Derek Hook Lacan The Meaning of The Phallus and The Sexed Subject
Derek Hook Lacan The Meaning of The Phallus and The Sexed Subject
Derek Hook Lacan The Meaning of The Phallus and The Sexed Subject
Book Section
Derek Hook
LSE has developed LSE Research Online so that users may access research output of
the School. Copyright © and Moral Rights for the papers on this site are retained by the
individual authors and/or other copyright owners. Users may download and/or print
one copy of any article(s) in LSE Research Online to facilitate their private study or for
non-commercial research. You may not engage in further distribution of the material or
use it for any profit-making activities or any commercial gain. You may freely distribute
the URL (http://eprints.lse.ac.uk) of the LSE Research Online website.
This document is the author’s final manuscript version of the book section,
incorporating any revisions agreed during the review process. Some differences
between this version and the publisher’s version may remain. You are advised to
consult the publisher’s version if you wish to cite from it.
http://eprints.lse.ac.uk
Contact LSE Research Online at: [email protected]
T. Shefer
Chapter 5
Lacan, the meaning of the phallus and the
‘sexed’ subject
Derek Hook
of the larger category of the Symbolic, which is the pre-existing domain of language and law,
the social and cultural structure into which the child is born. So, importantly, for Lacan,
masculinity and femininity are not biological essences but are instead symbolic positions. The
assumption of one of these two positions is an obligatory component of human subjectivity.
Each sex, furthermore, is defined separately with respect to a third term. In the words of
Fink (1995: 105): ‘Men and women are defined differently with respect to language, that is,
with respect to the Symbolic order.’
The sexual position that the child will eventually take on is not thus a predisposed
one, a simply ‘natural’ category. It is, by contrast, something that must be acquired. In the
same way we should remain wary of too easily assuming a preordained fit between the
neonate and the Symbolic world into which it is born. There is an entire ‘world of language’
which pre-exists the infant; it is into this world of symbolic exchanges and meaning that the
‘human animal’ of the infant is born. As Mitchell (1982: 5) states:
Language does not arise from within … [it] always ‘belongs’ to another person. The
human subject is created from a general law that comes to it from outside itself and
through the speech of other people, though this speech in its turn must relate to the
general law.
What should be clear here is that the Imaginary is not a stage – although Imaginary
experience does predominate at early periods of life – it is rather one of three orders of
being. The two others are the Symbolic, which we have touched on briefly already, and
explain in more detail as we continue, and the Real which designates that which cannot be
signified, that which cannot be captured or reduced to symbolic expression. These three
orders of being are ever-present and underscore all aspects of human experience.
The Imaginary is the domain of images and reflections, which the child will continually
‘take on’, identify with, as means of assuming an identity of sorts, an ego. This Imaginary is
typically understood with reference to the mirror-stage, which is more a process than a stage,
a process that enables us to build up an ego on the basis of the identification with images.
It is in this way, for Lacan, that the human infant comes to consolidate a rudimentary sense
of an ‘I’. Eagleton explains this well:
The image in the mirror both is and is not itself, a blurring of subject and object …
[which] begins the process of constructing a center of ‘self’. This ‘self’ … is essentially
narcissistic, we arrive at a sense of an ‘I’ by finding that ‘I’ reflected back to ourselves
by some object or person in the world. This object is at once somehow part of
ourselves – we identify with it – and yet not ourselves, something alien. The image
which the small child sees in the mirror is in this sense an ‘alienated’ one: the child
‘misrecognizes’ itself in it, finds in the image a pleasing unity which it does not actually
experience in its own body (1983: 164–165).
Not all the images that the child identifies with are literally mirror-images (although this
provides Lacan with a paradigmatic example of what is happening at this point.) Children are
equally able to identify with similar ‘reflections’ of themselves, the ‘images’ of other children,
the ‘images’ of how they are reflected back to themselves by others they come into contact
with. The mother is one such Imaginary counterpart; she provides a very basic means through
which the child is reflected back to itself. The Imaginary relationship with the mother will have
to be broken if the child is eventually to enter the world of the Symbolic. The ‘third term’ of
the figure of the father will be responsible for breaking this relationship.
If the dyadic structure of the Imaginary is to give way to the plurality of the Symbolic
order, the intervention of a ‘third term’ will be required. The ‘third term’ which arrives to
separate this ‘dual structure’ of mother and child, as suggested above, is the figure of the
father. One of the advantages of Lacan’s account in this respect is the fact that the figure of
the father in question is not necessarily the actual, literal father of the child. What is more
important here is what the father signifies, the first imposition of law, the law, in short against
incest, the prohibition that the mother is off bounds to the child as an object of desire.
The child is hence disturbed in its libidinal relation with the mother and must now
come ‘to recognise in the figure of the father that a wider familial and social network exists
of which it is only part’ (Eagleton 1983: 165). Importantly, not only is it the case that the
child is part of a wider familial and social network, it is also the case that the role that it must
play is already, in a sense, predetermined, laid down for it by the practices of the society in
which it has been born. The child, in other words, is being pushed out of the realm of the
Imaginary into that of the Symbolic, into a system of social structure and meanings, of laws,
language and regulations. The father is the first representative of this world. It is this world
of the Symbolic more than the figure of the father himself that ensures the breaking of the
Imaginary bond between mother and child. The castration thus involved is the castration
implied by the arrival of the Symbolic; it is the castration of the entry of a third term into the
Imaginary mother–child bond (as discussed earlier.) This is a symbolic form of castration
that, as we shall see later, is enforced and extended by the castration implied by the use of
language.
