[This is a version of a joint review of new books by Patrick Deneen and Bernie Sanders which I have written for Current, and which follows up on my previous, more in-depth review of Deneen's book here.]
Over the past few months, two books calling
for a radical transformation of America’s socio-economic and political status
quo have been published. One of the was written by a man long associated with
conservative arguments and publications, but really isn’t, in my judgment, a conservative
book at all; the other was written by a man long associated with democratic
socialism, but his socialist arguments incorporate, in my view, a conservative
sentiment which the first book frequently invokes but provides few concrete
arguments in support of. Insofar as actual intellectual arguments are concerned,
the first book, Patrick Deneen’s Regime Change, is the better one. But if
one genuinely wishes to understand and develop responses to the harms of state
capitalism and liberal statism, responses which are grounded "conservatively" in the collective
achievements and socio-economic struggles which actually exist today, then Bernie
Sanders’s much more conventional book, It’s Okay to Be Angry About Capitalism,
is, I think, nonetheless the wiser one.
Deneen’s book extends upon
his earlier work Why
Liberalism Failed, a book that received much praise for its description
of the philosophical flaws of liberal individualism which have led to social
discontent and cultural breakdown. Deneen ended Why Liberalism Failed
suggesting the need for “patient encouragement of new forms of community that
can serve as havens in our depersonalized political and economic order,” which
situated that book firmly within a long tradition of conservative complaints about
and localist responses to our liberal order. Regime Change, however,
dismisses with that Burkean prudential sentiment; embracing the idea that “conservatism”
(at least the conservatism of the 19th and 20th
centuries) partakes of liberalism’s sins, Deneen insists that the “postliberal”
future he thinks inevitable requires an “epic theory” which would challenge the
roots of the modern order entirely, so as to recover or rebuild something more
authentically natural.
A central component of the
epic theory laid out in Regime Change is a wholesale rejection of the
egalitarianism which has evolved over the centuries since the Protestant
Reformation, having transformed (in ways Deneen presents as almost entirely
negative) the manner in which we moderns mostly understand such ancient concepts
as “democracy” or “rights.” For Deneen, the demos deserves
respect, but not the right to actually, directly, govern itself. Deneen’s more natural political order would be a postliberal
in the sense that it would unapologetically look to the cultivation of an elite
“few” who, having been trained in the responsibility to exemplify for the “many”
proper rulership, would be able to establish laws that reflected collective norms—both
cultural and economic (though, on the basis of the pages spent exploring them
in RC, much more the former than the latter)—rather than individual
interests as manifest through some kind of social contract. The
resulting “mixed regime”—meaning one that would balance the ambitions and
abilities of the few with the many’s presumed longing for stability—would, in
his view, be able to address the challenges of collective life in a manner both
virtuous and non-alienating, unlike what liberalism has given us. He calls this
“common good conservatism,” but just what it would be conserving—aside from those
particular moral and cultural customs which Deneen thinks the working classes
ought to be living in accordance with, even when they, in fact, choose not to—is unclear.
There is a great deal more
in Deneen’s rich—and
I think dangerous—book, but that is the gist of its ambitious,
revolutionary, and decidedly unconservative, at least dispositionally speaking,
argument. Reviewers more aligned with America's conservative movements than myself
(Jon D. Schaff, Adam
Smith, Ross
Douthat, and others), operating with the assumption that, as Smith put it, “the
question is not whether there will be an elite, but whether it will be a good
one,” are less troubled
than I by Deneen’s willingness to invoke an idealized natural hierarchy of a
pre-Protestant Reformation, pre-liberal Europe as his postliberal guide. But
however seriously one takes Deneen’s diagnosis, the fact remains that he sees
himself accomplishing this attack on our present managerialist and statist
status quo in the name of what he holds to be the common interests of the people,
something which “aristopopulism” is necessary to achieve.
It’s Okay to Be
Angry About Capitalism is similarly filled with ambitious, radical ideas,
but it has no such revolutionary gist to it, at least not one which is laid out
in such a way as to organize the book’s somewhat rambling arguments. Sanders
is, of course, a politician, not a theorist—but he is a politician who, over
his career, done more to mainstream the idea that capitalism as it presently
operates isn’t a natural or virtuous arrangement of affairs, and to therefore
get broad numbers of not-otherwise-radical people to think critically about
alternatives. As I wrote about Sanders before, “[Sanders’s] greatest accomplishment wasn’t helping make the
Democratic party more comfortable with certain (re-named!) democratic socialist
ideas but rather helping bring into the mainstream a fruitful mess of
radicalisms, all of which are busy promoting their own alternative
democratizing visions…. Bernie Sanders failed to win the presidency, but he
didn’t fail to fertilize, with his words and actions, long moribund ideas in
America.” It’s Okay to Be Angry shows off the fruit of such fertilization,
taking on health care, Wall Street, college education, Fox News, and much more.
Those looking
for a thoughtful democratic socialist critique of the liberal capitalist state
will not find one in the pages of Sanders’s book, especially since more than a
third of the book is an interesting but not especially deep rehearsal of the
greatest hits of Sanders’s political career and campaigns over the Trump years,
and much of the rest reflects a progressive liberalism rather than something
explicitly rooted in the visions of his hero, union leader and Socialist Party
presidential candidate Eugene Debs. But a close reader will see, nonetheless, a
focus on productive work which arguably brings a critical unity to Sanders’s
case against the “oligarchs” and “billionaires” and the “über-capitalist system.” It is this focus which positions Sanders’s book as
a wiser radical response to the problems of today than Deneen’s anti-egalitarian,
“aristopopulist” suppositions.
