Key Series: Occupy, Emancipatory Politics, Radical Democracy
In 2011, R.C. Smith published his first book: Consciousness and Revolt. This was followed by a collection of essays, over fifty individual articles and papers, and his most recent book which focuses on a critique of Slavoj Žižek’s Lacanian theory of the subject (with emphasis on an far-reaching alternative to Žižek’s philosophical and political project).
While the subject or focus of his writing may vary from a critique of democracy and the rise of the mass-surveillance state to education and psychology, at the heart of these engagements is the constant presence of an alternative view of social change, which Smith sees at work in the prefigurative, mutually recogntive, grassroots politics of Occupy-style movements.
Focusing on issues of practice, organisation and even a broad critique of politics, Smith explores the revolutionary character of Occupy-style politics while taking on an interdisciplinary perspective (rooted in critical theory) that challenges the popular view of revolutionary change. In the process he offers a thought provoking critique of the history of revolutionary social movements, society and dominating social systems, arguing toward the need for a foundational and holistic view of social, political and economic transformation.
In this two-part interview, a range of issues are explored and the intimacies of the idea of an alternative philosophy of systemic change are considered.
JW: 1) Robert you believe that the Occupy Movement was a success. How did Occupy try to change our ideas about power?
RCS: This is a fantastic question. Let me first start with a few comments regarding the apparent ‘success’ of Occupy, as I think this will lead us toward a fruitful analysis of what really forms the basis of my overall argument about Occupy-style movements. From there it might also be easiest to probe the issue of power.
I would probably be hesitant if not resistant to describing Occupy-style movements as a ‘success’, because I fear that this would imply or be read in line with a sort of instrumental conception, which is actually a position I argue against. So many theorists and academics on the left, moreover, seem content to charge Occupy as being a complete ‘failure’ precisely according to instrumental standards of judgement or criticism. But I argue, along with Richard Gunn and Adrian Wilding (who, it should be said, have also made significant and notable contributions to Heathwood’s series on Occupy), that this is fundamentally misguided. What distinguishes Occupy-style movements from others is not only their refusal of the existing socioeconomic-political order. I think what a lot of people miss is that there are much broader, fundamental processes at play behind Occupy-style events and politics which, in many respects, cannot be judged accurately in terms of their instrumental effect. Gunn and Wilding put it nicely when they reflect that ‘Occupy-style movements are conscious experiments in alternative forms of social organization, interaction, and self-determination’. Occupy’s radical alternative politics, which is open, inclusive, tolerant, non-dominant, non-hierarchical and anti-authoritarian, not only challenges traditional ideas of power, politics, and social organisation; so too does it challenge our instrumental conception of revolutionary social change and the very foundations of modern society – or, I argue, that this is at least the revolutionary horizon in which these movements suggest.
To put it differently: what we witness when it comes to Occupy – what sets Occupy-style movements apart from other instrumental and at times dogmatic movements – is an attempt to advance a revolutionary, grassroots logic of systemic change on the level of praxis, which is fundamentally transformative (or can be) in ways that extend beyond mere instrumental effect. That is to say: the general misunderstanding of Occupy-style politics concerns the criteria by which Occupy-style movements are measured. We witness throughout politics today how political movements, whether opposed to or ultimately in affirmation of the status quo, are assessed by their strictly instrumental effect. Perhaps this is more largely a symptom of the modern epistemic paradigm – what we might otherwise describe in light of a critique of instrumental reason (Adorno and Horkheimer). I mean, it is no secret that a critique of epistemology is a constant focus of my research, and I think that the modern epistemic paradigm (broadly defined) pervades all walks of life, including politics (the left and right spare no exception in this regard).
That said: one might ask, for example, “What specific difference has the Occupy movement made?” My basic response to such criticism – and others at Heathwood tend to share the same position – is that Occupy is not to be assessed strictly in terms of specific policy differences – for example, its effect upon government policy. That is not to say that specific reforms – for example, changes to welfare provision or property-distribution, or the implementation of policy for the immediate relief from precarious conditions – are unimportant. Quite the contrary. The argument, however, is that the ultimate goal or rationale of this emancipatory activity – of Occupy-style events – is the mutual recognition which commonising entails in the field of participatory public engagement. For me, this is Occupy at its most fundamental, irreducible level.
One might reply that, because it wasn’t an instrumental protest, ‘Occupy Wall Street had no aims’ and therefore was unsustainable. But such a line of criticism against Occupy’s politics always strikes me as misread. While such criticisms as ‘there are no aims’, ‘there are no goals’, and ‘there is no hierarchically defined leader to promote and push policy (via traditional circuits of power)’ have been accepted (almost uncritically) by a large portion of leftist theorists, not only are these assertions fundamentally misguided, I think there’s almost an element of myth at work. Let’s be clear about two things: first, OWS didn’t fail; it was systematically destroyed by the state. OWS, like other Occupy-style events, couldn’t sustain itself not because of its remarkable courage to choose to exist outside the traditional ideological structures of power and hierarchy – or to not be an instrumental movement – but because the traditional ideological structures of power and hierarchy unceasingly attacked through its typical instruments of coercion this alternative social (public) space, disintegrating its energy as a positive movement.
