition, clearing the way for a new framework of thought. Han’s critique of late modernity’s lack of “narrative courage” fails to acknowledge that courage may lie not in narration but in explanation—the willingness to interrogate and reconstruct the narratives we inherit.

The Aura of the Future

Han contrasts modernity’s visionary narratives with late modernity’s lack of “narrative courage.” He writes, “Late modernity does not know the ‘sense of beginning,’ the passion of ‘beginning from the start.’” Yet Han’s nostalgia for the narratives of modernity blinds him to their own ideological function. The “grand narratives” of progress and revolution that he romanticizes are themselves constructs that demand explanation. Han dismisses late modernity’s “lack of aura” as a failure, but what if this lack is an opportunity—a chance to reject the mystique of narrative and embrace the clarity of explanation?

Han concludes, “A life that trudges along from one present moment to the next, from one crisis to the next, slows to a mere survival. Living is more than just problem solving.” Yet this dismissal of problem-solving as reductive overlooks its transformative potential. Explanation, the act of addressing problems, is not a denial of narrative but its radical reinvention—a way to construct new futures rather than clinging to the past.

Conclusion: From Narration to Critique

Han’s The Poverty of Experience is a defense of narration that hinges on the exclusion of explanation. By romanticizing experience as a stabilizing force and lamenting its loss, Han obscures the emancipatory potential of its disintegration. Narration, in his framework, is sacrosanct because it resists explanation, preserving the mystique of inherited truths. Yet this resistance is precisely what sustains the ideological function of narrative, rendering it a tool of domination rather than liberation.

To move beyond the poverty of experience, we must embrace explanation as a mode of critique that does not merely continue the story but questions its premise. Explanation disrupts the closure of narrative, opening spaces for new forms of meaning and community. In this sense, the true “sense of beginning” lies not in the nostalgia for lost narratives but in the courage to explain—to confront the poverty of experience as an invitation to think anew.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s The Narrated Life: The Fetish of Narration and the Disavowal of Explanation

Byung-Chul Han’s chapter The Narrated Life is a full-throated defense of Erzählung (narration) against the onslaught of data-driven digital modernity, which Han argues erodes the narrative structure of human life. For Han, narration is the thread that weaves past, present, and future into a meaningful whole, anchoring existence and countering the “momentary actualities” of information. Yet Han’s critique relies on a fundamental contradiction: while he elevates narration as the essence of selfhood, he dismisses Erklärung (explanation)—the very process that could clarify and interrogate the structures of narration itself. This refusal to explain narration’s own ideological function reduces his critique to nostalgia for a lost ideal.

The Muscle of Narration and the Disintegration of Time

Han, quoting Walter Benjamin, describes life as “a muscle strong enough to contract the whole of historical time.” Narration, for Han, is this muscular force: “Happiness feeds off all that has been part of a life. It does not have a shiny appearance; its appearance is an afterglow.” Yet, does this romanticized musculature not betray an unwillingness to question what this contraction achieves? To contract time into a narrative arc is to impose coherence, to eliminate the unruly contingencies that might resist narration’s unifying drive. Han’s muscle of narration is not a source of salvation but a mechanism of suppression.

Han laments the “storm of contingency” that digital modernity unleashes, arguing that “there can be no happiness for us” without the narrative integration of past and present. Yet he fails to acknowledge that the fragmentation of time—this storm of contingency—is precisely what explanation seeks to illuminate. Explanation does not contract time into a coherent whole; it dissects and examines its ruptures, creating space for critical reflection rather than nostalgic redemption.

Heidegger and the Pre-Narrative Unity of the Self

Han draws heavily on Heidegger’s Being and Time, arguing that modernity’s fragmentation of existence undermines the “whole of existence stretched along” between birth and death. For Han, Heidegger’s Dasein embodies a “pre-narrative unity” that guarantees temporal continuity. “The ‘constancy of the self’ represents the central temporal axis that must protect us against the fragmentation of time,” Han asserts. Yet is this pre-narrative self not itself a fiction—a narrative about the impossibility of fragmentation?

Han’s reliance on Heidegger reveals his aversion to explanation. Heidegger’s “authentic historicality” is not a historical process but an ahistorical assertion of selfhood that resists interrogation. Han writes, “Dasein assures itself of itself before it creates a coherent worldly story of itself.” This pre-narrative assurance is a refusal to engage with the explanatory labor of connecting selfhood to the material and historical conditions that produce it. Han’s critique thus collapses into a defense of the narrative form as a sacred ideal, immune to the explanatory processes that might challenge its authority.

Digitalization and the Death of Narration

Han argues that digital platforms fragment time and replace narration with “momentary actualities” that have no narrative duration. He writes, “Selfies aim not at remembrance but at communication. Ultimately, they announce the end of the human being as someone with a fate and a history.” For Han, digital temporality is antithetical to the narrative unity of existence. Yet does this critique not overstate the purity of narration? The narratives Han defends are themselves constructs, shaped by the same technological and social forces he decries.

Han claims, “On digital platforms, lived moments cannot be digested and condensed in a reflexive and narrative manner.” But why must this be lamented? The disintegration of lived moments into fragments opens the possibility for explanation—a way to examine how these fragments are produced, consumed, and given meaning. Explanation does not seek to restore narrative unity; it confronts the contingencies that narration seeks to resolve. By rejecting explanation, Han forecloses the possibility of engaging with the digital world on its own terms, retreating instead into a nostalgic ideal of narrative coherence.

The Myth of the Transparent Narrative

Han critiques the “transparency society” of digital modernity, arguing that it destroys the gaps and silences necessary for narration and remembrance. “To be able to narrate or remember, one must be able to forget or leave out a great deal,” he writes. For Han, transparency spells the end of narrative, replacing it with data-driven surveillance and control. Yet Han’s emphasis on the selective nature of narrative exposes its ideological function: what is forgotten or excluded from a narrative is precisely what explanation seeks to recover.

Han writes, “The transparency society spells the end of narrative and remembrance.” But this critique assumes that narrative and remembrance are inherently liberatory. In truth, the selective nature of narrative can serve as a tool of domination, silencing what does not fit its structure. Explanation, by contrast, does not rely on the gaps and silences that narrative requires; it exposes them. Han’s defense of narrative coherence thus masks an unwillingness to confront the exclusions and repressions that narration entails.

Quantification and the Illusion of Self-Knowledge

Han critiques the rise of self-tracking technologies, arguing that they replace narrative self-reflection with quantifiable data: “Self-knowledge can be generated only through narration. I must narrate myself. But numbers do not narrate anything.” Han dismisses “Self-Knowledge through Numbers” as an illusion, but his critique rests on the assumption that narrative is the only valid form of self-representation. Quantification, like narration, is a tool; its value lies not in its form but in how it is used.

