Tag Archives: Karl Marx

The New Class Struggle

Climate Change, Great Thinkers, History, Middle Way Philosophy, Philosophy, Politics, Psychology, Sociology,

In recent weeks I have been hacking my way through piles of exam papers, particularly featuring a question about Marx. Although this activity generally requires the suppression of all creative impulses in favour of total concentration, I still haven’t managed to stop myself engaging in some reflections about the relevance or otherwise of Marx’s beliefs about class struggle today, and how it all relates to the Middle Way. Now that I’ve finished the marking, I’m finally at sufficient liberty to write down my thoughts.

In ‘The Communist Manifesto’, Marx and Engels famously described the whole of human history as a history of class struggle. In one way or another, they say, the propertied classes have constantly found new ways of exploiting the unpropertied proletariat, in differing circumstances from ancient slavery to the factory floor. However, they go on, capitalism creates such extreme exploitation that eventually the workers “will have nothing to lose but their chains”. Purified by their total exploitation, they will overthrow the bourgeoisie in a revolution, which will usher in a merely temporary dictatorship of the proletariat, followed by the ultimate stability of the communist society.

The elements of dogma in this story are not too hard to identify. The socio-economic determinism is one: Marx’s ‘inevitable’ story shows no signs of turning out quite like that. The purification of the proletariat through suffering is also a projection that seems to have no basis in psychological, let alone historical, conditions. Far from gaining the ultimate wisdom to finally end social and political conflict, people who are suffering acutely tend to get more stressed and more reactive. It’s only if you are very well prepared for your suffering that you might be able to learn from it, but even then it’s unlikely to bring you to an absolute state of moral perfection.

Nevertheless, the power in Marx’s story, fuelling several revolutions, also suggests to me that there must be some insights in it, mixed in with the dogmas. The story that history is a matter of class struggle does seem potent, because it is indeed quite possible to analyse history in that way.  More profoundly, though, class struggles are also struggles within individuals, who identify with different sets of beliefs that may either prioritise narrow economic interests or wider values. Those conflicting values also defy resolution because they are framed in absolute terms. When you feel that you have to choose between your job and your conscience, for instance, that is ‘class struggle’ in a the wider sense, whether you are a nineteenth century mill worker or a modern Conservative Member of Parliament. You can focus on class struggle sociologically and ignore the psychology (as Marx did), or you can focus on resolving the psychology of the personal struggle and ignore its political dimension (as in the recent phenomenon of ‘McMindfulness’), but the phenomena you are dealing will have all these dimensions, and the tendency to ignore some of them is an unfortunate result of over-specialisation.

Property can provide powerful vested interests, but vested interest is not the only human motivation, so I cannot agree with Marx’s assumption that the story of class conflict is only about the division between those who have property and those who do not. Instead, it seems to me more powerfully to be between those who absolutise narrow motives (including, but not limited to, property interests) and those who, whilst remaining human and having interests, are capable of thinking provisionally about them and weighing up different values. Ironically enough, those who are capable of doing this quite often have a modest amount of property, which has given them enough security to be able to start thinking provisionally. Those who have no property at all are often (but not always) so insecure that it’s difficult for them to avoid thinking in absolute ways that are constantly fuelled by craving and anxiety. No, the proletariat are not purified by their suffering. Rather their suffering makes them easier for unscrupulous absolutists to exploit.

So what is the class struggle today? Well, we are in the midst of it. The US and the UK particularly are currently wracked by political conflict that seems to have a strong class basis. That political conflict involves ongoing polarised disagreement about climate change, about nationalism, about social justice, about the rights of minorities, and about the role of the state, along with many other associated issues. It’s not a conflict between the property-owning bourgeoisie and the propertyless proletariat though. Rather it’s primarily a conflict between, on the one hand, a cabal of autocrats and billionaires with their numerous stooges, and on the other, middle class intellectuals. Not all members of any particular socio-economic group are necessarily on one side or the other – there are still middle class intellectual climate change denialists, working class internationalists, and billionaire liberals. Nevertheless, the conflicts have a strong class dimension as well as a psychological and philosophical dimension. It would be surprising if they didn’t, given how important social class is to our identity.

The ‘middle class intellectual’ class has not been merely created by material conditions and accompanying vested interests, as Marx would tell us. Rather, they have come to appreciate conditions better, and overcome some of their biases, by having their minds opened in one of a variety of possible ways. University education and professional training provide the most common vectors for it (as shown in Robert Kegan’s work on the contexts for what he calls stage 4 and 5 adult psychological development). Travel, friendship, study, art, and religious experience all provide other possible routes to bigger perspectives that may help to inoculate you against becoming a stooge.