One of my favourite things about Occupy in particular is that it can be so organic precisely because it is not instrumental – at least the better parts of it were or continue to be. By this I mean there was and continues to be something very ‘human’ to be observed: its open, inclusive and tolerant politics brought people together from all walks of life in solidarity against the injustices of capitalism, of ‘coercive society’. Perhaps what I appreciate most is that it wasn’t dogmatic, as we witness time and again in the history of politics. One of my favourite images for this reason is the one with the grandparents holding the hands of their grandchildren, walking in solidarity with the protests – I mean, how moving is that? OWS brought people together for all different backgrounds, and there is something so very special about that.
Secondly, it has been well-documented both by activists (such as Yotam Marom) and by critical theorists (such as those at Heathwood) that Occupy Wall Street did have aims and that, Occupy-style politics, as an on-going movement, continues to have clear aims. But the truly revolutionary horizon of Occupy style politics – of Occupy-style events in general – resides in its creation of an alternative ‘mutually recognising’ public space that is encapsulated by the notion of prefiguration. For me, then, Occupy is to be assessed firstly in terms of the alternative public space that it creates and the mutual recognition between individuals that (in however fragile a fashion) it brings into existence. So to say an Occupy-style event was a success – this would mean that it was successful in establishing a radical alternative public space, where mutual recognition obtains, and where individuals could collectively prefigure on the level of praxis a post-capitalist freedom (‘a home where we get to practice the alternative’, as Marom once observed). Gunn and Wilding coined a wonderful phrase in one of our collective articles that captures this last point brilliantly: that ‘for emancipation to be emancipation, it must start as it aims to go on’. I think this is one of the most revolutionary insights. Not only does it presuppose the dialectic between theory and practice, theory and experience, but the argument is that revolutionary social change must be lived. I take this as an affirmation for all of the grassroots movements that I have studied over recent years, from ‘guerrilla gardeners’ in the UK to alternative farms and education facilities – people that are working toward alternatives every single day. There is a real experiential dimension at play here, which I greatly appreciate especially in relation to what I often describe as a ‘phenomenological (‘lived’) ethics’. But I fear that I may be getting off course.
Regarding the question of power, I think the approach outlined above forms the basis for a truly radical understanding of at least one aspect of the overall criteria in which we might not only assess Occupy-style events, but contemporary political movements writ large. That is to say if Occupy-style movements agree to be measured by criteria, it is a criteria rooted in critical theory which, in the context of a fundamental critique of broader social-historical processes, recognises that these movements present themselves not as ventures which may or may not bring about specific reforms, but as grassroots attempts to prefigure a social world which is yet to be. To borrow the words of Helene Finidori, whose work in and around a theory of the commons is most fascinating: there is a ‘commons logic’ at play. In other words, the rationale of these movements for change is historically rooted, acting in part as a response to the tragedy of the commons. I would probably be inclined go a little further than this and ground Finidori’s notion of ‘commons logic’ in a deeper historical perhaps even anthropological study, arguing that this ‘commons logic’ is almost an attempt at working toward ‘emancipatory reason’ (in an Adornian sense). But there is still a lot to be assessed and debated in this respect. In any case, I think Finidori’s observation affirms my own position in the past that if the ultimate goal or rationale of Occupy-style events is mutual recognition, and if commoning entails participatory public engagement, then Occupy and commoning see emancipation in identical terms. The principle of mutual recognition — which we might consider as an egalitarian and emancipated form of interaction — consciously breaks with the hierarchical and undemocratic nature of the capitalist world. Following this line of thought, which builds off of Gunn and Wilding’s work on recognition, it is indeed remarkable how much ‘commoning’ processes are evident, whether explicit or implicit, in Occupy-style events all over the world.
The question of power is certainly present throughout this entire analysis, of which we’ve really only scratched the surface. But in my papers on Occupy to-date I mostly build off of Gunn, Wilding and the Frankfurt School. I really appreciate Gunn, Wilding’s analysis of the shift from contradictory recognition (i.e., one-way circuits of power) to mutual recognition – a shift that can be observed in Occupy-style events. There is something very foundational about this thesis. From the perspective of a critique of epistemology, we could also read this shift as one from dominant subject-object relations to intimate subject-subject relations, something I talk a lot about in my own research. Already one can sense here the emergence of a fundamental critique of power, which Gunn, Wilding discuss in their paper ‘Revolutionary or Less-Than-Revolutionary Recognition’ (Heathwood, 2014), but which I’ve been recently expanding on and will look to broaden further in a series of papers on the pathologies of power and domination. In sum, though, what Occupy-style events all over the world seem to accomplish is that they point toward the revolutionary horizon of a shift from coercive to non-coercive power (on the basis of a shift on the level of praxis to establish mutual recognition). In the process, Occupy-style movements have informed and continue to inform critical theory of a broad, multidimensional and interdisciplinary critique of power.
To close, one thing that is really important to note – and here I agree with colleague Elliot Sperber – is the need to distinguish between coercive power and non-coercive power. I will be addressing this question in detail in my already mentioned series of papers, but for the time being we can say that it is something that different Occupy-style camps haven’t always quite grasped. I mean, power is such an ambiguous thing and this ambiguity really needs to be addressed. But there were times during Occupy Wall Street demonstrations and discussions, as Sperber observes, where reactionary and wrongheaded notions of coercive power (notions that in many ways go back to Sorel) were evidenced. I think this is largely because we don’t have much of a concept of non-coercive power (which is very multidimensional) and even non-violence for that matter. But perhaps this is a point for another time.
