Still Posting Here!

I haven't given up posting to this blog but recently have been active elsewhere - two pieces published on openDemocracy. I will be continuing to post stuff here though and I've also created Kindle (MOBI) and PDF format books of all my blog posts up to June 2013, for anyone who prefers to read them all in one lump. Download them for free by clicking the cover picture.


Here are the links to my two oD pieces, the first of which is a revised version of my last post here:

The Battle between Countries and Companies

Cool Capitalism: changing principles of protest

THE CRUNCH

With the current outbreak of indignation over tax evasion by multinational corporations, we're finally coming face-to-face with the biggest problem of our times: one more important than the financial crisis, than terrorism or sexual abuse, more immediately important even than global warming. What's at stake is the continued existence of the state as we've known it for the last several centuries, without whose powers none of those other problems are soluble (despite any fairy tales that libertarians and Tea Party whackos may tell you). Without revenues there can be no state, a fact that's perfectly understood by those Republican billionaires whose purchased congressmen are currently preventing the USA from being governed.

The recent visit of Google's CEO Eric Schmidt to London rubbed the point in. Explaining that "if you change the tax laws, we'll obey them", he treated UK PM David Cameron with the amused air of a cheeky schoolboy talking to a nagging teacher, but that amiable levity was a mask for the fact that he now wields more power than a mere PM and knows it. In my current PC Pro column I had this to say about another of the tax-evading internet giants, Facebook:

"Katherine Losse was a pioneer Facebook employee who used to ghost-write posts for Mark Zuckerberg himself, and in her recent book 'The Boy Kings' she offers a disturbing picture of his thinking. The main points of his credo include youthfulness, openness, sharing power and 'companies over countries'. Asked what he meant by the latter he told her 'it means that the best thing to do now, if you want to change the world, is to start a company. It’s the best model for getting things done and bringing your vision to the world.' So the model for a new world is the Californian youth-oriented corporation, untramelled by pesky laws and regulations, by messy old-world stuff like pensions and having to win elections. The Nation State is just plain out-of-date, it still practices stupid stuff like secrecy and taxation, it doesn't get the New Digital Narcissism where everyone can be an (unpaid) star of their own channel. All rather reminiscent of the 1960s counterculture mixed with a dash of Orwell's Oceania, Eurasia, EastAsia. But actually it starts to look rather like a new variation on feudalism where you'll only get fed if you become a retainer of one of these mega-corporations, as the boring old centralised state and its services wither away."

Commentators are beginning to wake up to the scale of this problem. For example in a recent blog post Robert Reich notes that while politicians are all talking the talk about ending tax evasion and havens, nothing actually ever gets done about it:

"The same disconnect is breaking out all over the world. The chairman of a British parliamentary committee investigating Google for tax avoidance calls the firm 'devious, calculating, and unethical,' yet British officials court the firm’s CEO as if he were royalty. Prime Minister David Cameron urges tax havens to mend their ways and vows to crack down on tax cheats, yet argues taxes must be low in the UK because 'we’ve got to encourage investment, we’ve got to encourage jobs and I want Britain to be a winner in the global race'. These apparent contradictions are rooted in the same reality: global capital, in the form of multinational corporations as well as very wealthy individuals, is gaining enormous bargaining power over nation states."

Of course modern nation states are still more powerful than corporations like Apple, Google, Amazon and Facebook, if only because they make the laws and can enforce them, in the last resort by using a police force and an army which those corporations don't possess. In a sci-fi fantasy film the next step would be for the corporations to buy their own private armies, but that isn't how the real world works - the danger is actually far more insidious than that. It involves a subject I've touched on here in another recent post, the idea of the "surplus wage".

Over the last three decades or so the world's economy has tended to decouple reward from effort, an effect that's visible not just in bankers' bonuses and "fat-cat" managers' salaries, but also in the lifestyle and remuneration of sportsmen, popular entertainers and other celebrities. Slavoj Žižek has analysed this phenomenon in terms of payment of "surplus wages", which are entirely unrelated to actual productivity but get paid to insiders accepted into certain cliques and professions. This phenomenon can be looked upon as a legal way of looting the wider economy. The ineffectuality of the Left's attempts to agitate about the current economic crisis is in part due to the fact that many people who 50 years ago might have taken to the streets in protest, are now pacified by the slim hope of gaining entry to the privileged ranks of these surplus-waged. Methods of entry can include nepotism, winning the lottery, wangling a local government sinecure, starting an internet business, making it as a footballer or conceptual artist, writing a hit tune in your back-bedroom or winning a TV talent show, being discovered as a model, or joining a drug dealing gang.

The very greatest danger we face is that our politicians - those who spend our tax money to run the state supposedly on our behalf - will become entirely suborned by the giant corporations that they're supposed to be taxing, by enrollment into the surplus waged club. There's already ample evidence of this happening, from the instant millionaire status so quickly achieved by the Tony Blairs and Bill Clintons on the international speaking circuits, through various hushed-up bribery scandals of recent years, to the lonely death of Margaret Thatcher in her humble suite at the Ritz. The corporations have most of the money and increasingly most of the power too since they monopolise mass communication channels in ways that our none-too-technically-bright politicians barely comprehend. These corporations are generous in doling out the surplus wage to secure the fidelity of the right people. What if the political class as a whole in effect changes sides, representing only the interests of these corporations? The dismantling of the post-WWII democratic welfare states could proceed unhindered and Chinese authoritarian capitalism would become a template for the future. 

