The medical model of mental illness has facilitated the move towards greater restriction by cloaking it under the mantle of treatment. This process of medicalisation of deviant behaviour conceals complex political issues about the tolerance of diversity, the control of disruptive behaviour and the management of dependency. It enables a society that professes liberal values and individualism to impose and re-inforce conformity. It disguises the economics of a system in which human labour is valued only for the profit it can generate, marginalising all those who are not fit or not willing to be so exploited.
所謂「腦內生化平衡失調，需要服藥矯正」的說法，是藥廠將人生經歷的各種情緒疾病化以圖利的宣傳，事實是大部份精神科藥物皆是「能夠穿越血腦屏障，直接作用於中樞神經系統，使大腦腦內神經傳導改變，產生興奮或抑制」的Psychoactive Agent，部份藥物更與安菲他命、可卡因、米達挫倫等「毒品」同屬「可濫用及高危」，此等藥物的聲稱療效實與安慰劑無異，其可能引起的健康風險如腦退化、遲發性神經疾病、內分秘紊亂、性功能障礙、藥物依賴等卻往往被刻意淡化。無數案例（http://ssristories.org/）亦顯明，精神科藥物與自殺、自殘、傷害他人的暴力行為相關！惟精神科執業只以「病人」或其監護人匯報的主觀描述作為醫生「診斷」與處方藥物的基礎，實際上只是在短促的會診之後，藥石亂投的Trial and Error，精神科執業並──無──任──何──可重覆的檢測方法，以判定此等危險藥物施於人體的具體作用！精神科醫生因為其專科訓練與利益誘因，亦甚少為病人進行其他檢查，先行排除其他同樣可能導致類似「精神病癥狀」的狀況，諸如環境中毒、飲食失調、其他藥物影響、內分泌或免疫系統疾病之可能。又因為其專科訓練，對求助者狀況的其他個人與社會性因素（諸如貧窮、家庭背景、欺凌、性暴力等創傷經歷）沒有充份關注，未有對症就下藥。
Toward evening I decided to write to Bouxx. This temptation to write was dangerous, and no one knew that better than me. But the hours were so long, so dead, that I couldn’t be satisfied just jotting an account: that could all be summed up in a single sentence, which was always the same and never sufficed.
“I know that you’re very busy. Nevertheless, please read these lines. I’ve led a calm and regular life in the service of the State, troubled occasionally by my poor health. Now, I witness with horror your efforts to change the course of events. It’s not that I blame you; I feel sympathy for you, and your madness soothes me. Alas, it puts you to work for everything you condemn.
“I’d like to be useful to you and demonstrate the very greatest loyalty. But you’re blind, you’re fighting into the abyss. How can I open your eyes? You’re fighting in the ranks of your enemies and I myself deceive you when I persuade you of my candor. If I tell you the truth, you will give up the struggle. If I allow you to be hopeful, you will be wrong about the struggle. Please understand: everything that you get from me is, for you, only a lie – because I’m the truth.
“I’d like to convince you of this: you’re on the wrong track when you attack the offices, the administration, all the visible apparatus of the State. They don’t count. If you do away with them, you do away with nothing. If you replace them with others, you replace them with the same. And, beyond that, their only goal is the public good: in order to act well they’ll always be in agreement with you. I assure you: there’s nothing mysterious in the offices; there are none of those little secrets that were the petty privilege of the old administrations which trouble the supplicant and make him think that behind the façade there’s something essential going on to which he’ll never have access. Anyone can always take everything into account. Administration, classification, decision making, all goes on in broad daylight, and perfect equality means that at every moment the whole State inhabits the bodies and minds of those who turn to it. The State is everywhere. Everyone feels it, sees it, everyone feels it live through him. In the offices it’s represented rather than present. It’s found there with its official features, and appearances are certainly not in short supply: historical buildings, institutions, civil servants, tables, filing cabinets, the smallest things takes on a particular dignity. Indeed it’s there that those looking for the center can flatter themselves upon having found it. But that is only the center. Having reached it, it’s grasped in no more than an indirect way, through unimportant markers like mottoes above doors, the uniform of the ushers, etc.; it evaporates for whoever’s not outside it. For those at home there, the offices vanish; they really exist only in the eyes of those attackers. Thus the empty feeling one gets there, which is not due exclusively to the somewhat sad and solemn appearance of the rooms, over which glides the hesitant gleam of the past. In every rooms, there’s a constant coming and going of the most serious working people, an extraordinary buzzing of activity, everyone’s busy, and yet the visitor is struck by something sad and useless, as if everyone were yawning in idleness and boredom.