JW: 2) Why is it important for us, as a society, to take a look at anarchism and a look back at anarchist thought of the past?
RCS: I’m not sure if I am in the best position to answer this question, as I don’t consider myself an anarchist per se and don’t strictly study the anarchist tradition of thought. I come mostly from the perspective of critical theory (Frankfurt School), which aims to develop a more or less supradisciplinary, integrative and foundational social theory. If anything, I would probably emphasise why it is important for us, as a society, to take a look at critical theory and a look back at the different theses to have emerged out of critical theory in the past, with a mind toward understanding those theses in relation to broader social-historical processes which directly affect the present.
With that said, someone asked me the other day about the intersections between critical theory and anarchist thought, which led to some interesting discussion and debate. Perhaps it will be fruitful to reflect on this a bit in light of the above question. I do think there are points of intersection that we can discern. For instance, in many Heathwood studies one will often read an emphasis toward non-hierarchical, non-dominant, anti-authoritarian alternatives – this is obviously also a popular theme in the anarchist tradition. In many past Frankfurt School studies, particularly in relation to a critique of ‘coercive society’ (i.e., hierarchical, dominant, authoritarian society), which of course aligns with a fundamental critique of the historical genesis of human society, we read very explicit and direct accounts against many things that the anarchist movement (broadly defined) seems to also rail against. This is not to say that the Frankfurt School is fundamentally anarchist, because there are also many fundamental differences. I mean, it would be difficult to sit here and discuss all of the variations of the anarchist movement within such little space and provide a very general caricature, but in general one conflict I feel today is the absolute anti-statist position commonly held in the anarchist tradition. While not necessarily inaccurate in terms of its critique of the State, which is dominant and coercive, I think it fails to recognise the practical need for some sort of state organisation, albeit fundamentally different from modern hierarchical, dominant and coercive state practice. I like to think of this along the lines of a critical concept of the state or, at least, along the lines of its radical reconceptualisation: i.e., the ‘non-state like state’ or the ‘non-state state’ particularly in relation to or coinciding with a radical alternative participatory politics and things like a theory of non-coercive power.
The one thing I will say is that the idea of non-dominant, non-hierarchical human relations is something I admire about the anarchist tradition, and is one thing that should be celebrated with regards to the history of anarchist thought. I also appreciate how certain anarchist movements believe in a sort of anti-dogmatic (open, inclusive, integrative) philosophy and are openly critical of themselves and traditional leftist politics. On the other hand, I do think certain other anarchist movements are susceptible to, have become, or are almost inherently dogmatic. A critique of anarcho-primitivism comes to mind, as well as this strange phenomenon called ‘anarcho-libertarian capitalism’ or something as such. In this respect, I think there are large sections of anarchism that have become bound up in contemporary structures of political thought, which is worth some reflection.
Let me put it more practically: I think David Graeber made the statement somewhere that ‘anarchism is something you do not give an identity so don’t call me the anarchist anthropologist’. To me, this sounds intriguing. I’m not sure if Graeber is signalling toward a similar critique of modern politics, but in general I am quite resistant to the inclination to subscribe to any ‘totalising’ or ‘absolutist’ theory or ‘ism’ and the sort of self-objectification associated with it. I think it is foolish to believe, in the first instance, that any one theory can be pressed upon society, or different societies for that matter, with success. We’ve seen this mistake through the whole communist fiasco of old, which was a complete failure and utter catastrophe. Personally, I consider most every political ‘ism’, ‘ist’ or ‘ian’ (left or right) to be ideological – I mean, even in their differences, they all seem to share very similar epistemological leanings and evidence similar ideological tendencies. I think that if we look at the modern political spectrum – at the very structure and system of modern politics – it’s a complete tragedy in this regard (one that anarch(ism) isn’t necessarily free from): a violent arena principled on a mode of “constitutive subjectivity” (Adorno), which, in a few words, represents a strange but very real inclination toward the belief that the subjective must conform to an overarching abstract framework that completely explains the world. In practise, we create these sort of objectified models, or ultimate frames of order, in which we represent the world, social phenomena, to ourselves in absolute ways. The epistemology behind this is fascinating and in terms of broader social-historical critique, the “dialectic of enlightenment” by Horkheimer and Adorno is most revealing. Politically, however, we then have millions, if not billions of people assuming their different (absolute) positions, arguing against one another (often very dogmatically) on the basis of those positions, in a violent battle, as each group vies for power over the other or to exploit traditional circuits of power in order to push through their ideas, to implement their vision of ultimate order.
It strikes me that the entire concept of ‘politics’ in this respect is very distorted. Of course a critique of party politics is one key to understanding the modern political dynamic, but it’s so much more than this. We hear people speak of ideology all the time as in ‘communist ideology’, ‘capitalist ideology’, ‘republican ideology’, or whatever. But ideology itself has two layers or dimensions: the most obvious is the direct social manifestation of a certain particular worldview. The least obvious and more systemic level, which I find in Adorno, is sometimes what I call ‘the transhistorical ideology of domination’ which represents the very tendency, structure of thought, and process of establishing these objectified models that try to make absolutely conceivable all the world and violently (physically or even epistemologically) subsume what refuses to fit within its representational understanding (i.e., Adorno’s critique of ‘identity thinking’).