The role of the father, and the link that comes to exist between him and the phallic signifier,
represents an important nodal point in Lacanian theory, to which we will shortly turn. First
though, we need to introduce a series of basic concepts from the field of linguistics, notions
of signifier, signified and sign as they pertain to the psychoanalytic project of understanding
subject-formation. These concepts will help us understand how the child moves outside of
an exclusively Imaginary state of being into the Symbolic order; a move that is, in a way, the
resolution of the Oedipus complex itself. Lacan, indeed, is offering a structural equivalent of
the basic operations of this complex as it is achieved by the child’s insertion into language,
its ‘castration’ by the Symbolic.
Signified
Signifier
Both parts (signifier and signified) are necessary for signification to take place however; a
concept in one’s head without an attached signifier cannot be easily communicated (except,
of course, with reference to a series of other signifiers). Similarly a signifier, ‘arigato’, without
any attached signified, means nothing (arigato is a Japanese word; for Japanese speakers it is
of course a signifier with an attached signified). It was for this reason that earlier theoreticians
of language, such as Ferdinand de Saussure (1977), emphasised the interdependence of
these two component parts, which, like opposite sides of a piece of paper, seemed to be
practically inseparable from one another. (Hence the enclosing circle in the diagram.) Not
only do both signifier and signified need to occur together if signification is to be successful,
both parts need to be established in a particular bounded relation by convention.
However, importantly – and this is where things get interesting – the relation between
signifier and signified, although thoroughly conventionalised, is nonetheless arbitrary. It is
conventionalised in the sense that there is a kind of standard agreement amongst English-
language speakers that ‘bat’ when written or spoken corresponds to a certain concept or idea
– namely that of a club with a handle which one uses to strike a ball. This relationship is
also arbitrary, though, because many other names – other signifiers – can be used to evoke
this same object; we might refer to a club, a racquet, a stick, or names in any number of
different languages to refer to the same thing. Although this relationship between signifier
and signified is relatively stable, it is not absolutely fixed. In fact, to complicate things, a
given sound or mark (i.e. signifier) can have more than one meaning: the signifier ‘bat’ can
refer to an instrument for hitting a ball, or a creature with wings that hangs upside down
in caves. Although generally a stable process, the process of signification certainly permits
for the over-determination of meaning (signifiers meaning more than one thing), and for
slippage (a less than absolutely fixed relation between signifier and signifier). Just as one
signifier may evoke multiple signifieds, so many signifiers may stand for a basic signifier.
This proves particularly interesting for psychoanalysts who treat ‘mistaken’ forms of
signification, slips-of-the-tongue, along with the ambiguity of jokes and the over-determined
meaning of dreams, as a source from which they are able to read unconscious meanings. (The
wrong impression should not be given here: it is not the case that some instances of signification
are simply ‘mistaken’ and others are not. It is rather the case that forms of signification are
always ‘mistaken’ in as much as they have the potential to carry multiple meanings.)
One way of understanding the traditional psychoanalytic notion of repression – i.e. the
process whereby unacceptable ideas or impulses are rendered unconscious – is through
the idea that particular signifieds have been split of from those signifiers that would bring
them into consciousness. The dreamwork off dreams, then, is an alternative and disguised
means of arranging signifieds with an unusual set of signifiers. This is why dreams must be
interpreted, and cannot simply be read for literal meaning.
The unstable relationship between signified and signifier permits the ‘constant sliding
of the signifier over the signified’, in Lacan’s phrase. The possibility of such a slippage is for
Lacan a precondition for the functioning of the unconscious. That signifiers can signify more than
one thing or concept, that words and gestures may be over-determined, ambiguous (that
they can ‘hold’ several different significations, in other words), is a condition of possibility
for the fact that unconscious meanings and desires can and do erupt in everyday speech.
(By the same token, the fact that signifieds – such as disturbing wishes, urges – can be split
off from the signifiers that would bring them into conscious awareness is also a condition
of possibility for repression.) Lacan in fact suggests that it is the effects of the signifier on the
subject that constitute the unconscious. Lacan hence adapts Saussure’s depiction of the sign in
the following way:
Signifier
––––––
signified
Figure 5.2 The Lacanian sign
The order of priority is hence reversed: signifier comes to be emphasised as more important.
This is a move befitting the psychoanalyst’s concentration on the signifiers used by patients
that may (and do) signify more than their intended meanings. It is in this respect that Lacan
advances that the signifier in fact dominates the subject – a prioritisation on the signifier that
will become increasingly important as we continue. This amendment of Saussure’s diagram
makes sense for anyone who is focused on engaging with the unconscious, for anyone who
intends on grappling with how different and multiple signifieds emerge from the same
signifier (as in the psychoanalytic practice of free association, in which the analysand or
patient is asked to say whatever comes into their mind without any sense of inhibition).
Lacan also does away with the enclosing circle of Saussure’s diagram, suggesting thus
the absence of any fixed relationship between these two components. This difference
between Lacan and Saussure becomes marked at this point: as this diagram suggests, Lacan
understands language not as a set of signs, as does Saussure (1977), but as a set of signifiers.
For Lacan, signifieds (concepts, meanings) are the result of the play of signifiers; our
analytic focus should hence be on the latter, especially given that he maintains that the
human subject itself – as a subject of the Symbolic order – is also constituted as secondary
in relation to the signifier.
