The debate between the policy positions of Ron Paul and John McCain is emblematic of the Republican divide in the U.S. around warfare. It also epitomizes the selfish myopia of many Republicans voters too ignorant or vindictive to connect the dots. McCain asserts that non-intervention, which he likens to isolationism, is what led to Hitler's rise to power, while Ron Paul advocates a position for the U.S. that rejects global militarism in favor of 'trade, travel and talk'. As these two candidates argued this point last night during the 'CNN/Youtube Debates' (a farcical spectacle if I've ever seen one), both were met by simultaneous cheering and booing.
Now, McCain is a number of derogatory nouns that I could spend hours listing, but he is at least coherent. In McCain's America, the US military would be (likely more effectively than under Bush) deployed throughout the world, reasserting neocolonial domination by imposing ideologically driven value systems on the conquered nations. At home, the federal government would act as the vanguard for the securitization of America in favor of the white christian male minority, and a thinner state would enact economic policy that favors corporate elites. For McCain, war is the endless, belligerent state that the American government should engage in - military and ideological warfare abroad, class and social warfare at home. Coherent, methodical and exacting in its hatred for everyone that does not reflect his power background.
Ron Paul on the other hand is a confusing character. On the one hand he vociferously advocates individual freedom for all as a libertarian, yet on the other he favors subjecting individual freedom to the iron grip of an intense national state that will seek to crush freedoms like immigration and abortion. Furthermore, he advocates the inconsistent and Utopian vision of a capitalist society without government regulation. But, back to the subject at hand, Paul rejects military warfare, arguing that American should only engage in warfare for "defensive" purposes (though, this is precisely how Bush sold Iraq pre-emption at first), all the while advocating combinations of policies that actively propagate class and social warfare on behalf of elites. Those who share the individualist and static conception of human nature that Ron Paul clearly has are undoubtedly familiar with Hobbes's classic phrase "war of all against all". Most of his supporters have failed to reconcile the contradictions implicit in a capitalist-libertarian conception of human nature that would prove Hobbes right. What is scary is that the few ideologues who have come to terms with this eagerly relish the Battle Royale that is to come if they end up in power.
Perhaps, deep down, Ron Paul is as coherent as John McCain. Perhaps he does understand that the policies he is proposing will quite obviously entrench social inequalities and widen the income gap - infringing on a great American constitutional freedom: that of general welfare. Maybe he is merely positioning himself at the top of the pack in the "war of all against all" that he sees occurring. But if so, this is not evident in his policies, nor in the vehemency of his misguided supporters. Coming from a point of principle, the state is a dangerous entity in the sense that it usurps decision-making power from each of us, no matter how "democratic" the process through which this takes place. However, efforts to reduce its influence, and more importantly, what social order will take its place, need to be reflective, purposeful and progressive. Abolishing the state without systematically addressing structural inequalities reproduced within the economy and society will certainly lead to the vindication of Hobbesian thought. John McCain understands this very well, and in response is interested in using the state to further entrench these inequalities. Ron Paul and his followers, at least on the surface, are woefully deluded.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Sixty Years On, the Cycle Continues
Steve Paikin and The Agenda have reminded me of an extremely important anniversary coming up this Thursday, Nov. 29th : 60 years ago, the United Nations decided to arbitrarily seize the land of the Palestinians and offer it as compensation to Jewish people reeling from the horrors of the holocaust. Immediately after the first wave of settlement, the Israeli state began its program of land 'expansion', evident below. 
Now, this is undoubtedly a complex issue with no complete solution that is immediately implementable. However, I was struck by the comments of Yossi Klein Halevi, the Jewish 'video guest' brought on to spark discussion. He argued a point that was seemingly innocuous, positive even, but - if you really want to be reflexive and historically grounded, as Halevi argues - was actually quite oppressive.
Halevi focused his monologue on the cultural and ethnic narratives we all have, and the historic unwillingness of both Israelis and Palestinians to acknowledge the legitimacy of 'the Other'. He argued that while the Jewish people have come to terms with their belligerent past, now accepting of a two-state solution, the Palestinians are still bent on the destruction of the Israeli state, incapable of acknowledging 'the Other'. To frame the situation like this makes sense if, and only if, both parties are on equal terms, politically and economically. But, as this is not the case, this argument will inevitably entrench historic oppression, forcing the victims to bear an equal share of a burden that was unequally dealt.
The years of constant denigration faced by Arab Palestinians, both within 'Israeli' and Palestinian territory and worldwide from the international community, are not something we can ask them to shrug off as if they did not matter. It is easy for Jewish Israelis to 'acknowledge the other' (though of course, never in government policy) after sixty years of 'reparations' in the form of foreign aid and economic opportunities - not to mention political autonomy. Defenders of this privilege try to offset the gap by emphasizing the barrage of violence Israelis have had to graple with (though never with any mention of disproportionality). But the real disconnect is between the limits of Israeli civil society's acknowledgement of the other's narrative (always in simple, though important, political terms) and the lived economic and cultural realities of the Palestinians.
Ahistoricity is a powerful concept for dominant groups wishing to legitimize their dominancy, but it is obviously the death knell for any hope of redressing inequities. Yet ironically, the only history that (some) Jewish people like to consider is the one that legitimizes their presence in the Middle East. Some of the most vociferous advocates of this history live in the United States, and yet none are willing to acknowledge the much more recent right to that territory by a variety of indigenous groups. If we trace back our history far enough, none of us have the right to be anywhere on this earth, as only some few million years ago, we didn't exist as a species. Instead of jockeying for some kind of fabricated "right" that could fantastically legitimize the various occupations of humanity over the course of its storied history, we should be focusing on seriously working towards addressing inequalities that result from those occupations.
History is not something we can ignore altogether, nor something we can circumvent by reaching back indefinitely. It is something that we have to acknowledge, understand, and deal with, if we wish to achieve real progressive solutions. That necessarily means the giving up of privilege for some. Any 'solution' that leaves this, and consequently history, off the table is no solution at all, but merely more fuel for the cycle of oppression to continue.
Now, this is undoubtedly a complex issue with no complete solution that is immediately implementable. However, I was struck by the comments of Yossi Klein Halevi, the Jewish 'video guest' brought on to spark discussion. He argued a point that was seemingly innocuous, positive even, but - if you really want to be reflexive and historically grounded, as Halevi argues - was actually quite oppressive.Halevi focused his monologue on the cultural and ethnic narratives we all have, and the historic unwillingness of both Israelis and Palestinians to acknowledge the legitimacy of 'the Other'. He argued that while the Jewish people have come to terms with their belligerent past, now accepting of a two-state solution, the Palestinians are still bent on the destruction of the Israeli state, incapable of acknowledging 'the Other'. To frame the situation like this makes sense if, and only if, both parties are on equal terms, politically and economically. But, as this is not the case, this argument will inevitably entrench historic oppression, forcing the victims to bear an equal share of a burden that was unequally dealt.
The years of constant denigration faced by Arab Palestinians, both within 'Israeli' and Palestinian territory and worldwide from the international community, are not something we can ask them to shrug off as if they did not matter. It is easy for Jewish Israelis to 'acknowledge the other' (though of course, never in government policy) after sixty years of 'reparations' in the form of foreign aid and economic opportunities - not to mention political autonomy. Defenders of this privilege try to offset the gap by emphasizing the barrage of violence Israelis have had to graple with (though never with any mention of disproportionality). But the real disconnect is between the limits of Israeli civil society's acknowledgement of the other's narrative (always in simple, though important, political terms) and the lived economic and cultural realities of the Palestinians.
Ahistoricity is a powerful concept for dominant groups wishing to legitimize their dominancy, but it is obviously the death knell for any hope of redressing inequities. Yet ironically, the only history that (some) Jewish people like to consider is the one that legitimizes their presence in the Middle East. Some of the most vociferous advocates of this history live in the United States, and yet none are willing to acknowledge the much more recent right to that territory by a variety of indigenous groups. If we trace back our history far enough, none of us have the right to be anywhere on this earth, as only some few million years ago, we didn't exist as a species. Instead of jockeying for some kind of fabricated "right" that could fantastically legitimize the various occupations of humanity over the course of its storied history, we should be focusing on seriously working towards addressing inequalities that result from those occupations.
History is not something we can ignore altogether, nor something we can circumvent by reaching back indefinitely. It is something that we have to acknowledge, understand, and deal with, if we wish to achieve real progressive solutions. That necessarily means the giving up of privilege for some. Any 'solution' that leaves this, and consequently history, off the table is no solution at all, but merely more fuel for the cycle of oppression to continue.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
Praxis and the Engine of Revolution
I came across this very interesting image detailing the reform process underway in Venezuela. As usual, this is courtesy of Venezuelanalysis.com.
Historically, this has been a pretty common trajectory for new socialist states, begging the quetsion - what is '21st century' about Venezuela's socialism? Or perhaps the more pertinent question is how accurate a depiction of the revolutionary process this image is?
Rather than follow a linear '5-step' process, Chavez has cobbled together a number of these steps, and a host of other strategies to get to where he is now. This graphic, though fascinating - and a great starting point for discussion - demonstrates the disconnect between 'theory' and 'practice' that orthodox Marxists have consistently reinforced. Can't anyone recall Gramsci?
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
The ILO and Reactionary Politics
Venezuelanalysis.com has recently posted an article on its site discussing ILO criticism of Venezuela's treatment of business leaders. The article also goes on to praise Colombia for the "progress" it has made protecting labor leaders. Now, I know the ILO has not exactly been calling for the end of capitalism since its creation in 1919, but since when did it become its ardent defender? Both claims of the ILO, situated in proper context, are absolutely ridiculous, and the organization should be ashamed of its contributions to reactionary politics.
Labor conditions in Venezuela have improved, if only marginally, in the last 10 years. According to CEPAL-ECLAC's 2006 Statistical Yearbook, the unemployment rate has gone from among the higher half in the region in 1990 and 1995 to the lower half of the region in 2005 - this taking into consideration the brutal opposition-organized strikes in 2003. Female urban labor participation rate has made some of the biggest gains in the region, rising from 37.5% in 1990 to 51.7% in 2005, and the gender wage ratio, charting the average pay of women in relation to men, is the best in Latin America, rising from 80.4% in 1990 to 99.7% in 2005 . Enrollment in primary education - necessary to ensure bright futures for workers - has gone from 82.1% in 1995 to 92.0% in 2004, and gains in second and third level education enrollment have been even larger. On the business side, gross capital formation has made steady gains from $18 billion (in current market prices) in 1995, to $30.3 billion in 2005, with comparable gains for gross fixed capital formation. Related statistics show similar gains for domestic industry. (CEPAL statistics are available here). Labor conditions in improving in Venezuela, if only marginally right now, and clearly, so are the prospects for capital.
Meanwhile the situation in Colombia is much more dire. No fewer than 26 unionists, including 5 union leaders, have been killed in Colombia this year. Since 1986, Colombia's Escuala Nacional Sindical has recorded over 2500 murders of unionists. Thus, the 2007 numbers are down from the 21-year average of 119, but this is hardly the cause for a pat on the back. Most union members in Colombia are assassinated by right-wing paramilitaries, and given Uribe's close ties with these groups, as is slowly coming out now, justice will not be served until he is out of office, and these murderers are thoroughly prosecuted for their crimes instead of being offered amnesty. (Colombia statistics available here).
Capital has its advocates in the form of the WTO, World Bank, IMF, OECD, a whole host of agencies within the UN, and of course, most national governments around the world. The ILO should stick to its mandate by promoting the interests of "working people", not "owning people", and certainly needs to consider context when praising a country which has one of the highest rates of labor-related murders in the world. Either the quality of ILO's scholarship and research should be called into question, or they have become traitors to those they swore to defend. Neither would surprise me.
Labor conditions in Venezuela have improved, if only marginally, in the last 10 years. According to CEPAL-ECLAC's 2006 Statistical Yearbook, the unemployment rate has gone from among the higher half in the region in 1990 and 1995 to the lower half of the region in 2005 - this taking into consideration the brutal opposition-organized strikes in 2003. Female urban labor participation rate has made some of the biggest gains in the region, rising from 37.5% in 1990 to 51.7% in 2005, and the gender wage ratio, charting the average pay of women in relation to men, is the best in Latin America, rising from 80.4% in 1990 to 99.7% in 2005 . Enrollment in primary education - necessary to ensure bright futures for workers - has gone from 82.1% in 1995 to 92.0% in 2004, and gains in second and third level education enrollment have been even larger. On the business side, gross capital formation has made steady gains from $18 billion (in current market prices) in 1995, to $30.3 billion in 2005, with comparable gains for gross fixed capital formation. Related statistics show similar gains for domestic industry. (CEPAL statistics are available here). Labor conditions in improving in Venezuela, if only marginally right now, and clearly, so are the prospects for capital.
Meanwhile the situation in Colombia is much more dire. No fewer than 26 unionists, including 5 union leaders, have been killed in Colombia this year. Since 1986, Colombia's Escuala Nacional Sindical has recorded over 2500 murders of unionists. Thus, the 2007 numbers are down from the 21-year average of 119, but this is hardly the cause for a pat on the back. Most union members in Colombia are assassinated by right-wing paramilitaries, and given Uribe's close ties with these groups, as is slowly coming out now, justice will not be served until he is out of office, and these murderers are thoroughly prosecuted for their crimes instead of being offered amnesty. (Colombia statistics available here).
Capital has its advocates in the form of the WTO, World Bank, IMF, OECD, a whole host of agencies within the UN, and of course, most national governments around the world. The ILO should stick to its mandate by promoting the interests of "working people", not "owning people", and certainly needs to consider context when praising a country which has one of the highest rates of labor-related murders in the world. Either the quality of ILO's scholarship and research should be called into question, or they have become traitors to those they swore to defend. Neither would surprise me.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
A Little Brie on Saturday Night
I received some free tickets to see Bon Jovi last night in Ottawa, and despite the rearview seating, I must say it was a great concert. I'm not particularly a fan of the group, though I absolutely love the Young Guns II soundtrack, and am sympathetic to their glam rock roots. The little I have heard of their recent albums before last night I can say I actively disliked. But anyone who appreciates top-notch musicians and performers, regardless of musical allegiances, would have been pleasantly surprised by Saturday's concert.
The first few songs, even the classic You Give Love a Bad Name, were full of cheese - brie to be exact. But a few beers helped break down the socially-derived inhibitions that make everyone crack a wry smile when they hear the name "Jon Bon Jovi". Quickly, I couldn't help but realize how impressive - in terms of effort, band tightness, technical talent, catchiness, and performance value - the band was. They kept the entire stadium cheering and singing until the very end.
The band spit out song after song, with no break or unnecessary banter for almost 3 hours. A few hilarious fillers, such as the 'time warp' intro to Runaway worked more to put a smile on the faces of the undedicated than to prompt ridicule or disdain. Highlights of the show were Ritchie Sambora singing These Days, and phenomenal versions of I'll Be There, Keep the Faith, Wanted Dead or Alive, and Livin' On a Prayer. Throughout, the band performed at the highest level, far outdoing most bands I have seen. Considering that this show is 25 years into their career, in a time when most of the "classics" are in decline, the effort was all the more impressive.
Say what you want about the flavor of cheese that Bon Jovi exudes, in terms of performance value, there are few concerts that could have been better. The full setlist from the show is available on Bon Jovi's website.
The first few songs, even the classic You Give Love a Bad Name, were full of cheese - brie to be exact. But a few beers helped break down the socially-derived inhibitions that make everyone crack a wry smile when they hear the name "Jon Bon Jovi". Quickly, I couldn't help but realize how impressive - in terms of effort, band tightness, technical talent, catchiness, and performance value - the band was. They kept the entire stadium cheering and singing until the very end.
The band spit out song after song, with no break or unnecessary banter for almost 3 hours. A few hilarious fillers, such as the 'time warp' intro to Runaway worked more to put a smile on the faces of the undedicated than to prompt ridicule or disdain. Highlights of the show were Ritchie Sambora singing These Days, and phenomenal versions of I'll Be There, Keep the Faith, Wanted Dead or Alive, and Livin' On a Prayer. Throughout, the band performed at the highest level, far outdoing most bands I have seen. Considering that this show is 25 years into their career, in a time when most of the "classics" are in decline, the effort was all the more impressive.
Say what you want about the flavor of cheese that Bon Jovi exudes, in terms of performance value, there are few concerts that could have been better. The full setlist from the show is available on Bon Jovi's website.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Call It What It Is...