The self-objectification involved, too – I mean if you think about how it is actually a dehumanising process. It’s as subtle as one saying ‘I am an anarcho-primitivist’, ‘I am a communist’, ‘I am a right-wing libertarian-capitalist’, which to me essentially means ‘I am an object of this particular politics’. I think in a recent series of talks I made the point of how I find this logic and inclination to self-objectify – this ‘hypostatisation’ of one’s self – so peculiar because something very ‘human’ along the way gets lost in the language or political narrative (I use ‘human’ here not in line with a humanist philosophy, but as set against a critique of the process of ‘dehumanisation’). It is almost as though, in terms of the modern political arena, one’s agency becomes framed (in a manner of speaking) to the totalised political or general worldview that they’ve employed in order to try to absolutely explain the world around them in static and unchanging terms (i.e., correspondence theory of truth). Dogma is born here. In general, I think there’s a real existential dimension to this, which I noted in the past, but more importantly I argue that this sort of thinking on an a political level – not to mention on an experiential or epistemological plane of existence – becomes totally removed from the concrete issues at hand and often what happens is that people just start arguing on behalf of an ideology, on behalf of the dogmatic politics they assume, while people opposite in the debate so easily become reduced to the status of a mere object of the ‘the enemy’, of something that has to be overcome. Then the cycle coercive power resumes, each individual trying to overcome the other.
I’m not sure if this is what Graeber is signalling, that the anarchist tradition is actually supposed to be set against all of this? My own advice would be to always be self-critical: normatively critical. Because often it’s the case that no longer is one actually speaking as an individual who sees and experiences something as an issue – in a grassroots and even participatory political sense. It is no longer about listening to that person’s experience, what they feel and think, and consider why and how that fits (or doesn’t) in line with a radical consensus-based theory of truth (a reference to early Habermas). Of course there is a difference in saying that ‘according to an anarchist critique the state is viewed as an instrument of domination, these are the reason why, which I agree with because of this evidence, etc.’ and speaking from an unwavering system of beliefs in which one has already assumed and is fully committed. Regarding the latter, this could be seen as one manifestation of what Adorno describes as “the subject objectified into character”, which is actually very capitalist and dominant in terms of its epistemology, ultimately resulting in a certain closing-down of the subject to the world on behalf of some sort of abstract analytical structure/framework or totalised experiential orientation. Erich Fromm captures aspects of this in his study of the “automation citizen”, but I am more inclined to agree with Adorno in terms of his critique of identity.
In the end, when one is reviewing and considering the importance of the history of anarchist thought, do so critically, in the first instance, knowing that it is not a pure representation of reality or how to move forward. Constant critique, critical retrieval, and assessment are required in a very open ended way, especially as time unfolds and things change in the course of history. Personally, I don’t think ‘anarchism’ itself is the answer to the problem of global capitalism. Considering the question of an alternative economy, for instance, I don’t think it will be strictly ‘Anarchist’, ‘Marxist’, ‘Communist’, or whatever. None of these are sufficient in themselves. The anarchist movement provides something important, which I think critical theory confirms: things like an emphasis on non-dominance, non-hierarchical and anti-authoritarian social relations, non-violence, non-coercive power, and so on. But I argue that what is required today is a very foundational, holistic and multidimensional approach to the problem of systemic change, one which is supradisciplinary and integrative. That is to say that I think we need an alternative philosophy of systemic change, one that some have previously said has anarchist twinges, but one that doesn’t operate from the basis of some sort of abstract ideological blueprint. On this point, I agree with colleague Arnold de Graaff: There is no ‘ism’ or ‘name-brand’ for this. We have keywords like egalitarian, participatory, horizontal, cooperative, equal, fair, just, sustainable – and descriptive phrases like ‘promoting health and emotional well-being’, and so on. But there is no ‘pure’ ideology, and there is certainly no ‘pure’ or absolute political framework for an emancipatory alternative. I think we really must vacate the realm of dogma, be more complex and integrative in our thinking, and see social phenomena and problems as a constellation of factors, dealing with each issue as holistically as possible. The question I want to ask is: does anarchist thought of past live up to this? I’d be interested to see what some reader’s think.
JW: 3) As we approach a new century Robert, will we see a new social change in society, a new economic system?
RCS: This is the big question, isn’t it? I fear that any response I might give will run for pages (for which I must apologise in advance), because there are a number of deeper questions and issues that we should consider. Perhaps I will only address a couple of these questions, providing a very general picture, particularly around how in order for us to work toward a fundamental transformation of society, I think we need to see the process of social change in a different way. In other words, I think we need to begin approaching this question by considering the need for an alternative philosophy of systemic change. One of the biggest problems today is the lack, in the current political landscape, of understanding of the process of ‘social change’ and of a coherent approach with regards to the formulation of social alternatives, which would acknowledge change as a fluid, multi-directional, integrative, transitory and many-sided human transformation process. In addition, I think that in order to start taking seriously the need for a fundamental reconceptualisation of political-economy, we need a political philosophy rooted in mutual recognition of grassroots praxis, which is prefigurative of a shift to come. So let’s sort of build from here and then tackle a few issues on the road to the big question of social change in the 21st Century.
