Review of Wendy Brown, In
the Ruins of Neoliberalism (Columbia University Press, 2019).
Right-wing neoliberalism’s
assault on the very idea of society laid the groundwork for today’s right-wing
nationalist backlash. But the Left’s hands aren’t entirely clean either.
In the heated year of 1968,
the Chicago economist and Nobel Prize winner George J. Stigler jotted down some
thoughts on how to introduce the “price system” into the process of democracy.
Stigler had been one of Milton Friedman’s closest friends and part of his
neoliberal “thought collective” since its inception. Both men participated in
the first meeting of the Mont Pèlerin society in 1947, one of the founding
events of the neoliberal movement. In the following decades, the two Chicago
economists made vital contributions to what, according to Wendy Brown, became
the overriding objective of the worldwide neoliberal agenda:
“the economization of all features of life,” a project that sought to
substitute the price system for more political forms of collective
decision-making.
Stigler proposed a particular
mode for this “economization.” He had already previously provided cost/benefit
models to, for example, probe the “optimal” rate of car accidents or to ask if
it would be more optimal to bomb Japan “continuously” or “discontinuously” in
war time. From that point of view, shouldn’t we also view democracy itself as
having a “cost” and needing to be run in the most efficient way? The cost of
periodic elections, Stigler thought, was generally too high and “distracting”
with all its “unnecessary campaigns.” Unlike in a private company, the terms of
employment for elected officials were limited in time. “The costs of ‘rehiring’
elected officeholders,” he argued, were excessive and superfluous as long as
voters were satisfied with their elected officials. Perhaps surprisingly, the
“abandonment of periodic elections” became for Stigler a more rational way of
organizing political representation, bringing it into closer alignment with
“orderly economic life.” It was always “costly to discover, examine, and train
a new worker, and the worker finds it costly to discover, explore, and move to
a new job,” he followed. Why not, as in the private sector, “adopt the rule of
indefinite tenure?” With a presidential term understood as a simple employment
contract, a president could then stay in power as long as his employers — read,
citizens — want him there. Voters, Stigler proposed, could call an election by
means of a petition requiring one-tenth of the electorate to sign on. In
today’s demographic terms, this would represent more than 20 million voters.
Furthermore, to avoid an
excess of elections (“excessive” democracy could easily degenerate into
totalitarianism), Stigler added that “the petitioners for a new election would
pay its costs to the state.” This “introduction of the price system” into the
democratic process would allow for it to “become responsive to the desires of
the electorate and the costs of elections.” Implementing such a system would,
of course, imply a very strict containment of politics and democracy, making
even elections difficult to organize; considering the “cost” of an election,
only the wealthy or corporations would then have the resources to contest
elected officials. “Politics” in the classical sense would thus be, to take
Hayek’s expression, “dethroned,” making the vast majority of citizens unable to
shape the social order collectively.
Following on her earlier study
of neoliberalism (Undoing the Demos, 2015) political theorist Wendy Brown’s
newest book, In the Ruins of Neoliberalism, focuses on this neoliberal
effort to dismantle the political and the social and how that project has laid
the groundwork for the rise of antidemocratic politics in the West.
Neoliberalism’s Frankenstein
Alot has happened in between
those two volumes, however. History, as Marx once wrote, never follows a linear
evolution, but is always made of downturns and accelerations. For a political
theorist, the four years that separate these two studies look more like a
century. Trump and Brexit alone
constitute two of the most remarkable evolutions in contemporary politics since
neoliberalism’s political triumph. In the light of these developments, Brown
tries to understand how what she calls “neoliberal rationality” prepared the
ground for these “antidemocratic forces” to rise. Going “beyond” and even
“revising” some of her earlier arguments, she takes a closer look at how the
“neoliberal mode of reason” generated something that is indeed “radically
different from the neoliberal utopia of an inegalitarian liberal order in which
individual and families would be politically pacified by markets.” Brown tries
to explain how, while central proponents of neoliberalism themselves probably
did not envision or aim at our political and economic present, their ideas and
reforms worked as an excellent “fertilizer” to nurture it. Trump, whose rule
appeals to nihilism, fatalism, and resentment, and relies on an antidemocratic
alliance between “business and moral-religious traditionalists,” is thus not to
be understood as neoliberalism’s intended creation but its “Frankenstein.”
