What Might Have Been

MORE POLITICAL FALLOUT IN THIS HOUSE!:

Fox News has gotten aboard the post-campaign secrets train, releasing information that Palin was about as dumb as a doornail. Apparently she was not only too much of a rogue for the Maverick, but she didn't know that Africa was a continent. And she was almost Vice-President!

While it is hard to say whether the as yet anonymously sourced story will turn out to be true, it certainly seems to have made the Republicans look a little foolish. But don't think that this is a sign that the ship is going down for good, this could easily be the RNC throwing her under the bus for its own survival, or even the first play by Republican favorite Mitt Romney for the 2012 election.

In other news, after a grueling race and a two-day count, the Oregonian is now predicting Democrat Jeff Merkley will take the Oregon Senator seat from incumbent Republican Gordon Smith, edging the DNC ever closer to their super-majority. While it is unlikely that Democrats will actually attain all 60 seats, Merkley's success signals an "exponential" increase in their ability to overcome the Republican filibusters that have plagued the Democratic party ever since their takeover of Congress two years ago.

In even more local news, Republican Rick Dancer, formerly a KEZI anchor, is trailing Democrat Kate Brown by 3,000 votes, while the latest results from Lane elections show a slight lead in the Eugene mayoral race between Democratic incumbent Kitty Piercy and conservative rival Jim Torrey. That race should continue on to tomorrow, as the Lane County elections suffered a several hour delay Tuesday after a system failed and they had to restart the count on a redundant system.

And in the closest race of all, liberal Rob Handy holds a nail-biting 113 vote lead over incumbent North Eugene County Commissioner Bobby Green (a margin of .03 percent, state law mandates an automatic recount if the margin is less than .2 percent).

Final results will come in tomorrow morning, and it would not be surprising if this 13,000 vote election comes down to a margin less than the number of write-ins (currently 77), never mind the under votes (people who turned in a ballot without marking a preference in the commissioner race - 3,754).

Biden / Palin Debate

Marx, Weber and Foucault (Part Two)

I just finished working on two essays for my Modernist Political Theory class with Prof. James Ingram at the University of Oregon. This is the second half of the second essay, which explores the writings of Marx, Weber and Foucault in the critique of freedom and equality. The first half of the essay is here, while the previous essay parts can be found here and here.

So how do they all agree?

To show the point, look towards Marx’s arguments. In his most well-known work, Capital, Marx makes his case against capitalism in the name of the down-trodden proletariat injured by the elite classes. He rails against the injustices committed by the system.

“We suffer not only from the development of capitalist production, but also from the incompleteness of that development. Alongside the modern evils, we are oppressed by a whole series of inherited evils, arising from the passive survival of archaic and outmoded modes of production, with their accompanying train of anachronistic social and political relations. We suffer not only from the living, but from the dead. Le mort saisit le vif!” (Marx, 218)

However, also note that he is not arguing against the idea of democracy, the form of political government, but rather against capitalism, an economic system based upon the ideal of democratic freedom. He does not want to subvert the rule of law, but rather expects capitalism to slide naturally and democratically into socialism. And he is not arguing against freedom, per se, but rather for equality.

His revolution is a bloodless one, and supported by the people. This distinction is an important one to make, and mirrored in the critiques of the other authors, because it serves to show how similar their underlying values are.

In analyzing Weber’s The Vocation Lectures, one sees an extensive argument in favor of two things: the role of science and religion in society, and increased legitimacy of political leaders. In doing so, Weber argues for a bureaucratization of politics, as seen in science and academia, and a offers a justification for elites as often existing due to inherent qualities such as competence and charisma, though he acknowledges systemic reasons as well.