Returning now to the situation of the child in front of the mirror, just as the child in front
of the image may be seen as a kind of signifier – something capable of bestowing meaning
– so the image in the mirror (what the child sees when looking into the mirror) may be
understood as a kind of signified, a given meaning. Initially we have the case in which
the image the child sees is somehow the ‘meaning’ of itself – here signifier and signified
are harmoniously related, locked interdependently together like signifier and signified in
Saussure’s circle diagram. This of course will not always be the case, because as we have
seen, the relation between signified and signifier is not absolutely stable, and permits the
‘constant sliding of the signifier over the signified’. In the case of the preverbal, pre-Oedipal
child in front of the mirror who has not yet advanced out of an exclusive existence in the
Imaginary, this ‘sliding of signifier over signified’ has yet to happen. No gap has as yet
opened up between signified and what they might signify; as such the child does not yet
possess an unconscious. This apparent harmony, this lack of split between an unconscious
unintended set of meanings and the conscious speaker, is, as Eagleton (1983) suggests,
one way of describing the Imaginary order. As suggested above, a gap of sorts needs to be
opened up here, a separation, or split. Why? Because without a gap of this sort the child
will not be able to understand difference, distinction, or, for that matter, rules, the fact that
things have names, that one thing (a word or signifier) can stand in for another (a concept);
the child will instead remain forever in the ‘oneness’ of the Imaginary. Hence it will not
gain access to subjectivity – remembering here that for Lacan one only properly becomes a
subject after one acquires language.
no longer exist, and, once again, people are able to gain a sense of what happened. This
substitutive function is absolutely vital. Indeed, we will not be able to express ourselves in
language without this very fundamental understanding: words stand in for the object they
represent; they come, in a sense, to replace the things to which they refer. Lacan describes
this in a rather dramatic fashion: ‘the symbol manifests itself first … as the murder of the
thing’ (1977: 104).
Lack, for Lacan, forces us into the Symbolic. It is just such an opening up of a lack, a lack
we incessantly try to fill – or, in different words, the identification of a ‘lost object’ that
we are continually trying to ‘refind’ – that best describes the unending substitutions and
replacements of the workings of human desire. A precondition for desire to work in this way
is the unending substitutive operations of language itself. We enter language at the same
time that the law, or, put differently, the ‘name of the father’, comes to be imposed on us.
These two processes are intertwined. Both may be understood as a ‘making of a lack’ that the
continual reference by one signifier to another will try to fill; both result in the installation
of desire as the inescapable condition of the human subject.
Operations of subjectivity
The ‘coming into being’ within language is a structural analogue of sorts for the ‘coming
into being’ as a sexually differentiated social subject within the Oedipus complex. It will
hopefully become clear now why such a detour into the discussion of linguistic concepts is
so crucial: this is a model of sorts for Lacanian psychoanalysis, one which gives us the basic
procedures and operations necessary for the differentiation (or identification) of the sexed
subject. We start here to get the gist of Lacan’s meaning: sexual identity only comes about
as a result of difference and distinction. The child’s identity as a subject is constituted by
relations of difference and similarity in relation to those around it, and by lessons of exclusion
and absence. For the Oedipus complex to be resolved, we need to be able to differentiate
ourselves from others, and, as importantly, we need to be able to differentiate between the
particular sexed positions of the mother as opposed to that of the father. Furthermore, we
will also need to make the pivotal substitutive step of understanding that although mother
is ‘off limits’, excluded, there might be another similar (substituted) object in the future who
may conceivably take her place as the object of my desire. Similarly, I will, in a way, need
to substitute myself; I cannot usurp my father’s role in the family, rather (speaking from
the position of the boy child) I will have to become a father (and husband) myself within a
different familial context.
Here then we start to see structural parallels between the workings of language and the
process of sexual identification. To reiterate: Lacanian psychoanalysis hopes to use the basic
operations of language as a conceptual template of sorts, as a structural equivalent of the
basic operations of sexual differentiation. Several basic operations (or kinds of relation)
must therefore come to function as rules. (It is helpful here to bear each of these rules in
mind as they relate to the resolution of the oedipus complex.)
❍ A relation of difference: the child must come to recognise that mother and father are
different, that they are each (like signifiers in the system of language) constituted
differently in their relation to another signifier (in this case that privileged signifier will
be the phallus, as I will go on to explain).
❍ A relation of substitution: rather than attempt to be the object of the mother’s desire, to
possess the mother for itself, the child must learn, via the route of substitution, that it
will have to be the object of someone else’s desire, that it will have to be the lover and
partner of some other person. (That one term can stand in for or replace another is a
condition of possibility for language to work, and, in turn, for the social and familial
structure to exist.)
❍ A relation of absence: the child must give up the bond it has with (and the wishes it has
for) the mother’s body. (‘The word is the death of the thing’: to enter the Symbolic is
to incur a certain absence, the ‘making of a lack’ that is the result of the fact that the
whole of my experience, or ‘being’, cannot be expressed within language.)
❍ A relation of exclusion: there is a role which for the child is prohibited: that of being the
parent’s lover. (One must forego exclusively Imaginary modes of identification and take
up one’s co-ordinates within the Symbolic.)
