“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man.” (George Bernard Shaw)
U.S. middle class living standards have been more or less stagnant over recent decades, and the same is true in most of the developed world. Inequality has both been a cause and consequence, as whatever economic growth experienced has disproportionately accrued to the social elite. But who exactly are the elite? It really depends on whom we ask. Ambiguity on this question that is at the heart of recent political strife, and crucial to our outlook on progress.
What is progress?
Progress is itself a multi-dimensional concept. For example, we have, over recent centuries, witnessed immense scientific and technological progress. And there is no denying that there has been considerable material progress since the Industrial Revolution, even granted that it was extremely unequal. Many would even argue that in recent decades we have also seen substantial social, racial, and cultural progress.
Here, however, the jury is still out. The tension, conflict, and violence surrounding the Black Lives Matter (BLM) and QAnon movements would appear to signify otherwise. Both are arguably anti-elite movements. But to BLM, the elite stand for privileged, mostly male, whites. To QAnon, in contrast, the elite stand for the conniving socialist Democratic party.
More important, despite continued scientific and material progress, there is growing evidence that it is running into diminishing returns. The rate of impactful scientific discovery has progressively diminished over the past century. And even if you are one of my sporadic readers you are aware of recently reduced economic prospects for the masses. I would argue that it is especially the latter[1] that has contributed to recent intensifying of sociocultural tensions. Historically, diminished material prospects have created reaction, often tumultuous. But I would venture that confusion over what progress signifies – fueled by prevailing ideology – only makes matters worse.
Who are the progressives?
We tend to use the term progressive to signify left-wing or “pro-poor.” But according to late historian Christopher Lasch, such a characterization is misleading because it creates a false schism that is a distraction from a crucial and controversial point on which both main political parties agree. It is the mistaken notion that progress signifies an ever-increasing standard of material consumption. In this view, Reagan, the Bushes, and Trump are “conservatives” in name only.
It is true that, for all their self-righteousness and virtue signaling, many modern Democrats embrace consumerism – perhaps not in word, but in practice. Pro-capitalist Republicans always have. So, both parties seek the comfort of elevated living standards and mass consumption, where material comfort stands in for true political empowerment.
In fact, the modern middle class – or what is left of it – long ago traded political democracy for the consumerist kind. It is what the populist arguably laments. Today, because populism is associated – sometimes correctly – with racism and jingoism, it is considered somewhat of a dirty word. But not all populists are reactionary. Many pine for a greater balance of power between corporate America and the middle and working classes. Others emphasize environmental conservation. Still others, so-called “traditional values.”
Is progress cyclical or linear?
Mark Twain once noted that, while history does not repeat itself, “it often rhymes.” In other words, things tend to occur in cycles, and many lessons in history tend to be replayed in different settings and times. The idea of progress being cyclical rather than linear is in fact an idea that goes back to, among others, ancient Babylon, China, Greece, and Rome.
Even among those eschewing a cyclical understanding of progress, belief in it has become increasingly secularized. While through most of history the presumed terminus to which we all strove was eternal salvation, progress today suggests no obvious endpoint. “More” is simply better. There is, in other words, no best, since we could always have more. The economics axiom of consumer “non-satiation” is symbolic of this modern worldview.
Of course, such a belief in indefinite progress clashes with our common-sense notions of physical or environmental limits. It also presumes – wrongly in my view – that, physical constraints aside, progress is attainable by all. The two problems – an increasingly damaged environment and worsening inequality – are at the heart of most existential challenges faced by humanity in the early twenty-first century.
Elite overproduction
Let’s begin with the (arguably) more remediable of these two problems – inequality. According to quantitative historian (and erstwhile ecologist) Peter Turchin, inequality is both cause and consequence of a phenomenon he describes as “elite overproduction.” He argues that human history advance in “cycles” of approximately 50 years. At the peak of each cycle, society finds itself with too many well-educated or credentialled individuals in relation to the number of elite social positions.