Relying partly on Melinda
Cooper’s brilliant study of the neoliberal-social conservative
alliance, Family Values, Brown shows how in Hayek’s work, morals, and
markets constitute, together, the foundations for freedom, both being
“organized spontaneously and transmitted through tradition, rather than political
power.” The decentralized and impersonal signals of the
market replace collective political deliberation, and traditional
morals constitute an appropriate substitute for “society” conceived as
organized common pursuit. Both are “spontaneous orders” rather than “designed”
purposes that would put us on the slippery slope of “unlimited democracy.” In
neoliberalism, morals function as a useful alternative to the social and the
political by deflecting challenges to traditional inequalities and hierarchies
that could distort the proper functioning of markets.
Brown admits that her initial
focus on the drive to economization failed to address how neoliberalism’s
violent charge against the very notion of “society” or “politics” has reshaped
our societies. “Dismantling society” and “dethroning politics” constitute in
this framework the two central components of the “moral-political” project that
opened the path to what Brown calls the “return of the repressed.” By using
markets and morals to erase the very notions of popular sovereignty, the
social, and social justice, neoliberalism provoked the rise of an “enraged”
form of majority rule, characterized by far-right nationalism and religious
fundamentalism, freed from any form of civil norms, and fueled by resentment.
Trump is thus not caused by neoliberalism, but was produced in the
“ruins” of it. Out of its remains erupted these ferocious “social and political
forces that the neoliberals once opposed, underestimated, and deformed with
their de-democratizing project.”
Brown’s stimulating account
nevertheless suffers from her focus on the conservative bent neoliberalism took
in the eighties, underestimating the Left’s contribution to the acceptance,
development, and spread of neoliberalism. While she occasionally seems to
acknowledge that the notion of “the social” and a certain conception of
political deliberation vanished from the Left as well during that period, this
theme plays a marginal role in her story. And yet we know from Daniel
Rodgers’s intellectual history of the late twentieth century how the
Left contributed to a shift in American thought in which traditional ideas of
collective concerns and institutions were unhinged and replaced by a more
fractured and individualized way of thinking about society that emphasized
choice, agency, and performance, and came to rely on the metaphor of the
market. Nancy
Fraser has likewise pointed to the disappearance of New Deal–style
social democracy and its replacement by a “progressive neoliberalism” that
specifically “hollowed out working-class and middle-class living standards”
while promoting, at the same time, the “mainstream currents of new social
movements (feminism, anti-racism, multiculturalism, and LGBTQ rights) on the
one side, and high-end ‘symbolic’ and service-based business sectors (Wall
Street, Silicon Valley, and Hollywood), on the other.” This convergence between
left and right unfolded on a number of terrains of political thought and
practice that are all ignored in In the Ruins of Neoliberalism.
The Consumer Trumps the
Citizen
Part of the problem in Brown’s
account is her restrictive understanding of how neoliberalism understood its
relation to “popular sovereignty.” In her account it seems essentially a
conservative project. But she fails to recognize that it encompassed an
alternative vision of the good society that could easily be appropriated into a
progressive outlook. Most importantly, the neoliberal attempt to curtail
traditional notions of democracy went hand in hand with the invention of a new,
positively framed, and supposedly superior notion of “market democracy” that
drew on the idea of consumer sovereignty. By drawing a direct parallel between
choice in the marketplace and at the ballot box, neoliberals portrayed sovereign
consumers’ daily “voting” on the marketplace as a superior solution to securing
the representation and participation in sociopolitical processes for the
individual citizen. This is a solution that supposedly allows for individual
choice unbound by the will of the majority and seeks to limit and ultimately
replace traditional institutions of political democracy with those promoting
the dynamics of market capitalism. In the words of Milton Friedman:
When you vote daily in the
supermarket, you get precisely what you voted for, and so does everyone else.