The real Catch-22 is that the contempt for politicians this process engenders merely inflames the problem. It turns people against the state itself and toward empty Tea Party style libertarian rhetoric. It will require nimble political footwork at a level that no-one I can currently see possesses, to defend the role of the state effectively against this pincer movement of billionaire lobbyists and populist rabble rousers. Amid all the twitter and yap of declining consumer capitalism it's far too easy to overlook the fact that the social-democratic state, rather than the "free market", is what gave us all our current freedoms, that it was the fruit of two centuries of labour struggles - and that it's being stolen from under our very noses. 

NOTE: For a deeper analysis of the ideology of Californian hi-tech corporations, see Richard Barbrook and Andy Cameron (no relation) on The Californian Ideology

Attention Please!

Do I have your full attention? Chances are that I do until around the end of this sentence, but after that I might lose it pretty fast. My previous post here was about the physiological basis of emotion, and a natural follow up to that is to discuss “attention”, the way that emotional triggers guide our senses  toward opportunities and threats in the outside world. Attention is a function we share with most of the higher vertebrates, basically all those animals that can look you in the eye (something equivalent perhaps exists even in sessile creatures like corals, but on hugely longer time scales). At its root attention is a negative phenomenon, where the animal brain censors or filters out much of the information that pours in through eyes, ears and nose to permit concentration on just those important things that an animal might want to eat, or mate with, or which might want to eat them. To see attention at work watch a cat stalk a mouse, a sheepdog crouching in the field, or look an eagle in the eye (that’s pure attention). 

We humans tend to experience attention subjectively as something positive, a searchlight beam of intelligence that we project out onto the world and shine on its most interesting parts. Communication between humans is almost impossible without attention: if I don’t have your attention then I’m not really talking to you at all, I’m merely talking at you. In a quite deep sense your attention is who you are, a beacon that transmits your desires out onto the world and other people, which is why advertisers, performers and demagogues fight so hard to capture it. It can be stolen too: a most odious aspect of the latest communication technologies is the way they can monopolise attention to the detriment of face-to-face interaction. Who hasn’t had the experience of talking to someone who is more-or-less surreptitiously glancing at their smartphone? (The very latest development, Google Glass, enables people to apparently interact with you while simultaneously giving their attention to a website or some remote communicant. I find it rather encouraging that already within weeks of its release some bars in California have started to ban the use of Glass, and have coined the excellent insult “glassholes” for people who persist…)

The only satisfactory philosophical account of attention I know is that given by George Santayana, most rigorously developed in Scepticism and Animal Faith, a difficult and densely compressed work in which he laid out the foundations of his mature philosophical system. There he starts out from what philosophers call a “solipsism of the present moment”, where all one is allowed to know is that I am, here, now. There's a more readable account in Santayana's 1933 essay Locke and The Frontiers of Common Sense: 

"Animals that are sensitive physically are also sensitive morally, and feel the friendliness or hostility which surrounds them. Even pain and pleasure are no idle sensations, satisfied with their own presence: they violently summon attention to the objects that are their source. Can love or hate be felt without being felt towards something – something near and potent, yet external, uncontrolled, and mysterious? When I dodge a missile or pick a berry, is it likely that my mind should stop to dwell on its pure sensations or ideas without recognising or pursuing something material? [...] But when aroused to self-transcendent attention, feeling must needs rise to intelligence, so that external fact and impartial truth come within the range of consciousness, not indeed by being contained there, but by being aimed at."

He goes on to assert that any sentient and mobile creature must evolve attention, because the world is too full and exposure to all of its sense data must swamp any consciousness. Animal faith, crudely-speaking, means a set of default assumptions about the nature of the world that are hard-wired by evolution – basic stuff like, things fall downwards when you drop them, things remain where they are even when you don’t look at them, some things are dead while others are live agents, etc etc etc. Such assumptions aren’t philosophical axioms, don’t need to be defended by reason, and are by no means correct in every circumstance. They permit the brain to filter out most transient phenomena and focus its spotlight of attention onto the significant, a skipping of focus that accumulates the trail of snapshots which we call memory. The “beliefs” that comprise any particular animal faith will vary between species according to the niches in which they evolved, and by definition evolution ensures that they correspond well-enough (though never perfectly) to those creatures’ actual material environment.  

Santayana’s concept of animal faith overlaps in some respects with Kant’s “categories”, and likewise finds ample support in the latest findings of neuroscience. Philosophically it was the ladder he employed to climb above the endless and fruitless debates between epistemological idealists and realists. 

It seems to me that a good theory of attention is absolutely central to any materialist theory of aesthetics. In addition to writing columns and blogs I like to take photographs (the best of which I post on Flickr). It’s tempting to think of a camera as an extension of your attention, or at least as a tool for freezing the object your attention for all time. There may be a grain of truth in this, but the brute fact remains that the camera itself doesn’t possess attention, not being a sentient animal. Admittedly the latest digital cameras incorporate ever-smarter features like autofocus, face and even expression recognition, but they come nowhere close to the attention even of a newly-hatched sparrow.

It’s not a bad thing that the camera lacks attention: that means it grabs everything, even those things that weren’t in your attention when you took the shot. Great photographers like Brassai or Cartier-Bresson make these peripheral goings-on in a street scene half of their art. Every good photographer injects a certain amount of attention into their pictures, for example by controlling depth of field to blur out a background, or by shifting the focus point off centre. And of course, in the era of Photoshop and Picasa you can scream for viewers’ attention by colouring a single object within a black-and-white image, as Spielberg did that red coat girl in Schindler’s list. Such powerful but pulpy tricks sink really fast into tackiness though. I went through a phase of playing with High Dynamic Range (HDR) photography in which all the detail from three or four differently-exposed shots of the same scene are compressed down into a single image. The result is hyper-realistic, containing levels of detail that exceed what the human eye could ever capture for itself. Used with restraint this trick can sometimes induce a goose-pimply feeling that something strange is about to happen, but iron self-control is required to avoid it degenerating into over-the-top Hot Rod art (and of course advertisers now routinely employ it to enhance their wonderlands of conspicuous consumption).