In short then, just as these operations of difference, substitution, absence and exclusion must
be learnt within the domain of language if effective communication is to occur, so they must
be learnt within the domain of subjectivity. In terms of the latter, the child must learn that
these rules apply to itself, that it (like mother and father) may be substituted for another
(it can one day become a mother, a father, a husband, a wife), that it is subject to a law of
differentiation (it must take up a position on either side of the sexual divide, must identify
as masculine, feminine in order to gain entry into the Symbolic order). As is the case in
signification, so it is in the case of subjectivity: identities cannot ultimately come about as
an unrelenting exchange of samenesses.
castration of the entry into language recalls the primal separation of the child from the
mother, which, as we have seen, is only achieved by a movement into the Symbolic. It is
for this reason that for Lacan the human subject is unavoidably split, or ‘barred’. Unlike
humanist conceptualisations of a ‘self’ which is autonomous, undivided, sovereign unto
itself, the subject, for Lacan, is necessarily split as a result of her or his entry into language
which:
produces the division between the subject of the unconscious which stumbles, and
the conscious ego that considers itself as wholly invested in what it speaks … what the
subject says and what is said, the ‘statement’ and the enunciation, never match
(Wright 2000: 74).
To the ‘unknowability’ of the subject to his- or herself (insisted upon by Freud by virtue
of the existence of the unconscious), Lacan adds the unknowability of the subject’s being
within the structures of language. There is no sign that can sum up my entire being, says
Minsky (1996), ‘most of what I am can never be expressed in language. I cannot “mean” and
“be” at the same time’ (156). Leader (1995) makes the same point with a pertinent example:
writing a ‘smalls ad’ with which one hopes to represent one’s self. ‘Single white female who
enjoys walking dogs and reading’: how can such a representation do justice to one’s sense of
who one is? Such an exercise must always remain unsatisfying or incomplete at some level.
It is an exercise that cannot but mis-represent or under-represent me in the process, one that
testifies to the fact that all of what we are cannot be put into language.
We get a sense here of how the first instance of signification, of language, of the use of
symbols, is a kind of ‘cut’ into the Imaginary experience of plenitude and fullness. Castration,
at its most basic, is the recognition by the subject of a kind of lack. Thus, women, no less
than men, must undergo castration. Here we cannot reduce castration simply to a kind of
bodily loss. ‘For Lacan’, writes feminist scholar Deborah Luepnitz (2002), ‘there is nothing
missing from the real of the female body. Lack is something that exists in the Imaginary
register; [castration] is operative for everyone’ (227).
Language itself, in this sense, presents a form of castration, for it introduces a troubling
absence into the life of the subject. There is thus a kind of alienation in language just as
there was in the image. Rose (1982) is succinct in this respect, noting that there is loss and
difficulty in the symbol, just as there was division in the image. Wright (2000) makes much
the same point in offering that: ‘The subject is bound to the Symbolic order, while the ego
cannot escape its Imaginary origin’ (74). The Lacanian subject is as such doubly divided
– alienated by taking on an image as the basis of its identifications which is never itself, and
‘castrated’ by the entry into language such that there is an ever-present gap between what
we intend to say, and what actually is said.
The assumption of language does not of course simply represent a relation of loss; there
is an important gain here also. Language, after all, is our principle means of communicating;
it is by virtue of language that we are able to connect to a network of social meanings.
Language, furthermore, is the means through which we create social bonds. In addition to
this, language is also of course the ‘operating system’ of the unconscious and of desire, both
of which come into existence at the same time. Minsky (1996) expresses this adeptly:
While language, unlike the Imaginary, cuts us off from the objects of our desire (our
mother and our substitutes for her) at the same time, it returns desire to us as we
move, with a new sense of identity as a human subject, from one meaning to the next
in a lifelong search for a perfect fit between language and our fantasy of plenitude
(148).
This Imaginary object of the phallus remains enigmatic, the child does not know what
it is; it is, however, considered to be what the mother most intensely desires, that which
represents an intense concentration of pleasure, be it the relationship with the father (or
an erstwhile stand-in, a lover, a romantic partner, perhaps). This object (or relationship) of
desire is one that the child cannot compete with; indeed, the resultant comparison is one
which humbles the child, be it on the abstract level of its ability to be the phallus, or on the
more concrete level of the child’s own sexual organs.
As viable as such a symbolic equation of father’s penis-phallus may seem, we must
not make any such equation permanent, or reduce it too eagerly to the level of literal
comparison. The Imaginary object of the phallus – as that to which the mother’s desire is
directed – remains always somewhat enigmatic, undefined and ‘veiled’.
T.Shefer
The question of lack is of crucial importance to psychoanalysis, as Fink (1995) asks, “Why would a child
ever bother to learn to speak if all its needs were anticipated?”
comes also to signify the very opposite of completion; it calls attention to the fact of a lack
that needs to be attended to.
relationships that seem to hold the desire and fascination of the parents. It is at this point
when the child understands the phallus in a Symbolic capacity. Luepnitz (2002) is helpful
here when she asserts that the phallus is here not so much a thing as a position through which
different objects circulate:
Adults can use wealth, accomplishments, or their own children as phallic objects. In
this way, the ‘objects’ are desired for their representative value, their capacity to make
the subject feel complete [for how it places them in the eyes of others] (226).
Here are the basic co-ordinates then of what the phallus means for Lacan: initially an
Imaginary object that the child wishes to be, so as to secure the desire of the parents, to be
that desire, yet, eventually, the phallus takes on a Symbolic significance as a signifier of what
the mother or father desires, a token of what the child does not have. As such it is equally a
signifier of lack. The phallus can thus be understood – in the dimension of the Symbolic – as
a ‘signifier of desire’, a ‘signifier of the other’s desire’, a signifier of overwhelming importance
to the child.