“I’d like you to reflect on these false appearances. Everything the administration does to give the laws a tangible reality – decrees, rules, measures of all kinds – sometimes seems to be misleading manifestations of the power in which everyone participates. It’s as if thinking unjustifiably deforms spontaneous feelings. It’s well known that the law acquire their true value in this way; they are laws only thanks to this. But a disagreeable feelings of hidden activity, of intervention after the fact, remains. When the government , in order to give official approval to the definitive right, recognized by everyone, to know everything, delegates agents who keep individuals informed, or when it puts posters on walls and prints its principle decisions in newspapers, then, in the eyes of every citizen possessing tacit knowledge, fairly petty revelations – on the scale of the means available – seem rather to conceal measures of intimidation. And the law, far from being the meeting place where everyone feels called to the common spirit, is no more than the personal and foreign warning addressed to us by a civil servant who has resolved for some reason to treat us as enemies.
“This apparent deviation cannot be taken seriously. The prestige of the State, the love we have for it and above all our absolute adherence to it, maintained through reservations and rebellions, links every mind and doesn’t allow the mind to see the tiniest crack in the immense edifice from which it is inseparable. No one can distinguish the regime from its manifestations, for the law is not haphazardly revealed, and its truth lies only in the collective movement which has inscribed it deep within our souls, and which causes it to emerge in the sovereign system that represents it. In practice one can always criticize, and this often happens. Civil servants are people just like anyone else; they’re not at all superior to those they administer. If they were to claim special rights for themselves then we would no longer be in our native land, and we would have to keep struggling, as it was necessary to do for centuries, against a distant and dominating power. And it isn’t like men who are richer in humanity than the common run of mortals to carry out duties from which they derive no advantage. They are supposed to have a more active awareness of what they are; they live less and reflect more. I know very well that that’s what indicates our administrative deformation; our most inward thoughts have something about them that’s ordered, objective, as if they always had to be the subject of a report or pass unrevised into an account. Hence, no doubt, this meditative and cunning appearance which distinguishes certain important men in public and also the brutal and base manners often affected by agents of enforcement as if, among the latter, reflection, instead of manifesting itself through waiting, equivocation, and delays, demanded the haste and blind rigidity of authority. The law is sly; that is the impression it gives. It circumvents, even when it strikes. It interferes everywhere, under the pretext of never withholding itself. Never able to condemn anyone, it always seems to be concealing something under the benevolence and deceit of its plans. It is clarity itself, and it is impenetrable. It is absolute truth which expresses itself straightforwardly, and it invokes the most perfidious falsehood, one which leaves no traces, outside of , and within, our hearts. But don’t believe that it is always hatching plots. With all my strength I want to warn you against such an idea, one as naïve as it is depraved. We are the ones who sometimes feign to believe the law capable of dark plotting, in order to alleviate the feeling of vigilance with which its loyalty encircles us. We would like to free ourselves from this feeling and be able to rest. We imagine that there is a plot, because we cannot tolerate the idea of infinitely more complex relations, founded on good faith and clarity, relations which, far from being foreign to us, express that which is closest to us and most inward.