On the one hand, I agree with Jerome Roos in his article ‘Where has the protest gone?’ (2014) that we need to rekindle the “radical imagination” if we’re going to see a growth of radically democratic, progressive movements in anti-capitalist struggle. I also agree with Roos that “what we desperately need right now is a serious debate within the movements on how to break down the neoliberal control mechanisms of precarity, anxiety and futility — and how to adapt protest tactics and organizing strategies accordingly.” I think his position here is brilliant – very well-read. But I also think it is more than this – I think the question of social change in the 21st Century hinges on a deeper series of problems. I argue, moreover, that if we’re serious of building a radically democratic anti-capitalist movement that can actually endure and change the material constitution of society, we not only need to “find ways to disarm the structural and ideological mechanisms of capitalist control” (Roos, 2014), but also critically retrieve the concept of ‘social change’, of ‘social progress’ – what these mean in terms of the positive, inspiring, reorganisation of society – and therefore together bring new inspiration into the anti-capitalist discourse.
I think, in general, if a popular radically democratic movement is going to build to the similar heights of the mid-20th Century, it has to be more positive, uplifting, inclusive, creative, and democratically empowering in terms of its grassroots praxis and motivation. It needs to also be based around the creation of alternative public spaces, and generally self-educative, as well as critically self-aware of a theory of power and violence, so as not to reproduce circuits of domination. I think early Habermas’ theory of communicative discourse can play a role here. But, and perhaps this will unsettle some people, particularly those that find power in assuming the identity of the ‘revolutionary’ – I think we need to be more open in our communication and dialogue – to be less reactionary and to avoid monological hectoring – because everyone has something to contribute, even the person who doesn’t read revolutionary theory and simply dedicates their time to organic farming or creating renewable energy technologies. As I’ve said, the way forward isn’t going to be found in any ‘ism’ or ‘ist’ – that is, in any totalising ideology.
Considered practically: one person might emphasise the importance on alternative economic structures; another might focus on how to organise and practise psychotherapy differently, emphasising perhaps a more holistic and person-centered (as opposed to an instrumental, objectivistic) approach; while another person might contribute to the formulation of alternatives by inventing a self-recycling shower system, or maybe by pursuing the idea about how to reorganise the school room to be more horizontal and democratic, or whatever. Often people dedicated to such interests get wrongly written off as ‘liberal’, as not being radical enough, but this is bullshit. They all need to be recognised as valuable contributions. We need to get away from the cult of the professional revolutionary – and inspire and support people in the struggle for a better world, to support people to get involved knowing they can contribute to the process in their own way in different areas of life. We need to therefore contribute to and re-inspire the idea that a better world is possible and assist, too, in creating democratic empowerment. I often wonder, in reverse, why it is that anti-capitalist movements, that the notion of revolutionary social change, is often associated with images of the Armageddon? Why do people insist on wearing all black? Why do some insist on putting others down on the basis of some dogmatic monological position, instead of listening, discussing and debating constructively? What is with all of the in-fighting and aggression and even tribalism amongst movements on the left? What’s with the bleak, dark imagery associated with different movements – red or black fists in the air, violent symbols. What is so negative here, why is it even that certain leftist movements feel inclined to create this sort of professional revolutionary, overtly serious and cultist image? What do these symbols say about the reproduction of coercive power? I mean I understand that the struggle, oppression, injustice, corruption creates a lot of anger and frustration and suffering, and these experiences sometimes get projected through violent revolutionary symbols. However should the transformation of society, should the idea of creating a more just and fair society, not be filled with fun, creative, colourful imagery – with open, inclusive, subject-subject relations – about betterment and well being amongst all people? In some ways I think there’s a sort of negative, dissassociative ideology in certain traditional parts of the left, which have then taken over the image of anti-capitalist struggle that doesn’t invite wider participation and inclusion. Roos is absolutely correct, I think, to therefore signal that grassroots movements such as ‘Occupy-style movements’, the Strike Debt campaign, etc. “are instructive in this respect”.
One notable characteristic of Occupy-style events is, as Gunn/Wilding note, the real sense of love, caring, fun, community that is present among people. Critics say they’re carnival atmospheres, hippy-camps with no real aims. But this is such a misguided analysis. That fun, loving, caring, commonising spirit – the public libraries, medical services, food networks – the celebration coincided with serious discussion is important. We need to bring that fun, creativity, sense of community and belonging and caring back to the anti-capitalist struggle for a more just, sustainable and ultimately better world for the benefit of everyone. I don’t think we can be nostalgic and say things like we must ‘recreate 1960s U.S.’ for example. The 60s had a lot of problems – and in some respects Adorno was right to suggest that praxis was blocked with regards to the student uprisings in Germany for example (a point I think is more widely applicable). But popular counter-culture, the different prefigurative movements, had a particularly broad recognition of anti-capitalist struggle. In other words, there was more of a popular sense that another world is actually possible – the concept wasn’t so closed off as it is today – and I think this had a very real cultural dimension (which, while not free from capitalism’s coercive legacy, maintained a sense of collective struggle through symbols, language, music, art and so on): an inclusive spirit that formed popular under-currents that would perhaps rival the power of popular culture today.