Canada's RCMP is embroiled in yet another scandal this week after the unprovoked "death" of a Polish traveller by taser. Robert Dziekanski had arrived in Vancouver after his very first flight with instructions to wait in the baggage claim area for his mother to pick him up. Unfortunately, she was unable to gain access to this area and her repeated attempts to make contact with her son fell on deaf ears. After some waiting, she was told by airport staff that her son never arrived and that she should go home (obviously they never bothered to check the passenger list). Nearly 10 hours after his arrival, unable to communicate with anyone around him, Robert became aggravated and began throwing objects around - though as eye witnesses described, not in a threatening or violent fashion. Though bystanders repeatedly insisted that Robert spoke no English and that a translator was required, airport security called the RCMP, who, without even assessing the situation, decided on tasering Robert. They then cornered him, tasered him twice with 50,000 volts, and proceeded to pin his throat down with their knees until he lost consciousness. This incident was captured on video and is available for viewing here.
Although no one in the media, to my knowledge, has come out and said it, we should call this incident what it truly is: murder. These officers willfully disregarded the life of this innocent man by rushing to taser him before even assessing the situation. At the very least this is clearly a case of involuntary manslaughter and should be tried as such, as a spokesperson for the Polish Foreign Ministry has suggested. When RCMP officers are murdered in the line of duty, we give them all the sympathy that they and their families deserve (and more). When they do the same to others in society - a society where every life is supposed to be equal to another - they are defended, or cautiously criticized.
Police brutality has a long history in Canada, most of which has gone unpunished. When individuals with the sanction of the state get away with murder, as happens all too often in Canada, we should be seriously worried. With clear evidence of this, in such a callous and despicable form, we should demand that justice be served on behalf of Robert's family, and our society.
Although no one in the media, to my knowledge, has come out and said it, we should call this incident what it truly is: murder. These officers willfully disregarded the life of this innocent man by rushing to taser him before even assessing the situation. At the very least this is clearly a case of involuntary manslaughter and should be tried as such, as a spokesperson for the Polish Foreign Ministry has suggested. When RCMP officers are murdered in the line of duty, we give them all the sympathy that they and their families deserve (and more). When they do the same to others in society - a society where every life is supposed to be equal to another - they are defended, or cautiously criticized.
Police brutality has a long history in Canada, most of which has gone unpunished. When individuals with the sanction of the state get away with murder, as happens all too often in Canada, we should be seriously worried. With clear evidence of this, in such a callous and despicable form, we should demand that justice be served on behalf of Robert's family, and our society.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Symphony and Sense Redux
I've been informed by a friend of a related question asked by Carrie Brownstein. Personally, my "line in the sand" is quite similar to Carrie's. I'm interested in a musical performance, not a dramatic spectacle with a soundtrack. Other elements that bother me are an avowed apoliticism claimed by the band, reactionary politics interspersed into lyrics, and to a lesser extent, a lack of complexity and originality in the work (i.e.: three chord songs in the key of G with some 'fresh' lyrics).
Democracy and the Rule of Law: Reflections on Gerald Frug
Listening to Gerald Frug talk about the concept of rule of law in relation to cities reminded me just how manipulative elites can be. Frug, a distinguished Harvard law professor, is concerned with the deconstruction of the idea of the rule of law as it is popularly understood and disseminated by politicians, businesspeople, and "think" tanks. As Frug points out, this usually is a particular model of market regulation focusing on improving the ability for individuals and groups to engage in capital accumulation. Hernando de Soto has argued in The Mystery of Capital that this, more than any other reason, is why the "third world" is still mired in poverty. In contrast to this notion of rule of law, Frug argues that its importance is in "restraining the excercise of arbitrary power".
This concept seems quite fair, but what exactly might we constitute as "arbitrary"? Fundamentally, Frug points out that arbitrary power is any decision-making authority that is not democratically excercised. This too warrants a definition: for Frug, "democracy is a lived experience" empowering people with greater control over their lives, rather than a simple electoral formula or representativeness in a legislature. Thus, Frug's ideal-type 'rule of law' is one that ensures that everyone's voice is involved in decision-making processes. As potential sources of arbitrary power, Frug cites governments, elite experts and professionals, and relevant to his city theme, neighborhood groups.
Beyond a dichotomous assertion of individuality implicit in Frug's understanding of rule of law, he hints at an essential point: if the legal system is founded, as in any representative democracy, on the arbitrary decisions of an elite minority (via the legislature and judiciary), then just how "legal" is it? Frug looks to the communal norms, customs, and checks on power in shantytowns around the world - in short the 'informal' segments of society - and determines that these arrangements are legal in their own right. The imposition of a formal legal system, especially when it is imported from afar via the WB and other development agencies, is clearly an excercise of arbitrary power that infringes on the legal structures of these state-autonomous regions. Now, the legal system of these informal shantytowns may be highly corrupt, immensely hierarchical, patriarchal, and brutally repressive - but then again, looking back on its historical development, so is our own.
Frug instead insists upon a notion of the rule of law that is flexible, situational and context dependent - one that is dynamic, not relatively static, and one that protects the "weak" from the "strong" instead of institutionalizing the power of the latter. Though he discusses this concept with reference to urban localities, he emphasizes that these local structures must not simply form an addition to the formal [national + subnational] legal structure, but radically transform it.
Elites who have a considerable stake in the particular idea of rule of law that is currently being disseminated (read: the formal liberal-capitalist legal structure) seek only to totalize its presence over society. This expansion, while often cloaked in the language of freedom and democracy, is clearly anti-democratic in the sense that it only empowers a small minority. But it is also opposed to the Frugian spirit of the "rule of law", in the sense that it seeks to bolster the hegemony of arbitrary power. This oligarchical format runs the risk of degenerating to blatant totalitarianism, as even if the content of the laws remain fairly liberal in nature, the structure of the legal system will not. Even Friedrich von Hayek warned us against this in The Road to Serfdom!
The rule of law is a welcome ideal that we must always strive for, if it is employed in the Frugian sense. But we should be intensely critical of this concept at all turns. If the bourgeois, questioning absolutism, asked "Whose rule should we submit to?", deciding among themselves on themselves via nascent "democracy", we the masses should ask the same question. Whose laws do we follow, even if we agree with many of them? Who determines which laws are right and just and which are not? Thinking about these questions for only a little while should reveal a radical disconnect between our "rule of law" and democracy.
This concept seems quite fair, but what exactly might we constitute as "arbitrary"? Fundamentally, Frug points out that arbitrary power is any decision-making authority that is not democratically excercised. This too warrants a definition: for Frug, "democracy is a lived experience" empowering people with greater control over their lives, rather than a simple electoral formula or representativeness in a legislature. Thus, Frug's ideal-type 'rule of law' is one that ensures that everyone's voice is involved in decision-making processes. As potential sources of arbitrary power, Frug cites governments, elite experts and professionals, and relevant to his city theme, neighborhood groups.
Beyond a dichotomous assertion of individuality implicit in Frug's understanding of rule of law, he hints at an essential point: if the legal system is founded, as in any representative democracy, on the arbitrary decisions of an elite minority (via the legislature and judiciary), then just how "legal" is it? Frug looks to the communal norms, customs, and checks on power in shantytowns around the world - in short the 'informal' segments of society - and determines that these arrangements are legal in their own right. The imposition of a formal legal system, especially when it is imported from afar via the WB and other development agencies, is clearly an excercise of arbitrary power that infringes on the legal structures of these state-autonomous regions. Now, the legal system of these informal shantytowns may be highly corrupt, immensely hierarchical, patriarchal, and brutally repressive - but then again, looking back on its historical development, so is our own.
Frug instead insists upon a notion of the rule of law that is flexible, situational and context dependent - one that is dynamic, not relatively static, and one that protects the "weak" from the "strong" instead of institutionalizing the power of the latter. Though he discusses this concept with reference to urban localities, he emphasizes that these local structures must not simply form an addition to the formal [national + subnational] legal structure, but radically transform it.
Elites who have a considerable stake in the particular idea of rule of law that is currently being disseminated (read: the formal liberal-capitalist legal structure) seek only to totalize its presence over society. This expansion, while often cloaked in the language of freedom and democracy, is clearly anti-democratic in the sense that it only empowers a small minority. But it is also opposed to the Frugian spirit of the "rule of law", in the sense that it seeks to bolster the hegemony of arbitrary power. This oligarchical format runs the risk of degenerating to blatant totalitarianism, as even if the content of the laws remain fairly liberal in nature, the structure of the legal system will not. Even Friedrich von Hayek warned us against this in The Road to Serfdom!
The rule of law is a welcome ideal that we must always strive for, if it is employed in the Frugian sense. But we should be intensely critical of this concept at all turns. If the bourgeois, questioning absolutism, asked "Whose rule should we submit to?", deciding among themselves on themselves via nascent "democracy", we the masses should ask the same question. Whose laws do we follow, even if we agree with many of them? Who determines which laws are right and just and which are not? Thinking about these questions for only a little while should reveal a radical disconnect between our "rule of law" and democracy.
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Review: The Politics and Aesthetics of The Middle Passage
Good, politically charged films are hard to come by in a world of Hollywood tripe and aesthetic pandering. I recently watched the English version (2003) of Guy Deslauriers' film Passage du Milieu as part of a teaching assignment, and was pleasantly shocked that the spirit is alive and well, if only in somewhat marginalized indie films. The Middle Passage is a brutal indictment of the slave trade and colonialism, while explicitly making the link between the past and present experiences of those of African descent. It combines creative cinematographic techniques, various symbols of West African religion, and a clear and concise political message that is powerful, if not especially visually pleasing.
The Middle Passage tells the story of the experiences of the millions of people (250 million according to Deslauriers!) who were enslaved by West African kingdoms (such as Dahomey), sold to Europeans, and forced over the Atlantic ocean to work in the Americas, through the narrative of a murdered slave who still "haunts" the passage. It is a slow, symbolic, movie that aims for effect via the recurrent imagery of waves lapping against the hull of the boat, rats in the slave hold, and the festering wounds of slaves. The director uses an off-focus lens to blur many scenes, and often frames shots of the French slavers in a very depersonalized way, which works to establish the intersection of history (docu-) and memory (drama). The narrative simultaneously, and somewhat contradictorily, emphasizes the diversity of the African captives while seeking to construct a common continental identity among them by referencing a multitude of religious icons and shared social institutions.
While Deslauriers makes a good effort at this, the artistic aspects of the movie comes across as kind of bland, overdone, and even boring towards the end. The emotional response that he is trying to foster somehow didn't materialize for me - possibly due to the cerebral nature of the script. But the real strength of the movie is not its cinematography, but in the political message it advocates. The contradictory message of diverse "Africans" is laid bare in the final minutes when the narrator states that the middle passage was "a kind of vaccination" for the horrors of slavery to come, and that it created a "new race" of people. Although the temporal reference in the movie is deliberately unclear, The Middle Passage seems to be alluding to the notion of the creation of "race" beginning in the 1500s. References throughout the film suggest that it was the brutality of the Europeans that created a shared understanding of the "African", which obviously did not exist in an era of relatively isolated villages and kingdoms. This is powerful because it links the political claims of those of descendants of slaves in the present wholly to the atrocities of, and interaction with, the Europeans. In other words, the racialized identities of both Europeans and Africans are dependent on the longstanding historical relationship between these two broad groups, and thus any solutions dealing with present problems necessarily require the recognition of this historical interrelationship.
And this is precisely what Deslauriers unequivocally emphasizes. The narrator reminds the audience that it is not the descendants of those that suffered the horrors of the Middle Passage and beyond, or those who suffered under the ineptitude and greed of corrupt African "princes" that should be blamed for their current plight. Rather, blame should be placed on those who gained from this cruel institution and system of relations - and their descended beneficiaries. The institution of slavery is still with us, embedded in our postcolonial societies. If it is not prevalent in overt practice (though existent), it can still be seen in the inequality, discrimination, cultural denigration and remnants of a genocidal past that still flaunts itself in all of our faces. Deslauriers calls for - quite simply - a meaningful dialogue that actually seeks to address the past, rather than those noncommittal people who hope that the kinks will iron themselves out as time transforms memories into forgetfulness. He is much more critical of those who know, and yet actively seek to silence those memories. Ignorance is complicity, and to be complicit is to actively pick up the muskets and whips that European slavers and African kings wielded against so many human beings.
The Middle Passage is a refreshing political manifesto seeking to bridge historical memory with our present political praxis, and I argue that it does so quite effectively. However, this is likely to be lost on the very people that Deslauriers is trying to reach most, due in large part to the cerebral nature of the script and abstract imagery and symbolism. Moreover, from a purely aesthetic point of view, although the film flirts with genius, in the end it delivers a product somewhere between cliche and monotony. Unfortunately, I fear, the effect of the urgent political message greatly diminishes as a result of these failures. The general lack of interest in the film, though it it is available in both English and French, likely confirms my fears.
The Middle Passage tells the story of the experiences of the millions of people (250 million according to Deslauriers!) who were enslaved by West African kingdoms (such as Dahomey), sold to Europeans, and forced over the Atlantic ocean to work in the Americas, through the narrative of a murdered slave who still "haunts" the passage. It is a slow, symbolic, movie that aims for effect via the recurrent imagery of waves lapping against the hull of the boat, rats in the slave hold, and the festering wounds of slaves. The director uses an off-focus lens to blur many scenes, and often frames shots of the French slavers in a very depersonalized way, which works to establish the intersection of history (docu-) and memory (drama). The narrative simultaneously, and somewhat contradictorily, emphasizes the diversity of the African captives while seeking to construct a common continental identity among them by referencing a multitude of religious icons and shared social institutions.
While Deslauriers makes a good effort at this, the artistic aspects of the movie comes across as kind of bland, overdone, and even boring towards the end. The emotional response that he is trying to foster somehow didn't materialize for me - possibly due to the cerebral nature of the script. But the real strength of the movie is not its cinematography, but in the political message it advocates. The contradictory message of diverse "Africans" is laid bare in the final minutes when the narrator states that the middle passage was "a kind of vaccination" for the horrors of slavery to come, and that it created a "new race" of people. Although the temporal reference in the movie is deliberately unclear, The Middle Passage seems to be alluding to the notion of the creation of "race" beginning in the 1500s. References throughout the film suggest that it was the brutality of the Europeans that created a shared understanding of the "African", which obviously did not exist in an era of relatively isolated villages and kingdoms. This is powerful because it links the political claims of those of descendants of slaves in the present wholly to the atrocities of, and interaction with, the Europeans. In other words, the racialized identities of both Europeans and Africans are dependent on the longstanding historical relationship between these two broad groups, and thus any solutions dealing with present problems necessarily require the recognition of this historical interrelationship.
And this is precisely what Deslauriers unequivocally emphasizes. The narrator reminds the audience that it is not the descendants of those that suffered the horrors of the Middle Passage and beyond, or those who suffered under the ineptitude and greed of corrupt African "princes" that should be blamed for their current plight. Rather, blame should be placed on those who gained from this cruel institution and system of relations - and their descended beneficiaries. The institution of slavery is still with us, embedded in our postcolonial societies. If it is not prevalent in overt practice (though existent), it can still be seen in the inequality, discrimination, cultural denigration and remnants of a genocidal past that still flaunts itself in all of our faces. Deslauriers calls for - quite simply - a meaningful dialogue that actually seeks to address the past, rather than those noncommittal people who hope that the kinks will iron themselves out as time transforms memories into forgetfulness. He is much more critical of those who know, and yet actively seek to silence those memories. Ignorance is complicity, and to be complicit is to actively pick up the muskets and whips that European slavers and African kings wielded against so many human beings.
The Middle Passage is a refreshing political manifesto seeking to bridge historical memory with our present political praxis, and I argue that it does so quite effectively. However, this is likely to be lost on the very people that Deslauriers is trying to reach most, due in large part to the cerebral nature of the script and abstract imagery and symbolism. Moreover, from a purely aesthetic point of view, although the film flirts with genius, in the end it delivers a product somewhere between cliche and monotony. Unfortunately, I fear, the effect of the urgent political message greatly diminishes as a result of these failures. The general lack of interest in the film, though it it is available in both English and French, likely confirms my fears.
Monday, November 5, 2007
Symphony and Sense
Who doesn't like good music? Although I've met people who are decidedly (and self-describingly) "anti-music" in my life, most people I talk to are passionate about some form of music or other. I spent this morning indulging in song after song of my "favorite" music: metal. But instead of talking all about metal (though that will come shortly on another site), I would rather ruminate incoherently on the personal experiences that we have with music more generally.