“We can hear from that beautiful song of the Edomite watchman … in the book of Isaiah. “One calleth to me out of Seir, Watchman, what of the night? what of the night? [sic] The watchman said, Even if the morning cometh [sic], it is still night: if ye inquire already, ye will come again and inquire once more.” … From it we should draw the moral that longing and waiting is not enough and that we must act differently. We must go about our work and meet “the challenges of the day” –both in our human relations and our vocation. But that moral is simple and straightforward if each person finds and obeys the daemon that holds the threads of his life.” (Weber, 31)

In the above passage, Weber cites a biblical passage to his students in order to promote his idea of science and politics as being vocational in nature. And although the end result of this line of thought allows the divide between the common and the elite, it stems from a belief in freedom and fulfillment, rather than some advocacy of inequality or injustice. The bureaucracy is engendered in order to protect individual freedoms from a demagogue or tyrant, not limit them for the benefit of the leaders. Like Marx, Weber only hopes to use democracy to give the public more freedom and equality, but he is similarly caught up in the difficult relationship between the two ideas acting in on a broad scale.

Finally, in his previously-mentioned works Discipline and Punish and The Birth of the Prison, Foucault seems to attempt to avoid the problems experienced by Marx and Weber, and he tries to limit the focus of his book to those who have historically lacked both freedom and equality: the criminal, the soldier and the student.

Foucault describes the historical relationship between the criminal and the state, and clearly contrasts the brutality of early times with the relative humanity of contemporary forms of punishment and incarceration. He uses the example of the prison Panopticon as a jumping off point to explore a system that promotes that impersonal equality and blind justice that was so lacking in prisons, but also in schools and military barracks.

“The panoptic modality of power – at the elementary, technical, merely physical level at which it is situated – is not under the immediate dependence or a direct extension of the great juridico-political structures of a society.” (Foucault, 221)

“There is no risk, therefore, that the increase of power created by the panoptic machine may degenerate into tyranny; the disciplinary mechanism will be democratically controlled, since it will be constantly accessible ‘to the great tribunal committee of the world’.” (Foucault, 207)

Once again, it can be seen that this author really is a proponent of democracy, though he spends much of his book outlining plans to close the fist of control around the society. His plan is centered around leveraging the democratic society at large in order to prevent abuses and mini-tyrannies. From this perspective, the Panopticon concept is an equalizer: it restricts everyone in the same manner, to prevent a small number from being especially molested.

Now that each author has been examined, it is clear that their opinions can be seen as complementary, even if they seem to be in tension and opposition at first glance. For though they disagree in the details, in doing so they also affirm the broad principles that govern a democracy: the sovereign will of the people, the rule of law, the importance of individual freedoms and collective equalities.

While they would likely never agree on their separate concerns with modern democracy, it is safe to say that their disagreements have nothing to do with the idea of democracy itself, but rather with its symptoms.

Marx, Weber and Foucault (Part One)

I just finished working on two essays for my Modernist Political Theory class with Prof. James Ingram at the University of Oregon. This is the first half of the second essay, which explores the writings of Marx, Weber and Foucault in the critique of freedom and equality. The previous essay parts can be found here and here.

“If these lines ever reach America, I am certain of two things: first, that all readers will raise their voice to condemn me; second, that many of them will absolve me in the depths of their conscience.”

- Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America

Prompt four: Marx, Weber, and Foucault argue that, despite its undeniable advantages, modern liberal democracy fails to deliver on its promise of freedom and equality. Compare their accounts of why this is, paying special attention to their comments on democracy and the rule of law. Do you think their accounts are complementary, or are they in tension?

Freedom and equality - two concepts most often considered by political scientists and philosophers (whether they are renowned authorities or argumentative students). They are simultaneously synonymous and dichotomous. With freedom must come equality, but promoting one often dampers the other. Modern liberal democracy promises an abundance of both, but the details often seem to get lost in the fine print. As such, it is often the target of critics who fault democracy as being unable to provide a desired level of either quality. And although few would return to the dictatorial style of government of old, there is certainly a wide range of proposals for change.