It is crucial we grasp the difference between these two different versions of the phallus:
the Imaginary phallus is perceived by the child in the pre-Oedipal phase as the object of the
mother’s desire, ‘as that which she desires beyond the child; the child thus seeks to identify
with this object’ (Evans 1996: 142). The Symbolic phallus is, by contrast, the signifier of the
other’s desire. So, whereas the castration complex and the Oedipus complex revolve around
the Imaginary phallus, the question of sexual difference revolves around the Symbolic
phallus (Evans 1996). This is explained in more detail as we continue.
It should be becoming clear that Lacan’s conceptualisation of the phallus means it never
has to be identified with a physical aspect of the body, or, indeed, with the penis. As an
Imaginary object, the phallus is always something the child cannot reach, something it does
not have, something it understands as lacking. As a Symbolic element, as the signifier of the
other’s desire, the phallus could potentially be an infinite number of possible things.
T. Shefer
What might the attempt ‘to be’ the phallus entail? It is an Imaginary position permitting as much variety as
there are different mothers and children. It is the child’s attempt to be everything for the mother.
before the prospect of an overwhelming maternal desire that it cannot hope to adequately
satisfy. This desire of the mother increasingly comes to be experienced only with reference
to a rival object/person or incarnation of the mother’s desire. Also of significance at this
point is the fact the mother makes for an omnipotent figure whose whims and interests
are of fundamental concern to the child. At this point in the infant’s life – although this is
soon to be changed – the mother’s desire is the principal ‘law’ according to which it lives its
life. (The term ‘law’ is used advisedly here, because prior to the entry into the Symbolic no
binding condition of social law has as yet been imposed.)
The Oedipus complex is only finally dissolved when the equivalent of castration has
been completed. The father intervenes, either directly, or through the mother’s discourse
– through her references and deference to the law thus embodied – and now becomes,
instead of the mother, the omnipotent figure, and more than that, a prohibiting figure who
strictly forbids the desire of the mother. He lays down the law, permitting identification
with him as the one who possesses the phallus, saying in effect to the child, as Benvenuto
and Kennedy (1986) state: ‘No, you won’t sleep with your mother’, and to the mother, ‘No,
the child is not your phallus. I have it’ (134). Interestingly, the law imposed by the father
at this point is not aimed simply at the child, but also at the mother, and, more accurately
yet, at her desire. One of the functions of the father, it seems, is to enforce a certain distance
between the mother and the phallic object, keeping her ‘in the lack’ as it were, retaining the
phallus as his own specific privilege.
is opened by entry into the Symbolic, is a point of absolute necessity. If this distance is
not attained, then one could never aspire to be like one’s father, for example, or to desire
someone like one’s mother; one would be stuck in the attempt to be that father, in desiring
only that mother, as dictated by the directive to ‘literalise’ the phallus.
(For a clear and succinct overview of Lacan’s reformulation of the Oedipus complex, see Evans 1992:
127–130.)
The Name-of-the-Father
To backtrack a little: if the child successfully renounces all attempts to be the Imaginary
phallus, then the phallus will be less an Imaginary object than a signifier of what is missing.
This will be a momentous step in the life of the child. It will open a sense of lack in what
had until this point been experienced by the child as a world of fullness and wholeness. This
is a lack that, as we have seen, is further imposed and reiterated by the subject’s acquisition
of language.
To give up the Imaginary phallus and to take up a relation to the phallic signifier – which
is also a taking up of a position in relation to the Symbolic authority of the figure of the
father – is what will result in the constitution of sexual identity. The phallus thus becomes a
Symbolic function, no longer exclusively an instrument of Imaginary kinds of identification,
and rather a way of putting the subject in touch with the realm of the Symbolic. Perhaps the
easiest way of expressing this is to say that the child will need to substitute the ‘desire of the
mother’ for the ‘name of the father’; a substitution which Lacan describes as the ‘paternal
metaphor’. This operation of substitution is crucial, but it is linked to another operation, as
discussed earlier, the operation of prohibition. This imperative is what Lacan has in mind
with his idea of the ‘Name-of-the-Father’.
What the Name-of-the-Father does is to force the child into the realm of the Symbolic,
into a network of relationships and rules, a series of familial and social structures, in which
it will have to find its feet as a speaking subject. For Lacan, this agent need not be the actual
father, or even a physical person or ‘embodied actor’; the kind of castration we have in mind
here is not literal, but rather symbolic in nature. Wright is useful in this respect, emphasising
that for Lacan ‘the symbolic order … [is] upheld by a “Symbolic father” (the Name-of-
the-Father) which is a metaphor for that which imposes the castration of language and
stands for the ideal exigency of the law’ (70). This is a crucial element of the psychoanalytic
explanation we are attempting to flesh out, for, as Grosz emphasises, ‘Lacan’s understanding
of the Name-of-the-Father, on which the child’s entry into the Symbolic order depends, is a
reading and rewriting of Freud’s oedipal model in linguistic and socio-cultural terms’ (51).
After this symbolic castration, the ‘emergence into language’, the child, who now becomes
a social subject, is qualitatively different to what it was before, ‘reconfigured’ we might say
in relation to its desire. In the words of Benvenuto and Kennedy:
Once the child has acquired language, however rudimentary it may be, then all the
pre-verbal structures are radically altered to fit in with the language system … once the
child has the capacity for language, there is a qualitative change in his [or her]
psychical structure – [they] … become a subject (1986: 131).