Music, like all cultural productions, evokes an emotional response in the listener that depends on a whole host of factors. Contemporary researchers (such as Bourdieu) have focused on the socioeconomic influence on musical taste, but this is hardly the whole story. Certainly, common cultural bonds rooted in geography, 'race', and class play an important role. But alone, this analysis obscures the deeper connections that some people make with music: that is, the meaning that it has in the constitution of people's personal identities.
It is difficult, and dangerous, to separate personal from social identity - the two are as deeply interconnected as structure and agency. However, in our current technological era, with the ability for most people to independently engage with music, what motivates people to listen to what they listen to? Now, Bourdieu's concept of 'habitus' can take us some of the way in explaining this. For many, private musical consumption mirrors public consumption, easily explained by their internalization of the relevant and appropriate cultural norms for musical taste. But what about others who seemingly straddle typical 'determining factors' for musical preference such as socioeconomic status, geography, and historical time period? What about the poor black Georgian who is piqued by Nordic Viking Metal, despite having no prior contact to the subculture? There is something intimate and highly subjective about musical affinity at its point of first contact that cannot be wholly explained with reference to 'objective' social structures, as they are elucidated by Bourdieu.
I can remember well over a decade ago listening to Astrud Gilberto and Stan Getz's version of Girl from Ipanema, having had no real prior exposure to anything Brazilian (though I did have a longstanding interest in Venezuela) and immediately feeling an unexplainable rush. "World music" was not a particularly popular genre at the time, Brazil had not then gained the international stature that it has now, and this was long before the advent of internet music (aside from MIDI). Prior to this experience, my interests were in popular alternative music and classic rock, hardly in sync with the off-time of bossa nova. How might I explain this sudden connection with a brand new musical style?
I don't think we should abandon the concept of habitus in explaining musical taste, nor am I arguing for a wholly, or even mostly, subjective relationship between an individual and their musical experience. Clearly, it would be false to presuppose such an autonomous relationship when both individual and music only emerge from within social and cultural contexts. But equally as clearly, there are ambiguous, contradictory, and counter-intuitive cultural currents that must be built into any concept of habitus. Any notion of habitus has to take into account what is at the depths of culture, not just at its surface. But to make a short foray in this direction, let me ask a question. Can you provide an anecdote of a particular musical taste you have come to like personally that does not match your 'objective' social background? Why is it that you like that music, and what made you engage with it in the first place?
Music, like all cultural productions, evokes an emotional response in the listener that depends on a whole host of factors. Contemporary researchers (such as Bourdieu) have focused on the socioeconomic influence on musical taste, but this is hardly the whole story. Certainly, common cultural bonds rooted in geography, 'race', and class play an important role. But alone, this analysis obscures the deeper connections that some people make with music: that is, the meaning that it has in the constitution of people's personal identities.
It is difficult, and dangerous, to separate personal from social identity - the two are as deeply interconnected as structure and agency. However, in our current technological era, with the ability for most people to independently engage with music, what motivates people to listen to what they listen to? Now, Bourdieu's concept of 'habitus' can take us some of the way in explaining this. For many, private musical consumption mirrors public consumption, easily explained by their internalization of the relevant and appropriate cultural norms for musical taste. But what about others who seemingly straddle typical 'determining factors' for musical preference such as socioeconomic status, geography, and historical time period? What about the poor black Georgian who is piqued by Nordic Viking Metal, despite having no prior contact to the subculture? There is something intimate and highly subjective about musical affinity at its point of first contact that cannot be wholly explained with reference to 'objective' social structures, as they are elucidated by Bourdieu.
I can remember well over a decade ago listening to Astrud Gilberto and Stan Getz's version of Girl from Ipanema, having had no real prior exposure to anything Brazilian (though I did have a longstanding interest in Venezuela) and immediately feeling an unexplainable rush. "World music" was not a particularly popular genre at the time, Brazil had not then gained the international stature that it has now, and this was long before the advent of internet music (aside from MIDI). Prior to this experience, my interests were in popular alternative music and classic rock, hardly in sync with the off-time of bossa nova. How might I explain this sudden connection with a brand new musical style?
I don't think we should abandon the concept of habitus in explaining musical taste, nor am I arguing for a wholly, or even mostly, subjective relationship between an individual and their musical experience. Clearly, it would be false to presuppose such an autonomous relationship when both individual and music only emerge from within social and cultural contexts. But equally as clearly, there are ambiguous, contradictory, and counter-intuitive cultural currents that must be built into any concept of habitus. Any notion of habitus has to take into account what is at the depths of culture, not just at its surface. But to make a short foray in this direction, let me ask a question. Can you provide an anecdote of a particular musical taste you have come to like personally that does not match your 'objective' social background? Why is it that you like that music, and what made you engage with it in the first place?
Monday, October 29, 2007
Response: On Realism and Environmental Advocacy
A debate has been brewing over the last few weeks between myself and a colleague of mine on the nature of 'truth' and reality and its extension to environmental advocacy strategies. This debate has been especially interesting, picking up from my post on Manuel DeLanda earlier this month and leading most recently to a comment, which I highly recommend reading, available here. The following is a response to that posting, along with a summary reiteration of my earlier position.
I appreciate the simplification of my point - which I wouldn't call 'postmodernist' as much as a position within 'Critical Theory' - but I think what I was trying to get at was missed in the process. Fundamentally, the two positions you are describing involve truth claims about the world, and it is precisely this that I want to think critically about. First, I’ll explain my ‘philosophical’ (or methodological) position on this, then my ‘political’, and finally, bring the two together.
The points that Manuel DeLanda uses to justify his realism, and the ones you bring up in your posting, are inevitably anthropocentric, as is my own position. But they are also anthropomorphic, something I want to explicitly argue against. Let me ask a simple question - 'What is Art?' Is it art when it appears on a tableau? When it involves patterns? When it is 'consciously' or 'deliberately' created? These are extremely biased questions about what is essentially an anthropocentric concept to begin with. We, socially subjectively, define the limits of what "art" is and determine what qualifies and what does not. DeLanda imputes a thoroughly human (and likely culturally specific) understanding of 'art' onto the birds in his example to make a point about the realm of humans - a blatant display of anthropomorphism. In contrast, I argue that any definitive claims about realms outside the human experience are necessarily anthropomorphic, and thus we should readily disclose that position, instead of making and hiding human concepts, values and beliefs in the secure sphere of a higher authority ('nature'). This is ultimately a question of power: to what extent are aspects of humanity immutable - that is, 'natural'? To what extent do our social institutions, practices and norms, beliefs and values have objectively independent manifestations outside of humanity?
This has important implications for the various politics that we are constantly engaged in, especially the current struggle over human ecology. But I look to history to determine how we might frame and shape it. Marxists and Anarchists have long sought to reorient the terms of their debates with their political opponents by freeing it from the realm of humans, thereby gaining legitimacy and authority to carry out their various projects. In these cases, it was partly idealism, stemming from a higher religious authority, that spurred them to embrace the kind of realism that Mao and Lenin were thinking of when they argued that the dialectic contradiction was an essential characteristic of every unit of matter in the universe. Kropotkin tirelessly appealed to the natural world to shore up support for the ideas that mutual aid institutions are a natural part of humanity, against the realism of disfigured Darwinists.
This is an appealing strategy for political action, since it appears to be the ‘easy way out’. By establishing a truth claim that supports your political values, you only need to extend that truth claim to dominate all others, and defend it vigorously against future competing truth claims. Conversely, by orienting human questions around human values, you condition yourself to an endless and grueling battle to assert the "hegemony" (used loosely) of certain values - a constant flux of power-laden ideas, unanchorable within our social vortex. We know the story of the former strategy - realism was coopted (and significantly placed on a pedestal) by those who used it to hide a different set of values within the absolute truths of our time. Pertaining to ecology, realism proved to be highly amenable to the transformation that 'the Great Chain of Being' was to undergo with the loss of its Christian foundations. Carried on in the tradition of Western science, and aided and abetted by scientific Marxism at every turn, what many environmentalists struggle so hard against today has its genesis in the tradition of realism.
Concerning environmental advocacy, the reorientation of debates away from instrumental rationality, though an extremely difficult task, is both necessary and desirable. But how this is done is perhaps my political point of contention. Using realism to achieve this goal - by exclaiming that, objectively, every aspect of non-human nature is "good, in and of itself" - does nothing to challenge the power structure of the human belief system, and is almost certainly to lead to the eventual resurgence of instrumental rationality. In political terms, what is needed is not a change in the government of the governance of the ecological debate, but a regime change that transforms the foundational elements of the way truths are constructed in society.
Thus, I see the philosophical component of environmental advocacy as inextricably intertwined with the political projects that make it up. However, my point was fundamentally missed by equating anthropocentrism with cost-benefit instrumental rationality and with postmodernism (it is not through discourse that we can only understand the world, but as humans, only in human terms, terms which may be fundamentally experiential and non-discursive). What Weber meant by instrumental rationality, and as Habermas has subsequently developed, is not that the the act of valuation is free of 'ends'. I value a tree because it fulfills a psychological and emotional function of my humanity, not because it will become a chair I will sit on. Rather, it is the kind of thought (and really valuation, but a critique of Weber will have to wait), now commonly associated with 'cost-benefit analyses' that need to be rejected. This is inescapably anthropocentric, just as all human action must be - after all, Weber's typology aimed to describe 'social' action. But claiming that this is something that must be 'avoided' only furthers the false dichotomy that 'humans' and 'nature' are separate entities. Rather, it is the combination of anthropocentrism and anthropomorphism with instrumental rationality that needs to be rethought.
All variants of realism seek to covertly extend human values onto nature, thereby claiming an objectively independent basis for their values, which mask the power that they wield. In seeking to circumvent anthropocentrism, we will only further entrench it in the structure of our knowledge systems, something that has been done for far too long in the academy and in 'Western' society. Rather we should embrace our anthropocentrism, and recognize that the range of values and possible actions that we can engage in are endless. This may be a gruelling and thankless task - defeatists might say impossible - but if we are to challenge the Enlightenment project that threatens the world, our world, we must attack it at its roots. Usurpation ultimately never cuts the head off the king. It only holds the place until another usurper, preaching a different message, comes along.
I appreciate the simplification of my point - which I wouldn't call 'postmodernist' as much as a position within 'Critical Theory' - but I think what I was trying to get at was missed in the process. Fundamentally, the two positions you are describing involve truth claims about the world, and it is precisely this that I want to think critically about. First, I’ll explain my ‘philosophical’ (or methodological) position on this, then my ‘political’, and finally, bring the two together.
The points that Manuel DeLanda uses to justify his realism, and the ones you bring up in your posting, are inevitably anthropocentric, as is my own position. But they are also anthropomorphic, something I want to explicitly argue against. Let me ask a simple question - 'What is Art?' Is it art when it appears on a tableau? When it involves patterns? When it is 'consciously' or 'deliberately' created? These are extremely biased questions about what is essentially an anthropocentric concept to begin with. We, socially subjectively, define the limits of what "art" is and determine what qualifies and what does not. DeLanda imputes a thoroughly human (and likely culturally specific) understanding of 'art' onto the birds in his example to make a point about the realm of humans - a blatant display of anthropomorphism. In contrast, I argue that any definitive claims about realms outside the human experience are necessarily anthropomorphic, and thus we should readily disclose that position, instead of making and hiding human concepts, values and beliefs in the secure sphere of a higher authority ('nature'). This is ultimately a question of power: to what extent are aspects of humanity immutable - that is, 'natural'? To what extent do our social institutions, practices and norms, beliefs and values have objectively independent manifestations outside of humanity?
This has important implications for the various politics that we are constantly engaged in, especially the current struggle over human ecology. But I look to history to determine how we might frame and shape it. Marxists and Anarchists have long sought to reorient the terms of their debates with their political opponents by freeing it from the realm of humans, thereby gaining legitimacy and authority to carry out their various projects. In these cases, it was partly idealism, stemming from a higher religious authority, that spurred them to embrace the kind of realism that Mao and Lenin were thinking of when they argued that the dialectic contradiction was an essential characteristic of every unit of matter in the universe. Kropotkin tirelessly appealed to the natural world to shore up support for the ideas that mutual aid institutions are a natural part of humanity, against the realism of disfigured Darwinists.
This is an appealing strategy for political action, since it appears to be the ‘easy way out’. By establishing a truth claim that supports your political values, you only need to extend that truth claim to dominate all others, and defend it vigorously against future competing truth claims. Conversely, by orienting human questions around human values, you condition yourself to an endless and grueling battle to assert the "hegemony" (used loosely) of certain values - a constant flux of power-laden ideas, unanchorable within our social vortex. We know the story of the former strategy - realism was coopted (and significantly placed on a pedestal) by those who used it to hide a different set of values within the absolute truths of our time. Pertaining to ecology, realism proved to be highly amenable to the transformation that 'the Great Chain of Being' was to undergo with the loss of its Christian foundations. Carried on in the tradition of Western science, and aided and abetted by scientific Marxism at every turn, what many environmentalists struggle so hard against today has its genesis in the tradition of realism.
Concerning environmental advocacy, the reorientation of debates away from instrumental rationality, though an extremely difficult task, is both necessary and desirable. But how this is done is perhaps my political point of contention. Using realism to achieve this goal - by exclaiming that, objectively, every aspect of non-human nature is "good, in and of itself" - does nothing to challenge the power structure of the human belief system, and is almost certainly to lead to the eventual resurgence of instrumental rationality. In political terms, what is needed is not a change in the government of the governance of the ecological debate, but a regime change that transforms the foundational elements of the way truths are constructed in society.
Thus, I see the philosophical component of environmental advocacy as inextricably intertwined with the political projects that make it up. However, my point was fundamentally missed by equating anthropocentrism with cost-benefit instrumental rationality and with postmodernism (it is not through discourse that we can only understand the world, but as humans, only in human terms, terms which may be fundamentally experiential and non-discursive). What Weber meant by instrumental rationality, and as Habermas has subsequently developed, is not that the the act of valuation is free of 'ends'. I value a tree because it fulfills a psychological and emotional function of my humanity, not because it will become a chair I will sit on. Rather, it is the kind of thought (and really valuation, but a critique of Weber will have to wait), now commonly associated with 'cost-benefit analyses' that need to be rejected. This is inescapably anthropocentric, just as all human action must be - after all, Weber's typology aimed to describe 'social' action. But claiming that this is something that must be 'avoided' only furthers the false dichotomy that 'humans' and 'nature' are separate entities. Rather, it is the combination of anthropocentrism and anthropomorphism with instrumental rationality that needs to be rethought.
All variants of realism seek to covertly extend human values onto nature, thereby claiming an objectively independent basis for their values, which mask the power that they wield. In seeking to circumvent anthropocentrism, we will only further entrench it in the structure of our knowledge systems, something that has been done for far too long in the academy and in 'Western' society. Rather we should embrace our anthropocentrism, and recognize that the range of values and possible actions that we can engage in are endless. This may be a gruelling and thankless task - defeatists might say impossible - but if we are to challenge the Enlightenment project that threatens the world, our world, we must attack it at its roots. Usurpation ultimately never cuts the head off the king. It only holds the place until another usurper, preaching a different message, comes along.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Four Messages about Life from Spiderman 3
There is no shortage of movies indirectly (or directly) tackling the central themes of the political economic culture of the United States. I had the displeasure of watching Spiderman 3 the other night and found it to participate in the indoctrination of the American populace, alongside more prominent recent releases such as 300. Granted the entire Marvel genre has a storied history of nationalism alongside the appeal to the rebelliousness of teenagers, but Spiderman 3 reeks of pure Hollywood baloney.
The theme of the film - though it doesn't become clear until quite late, with the numerous plot developments the director crams in - is the 'choices we must make'. This is by now a tired story, and I always wonder, how many times can it get rehashed for mass consumption before people get sick and tired of it, or the additional cost of tacking on SFX filler gets to be too much? We all have the ability to bring out the good and bad within us, and so we must choose between the right and wrong, the good and evil, in life. Ok, this doesn't sound all that bad, if slightly boring - but what kind of choices are good, and what are bad? Let us examine the characters, somewhat shallowly, to find some hints.