The new propertied exploiters, on the other hand, are defined either by their narrow focus on power and economic advantage, or by other dominant absolute beliefs that facilitate that exploitation (such as religious fundamentalism). The majority of their supporters, though, are subject to what Marx called ‘false consciousness’: that is, they have been influenced into a set of beliefs that are against their own long-term best interests. The sources of false consciousness now come overwhelmingly from media manipulation that can apparently be traced back to autocrats and billionaires, from Fox News to the Daily Mail to Russian troll factories. This media bias chart provides a useful reference of the sources of such manipulation (which are found on left as well as right, but are overwhelmingly weighted towards the right). The strong links between climate change denial, the fossil fuel industry, and right wing politics are also confirmed by a number of academic studies.

In Marx’s analysis, intractable class conflict can come to an end only through violent revolution that breaks the mould of the system. Unfortunately this seems to be another of his delusions, if the evidence of actual revolutions is anything to go by. A revolution may change those in power, but it is unlikely to change the systemic patterns of interaction, which are likely to reassert themselves to a greater or lesser degree (as they did in the Soviet Union). The stakes in our new class conflict, though, are far higher than just the exploitation of one class. The very survival of human civilisation is at stake. The conflict may end in the ‘revolution’ of the destruction of all, or it may be gradually ameliorated through changes in the ways that we respond to conditions. Either way, though, the middle-class intellectuals will evidently prevail in the long-run, just as Marx predicted that the proletariat would prevail, either by being proved right or by running the world their way. That’s not because they’ve been purified or because their perspective is perfect, but rather because they imperfectly recognise that their perspective is imperfect when their opponents do not.

Is this another story as incredible as Marx’s? I think it identifies some of Marx’s insights (class conflict, its intractability, its relationship to ideology, its asymmetry, and the nature of false consciousness) whilst also drawing attention to his dogmas (determinism, absolutisation of vested interest, purification of suffering) and limitations (ignorance of psychology, ignorance of ecology). Marx was concerned, most basically, with how people address conditions, but the ‘science’ with which he interpreted this was heavily loaded with false assumptions. The updated story I’m offering in its place may also be based on some false assumptions, but at least it is based to some degree of recognition of the need to address such assumptions (Marx tended, instead, to say that his story was ‘science’ and everyone else’s was ‘ideology’).

I expect some of the first reactions to that alternative story to be based on false equivalence, which is a common absolutist strategy (think of Trump drawing equivalences between white supremacist demonstrators and their opponents). For an absolutist, everything is dual, and there can be no such thing as better judgement through provisionality. Their opponents are therefore always assumed to be as absolute as they are, and they will insist on reducing all complexity to that equivalence. Incremental marks of credibility (such as expertise, relative lack of vested interest, ability to observe, and corroboration) as well as every kind of evidence and every widely-used value, are ground down by absolutists into the same false equivalence. However, as Marx recognised, the class struggle is asymmetrical. One side is right and the other wrong (even if it’s not always clear who is on each side), because the wrong side is entirely blinded by its assumptions, totally immersed in confirmation bias. We are all subject to confirmation bias, but some of us are facing up to this fact and others are not.

The other objection I am expecting will be to point out a false dichotomy. “It’s not as simple as that,” you may say. “Surely there were not just two conflicting classes in Marx’s day, and there aren’t now either?” I agree. I am only trying to make sense of the idea of “class conflict” by separating out the elements that seem to demonstrably cause conflict from those that are just Marxian dogmas. However, any generalisations we make about “classes”, especially when they involve determinately dividing people up, are fraught with all kinds of complex difficulties. That’s why I only want to define the “classes” in terms of their relationships to absolutisation. Whenever you or I are dominated by absolutisation, we’re in the repressive class, as exploiters or their stooges, even if we’re middle-class intellectuals. If we cease to do so and start to judge provisionally, even if we’re in the pay of Fox News, we cease at least temporarily to be in that exploitative class. We cannot define the classes sociologically in any way that I find remotely satisfactory. The social categories I have used above can only be proxies for psychological ones, and are just ways of pointing out that the psychological conditions do have constant social implications.

Psychologically, too, absolutism is not defined by counter-absolutism, but by its own assumptions.  Once again, then, we also see that the Middle Way is not a compromise. If we respond to absolutists with counter-absolutism (as some left-wing absolutists do) we become absolutists. However, if we respond critically but with confident provisionality, we are not being dogmatic. The practice of the Middle Way is provisionality, not compromise, and the confidence with which it needs to be taken up must not be automatically mistaken for dogma. The Middle Way seems to be the only practical solution to the class conflict that so much concerned Marx.