If my previous essay compared the method and aim of modern political criticism, then this essay is an examination of that criticism itself. All of the authors read for this term (Friedrich Nietzsche and all the rest) have explored democratic freedoms and equalities in their own way, and from very different perspectives. J.S. Mill and Alexis de Tocqueville write from the beginning of the 19^th century, when kings and emperors still ruled the world, while Michel Foucault wrote until the waning years of the Soviet Union. It comes to no one’s surprise that these authors take different perspectives on these considerations. But there is a common strain throughout their works: a certain admiration for the idea of democracy and the rule of law.

Karl Marx, Max Weber and Michel Foucault focus upon different aspects of Western democracy, but despite some tensions, their conclusions as to the future of that democracy are largely complementary. Though they take issue with certain parts of democracy, they, collectively and individually, affirm the principles for which it stands.

So how do a revolutionary, a scientist-bureaucrat and a disciplinarian come together to agree on a system that they spend so much time haranguing? It sounds like something of a bad joke. Marx, the well-known socialist, wants to up-end the system and institute a new order that promotes equality above all else; Weber counters this proposal by legitimating the hierarchy between the common and the elite; Foucault seems to take the mid-line between these two, by wanting everyone to be imprisoned equally.

Nietzsche v Foucault (Part Two)

Here is the follow-up to the previously posted essay written for my Political Theory class.

Now that the terms have been established, we continue to the heart of the discussion.

The titles of the authors’ works do well to describe their contents: Nietzsche’s Genealogy of Morals is relatively self-explanatory, and while Foucault’s Discipline and Punish and Birth of the Prison only tell the reader of the content of the discussion, rather than the form, his genealogy quickly becomes apparent from his historical focus and regular citation of Nietzschean language. And it is clear that along with mirroring each other’s method, the authors also share similar aims in their works: that is, to guide the reader towards a conclusion by contextualizing the debate. It is an all-encompassing style of argument, wherein the author seeks to offer the totality of societal understanding of the issue, believing that the knowledge of such will prompt the reader to hold opinions similar to the author. In this way, the aim genealogy is to provide a perspective argument where the author wins the reader by shaping their viewpoint, rather than directly changing their beliefs.

Friedrich Nietzsche, whose writings predate that of Foucault’s by some 50 years, first popularized this genealogical argument in his work. Due to this prima nature, his style is at once original and reflective of the analytical argument. At the beginning of his work he sets off with the standard mode of argument wherein you first establish the aim of the work – “We need a critique of moral values, the value of these values themselves must first be called into question.” (Nietzsche, 20) – and then conclude with a congratulatory self-pat on the back reminding the reader what the author has done.

But after doing so in the introduction, he then launches into a historical narrative which examines morality in the light of previous philosophers, the traditional struggle between the aristocrat and the plebe, and then an etymological examination of the words “good” and “bad.” It is a remarkable form of argument, which nonetheless remains persuasive at the end of the work (as the legions of youthful nihilists can attest).

“Now it is plain to me, first of all, that in this theory the source of the concept “good” has been sought and established in the wrong place: the judgment “good” did not originate with those to whom “goodness” was shown! Rather it was “the good” themselves, that is to say, the noble, powerful, high-stationed and high-minded, who felt and established themselves and their actions as good, that is, of the first rank, in contradistinction to all the low, low-minded, common and plebeian. It was out of this pathos of distance that they first seized the right to create values and to coin names for values.” (Nietzsche, 26)

By exploring the meaning behind the meaning and the context of the debate, Nietzsche achieved a cohesive argument that would be quite difficult to attain in the traditional style. ‘Proving’ nihilism to a critical audience in a debate format would be a difficult task, because it is an attack upon the basic fundaments of their character. A Grecian argument cum Plato would force the reader to question and dismiss his or her own sense of morality, a rather untenable position. But by providing that genealogy of morals, Nietzsche can contextualize his perspective and convince the reader of their similarity of viewpoint.

Michel Foucault wrote his works in the light of Nietzsche’s success, and his style of argument was strongly affected by Nietzsche’s work. But the interval had given time for Nietzsche’s acolytes to refine the perspective, which left Foucault’s Discipline and Punish and his Birth of the Prison somewhat derivative in nature, but also more strongly removed from classical argument than that of Nietzsche himself. Foucault makes no real attempt to convince the reader of any overriding thesis – other than extending this mode of thinking to the school and barracks – he only outlines his genealogy of punishment and control.