Part of my reason for writing about attention just now is an excellent London Review of Books lecture by Nicholas Spice called Is Wagner bad for us? I won’t spoil things by revealing his answer, but will just concentrate on Spice’s critical approach which is based on Wagner’s acute ability to manipulate attention. As an interesting exercise he asks us to compare the first minute of Bizet’s Carmen, Verdi’s Falstaff, Strauss’s Der Rosenkavalier and Berg’s Wozzeck with the first minutes of each opera of the Ring cycle. (Thanks to the genius of Spotify this is an experiment I could carry out even while still reading the article). Spice argues that these other composers all more or less fail to learn from Wagner’s real innovation, because their first minutes are stuffed full of multiple themes and layers of counterpoint, creating a complexity that even a professional musician can’t absorb in a live hearing:

“There’s so much going on and in such a small space that although all of the music registers somewhere in our brains, we would be hard pressed, if asked a moment later, to describe more than a few of its salient features”.

By contrast Wagner’s openings all employ simple harmonic structures that slowly build and lead you into the drama: 

“Wagner builds his music over the longer timespan through a gradual accumulation of discretely presented elements. The power and excitement of the orchestral prelude to Die Walküre, for example, is intrinsically dependent on the extreme simplicity of its ingredients [...] The simplicity of the musical components allows us to feel that we are at the controls of this infernal machine, its drive our drive – and this is the authentic Wagnerian experience.”

In other words, rather than assault our attention with a barrage of contrasting materials, Wagner gives us the illusion that it’s our own attention that’s steering the music, seducing us into a degree of empathy that can notoriously turn into out-and-out addiction.

At a far-removed edge of the cultural spectrum, modern forms of electronic dance music employ beats to a similar end (techniques that you can historically trace back to the influence of African drum musics). Extended regular rhythms can capture the attention completely, in a state similar to a trance where one’s surroundings recede into irrelevance. Note the way that dance music producers are extremely scrupulous about the precise tempo (measure in beats per minute) of their tracks, and in fact bpm is one of the main criteria used to differentiate between the bewildering number of sub-genres: Wikipedia lists over 200 of them. It’s perfectly possible that different tempos induce different resonances with heart rate or brain-wave rhythms that contribute to the pleasure of dancing. Keeping the same tempo though, however compelling, for too long is to risk boredom and so the principal skill of a good DJ is knowing exactly when to interrupt or change it.

This principle is pushed further still in the bizarre genre of dubstep, to which I’ve found myself strangely attracted recently (even though it’s wholly inappropriate to my status as an OAP). Dubstep tracks typically employ a tempo around 140bpm, but then brutally disrupt this by a device known as “the drop”, whereby the tempo suddenly slows while becoming terrifyingly loud and combined with grotesque and humorous sound-effects that draw deeply on the emotional vocabulary of bad horror movies. Your attention is grabbed in more or less the same way as when you notice a runaway cement truck approaching. Wagner used techniques that were structurally (though certainly not harmonically!) similar, for example in the prelude to Die Walküre (around 2:15). As Spice says, Wagner wanted a listener to abandon himself unresistingly to the work so that he “involuntarily assimilates even what is most alien to his nature”.

Attention can be profoundly modified by the emotions, as for example when the release of adrenaline by a fright notoriously amplifies all your senses and causes your attention to become strongly focussed. Stimulant drugs operate by mimicking the effects of such stress-released hormones, and in this sense music is a sort of drug too (and a strong one at that) operating through its effects on attention. Drugs, art, music, sport, the internet, even religion, all are competing for and capturing your attention. Do take care lest you grant it too freely.

Nothing To Fear But Neuroscience?

I just watched Mel Gibson's 2006 movie Apocalypto on television. It's pretty remarkable coming from such a proselytising Christian, because its message to me appeared to be pure Nietzsche - innocent and virtuous pagans destroyed by not one but two evil organised religions, the Mayan blood cult and Spanish Christianity. Early in the movie its hero meets the remnants of another forest tribe who just escaped a massacre, and his father uses them as a lesson: "Fear. Deep rotting fear. They were infected by it. Did you see? Fear is a sickness. It will crawl into the soul of anyone who engages it. It has tainted your peace already. I did not raise you to see you live with fear. Strike it from your heart. Do not bring it into our village." The purple prose may be straight out of Edgar Rice Burroughs, but the content is quite profound. The infectious and debilitating nature of Fear has been well known to those who deal in Power for millenia, from Mongol conquerors and robber barons to US neo-cons. It's been theorised in depth by Machiavelli, Hobbes, Vico and many more, and their theories nowadays find material confirmation in modern neurophysiology, from the systemic effects of corticosteroid hormones that render victims of Fear passive and submissive.

Modern liberal democracies are supposed to have renounced the use of Fear as a political weapon, as famously stated by Franklin D Roosevelt in his 1933 inaugural speech:

"... first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself – nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance."

(As an aside, one hopes Barack Obama might rediscover some of this spirit during his second term as he confronts the Republicans' attempt to close down the US government, but I'm not holding my breath). Democratic politics actually took a serious step backwards after 9/11 as regards the handling of Fear. The so-called "War on Terror" aimed at the exact reverse of what its name implies, in effect seeking to re-introduce Fear into Western societies grown complacent. It may  not have been a conscious conspiracy, but rather a contingent convergence of aims between: Islamic terrorists seeking to punish the USA for its support of Israel; the mass media who understand that nothing attracts more eyeballs, faster, than a good disaster; the US military/industrial complex, ever fretful of maintaining its bloated budget; and politicians who know that the promise of security can be an election winner.  