From Conflict to Integration – Social Change in 19th Century Britain

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800px-London_2012_olympics_industrial_revolutionThe industrial revolution of Britain was not just technological in character– there was also massive social and political upheaval, of which we are still engaged in today. I have selected several examples to try and argue that this era provides a vivid example of how the integration of desires and beliefs can not only be of significant benefit to society as a whole, but provides the most effective framework from which to navigate seemingly incompatible ideas. This is written from my own, British, perspective and as such is focused on British politics and history, however I suspect that these events had significant consequences around the world and I am also sure that similar examples could easily be found in other societies. I will refer here to several individuals and ideologies, narrowly focusing on specific features; in no way do I intend to provide a full representation of any of them. Figures such as Adam Smith and were hugely influential for many reasons – of which several volumes could be written. Having said that, I sincerely hope that I have not misrepresented any individual or event in my brief summary of the economic conditions, social issues, and ideologies that have lead – in large part – to the world that we live in today.

Clearly, there has been much social and political conflict throughout the history of the British Isles, but the basic Norman social structure – of a strict hierarchical pyramid, with the vast majority at the very bottom with little concept of social mobility – survived, for centuries, in one form or another – with little significant change for the majority of the population.  Then, as technology rapidly changed throughout the late 18th and early 19th century, so did the living and working conditions of much of the working population, as they moved in ever increasing numbers to simultaneously spectacular and monstrous industrialized cities, such as Manchester – whose population had increased threefold during the first half of the 19th Century.  Life had never been easy for those living in the murky, parasite ridden depths of society.  Yet, with severe overcrowding, increased disease and dangerous, perpetually uncertain working conditions, things must have felt as if they were worse than they had ever been – a feeling that would only have been magnified by gazing, in a rare moment of free time, at the lucky people bathing in the rapidly improving, but ultimately out of reach shallows.

Those merchants, manufacturers, professionals and political classes were not blind to the suffering of their less fortunate contemporaries – and nor were they entirely unsympathetic. However, while in 21st Century Britain, I can’t help but find the general consensus for solutions, and the subsequent treatment of the labouring classes, callous and barbaric – at that time most of the people that could make a difference believed that not actively alleviating suffering was the kindest – and indeed, only legitimate – course of action. During the first half of the 19th Century it was widely believed that economic conditions should be allowed to operate freely, without restriction. This extended to fluctuations in wages and job availability – if the market demanded that wages drop, or a large proportion of the work force be laid off, then employers must be allowed to act accordingly. The belief seemed to be that, left unmolested – and pursued for ones own individual benefit – the rapid rise in manufacture and the massive profits that this generated would not only benefit the individual, but, eventually, the whole of society too. Any suffering caused along the way was regarded as unfortunate but necessary ‘collateral damage’. Displays of undue compassion and generosity might temporarily alleviate some suffering, but the collapse in the market which would surely follow would be a disaster: causing misery and suffering for an even greater number of people.

These economic ideas (which I think form part of Classical Liberal Economics) were inspired by earlier thinkers such as Adam Smith, who seemed to believe that a free market operated under the influence of absolute natural laws which were themselves regulated by a metaphysical ‘invisible hand’. Other ideas were being formed during this period, and chief among these were those of Friedrich Engels and Karl Marx. I’m not sure that either of these men disputed the claims of liberal economists, but it is clear that they anticipated a much different outcome. After visiting Manchester in 1842, and being deeply affected by what he saw, Engels first developed his ideas – of which one was the perceived inevitability of the working class rising up in violent revolution and consequently replacing the capitalist system with a new fairer, socialist society. In the following years Engels and Marx would greatly develop this idea and, as serious and violent attempts at revolution swept across the rest of Europe in 1848, they must have felt that they were right. These revolutions were not directly influenced by the writings of Marx and Engels (who probably exerted their greatest influence during the 20th century), there were probably many causes, often specific to different areas of Europe. Nevertheless, the desire for greater equality and political reform seems to have been a common theme and this often manifested in a demand for universal suffrage (although this did not yet include Women).

The events in Europe were not spontaneous; the turbulence was manifest in the decades leading up to this wave of disruption and Britain was no exception: from the Peterloo Massacre of 1819, to the action conducted and influenced by the Chartists between 1838 and 1850. The Chartist_DemonstrationChartists, who sought universal suffrage and the improvement of working and living conditions, not only inspired and encouraged industrial action but also published the Peoples Charter, which consisted of six primary demands for political change  and yet despite their popularity with the working classes, and the disruption that they inspired – they were largely ignored by the political and industrial elite, considered only as a mere nuisance. In 1848, although there had been several Factory Acts, that had legislated many improvements on working conditions (especially for women and children), there was little change to the social and economic structure; there was no revolution and the Chartists had failed – condemned to limp ineffectively along before disbanding two years later.