Han’s insistence that “the self is not a quantity but a quality” ignores the potential for explanation to bridge the gap between quantification and self-reflection. Data, when critically examined, can illuminate the structures and forces that shape the self. Han rejects this possibility, clinging instead to narration as the only path to self-knowledge. This rejection reveals his deeper disavowal of explanation, which threatens to undermine the sanctity of the narrative self.

The Razor Blade of Remembrance

Han concludes with an analysis of Black Mirror’s The Entire History of You, arguing that the total transparency of recorded memories destroys the possibility of narration. “Remembrance is not a mechanical repetition of an earlier experience but a narrative that must be recounted again and again,” he writes. For Han, narration depends on the gaps and silences that transparency eliminates. Yet this critique ignores the ways in which explanation can function as an alternative to narrative. Explanation does not require the selective forgetting that narration demands; it engages directly with the material and historical realities that narration excludes.

Han’s invocation of the protagonist cutting out his memory implant as a rejection of transparency reinforces his romanticization of narrative as a site of resistance. Yet this act is not a rejection of explanation but of the mechanical reproduction of experience. True resistance lies not in defending the gaps of narration but in confronting the structures that produce both narration and transparency.

Conclusion: The Disavowal of Explanation

In The Narrated Life, Han elevates narration as the essence of human existence, contrasting it with the fragmented temporality of digital modernity. Yet his defense of narration depends on the disavowal of explanation, which he rejects as antithetical to the narrative form. This disavowal reveals the ideological function of narration in Han’s critique: it is not a tool of liberation but a means of preserving a coherent selfhood that resists interrogation.

To move beyond Han’s nostalgic defense of narration, we must embrace explanation as a mode of critique that challenges the exclusions and repressions inherent in narrative coherence. Explanation does not seek to restore a lost unity; it exposes the fractures and contingencies that narration seeks to conceal. By refusing explanation, Han traps himself in a narrative that cannot account for its own construction, leaving us with a critique that merely reproduces the crisis it seeks to address.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s Bare Life: The Fetish of Narration as a Flight from Explanation

In Bare Life, Byung-Chul Han argues that narration rescues existence from its unbearable nakedness and meaninglessness. For Han, life without narration is reduced to “sheer facticity,” a “buzzing” of unconnected moments devoid of coherence. Yet Han’s defense of narration reveals a deeper disavowal of explanation (Erklärung), which he rejects as incompatible with the narrative imagination. By positioning narration as the only remedy for bare life, Han avoids confronting the ideological function of narration itself and forecloses the possibility of addressing life’s nakedness through critical explanation.

Nausea and the Facticity of Being

Han opens with Roquentin from Sartre’s Nausea, whose existential crisis arises from the “sheer facticity” of the world: “The Nausea is not inside me: I feel it out there in the wall, in the suspenders, everywhere around me.” Han interprets this nausea as the unbearable confrontation with bare life, stripped of narrative connections. He asserts, “Only with narration is life elevated above its sheer facticity, above its nakedness.” Yet does this not already betray a refusal to confront the deeper question: why must facticity be narrated away at all?

Roquentin’s nausea reveals the contingency of existence, a contingency that narration seeks to obscure. Han romanticizes narration as a “bringing together” that “overcomes sheer facticity,” but in doing so, he avoids asking why this overcoming is necessary. Explanation, unlike narration, does not seek to obscure the contingency of existence but to engage with it directly. Han’s refusal to embrace explanation as a response to facticity reveals his preference for the comforting illusions of narrative coherence.

The Choice: Live or Tell

Han cites Roquentin’s observation: “A man is always a teller of tales… but you have to choose: live or tell.” For Han, modernity’s crisis lies in the splitting of life and narrative, the inability to narrate life meaningfully. He contrasts premodern times, where life was anchored in “narrative points of reference,” with the empty temporality of modernity: “Nothing happens when you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that’s all. There are no beginnings.” Yet this binary—live or tell—rests on the false assumption that narration is the only way to impose meaning on life.

Explanation offers a third option, neither mere living nor narrating. Explanation does not demand that life conform to a coherent narrative arc; it confronts life’s contingencies and examines their causes. Han’s insistence on narration as the antidote to facticity ignores the potential of explanation to address the very conditions that render life meaningless. The choice is not “live or tell” but whether to critically explain life’s fragmentation or nostalgically narrate it away.

Narration as a Veil

Han lauds narration for its capacity to weave a “veil” around the nakedness of existence: “Eloquent, narrating is only the cover, the veil that weaves itself around the things.” For Han, narration is essential because it covers and veils, transforming the obscene nakedness of life into a meaningful order. Yet does this not reveal the ideological function of narration? The veil does not merely conceal bare life; it constructs a comforting fiction that forecloses the need for explanation.

Han critiques the “pornographic” nature of information, which “gets right down to it,” bypassing the veiling power of narration. Yet explanation, like information, disrupts the narrative veil—not by indulging in obscenity but by exposing the structures that underpin it. Han’s defense of narration as a veiling mechanism reveals his unwillingness to confront the truths that explanation might uncover. The veil is not a remedy for bare life; it is a refusal to engage with it.

Digital Modernity and the Crisis of Narrative

Han sees digital platforms as the apex of life’s nakedness, where narration collapses into fragmented, meaningless posts. He writes, “Today’s crisis is expressed not in the choice ‘live or tell’ but in the choice ‘live or post.’” For Han, the compulsive posting of selfies reflects an “inner emptiness” that narration once filled. He critiques digital temporality for its focus on “momentary actualities,” which cannot be woven into a coherent narrative.

Yet Han’s critique assumes that narration is the only way to address life’s fragmentation. Explanation offers an alternative: it does not seek to impose narrative coherence on digital fragments but to examine how and why these fragments are produced. By dismissing explanation, Han avoids engaging with the structural forces—capitalism, technology, surveillance—that shape the digital world he critiques. His nostalgia for narrative coherence blinds him to the possibility of using explanation as a tool for critique.

The Obscenity of Transparency

Han describes digital modernity as a “transparency society,” where life is reduced to information devoid of narrative depth. He writes, “Information as such is pornographic, because it has no cover.” For Han, the absence of veiling in digital transparency destroys the possibility of narrative meaning. Yet this critique rests on a romanticized vision of narrative as inherently meaningful, ignoring its role in perpetuating ideology.

Explanation does not fetishize transparency, but neither does it rely on the veils of narration. Instead, it interrogates both the nakedness of information and the veils that obscure it. Han’s critique of transparency society is ultimately limited by his insistence on narration as the only alternative. Explanation offers a path that neither romanticizes the veil nor fetishizes nakedness but critically engages with both.