Fear is as important a factor in economics as in politics. In the 1930s, the last time we were in such a deep economic mess as now, it was John Maynard Keynes who best grasped the role of emotion in economic calculation. Confidence is an essential condition for the operation of markets and Fear is its opposite, the poison that causes crashes and bank runs. His advocacy of strong government intervention to restore confidence after the crash became favoured policy for most of the world’s democratic governments from 1945, until Milton Friedman and Robert Lucas's neo-liberal ideas gained influence in the mid 1970s following the inflation caused by the Middle East oil crises. Fear causes people to hoard money, stops them spending and so stalls the economic cycle - the Cyprus bailout fiasco has given us a recent demonstration of its power.

Classical economists worked from the simplifying axiom that human economic behaviour is rational, which it clearly is not, and Keynes' acknowledgment of this irrationality had important effects. Economic actors aren't always able to calculate their own best interests, and markets are not the perfect, self-stabilising systems for disseminating price information of theory. The assumption that market prices are the sum of “rational expectations” (buy if you expect good news, sell if you expect bad news) is a simplification too far. Human behaviour isn't entirely or even mostly rational, as in everyday life (if not in the laboratory or seminar room) imagination and emotion often distort reason. Some traders merely imagine bad news and start selling, infecting others and send the whole market into a self-reinforcing downward spiral. Renowned hedge fund manager and currency speculator George Soros made billions from such irrational markets, by refusing to believe in rational expectations. His 2008 book The New Paradigm for Financial Markets treats of such feedback loops and explicitly separates traders’ perceptions of the market from its actual state. Acting on perceived market conditions changes those conditions which in turn alters the perception. When such feedback is negative we have that self-correcting behaviour that rational expectations theorists so admire, but once in a while it flips into a self-reinforcing howl of positive feedback, producing bubbles, bull runs, panics and crashes.

Keynes's recognition of the role of emotion lead to a crucial and historic victory for the democratic Left after WW2, but his lesson was not properly learned, and nowadays it's the Right that has mastered the manipulation of emotion. Advertisers persuade us to fear bad breath, embarassing stains, microbes lurking on every surface, while proclaiming that we deserve wonderful shining hair that will make us irresistible because "we're worth it". Politicians stoke our fears of immigrants and crime to distract our attention from their looting of the financial system and demolition of the welfare state. The Left is barely able to mount a coherent response to such tactics for several reasons: partly because these were its own tactics (agit-prop), turned against it; partly because its own emotional palette is impoverished and obsessed by history (righteous rage and compulsory optimism); but mostly because a naive rationalism prevails among Left intellectuals that makes them suspicious of emotion and squeamish of talking about it.  

Cognitive psychologists and neurophysiologists are (very early) in the process of revolutionising our understanding of emotional behaviour thanks to smart laboratory tests, as pioneered by Daniel Kahneman, and advances in fMRI scanning that allow observation of living, thinking brains. As with most scientific discoveries their results tend toward the morally neutral, and so can be interpreted and recruited to support opposing political positions. The media tend to be interested only in claims to have discovered genes or hard-wired brain circuits (eg."gay" genes, genes for "selfishness") that confirm pre-conceived views of "human nature", often accompanied by evolutionary just-so stories intended to explain their purpose . Worse still our current popular culture espouses emotion in an incontinently romantic and hyper-emetic fashion: think all that TV-sitcom-speak like "being there for you", "emotional intelligence" and "do you do hugs?", think all those fluffy kitten videos on YouTube. But perhaps the biggest problem of all is that the typical popular understanding of what emotions actually are is profoundly misleading. The phenomena we call "emotions" in everyday life - love, hate, joy, jealously, contentment, amazement and so on - would better be called "feelings" because they are our subjective perceptions of our body's response to the emotions proper, which are unconscious, semi-automatic physiological processes (and far fewer in number than the feelings by which describe their combined effects).

We could revive the archaic term "passions", as used by Spinoza and Hume, to describe these physiological emotions, but that doesn't help much because "passionate" has been co-opted into everything from yoghurt to hairspray advertising. The scientific study of these emotions is called affective neuroscience, and one of its most stimulating and controversial practitioners is the Estonian-American psychobiologist Jaak Panksepp. I can't go into great detail here, but I've written in more depth in this yet-to-be published book chapter. To summarise very, very briefly, all mammals share seven or eight emotional subsystems whose evolutionary roles concern those behavioural basics fight, flight, fornication, play and bonding (the latter crucial to mammals whose offspring are wholly dependent on suckling). These subsystems are located throughout the brain's limbic system and get triggered by the amygdala when it recognises dangerous, sexy or whatever perceptual stimuli. Each subsystem works via a different set of hormones and neurotransmitters, flooding them into the brain and bloodstream so effects are felt throughout the body. This happens automatically and is difficult, often impossible, to resist through conscious will.    

Panksepp calls these fundamental systems SEEK, CARE, LUST, PLAY, FEAR, RAGE, PANIC (others might add DISGUST). The SEEK or expectancy system evolved to govern foraging behaviour. It causes our feeling of satisfaction whenever some goal is achieved by releasing dopamine as a reward. It's implicated in almost all learning behaviour, induces curiosity and motivation but is also responsible for addictions. RAGE, FEAR and LUST trigger aggression, flight and sexuality, mediated by adrenaline, noradrenaline, the various sex hormones and stress hormones like cortisol. CARE and PANIC are two sides of the mammalian parent/child bond: PANIC is that special deep anxiety displayed by young mammals when separated from their mother, while CARE drives her to protect them. Both work through oxytocin, vasopressin, prolactin, brain opioids and probably more yet to be discovered. PLAY drives young animals to rehearse important adult behaviours like social etiquette, fighting and fleeing without causing physical harm (humans, dogs, cats and many other mammals retain its influence as adults). DISGUST causes recoil from unpleasant and dangerous stimuli and is present in most higher animals, not just mammals: in humans it controls our vomiting reflex and is partly regulated by serotonin. The hypothesis is that all our more complex feelings are ultimately driven by these elementary subsystems, working together in various combinations with other bodily processes. The neuroscientist Antonio Damasio argues further that memories get labelled with the emotional state prevailing at the time they were laid down, and that these labels are retrieved and processed whenever we remember, which is why emotion and reason are inextricably intertwined.  