The ballot box produces conformity without unanimity; the marketplace,
unanimity without conformity. That is why it is desirable to use the ballot
box, so far as possible, only for those decisions where conformity is
essential.
Alongside other notions
appealing to personal freedom (think the “entrepreneur of the self”), consumer
sovereignty provided neoliberalism with popular appeal and legitimacy. Central
here was of course the idea that the good society is to be created through
market mechanisms rather than through the traditional institutions and
mechanisms of the welfare state.
Today, this idea is arguably
widespread on the Left, too — not only because the Left failed to develop an
alternative to neoliberalism, but also because it actively embraced and helped
disseminate neoliberalism’s “progressive ideas,” such as applying consumer
sovereignty to various societal contexts.
In the discipline of economics
in the postwar era, leftist and centrist scholars such as Kenneth Arrow and
Anthony Downs contributed just as much as Milton Friedman and George Stigler to
the new trends of elevating consumer sovereignty into the only norm according
to which societal well-being can be measured, reworking the ideal of traditional
political democracy by interpreting it through market metaphors, and
challenging the role of the state as a collective decision-maker and social
planner.
In politics, center-left
parties in the 1990s not only followed in the footsteps of their neoliberal
predecessors by privatizing state-owned companies to further individual choice,
but went a step further by reforming the public sector itself, modeling it
after the market in portraying the citizen as its “customer,” thus recasting
political democracy as a mechanism of choosing between available products or
goods.
In the realm of cultural
critique, it was intellectuals from across the political spectrum including Tom
Wolfe, Marshall McLuhan, Jürgen Habermas, and Roland Barthes who in the 1960s
broke with a long tradition of worrying about the deleterious effects of mass
consumption and began to view the dynamics of the market in a more positive
light, emphasizing the elements of pleasure, play, and symbolic exchange as the
essence of a vibrant and potentially liberating and individualizing consumer
culture.
Marketizing Equality
Another result of the Left’s
embrace of market thinking has been a notable marketization of equality.
Indeed, the sanctity of the price mechanism for neoliberals was not, as Brown
suggests, anti-egalitarian per se; indeed, it would gradually find many
proponents within the Left. Against a vision in which social institutions and
political deliberation would be placed at the core of the idea of equality,
through the socialization of wealth and generous public services or social
security, a new perspective arose, centered on ways to redistribute wealth
while preserving the price system as the central tool for allocating resources
in society. By the mid-fifties, as
historian Peter Sloman has argued for the British context, something
that could be called “redistributive market liberalism” slowly displaced
approaches to social justice focused on “wage bargaining, contributory
insurance, and social services” in favor of a vision in which “poverty and
inequality are best alleviated through income transfers rather than through
direct intervention in labour and product markets.” A new generation of
economists, including people like Anthony Atkinson, who basically created the
field of inequality in economics, would come to see public-service based social
policies as less efficient ways to tackle poverty than direct transfer
payments.
Contrary to what Brown
suggests, Friedman himself wasn’t at first hostile to equality. His main
criticism until the late fifties did not concern the fact of redistribution per
se, but the tools used to reach it. He admitted to having “strong
egalitarian leanings,” but thought that “the major fault of the collectivist
philosophy” “is not in its objectives” but rather “in the means.” “Failures to
recognize the difficulty of the economic problem of efficiency” he continued,
“led to readiness to discard the price system without an adequate substitute
and to a belief that it would be easy to do much better by a central plan.”
This displacement was not just
a technical matter, however. The shift from one vision to the other entailed
not only a change in the understanding of equality but also in the importance
attached to politics in shaping the social order. While social institutions and
public services are submitted to public deliberation and represent a way for
society to collectively shape its own destiny, reducing social policy to cash
transfers “hollows out” equality from any kind of collective deliberation. It
preserves equality as a moral horizon but restricts it as a political space.
This shift was obviously part of the Third Way’s program of “progressive
neoliberalism” in the 1990s. Blairites were to a certain extent concerned with
redistribution — though generally limited to poverty-reduction rather than
a broader attack on inequality — while at the same time promoting the expansion
of markets at the global level and introducing New Public Management–inspired
public sector reform in a domestic setting. Both were enacted in the name of
consumer sovereignty, alongside promises of individual freedom and autonomy.