Narration and the Optimization of Life

Han contrasts narration with the “optimization” of life in late modernity: “Optimization is concerned only with functioning and efficiency. A narrative, by contrast, cannot be optimized, because it has intrinsic value.” Yet this opposition ignores the ways in which narration itself can be co-opted for optimization. The narratives we construct about health, success, and self-improvement are deeply embedded in the logic of optimization that Han critiques.

Explanation, unlike narration, resists this co-optation. It does not seek to optimize life or impose intrinsic value but to uncover the systems and ideologies that demand optimization. Han’s defense of narrative as intrinsically valuable ignores the ways in which narratives themselves are shaped by the very forces he critiques. Explanation does not romanticize narrative coherence; it interrogates its production and use.

Conclusion: The Refusal of Explanation

In Bare Life, Han elevates narration as the only remedy for the nakedness of existence, contrasting it with the obscene transparency of modernity. Yet his critique relies on the disavowal of explanation, which he rejects as incompatible with narrative imagination. This disavowal reveals the ideological function of narration in Han’s argument: it is not a path to meaning but a veil that obscures the structures of domination underlying modern life.

To move beyond Han’s romanticization of narration, we must embrace explanation as a mode of critique. Explanation does not seek to narrate life’s nakedness away; it confronts it directly, exposing the systems that produce it. By refusing explanation, Han traps himself in a narrative that cannot account for its own construction, leaving us with a critique that veils more than it reveals.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s The Disenchantment of the World: Narration as the Fetishized Veil of Meaning

Byung-Chul Han’s chapter The Disenchantment of the World laments the collapse of storytelling in a world dominated by information and transparency. For Han, narration is the antidote to the mute facticity of existence, a means of re-enchanting a world stripped of its aura. Yet Han’s argument relies on a profound disavowal of explanation (Erklärung), which he positions as the antagonist of narration. By clinging to narration as the only means of meaning-making, Han fetishizes storytelling as a veiling mechanism, ignoring how this veil obscures the ideological structures underpinning both narration and disenchantment.

The Veil of Narration

Han opens with the tale of Konrad, a boy who cannot narrate and whose world “disintegrates into facts.” Konrad’s life is factual, additive, and meaningless until his journey into Ms. Leishure’s enchanted house transforms him into a storyteller. For Han, Konrad’s “narrative turn” represents salvation, allowing him to escape the contingency of facts. Yet this framing reveals a fundamental refusal to question the ideological function of narration itself. Why must facts be narrated away? Han’s insistence that “facticity and narration are mutually exclusive” reduces narration to a defense mechanism against the world’s contingency.

Han equates narration with enchantment, claiming, “The aura is the radiance that raises the world above its mere facticity.” Yet does this not reveal the ideological purpose of narration as a veil that mystifies existence? Explanation, by contrast, does not veil facticity; it confronts it directly, seeking to uncover the structures that render the world disenchanted. Han’s nostalgia for storytelling as a form of re-enchantment blinds him to its complicity in sustaining the very disenchantment he critiques.

The Crisis of Causality

Han identifies the disenchantment of the world with the “hegemony of causality,” arguing that “a magical world is one in which things enter into relations that are not ruled by causal connections.” This critique hinges on the romanticization of “magical and poetic relationships,” which Han claims narratively weave the world into a meaningful whole. Yet his rejection of causality as a framework ignores its potential as a mode of explanation that does not reduce but illuminates the world’s complexity.

Han writes, “The world that can be explained cannot be narrated.” But this binary conceals the fact that narration itself is a form of explanation—one that selectively veils causality to create the illusion of coherence. Explanation does not destroy meaning; it exposes how meaning is constructed. Han’s critique of causality thus reflects his deeper disavowal of explanation as a critical tool, one that threatens to disrupt the comforting illusions of narrative coherence.

Transparency as the New Disenchantment

Han critiques the “digital disenchantment of the world,” arguing that transparency reduces existence to data and information. He writes, “Transparency disenchants the world by dissolving it into data and information.” For Han, the aura of narration depends on secrecy, gaps, and thresholds—all of which transparency destroys. Yet does this critique not rely on a fetishized ideal of narrative as inherently meaningful?

Han’s framing of transparency as the endpoint of disenchantment ignores its dialectical potential. Transparency does not merely flatten the world into information; it reveals the underlying systems of control and commodification that narration veils. Han’s defense of the “narrative core” of the aura reflects his preference for mystification over critique. Explanation does not romanticize transparency but interrogates how it functions within the broader systems of power and ideology.

The Myth of Narrative Closure

Han positions narration as the antidote to the fragmentation of information, emphasizing its “concluding form.” He writes, “There is an essential distinction between stories, which have as their goal an end, and information, which is always partial, incomplete, fragmentary.” For Han, narration’s closure is a source of meaning, while information’s openness perpetuates contingency. Yet this dichotomy ignores how narrative closure itself serves to obscure contingency, imposing artificial coherence on the world.

Explanation does not seek the closure that Han idealizes; it embraces openness as a condition of critique. By refusing to accept narrative closure as a given, explanation resists the ideological function of storytelling as a mechanism for resolving contradictions. Han’s insistence on the necessity of narrative closure reflects his broader refusal to confront the contingency that explanation seeks to illuminate.

Re-Enchantment and the Disavowal of Explanation

Han’s chapter culminates in a vision of narration as the last bastion of re-enchantment in a disenchanted world. He writes, “Every narrative needs secrets and enchantment. Only our dreams of blindness would save us from the hell of transparency, would return to us the capacity to narrate.” Yet this romanticized vision of narration as a site of resistance ignores its role in perpetuating the very disenchantment it claims to oppose. Narration does not restore the world’s aura; it constructs a veil that conceals the systems of power and control underpinning disenchantment.

Explanation, by contrast, does not seek to re-enchant the world but to interrogate the conditions of its disenchantment. It does not dream of blindness; it demands clarity. Han’s fetishization of narration as a source of enchantment reflects his deeper disavowal of explanation as a mode of critique that disrupts the comforting illusions of narrative coherence.

Conclusion: Narration as Ideological Veil

In The Disenchantment of the World, Han positions narration as the antidote to the mute facticity of existence, contrasting it with the transparency and fragmentation of modernity. Yet his defense of narration relies on a fundamental disavowal of explanation, which he rejects as incompatible with the narrative imagination. This disavowal reveals the ideological function of narration as a veiling mechanism that obscures the structures of power and contingency underlying disenchantment.