When this happens, Turchin argues, widespread resentment is the result. Those who perceive they were unfairly excluded from positions among the elite revolt against those materially or otherwise more fortunate. This is the lens through which Turchin views the present – in fact through which he accurately prognosticated much of the chaos of the past year. In Turchin’s analysis, we could say that this is why the “privileged” Democrats are under attack by the frustrated and disgruntled Republicans.
And there’s more. Despairing at having been left behind, the “middle class” increasingly enters into debt in order to keep from sliding further. The growing debt position of tens of millions of Americans reinforces the inequality while simultaneously taking the country down the road to insolvency. The three pillars – elite overproduction, growing inequality, and insolvency – undergird Turchin’s cyclical history narrative.
It is important to emphasize that it is cyclical. Despite Turchin’s pessimism –he claims that the next five to ten years will be far worse than the previous one – he does not think that adversity is necessarily here to stay. As in the past, he thinks that historical forces can cycle back and return us to a period of relative prosperity. I personally find this part somewhat unconvincing. But I also must concede that I am not sufficiently versed in his methods to rebut him.
Complexity: Collapse or Simplification?
Others do not subscribe to a cyclical view of history and human progress. According to archaeologist Joseph Tainter, past civilizations always relied on increased complexity to deal with their short-term problems. The benefits to a more complex society invariably exceeded the costs, but only up to a point. Invariably, civilizations – from the Minoans to the Romans to the Maya – eventually succumb to excess bureaucracy and diminishing returns.
Nowhere in Tainter’s writings does he suggest that the modern world faces a similar reckoning. In fact, in Collapse of Complex Societies, his most famous work, he explicitly cautions against such a leap. Regardless, the connection is far too tempting to ignore.
Outright collapse is what, according to Tainter, happens when a civilization overextends and fails to apply the brakes. I am no historian, but it does not take one to understand that after centuries of expansion, the Roman Empire lacked the wherewithal to sustain its continued expansionary pretensions. It spread itself increasingly thin, until eventually it was overrun by external forces.
So, total collapse is one “option.” Yet Tainter contrasts such experiences with that of Byzantium, which delayed its own collapse for centuries by utterly “simplifying” its entire social hierarchy. Seeing the writing on the wall, Emperor Constans II cut loose its cultural centers – i.e., cities – allowing them to atrophy, on grounds that they were too expensive to maintain. He then invested in its military defense by compensating soldiers with farmland and, when possible, coinage. Education and progress stagnated. But power and influence were preserved for hundreds of years.
Ok, I know that I’m reducing a very rich and detailed history to its bare bones. Nevertheless, consider the parallels to today. If modern society does not collapse under their own complex machinery and structure, a somewhat unappealing alternative is to regress to a mostly agrarian, primitive, reactionary existence. Dark Ages redux, in other words. Far-fetched? Tomorrow or next year, almost certainly. But in 75-200 years? Hmmm.
A third alternative: Energy subsidies
This brings us back to the more daunting of our contemporary challenges – environmental limits. It is highly likely that the discovery of fossils fuels more than two centuries ago helped fend off either a global economic collapse or a major “simplification.” Not only that, the relative cheapness of the abundant sources of fossil energy helped set in motion historically unprecedented growth in human prosperity.
Most of us, without doubt, prefer to avoid a new dark age, even if it means risking collapse. But according to Tainter and others (most notably Richard Heinberg), eventual collapse can only be avoided by forced simplification or perpetual energy subsidies. Unfortunately, evidence is at best mixed regarding our future ability to power the global economy with increasingly scarce fossil fuels and the likely non-scalable renewable alternatives. Add to this the growing pressure on our environmental sinks, most visible in the form of climate change.
It all brings us back to Lasch, and the false dichotomy between progressives and conservatives. In reality, both sides are “progressive” in that they idealize the future, wanting to perpetually extend the consumerism juggernaut. Hence, for instance, our endless fetishizing of GDP growth. Neither side wants to reckon with the ultimate resource and environmental constraints on such a fantasy.
Some populists, in contrast, sense that all is not well with the modern-day vision of progress. And insofar as it represents an unsustainable degradation of the planet – our source of sustenance – they are correct. And to the extent that it stands for an increasingly monopolized economy concentrating wealth in relatively fewer hands, they are also on the money. The problem with populism concerns remedies, a point to which I return.