Peter Parker is, as usual, the classic representation of the American dream. He is a nobody trying to make a name for himself in the big city. Of course, he must 'take his lumps' as he works his way up the career ladder to (eventual) success. His alter-ego, Spiderman, is also the same icon of the selfless man, giving all for fellow citizen, community, city and country - in his spare leisure time, of course. The third film stays true to this, but introduces a few variants: Parker becomes increasingly egoistic and cocky about his alter-ego, especially after the scene were the strange space-goo lands on earth, and this leads to obvious problems in his personal life. Message #1: "practice humility, or else you'll piss people off" - ok, not a terrible lesson to have kids learn.
But of course, an illegal alien arrives, in the form of an "oily" goo from space, which supposedly amplifies peoples character traits. When Spiderman is temporarily 'infected', he becomes quite - well, you'll have to watch the movie to see just what he becomes. Skip ahead to the arrival of Venom, and we see just what this alien oil is all about. Venom is the epitome of what the "foreign temptation" can do for you: bring success quickly, but ultimately corrupt who you really are. Eddie, Peter Parker's real-life enemy, is first infected, then actively embraces this "foreign temptation" as it is passed from Spiderman in, of all places, a church. The oily goo is a placeholder for a number of different symbols, but the Islamic connotation is strong. It cannot stand the sound of church bells, which is ultimately the way to defeat it. Other potential candidates are illegal aliens, due to its origins, and non-christian 'carnal passions', due to the effects that it has on people (makes them feel 'so good', leads to extensive dating, etc.). Message #2: Resist "foreign temptations" that will ultimately corrupt your true American spirit. Hmmm.
The other major enemy, the Sandman, is quite enigmatic. On the one hand, he represents the elusive Arab terrorist, always looking for money to fund his unknown plots, and able to disappear with ease. But as the movie develops, we see that this is not the main intention of the director. Instead, Flint Marko is a symbol of the wrong choices otherwise good Americans can make. Flint explains near the end of the movie that he only got involved with crime to be able to buy the medicine his daughter desperately needed for an operation. Clearly, this is the wrong thing to do. In the end, Marko's character is forgiven by Spiderman, though he is wrought with anguish, repentance, and doomed to live a solitary life, as if he were dead. Message #3: "Even if your intentions are good, it's best to avoid all of the problems associated with crime. Suck it up, and hope your child pulls through. Or lobby the Democrats to pass a universal healthcare bill".
The final character is a villain who becomes an ally. Harry represents the capitalist elite in American society. While his father was driven by a quest for greed and personal glory that ultimately led him to wage a war on the American way of life, Harry's character in Spiderman 3, bridges the gap to aid Spiderman in his efforts to conquer the foreign presence. Message #4: "Capitalism may have screwed you over in the past, but when it comes to keeping out foreign influences in order to protect America, you can count on it. Oh, and it may help you save something else too:
The supporting character, Mary Jane, is the purpose of all this manly jockeying and flexing of muscles. She is constantly used by one enemy after the other to attack Peter "where it hurts most: his heart". Clearly, we must fight for our wives (and mothers - don't forget Aunt May) if the fight for our country is to have any meaning. Much more could be said about the gender roles in Spiderman 3, but I'll leave that for the comments.
The theme of the film - though it doesn't become clear until quite late, with the numerous plot developments the director crams in - is the 'choices we must make'. This is by now a tired story, and I always wonder, how many times can it get rehashed for mass consumption before people get sick and tired of it, or the additional cost of tacking on SFX filler gets to be too much? We all have the ability to bring out the good and bad within us, and so we must choose between the right and wrong, the good and evil, in life. Ok, this doesn't sound all that bad, if slightly boring - but what kind of choices are good, and what are bad? Let us examine the characters, somewhat shallowly, to find some hints.
Peter Parker is, as usual, the classic representation of the American dream. He is a nobody trying to make a name for himself in the big city. Of course, he must 'take his lumps' as he works his way up the career ladder to (eventual) success. His alter-ego, Spiderman, is also the same icon of the selfless man, giving all for fellow citizen, community, city and country - in his spare leisure time, of course. The third film stays true to this, but introduces a few variants: Parker becomes increasingly egoistic and cocky about his alter-ego, especially after the scene were the strange space-goo lands on earth, and this leads to obvious problems in his personal life. Message #1: "practice humility, or else you'll piss people off" - ok, not a terrible lesson to have kids learn.
But of course, an illegal alien arrives, in the form of an "oily" goo from space, which supposedly amplifies peoples character traits. When Spiderman is temporarily 'infected', he becomes quite - well, you'll have to watch the movie to see just what he becomes. Skip ahead to the arrival of Venom, and we see just what this alien oil is all about. Venom is the epitome of what the "foreign temptation" can do for you: bring success quickly, but ultimately corrupt who you really are. Eddie, Peter Parker's real-life enemy, is first infected, then actively embraces this "foreign temptation" as it is passed from Spiderman in, of all places, a church. The oily goo is a placeholder for a number of different symbols, but the Islamic connotation is strong. It cannot stand the sound of church bells, which is ultimately the way to defeat it. Other potential candidates are illegal aliens, due to its origins, and non-christian 'carnal passions', due to the effects that it has on people (makes them feel 'so good', leads to extensive dating, etc.). Message #2: Resist "foreign temptations" that will ultimately corrupt your true American spirit. Hmmm.
The other major enemy, the Sandman, is quite enigmatic. On the one hand, he represents the elusive Arab terrorist, always looking for money to fund his unknown plots, and able to disappear with ease. But as the movie develops, we see that this is not the main intention of the director. Instead, Flint Marko is a symbol of the wrong choices otherwise good Americans can make. Flint explains near the end of the movie that he only got involved with crime to be able to buy the medicine his daughter desperately needed for an operation. Clearly, this is the wrong thing to do. In the end, Marko's character is forgiven by Spiderman, though he is wrought with anguish, repentance, and doomed to live a solitary life, as if he were dead. Message #3: "Even if your intentions are good, it's best to avoid all of the problems associated with crime. Suck it up, and hope your child pulls through. Or lobby the Democrats to pass a universal healthcare bill".
The final character is a villain who becomes an ally. Harry represents the capitalist elite in American society. While his father was driven by a quest for greed and personal glory that ultimately led him to wage a war on the American way of life, Harry's character in Spiderman 3, bridges the gap to aid Spiderman in his efforts to conquer the foreign presence. Message #4: "Capitalism may have screwed you over in the past, but when it comes to keeping out foreign influences in order to protect America, you can count on it. Oh, and it may help you save something else too:
The supporting character, Mary Jane, is the purpose of all this manly jockeying and flexing of muscles. She is constantly used by one enemy after the other to attack Peter "where it hurts most: his heart". Clearly, we must fight for our wives (and mothers - don't forget Aunt May) if the fight for our country is to have any meaning. Much more could be said about the gender roles in Spiderman 3, but I'll leave that for the comments.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Down the Yellow Brick Road, One Last Time
I've long been in private discussions over the relationship between 'free/fair' markets, the validity of gold as a potential currency, and the role of government intervention in markets, and so this post may appear slightly out of context, but it is a response to comments made by Chris Powell of the Gold Anti-Trust Action Committee (GATA). The article is available here: http://www.gata.org/node/5654
The folks at GATA are not necessarily conspiratorial kooks, as they have been pejoratively described. Rather, they are ultra-right wing 'free' marketeers leading an ignorant, misguided, and manipulated - though passionate - segment of the middle-class, nostalgic for the bygone days of pre-73'. Just like, and yet opposite, their counterparts in dominant orthodox economics departments worldwide, they lead those desperate to believe the utopian call for 'free markets' by creating a conspiracy out of what is an obvious and very well-known fact: central banks do intervene and is an explicit part of their mandate.
Where this becomes especially manipulative is when the Midas-wannabes at GATA allege that the actions of all the world's central banks are aimed at the "price suppression of gold". Either this is extreme ignorance demonstrating a thorough lack of understanding about the way global prices operate in a semi-floating exchange rate system, an inane ego-mania that is likely what warrants GATA being branded 'conspiracy theorists', or most likely, a rhetorical tactic to simplify a complex (though unfair) global economy for mass public consumption which masks the elite interests that it truly serves.
The main objective of central banks (dealing with fiat currency) worldwide is to maintain the stability of their currencies, and thus national economies, in the pursuit of various distributions and allocations of wealth in society. These objectives can vary drastically, but usually aim to dampen business cycles by bailing out uber-capitalist bankers, and inducing certain consumer behaviours (in investment for example) by setting interest rates and adjusting the money supply. We can, and should, dispute who is served most by this system (consider for example, that the vast majority of bankers have obtained a safety blanket in the current sub-prime debacle while unlucky home buyers declare bankruptcy by the thousands), but we should also note that the ability to adjust the money supply somewhat arbitrarily provides a modicum of support for workers and consumers who would otherwise be flattened in the event of an exogenous shock (say a shortage in staple foods, driving up prices).
The price of currencies and commodities in this mixed or 'managed float' exchange system are mostly set by independent and institutional investors, and supposedly reflect their confidence in those currencies (though much currency trading is predatory, irrational and of course, speculative). The extent to which these currencies are impacted by this trading depends on the relative interest they attract in currency markets, and the strength of its central bank carrying out its 'management' of the price. Gold is viewed - although highly problematically - as an alternate 'safe-haven' to the US dollar, which has long maintained its hegemony in global currency markets, and thus as confidence in the US dollar declines, the Federal Reserve sells gold to buoy the price of the USD, just as Asian central bankers manage their USD reserves to set the prices of their currencies. That currencies and commodities are all interconnected in global markets is hardly a conspiracy - though some may wish to frame it that way.
Our current mixed exchange system (with the exception of a few fully-fixed, 'dollarized' economies) is the historical antecedent of the Bretton Woods system, which is itself the antecedent of a full gold standard system, explains the lingering cultural obsession with gold (which is as arbitrary as any finite, durable, and portable commodity), along with the irrational and naive nostalgia of those imagining a corruption-free and opulent 1920s. That is indeed true conservatism. Ironically, those clamoring loudest for a return to the "realities" of the gold standard, are those who undoubtedly benefited the most from the Keynesianism of the 50's and 60's - the so-called 'Golden Age', imperfect though it was. Where gold advocates are so far gone, however, is when they presume gold to be a "real" standard of value, unlike "false" fiat, seeking to secure some sort of false legitimacy. This masks the real point at issue - they are dissatisfied with the arbitrary hegemony of the USD (or the Euro, or Yen, etc.), which obviously does not benefit them directly as it does primary shareholders in the fiat system, and want to replace it with the equally arbitrary hegemony of gold. Thus, those who advocate the dissolution of the central banking system may drape their call in the language of the radical democratization of economic control, but what they are really advocating is a much darker minority class revolution against the current elite, and most certainly against the masses. It is no surprise then that major notable supporters of the gold standard are Ayn Randian Objectivists, Austrian School Economists and hard-line monetarists like Milton Friedman, conservative populist Ron Paul, and yes, even Alan Greenspan (and we know where his interests lie).
And that is really what the reification of gold is really about - the return to the gold standard - even if it is idealized as being controlled decentrally via the world price, rather than by a government of body of governments. It is gold that is true, and nothing else; gold that deserves to be hegemonic, and consequently, those that control it. It is, in the end, a utopian call for "free" markets, so akin to neoliberals, and so fundamentally ironical that it borders on farce, that is most deadly to the multidude of disenfranchised who would be told to "sink or swim". This class project has already been carried out too many times, and the story is always the same.
Supporters of gold must either admit their complicity in this class project, and engage in clear debates that will ultimately expose their true intentions, or accept that the price of gold is by no means an improvement over our current broken system. What is needed is progressive and pointed criticism of the current economic order, and suggestions towards a better and alternative future, not reactionary criticism that will ultimately work to entrench the current order, or worse, successfully push it further right. It's time to end this 'yellow brick road' fantasy, so emblematic of yet another manipulative fallacy, and finally focus on meeting the needs of all, so we can collectively explore our creative ingenuity.
The folks at GATA are not necessarily conspiratorial kooks, as they have been pejoratively described. Rather, they are ultra-right wing 'free' marketeers leading an ignorant, misguided, and manipulated - though passionate - segment of the middle-class, nostalgic for the bygone days of pre-73'. Just like, and yet opposite, their counterparts in dominant orthodox economics departments worldwide, they lead those desperate to believe the utopian call for 'free markets' by creating a conspiracy out of what is an obvious and very well-known fact: central banks do intervene and is an explicit part of their mandate.
Where this becomes especially manipulative is when the Midas-wannabes at GATA allege that the actions of all the world's central banks are aimed at the "price suppression of gold". Either this is extreme ignorance demonstrating a thorough lack of understanding about the way global prices operate in a semi-floating exchange rate system, an inane ego-mania that is likely what warrants GATA being branded 'conspiracy theorists', or most likely, a rhetorical tactic to simplify a complex (though unfair) global economy for mass public consumption which masks the elite interests that it truly serves.
The main objective of central banks (dealing with fiat currency) worldwide is to maintain the stability of their currencies, and thus national economies, in the pursuit of various distributions and allocations of wealth in society. These objectives can vary drastically, but usually aim to dampen business cycles by bailing out uber-capitalist bankers, and inducing certain consumer behaviours (in investment for example) by setting interest rates and adjusting the money supply. We can, and should, dispute who is served most by this system (consider for example, that the vast majority of bankers have obtained a safety blanket in the current sub-prime debacle while unlucky home buyers declare bankruptcy by the thousands), but we should also note that the ability to adjust the money supply somewhat arbitrarily provides a modicum of support for workers and consumers who would otherwise be flattened in the event of an exogenous shock (say a shortage in staple foods, driving up prices).
The price of currencies and commodities in this mixed or 'managed float' exchange system are mostly set by independent and institutional investors, and supposedly reflect their confidence in those currencies (though much currency trading is predatory, irrational and of course, speculative). The extent to which these currencies are impacted by this trading depends on the relative interest they attract in currency markets, and the strength of its central bank carrying out its 'management' of the price. Gold is viewed - although highly problematically - as an alternate 'safe-haven' to the US dollar, which has long maintained its hegemony in global currency markets, and thus as confidence in the US dollar declines, the Federal Reserve sells gold to buoy the price of the USD, just as Asian central bankers manage their USD reserves to set the prices of their currencies. That currencies and commodities are all interconnected in global markets is hardly a conspiracy - though some may wish to frame it that way.
Our current mixed exchange system (with the exception of a few fully-fixed, 'dollarized' economies) is the historical antecedent of the Bretton Woods system, which is itself the antecedent of a full gold standard system, explains the lingering cultural obsession with gold (which is as arbitrary as any finite, durable, and portable commodity), along with the irrational and naive nostalgia of those imagining a corruption-free and opulent 1920s. That is indeed true conservatism. Ironically, those clamoring loudest for a return to the "realities" of the gold standard, are those who undoubtedly benefited the most from the Keynesianism of the 50's and 60's - the so-called 'Golden Age', imperfect though it was. Where gold advocates are so far gone, however, is when they presume gold to be a "real" standard of value, unlike "false" fiat, seeking to secure some sort of false legitimacy. This masks the real point at issue - they are dissatisfied with the arbitrary hegemony of the USD (or the Euro, or Yen, etc.), which obviously does not benefit them directly as it does primary shareholders in the fiat system, and want to replace it with the equally arbitrary hegemony of gold. Thus, those who advocate the dissolution of the central banking system may drape their call in the language of the radical democratization of economic control, but what they are really advocating is a much darker minority class revolution against the current elite, and most certainly against the masses. It is no surprise then that major notable supporters of the gold standard are Ayn Randian Objectivists, Austrian School Economists and hard-line monetarists like Milton Friedman, conservative populist Ron Paul, and yes, even Alan Greenspan (and we know where his interests lie).
And that is really what the reification of gold is really about - the return to the gold standard - even if it is idealized as being controlled decentrally via the world price, rather than by a government of body of governments. It is gold that is true, and nothing else; gold that deserves to be hegemonic, and consequently, those that control it. It is, in the end, a utopian call for "free" markets, so akin to neoliberals, and so fundamentally ironical that it borders on farce, that is most deadly to the multidude of disenfranchised who would be told to "sink or swim". This class project has already been carried out too many times, and the story is always the same.