In terms of modern day struggle to maintain an anti-capitalist movement, people talk about the need for a ‘spiritual revolution’. I think Russell Brand was the latest to spread this idea through the channels of popular culture. I wouldn’t use the term ‘spiritual revolution’, although I understand what he’s suggesting in this regard. A many-sided human transformation is definitely an important facet, but I would probably say that it is a deeper challenge of our existing state-of-affairs that is required, and within this there is a need for a sort of cultural undercurrent: a sense of recognition of all the forms of struggle produced within the current political-economy. Again, I like the image of an inclusive, mutually recognising sense of solidarity in struggle against not only all of the different effects of capitalist society, but against all injustice and needless social suffering: violence, racism, oppression, environmental destruction, mass surveillance and so on (which are largely systemic).
But I think this needs to be organised around practical questions of labour, of what we want from society, of the basic needs of people, of the idea that actually egalitarian democracy is possible. It is obvious that a sense of collective struggle for a better world has largely disappeared. I mean, we get a sense of collective recognition on occasion. I thought Occupy Wall Street did fairly well at establishing, in terms of a strategic politics, a broad sense of collective recognition. Certain more radical liberal movements – that is, liberal movements that have a potentially emancipatory character and don’t function entirely in concert with the existing system – also seem to be able to maintain a productive sense of collectivity. But it is rare to see anything of great scale maintained, especially in terms of anti-capitalist struggle. Of course a critique of consumerism, how the present system is self-serving, and all the rest is worth noting in terms of trying to understand a lack of more broad collective recognition of anti-capitalist struggle; but, on the flip side, I think Occupy Wall Street and other recent radically democratic grassroots movements showed that such collectivity is not impossible to achieve today. It seems that practical issues around labour, around the common frustration of having to work a shitty job that means nothing to one’s own personal pursuits or interests, around the images of people starving on our city streets – mass inequality – and of homeless youth passed out the bottom end of the system – these types of realities still tend to speak a lot to people. Perhaps, again, this is why I think we need a reclaimed notion of ‘social progress’ as an indicator of just how far off track the present economic system really is, and why we shouldn’t feel as though we have to settle for it. Sometimes practical questions as ‘why hunger, poverty, and other forms of human suffering persist despite the technological and scientific potential to mitigate them or to eliminate them altogether’ (Zuidervaart), seem to touch the basic ideals of a lot of people of diverse background, and highlight an potential opening for a sense of mass collective struggle (hence the power of the ‘99%’ slogan).
On the other hand, if we’re going to take the need for social transformation seriously, we need to be courageous and break away from the traditional left and from its instrumental conceptions of protest. I’ve been hearing a lot of people these days, whose political orientation we might describe as being ‘leftist’, openly exclaim that “the left is dead!” and I think they’re right. Bracketing a critique of the Left and Right which I’ve discussed elsewhere, what we need is not another attempt at organising a ‘new left’ but a reconceptualisation of politics altogether. I think this must coincide with the development of an alternative philosophy of social change. Moreover, I am astounded at how so much of leftist narrative – particularly traditional leftist narrative – is still seriously entertaining such archaic notions of communist party politics and all the rest. Then there’s this continued satisfaction with this strange speculative dependency on the idea of some distant ‘big bang’ event to suddenly spark revolutionary change into action: to therefore violently destroy the present system and start completely anew. If we consider traditional leftist politics for instance – which seems content to reject any sort of notion of horizontalism – there is this dependency on an archaic concept of revolutionary change (i.e., Badiou’s event) that is symbolised by violently overthrowing the present Order and planting a red flag on parliament hill (or there’s a dogmatic emphasis on party politics, political hierarchies and the election of a dominant leader to drive change). I wonder: can these ideas really be taken seriously today? This type of thinking is rooted in the ideological inclination toward the reproduction of social domination. In my experience, there are a lot of people that agree that fundamental system change is required, but what sort of constructive political outlet does this type of theory and politics offer? What aspects of its political philosophy galvanises and inspires people to participate in the everyday creation of new social coordinates, not just in terms of protest but also in the actual creation of concrete alternatives in daily life?
In discussing the need for fundamental systemic change, what I am against are abstract grand narratives of social change, as if ‘change’ itself will occur in the form of some distant revolution and everything will somehow be different as a result. These sort of political theories are neither sustainable nor realistic, and they have a tendency to debilitate the individual from the belief in actually contributing on a daily level toward an alternation of present socio-historical coordinates. They are very one-dimensional and in many ways the opposite of ‘revolutionary’. Also, because the archaic concept of ‘revolution’ here is not anticipated as the result of a truly grassroots (prefigurative) politics and the ‘many-sided human transformation’ that would need to underpin this politics, these type of theories rely on an authoritarian logic wherein people will once again have to adapt to the new system in place. They rely, to put it another way, on the logic of a sort of top-down ‘total social integration’ which, as we’ve witnessed historically in different examples of communist party politics for instance, forces a more or less totalised single (ideological) model onto society without considering the differences of people’s needs in each particular sociohistorical-cultural context. As Stalin once said during the Second World War: “This war is not as in the past …/ whoever occupies a territory also imposes on it his own social system … as far as his army can reach. It cannot be otherwise.” The same logic persists today among “the Left” – the same ideology of domination – which is a violent betrayal of any sort of emancipatory politics. Here, the universal-particular relation becomes just as damaged as it is in global capitalism or the sham of representative democracy. According to this logic – and here I agree with Fromm – a single vision of a ‘revolutionary alternative’ is forcefully integrated – coercively and indeed dominantly – bending people at will and organising therefore an entirely new ‘subordinate populous’. To me, there is nothing more absurd! (Perhaps this is why John Holloway’s thesis of “changing the world without taking power” is so inspiring for many? There is something so fundamental about the disaster of authoritarian revolutionary social movements that Holloway gets, particularly in terms of their reproduction of dominant social systems.)