Congratulations if you're still reading after all that biochemistry, but I am struggling towards a political point. In his recent book On Deep History and the Brain, Harvard historian Daniel Lord Smail shows how recent discoveries in affective neuroscience can impinge on the social sciences. He starts from the fact that we're social animals, and that in all social species the context upon which evolutionary selection operates ceases to be "raw" nature alone but includes society and culture. Individuals try to modify the emotional states of others in ways likely to be either socially or individually beneficial. Among ants and bees, and perhaps even lower primates like baboons, such interaction is almost entirely mediated by pheromones (which operate between us too but aren't yet well understood). Human societies employ artefacts, rituals and institutions to release hormones that modify both our own and other peoples' behaviour, in ways beyond voluntary control. Dancing and other courting rituals increase the chance of mating (aka "pulling") through vasopressin and testosterone. Religious services induce trance-like states (serotonin and norepinephrine) that provoke anything from spontaneous preaching to signing up as a suicide bomber. Sporting events promote bonding among our side, rage against theirs, as well as play. And from baboons and chimps, to mediaeval robber barons and Iraqi car bombers, terror has proven effective at subduing and subjugating its victims, thanks to the debilitating effect of the stress hormone cortisol. Why else were most of the traded commodities crucial to the early development of capitalism - like spices, sugar, opium - to do with pleasure, and why are alcohol, drugs and tobacco still so subject to political interference?

Many people on the Left instinctively take against neuroscience, in reaction to the crudely reductionist way it's being used in the mainstream media. I believe we should instead embrace its findings as part of a multi-layered explanation of the way individual behaviour gets aggregated into political force. Materialist explanations of mind need not be reductionistic, while attempting to exclude or traduce the effect of mind in politics and economics - as vulgar Marxists, behaviourists and free market economists have done - just produces disaster after disaster. Keynes lead the way to putting emotion in its proper place, but since then contemporary scholars like Steven Jay Gould, Jared Diamond, Frans de Waal, Jaak Panksepp and Antonio Damasio have made valuable contributions that we need to assimilate.

All these considerations push me to suggest that the conquest of Fear needs to be placed at the very centre of any programme to lift the world out of its current crisis: a programme that's notably lacking from otherwise-admirable movements like Occupy. Such a programme could seek to re-deploy and re-regulate the institutions of both state and private industry to free us from:

Fear of starvation
Fear of homelessness
Fear of illness
Fear of discrimination
Fear of false imprisonment
Fear of torture
Fear of war
Fear of crime

We need to adopt a language of what Isaiah Berlin called "negative freedoms" in place of the positive "rights" that occupy most current Left thinking, and to shift the debate from the sole terrain of the economic where it's been trapped for the last 30 years. For example, don't promise absolute equality of income, but resist granting employers greater freedom to fire. Negative freedoms can be more concisely stated (and breaches more easily recognised) than positive ones. Rather than listing everything that's permitted of right, let everything not explicitly forbidden be permitted. Negative freedoms leave more open space for personal autonomy: the state can't and shouldn't guarantee freedom from embarassment, irritation or boredom. Anton Chekhov's famous credo "My holy of holies is the human body, health, intelligence, talent, inspiration, love, and absolute freedom – freedom from violence and falsehood, no matter how the last two manifest themselves" displays a similar spirit: positive virtues whose equality cannot be guaranteed, alongside mandatory negative freedoms.
 

Mustn't Grumble!

Compulsory optimism is an important feature of many social systems: in the Catholic church it's the "Hope" in Faith, Hope and Charity; in the army it's called "morale"; in the nation-state it's called patriotism. Its opposites are not mere intellectual pessimism but "despair" (a Deadly Sin), "defeatism" (a shooting offence under both Hitler and Stalin) and in more recent times "negativity". All of these formulations serve the same purpose, which is to quench criticism of the status quo. Until fairly recently however it hasn't been too prominent a feature of liberal democracies, precisely because a democracy must always remain open to critics. To be sure conservatives will often deploy terms like "moaning minny" as a straw-man when combating leftwing critics, but it's always remained a rhetorical device without any material sanction attached. That's why I was so fascinated by an excellent Short Cuts column in a recent London Review of Books (Vol. 35 No. 1, 3 January 2013) in which senior editor Paul Myerscough dissects the peculiar and disturbing case of the Pret A Manger sacking.

In brief, Andrej Stopa, a Czech student, was fired from the St Pancras branch of the fast-food chain Pret A Manger (in London's York Way) last September, ostensibly on the grounds of homophobic comments he's alleged to have made almost a year earlier to a work colleague. The fact that Stopa had been active, two weeks before his sacking, in setting up the independent Pret A Manger Staff Union (Pamsu) appears to be merely coincidental. Myerscough goes on to describe the work ethos at Pret A Manger, which has a distinctly New Age tinge to it:

Pret will have been disappointed to discover that any of its staff were unhappy enough in their work to have want of a union. Pret workers aren’t supposed to be unhappy. They are recruited precisely for their ‘personality’, in the sense that a talent show host might use the word. Job candidates must show that they have a natural flair for the ‘Pret Behaviours’ (these are listed on the website too). Among the 17 things they ‘Don’t Want to See’ is that someone is ‘moody or bad-tempered’, ‘annoys people’, ‘overcomplicates ideas’ or ‘is just here for the money’. The sorts of thing they ‘Do Want to See’ are that you can ‘work at pace’, ‘create a sense of fun’ and are ‘genuinely friendly’. The ‘Pret Perfect’ worker, a fully evolved species, ‘never gives up’, ‘goes out of their way to be helpful’ and ‘has presence’. After a day’s trial, your fellow workers vote on how well you fit the profile; if your performance lacks sparkle, you’re sent home with a few quid.