In speaking of the Name-of-the-Father, we are referring both to the ‘no’ of the father, the
factor of law and prohibition that this figure introduces into the child’s life, and to the
more abstract status of paternity in patriarchy. We mean also to invoke here a sense of
the weight of paternity, the taking on of the father’s name – for we all take on our father’s
names in patriarchal contexts – the overarching symbolic authority of the father and the
patrilineal tradition in patriarchal societies. (The French nom-du-père, a pun intentionally
utilised by Lacan, may be read equally as ‘the father’s name’ or ‘the father’s no’.) As Lacan
puts it: ‘It is in the name-of-the-father that we must recognise the support of the Symbolic
function which, from the dawn of history, has identified his person with the figure of law’
(1977: 67). To be as straightforward as possible: the Name-of-the-Father is the structural
Symbolic element that serves to separate the mother and the child. It designates the father
in his capacity as a ‘third term’, ‘as a figure who comes between the child and the mother,
and frustrates the child’s desire to be all-in-all to the latter’ (Silverman 1992: 101). It is via
this link – that of the Name-of-the-Father – that the symbolic operation of the phallus is
linked to the father.
The abstract and symbolic quality of this function is made clear by the fact that the
discourse of the mother – or further yet, her relationship to her own Symbolic father – may
be enough to institute this function. As Leader (1995) points out, what matters is not so
much the presence of an actual father or man, but how the figure of the mother manages to
indicate implicitly to the child the existence of a Symbolic network to which they are both
linked, a network which is beyond the Imaginary relation of the two of them (105).
character of the Oedipus complex itself is highlighted in speaking of the paternal metaphor,
as Evans (1992) notes. This metaphor – the substitution of the ‘law’ of the desire of the
mother by the law of the Name-of-the-Father – is for Lacan the fundamental metaphor on
which all signification depends.
In speaking of the ‘paternal metaphor’ and focusing on the crucial substitutive process
that lies at the heart of the Oedipus complex, Lacan is giving us a process of subjectification
which cannot be reduced to questions of the absence or presence of the actual, literal
father. Lacan is very clear on this point: ‘We know today that an Oedipus complex can be
constituted perfectly well today even if the father is not there, while originally it was the
excessive presence of the father which was held responsible for all dramas’ (cited in Rose
1982: 39). By thinking of the father as the function of imposing law, and the process of the
Oedipus complex as a substitution of signifiers, we can see that Lacan is doing his best to
remove this conceptualisation from the essentialisms of anatomy towards something that we
only really need the structure of language to explain (albeit, admittedly, within a patriarchal
social order).
The result of the operation of the paternal metaphor is a signification that the phallus
is lost or negated. The movement from phallus as Imaginary object to Symbolic entity as
signifier of desire/lack is thus ensured and the individual is ‘subjectified’ and sexed according
to the relation she or he subsequently takes up to this signifier of lack.
To (try) to be or to have
We have seen then that the phallus is the primary signifier that is imposed by the Name-of-
the-Father and then secured in the substitute process of the paternal metaphor. It is on this
basis, as Minsky (1996) points out, that the Name-of-the-Father sets in motion the endless
signifying chain that makes the Symbolic and subjectivity possible. To take up a relation to
the phallic signifier thus instituted is what results in the constitution of sexual identity, in
becoming a ‘sexed subject’.
Up until this point, children have not taken on an unconscious relation to the phallic
signifier, and have not as such assumed a sexed position. Lacan argues that both boys and
girls alike must assume their castration at this point. Castration here, used in a somewhat
different way to the usual Freudian deployment of the term, refers to the influence of the
father, to the fact that he makes it impossible for the child to identify directly with the
Imaginary phallus, to attempt to consummate it within themselves.
Castration here refers to the renunciation of the child’s sustained attempt to be the phallus
for the mother, something that the child will never easily forego. Moreover, as Leader (1995)
underlines, this renunciation occurs not simply because the child realises that it is powerless
to incarnate the phallus, but also because it has come to understand that this is in fact
impossible to do. It is impossible, because after the operation of the paternal metaphor, the
phallus is understood to be irretrievably lost. (This understanding of castration is enforced
and supported by the castration of the entry into language discussed above.)
Two different positions hence present themselves regarding this missing phallus, which
is now, to be doubly sure, not an organ, but rather a Symbolic function, a signifier. So,
confronted with the irretrievable loss of the Imaginary phallus, the child takes up a
relationship to potentially having, or to potentially being the phallic signifier (the Symbolic
phallus, in other words.) One can never quite succeed at either of these objectives; we
should not see either of these positions as particularly stable. They are not positions that
may be simply secured or ‘completed’ – such is the precarious nature of sexual identification
for Lacan. As noted above, no one can ever themselves be said to simply have or be the
phallus. It is only through a relation of desire that one can approach a mediated relation
of having or being the phallic signifier. This may occur either through another’s desire for a
phallic quality one is thought to have (such as possessing a desirable phallic object of sorts,
as in the position of masculine sexuality) or through another’s desire for a phallic quality one
is thought to be (such as when one’s body is desired, in the position of feminine sexuality.)
Both of these positions, to reiterate, are somewhat virtual; they are relations to a phallic
signifier, and more than that, relations to the other’s desire. This is worth stressing: given that
the phallus only exists through the mediation of another party (our desire for the other’s
desire), and in reference to the Symbolic order (as an Imaginary object it is irretrievably
lost), the relation that we may attain to the phallus is always only potential, and always only
a relation to the phallus as signifier of lack.