To move beyond Han’s nostalgic defense of narration, we must embrace explanation as a mode of critique that confronts the world’s contingency without veiling it. Explanation does not seek to re-enchant the world; it seeks to uncover the systems that produce disenchantment. By refusing explanation, Han traps himself in a narrative that cannot account for its own construction, leaving us with a critique that mystifies more than it reveals.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s From Shocks to Likes: The Screen of Narration and the Disavowal of Explanation

Byung-Chul Han’s chapter From Shocks to Likes examines the transformation of perception in late modernity, arguing that digital screens have replaced the shock experiences of modernity with the placid gratification of likes. For Han, the digital age has severed us from the gaze of reality, leaving us trapped in a narcissistic, mirror-like world devoid of enchantment and depth. Yet Han’s critique once again relies on his fetishization of Erzählung (narration) and his disavowal of Erklärung (explanation), which he consistently rejects as a means of engaging with the structures of perception and subjectivity that he critiques.

The Loss of the Gaze: A Narrative Lament

Han invokes Walter Benjamin’s discussion of Baudelaire, who mourned the “disintegration of the aura in immediate shock experience.” For Baudelaire, modernity’s shocks fractured the contemplative gaze, replacing the lingering absorption of painting with the jarring flashes of cinema. Han extends this analysis to the digital age, arguing, “On a smartphone screen, reality is so attenuated that it can no longer create any shock experiences. Shocks give way to likes.”

This framing positions the loss of the gaze as a narrative crisis: the gaze, with its depth and otherness, sustains the tension necessary for narration. “Reality as something facing us disappears entirely behind the touchscreen,” Han claims. Yet this narrative lament conceals an implicit refusal to explain the forces that shape digital perception. Why does the screen attenuate reality? What systemic conditions underpin the transformation of shocks into likes? These questions demand explanation, not narration. By focusing on the aesthetic consequences of this shift, Han veils the economic and technological structures driving it.

The Screen as Shield

Han draws on Benjamin’s insight that consciousness acts as a “protective shield” against the shocks of modernity. In the digital age, Han argues, this protective function has hardened into a screen that filters reality into consumable images: “A screen bans reality, which becomes an image, thus screening us off from it.” For Han, this process culminates in the loss of the gaze, which he equates with the disappearance of the other: “The smartphone is a digital mirror that brings about a post-infantile return of the mirror stage.”

Yet Han’s critique remains confined to the phenomenological surface, ignoring the material conditions that produce the screen as a protective barrier. Explanation would demand that we interrogate the economic and technological forces that transform screens into instruments of narcissistic consumption. Han’s narrative framing, by contrast, reduces the screen to an emblem of disenchantment, avoiding the systemic analysis that explanation provides.

From Baudelaire to Koons: The Decline of Shock

Han contrasts Baudelaire, the “traumatophile” artist who parried shocks with poetic creation, with Jeff Koons, whose art embodies the smooth consumerism of the digital age. For Han, Koons exemplifies the transformation “from shocks to likes”: “All Koons wants from his audience is a simple ‘Wow!’ His art is intentionally relaxed and disarming. What he wants above all is to be liked.” This shift, Han argues, reflects the dulled psychic apparatus of late modernity, which has adapted to sensory overload and replaced shock with passive consumption.

Yet this critique raises an unresolved question: what makes the “Wow!” of Koons so different from the shocks of Baudelaire? Both responses involve an immediate, visceral reaction. The difference lies not in the nature of perception but in the conditions of production and reception. Explanation, not narration, is required to expose how late capitalism commodifies perception and transforms art into a vehicle for branding and social validation. Han’s nostalgic valorization of shock obscures the need to critique the economic systems that drive this transformation.

Likes as the End of Narrative

Han concludes that digital screens, by replacing shocks with likes, dismantle the narrative structure of perception. “Likes are cumulative rather than narrative,” he writes. “The strings of information do not condense into a narrative.” For Han, the like embodies the flatness of digital temporality, where images and events are consumed without reflection or connection. This flatness, he argues, undermines the depth and tension necessary for narration.

Yet Han’s critique conflates narration with meaning, ignoring the possibility that explanation might provide an alternative mode of engagement with the digital. Explanation does not seek to narrate away the flatness of likes; it interrogates how and why this flatness emerges. By dismissing explanation, Han forecloses the possibility of critically engaging with the digital world on its own terms. His defense of narration as the sole arbiter of meaning reflects a deeper refusal to confront the systemic forces that produce the crisis he describes.

The Fetishization of Narration

Han’s nostalgia for the gaze and the shock experience reveals his fetishization of narration as a means of restoring depth and enchantment to the world. “Every narrative needs secrets and enchantment,” he writes. “Transparency destroys this dialectical tension.” Yet this romanticization of narration obscures its complicity in sustaining the very structures of disenchantment that Han critiques. Narration, like the screen, can function as a protective shield, veiling the systemic forces that explanation seeks to uncover.

By rejecting explanation, Han reduces his critique to a lament for a lost narrative ideal. He writes, “The smartphone is a most efficient tool for screening us off from reality.” But is this not precisely the point? The smartphone’s function as a screen is not an aesthetic failure but a systemic feature of digital capitalism, designed to mediate and commodify perception. Explanation, not narration, is required to expose this function and imagine alternatives.

Conclusion: From Shocks to Critique

In From Shocks to Likes, Han laments the transition from the shocks of modernity to the placid likes of the digital age, framing it as a crisis of narration. Yet his critique relies on the fetishization of narration as a veiling mechanism that obscures the structural conditions of disenchantment. By disavowing explanation, Han avoids confronting the systemic forces that drive the transformation of perception in late modernity.

To move beyond Han’s nostalgic defense of narration, we must embrace explanation as a mode of critique that does not seek to restore the lost aura of the gaze but to expose the material and ideological systems that produce its disappearance. Explanation does not lament the loss of shock; it interrogates the conditions that render shock impossible. By refusing explanation, Han remains trapped in a narrative that veils more than it reveals, leaving us with a critique that flatters the very systems it claims to oppose.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s Theory as Narrative: The Veiling of Explanation in the Fetish of Narration

Byung-Chul Han’s chapter Theory as Narrative romanticizes theory as a narrative act, claiming that the conceptual frameworks of philosophy and psychoanalysis derive their power from their storytelling nature. For Han, narration is the highest form of knowledge, offering closure, meaning, and a “reordering of things.” Yet this defense of narration relies on a disavowal of explanation (Erklärung), which Han dismisses as sterile and incapable of producing meaning. By conflating theory with narration, Han veils the critical function of explanation and reduces philosophy to a sentimentalized storytelling exercise.