Foucault explores the history of penal reform, the slow progression from the tortuous punishment of the autocrat, to the idealistic reform and attempted rehabilitation advocated by Enlightenment philosophers, and finally to the modern system of his contemporaries, which attempted a shallower yet more over-arching form of impersonal control and punishment for the population at large. While he is less proscriptive than Nietzsche, he nonetheless clearly lays out his chosen perspective solution.

“It was not so much, or not only, the privileges of justice, its arbitrariness, its archaic arrogance, its uncontrolled rights that were criticized; but rather the mixture of its weaknesses and excesses, its exaggerations and its loopholes, and above all the very principle of this mixture, the ‘super-power’ of the monarch. The true objective of the reform movement, even in its most general formulations, was not so much to establish a new right to punish based on more equitable principles, as to set up a new ‘economy’ of the power to punish, to assure its better distribution, so that it should be neither too concentrated at certain privileged points, nor too divided between opposing authorities; so that it should be distributed in homogenous circuits capable of operating everywhere, in a continuous way, down to the finest grain of the social body.” (Foucault, 80)

The genealogy is the common link between Foucault and Nietzsche, and it serves to differentiate the two from the majority of other political scientist authors. And the system was borne out by both of them; both authors used it successfully to promote their arguments. Nietzsche’s critique of morality has been embraced by potent socio-political movements (nihilism, atheism, reformism, Nazism) since his heralded first publishing of Genealogy of Morals. Foucault’s impersonal yet hyper-vigilant system of order and punishment has been embraced by Western law enforcement throughout the world.

While it would be imprudent to lay entirety of their success at the feet of their books, it is clear that the genealogical style of argument can be powerfully persuasive, even if it is not as widely practiced as the classical confrontational style used by many other political scientist authors.

Nietzsche v Foucault (Part One)

I just finished working on two essays for my fantastic Political Science class with Prof. James Ingram, who is unfortunately heading back to Canada rather than sticking around the University of Oregon. Here is the first half of the first essay, which doubtlessly will never be read by anyone, but will make up for some of the shorter posts I've been making as of late. Hah.

“There is no such thing as absolute certainty,
But there is assurance sufficient for the purposes of human life.”

- John Stuart Mill, On Liberty

Prompt two: Nietzsche writes a ‘genealogy’ of modern morality; Foucault writes a ‘genealogy’ of modern punishment and the “modern soul.” Based on these two examples, what is ‘genealogy’? What are its main methods and aims? How does it differ from other types of political theory we have read? Does Foucault’s version of genealogy differ from Nietzsche’s?

Modernist political scientists have consistently attempted to examine the underpinnings of supposed failures in contemporary society. J.S. Mill did so by examining the dichotomous contest between the power of the state and the freedom of the individual, Alexis de Tocqueville explored the rise of the new form of democratic government presented by the United States of America, in comparison to revolutionary France. Max Weber and Karl Marx also make their arguments in support of fundamental, systemic changes to the government and societal values that form the basis of the problems they observe in society. So it can be seen that, in their works, Friedrich Nietzsche and Michel Foucault do not stray appreciably from the standard role of the modernist political scientist: a critic of the status quo. But it is their method of critique in which they are unique – for they part from the standard form of examination and attempt a genealogy. This method of argument is markedly different from the custom, as are its aims, but it also strikes upon a system of discourse that is as valuable as the classical method of debate.

Before exploring what Nietzsche and Foucault have done, what a genealogy is, we must first understand what a genealogy is not. J.S. Mill, Tocqueville and the rest can be seen as standard bearers of the customary form of literary exploration and written critical thinking. Mill identifies the principal problem(s) at hand (for example the subjection of women in society), as well as the contemporary advocates of that cause. He then uses argument and anecdote to prove his counterproposal (to include women as equal members of society without sharply defined gender roles, to continue the example).