To risk two rather crude formulations here so as to provide a concrete illustration of
Lacan’s very abstract point: what is it that men ‘want’, i.e. that which is both the thing they
desire and how they would like to be seen by others (the thing that makes them desirable
for others)? They would like to be seen as ‘having it’, to be perceived as possessing phallic
signifiers of various sorts; that is, signifiers of phallic endowment, be it of money, power,
wealth, accomplishment. What, on the other hand, is it that women, or those who identify as
women, ‘want’? They would like to be seen as ‘being it’, as being or enacting those signifiers
of that which is most cherished or desired.
We should not forget how crucial the question of desire is to psychoanalysis. The issue
of one’s unconscious desire lies at the very heart of one’s being, despite that it is not directly
knowable to the conscious subject. Questions of one’s desire are always, as suggested above,
also questions of lack, of what one seeks to be fulfilled. This illusion of being fulfilled by the
‘missing object’ that one desires is what makes desire so compelling; it is for this reason that
the phallus works as both signifier of desire and of lack. It is also here worth reiterating the
fact that for Lacan desire is always the desire of the other, that is, a desire for the other’s desire
for us. As such the taking on of a relation to desire is always the taking on of how one will be
desired by an other. (This is a situation which means that our own desire is also, oddly, the
desire of the other; we take on the desire of others, i.e. we desire what our mother desired,
through us.)
The question of the other’s desire and how we try to be that other’s desire is exactly, to
reiterate, what underlines how we come to identify sexually as men or as women. The ‘how
one will be desired’ is crucially different for those subjects who identify themselves as women
as opposed to those who identify themselves as men; this is the factor that differentiates the
relation of being versus having the phallic signifier (bearing in mind of course that one’s
biological body may not be the same as one’s chosen sexuality). It is as if the taking on
of a position of masculinity or femininity, for Lacanian psychoanalysis, is the result of an
unconscious commitment made to the mother (the template for the desiring other to come):
‘I will come to have it for you’ (made by the child who will become a boy, a masculine subject),
or ‘I will come to be it for you’ (made by the child who will become a girl, a feminine subject).
This is an unconscious commitment that lives on, and that correlates to a positioning of the
subject in the Symbolic (a positioning that occurs in relation to the phallic signifier). It is a
commitment that is a ‘taking on’ of a position relative to the Symbolic authority of the father,
the taking on of a location relative to one’s Symbolic castration. It is a commitment to ‘falling
in’ on either side of the division between the sexes – a relationship to the phallus as primary
signifier of difference – and a ‘taking on’ of a desiring relation to a prospective partner.
two unconscious commitments I have mentioned above. The masculine commitment ‘I will
come to have it for you’ (as directed toward a desired other) contains within it the admission
that ‘I do not at the moment have it; someone else does, but I may eventually come to have
it’. As Leader (1995) states: ‘[The male child’s] use of the sexual organ must be based on
the acceptance of the fact that there is a Symbolic phallus always behind him which he
does not have but may one day receive in the future’ (101). Although the masculine subject
is situated in a potential relation of possession to the phallic signifier – he may one day
become a husband, a father, an inheritor of the Name-of-the-Father – this assumption of the
Symbolic phallus is only possible on the basis of the prior assumption of his own castration
(Evans 1992).
We see a different relationship to the phallic signifier and a different type of castration
in the feminine position. The feminine commitment, ‘I will come to be like the phallus’,
In this example, Nick asserts his own desire (to have the desired thing) whereas Sue appeals to the
desire of someone else. The boy wants to win the prized object; the girl aims less at the object than
at being the other girl’s desire, enacting it. ‘What a woman searches for in the world around her is
not an object – female collectors after all, are extremely rare – but [to be] another’s desire’ (Leader
1996: 6). A women’s interest is not simply in having one man or woman (in possessing a phallic
signifier), but rather in understanding a desiring relation, in being able to enact something desired in
being a phallic signifier); this is her route to desire. While this may sound uncomfortably generalising,
and a rather essentialist way of distinguishing between men and women, it is worth pointing out that
what is being described here are two structured relations to desire. Not all subjects who ‘fit the bill’
anatomically speaking, as women, may desire in the way outlined above. However, if Lacan is right, all
people who take up a sexed position as feminine, who sexually identify as women – a group which
of course may include those who anatomically we would identify as men – take on such a structured
relation to desire.
contains within it the admission that ‘I am not it’, that ‘I lack it’, that, as it were, ‘although
I do not and will not be able to possess it, I will be able to be a version of it’. There is clearly
a different order of castration here: whereas the masculine subject remains in a relationship
of potential possession (he may one day come to possess phallic signifiers), the feminine
subject is barred even this potential possession. The only alternative left to her is to come
as close to ‘being’ this signifier as is possible, to make herself into the phallic signifier of desire.
Importantly though, this attempt to incarnate the desire of the other is no longer the
attempt to identify with the object of the mother’s desire – the paternal metaphor has long
since done away with this wish – it is Symbolic rather than an Imaginary positioning, a
taking up of a relation to the phallic signifier.
We may now appreciate the importance of the notion of the phallus in Lacanian theory.
It is the first signifier of sexual difference, a Symbolic function that pins us to either side of
the division between the sexes. It is exactly this taking on of a relation to the phallic signifier
– a signifier that orients us with regard to the questions of lack and the other’s desire for
us – that determines sexual difference. The phallus is not an object, nor is it a reality. It is
certainly not the actual male organ. Rather it is an empty marker of difference, a sign of what
divides us from the Imaginary and inserts us into our predestined place within the Symbolic
order. It is a means of positioning us relative to the Symbolic. For Lacan, sexuality operates
as a law of sorts, something that is ‘enjoined’ on the subject. Individuals must take a choice
that follows the lines of a fundamental opposition: having or not having the ‘phallus’. This
as has been suggested, is a problematic, if not in fact impossible process, and Lacan is at
pains to emphasise to us the constant and ongoing difficulties of this process which makes
sexuality never pre-determined, never finalised. Psychoanalysis and feminism might be said
to come together in their interests in the difficulties of this process, and in the attempts to
further the explanatory and critical value of this concept.