This doesn’t take away from the fact that, historically speaking, what often provokes movements of ‘change’ is not always a vision of how to improve society, but a general intolerability of present state-of-affairs. In other words, ‘big bang’ events can have a place. A wonderful study by Robert King showed for example how increase in food prices was systemically linked to the emergence of a number of protest movements throughout the world. It’s a practical observation that events can spark movements. So there is that dimension: we’ve witnessed it before. But the most important thing is the long-term view.
This type of approach will not appeal to everyone, especially those who are caught up in the old idea that we can somehow break from the past. Sustainable change is a transitory process. This fundamentally different approach toward the notion of ‘systemic change’ does not cast away the importance of having a greater vision of change, but also understands that theory is rooted in history. The point rather is that systemic change is less linear than traditionally conceived, requiring a more integrated, holistic approach (really, a more foundational one). The system of capital certainly plays a part in creating needless suffering, inequality, injustice, but there are also other factors at play when it comes to coercive, authoritarian and exploitative society (more broadly defined). Political theories and philosophies that argue for a violent overthrow of the present Order don’t consider what happens after the red flag is planted on parliament hill, never mind the fact that they’re instrumental in their use of (coercive) power, domination, to achieve an end. Besides, is the belief really that if the capitalist system were destroyed today peace and harmony would suddenly exist tomorrow? What about a more fundamental understanding of the broader processes of modern society – not just this period in late-capitalism and the neoliberal project – but the broader systemic context of our modern times, including its epistemology, its economic and political rationalities, its thresholds, its pathologies – is the idea that all of this would suddenly disappear?
Adorno was right in this regard: such a naive approach will likely bring us back around in circles and reproduce the same historical problems. In fact, history is largely defined by the reproduction of dominating social systems: the epistemological, anthropological, cosmological properties, systems and structures of the ideology of social domination extend beyond capitalism. This is one of the most important points about the dialectic of enlightenment. To simply strip one system and replace it with another doesn’t guarantee the promise of Utopia, the end of the fundamental drives toward social domination. Central to Adorno’s entire philosophical project is an argument toward the need for a more concrete understanding or theory of radical praxis. In this way: if capitalism as a system of in-direct domination (i.e., Marx’s analysis of the abstract nature of domination evidenced by the type of social relations that the system of capital produces) emerged in history as an alternative to systems of direct domination – the fundamental question we face becomes, then, how might we formulate, in the present, a truly progressive and emancipatory (systemic) alternative without reproducing direct or in-direct systems of domination?
In an over simplistic sense, if a more foundational understanding of the negative aspects of ‘coercive society’ can help shape our practical actions in terms of anti-capitalist struggle and formulation of alternatives as part of a transitory process, then I think we have much more of a chance of bringing about longer term sustainable change. This is not a smooth linear process. Change, in this way, is always unfolding process, rooted in normative critique and relentless inspection via the tools of critical theory. What this suggests, for me, is that if we are going to take seriously a revolutionary anti-capitalist movement, we not only need theories that challenge the systems, structures, maps of power, and conceptual apparatus navigating the social, political, and cultural infrastructure of global capitalism today, but theories that also emphasise the importance to see social change as a truly foundational shift that extends beyond the political or economic realms, and that is rooted in grassroots (prefigurative) praxis. In considering any notion of a systemic alternative we also need to consider the individual, emotional, psychological, relational, economic, biological, etc. needs of people. Purely economic or political theories don’t cut it. In turn, if the ultimate measure of change that might help inspire a more inclusive movement with critical mass is whether needless social suffering is successfully being relieved at the level of ordinary people (Adorno again), then here is our compass to help us navigate the ‘truth context’ when it comes to measuring ‘social progress’. This is an important point moving forward, because it is this truth context that will help us to continue to identify and define fundamental, meaningful ‘change’ and ‘progress’ across all spheres of social life.
Finally, with a very crude caricature of the above analysis in mind, I think we can approach the question of change in the 21st Century while doing justice to all of the alternatives that presently exist or are being developed or experimented with. We begin to get a sense of a bigger and more integrative picture, the long term view of systemic change. Roos talked about the sense of futility today in the anti-capitalist struggle and I think he is spot-on. We really do need to find a way to disarm, through non-violence and non-coercive power, the structural and ideological mechanisms of capitalist control, as well as organise together a radically democratic anti-capitalist movement that can actually endure and change the material constitution of society. Occupy-style movements represent significant steps in this regard, but so does a broader systemic perspective. There are so many alternatives being developed, explored, examined and experimented with that it’s almost impossible to keep up. Almost every week we’re introduced to new projects here in Europe and in North America – great projects, varying widely, but nevertheless driven toward creating alternatives across all spheres of society: i.e. to change systems, structures, practices – however micro – within the greater systemic context of late-capitalism. I mean from the public orchards in Scotland to this phenomenon I just learned of called ‘guerilla gardening’, which obviously has very distinct ‘commonising’ elements. Then there’s also all the different radical alternative education facilities and movements, the different experiments and projects regarding sustainable agriculture and town planning and economics, to the different co-operative movements (whether Universities or workplaces). If we had more space we could discuss and explore dozens, if not hundreds of examples of alternatives – we could go on and on for hours and really only scratch the surface. But I suppose the point is that, while the situation remains bleak, and while it remains important that we keep normatively critical of our present socio-historical circumstance, we can also recognise the tremendous amount of movement toward the development of alternatives across all spheres of society. It’s even silly things – or what might appear as trivial alternative phenomenon which doesn’t get a lot of media – like freecycle networks or even practical things like car-sharing or independent media outlets. Then there are other examples like community-run sustainable energy projects in Spain, which I recently read about. Then there’s obviously and perhaps most importantly, the radical (participatory) democratic movements emerging throughout the world – the ‘Occupy-style movements’.