Uncertainty, data, and anti-elitism
Both Democratic elites and Republican “anti-elites” desire a consumerist status quo. It is critical to understand that the break between them is cultural, not economic. The controversy over “false” versus “real” facts exemplifies this. But even here, it important not to fall into a false dichotomy. In an increasingly complex world, ironclad “facts” are increasingly elusive.
I am not postmodernist, just to be clear. And I do not take much stock in conspiracy theory, even if I am not naïve enough to believe them all inconceivable. But as any good scientist will tell you, discovery will often open up new, previously unimagined, avenues for research. Not to call to mind Donald Rumsfeld, but the more we know, the more we grow aware of how much we do not know.
Uncertainty is rife. Yes, we have grown increasingly fascinated with quantitative data, but such fascination is, at its core, fear of uncertainty. True scientists, just to be clear, are irreproachable. To the contrary, they revel in uncertainty, since it is often a source of wonder. But the culture of scientism that worships numbers misguides us. William James once said that the scientific worldview “conceals a childish desire for certainty.” While perhaps a bit condescending, his sentiment is not wrong.
In fact, to today describe it as “childish” is underselling the argument. Pretending to know more than we do – when, with growing complexity, the opposite is the case – is nothing sort of dangerous. So, if you reckon me anti-elitist, it is not because I believe that the mainstream media peddle in “false facts” – though they sometimes might. It is because our leaders should not be denying uncertainty and downplaying complexity. They should embrace both and welcome dissenting opinions. It is the only way to seriously confront such formidable challenges as climate change, public health risks, AI dangers, and the demographic implosion.
U.S. politics today
It is hard not to have felt relieved to see the inauguration ceremony of President Joseph Biden. Compared to the chaos and insanity that preceded it, the new administration, for all its lack of energy and drama, is a refreshing and hopeful transformation. And even more cheerfully, the Republican party itself appears to be in disarray. The much hoped more ebbing of Trump’s influence following his departure has not materialized.
While Trump himself is a pampered plutocrat, much of his base is populist at its core. Yet populism, we must note, can contain both right and leftwing elements. Perhaps some five to ten percent of Trump’s 71 million voters are racist. But keep in mind that millions of Trump supporters previously had voted for Obama. Others were initially Sanders supporters. Most have reasons to support Trump that have nothing to do with race, some more defensible than others.
The schism in today’s Republican party, in my view, comes from incompatibility between progressivism and populism. The first want a restoration of business as usual – i.e., consumerism, growth, and capitalism. The second, although more diverse in its leanings, wants a return to simpler times and all it would entail – “family values,” a cleaner environment, and a better shot at a solid middle-class existence.
I am no Republican, and racism, sexism, and other forms of insult to humanity disgust me. But “progressivism” defined as an endless quest for consumerist bliss is enough to make me want to reevaluate conservatism.
Imagining antidotes to progress
Let’s keep in mind that progress is almost by definition desirable. What we seek an antidote for is the Western usurpation of this idea, crystalized in a seemingly endless cycle of material production and consumption. Not only is progress so much more, but it is also emphatically not that.
Some right-wing populists want to turn back the clock. We should resist doing so. Yet how can we imagine things differently going forward?
Ralph Waldo Emerson once said that “virtue is heedless of personal safety and comfort.” For too long, American culture and ideology has indeed placed a premium on comfort at the expense of nearly all else. It is always an unwelcome message, but one that Americans appear increasingly open to hearing. Biden’s success might depend on his ability to communicate it. I believe that he is off to a good start.
As I’ve stressed in other posts, there is reason for hope. Humanity probably already has the technology and expertise to promote a modest existence for all humans with a much-diminished environmental impact. Related, we have the ability either to restore the dignity of work or to sustainably increase available leisure time – or both!
All the above require the political will to sacrifice consumerism. It is on this one key point that populists may hold the cards.
[1] Although it is likely that diminished economic expectations are related to recent absence of “game changing” scientific discovery – breakthroughs on par with, say, electricity, indoor plumbing, etc.