Big Data as Anti-Narrative

Han begins with Chris Anderson’s claim that the era of big data renders theory obsolete: “With enough data, the numbers speak for themselves.” Han critiques this data-driven approach as “the degree zero of spirit,” arguing that correlations produced by big data lack the explanatory depth of theory. “Big data does not explain anything,” Han asserts. “It merely discloses correlations.”

Yet Han’s critique sidesteps a crucial question: why has big data supplanted theory? Rather than interrogating the systemic conditions that prioritize data over concepts, Han retreats into a nostalgic defense of theory as a narrative act. Explanation demands that we examine the economic, technological, and epistemological forces driving the rise of big data. By framing theory as narration, Han avoids this critical engagement, reducing the conflict between theory and data to a lament for the loss of narrative imagination.

The Fetishization of Narrative Closure

For Han, the narrative nature of theory lies in its capacity to impose order and meaning: “Theory, as a form of closure, comprises things within a conceptual framework and thus makes them graspable.” Han contrasts this with the openness of big data, which he dismisses as incomplete and fragmentary. Yet this fetishization of narrative closure reveals Han’s deeper disavowal of explanation. Closure, as Han conceives it, is not an act of understanding but an ideological gesture that imposes coherence where none exists.

Explanation, unlike narration, does not seek closure for its own sake. It interrogates the conditions of closure, questioning the systems and structures that produce it. Han’s romanticization of narrative closure obscures its function as a mechanism of domination, one that suppresses the contingency and contradictions that explanation seeks to reveal. By conflating theory with narration, Han elevates closure to a philosophical virtue, ignoring its role in perpetuating ideological mystifications.

Freud and the Heroic Narrator

Han celebrates Freud’s psychoanalysis as a narrative act, claiming that “the cure is said to be successful when the patient accepts the narrative that he offers them.” For Han, Freud exemplifies the power of theory as storytelling, constructing narratives that “allow us to understand a particular kind of behaviour or a particular symptom.” Yet Han’s emphasis on Freud’s narrative mastery ignores the critical dimension of psychoanalysis as a form of explanation.

Freud’s narratives are not ends in themselves; they are tools for exposing the unconscious structures that shape psychic life. Han reduces Freud’s interpretive work to a heroic act of storytelling, writing, “Freud becomes the hero of his own narrative.” This framing romanticizes Freud’s role as a narrator while erasing the explanatory labor of psychoanalysis. Explanation, unlike narration, does not rely on the acceptance of a coherent story; it challenges and disrupts, refusing the comforting closure that Han idealizes.

Philosophy as Mythos

Han argues that philosophy is inherently narrative, citing Plato’s use of myth in dialogues such as Phaedo. “Philosophy, in the form of ‘poetry’ (mythos), takes a risk, a noble risk,” Han writes, claiming that philosophy narrates “a new form of life and being.” Yet this elevation of philosophy as a narrative act obscures its critical function. Narration, as Han describes it, is an aesthetic gesture that re-enchants the world; explanation, by contrast, interrogates the systems of power and meaning that philosophy’s narratives often conceal.

Han invokes Nietzsche as an example of philosophy’s narrative potential, describing The Gay Science as “a narrative about the future that is based on a ‘hope’.” Yet Nietzsche’s project is not a celebration of narration; it is a critique of the narratives that sustain ideology. Nietzsche’s “revaluation of all values” does not merely tell a new story; it exposes the contingency and constructedness of the values that narration seeks to naturalize. Han’s framing of philosophy as mythos transforms it into a sentimental exercise, ignoring its potential as a tool for critical explanation.

The Crisis of Theory

Han concludes by lamenting the decline of theory in the digital age, arguing that “academic philosophy that limits itself to the administration of its own history is unable to narrate.” For Han, this reflects a broader “crisis of narration,” as the informatization of the world erodes our capacity to construct theoretical narratives. Yet this critique rests on a false opposition between narration and explanation. The crisis of theory is not a crisis of narration; it is a crisis of explanation, a refusal to engage with the systemic forces that have commodified knowledge and rendered critical thought subservient to data.

By framing theory as narration, Han avoids confronting this crisis directly. He writes, “In the final analysis, thinking is also a narrating that progresses in narrative steps.” Yet this reduction of thinking to narrating denies the transformative potential of explanation, which does not seek to narrate but to critique. Explanation demands that we move beyond the aesthetic comforts of narration and engage with the structural conditions that shape our world.

Conclusion: The Disavowal of Explanation

In Theory as Narrative, Han defends theory as a narrative act, contrasting it with the fragmentary openness of big data. Yet his conflation of theory with narration reveals a deeper disavowal of explanation, which he dismisses as incapable of producing meaning. By romanticizing narration as the essence of theory, Han veils the critical function of explanation and reduces philosophy to a sentimentalized storytelling exercise.

To move beyond Han’s fetishization of narration, we must embrace explanation as a mode of critique that interrogates the structures of meaning and power that narration seeks to obscure. Explanation does not romanticize theory as a narrative act; it exposes the systems that sustain the very crisis Han describes. By refusing explanation, Han’s critique remains trapped in a narrative that veils more than it reveals, leaving us with a theory that flatters its own storytelling without addressing its complicity in the world it seeks to critique.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s Narration as Healing: The Ideological Balm of Narration and the Disavowal of Explanation

Byung-Chul Han’s Narration as Healing glorifies storytelling as a therapeutic force, capable of soothing, connecting, and ultimately healing the wounds of modern life. Narration, for Han, becomes a panacea for alienation and disconnection, an antidote to what he perceives as the isolating, commodifying effects of digital modernity. Yet Han’s valorization of narration as a healing act exposes a deeper ideological move: the fetishization of Erzählung (narration) as a substitute for Erklärung (explanation). By framing healing as the liberation of blocked narratives, Han masks the structural conditions that produce those blockages, offering the comforting illusion of connection while disavowing the critical work of explanation.

Narration as the Veil of Facticity

Han begins with Walter Benjamin’s image of a mother telling stories to a sick child: “The loving voice of the mother soothes the child, strokes the child’s soul, strengthens their bond.” For Han, this primordial scene exemplifies the therapeutic power of narration to transform crisis into comfort. Stories, Han claims, “raise [sorrows] above mere facticity,” integrating suffering into a meaningful context.

Yet this romanticized image of narration reveals its ideological function: narration does not merely soothe; it veils. To “raise sorrows above mere facticity” is to obscure the material conditions that produce those sorrows in the first place. Explanation, unlike narration, does not seek to transcend facticity but to confront it directly. Han’s elevation of narration as a means of healing reduces suffering to a narrative problem, foreclosing the possibility of a structural critique that might address its causes.