Mill’s On Liberty is considered a sterling example of political thought, Raymond Geuss and Quentin Skinner, series editors of the Cambridge Texts in the History of Political thought, herald the work as “the most powerful defence [sic] of the freedom of the individual.” But it is important to note that the author keeps himself within the contemporary. His exploration of the past, of the history of the women’s rights movement itself, is tepid at best. Mill does not concern himself with such things, for he is quite busy taking on every facet of the argument of his chosen opponent. In doing so, Mill is utterly convincing (to this author, at least), and this style of writing is mirrored by previously mentioned authors such as Tocqueville, Weber and Marx.

Foucault and Nietzsche do not follow this line of argument. While they do examine contemporary problems, to a point, they are far more concerned with the exploration of the history of the problems, and of the previously attempted solutions to these problems, which have often existed throughout the duration of civilized society. This is their major contribution, Foucault and Nietzsche, the genealogical argument. It is one that is more focused on providing context and understanding than persuasion, and indeed it is difficult to identify the purposed solutions offered by either author. Despite this, Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morals and Foucault’s Discipline and Punish and The Birth of the Prison are fascinating reads; they are major and significant explorations of the human psyche. The works attempt to lead you by the hand to the author’s conclusion, rather than the classic analytical proof of the other authors that often appears more akin to a literary press gang.

Tocqueville v Mill (Part Two)

I wrote a class essay comparing two of liberal theory's earliest adherents, Tocqueville and J.S. Mill. I thought that I would share it here. One of the things I find most fascinating about the authors is that so many of their arguments are continued today: the relationship between liberty and equality, for instance, or the role of women in society. Reading the old authors gives context, and a reference point to better understand today's debates.

This is the second of two parts of this essay:

The previous passages are examples of how Mill and Tocqueville tend to unite in message, but deviate in tone. But this is not to say that this is always the case. Both authors speak to the equality of women in society, and in generally positive tones towards women.

In his essay The Subjection of Women, Mill writes at length about the importance of female empowerment, which he considers a major issue confronting democratic societies. Tocqueville echoes this perspective in his short chapter ‘How the Americans Understand the Equality of Man and Woman,’ which he concludes with the hypothetical question: “[Were I] asked to what I think must be principally attributed the remarkable prosperity and growing strength of this people, I would answer that it is to the superiority of their women.” (Tocqueville, 268)

However, once the two authors are examined critically, one recognizes that there are striking differences between their real opinions on this issue. Mill speaks of the status of women in terms of slavery, while Tocqueville easily assumes the “inferiority” of women compared to men.

“I have not noticed,” Tocqueville writes, “that American women considered conjugal authority as a happy usurpation of their rights nor that they believed that to submit to it was to abase themselves. It appeared to me, on the contrary, that they fashioned for themselves a kind of glory out of the voluntary renunciation of their will and that they placed their grandeur in bending themselves to the yoke and not escaping it. That, at least, is the sentiment that the most virtuous ones express: the others keep quiet, and in the United States one does not hear an adulterous wife noisily clamoring for woman’s rights while trampling on her most sacred duties.” (Tocqueville, 266)

Comparatively, Mill argues forcefully for greater freedoms on the part of women – for an escape from the domestic role that Tocqueville espouses.

“The legal subordination of one sex to the other,” Mill writes, “is wrong in itself, and now one of the chief hindrances to human improvement; and that it ought to be replaced by a principle of perfect equality, admitting no power or privilege on the one side, nor disability on the other.” (Mill, 119)

In this, it is clear that despite having a similar tone, Mill strongly differentiates himself from Tocqueville, who characterizes the former’s argument as submission to the “despotic empire of women.”

Thus, it is shown that the two men differ greatly on this subject, as they do on other topics such as racial segregation and Mill’s leanings beyond liberalism, towards libertarianism. Still, it is best to note their similarities than to contrast their differences, for both lived in an era where liberalism remained a revolutionary idea.