I was rather taken aback by such a blatant outbreak of compulsory optimism and so I dashed straight off to Pret's website to make sure Myerscough wasn't exaggerating. I drew a blank because, although the page "The Pret Behaviours" is still listed on the navigation menu, the page appears to have been removed (one wonders whether as a result of Myerscough's article). Further along in Myerscough's piece he explains the most unusual bonus system the company employs:

    To guard against the possibility of Pret workers allowing themselves to behave even for a moment as if they were ‘just here for the money’, the company maintains a panoptical regime of surveillance and assessment. Not only do workers watch each other, chivvying, cajoling, competing, high-fiving; they are also watched. Mystery shoppers visit every branch of Pret A Manger every week. If their reports are positive – more than 80 per cent of them are – the entire staff gets a bonus that week. Workers cited for ‘going the extra mile’ get a further £50 in cash, which they have to distribute among their colleagues. But if the mystery shopper happens to be served by someone momentarily off their game, who may be named and shamed in the report, no one gets rewarded. The bonus is significant, £1 per hour for the week’s work, upping the starting salary of £6.25 (just higher than the UK minimum wage of £6.19) by 16 per cent.

Now I've recently finished reading Daniel Kahneman's seminal work on economic psychology, "Thinking, Fast and Slow", and that trick of getting the bonus receivers to distribute their £50 among their colleagues sounds exactly like the sort of games that Kahneman devises in his lab when probing the human perception of fairness. Indeed Pret's personnel policy is impeccably modern in making maximum use of that most emetic of modern concepts, "emotional intelligence". It's the very model of David Cameron's socially-responsible capitalist company. Not only is it solicitous of the feelings of its customers, who must not be annoyed by moody or bad-tempered staff, but it demands that staff be happy themselves, which is best achieved by neither worrying about money nor dwelling on any "over-complicated" ideas (presumably ones like Keynesian economics or god forbid, Marxism).

This phenomenon, which is by no means confined to Pret A Manger, poses an interesting paradox for moaning minny social critics like me, because concern for the welfare of employees looks very like the sort of policy that the Left has always supported, and in many of its aspects it seems to be adhering to the strictures of Political Correctness (PC for short) which is usually supposed to be an agenda of the Left. Another odd symptom is that pseudo-PC attitudes have been professed from the political Right during several recent scandals, from the rape charges against Julian Assange and Dominique Strauss-Kahn to the recent call by a government minister, Lynne Featherstone, for the Observer to sack Julie Burchill for offending transsexuals.

Now analysing the origins and nature of the PC attitude has fascinated me for many years. When David Robins and I were writing Cool Rules: Anatomy of an Attitude we were quite certain that PC and Cool shared some common origin, but were not able quite to analyse how they diverged into almost completely opposite attitudes. We had linked Cool firmly to consumption - it wholly aestheticises life by elevating taste and the possession of Cool artefacts into a supreme virtue. (A paradigm case is of course the recent history of the late Steve Jobs' Apple Corp and its shiny products, whose ascent to glory came just too late for our book). What if Political Correctness is merely the same psychic process but applied to production rather than consumption, the aestheticisation of the workplace by removing from it all the grit and friction (ie. class struggle)? The connecting concept between PC and Cool is perhaps Authenticity, the highest virtue of both. Paul Myerscough points up this connection in his article:

    ‘The authenticity of being happy is important,’ a Pret manager tells the Telegraph, ‘customers pick up on that.’ It isn’t clear which is the more demanding, authenticity or performance, being it or faking it, but in either case it’s difficult to believe that there isn’t something demoralising, for Pret workers perhaps more than most in the high street, not only in having their energies siphoned off by customers, but also in having to sustain the tension between the performance of relentless enthusiasm at work and the experience of straitened material circumstances outside it.

In other words, back in the bad old days workers could moan, gripe and fake it at work while reserving all their authenticity for life outside the workplace. Now service employers are demanding some of that authenticity for their own time, extracting a kind of value that's crucial for any service-oriented company, namely authentic (and hence believable) niceness toward the paying customers. In a service industry negativity actually reduces productivity and so it can be seen as a form of Thorstein Veblen's "sabotage", as I discussed in a recent post on this blog.

It's hardly surprising if compulsory optimism increasingly creeps out of the workplace and into everday life: I find myself encountering more and more people who wear its fixed manic smile, and become visibly uncomfortable with any negative or critical conversation. Depression has become the industrial disease of later consumer capitalism - affecting 8-12% of the population in any recent year according to The Office for National Statistics - and I think it's at least plausible that compulsory optimism may become also a personal tactic for holding it at bay. The way things are going it feels as though complaining might soon become a recklessly anti-social activity: after The Diggers and The Levellers, perhaps The Grumblers?