Supporters of gold must either admit their complicity in this class project, and engage in clear debates that will ultimately expose their true intentions, or accept that the price of gold is by no means an improvement over our current broken system. What is needed is progressive and pointed criticism of the current economic order, and suggestions towards a better and alternative future, not reactionary criticism that will ultimately work to entrench the current order, or worse, successfully push it further right. It's time to end this 'yellow brick road' fantasy, so emblematic of yet another manipulative fallacy, and finally focus on meeting the needs of all, so we can collectively explore our creative ingenuity.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Yeah MMP - No, You Don't Know Me
Well, as usual, this post is coming much too late. But, better late than never, and at least I can use this moment to make a foolish prediction before the votes are tabulated. MMP will not pass in Ontario tonight, but I, ever the optimist, think it will garner between 51 and 55% of the vote, probably on the lower end of that range. The reasons for this are diffuse: anti-MMP media coverage in the urban local media, and a poorly timed and planned public awareness campaign on one hand, and a sense of real excitement by all marginalized groups (left and ultra-right) in Ontario that this is a chance to make a real change on the other. I still haven't decided whether or not MMP will gain a simple majority in each riding - I have my doubts about some of the rural ridings in Ontario, since, unlike with STV in BC in 2005, outlying ridings aren't likely to benefit with MMP. Probably it will fail on both super majority requirements, though will get closer than most pundits are predicting.
Anyway, I want to use this time to clear up two major issues that have been flying around about MMP, which, as of yet, I haven't heard anyone explain adequately. The first regards the increase or decrease in accountability with the new system, the second is about the 'democratic' nature of open-list PR.
First, MMP does not produce more 'accountability', a loaded word if I ever heard one. The current FPTP system blends two distinct political identities into a singly vote - namely, the individual or 'personal' candidate identity, and the party identity. It is extremely unclear in most cases to any analyst or politician just what we are voting for when we go to the polls. Many people know extremely little about their individual candidate's biography or accomplishments and instead rely on cues from their party affiliation. Some people disdain party politics altogether and vote solely on the candidate's merit. Still more know a little bit of both and in many cases face an internal struggle of what identity to vote for - person or party. Such was the case in the 2004 federal election where many extremely popular candidates were thrown out because of their Liberal party affiliation.
What MMP does produce is the distinction and integrity of the votes cast (a form of accountability I suppose) so that we can single out each aspect of a given candidate's identity and engage in a more nuanced and complex selection process. This is why many proponents rightfully claim it is a more 'democratic' system, since the electoral process pays much closer attention to our personal preferences as political subjects. Actually, I kind of lied. MMP, as a mixed system, does not truly separate our preferences into two distinct camps. Instead, it keeps the muddled camp of personal candidate and party, and then adds a third camp for just the party affiliation. A much better system, though Utopian and impracticable given the historical evolution of the party system in Canada, would be to disallow party affiliations for individual candidates at the local level, and maintain provincial (or federal) parties. In any event, MMP in its proposed form is clearly better at capturing the diversity of people's political preferences than FPTP, and goes some 0f the way (though not far) in resolving Charles Lindblom's classic dilemma (see The Market System).
The second point regards the selection process of the party list system. Proponents of MMP somewhat erroneously claim that the new electoral system will immediately bring more diversity in candidates (i.e.: women, visible minorities). This is false, since the proposal of the Citizen's Assembly, to the best of my knowledge (though I haven't checked officially), does not clearly stipulate how nominations to the list will occur, only that the list must be made public some time before the election. Now, most reasonable analysts note that the process is likely to be the same as the current party nomination process, which isn't very democratic. There is one slight difference however that could make a big impact: the public scrutiny function.
Currently, party nominations occur completely behind closed doors, and when the official procedures are followed, a select minority of the party elite get to be part of the selection process. When a candidate is finally revealed to the public, in most cases, we have no knowledge of the wrangling that happened behind the scenes - the public is presented with a single candidate, take them or leave them. Because this process happens in diffuse ridings, most electors do not pay attention to other non-high profile candidates in other ridings. Since the homogeneity that one so often finds within a party's candidates is primarily decentralized and local, with no direct mechanism for concerned citizens in Toronto to raise eyebrows at the candidate selected in Kenora, it makes fingering a party's racism and sexism extremely difficult.
The list system forces the party to put its cards, so to speak, on the table in terms of what it stands for. Since everyone in the province will eventually vote for the candidate list, there is more 'accountability' to voters to justify why the composition of that list is the way it is. There is also a direct interest for provincial and national media to scrutinize the party lists, since it becomes a provincial issue. Rarely do media institutions beyond the local or urban criticize the nominee process, except in a general way that leads party leaders to blush, say 'oops', and move on with their rejection of diversity. To be clear, there is nothing in the electoral system that guarantees this process becomes more accountable. This is a cultural issue as much as it is geographic one. But I would argue that the format of this electoral system makes it easier to force parties to respond substantively to these issues. The empirics from other countries, for the most part, support this argument as well.
So, a futile post perhaps (though not as intellectual excercize), but at least it will be ready the next time we have to vote for electoral reform. In the meantime, cast your vote in the spectacle we call democracy, and hold on for your life for the next four years. The likely outcome on both the ballot and electoral reform are not likely to bode well for anyone that I would like to be reading this post.
Anyway, I want to use this time to clear up two major issues that have been flying around about MMP, which, as of yet, I haven't heard anyone explain adequately. The first regards the increase or decrease in accountability with the new system, the second is about the 'democratic' nature of open-list PR.
First, MMP does not produce more 'accountability', a loaded word if I ever heard one. The current FPTP system blends two distinct political identities into a singly vote - namely, the individual or 'personal' candidate identity, and the party identity. It is extremely unclear in most cases to any analyst or politician just what we are voting for when we go to the polls. Many people know extremely little about their individual candidate's biography or accomplishments and instead rely on cues from their party affiliation. Some people disdain party politics altogether and vote solely on the candidate's merit. Still more know a little bit of both and in many cases face an internal struggle of what identity to vote for - person or party. Such was the case in the 2004 federal election where many extremely popular candidates were thrown out because of their Liberal party affiliation.
What MMP does produce is the distinction and integrity of the votes cast (a form of accountability I suppose) so that we can single out each aspect of a given candidate's identity and engage in a more nuanced and complex selection process. This is why many proponents rightfully claim it is a more 'democratic' system, since the electoral process pays much closer attention to our personal preferences as political subjects. Actually, I kind of lied. MMP, as a mixed system, does not truly separate our preferences into two distinct camps. Instead, it keeps the muddled camp of personal candidate and party, and then adds a third camp for just the party affiliation. A much better system, though Utopian and impracticable given the historical evolution of the party system in Canada, would be to disallow party affiliations for individual candidates at the local level, and maintain provincial (or federal) parties. In any event, MMP in its proposed form is clearly better at capturing the diversity of people's political preferences than FPTP, and goes some 0f the way (though not far) in resolving Charles Lindblom's classic dilemma (see The Market System).
The second point regards the selection process of the party list system. Proponents of MMP somewhat erroneously claim that the new electoral system will immediately bring more diversity in candidates (i.e.: women, visible minorities). This is false, since the proposal of the Citizen's Assembly, to the best of my knowledge (though I haven't checked officially), does not clearly stipulate how nominations to the list will occur, only that the list must be made public some time before the election. Now, most reasonable analysts note that the process is likely to be the same as the current party nomination process, which isn't very democratic. There is one slight difference however that could make a big impact: the public scrutiny function.
Currently, party nominations occur completely behind closed doors, and when the official procedures are followed, a select minority of the party elite get to be part of the selection process. When a candidate is finally revealed to the public, in most cases, we have no knowledge of the wrangling that happened behind the scenes - the public is presented with a single candidate, take them or leave them. Because this process happens in diffuse ridings, most electors do not pay attention to other non-high profile candidates in other ridings. Since the homogeneity that one so often finds within a party's candidates is primarily decentralized and local, with no direct mechanism for concerned citizens in Toronto to raise eyebrows at the candidate selected in Kenora, it makes fingering a party's racism and sexism extremely difficult.
The list system forces the party to put its cards, so to speak, on the table in terms of what it stands for. Since everyone in the province will eventually vote for the candidate list, there is more 'accountability' to voters to justify why the composition of that list is the way it is. There is also a direct interest for provincial and national media to scrutinize the party lists, since it becomes a provincial issue. Rarely do media institutions beyond the local or urban criticize the nominee process, except in a general way that leads party leaders to blush, say 'oops', and move on with their rejection of diversity. To be clear, there is nothing in the electoral system that guarantees this process becomes more accountable. This is a cultural issue as much as it is geographic one. But I would argue that the format of this electoral system makes it easier to force parties to respond substantively to these issues. The empirics from other countries, for the most part, support this argument as well.
So, a futile post perhaps (though not as intellectual excercize), but at least it will be ready the next time we have to vote for electoral reform. In the meantime, cast your vote in the spectacle we call democracy, and hold on for your life for the next four years. The likely outcome on both the ballot and electoral reform are not likely to bode well for anyone that I would like to be reading this post.
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Tragedy for the Commons
There's nothing quite like a brisk walk through the forest in autumn. The leaves displaying every hue of green, yellow, orange and red, and the crisp air make September through November the best time of year in Ottawa, in my opinion. But imagine my surprise when, in trying to access a particular entry point to Pinhey Forest off of Slack Road, I found the path barred and closed indefinitely. Now, this particular entry point happens to be on leased property, at the back of a Church to be precise, and I had a sneaking suspicion that the relatively new tenants of the building, Living Waters Christian Assembly, had something to do with it.
Let me say from the outset that I have no particular vendetta with any religious organization, except a general disdain for the hypocrisy of rhetoric and reality that the vast majority of these institutions perpetrate. I would like to say that evangelical groups do not make this list, led defiantly in the west by the Catholic Church, but unfortunately, those that I have observed are certainly card-carrying instigators of social oppression. In retrospect, my mistake was prejudging Living Waters, a faith I had hitherto heard nothing about, for rabid antisocial and exclusionary behavior. Nevertheless, I was certainly not incorrect in my rash presuppositions, and what follows is an account and analysis of a tragedy for the commons.
So, after finishing my walk via an access located 300m or so down Slack Road (which, repaved and speed limit increased, is living up to its earlier drag strip title - this safety reference just a nod to all those affronted by any deviation from legal orthodoxy), I returned home and decided I would finally follow through on some long-hidden and unknown interest in investigative journalism. I called up Ottawa's good friends, the NCC (National Capital Commission), to ask two questions: 1) when was this access point closed? and 2) why? The poor young girl who answered the phone on Thanksgiving Sunday afternoon clearly had no idea what I was talking about and told me about the temporary Greenbelt closures easily found on the website. I thanked her, and she told me to call the NCC corporate office on Tuesday to find out more.
I diligently did so, only to find that my poking around had already made it to the head of the Greenbelt, whom I was transferred to when I called. I reiterated my questions, and this time got an answer. The access was closed in September of 2006 in response to "off-hours access and illegal activity" that Living Waters brought to NCC's attention. As Lessee's of the land leading to the access point, Living Waters clearly had some weight to throw around in dictating NCC policies. When I asked whether or not any legal challenges were threatened if NCC did not act, the spokesperson became defensive arguing that "We responded to the demands because they were reasonable. Other community members raised questions and when we told them this they agreed with our decision" ... I was almost waiting for him to say "now why won't you?". Of course, I wasn't arguing against the decision on the phone, knowing just what good that would bring, but I could clearly sense some tension around this decision. So I left it at that, hung up, and started writing this entry.
Really, the quibble over the actual access itself is a moot point. Unless you have young children, or are afraid of cars speeding by you at 90km/h as you walk alongside the road, the 300m hike to the next entry point is not the end of the world (though the safety concern does indeed loom for parents with young children, or dogs). Rather my point of contention is over the espoused values and rhetoric of religious institutions in general, and specifically Living Waters, that are clearly out of sync with their daily practices. I quibble with the fact that this access point has been open at least (but more likely longer) for the past 20 years, with no complaints from the previous church tenant (maybe Anglican?), but has suddenly closed within two years of the new lessee taking up tenancy. I have a problem when the access of the majority is restricted due to the minority imposition of private proprietorship.
Are kids going and drinking in this forest after hours? Yes, of course. Many spots in that forest are hallowed grounds for the rites of passage of local youths who have been using it for at least 20 years. Will closing off that particular access point stop them from doing so? No, closing ALL access points will not stop them, and beyond recognizing that criminalizing major aspects of youth culture is both futile and regressive, and working to understand why this culture manifests itself in our society, there is not a whole lot about underage drinking that we can do. Religious institutions that preach community, love, respect and encourage diversity would do well to implement their rhetoric in practice, instead of engaging in xenophobia and religious jingoism while slowly pinching pennies from the in-group.
The main issue is that, in preaching to profess the words of Jesus (what happened to 'Love thy Neighbor' and 'Do Unto Others'?), Living Waters is actually engaging in belligerently antisocial and certainly anti-neighborly behavior. Even if these "off-hour" visitors were leaving beer bottles in their parking lot, does it make sense to barricade the property, mistakenly believing you can keep the infidels away from your flock? Wouldn't it be better to start a constructive dialogue with the community and invite local kids to alternative events on church property? Even a sign that says, 'please do not litter' might go a long way in reaching the eco-consciousness of suburban kids. In any event, there is no evidence that these people were doing anything of the sort anyway.
It is a tragedy for the commons, for the community, when the civic tone is changed for little purpose other than to assert private property rights and paranoid isolationism. If good communities are about trust, as Robert Putnam roughly argues, then this particular "assembly" is like the thief in the night. True, we may only lose a small amount in tangible terms - 300m along a barren road is not the worst inconvenience one could suffer, especially in light of the NCC's general plan to plow over the Greenbelt in favor of suburban housing - but the long term loss in active "community", in opportunities for relationships, dialogue, friendliness etc., will trickle down for years to come.
Let me say from the outset that I have no particular vendetta with any religious organization, except a general disdain for the hypocrisy of rhetoric and reality that the vast majority of these institutions perpetrate. I would like to say that evangelical groups do not make this list, led defiantly in the west by the Catholic Church, but unfortunately, those that I have observed are certainly card-carrying instigators of social oppression. In retrospect, my mistake was prejudging Living Waters, a faith I had hitherto heard nothing about, for rabid antisocial and exclusionary behavior. Nevertheless, I was certainly not incorrect in my rash presuppositions, and what follows is an account and analysis of a tragedy for the commons.
So, after finishing my walk via an access located 300m or so down Slack Road (which, repaved and speed limit increased, is living up to its earlier drag strip title - this safety reference just a nod to all those affronted by any deviation from legal orthodoxy), I returned home and decided I would finally follow through on some long-hidden and unknown interest in investigative journalism. I called up Ottawa's good friends, the NCC (National Capital Commission), to ask two questions: 1) when was this access point closed? and 2) why? The poor young girl who answered the phone on Thanksgiving Sunday afternoon clearly had no idea what I was talking about and told me about the temporary Greenbelt closures easily found on the website. I thanked her, and she told me to call the NCC corporate office on Tuesday to find out more.
I diligently did so, only to find that my poking around had already made it to the head of the Greenbelt, whom I was transferred to when I called. I reiterated my questions, and this time got an answer. The access was closed in September of 2006 in response to "off-hours access and illegal activity" that Living Waters brought to NCC's attention. As Lessee's of the land leading to the access point, Living Waters clearly had some weight to throw around in dictating NCC policies. When I asked whether or not any legal challenges were threatened if NCC did not act, the spokesperson became defensive arguing that "We responded to the demands because they were reasonable. Other community members raised questions and when we told them this they agreed with our decision" ... I was almost waiting for him to say "now why won't you?". Of course, I wasn't arguing against the decision on the phone, knowing just what good that would bring, but I could clearly sense some tension around this decision. So I left it at that, hung up, and started writing this entry.
Really, the quibble over the actual access itself is a moot point. Unless you have young children, or are afraid of cars speeding by you at 90km/h as you walk alongside the road, the 300m hike to the next entry point is not the end of the world (though the safety concern does indeed loom for parents with young children, or dogs). Rather my point of contention is over the espoused values and rhetoric of religious institutions in general, and specifically Living Waters, that are clearly out of sync with their daily practices. I quibble with the fact that this access point has been open at least (but more likely longer) for the past 20 years, with no complaints from the previous church tenant (maybe Anglican?), but has suddenly closed within two years of the new lessee taking up tenancy. I have a problem when the access of the majority is restricted due to the minority imposition of private proprietorship.
