Andreas Matthias frames a conversation with philosopher Paul B. Preciado not merely as a celebrity interview, but as a radical manifesto on the limits of identity itself. In a world increasingly obsessed with rigid categorization, the piece argues that the ultimate political act is to dissolve the very concept of a fixed self. This is not a standard profile of a transgender intellectual; it is a challenge to the metaphysical structures that underpin modern conflict, from gender wars to geopolitical violence.
The Medium is the Method
Matthias introduces Preciado as a figure who has moved beyond the traditional academy, noting that Preciado "resigned from his professorship in France" because he believes "the academic structure is no longer minimally entitled to distribute the necessary impetus for knowledge to truly act in the world." This rejection of institutional gatekeeping is central to the argument. Matthias explains that Preciado views philosophy not as a static text, but as a dynamic practice that demands new tools. As Matthias writes, "I no longer believe that an article or a book is inherently more philosophical; contemporary life demands that we know how to use different media and understand which medium is the best possible instrument for the theories we wish to defend."
The choice to make a film, Orlando: My Political Biography, is presented as a deliberate disruption of genre. Matthias highlights how Preciado uses the medium to deconstruct the very industry that produces it. "I do not want to be called a director, much less seen as a worker in that industry," Matthias quotes Preciado saying. "I merely made an attempt... I try to dismantle cinema from the inside." This approach mirrors the theoretical work of Judith Butler, whom Matthias notes taught Preciado the value of "the battle from within, against the coercive surveillance present even in seemingly creative and neutral tools." By showing the "behind the scenes," Preciado exposes the mechanics of performance, forcing the audience to question the authenticity of all identity categories.
I do not believe the academic structure is any longer minimally entitled to distribute the necessary impetus for knowledge to truly act in the world.
Critics might argue that rejecting established institutions entirely risks isolating radical thought from the very audiences it seeks to liberate. However, Matthias suggests that Preciado's strategy is to use the resources of the system—such as the funding from a high-profile fashion campaign—to fund a project that explicitly critiques the system's violence.
Beyond the Binary of Identity
The interview delves into the philosophical core of Preciado's work: the rejection of the "binary, patriarchal world." Matthias points out the significance of Preciado's chosen name, Paul, which references a pseudonym used by Michel Foucault. "Paul is my name precisely because it is not my name: an anti-category where one can find refuge from the paths of the binary, patriarchal world," Matthias quotes. This naming convention is not just personal; it is a political tool designed to stop the "violence of metaphysics" that forces individuals into rigid ontologies.
Matthias emphasizes that for Preciado, the goal is not to create new, fixed identities for marginalized groups, but to question the existence of identity itself. "For every minority, it is primarily important to affirm its identity... In the second place, however, and this I believe is the true objective, one must move beyond the boundaries of new identities and question the very concept that an identity truly exists," Matthias paraphrases Preciado's stance. This echoes the opening line of Virginia Woolf's Orlando, a text Matthias notes begins with the historic phrase, "He, being no longer of a fixed sex." The connection to Woolf is vital here; just as Woolf's character fluidly traverses centuries and genders, Preciado argues for a "liquid world that is not rigidly stable."
The argument here is that fluidity is a form of liberation. Matthias writes that Preciado seeks to "fluidify the forms of subjectivity, to get lost without ever finding oneself again: because it is not necessary, and it is profoundly liberating." This challenges the reader to consider whether the demand for recognition often traps people in the same boxes they are fighting against. A counterargument worth considering is that for those facing immediate, life-threatening discrimination, the immediate need for legal and social recognition of a specific identity is a matter of survival, not just philosophical play. Preciado acknowledges this tension but insists that the long-term solution lies in dismantling the categories themselves.
The Poetic Gaze in a Time of War
Perhaps the most striking moment in Matthias's coverage is the pivot to the ongoing conflict in Palestine and Israel. When asked how one can focus on gender rights during such a massacre, Preciado responds by linking the two through the lens of identity politics. Matthias reports that Preciado sees the conflict as an "identity problem," stating, "we are killing each other over issues related to identity and territorial possessions, and if we fail to stop this time, I believe everything will be more complex than the 'simple' Israeli-Palestinian conflict."
Matthias does not shy away from the gravity of this connection. The commentary underscores that Preciado views the violence of categorization as the root of geopolitical bloodshed. "To liberate ourselves from the violence of imposing identities we did not choose but which condition us," Matthias quotes, "this is, for me, the most relevant question of our time." The proposed solution is not a policy paper, but a shift in perception: "The most important thing for me is the poetic gaze, the one with which to reincarnate the world and observe things differently." This "poetic gaze" is framed as an alternative to the "belligerent and violent language of daily reality."
Matthias notes that Preciado envisions a future where the division between male and female is obsolete, suggesting this could lead to a world with "far fewer wars, much less pain." While this may sound idealistic to a realist, the argument gains weight when viewed through the history of how rigid national and religious identities have fueled centuries of conflict. The piece implies that the struggle for gender fluidity and the struggle against ethnic cleansing are not separate battles, but two fronts in the same war against the tyranny of fixed categories.
To liberate ourselves from the violence of imposing identities we did not choose but which condition us: the cultural backgrounds we inherit from the past that, if overcome, are defined as dysphoria or a political attack.
Bottom Line
Andreas Matthias succeeds in presenting Preciado not just as a philosopher of gender, but as a philosopher of conflict itself, arguing that the rigid categorization of bodies is the seed of global violence. The piece's greatest strength is its refusal to treat identity politics as a niche concern, instead positioning it as the foundational key to understanding and resolving geopolitical crises. Its vulnerability lies in the immense difficulty of translating a "poetic gaze" into concrete political action, a gap that Preciado acknowledges but leaves largely to the reader to bridge.