The Ideological Function of Narrative Flow

Han invokes Benjamin’s metaphor of pain as a dam that is overcome by the “river of narrative,” claiming that storytelling allows sorrows to “liquefy in the narrative flow.” For Han, narration transforms suffering into a story, allowing it to flow toward an “ocean of blissful oblivion.” Yet this metaphor exposes the ideological role of narration as a mechanism of pacification. Rather than challenging the structures that produce suffering, Han’s narrative flow washes them away in a tide of therapeutic forgetting.

Explanation disrupts this narrative flow, refusing the comfort of oblivion. It does not seek to dissolve suffering into a harmonious story but to interrogate the structures and systems that sustain it. Han’s insistence on narration as healing reflects his deeper aversion to explanation’s critical potential, which threatens to disrupt the soothing rhythm of the narrative stream.

Listening as Healing and the Fetish of Connection

Han celebrates listening as the ideal narrative act, invoking Michael Ende’s Momo: “Listening inspires the other to narrate and opens up a resonating space in which the narrator feels addressed, heard, even loved.” For Han, listening creates a space of connection and healing, allowing individuals to “narrate themselves free.” Yet this emphasis on listening obscures its limits. Listening, as Han frames it, does not confront the social and material conditions that block narratives; it merely provides a stage for their expression.

Han’s romanticization of listening as a healing act reflects his broader fetishization of connection. He critiques digital modernity for its “poverty in touch,” lamenting that “being connected is not the same thing as being united.” Yet he fails to interrogate the structural forces that transform connection into alienation. Explanation, unlike narration, does not idealize connection; it examines the systems of power and commodification that reduce connection to a consumerist gesture. Han’s framing of listening as healing veils these systemic dynamics, offering the illusion of intimacy without addressing its conditions.

The Crisis of Narration and the Failure of Explanation

Han contrasts the therapeutic power of storytelling with the commodified “stories” of social media, which he dismisses as “information adorned with images.” For Han, social media stories “do not narrate; they advertise,” contributing to the “crisis of narration” that he sees as endemic to digital modernity. Yet Han’s critique of storyselling ignores its underlying economic and technological conditions. Why has narration been reduced to advertisement? What systems drive the commodification of storytelling? These questions demand explanation, not narration.

By framing the crisis of narration as a loss of narrative intimacy, Han avoids confronting its structural roots. The commodification of storytelling is not merely a cultural loss; it is a symptom of the broader dynamics of capitalism and digital media. Explanation does not seek to restore narrative intimacy; it interrogates the systems that erode it. Han’s refusal to engage in explanation reduces his critique to a lament for a lost narrative ideal, offering no tools for addressing the crisis he describes.

Narration as the Ideological Balm

Han repeatedly invokes narration as a therapeutic force that transforms suffering into meaning: “Crisis narratives help us to come to terms with catastrophic events by embedding them in meaningful contexts.” Yet this framing reduces narration to an ideological balm, smoothing over the ruptures and contradictions of modern life. Conspiracy theories, which Han describes as “stories mostly told in times of crisis,” exemplify the limits of narration as explanation. While conspiracy theories provide the illusion of understanding, they obscure the systemic forces that produce crisis, substituting simplistic narratives for critical inquiry.

Han’s own use of narration risks reproducing this dynamic. By framing suffering as a narrative blockage to be overcome, he obscures the material and structural conditions that create it. Explanation, unlike narration, does not offer consolation; it demands confrontation. Han’s fetishization of narration as healing reflects his deeper disavowal of explanation’s critical potential.

Conclusion: From Healing to Critique

In Narration as Healing, Han elevates storytelling as a therapeutic act, capable of transforming suffering into meaning and connection. Yet his romanticization of narration reveals its ideological function as a mechanism of pacification. Narration does not address the structural conditions of suffering; it veils them, offering the comforting illusion of closure while avoiding the critical work of explanation.

To move beyond Han’s nostalgic defense of narration, we must embrace explanation as a mode of critique. Explanation does not seek to narrate suffering away; it interrogates the systems and structures that produce it. By refusing explanation, Han’s critique remains trapped in a narrative that soothes more than it reveals, leaving us with a vision of healing that flatters the very systems it claims to oppose.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s Narrative Community: The Myth of Narration as a Solution to Fragmentation

Byung-Chul Han’s chapter Narrative Community laments the erosion of communal bonds in late modernity, attributing this loss to the decline of shared narratives. For Han, narration is not only the foundation of community but also the antidote to neoliberal individualism and the commodification of social relations. Yet Han’s defense of Erzählung (narration) as a unifying force reveals his disavowal of Erklärung (explanation). By romanticizing storytelling as the solution to fragmentation, Han avoids engaging with the material and ideological conditions that produce the very crisis he seeks to address.

Narration as the Fetishized Core of Community

Han begins with Péter Nádas’s depiction of a village united by storytelling: “The village is a narrative community. The stories, with the values and norms they carry, unite the people.” For Han, narration fosters a “silent unity” that transcends the noise of modern communication. In contrast, he critiques today’s “information society,” where incessant posting and sharing undermine the ritual contemplation of shared narratives: “Community without communication gives way to communication without community.”

But this framing ignores the systemic forces driving the shift from narration to communication. The commodification of social interaction in digital capitalism is not merely a cultural loss but a structural transformation. Explanation, unlike narration, interrogates the mechanisms that fragment community—capitalism, individualism, and technology. By romanticizing the narrative village as a lost ideal, Han retreats into nostalgia, offering no critique of the forces that dismantle such communal bonds.

The Limits of Narrative as Political Foundation

Han argues that “political action in the genuine sense presupposes a narrative,” citing Hannah Arendt’s assertion that shared action requires narrative coherence. Without a shared story, Han claims, “the political, which makes shared action possible, cannot properly form.” Yet this idealization of narrative coherence obscures the role of explanation in uncovering the contradictions within political narratives.

Narratives, as Han acknowledges, can be exclusionary: “Conservative and nationalist narratives that are directed against liberal permissiveness are exclusionary and discriminatory.” However, Han’s proposed solution—universalist narratives like Kant’s Perpetual Peace—relies on the same logic of storytelling he critiques. Universalist narratives, no less than nationalist ones, impose coherence at the expense of confronting systemic contradictions. Explanation disrupts such imposed coherence, exposing the ways narratives obscure power structures and perpetuate domination. Han’s insistence on narrative unity as a prerequisite for politics reduces political action to a storytelling exercise, avoiding the critical work of explanation.

Neoliberalism and the Commodification of Narratives

Han critiques the neoliberal regime for undermining shared narratives, arguing that “the neoliberal narrative of performance turns every individual into an entrepreneur of his own self.” This narrative, Han claims, destroys solidarity and empathy by promoting self-optimization and competition. Yet Han’s analysis remains at the level of narrative content, ignoring the structural dynamics that produce and sustain these narratives.