Are kids going and drinking in this forest after hours? Yes, of course. Many spots in that forest are hallowed grounds for the rites of passage of local youths who have been using it for at least 20 years. Will closing off that particular access point stop them from doing so? No, closing ALL access points will not stop them, and beyond recognizing that criminalizing major aspects of youth culture is both futile and regressive, and working to understand why this culture manifests itself in our society, there is not a whole lot about underage drinking that we can do. Religious institutions that preach community, love, respect and encourage diversity would do well to implement their rhetoric in practice, instead of engaging in xenophobia and religious jingoism while slowly pinching pennies from the in-group.
The main issue is that, in preaching to profess the words of Jesus (what happened to 'Love thy Neighbor' and 'Do Unto Others'?), Living Waters is actually engaging in belligerently antisocial and certainly anti-neighborly behavior. Even if these "off-hour" visitors were leaving beer bottles in their parking lot, does it make sense to barricade the property, mistakenly believing you can keep the infidels away from your flock? Wouldn't it be better to start a constructive dialogue with the community and invite local kids to alternative events on church property? Even a sign that says, 'please do not litter' might go a long way in reaching the eco-consciousness of suburban kids. In any event, there is no evidence that these people were doing anything of the sort anyway.
It is a tragedy for the commons, for the community, when the civic tone is changed for little purpose other than to assert private property rights and paranoid isolationism. If good communities are about trust, as Robert Putnam roughly argues, then this particular "assembly" is like the thief in the night. True, we may only lose a small amount in tangible terms - 300m along a barren road is not the worst inconvenience one could suffer, especially in light of the NCC's general plan to plow over the Greenbelt in favor of suburban housing - but the long term loss in active "community", in opportunities for relationships, dialogue, friendliness etc., will trickle down for years to come.
Friday, October 5, 2007
Nothing Like a Good Oxford-Style Debate
The Economist is launching a new gimmick set to start mid-October that asks participants to "take part in a severest contest between intelligence, which presses forward, and an unworthy, timid ignorance obstructing our progress"- a debate, Oxford style.
Besides the obvious cultural bias built-in to the debate structure that favor any aversed in the Oxford Style, the English language, and Anglo-American society, there is a more sinister and clearly deliberate agenda being perpetuated by the Economist in this 'debate'.
The Economist allows web users to 'vote' on the proposition to be debated. This first round is about education, and the 'audience' has five positions to choose from. The phrasing of these propositions uses positive language in favor of the value assumptions of the Economist (namely free markets, competition, deregulation and the marketization of government, to name a few), which is likely to implant the 'correctness' of these positions in people's mind (not that most Economist readers need much convincing). As an example, one proposition states "This house believes that the 'digital divide' is a secondary problem in the educational needs of developing countries" - the authoritative language does not leave much room for debate.
Secondly, team debating has been done away with, and in its place two individuals will square off. What is especially interesting is that the Economist decides who will be debating, chosen from a panel of 'experts', and they will only release these names once the proposition has been chosen. Effectively, and likely, the Economist can mismatch the competition so that the proposition they support comes out on top. The audience is allowed to participate, but only secretively, and comments or questions will be screened by the moderator. These veto points simply turn the debate into a spectacle of capitalist power excercise through the assertion of Economist-friendly values.
In an age where 'full' democracy supposedly reigns, the Economist could open up the discussion to the general public at extremely low-cost. But they insist on staying true to their nineteenth century roots: the advancement of the capitalist project at all costs by continuing to hide behind prejudiced notions of 'intelligence' and 'ignorance'. Almost certainly, those who do not conform to the Economist's format - arguing for or against a proposition using a specific brand of western rationality enveloped in neoclassical economic theory - will be termed 'unworthy'. Pure intellectual theatre may certainly entertain an uncritical middle class, but it is hardly a debate in the real sense of the word.
So, in spite of the history of the Economist and everything it has stood for "journalistically" since its inception to the public discourse, I propose (somewhat laughably) that they use their vast resources to hold a true debate, one not confined to the "spirit of the Oxford" style, which really means controlling the limits of discussion within the narrow realm of 'acceptability'. In a society supposedly promoting 'liberalism', capitalist technocracy continually stands tall as a dominant ideal. If liberalism is truly an ideal, and not just rhetoic, the Economist should open this debate up to anyone and everyone who has an interest in contributing. The problem is, they might not be able to handle the results.
Besides the obvious cultural bias built-in to the debate structure that favor any aversed in the Oxford Style, the English language, and Anglo-American society, there is a more sinister and clearly deliberate agenda being perpetuated by the Economist in this 'debate'.
The Economist allows web users to 'vote' on the proposition to be debated. This first round is about education, and the 'audience' has five positions to choose from. The phrasing of these propositions uses positive language in favor of the value assumptions of the Economist (namely free markets, competition, deregulation and the marketization of government, to name a few), which is likely to implant the 'correctness' of these positions in people's mind (not that most Economist readers need much convincing). As an example, one proposition states "This house believes that the 'digital divide' is a secondary problem in the educational needs of developing countries" - the authoritative language does not leave much room for debate.
Secondly, team debating has been done away with, and in its place two individuals will square off. What is especially interesting is that the Economist decides who will be debating, chosen from a panel of 'experts', and they will only release these names once the proposition has been chosen. Effectively, and likely, the Economist can mismatch the competition so that the proposition they support comes out on top. The audience is allowed to participate, but only secretively, and comments or questions will be screened by the moderator. These veto points simply turn the debate into a spectacle of capitalist power excercise through the assertion of Economist-friendly values.
In an age where 'full' democracy supposedly reigns, the Economist could open up the discussion to the general public at extremely low-cost. But they insist on staying true to their nineteenth century roots: the advancement of the capitalist project at all costs by continuing to hide behind prejudiced notions of 'intelligence' and 'ignorance'. Almost certainly, those who do not conform to the Economist's format - arguing for or against a proposition using a specific brand of western rationality enveloped in neoclassical economic theory - will be termed 'unworthy'. Pure intellectual theatre may certainly entertain an uncritical middle class, but it is hardly a debate in the real sense of the word.
So, in spite of the history of the Economist and everything it has stood for "journalistically" since its inception to the public discourse, I propose (somewhat laughably) that they use their vast resources to hold a true debate, one not confined to the "spirit of the Oxford" style, which really means controlling the limits of discussion within the narrow realm of 'acceptability'. In a society supposedly promoting 'liberalism', capitalist technocracy continually stands tall as a dominant ideal. If liberalism is truly an ideal, and not just rhetoic, the Economist should open this debate up to anyone and everyone who has an interest in contributing. The problem is, they might not be able to handle the results.
Monday, October 1, 2007
On the Realism of Manuel DeLanda (and Gilles Deleuze)
Manuel DeLanda has often spoke at the European Graduate School as part of the Gilles Deleuze chair he holds there. The EGS publishes many of its lectures online, and a 2007 lecture DeLanda gave there dealing with Chapter 3 of Deleuze and Guattari's A Thousand Plateaus has made its way onto Youtube (for the lecture series, visit: http://youtube.com/watch?v=zqisvKSuA70&mode=related&search=).
The subject of this lecture dealt with Deleuze's interest in the animal world, and why humans concerned only with the human world must expand the scope of their interests to the the 'natural' world in order to more fully experience the richness of life. As DeLanda notes, we must "learn from the world itself", in order to ensure that our "pride of being human" doesn't prevent the deeper experiences we have when relating with our environments. In short, we must try to be "like rocks, or like birds". While I thoroughly agree with the principle of this position - that life itself should not, and cannot be limited to the human realm, that instead we must embrace the phenomenal diversity of the human experience - my point of critique is primarily methodological.
DeLanda begins by discussing 'expressivity' as a fundamental feature of the living and nonliving world. A crystal expresses its 'crystalness' regardless of human interaction when its molecules interact with light, when its molecules rest atop soil molecules, when it transforms the path of wind by its simple presence. This is a very attractive concept, and so encompassing (some might say 'totalitarian'), that it is hard to disagree with. Indeed, I don't wish to reject the concept of expressivity, if I do think the concept is a slightly clunky replacement for materiality. However, the use of 'expressivity' to account for this phenomena in ontology does imply, to me, something essential, something independent, something immanent.
And this is precisely what DeLanda states explicitly - he and Deleuze are realists precisely because they believe in the independence, one might say the isolation, of materiality. Things come from themselves, not from something else. It is hard to disagree with this point as well. We cannot say that the bourgeois make alienation, or that the sun makes cherry blossoms flower. To 'make' this extreme claim, one would have to tread towards dangerously close determinism. However, the other extreme (though not so distanced), that every aspect of materiality is independent and individual is equally worrisome. It is not an either/or question of ontology, but rather the space in between - the interactions, the interconnectedness, the inseparability of materiality.
This must apply to the human world as well, and therefore it is more than a little problematic to talk about these separate spheres of 'animal', 'plant', 'geologic' and 'human' as differentiated worlds (and within them, countless differentiations as well). They are deeply intertwined, contingent 'spheres'. And it is here where my point of contention with DeLanda (and probably, by extension, Deleuze) lies. I can accept this differentiation of ontology as existent, but this is where the ability to say more about our world, and indeed to experience that world, ends. The next step is a question of interpretation, and this is, since we are humans, a human endeavour.
It is easy to see how, through language, our interpretation of the world is constructed. But even our experiences, constantly vetted by our socialization, (or, if you prefer, environmentalization) and by our very 'humanity', are regulated in immensely complex and interdependent, but finite ways. Now, this is not to make a case for a highly complicated determinism. Rather it is to say that human action is contingent on the confluence of ontology and epistemology at any given moment. Thus, it is impossible, as humans, to talk about understanding the (non)lived experience of a crystal without referring to the contextuality of the human (but more often much more cultural, social, political and personal) experience.
One might present the teleological argument that humanity is full of potential that we must actualize, and I am not necessarily against this position directly. Human nature, the range of all possible human experience and expression is impossibly vast and entirely out the scope of my thinkable range to provide even a brief overview of it at this given moment, let alone at all temporal points. However, this vastness and the unpredictability of history makes these kinds of claims extremely difficult. It is always easy to look at an Oak tree and hold a seed and make the link, but much harder to predict from the seed what will emerge.
The point of all this is to say that the interconnections of our atoms that relate to form our psyches, whose manifestations relate to form our society which relate to form our humanity, which is itself only a small part of an interrelationship between our ecology, and so on, preclude us of making definite statements on the veracity of independent reality. What we are ultimately making statements about is our interpretation of this reality.
Thus, when DeLanda says "we must be more like a rock, or more like a bird", what he is really saying is "we must be more like our personal and social human interpretation of the expressivity of 'rockness'". This might be a moot point to some, but it is a debate that is laden with power. The knowledge that we create when we express our experiences affects us in very real ways but it can only ever explain the power relations that actually “do” the shaping of our realities, since it is a product of these relations themselves. Simply, there may be a “truth” existing in the world, an absolute form of 'rockness' independent of individual or social subjectivity – that is, traditionally ‘objective’ – but it is unimportant, since we can never know it because our understanding of it will always be mediated by our surroundings.
The subject of this lecture dealt with Deleuze's interest in the animal world, and why humans concerned only with the human world must expand the scope of their interests to the the 'natural' world in order to more fully experience the richness of life. As DeLanda notes, we must "learn from the world itself", in order to ensure that our "pride of being human" doesn't prevent the deeper experiences we have when relating with our environments. In short, we must try to be "like rocks, or like birds". While I thoroughly agree with the principle of this position - that life itself should not, and cannot be limited to the human realm, that instead we must embrace the phenomenal diversity of the human experience - my point of critique is primarily methodological.
DeLanda begins by discussing 'expressivity' as a fundamental feature of the living and nonliving world. A crystal expresses its 'crystalness' regardless of human interaction when its molecules interact with light, when its molecules rest atop soil molecules, when it transforms the path of wind by its simple presence. This is a very attractive concept, and so encompassing (some might say 'totalitarian'), that it is hard to disagree with. Indeed, I don't wish to reject the concept of expressivity, if I do think the concept is a slightly clunky replacement for materiality. However, the use of 'expressivity' to account for this phenomena in ontology does imply, to me, something essential, something independent, something immanent.
And this is precisely what DeLanda states explicitly - he and Deleuze are realists precisely because they believe in the independence, one might say the isolation, of materiality. Things come from themselves, not from something else. It is hard to disagree with this point as well. We cannot say that the bourgeois make alienation, or that the sun makes cherry blossoms flower. To 'make' this extreme claim, one would have to tread towards dangerously close determinism. However, the other extreme (though not so distanced), that every aspect of materiality is independent and individual is equally worrisome. It is not an either/or question of ontology, but rather the space in between - the interactions, the interconnectedness, the inseparability of materiality.
This must apply to the human world as well, and therefore it is more than a little problematic to talk about these separate spheres of 'animal', 'plant', 'geologic' and 'human' as differentiated worlds (and within them, countless differentiations as well). They are deeply intertwined, contingent 'spheres'. And it is here where my point of contention with DeLanda (and probably, by extension, Deleuze) lies. I can accept this differentiation of ontology as existent, but this is where the ability to say more about our world, and indeed to experience that world, ends. The next step is a question of interpretation, and this is, since we are humans, a human endeavour.
It is easy to see how, through language, our interpretation of the world is constructed. But even our experiences, constantly vetted by our socialization, (or, if you prefer, environmentalization) and by our very 'humanity', are regulated in immensely complex and interdependent, but finite ways. Now, this is not to make a case for a highly complicated determinism. Rather it is to say that human action is contingent on the confluence of ontology and epistemology at any given moment. Thus, it is impossible, as humans, to talk about understanding the (non)lived experience of a crystal without referring to the contextuality of the human (but more often much more cultural, social, political and personal) experience.
One might present the teleological argument that humanity is full of potential that we must actualize, and I am not necessarily against this position directly. Human nature, the range of all possible human experience and expression is impossibly vast and entirely out the scope of my thinkable range to provide even a brief overview of it at this given moment, let alone at all temporal points. However, this vastness and the unpredictability of history makes these kinds of claims extremely difficult. It is always easy to look at an Oak tree and hold a seed and make the link, but much harder to predict from the seed what will emerge.
The point of all this is to say that the interconnections of our atoms that relate to form our psyches, whose manifestations relate to form our society which relate to form our humanity, which is itself only a small part of an interrelationship between our ecology, and so on, preclude us of making definite statements on the veracity of independent reality. What we are ultimately making statements about is our interpretation of this reality.
Thus, when DeLanda says "we must be more like a rock, or more like a bird", what he is really saying is "we must be more like our personal and social human interpretation of the expressivity of 'rockness'". This might be a moot point to some, but it is a debate that is laden with power. The knowledge that we create when we express our experiences affects us in very real ways but it can only ever explain the power relations that actually “do” the shaping of our realities, since it is a product of these relations themselves. Simply, there may be a “truth” existing in the world, an absolute form of 'rockness' independent of individual or social subjectivity – that is, traditionally ‘objective’ – but it is unimportant, since we can never know it because our understanding of it will always be mediated by our surroundings.
The Social Costs of Technological Change
Here's a very brief addendum to the previous post:
The CCCE (Canadian Council of Chief Executives) released a report today calling for substantial absolute reductions in greenhouse gas emissions that must be borne by all sectors (of industry and society). Basically, they are proposing a domestic emissions trading scheme similar to Kyoto, or else a carbon tax, which should be offset by other tax reductions. Though they utilize the language of collective responsibility and of immense sacrifice, what they are really seeking to do is preserve their existing profitability and the system that they depend on, while shirking the real brunt of the changes off them as much as possible. A capped emissions trading scheme that would begin to decrease greenhouse gasses, if we are to believe the rhetoric of Canadian corporations thus far, is just not possible in the time frame that scientists deem we must act within - that is, not possible if corporations are to keep their profits and share values more or less consistent. A carbon tax would simply offer corporations the option to download the tax onto the consumer in the form of higher prices. When we couple the carbon tax with a reduction in other forms of taxation (a necessary condition for the carbon tax according to the CCCE), namely the corporate tax rate, corporations could stand to improve their profitability. The CCCE says they are not proposing a carbon tax however, since it is unlikely that A) they would actually see an equal or greater reduction in other tax forms when all is said and done, and related to this, B) The PR cost of downloading the tax onto the consumer would be immense, and some portion of it would be non-transferrable, that is, captured by the firms.