As Brown correctly remarks,
part of this success is probably due to how neoliberalism was able to radically
limit our conception of normativity and coercion. In the postwar period,
economists were extremely effective in popularizing the idea (first invented in
the 1930s by neoliberal economist Lionel Robbins) of economics as a
“value-free” science that should only inform us on the choices we have rather
than “normatively” deciding for us. Economics had to distance itself from any
notion of the “good life” or moral philosophy, any shared Aristotelian telos.
Coercion and normativity in this setup is then essentially a problem of any
policy that tries to define collective norms or institutions aiming at
implementing things such as “social rights.” The role of economics would then
essentially be, as Friedman put it, maximizing the “effective freedom” —
understand “choice” — “of individuals.” While this redefinition became an
excellent opportunity for the conservative right to, as Brown suggests, “[cast]
principles (and law based on them) of equality and inclusion as tyrannical
political correctness”, it had also its effect on the Left — whether in the
Third Way’s embrace of “equal opportunity” against “equality of conditions” or,
in the realm of social and political theory, visible in the anti-statist turn
taken by the New Left in the late 1960s.
The Anti-Statist Left
In Hayek’s “dethronement of
politics,” scholars like Michel Foucault, Pierre Clastres, Antonio Negri or,
more recently, James C. Scott seemed to have found a way to “cut off the head
of the king.” Highly critical of the “old left,” of the “labor centered”
defense of full employment, social security “biopolitics,” or the
state-centered conception of social change, this intellectual left would find elective
affinities with the decentralized and impersonal signals of the market as an
alternative way to think about power and resistance. In the search for
alternative ways of conceptualizing social change outside the sovereign model —
meaning outside majority rule and the conquest of state power — they sometimes
saw, along with neoliberals, the state as the primary, or worst, kind of
coercion.
If in the early twenties, the
lawyer and economist Robert Lee Hale had legitimated the New Deal by
arguing that coercion was a constitutive part of economic life under
capitalism, not limited to purposeful, deliberate action by an institution, by
the seventies several social theorists within the Left would be unable to
provide a theory of coercion that also addressed the workings of the market. We
can find an illuminating portrait of how social security institutions shape our
relation to ourselves in Foucault, and of how “seeing like a state” leads to
mass standardization in Scott. But none of these authors were able to make us
think substantively about how coercion and normalization are not just the
products of centralized institutions and do not simply disappear when those
institutions do. In fact, they implicitly shaped an intellectual framework in
which the market appears less as a way in which norms are imposed than as a
more effective space for subverting them.
Hadn’t Friedman himself
famously depicted the market as a genuine “system of proportional
representation” protecting the preferences of minorities through its “absence
of coercion”? In the market, “each man can vote” he argued,
“for the color of tie he wants and get it; he does not have to see what color
the majority wants and then, if he is in the minority, submit.” Producing
conformity without unanimity, the marketplace could potentially also be a less
coercive space for experiments in alternative lifestyles. This often took the
form of alternative modes of consumption, offering ways to enact “social
change” through individual and ethical choices.
Implicitly and explicitly,
part of the Left participated in spreading this false dichotomy. The postwar
welfare state was heavily normative and aimed to shape family structure around
the male breadwinner and the Fordist factory worker. But by definition, and
this is perhaps one of the key intellectual tasks for us today, all policies —
whether statist or neoliberal — are normative. If we decide to grant everyone a
basic income instead of free health care, we substitute a certain normativity
(which defines certain subjects through certain “social rights”) by another
(who makes “individual choices” in the market the priority). The market did not
lead to a less normative society, but just one where the grip of normativity
was even more unequally distributed.
The Left’s abandonment of the
project of imagining and building collective institutions devoted to creating
the good society is a crucial component of our present situation. It’s in the
void left by “progressive neoliberalism” that the Trumps of the world prosper.
In other words: If Brown is right to point to neoliberalism’s failure in
getting rid of the political and the social, she captures only half of the
picture.
No comments:
Post a Comment