So what did happen and how does this all relate to the Middle Way? With the violence and turmoil erupting over the channel, the obvious suffering of a great number of people on this side of the water, and the signs of growing impatience from the labourers (who’s efforts formed the unwashed foundations of the wealth of the few) – many, from the circles of society that could make an actual difference, began to question the status-quo. There have been philanthropists and socially conscious do-gooders throughout history – with evangelical Christians and Quakers, whose efforts may have helped to inspire the thoughts of others, deserving special mention during this period of British history.  However, it was only as ideas of altruism came from wider sources that real change began to occur.

Philosophers, such as Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill (who has featured in Robert M Ellis’s ‘Middle Way Thinkers’ series) were both early proponents of, what seems to me to be, an extreme free-market system – yet both became important critics who argued for increased state intervention and rights for workers (As an aside, Bentham had always been opposed to Smiths idea of natural laws governing economic systems).  Additionally, writers such as Charles Dickens and Elizabeth Gaskell were also increasingly outspokenElizabeth_Gaskell_7 about social conditions, both in their writings and – especially in Dickens case – their public engagements. As the voices of dissent, from the mouths and pens of so called reputable sources, increased, so did the interest of parliament – after all, these voices actually had a vote. Consequently, some politicians began to wonder if technological/ economic progress couldn’t also be conducted with, what we would call today, a social conscience – which would not just benefit the hypothetical population of a utopian future, but also the very population that were toiling relentlessly to make such progress possible at all.

Parliament fiercely debated these issues and what began to emerge, as a continuation of the earlier factory acts, was an integration of competing desires. Starting from accepted economic dogma, having also considered the possibility of total and violent social revolution, and musing over the possibility of altruistic policy,  a series of reforms continued to increase the electoral franchise and improve the living and working conditions of the previously unheard majority – with the development of universally available civic amenities, such as public libraries. The European social revolutions of the 19th century were largely unsuccessful, with things returning to much as they were before – perhaps even worse, and the economic and industrial systems did not collapse with the increase of certain state interventions. That is not to say that the suffering stopped, we are still navigating through these extremes and sometimes veer a little to close to the edge, yet we have so far steered the ship in a largely progressive and beneficial direction – things in Britain are much better than in the 19th Century and I am confident that we will continue precariously in this direction.

In many parts of the world, however, these issues are painfully relevant and it appears that the free-market is pursued at the tragic expense of a silent majority. Perhaps, given time, this system will provide significant benefits for all involved, but is the suffering of today worth the prize? I don’t think so, but nor do I wish for a radical overthrow of the whole system. Of the six demands made by the Chartists, and ignored by everybody that could have made a difference at the time, five have since been passed as law (and in fact society has gone much further, with the rights of women to vote as one important example). If those in power had not been so enamoured with a dogmatic status-quo and had been willing to consider the views of those that opposed it, these reforms might have happened not only sooner, but more rapidly.

I also believe there are lessons here for the leaders of multi national corporations and the leaders of the (rapidly) developing nations – if better working conditions did not cause the collapse of the Victorian economy, then why should it theirs? It is easy to feel helpless when faced with the plight of many of our international neighbours, but as individuals and consumers we can make choices; like the manufacturers and merchants of the 19th century, it is us that now benefit from the suffering of others. Perhaps by making the right kinds of choices we can play a small part in encouraging, not a radical overthrow of the system – but the nurturing of a Middle Way where profits can still be made and, more importantly, social conditions can be wilfully improved. Of course the political leaders of the more economically developed nations can also exert an obvious influence too.

Another lesson that I see here is this: as voters and participants in the political system, we should use our hard won privileges to ensure that domestic politics does not fall into a stagnant status-quo. I am deeply suspicious of the so called ‘centre ground’ – which is sold to us as a kind of Middle Way: not too far right and not too far left. As our politicians all scrabble around for this goldilocks politics, those who do not conform are pushed out of the system and as parliament appears increasingly bland, people are, understandably, attracted to the voices calling from the peripheries – these are often unpalatable, but others (as I think the Chartists were) might be making important and useful points. It is not the job of parliament to tell us where the centre is, it is the job of parliament to take a representative selection of views – often seemingly diametrically opposed – and navigate it’s way between them.

If a more explicit Middle Way approach had been employed in the eighteen-hundreds then perhaps progress would have been sooner in coming, we may never know, but we can try to apply the Middle Way to contemporary issues at home and further away. However, as with politics, we should not expect to find some mythical centre; rather we should navigate through the extremes as best we can.

Images courtesy of Wikimedia Commons