Corporations will, at their leisure, undoubtedly change their production methods and technologies to cleaner and more efficient alternatives. This is the Schumpeterian idea of 'creative destruction' that neoliberals have played up so much for the las 30+ years. The question is, and which has been the defining question of our times, is who will bear the brunt of the research costs? The CCCE makes it crystal clear that "investing in technological innovation is the best way to bring about the cleaner technologies that will reduce greenhouse gas emissions". And they point to the state-led federal and Alberta technology funds as the model for who should be doing the investing. Yet again, the distribution of the cost of progressive social change falls heavily on the individual taxpayer, while those who will gain the most from new technologies (in a financial sense) shirk almost all of the financial costs associated with it.
For the original policy report, see:
http://www.ceocouncil.ca/publications/pdf/test_14a7f87d43da18e574aa830d322a9cbe/Clean_Growth_ELI_Policy_Declaration_October_1_2007.pdf
For a CBC article summarizing the report, see:
http://www.cbc.ca/money/story/2007/10/01/climateceo.html?ref=rss
The CCCE (Canadian Council of Chief Executives) released a report today calling for substantial absolute reductions in greenhouse gas emissions that must be borne by all sectors (of industry and society). Basically, they are proposing a domestic emissions trading scheme similar to Kyoto, or else a carbon tax, which should be offset by other tax reductions. Though they utilize the language of collective responsibility and of immense sacrifice, what they are really seeking to do is preserve their existing profitability and the system that they depend on, while shirking the real brunt of the changes off them as much as possible. A capped emissions trading scheme that would begin to decrease greenhouse gasses, if we are to believe the rhetoric of Canadian corporations thus far, is just not possible in the time frame that scientists deem we must act within - that is, not possible if corporations are to keep their profits and share values more or less consistent. A carbon tax would simply offer corporations the option to download the tax onto the consumer in the form of higher prices. When we couple the carbon tax with a reduction in other forms of taxation (a necessary condition for the carbon tax according to the CCCE), namely the corporate tax rate, corporations could stand to improve their profitability. The CCCE says they are not proposing a carbon tax however, since it is unlikely that A) they would actually see an equal or greater reduction in other tax forms when all is said and done, and related to this, B) The PR cost of downloading the tax onto the consumer would be immense, and some portion of it would be non-transferrable, that is, captured by the firms.
Corporations will, at their leisure, undoubtedly change their production methods and technologies to cleaner and more efficient alternatives. This is the Schumpeterian idea of 'creative destruction' that neoliberals have played up so much for the las 30+ years. The question is, and which has been the defining question of our times, is who will bear the brunt of the research costs? The CCCE makes it crystal clear that "investing in technological innovation is the best way to bring about the cleaner technologies that will reduce greenhouse gas emissions". And they point to the state-led federal and Alberta technology funds as the model for who should be doing the investing. Yet again, the distribution of the cost of progressive social change falls heavily on the individual taxpayer, while those who will gain the most from new technologies (in a financial sense) shirk almost all of the financial costs associated with it.
For the original policy report, see:
http://www.ceocouncil.ca/publications/pdf/test_14a7f87d43da18e574aa830d322a9cbe/Clean_Growth_ELI_Policy_Declaration_October_1_2007.pdf
For a CBC article summarizing the report, see:
http://www.cbc.ca/money/story/2007/10/01/climateceo.html?ref=rss
Friday, September 28, 2007
What does Global Warming Threaten? A Critique of David Miliband
Just a point on a statement made by the UK's Foreign Secretary David Miliband at the United Nations the other day.
Miliband was at the UN speaking on the need for all countries to approach climate change with "common, but differentiated responsibilities", a laudable goal in and of itself. But along the way, he made a reference which seemed quite contradictory: that climate change threatens equality.
Taken at face value, this statement makes logical sense - rising water levels, drought, decreased agricultural production are likely to affect the poorest people in the poorest countries most. And in both principle and in practice, I thoroughly agree with the need to address the atrocious conditions we have created for our planet, and the people in it, therefore it's important not to take what I'm about to say out of context.
In a grand display of pomp and arrogance, Miliaband declares that "we must address the greatest longterm threat to our aspirations to tackle inequality". Given that British inequality is at a 40yr high (for a thorough study see Poverty, Wealth and Place, courtesy of the Rowntree Foundation http://www.jrf.org.uk/bookshop/eBooks/2019-poverty-wealth-place.pdf), this statement is typical New Labour Party doublespeak. The governments of most 'western' nations have had thirty years to prove they are interested in creating even a modicum of equality. Instead, they have chosen to dismantle basic welfare institutions that at least kept inequality in check in favor of flexible accumulation for only the most wealthy. To speak of a common resolve to combat global inequality, which has already increased considerably in recent years, in light of all the efforts made by these same elites to perpetuate that inequality is beyond irony - it's macabre.
When you consider that the poorest of the poor that Miliband references have never recieved the sinister fruits of global warming and pollution, in the form of even basic comforts such as running water and 24hr access to electricity, its quite ridiculous to talk about 'common' responsibility. The history of global capitalism has demonstrated just what the commitment to fighting inequality by those benefeciary nations is: handouts to the poor, so long as they remain poor (and thus dependent on low wages) at the best of times, violent repression or silent ignorance at the worst.
To top it off, the real threat brought on by global warming is not equality. Yes, some nations will be in much better positions to weather the storm brought on by drastic changes to ecosystems, rising water levels, the influx of refugees and global depression. But there is more likely to be a reduction in the security of countries, and especially on the 'developed' countries who are so dependent on fragile infrastucture networks and grids to function, if the catastrophe that is predicted does arrive in great magnitude. Rather, the real threat that global warming will cause is to the capitalist system. Any system that can cause such grave damage to an entire planet in such a relatively short amount of time (~150-200 yrs) is not viable, and must be altered (if not drastically transformed) if these catastrophic outcomes prove correct. Urging action now is a way of trying to keep the growth machine alive, with its constant reiteration of the trickle down myth - directly anathema to the hopes of any substantive equality for the worlds poorest, even if absolute poverty levels diminish slightly.
What Miliband is really saying, is that we urgently need to resolve the crisis of capitalism brought about by global warming if we, as the developed core, want to continue to reap the advantages of the inequalities inherent in the capitalist world system. Those on the periphery need to be able to keep those agricultural and manufacturing workshops open: we can't have work stoppages due to bad weather. The world must keep watching what kind of climate change plan that views "common, but differentiated responsibilities" as integral, and see what actually emerges. If the 'west' is anything like it was - and it is - the rhetoric will far outweigh the reality.
Miliband was at the UN speaking on the need for all countries to approach climate change with "common, but differentiated responsibilities", a laudable goal in and of itself. But along the way, he made a reference which seemed quite contradictory: that climate change threatens equality.
Taken at face value, this statement makes logical sense - rising water levels, drought, decreased agricultural production are likely to affect the poorest people in the poorest countries most. And in both principle and in practice, I thoroughly agree with the need to address the atrocious conditions we have created for our planet, and the people in it, therefore it's important not to take what I'm about to say out of context.
In a grand display of pomp and arrogance, Miliaband declares that "we must address the greatest longterm threat to our aspirations to tackle inequality". Given that British inequality is at a 40yr high (for a thorough study see Poverty, Wealth and Place, courtesy of the Rowntree Foundation http://www.jrf.org.uk/bookshop/eBooks/2019-poverty-wealth-place.pdf), this statement is typical New Labour Party doublespeak. The governments of most 'western' nations have had thirty years to prove they are interested in creating even a modicum of equality. Instead, they have chosen to dismantle basic welfare institutions that at least kept inequality in check in favor of flexible accumulation for only the most wealthy. To speak of a common resolve to combat global inequality, which has already increased considerably in recent years, in light of all the efforts made by these same elites to perpetuate that inequality is beyond irony - it's macabre.
When you consider that the poorest of the poor that Miliband references have never recieved the sinister fruits of global warming and pollution, in the form of even basic comforts such as running water and 24hr access to electricity, its quite ridiculous to talk about 'common' responsibility. The history of global capitalism has demonstrated just what the commitment to fighting inequality by those benefeciary nations is: handouts to the poor, so long as they remain poor (and thus dependent on low wages) at the best of times, violent repression or silent ignorance at the worst.
To top it off, the real threat brought on by global warming is not equality. Yes, some nations will be in much better positions to weather the storm brought on by drastic changes to ecosystems, rising water levels, the influx of refugees and global depression. But there is more likely to be a reduction in the security of countries, and especially on the 'developed' countries who are so dependent on fragile infrastucture networks and grids to function, if the catastrophe that is predicted does arrive in great magnitude. Rather, the real threat that global warming will cause is to the capitalist system. Any system that can cause such grave damage to an entire planet in such a relatively short amount of time (~150-200 yrs) is not viable, and must be altered (if not drastically transformed) if these catastrophic outcomes prove correct. Urging action now is a way of trying to keep the growth machine alive, with its constant reiteration of the trickle down myth - directly anathema to the hopes of any substantive equality for the worlds poorest, even if absolute poverty levels diminish slightly.
What Miliband is really saying, is that we urgently need to resolve the crisis of capitalism brought about by global warming if we, as the developed core, want to continue to reap the advantages of the inequalities inherent in the capitalist world system. Those on the periphery need to be able to keep those agricultural and manufacturing workshops open: we can't have work stoppages due to bad weather. The world must keep watching what kind of climate change plan that views "common, but differentiated responsibilities" as integral, and see what actually emerges. If the 'west' is anything like it was - and it is - the rhetoric will far outweigh the reality.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Knocked Up
I just finished watching Knocked Up and thought I would make a few critical points about the movie. After chatting with a number of people, I was told the movie was extremely funny and decided I would check it out. Besides a few jokes here and there, I didn't find it particularly hilarious, and instead was struck by the arguments the film made about marriage, childbirth, and responsibility.
The first major point of note is how the movie effectively rules out abortion as a possible solution to unwanted pregnancy. The word is never mentioned in the movie directly, and only twice in a "rhymes with" reference. This option is quickly shut down, by a 'Canadian' of all people (and likely from Vancouver of all places, the same city as the main male character) . While it is true that the Canadian equivalent to Roe v. Wade did not come until 1988, there has not been the same kind of agitation for abortion criminalization in the mainstream public discourse as has recently occurred in the US, least of all in a relatively progressive city like Vancouver, which has active pro-choice organizations that routinely advertises on public transportation. The film attempts to fabricate a cross-national consensus that abortion is not an option by choosing the Canadian to decry that possibility, and then quickly assumes that the only option is to follow through with the birth, despite other potential alternatives (e.g. adoption).
The story quickly shifts to the explicitly unlikely scenario that the expecting parents, Ben and Alison, will try to form a viable relationship (that is, not one for the sole sake of the child) despite the lack of similar values, professional paths, lifestyles, and age. In the process, a complicated, but clearly identifiable statement is made about "taking responsibility for oneself". Ben, a young, unemployed, carefree, pothead, generally uninterested in conspicuous consumption and suburban family living (at least with the little of his personal aspirations that we get to know), is slowly directed to grow up and be "responsible". What this is codeword for is falling in line with the capitalist ethos - work hard, avoid illegal indulgences, engage in conspicuous consumption and the acquisition of wealth, and more generally, submit to the dominant norms of your time.
Consistently throughout the film, Ben's 'immaturity' creates difficulties for him in his pursuit of a relationship with the future mother of his child, which he must overcome in order to be a respectable member of society, a competent father, and an appropriate husband. But all the symbolic representations of this immaturity, described above, point to a certain construction of a worker-citizen that is conducive to the general project of capital accumulation.
Second, formal relationships are held up to the highest ideal, even when they must be achieved at all costs. There is a moment as the plot develops where Alison questions this ideal - she makes the point that relationships should not have to be forced, but must be 'natural'. Yet, as they break off their fledgling relationship, things begin to go sour for each of their individual lives (cue the sad music), and they aren't happy. The only way for them to be happy is if they form a family union (with marriage ultimately in mind) and give up their single lives. This of course reinforces the social reproduction funtions of the family that capitalism requires.
There is also a debate over relationship strategies between Alison and her sister. While the former argues to accept the irksome characteristics of her partner, the latter opts to criticize her partner until he conforms to her standards. It is quite clear which strategy wins out in the end. Ben becomes the responsible person that Alison wants him to be, while her sister's husband foregoes any form of social friendship (such as a scandalour fantasy baseball pool) and conforms to the dictates of his wife: he becomes the selfless 'family man'. Together, both couples reaffirm the concept of marriage and the nuclear family, leaving little room for potential alternative relationships (not necessarily gay marriage, which could conceivably fit into this mold, but single parenthood, extended families, etc.).
Knocked Up romanticizes the stressful realities of child rearing by those in precarious financial situations, or who, at a particular point in their lives, are ill-equipped and unenthusiastic about the prospect by creating a personal conflict between the two future parents during the pregnancy whose climax and resolution occur with the childbirth. The birth of the baby automatically produces the rebirth of their relationship, and the rest is happily ever after. Many points that the movie brings up are important ones, such as the difficulties in negotiating personal and social relationships, and the need to constantly reflect on one's life. But it ultimately works to regularize coupled relationships, encourage reproduction at any cost, and attain a specific form of responsibility - all of which directly and indirectly support the capitalist system. This is not to say that coupledom, babies and responsibility are bad things in and of themselves. But given the historical prejudice of Hollywood towards a certain class and ideology, one should always think critically of the messages movies are actually giving.
The first major point of note is how the movie effectively rules out abortion as a possible solution to unwanted pregnancy. The word is never mentioned in the movie directly, and only twice in a "rhymes with" reference. This option is quickly shut down, by a 'Canadian' of all people (and likely from Vancouver of all places, the same city as the main male character) . While it is true that the Canadian equivalent to Roe v. Wade did not come until 1988, there has not been the same kind of agitation for abortion criminalization in the mainstream public discourse as has recently occurred in the US, least of all in a relatively progressive city like Vancouver, which has active pro-choice organizations that routinely advertises on public transportation. The film attempts to fabricate a cross-national consensus that abortion is not an option by choosing the Canadian to decry that possibility, and then quickly assumes that the only option is to follow through with the birth, despite other potential alternatives (e.g. adoption).
The story quickly shifts to the explicitly unlikely scenario that the expecting parents, Ben and Alison, will try to form a viable relationship (that is, not one for the sole sake of the child) despite the lack of similar values, professional paths, lifestyles, and age. In the process, a complicated, but clearly identifiable statement is made about "taking responsibility for oneself". Ben, a young, unemployed, carefree, pothead, generally uninterested in conspicuous consumption and suburban family living (at least with the little of his personal aspirations that we get to know), is slowly directed to grow up and be "responsible". What this is codeword for is falling in line with the capitalist ethos - work hard, avoid illegal indulgences, engage in conspicuous consumption and the acquisition of wealth, and more generally, submit to the dominant norms of your time.
Consistently throughout the film, Ben's 'immaturity' creates difficulties for him in his pursuit of a relationship with the future mother of his child, which he must overcome in order to be a respectable member of society, a competent father, and an appropriate husband. But all the symbolic representations of this immaturity, described above, point to a certain construction of a worker-citizen that is conducive to the general project of capital accumulation.
Second, formal relationships are held up to the highest ideal, even when they must be achieved at all costs. There is a moment as the plot develops where Alison questions this ideal - she makes the point that relationships should not have to be forced, but must be 'natural'. Yet, as they break off their fledgling relationship, things begin to go sour for each of their individual lives (cue the sad music), and they aren't happy. The only way for them to be happy is if they form a family union (with marriage ultimately in mind) and give up their single lives. This of course reinforces the social reproduction funtions of the family that capitalism requires.
There is also a debate over relationship strategies between Alison and her sister. While the former argues to accept the irksome characteristics of her partner, the latter opts to criticize her partner until he conforms to her standards. It is quite clear which strategy wins out in the end. Ben becomes the responsible person that Alison wants him to be, while her sister's husband foregoes any form of social friendship (such as a scandalour fantasy baseball pool) and conforms to the dictates of his wife: he becomes the selfless 'family man'. Together, both couples reaffirm the concept of marriage and the nuclear family, leaving little room for potential alternative relationships (not necessarily gay marriage, which could conceivably fit into this mold, but single parenthood, extended families, etc.).