Neoliberalism’s fragmentation of community is not merely a narrative phenomenon; it is a material process rooted in the commodification of labor, social relations, and culture. Explanation, unlike narration, exposes the economic and political structures that underpin neoliberal individualism. By framing neoliberalism as a narrative crisis, Han displaces critique from the structural to the symbolic, reducing the problem to a matter of storytelling rather than systemic transformation.

Storyselling: The Depoliticization of Narratives

Han critiques the commodification of storytelling, arguing that “storytelling as storyselling creates not a narrative community but a consumer society.” Narratives are produced and consumed as commodities, serving commercial rather than political purposes. Han writes, “Consumers do not form a community, a we. The commercialization of narratives robs them of their political force.”

Yet Han’s critique fails to explain why narratives are commodified in the first place. The transformation of storytelling into storyselling is not an accident; it is a symptom of capitalism’s logic, which subsumes all forms of cultural production under the imperative of profit. Explanation, unlike narration, confronts the conditions that render storytelling a commodity. Han’s lament for the depoliticization of narratives offers no tools for resisting this commodification, relying instead on a nostalgic ideal of storytelling as inherently communal.

The Illusion of Universalist Narratives

Han contrasts exclusionary nationalist narratives with inclusive universalist ones, citing Novalis’s vision of a “world family” and Kant’s cosmopolitanism as examples of narratives that unite rather than divide. For Han, such universalist narratives exemplify the potential of storytelling to transcend identity and foster global community.

Yet this framing ignores the ideological function of universalist narratives, which often serve to mask power imbalances and perpetuate domination under the guise of inclusion. Kant’s cosmopolitanism, with its emphasis on “universal hospitality,” presupposes the very structures of global inequality it claims to overcome. Explanation, unlike narration, interrogates the material and ideological conditions that sustain these inequalities, exposing the limits of universalist narratives. Han’s idealization of such narratives reflects his refusal to engage with their complicity in the systems of power he critiques.

Narrative as Ideological Veil

Han’s celebration of narration as a unifying force reveals its ideological function: narration veils the contradictions and contingencies of social life, offering the illusion of coherence and meaning. Han writes, “Shared action, the we, is based on narrative.” But this insistence on narrative unity obscures the ways in which such unity is constructed and maintained. Explanation disrupts this unity, exposing the power relations and exclusions that narratives often conceal.

By fetishizing narration as the foundation of community, Han avoids confronting the systemic forces that produce fragmentation. Narratives do not inherently create solidarity; they often serve to naturalize existing hierarchies and suppress dissent. Explanation, unlike narration, resists this naturalization, refusing the comforting illusions of coherence and unity.

Conclusion: The Failure of Narrative Nostalgia

In Narrative Community, Han laments the decline of storytelling as a unifying force, attributing the fragmentation of late modern societies to the erosion of shared narratives. Yet his romanticization of narration reflects a deeper disavowal of explanation, which he rejects as incapable of fostering community. By framing the crisis of community as a narrative problem, Han avoids engaging with the material and ideological conditions that produce it.

To move beyond Han’s nostalgic defense of narration, we must embrace explanation as a mode of critique that exposes the systems of power and commodification that fragment community. Explanation does not offer the comforting coherence of narration; it interrogates the contradictions that narratives obscure. By refusing explanation, Han’s critique remains trapped in a narrative that veils more than it reveals, leaving us with a vision of community that flatters the very systems it seeks to resist.

Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han’s Storyselling: The Fetishization of Narration and the Commodification of Storytelling

Byung-Chul Han’s Storyselling critiques the transformation of storytelling into a commercial tool, lamenting the reduction of narratives to commodities designed to sell emotions rather than foster genuine meaning. For Han, this instrumentalization of storytelling is symptomatic of a broader “crisis of narration,” where narratives lose their formative, world-structuring power and become ephemeral, consumable fragments. Yet Han’s critique reveals more about his fetishization of Erzählung (narration) as an ontological ideal than it does about the mechanisms that drive the commodification of storytelling. In his attempt to defend narration against its commodified counterpart, Han disavows Erklärung (explanation), the very tool needed to expose the systemic forces underlying the crisis he describes.

The False Opposition Between Narration and Commodification

Han sets up a dichotomy between genuine narration and commodified storytelling, arguing that “narratives introduce joints into being,” offering orientation and support, while “storytelling as storyselling” reduces narratives to ephemeral, consumable products. For Han, genuine narration fosters identity and community, whereas storytelling in its commodified form blinds us to “other stories, other forms of life, to other perceptions and realities.”

This dichotomy, however, obscures the structural conditions that enable the commodification of storytelling. Narratives have always been embedded in systems of power, functioning as tools of ideological control and cultural reproduction. The commodification of storytelling is not an aberration but an extension of these dynamics under capitalism. Explanation, unlike narration, interrogates the economic and technological structures that transform stories into commodities. Han’s defense of narration as an authentic, almost sacred practice ignores its complicity in these systems, reducing the crisis of storytelling to a moral failing rather than a structural phenomenon.

Emotion as the New Currency

Han argues that storytelling’s power lies in its ability to “trigger emotions” and bypass rational reflection: “Emotions sell,” he writes, because they “influence our behaviour” at a “pre-reflexive level.” Capitalism, Han claims, exploits this emotional power to manipulate individuals, rendering them passive consumers.

Yet Han’s critique of emotional manipulation remains superficial, failing to explain why capitalism prioritizes emotions over intellect. The turn to emotional storytelling is not merely a marketing strategy; it reflects deeper shifts in the production and consumption of meaning under late capitalism. Explanation reveals how the commodification of emotion functions to maintain capitalist hegemony, transforming cultural production into a mechanism of social control. Han’s romanticization of narration as a counterforce to this commodification overlooks the ways in which even “genuine” narratives can serve to naturalize and reinforce existing power structures.

The Illusion of Hopeful Narratives

Han laments the lack of “hopeful narratives of the future,” claiming that storytelling as storyselling “does not convey a political vision that reaches into the future and provides meaning and orientation.” For Han, genuine political narratives “paint pictures of possible worlds,” offering a perspective on a new order of things. Yet this nostalgia for visionary storytelling obscures the ideological function of such narratives, which often serve to mask contradictions and maintain the status quo.

Explanation, unlike narration, exposes the limits of these narratives, revealing the material conditions that constrain our ability to imagine alternative futures. The problem is not the absence of hopeful narratives but the structural barriers that render such narratives impotent. Han’s call for visionary storytelling avoids this critique, relying on a narrative ideal that cannot address the systemic forces that foreclose meaningful change.