“Now, please listen. What I am going to tell you is serious. It is not only that I’m a danger to you through my mode of being, my turn of mind, and my habits. I also have to work: I play a role, I receive orders, I carry them out. How? I can’t say, because finally that isn’t true. They’re ideas that take hold of me, then leave me, restful phrases meant to keep me at a good distance from a situation at which I lack the courage to gaze straight on, a situation I lack the strength to undergo indefinitely. Still, they’re not fables – far from it. In the times that preceded our own, such a view of things would have been the truth itself; today, it still has all the precision of a metaphor. Civil servants, to the extent that they live in offices, sign decrees, work for the maintenance of the State, make decisions that seem to us brutal or unjust – are they themselves anything more than images that no one accepts as such, but which, as long bypassed relics, nevertheless give us an idea of the mores, the political fate, and the life of the world in general?
“Think about what’s so terrible. It’s that I myself, in a number of ways, am only a face. A face? Can you fathom what a dangerous , perfidious, hopeless, ways of life such a word implies? I am a mask. I act like a mask and as such I play a dishonest role in this universal fabrication which spreads, over a humanity too full of the law – like a light varnish, in order to soften the glare – a more crude and naïve humanity, one that recalls the earlier stages in an evolution which, once it has arrived its end, tries in vain to go back.”
Maurice Blanchot. The Most High. Trans. Allan Stoekl. Lincoln & London: University of Nebraska Press, 1996. p. 175-179.
作家共同面對的似乎是翻譯和作品如何被接收的問題，於是牽出種種更根本的思考。譬如說，「世界」是指哪一個世界？來了愛荷華兩個多月聽了那麼多堂課那麼多場研討會，可一直沒有聽見有人提過Third World 兩個字。「世界文學」如果是指世界各地各種語言寫成的文學，它們「被發現」的機會是極渺茫與不平等的，書店有售的「世界文學」可是極少數通過地區的主要語言（Major Language）如英語/法語/西班牙語等翻譯（或再轉譯）發行。亞非拉美多處前殖民地的作家在國家獨立半世紀甚或更長時間以後，還得用前殖民者的語言書寫、以前宗主國的圖書市場為目標市場而別無他選，「世界」到底是以誰作為本位而指定？
讓我們再換個角度，知己而後知彼，嘗試理解一下「管治者」與「支持高鐵」的一方的思維，我沒法鑽進他們的腦袋，也不知道他們吃錯甚麼藥打錯甚麼針，但是他們表現的形態就是：香港需要建一條高速鐵路與否，並不取決於它的造價與走線。特區政府與立法會功能組別（或他們代理的何方神聖）正正因為 A) 他們認為「香港需要建一條高速鐵路」，所以 B) 造價那麼貴，走線那麼大爭議依然要霸王眼硬上弓，說是值得，於是才會 C) 不單不撤回方案，更要加快財委會審議，務求一眾「舉手機器」表決通過工程撥款，做成「既定事實」。
這裡面有兩個考察，首先，「接軌大陸」、「趕上發展」的講法之所以廣為人接納，正在於它意涵空泛沒有實質所指——它無須論證，所以很有魅力。它的魅力來源於一種錯置的「現實」觀念（displaced idea of reality），現實有多窮困，就有幾多人恨「發達」，香港的社會情況有多倒退，就有幾多人覺得自己「落後」於形勢，社會的不義到底還是折算做「個人」的不幸、不濟，越覺得自己的生活倒霉的人越覺得自己本來應該有更多，要是有人拿走他現有、「應有的」一份兒就必須出來反對，包括政府開的空頭支票。因此「接軌大陸」、「趕上發展」的說法，它的魅力有一種統御性，它信仰者眾，也因為它「便攜」，在電台Phone-in 節目短短三十秒、報紙幾百字的篇幅、問卷調查的題目中間，或是在公車上同人吹水，容不下論証、甚至容不下教育，「總之發展是好的，總之中港融合是好的」。