Knocked Up romanticizes the stressful realities of child rearing by those in precarious financial situations, or who, at a particular point in their lives, are ill-equipped and unenthusiastic about the prospect by creating a personal conflict between the two future parents during the pregnancy whose climax and resolution occur with the childbirth. The birth of the baby automatically produces the rebirth of their relationship, and the rest is happily ever after. Many points that the movie brings up are important ones, such as the difficulties in negotiating personal and social relationships, and the need to constantly reflect on one's life. But it ultimately works to regularize coupled relationships, encourage reproduction at any cost, and attain a specific form of responsibility - all of which directly and indirectly support the capitalist system. This is not to say that coupledom, babies and responsibility are bad things in and of themselves. But given the historical prejudice of Hollywood towards a certain class and ideology, one should always think critically of the messages movies are actually giving.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Update to the Last Post
My apologies for not including the links to the articles I referenced below. Here they are:
AP article, available from CNN: http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/americas/09/17/chavez.venezuela.ap/index.html
Venezuelanalysis.com article is self-explanatory
AP article, available from CNN: http://www.cnn.com/2007/WORLD/americas/09/17/chavez.venezuela.ap/index.html
Venezuelanalysis.com article is self-explanatory
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
The Trials of Hugo Chavez
For anyone following the course of events upon which Chavez has led Venezuela for the last nine years, two things are immediately clear: the mainstream American press has sought to discredit and attack his policies from day one, and the alternative, broadly 'left', press has sought to vindicate him, and where this was not possible, provide rational justification or at least explanation for his policies. I feel it is necessary to join in this rhetorical struggle by examining two articles on the recent curriculum change in Venezuela that is being ushered in with the new school year.
An AP article covering this story immediately focuses on the least important part of the story: the 'threat' of 'nationalization' if the schools do not adhere to the curriculum. Instead, an article at venezuelanalysis.com delivers a much more informative piece detailing the real newsworthy item: that Venezuela is changing its school curriculum and what they are changing it to. To be clear, this article does not shirk the statement made by Chavez that there must be public oversight of all schools within the country, and that private schools who refuse this will be forced to shut down (with the slack being picked up by the public school system - so called 'nationalization'). Yet it does so in a way this actually informative instead of simply fear-mongering.
While the AP article claims in a trite little sentence that "Just what the new curriculum will include and how it will be applied to all Venezuelan schools and universities remains unclear", the article at Venezuelanalysis.com provides an answer. "The new Bolivarian education is based on four pillars: learn to create, learn to participate and coexist, learn to value, and learn to reflect", which would include revised readings of history that take into consideration relatively recent developments in Latin American historiography. Thus, earlier textbooks glorified 'heroic' conquistadores and portrayed the development and evolution of the Venezuelan nation from the perspective of the contemporary economic elite, conveniently silencing voices in the past who in the present might pose a problem to the tenuous official nationalism geared towards capital accumulation and special privilege. AP conveniently leaves this explantion out, instead editing Chavez only to include the apparently self-explanatory phrase "They taught us to admire Christopher Columbus and Superman", which to an Anglo-American audience with the sort of education system that Chavez is decrying will only make him sound ludicrous.
Of course, Chavez's "Bolivarian" curriculum is clearly designed to serve the interests of his own state to the detriment of his capitalist and elite competitors. No curriculum can ever claim neutrality, for such neutrality does not exist, and Chavez does not deny this. As quoted on venezuelanalysis.com, Chavez states that "we want to create our own collective, creative and diverse ideology". Still, the question of the relative value of two equally normative education systems (the Bolivarian and the capitalist ones) should be secondary to a much more fundamental question. 'Nationalization', a usual suspect on the list of dirty words used to describe Venezuelan developments, in this context merely means standardizing a publicly-developed curriculum across various tiers of education. As Chavez notes, this is something that has been a pillar of western education for nearly a hundred years (to see why, take a look at George Orwell's novel A Clergyman's Daughter!). Private schools in 'developed' countries, perhaps with a few exceptions, cannot teach 'murder and mayhem' or 'bacci ball' and expect to recieve the same accreditation as public schools. Standards are imposed by the state to, at least theoretically, suit the social context in which the recipients of education are living. Hugo Chavez simply is altering the curriculum for precisely the same reasons Americans do not restrict women to home economics and men to shop class anymore or racially segregate their public education (although I understand Southwestern Baptist Seminary, a university under different regulations than public schools, is bucking this trend with regard to the former example).
Opponents of Chavez in the media usually fall into two camps. Those who know precisely what Chavez is trying to do and are worried that his success might spread to their own countries and threaten their elite privilged position, and those completely unaware of larger historical struggles who, jumping on the bandwagon of this former camp, feed off their rhetoric. It is amazing to me how much effort and toil goes into defending this privilege, when half of that effort is probably enough to yield benefits for all but the most privileged pretty comparable to what they get today. But I guess that's just the irrationality of the capitalist logic that we in the west like to infuse into our 'rational' education system.
An AP article covering this story immediately focuses on the least important part of the story: the 'threat' of 'nationalization' if the schools do not adhere to the curriculum. Instead, an article at venezuelanalysis.com delivers a much more informative piece detailing the real newsworthy item: that Venezuela is changing its school curriculum and what they are changing it to. To be clear, this article does not shirk the statement made by Chavez that there must be public oversight of all schools within the country, and that private schools who refuse this will be forced to shut down (with the slack being picked up by the public school system - so called 'nationalization'). Yet it does so in a way this actually informative instead of simply fear-mongering.
While the AP article claims in a trite little sentence that "Just what the new curriculum will include and how it will be applied to all Venezuelan schools and universities remains unclear", the article at Venezuelanalysis.com provides an answer. "The new Bolivarian education is based on four pillars: learn to create, learn to participate and coexist, learn to value, and learn to reflect", which would include revised readings of history that take into consideration relatively recent developments in Latin American historiography. Thus, earlier textbooks glorified 'heroic' conquistadores and portrayed the development and evolution of the Venezuelan nation from the perspective of the contemporary economic elite, conveniently silencing voices in the past who in the present might pose a problem to the tenuous official nationalism geared towards capital accumulation and special privilege. AP conveniently leaves this explantion out, instead editing Chavez only to include the apparently self-explanatory phrase "They taught us to admire Christopher Columbus and Superman", which to an Anglo-American audience with the sort of education system that Chavez is decrying will only make him sound ludicrous.
Of course, Chavez's "Bolivarian" curriculum is clearly designed to serve the interests of his own state to the detriment of his capitalist and elite competitors. No curriculum can ever claim neutrality, for such neutrality does not exist, and Chavez does not deny this. As quoted on venezuelanalysis.com, Chavez states that "we want to create our own collective, creative and diverse ideology". Still, the question of the relative value of two equally normative education systems (the Bolivarian and the capitalist ones) should be secondary to a much more fundamental question. 'Nationalization', a usual suspect on the list of dirty words used to describe Venezuelan developments, in this context merely means standardizing a publicly-developed curriculum across various tiers of education. As Chavez notes, this is something that has been a pillar of western education for nearly a hundred years (to see why, take a look at George Orwell's novel A Clergyman's Daughter!). Private schools in 'developed' countries, perhaps with a few exceptions, cannot teach 'murder and mayhem' or 'bacci ball' and expect to recieve the same accreditation as public schools. Standards are imposed by the state to, at least theoretically, suit the social context in which the recipients of education are living. Hugo Chavez simply is altering the curriculum for precisely the same reasons Americans do not restrict women to home economics and men to shop class anymore or racially segregate their public education (although I understand Southwestern Baptist Seminary, a university under different regulations than public schools, is bucking this trend with regard to the former example).
Opponents of Chavez in the media usually fall into two camps. Those who know precisely what Chavez is trying to do and are worried that his success might spread to their own countries and threaten their elite privilged position, and those completely unaware of larger historical struggles who, jumping on the bandwagon of this former camp, feed off their rhetoric. It is amazing to me how much effort and toil goes into defending this privilege, when half of that effort is probably enough to yield benefits for all but the most privileged pretty comparable to what they get today. But I guess that's just the irrationality of the capitalist logic that we in the west like to infuse into our 'rational' education system.
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
The Road to Serfdom is a Good Book
There, I said it. Likely all who stop reading this post at the title, and who have done the same with Hayek's book will be appalled, and will proceed to lambast me somewhere (oh wait, I'm not that important!). But it's something that needs to be said, though perhaps not for the reasons that one usually praises a book for. Many on the left know the frustration of having certain author's taken out of context by their ideological opponents, whether it be Marx or Chomsky, two very common candidates. Hayek is an equal candidate, and like Marx, he is misunderstood and misinterpreted by both the left and the right. And especially since it is those who have championed the actual implementation of neoliberalism and claim Hayek as their ideological founder that obscure his - at least as stated - positions, and thus wrap themselves in yet another shawl of false legitimacy, it is especially frustrating. But I digress. Why then is The Road to Serfdom a good book?
Mainly, or at least from my uninformed position, because it actually presents serious challenges to the positions of socialists of varying stripes. In short, it forces one, unless they choose not to read the book or uncritically shrug Hayek's arguments off, to actually ponder and critically analyze the positions that they hold. The basic argument, that certain aspects of state planning produce the propensity towards greater power concentrations ('totalitarianism', as he puts it), though not a truism, is certainly borne out in historical practice. Thus, for proponents of national state socialism, Hayek provides the perfect springboard for critically approaching the practical dilemmas of coordination, decision-making, power distribution and adjudication. Indeed, those radical democrats who decry technocratic rulership that, at least currently, goes hand in hand with national centralization will share at least one common point with Hayek. For the growing number that views the national state with the same distrust as capital, be they liberal anarchists, social libertarians, left communitarians or any of the myriad political distinctions out there, Hayek's book is largely dated. Almost all of Hayek's arguments assume the national state, which is increasingly being contested in the scholarly community - but there is still value in reading this book as a way of further contextualizing their positions within a long strand of intellectual history.
But of course, The Road to Serfdom is not without its flaws. Hayek's use of rhetoric is conniving and distracts from his actual message, which he explicitly states is his intention. As an example, Hayek crudley equates "fascism" (which is almost never used in the book) with "socialism". This is clearly an attempt to reframe the word to include the negativity of Britain's Nazi enemies without regard to the qualitative differences between the two terms. It would be like claiming that 'anarchism', in the pejorative sense, is liberalism, in the Hayekian sense. Chapter 12 seeks to trace "The Socialist Roots of Naziism", an endeavor with about as much validity as tracing the roots of British slavery to the rediscovery of Aristotle during the Renaissance. These two factors are clearly correlated, and indeed, many proponents of slavery did rely on the classic texts, but they are clearly not causally linked in any rigorous way. Hayek's spuriousness and imprecision in making this argument leaves him open to ridicule, such as that German democracy sprang from Naziism - after all, Hayek says himself that the Nazi's viewed themselves as practicing the 'true democracy'.
But for me at least, these flaws are balanced by the intellectual honesty that Hayek displays in the first paragraph of the preface to his original book. He states, "This is a political book.[...] But, whatever the name, the essential point remains that all I shall have to say is derived from certain ultimate values. I hope I have adequately discharged in the book itself a second and no less important duty: to make it clear beyond doubt what these ultimate values are and on which the whole argument depends" (xlv, 1994 ed.). We may, and should, criticize those "ultimate" values for being utopian, selfish, insufficient, inefficient and irrational, almost all of which Hayek has a counter-argument for that will spark important debates, but we must also commend him for not hiding behind "scientific fact" or determinism, and (not entirely) relying on reductive and static conceptions of human nature, unlike his future 'disciples'.
For me, the most fundamental fallacy Hayek makes is to equate the decentralization of power in society with the automatic propensity for competition (214). We have the historical 'advantage' of living through what Peck and Tickell call 'roll-out neoliberalism', where Schumpeterian creative destruction reigns free (ironically still carefully regulated of course), and can see that competition is only a classificatory means of changing who will hold power, rather than a progressive end, or even a sustainable process. Those who have subverted Hayek's proscriptions in chapter 14, those unlucky recipients of neoliberal policy, have only redecorated for a new era of monopoly capitalism.
Avoiding The Road to Serfdom is an easy thing to do, if we choose to hole away in hospitable intellectual enclaves, but we do so at our peril, while those who manipulate Hayek's ideas work to advance the interests of those whom he condemns (namely monopoloy capitalists, or just about all of them!). And for those who think that reading this book is unnecessary due to its antiquated publication date, it's not, at least not to the uninitiated like myself. Just as Karl Polanyi's The Great Transformation has garnered so much attention in recent years (an absolutely perfect complement and critique to Hayek, written in the same year by yet another Austrian - perhaps the subject of another post), The Road to Serfdom is still highly relevant for those engaged in the critique of contemporary North American society. I encourage everyone who is interested in the values underpinning socialism, and critical thought, to actually read this book - it will make criticizing Thatcher and Reagan a little easier!
Mainly, or at least from my uninformed position, because it actually presents serious challenges to the positions of socialists of varying stripes. In short, it forces one, unless they choose not to read the book or uncritically shrug Hayek's arguments off, to actually ponder and critically analyze the positions that they hold. The basic argument, that certain aspects of state planning produce the propensity towards greater power concentrations ('totalitarianism', as he puts it), though not a truism, is certainly borne out in historical practice. Thus, for proponents of national state socialism, Hayek provides the perfect springboard for critically approaching the practical dilemmas of coordination, decision-making, power distribution and adjudication. Indeed, those radical democrats who decry technocratic rulership that, at least currently, goes hand in hand with national centralization will share at least one common point with Hayek. For the growing number that views the national state with the same distrust as capital, be they liberal anarchists, social libertarians, left communitarians or any of the myriad political distinctions out there, Hayek's book is largely dated. Almost all of Hayek's arguments assume the national state, which is increasingly being contested in the scholarly community - but there is still value in reading this book as a way of further contextualizing their positions within a long strand of intellectual history.
But of course, The Road to Serfdom is not without its flaws. Hayek's use of rhetoric is conniving and distracts from his actual message, which he explicitly states is his intention. As an example, Hayek crudley equates "fascism" (which is almost never used in the book) with "socialism". This is clearly an attempt to reframe the word to include the negativity of Britain's Nazi enemies without regard to the qualitative differences between the two terms. It would be like claiming that 'anarchism', in the pejorative sense, is liberalism, in the Hayekian sense. Chapter 12 seeks to trace "The Socialist Roots of Naziism", an endeavor with about as much validity as tracing the roots of British slavery to the rediscovery of Aristotle during the Renaissance. These two factors are clearly correlated, and indeed, many proponents of slavery did rely on the classic texts, but they are clearly not causally linked in any rigorous way. Hayek's spuriousness and imprecision in making this argument leaves him open to ridicule, such as that German democracy sprang from Naziism - after all, Hayek says himself that the Nazi's viewed themselves as practicing the 'true democracy'.
But for me at least, these flaws are balanced by the intellectual honesty that Hayek displays in the first paragraph of the preface to his original book. He states, "This is a political book.[...] But, whatever the name, the essential point remains that all I shall have to say is derived from certain ultimate values. I hope I have adequately discharged in the book itself a second and no less important duty: to make it clear beyond doubt what these ultimate values are and on which the whole argument depends" (xlv, 1994 ed.). We may, and should, criticize those "ultimate" values for being utopian, selfish, insufficient, inefficient and irrational, almost all of which Hayek has a counter-argument for that will spark important debates, but we must also commend him for not hiding behind "scientific fact" or determinism, and (not entirely) relying on reductive and static conceptions of human nature, unlike his future 'disciples'.
For me, the most fundamental fallacy Hayek makes is to equate the decentralization of power in society with the automatic propensity for competition (214). We have the historical 'advantage' of living through what Peck and Tickell call 'roll-out neoliberalism', where Schumpeterian creative destruction reigns free (ironically still carefully regulated of course), and can see that competition is only a classificatory means of changing who will hold power, rather than a progressive end, or even a sustainable process. Those who have subverted Hayek's proscriptions in chapter 14, those unlucky recipients of neoliberal policy, have only redecorated for a new era of monopoly capitalism.
Avoiding The Road to Serfdom is an easy thing to do, if we choose to hole away in hospitable intellectual enclaves, but we do so at our peril, while those who manipulate Hayek's ideas work to advance the interests of those whom he condemns (namely monopoloy capitalists, or just about all of them!). And for those who think that reading this book is unnecessary due to its antiquated publication date, it's not, at least not to the uninitiated like myself. Just as Karl Polanyi's The Great Transformation has garnered so much attention in recent years (an absolutely perfect complement and critique to Hayek, written in the same year by yet another Austrian - perhaps the subject of another post), The Road to Serfdom is still highly relevant for those engaged in the critique of contemporary North American society. I encourage everyone who is interested in the values underpinning socialism, and critical thought, to actually read this book - it will make criticizing Thatcher and Reagan a little easier!
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