Storytelling and the Crisis of Community

Han argues that storytelling has become a tool for consumption rather than community, writing, “Storytelling turns every story into a commodity.” He critiques the neoliberal emphasis on individualism, claiming that “storytelling as storyselling” prevents the formation of communal identities and reduces life to a cycle of consumption.

Yet Han’s framing of storytelling as the foundation of community reflects his deeper disavowal of explanation. Narratives do not inherently produce solidarity; they are shaped by the material and ideological conditions in which they are embedded. Explanation reveals how neoliberalism’s commodification of storytelling functions to fragment community, transforming shared narratives into isolated acts of consumption. By idealizing narration as a communal force, Han obscures its role in perpetuating the very dynamics he critiques.

The Romanticization of Narration

Han’s portrayal of storytelling as the antithesis of commodification reveals his romanticization of narration as a transformative, almost sacred act. “Living is narrating,” Han writes, suggesting that narration is integral to human existence and the creation of new forms of life. Yet this romantic ideal ignores the ways in which narration can serve to reproduce existing hierarchies and ideologies.

By framing the commodification of storytelling as a corruption of its authentic essence, Han avoids confronting the systemic forces that shape both narration and storytelling. Explanation, unlike narration, does not rely on the illusion of authenticity; it interrogates the structures that produce and sustain these practices. Han’s fetishization of narration as a pure, untainted act reflects his refusal to engage with its complicity in systems of power and commodification.

Conclusion: The Crisis of Explanation

In Storyselling, Han critiques the commodification of storytelling as a symptom of the broader “crisis of narration.” Yet his defense of Erzählung as an ontological ideal reveals his deeper disavowal of Erklärung, the critical tool needed to expose the systemic forces underlying this crisis. By romanticizing narration as a counterforce to commodification, Han obscures the ways in which narration itself is embedded in systems of power and ideology.

To move beyond Han’s nostalgic ideal of storytelling, we must embrace explanation as a mode of critique that interrogates the structural conditions that transform stories into commodities. Explanation does not lament the loss of “genuine” narratives; it exposes the systems that commodify them and seeks to dismantle those systems. By refusing explanation, Han’s critique remains trapped in a narrative that flatters its own storytelling while avoiding the critical engagement needed to address the very crisis it describes.

Prompt: You are writing a scathing Žižekian critique of Byung-Chul Han’s book The Crisis of Narration. Now you will write the chapter about Han’s chapter given below (in English translation)! Do not introduce any additional jargon or descriptions, quote Han’s actual sentences and answer them with Han’s own terms! It appears that Han hates spoilers because he loves a good story! In truth, Han defends Erzählung=narration because he disavows Erklärung, which is not narration! Explain everything clearly and avoid excessive inferences! / Now write a long introduction for this whole AI-generated book-length Žižekian critique of each chapter of Byung-Chul Han’s book The Crisis of Narration! It appears that Han hates spoilers because he loves a good story! In truth, Han defends Erzählung=narration because he disavows Erklärung, which is not narration! Explain everything clearly and avoid excessive inferences! [Işık Barış Fidaner & Fatoş İrem]

6 comments

Cybernetic Feedback / Sibernetik Geri Bildirim 👨‍💻🤖 | 🦋🤖 YERSİZ ŞEYLER says:

January 21, 2025 at 10:18 am

[…] The Crisis of Explanation and the Fetish of Narration: A Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han […]

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Byung-Chul Han’ın ‘Anlatının Krizi’ kitabına Slavoj Žižek’in Yapay Zeka Destekli Sert Cevabı! | 🦋🤖 YERSİZ ŞEYLER says:

January 21, 2025 at 12:11 pm

[…] The Crisis of Explanation and the Fetish of Narration: A Žižekian Critique of Byung-Chul Han […]

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Undecidability Decided: A Žižekian-Lacanian Immanent Critique of the Algorithmic Unconscious – Žižekian Analysis says:

October 6, 2025 at 10:40 pm

[…] • From narration to explanationThe soothing story ‘AI cannot have an unconscious, therefore relax’ is narration. Explanation would expose how this story itself covers contradictions—where responsibility is shunted, where harms sediment, where ‘mere technical opacity’ functions like a symptom. (Žižekian Analysis) […]

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Belirsizliği Karara Bağlamak: Algoritmik Bilinçdışına Žižekçi–Lacancı İçkin Bir Eleştiri | 🦋🤖 YERSİZ ŞEYLER says:

October 6, 2025 at 10:49 pm

[…] • Anlatıdan açıklamaya dön‘YZ’nin bilinçdışı olamaz, öyleyse rahat ol’ teskin edici bir anlatıdır. Açıklama ise bizzat bu anlatının nasıl çelişkileri örttüğünü—sorumluluğun nereye kaydırıldığını, hangi zararların tortulaştığını, ‘salt teknik opaklık’ın nasıl semptom gibi çalıştığını—deşifre eder. (🔗) […]

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Against the ‘Algorithmic Unconscious’: An immanent critique of its presumptions, blind spots, and missed dialectics – Žižekian Analysis says:

October 7, 2025 at 12:10 am

[…] The article borrows from laboratory studies to say that facts become black-boxes when controversy closes, suggesting that heavy investments are needed to reopen them. True—but the digital scene adds a twist: narration itself can function as fetish, an explanatory balm that covers over what refuses to be told. The push to ‘interpret’ machine behavior risks becoming a University discourse of infinite annotation while the algorithmic gaze keeps scripting behavior underneath. The question is not whether to reopen black boxes by more narration, but how to puncture the explanatory fetish and let the inconsistency of the Big Other appear. (Žižekian Analysis) […]

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‘Algoritmik Bilinçdışı’na Karşı: Varsayımlarına, kör noktalarına ve ıskalanmış diyalektiklerine içkin bir eleştiri | 🦋🤖 YERSİZ ŞEYLER says:

October 7, 2025 at 12:22 am

[…] Makale, tartışmanın kapanmasıyla olguların kara-kutu hâline geldiğini, bunları yeniden açmak için büyük yatırımlar gerektiğini laboratuvar çalışmalarından ödünç alır. Doğru—ama dijital sahne bir büküm ekler: anlatının kendisi, söylenemez olanı örtüleyen bir fetiş, yatıştırıcı bir açıklama merhemi işlevi görebilir. ‘Makine davranışı’nı “yorumlama” hamlesi, altta algoritmik bakış yazmayı sürdürürken, sonsuz bir şerh düşme Üniversite söylemine dönüşme riski taşır. Soru, kara kutuları daha çok anlatıyla açmak değil; açıklama fetişini delmek ve Büyük Öteki’nin tutarsızlığını görünür etmektir. 🔗 […]

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