Deneen writes often in Regime Change about “the many” or “commoners” or “the working class,”
at times criticizing them as “far less likely to exhibit certain
kinds of virtues related to marriage, family, work, and criminality than the
‘elites’ that they often disdain,” yet nonetheless repeatedly positing them as
a non-aspirant, non-managerial loadstone, “more likely to be grounded in the
realities of a world of limits and natural processes, in tune with the cycle of
life and rhythms of seasons, tides, sun and stars.” That is, Deneen presents those
who do practical, material work for living as a static category, a necessary
component within a healthy society, but not an actual agent within it. Whereas
for Sanders, practical, material work—whether in a factory or a classroom or a
farm or an office—is connected to an active democratic dignity, and directly
contrasted to those financial elites whose wealth is tied to the flow of the
economy itself, rather than to its productive results. Sanders writes,
reflecting upon his youthful experience on a agricultural commune in Israel:
Work, to a
large degree, defines who we are, what our social status is, and who our
friends are….I don’t pretend to understand everything about human nature but I
believe that, very deep in the souls of most people, is a desire to be part of
their community to and contribute to its well-being. People want to be
productive and have a positive impact on the lives of their families….While the
world has obviously changed a lot since that kibbutz was created in the 1930s
and since I worked there in the 1960s, what has not changed is the sense of
empowerment that grows with working people are treated not as “employees,” but
as “owners” who share a responsibility for defining the scope and character of
their jobs. The sense of community and worker-empowerment that existed there
was something that I have never forgotten. It confirmed my view that there are
many ways to organize workplaces, and that we have a responsibility to identity
the models that respect workers as human beings, and allow them to realize
their full potential….Whether someone is working on a farm, or in an automobile
factory, hospital, or school, or delivering mail or writing a book, they want
to know that what they do is meaningful and appreciated. They want to have a
say about the nature of their work and how it is done….Is it really too much,
in the twenty-first century, in the wealthiest country on earth, to begin
creating an economy in which actually have some power over what they do for forty
hours or more a week?
Deneen is not
entirely silent when it comes to how contemporary capitalism has engendered a financial
globalism which has undermined the community-building power of workers, and
thus contributed to their suffering. As part of the disruptions to the status-quo
which he believes recovering a proper elite would necessitate, he mentions the
importance of empowering unions, giving workers direct say on corporate boards
(in the style of Germany’s Betriebsrat or workers councils), and using tariffs
to slow outsourcing. But those few paragraphs pale beside the long sections
devoted to attacking the moral individualism engrained in the policies of the liberal
state, and the need to construct a postliberal elite that would model a
community consciousness that would lift workers up.
Sanders, by
contrast, goes far beyond Deneen’s acknowledged need to strengthen unions and increase
the presence of workers on corporate boards, pushing the radical idea of a social
reconstruction of the deeply dysfunction distribution of working
opportunities and wages in the wealthiest country in the world, something which
Deneen, for all his talk about disrupting the system, never really considers.
Sanders, when he can pull himself out of the legislative bubble filled with
fights over climate change and infrastructure funding, is clear in wanting to make
a full-employment economy America’s social ideal, by way of guaranteeing
health care, investing in environmentally sustainable work, redistributing
wealth, closely regulating financial actors, increasing taxes on powerful
financial interests, easing the creation of worker cooperatives, and much more.
Admittedly, his invocation of this ideal somethings draws him back into just reciting
a laundry list of government programs, in classic progressive liberal statist fashion.
But sometimes he is able to see beyond this; sometimes he is able to break
through the partisan cant which has been second nature for him for more than 40
years, and talk about the goal of economic democracy—a change which he believes
(I think correctly) would enable people within their families and communities
to find themselves in alignment with a more virtuous “regime.” While not a
religious man, Sanders’s collective vision of higher stage in the democratic
evolution of capitalist state is, as
I’ve noted elsewhere, downright Pentecostal:
If we accept that the truth will set us free, then we need
to face some hard truths about American oligarchs. This country has reached a
point in its history where it must determine whether we truly embrace the
inspiring words in our Declaration of Independence, “that all men are created
equal” and “endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights”….We have
to decide whether we take seriously what the great religions of the
world—Christianity, Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, and others—have
preached for thousands of years. Do we believe in the brotherhood of man and
human solidarity? Do we believe in the Golden Rule that says each and every one
of us should “do unto other as you would have them do unto you”? Or do we
accept, as the prevailing ethic of our culture, that whoever has the gold rules—and
that lying, cheating, and stealing are OK if you’re powerful enough to be able
to get away with it?
The condemnation of liberalism presented
by Deneen and others, whatever its philosophical insight, leads many to assume
that talk of democratic equality and rights is incompatible with presumably conservative
concepts like “brotherhood” and “solidarity.” To the extent that competitive capitalism presumes that economically empowering individuals can only increase
social alienation, and thus allowing corrupt elites impose their ideology upon
us all, then Deneen’s prescription may make a dangerous degree of sense.
But
Sanders’s arguments, supported as they are by the example of higher levels of
solidarity and public goods in social democratic societies around the world, point
to a different way—a more
“left” way. This way would be truer to Christopher Lasch’s belief in building a
democracy of producers and citizens--a belief which also inspired the teacher,
Wilson Carey McWilliams, to whom Deneen admits he is most indebted for his conception of conservatism.
Maybe the conservative, or communitarian, value of fraternity is something that individuals, in all their liberal diversity, still can and do conceive and build and maintain, when the social and economic space
to do so is offered to them to do; that’s the wise suggestion McWilliams’s daughter,
the political theorist Susan McWilliams Barndt, makes
in response to Deneen’s book. There are large differences between the
content of Deneen’s and Sanders’s radical proposals, but maybe the biggest difference
is simply that Sanders presumes that workers still build communities and
traditions when socially and economically and democratically empowered to do so—whereas
Deneen’s mixed regime seems to presume that such can only be delivered to them from
above.