Why We Can't Solve Big Problems | MIT Technology Review

I highly recommend this thoughtful piece on technology by the editor-in-chief of the MIT Technology review. Its serious, concerned and informed tone is a very welcome antidote to the vacuous bullshit we're continually  showered with by the spin-doctors of the IT/Communications Complex, and by the frothing ranters of the Republican Billionaire Climate-Change Denier axis:

Why We Can't Solve Big Problems | MIT Technology Review

A New Age of Sabotage

I haven't posted much recently because every time I think of something to say, the extraordinary pace of events makes it sound lame by the next morning: New York under water, Obama re-elected, News International in the dock, rockets falling on Tel Aviv, and that's even before we reach the Mayan apocalypse on Dec 21. However I've finally plucked up courage to wade into the torrent of the miraculous-horrific thanks to a fortunate discovery on the web. In this previous post I confessed an increasing interest in the radical Norwegian-American economist Thorstein Veblen, but that interest was quite narrowly based on reading only three of his works, namely The Theory of the Leisure Class, The Theory of Business Enterprise and his important essay The Socialist Economics of Karl Marx and His Followers. This wasn't just due to laziness but to the difficulty of obtaining many of Veblen's books, which have been out of print for a long time.

But I re-read Veblen's Wikipedia entry all the way to the bottom, and there found links to some recent online editions. The book I'd most wanted was The Engineers and the Price System of 1921, and sure enough there was a link to a free PDF from Batoche Books of Kitchener, Ontario, Canada dated 2001. Reading it was similar to my experience on first reading The Leisure Class — it felt like an important truth about the way society operates that has somehow been lost, obfuscated or concealed from popular consciousness. In Leisure Class that truth was the opposition between predatory and workmanlike economic attitudes, while in The Engineers it's a truth about "sabotage", which Veblen defined as follows:

    “Sabotage” is a derivative of 'sabot' which is French for a wooden shoe. It means going slow, with a dragging, clumsy movement, such as that manner of footgear may be expected to bring on. So it has come to describe any manoeuvre of slowing-down, inefficiency, bungling, obstruction.

[The Engineers and the Price System, p4]

Veblen isn't easy to read because of his repetitious style, his love of playing devil's advocate which can confuse the unwary, and his straight-faced sarcasm which even extends to the terminology he employed ("sabotage" being a perfect example). He appropriates this familiar term and gives it a technical economic meaning broader than, though clearly connected to, its popular usage. He delighted in thus provoking the economic establishment by mocking and ironic use of terms like "idle curiosity" (science), "captains of industry" (business men) and "parental bent" (altruistic behaviour).

So, a partisan dynamiting a railway line, a striking worker who drops a spanner into his machine, or the ISP who throttles your internet feed because you've watched too many movies this month, are all committing sabotage in Veblen's terms. That is, they are deliberately reducing productivity to achieve some definite end. Veblen defined sabotage more succinctly as "conscientious withdrawal of efficiency" and always employed it in a non-pejorative sense, proposing that:

"...the common welfare in any community which is organized on the price system cannot be maintained without a salutary use of sabotage... such restriction of output as will maintain prices at a reasonably profitable level and so guard against business depression".

This amounts to a claim that the "free market", which neoliberals have managed to raise to the status of graven idol over recent decades, is a sham. Pricing has become a science that creates strange paradoxes: you might naively believe that maximum profit would be obtained by producing the largest amount of some highly-desirable commodity, but that's very far from the truth. Most often maximum profit can be achieved by somewhat restricting supply in order to raise its price.

The archetypal case is of course the De Beers family's rigid control over the world supply of diamonds, but the oil industry is a pretty good example too. For most of the 20th century there was always a large surplus of oil reserves, but oil companies wouldn't pump too much because that would lower the price too far. OPEC was set up for no other purpose than to restrict (ie. keep high) the price of oil. The drug pricing policies of the big pharmaceutical companies are equally instructive examples. Contrary to free-market dogma, companies not only do not enjoy competition but very large companies will go to great (sometimes too great) expense to avoid or subvert it. Sabotage is seen at its most blatant in the energy sector, and recently became a source of great embarassment to David Cameron's plucky little band of free-market adventurers, who can only wriggle and smoulder as the energy companies sabotage their chances of re-election through naked profiteering.

For Veblen the problem with using sabotage to control production is not that it's morally wrong, but that it creates unemployment and waste. Whenever you deliberately curtail production to raise prices you tend to thereby employ less labour:

"The mechanical industry of the new order is inordinately productive. So the rate and volume of output have to be regulated with a view to what the traffic will bear — that is to say, what will yield the largest net return in terms of price to the business men who manage the country's industrial system. Otherwise there will be 'overproduction', business depression, and consequent hard times all around. Overproduction means production in excess of what the market will carry off at a sufficiently profitable price. So it appears that the continued prosperity of the country from day to day hangs on a 'conscientious withdrawal of efficiency' by the business men who control the country's industrial output."

Marx thought that capitalism makes overproduction structurally inevitable, because the extraction of surplus value by owners guarantees that total wages paid will be insufficient to purchase all of the product. For Veblen sabotage is capitalism's mechanism for controlling overproduction, and Keynes later added to this that governments could intervene during crises of overproduction to sustain demand via public works and welfare payments — though he conceded that such measures would only delay the problem, which must periodically recur and drive the dreaded boom/bust cycle. Our current global economic crisis is ultimately caused by overproduction, and more particularly by the cheap credit that was freely ladled out to temporarily hold it at bay. The overselling in the USA of cheap mortgages (still too dear to be repaid) prior to 2007 lead directly to contamination of the world financial system by the resulting bad debt, cunningly concealed inside the sugared pills of complex and unfathomable financial derivatives. This contamination has not yet been removed — despite all the quantitative easing and other fiddles employed over the last five years — and can't be without imposing massive losses on banks, investors and bond holders that might sink the whole ship. With banks unwilling to lend and employers unwilling or unable to invest and hire, it would seem that sabotage is becoming the norm, just as it was in the mid-1930s. And the spread of debt contagion to states themselves, in the shape of sovereign debt, renders Keynesian intervention less and less feasible.