Conclusion
Lacanian psychoanalysis provides us with an impressive array of concepts with which we
may attempt to understand the process of subject-formation and the taking on of sexual
identity. Lacan is successful in reformulating many of Freud’s contributions to the question
of sexual identity outside of the limitations of constant recourse to anatomy or biology. By
further involving concepts of language and signification, by centralising the importance of
the Symbolic, the Lacanian account of sexual difference is able to distance itself to a certain
degree from the literal familial dynamics and anatomical grounds of reference required by
Freud.
Perhaps Lacan’s major achievement in this respect is in offering an approach to
understanding sexual identification which is reducible neither to discourse and the world
of social construction, on the one hand, nor to naturalist understandings which remain
preoccupied with bodily or biological attributes as means of understanding sexuality. He
offers a theoretical account which emphasises the precarious and unfinished nature of sexual
identity in each human subject, but which is appreciative nonetheless of how sexual identity
is legislated within each speaking being, imposed like a law of desire and prohibition, which
requires us to take up a ‘sexed’ position within the Symbolic.
The question of course remains as to whether the many complex and obscure
theoretical formulations that Lacan offers us are the best co-ordinates within which to
understand the conceptual and political challenges of sexual identity within patriarchal
contexts. Do we necessarily want to inherit Freud’s framework of ideas, to apply, albeit
in a more sophisticated manner, the polarity of possessing or lacking the phallus (in
Freud), or potentially having or potentially being the phallic signifier (in Lacan) as means
of understanding sexual difference? The notion of the phallic signifier has, without doubt,
been a profound and challenging theoretical contribution of Lacanian psychoanalysis.
It has been one that a number of feminists have been at the forefront of advancing as
a means of understanding sexual difference in symbolic and non-biological terms, apart
from the dubious trappings of the idea of ‘penis envy’ (Mitchell 1974; Mitchell & Rose
1982; Ragland-Sullivan 1986). Other feminists who have explored Lacanian theory are less
enthusiastic. Grosz (1990, 1992) is concerned that by elevating the phallus to the privileged
position that Lacan accords it, the patriarchal gestures of Freud have simply been repeated
at a higher level, that a sign of masculine privilege has come to be over-valued such that
male dominance is implicitly naturalised.
We may offer a more pragmatic problem with the concept of the phallic signifier: we have
here an esoteric, often opaque and typically jargon-riddled idea that would seem extremely
difficult to apply in practice. Additionally, one often gets the feeling that aspects of Lacanian
theory are still in the process of construction, that they are as yet unfinished, in need of
further refinement or, perhaps more pressingly, simplification. (Note that this chapter focuses
on Lacan’s writings on sexual difference from the 1950s; his later formulations of what he
comes to call ‘sexuation’, as advanced in the 1970s, add a significant level of theory to these
ideas, attempting to formalise his theory of sexual difference with reference to the formulae
of symbolic logic.) This issue aside, it seems important to note that the complexity of a set
of ideas is itself not reason enough to cast them away. There is no reason why the political
task of developing robust and counter-intuitive conceptualisations of sexuality and gender,
as is part of the overarching agenda of this book, should necessarily be straightforward;
practicality and immediacy of application are not the only bases upon which we should
judge critical thought.
A contention here is that the concept of the phallus seems rather overworked: not only is
the phallus an Imaginary object of desire, it is also a signifier of lack, a signifier of desire, the
first signifier of sexual difference. It seems an overdetermined concept – although then again
perhaps this is precisely the point of a concept that Lacan describes as ‘a signifier without
a signified’ (Evans 1992). Lacan does, however, make very large claims on the basis of this
concept. Not only is the phallus the key signifier that governs access to the Symbolic, and
language, not only is it the privileged signifier which determines sexual difference, it also
plays its part, as operationalised in castration anxiety, in founding the human order itself
(as in Mitchell 1982).
More problematic yet perhaps is the inconsistency with which Lacan himself
understands the phallus as a signifier privileged above all others (remember, it is the
signifier which heralds the arrival of social law, the first ‘primal’ signifier which makes basic
social differentiations possible). Derrida (1975), for one, argues that this is an untenable
theorisation in as much as it contradicts the fundamental law of the signifier, as set up in
Saussure’s (1977) original structural linguistic theory that suggests that signifiers only acquire
value and meaning because they are different to other signifiers. Of course this is a valid
contention: it makes no sense to speak of a ‘privileged signifier’ within the context of formal
linguistics; then again, perhaps Lacan’s theoretical project is exactly to try and conceptualise
how such a privileged signifier might exist, and what it might be. We might argue here
that the validity of psychoanalytic concepts should not be seen as contingent on formal
linguistics – this is not their ultimate level of justification.
However we may feel about Lacan’s theoretical system and that of psychoanalysis more
broadly, and wherever we take up a position regarding the debate as to whether psychoanalysis
simply extends patriarchy or whether it diagnoses and explains it, it is hard to deny the fact
that the discourse of psychoanalysis offers us, as a set of conceptual resources, a number of
prospective critical instruments. Neither they, nor it, can simply be ignored.