Tocqueville and Mill share themes in their works. Both authors promote American-style democracy, individual freedom and the role of the middle-class. They both contend with the dichotomies of liberty versus authority, and liberty versus equality. And perhaps the most important similarity of all is their common fear of the tyranny of the majority, which was perhaps best explained thusly by Prof. James Ingram: “It is a fear that the public will become a tyrant, and eventually appoint one.”

For Tocqueville, this fear was vindicated 20 years after the publication of Democracy by the coronation of Louis-Napoléon Bonaparte as emperor of France.

Tocqueville v Mill (Part One)

I wrote a class essay comparing two of liberal theory's earliest adherents, Tocqueville and J.S. Mill. I thought that I would share it here. One of the things I find most fascinating about the authors is that so many of their arguments are continued today: the relationship between liberty and equality, for instance, or the role of women in society. Reading the old authors gives context, and a reference point to better understand today's debates.

This is the first of two parts of this essay:

French historian Alexis de Tocqueville and British philosopher John Stuart Mill are both important authors in the history of liberalism and individual freedom. Tocqueville’s post French-revolutionary Democracy in America examined the successes and failures of 19th century America, with an eye towards the democratization of Western Europe. Mill’s On Liberty, published 25 years later, is considered a founding document of liberal thinking. Together, the two writers propose powerful arguments for personal liberty and democratic government – but from different perspectives. With different backgrounds and different political realities, it is not surprising that Tocqueville and Mill have different views on many issues; what is surprising is the number of striking similarities they do have.

Tocqueville was born a French aristocrat, in a time where the nobility had far more access to education and political power than the lower classes. This perspective permeated his writing, though he ended up supporting the republican movement that diminished the power of the aristocratic class.

“If one encounters less brilliance [in a Democratic state] than in the bosom of an aristocracy,” Tocqueville writes in the beginning of Democracy, “one also finds less misery; pleasures will be less extreme and well-being more general; the sciences less grand and ignorance rarer; feelings less energetic and habits milder; one will notice there more vices and fewer crimes.” (Tocqueville, 9)

Mill takes a note from Tocqueville’s writings, and he also explores the effects – positive and negative – that democracy has upon society. However, though Mill is equally well educated (and perhaps even more academic), he was decidedly middle-class (his father, James Mill, was a well-known liberalist author, but certainly not a noble). J.S. Mill’s upbringing means he identifies more with the common citizen than Tocqueville does. While both authors - in their own way - extol the virtues of the democratic middle class, Mill takes a more inclusionist tone. This can be seen from the beginning of On Liberty, where Mill’s language is more reminiscent of the Declaration of Independence than Tocqueville’s reflective work.

“From this liberty of each individual,” Mill writes, “follows the liberty, within the same limits, of combination among individuals; freedom to unite, for any purpose not involving harm to others: the persons combining being supposed to be of full age, and not forced or deceived. No society in which these liberties are not, on the whole, respected, is free, whatever may be its form of government; and none is completely free in which they do not exist absolute and unqualified. The only freedom which deserves the name, is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs, or impede their efforts to obtain it.” (Mill, 16)

Still, despite their distinct perspectives, Tocqueville and Mill often see eye to eye in a general sense. Both authors support individual freedoms, democratic government and suffrage. And each senses societal problems ignored or engendered by democracy, though the two remain broadly supportive of democratic ideals. For Tocqueville these concerns merely form part of his extended critique of American democracy, but Mill focuses his attentions upon these perceived problems.

"Individuals, classes, nations, have been extremely unlike one another: they have struck out a great variety of paths, each leading to something valuable,” Mill writes. “Europe is, in my judgment, wholly indebted to this plurality of paths for its progressive and many-sided development. But it already begins to possess this benefit in a considerably less degree. It is decidedly advancing towards the Chinese ideal of making all people alike. M. de Tocqueville, in his last important work, remarks how much more the Frenchmen of the present day resemble one another, than did those even of the last generation.” (Mill, 72)