So how then could the current crisis be solved? One solution, advanced by some anarchists and Occupy communitarians is to abandon the pricing system altogether and make everything free. Experience teaches that this leads to massive overconsumption (the so-called "tragedy of the commons") and that eventually goods would ration themselves by some other means. Most of those means — like Mao and Stalin's famines, or our post-war rationing — are not nice, worse in fact than the problem. A similar (and equally doomed) illusion, embraced by almost all of the far Left and some of the far Right, is that this crisis will so impoverish the masses as to cause a renaissance of militancy and the eventual overthrow of capitalism, in favour of a planned socialist economy or corporate state. There's little evidence that this is about to happen in Europe or the USA: political involvement is everywhere in decline rather than rising, with all party memberships falling, while the democratic Right is already successfully pitting hard-pressed employed workers against the unemployed, for example by carefully juggling the levels of tax credits and welfare cuts. George Osborne's recent fable about working people going to work in the morning and seeing their lazy, dole-dependent neighbours sleep-in is a perfect example — it twangs the appropriate raw nerves and smothers Labour's attempts to revive an anachronistic class solidarity.   

A return to that semi-stable state of almost-full employment and fairish wages that prevailed for 30 years or so following WWII, by paying employees better within a market economy at the cost of some forgone profitability, might be the most desirable solution but there are reasons to doubt whether most people would actually welcome it. In our book Cool Rules David Robins and I anatomised the profound change of attitude created by the 1960s counterculture, a collapse of the Protestant Work Ethic to be displaced by an outlook based on individualism, hedonism and withdrawal of deference to authority. This collapse of previously prevailing mores applied just as much to the economy as to the rest of the "fabric of society" (the irrational exuberance and cocaine-fuelled greed of the recent financial boom was of a kind with the orgiastic lifestyles of rock and movie stars). Since the '60s the political Right has been seeking to restore older puritanical rules to society in the so-called "culture wars", but not to the economy, whereas the Left would like to restore them to the economy but not to society. It's hard to imagine that any such restoration is possible at all, but if it were then it would have to be for both.

A return to post-war social democracy in the UK seems unlikely then for at least three reasons:
1) It would require repeal of most of Thatcher's anti-union legislation and renewed agitation for higher wages on a massive scale, which no imaginable Labour government is likely to embrace.
2) The Tories' "anti-scrounger" assault proved quite effective at the last election and may too in the next. You may object that they failed to secure a majority and were forced into coalition, but had the crash been pushing popular sentiment to the Left they ought to have done far worse.  
3) Most crucially, it may be that younger generations are adapting to the current casino economy with all its gross inequalities. A most noteable feature of the last three decades' economy has been a decoupling of reward from effort, visible not only in bankers' bonuses and "fat-cat" managers' salaries but also in the lifestyle and remuneration of sportsmen, popular entertainers and other celebrities, lottery winners, not to mention drug dealers and gangsters. Slavoj Žižek analyses this phenomenon through the notion of a "surplus wage" entirely unrelated to productivity, which gets paid to insiders accepted into certain cliques and professions:

"Far from being limited to managers, the category of workers earning a surplus wage extends to all sorts of experts, administrators, public servants, doctors, lawyers, journalists, intellectuals and artists. The surplus takes two forms: more money (for managers etc), but also less work and more free time (for–some–intellectuals, but also for state administrators etc). The evaluative procedure used to decide which workers receive a surplus wage is an arbitrary mechanism of power and ideology, with no serious link to actual competence; the surplus wage exists not for economic but for political reasons: to maintain a ‘middle class’ for the purpose of social stability."

          ["Revolt of the Salaried Bourgeoisie", London Review of Books, Vol 34 No 2, 26th Jan 2012]

It's therefore possible, depressingly, that our current economic stasis and austerity might become a permanent state of affairs. That post-war period of social democracy was a kind of semi-stable equilibrium in which relatively high wages and welfare provision maintained mass consumption and kept overproduction within bounds, but systems as complex as human economies typically exhibit more than one stable or quasi-stable state, at different levels of key parameters. It could be that we've flipped into such an alternative state, a low-wage, welfare-poor economy that's grossly unequal, with a small hyper-rich elite and a bare majority in poorly-paid and insecure employment, but in which many people are sustained by a slim hope of gaining entry to the privileged ranks of the surplus-waged, by hook or by crook, by luck or by nepotism (like winning the lottery, wangling a local government sinecure, starting an internet business or making it in football, writing a hit tune in their back-bedroom or being discovered as a model).

The world already contains many societies that display almost all these features, currently concealed behind robust growth through exporting to us the things we no longer make. I'm referring of course to the BRIC countries (Brazil, Russia, India, China) which many economists applaud and would have us emulate. There are already signs that stagnation in the Northern hemisphere is beginning to curtail their growth, and what remains will look far from pretty. The whole world economy appears to be converging toward a burned-out condition that in some ways resembles a modern feudalism, with huge local concentrations of wealth that foster corruption of the public and favour private fiefdom. (When a star has burned up all its hydrogen and helium it collapses to become a "Red Dwarf", an irony that might not be lost on ex-readers Black Dwarf and Red Mole).

If that hasn't depressed you too far to read any further, there remains the environmental question. Climate-change sceptics of both Right and Left want a resumption of economic growth — in the Right's case to carry on business as usual and in the Left's to repair the partly-dismantled welfare state — while climate-change believers demand zero growth (or less) to avoid catastrophic global warming. The latter might eventually be prepared to accept, even perhaps to welcome, the sort of static and enfeebled economy that is emerging, which would be an instance of sabotage so extreme it would have Thorstein Veblen spinning in his grave. On the bright side, that Mayan apocalypse probably won't happen.