All of these examples are practical illustrations of alternative systems and structures, organisations and dynamics, being developed in affirmation of the need of fundamental social change. Are they an ‘end’ in themselves? Of course not. But are they direct channels that can help empower and re-inspire the idea that change is within a person’s grasp? Yes, certainly; and I think this is extremely important. They represent people trying to develop and help foster change on an ‘everyday level’ in their own way and in different areas of life. They represent concrete viable alternatives that are being worked out, tested and redeveloped through direct engagement with the issues and solutions at hand.
In closing, the transformation of society is not impossible. We’re learning more and more about the fundamental problems of human society, how to navigate in a radical-democratic way the socio-historical process of change. With regards to direct economic alternatives – the creation of a new economic system – the same analysis applies. Right now we have theories being explored around worker co-ops, economic and inclusive democracy, participatory economics, commons-based movements, peer-to-peer movements, which, alone don’t suffice, but each contribute something together to the bigger discussion and debate. Then, perhaps in the future, if a system can be developed on the basis of the best of what we know today, might new concepts be developed, explored and experimented with, step by step.
To illustrate this I use the example of economic democracy (and theories of inclusive democracy) as being a first step within the existing dynamic of a market-based economy, and how this system could even work with participatory economics as a transitory approach toward further development of a potential non-market based economic system (I don’t think we can expect to strip the present system(s) overnight and suddenly implement a non-market, perhaps communistic alternative – we have to work toward it). It’s not that I necessarily champion economic democracy or participatory economics as ‘the final answer’, because, as Horkheimer would say, that information is not available to us today: we cannot determine absolutely what a good, a free society would finally look like from within the society which we now live in. The point is in the approach: economic democracy, which is still market-based, would arguably open up a lot more space (which capitalism doesn’t allow) for commons-based movements, for more experimentation for horizontal organisational, to free existing small business and projects to shift toward social enterprise, for potentially non-market based economic alternatives like Parecon or whatever to be experimented with and developed further on the level of praxis. Coupled, too, with things like the Basic Income Law, democratising of agriculture and countless other policies and alternatives – we’ve suddenly started formulating a good first historical step – breaking the hold of the ideology of ‘growth’, cooling down the economy, exploring the foundations of a sustainable and co-operative society, while ensuring a concept of ‘social progress’ in genuine ways. So it is this notion again of a transitory theory of social-historical change and of a radical dialectical political praxis.
I think that if we consider the above approach we begin to see that fundamental change is possible. It’s just that it takes constant work and that it is a constant struggle. In the most socially democratic periods of capitalism – which was evidenced after the Second World War – there was constant anti-capitalist protest, strong unions, the normative threat of worker uprisings and so on, and the existence of possible of alternatives – the big one obviously being the Soviet Union – which forced the capitalist system to bend, to spread wealth around a bit, to buckle to the weight of demand to create a more socially just system. I mean, the counter-culture movement was huge. But I think David Graeber is right in this regard, these normative waves or cycles of resistance have largely receded – by which I mean the constant threat by the public body that ‘we’re not going to stand for it anymore’ – and what we’ve witnessed as a result is the more or less dramatic unbarred intensification of capital. As Graeber rightly points out, no one in their right mind is going to champion the revival of the Soviet Union, but there are concrete radical democratic alternatives available to us that challenge the status quo. We live in an age of a tremendous amount of ideas regarding post-capitalist alternatives. These are now being coincided with and affirmed by radical democratic movements emerging throughout the world – again creating a ‘commonising’ sense of revolutionary struggle. And perhaps this is the next step? These movements (such as Occupy) are so significant, not only in terms of the radical alternative political horizon that they symbolise or prefigure, but because their inclusiveness, their openness to dialogue and debate and collaboration – to also experiment with alternative public spaces and explore a prefigurative politics on the level of praxis. They represent a very deep challenge against neo-liberal processes, and now there’s an increasing amount of possible alternatives to support these movements so that they can say: ‘we are not going to stand for this anymore. We no longer have to..’. There’s no doubt that we face a challenge to break the hold, concentrated power, and barbarity and violence of neoliberalism and state capitalism: with radical democratic movements facing horrible, violent, repression from the state. We need to address this. But considering the above political analysis, one might dare to suggest that we can begin, as Lambert Zuidervaart says, to ‘hope in the midst of hopelessness’.
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R.C. Smith
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