Politics

The Perils of Extrapolation

November 18th, 2011  |  Published in Political Economy, xkcd.com/386

So [Kevin Drum](http://motherjones.com/kevin-drum/2011/11/back-chessboard-and-future-human-race) and [Matt Yglesias](http://thinkprogress.org/yglesias/2011/11/17/371098/the-back-half-of-the-chessboard/) have read Erik Brynjolfsson and Andrew McAffee's *Race Against the Machine* e-book, and *both* of them managed to come away impressed by the exact argument that [I identified](http://www.peterfrase.com/2011/10/the-machines-and-us/) as the weakest part of the book's case. Namely, the belief the Moore's law---which stipulates that computer processing power increases at an exponential rate---can be extrapolated into the indefinite future. It's true that Moore's law seems to have held fairly well up to this point; and as Drum and Yglesias observe, if you keep extending it into the future, then pretty soon computing power will shoot up at an astronomically fast rate---that's just the nature of exponential functions. On this basis, Drum predicts that artificial intelligence is "going to go from 10% of a human brain to 100% of a human brain, and it's going to seem like it came from nowhere", while Yglesias more generally remarks that "we’re used to the idea of rapid improvements in information technology, but we’re actually standing on the precipice of changes that are much larger in scale than what we’ve seen thus far."

Let's revisit the problem with this argument, which I laid out in my review. The gist of it is that just because you think you're witnessing exponential progress, that doesn't mean you should expect that same rate of exponential growth to continue indefinitely. I'll turn the mic over to Charles Stross, from whom I [picked up this line of critique](http://www.antipope.org/charlie/blog-static/2007/05/shaping_the_future.html):

> __Around 1950, everyone tended to look at what the future held in terms of improvements in transportation speed.__

> But as we know now, __that wasn't where the big improvements were going to come from. The automation of information systems just weren't on the map__, other than in the crudest sense — punched card sorting and collating machines and desktop calculators.

> We can plot __a graph of computing power against time that, prior to 1900, looks remarkably similar to the graph of maximum speed against time.__ Basically it's a flat line from prehistory up to the invention, in the seventeenth or eighteenth century, of the first mechanical calculating machines. It gradually rises as mechanical calculators become more sophisticated, then in the late 1930s and 1940s it starts to rise steeply. __From 1960 onwards, with the transition to solid state digital electronics, it's been necessary to switch to a logarithmic scale to even keep sight of this graph.__

> It's worth noting that the complexity of the problems we can solve with computers has not risen as rapidly as their performance would suggest to a naive bystander. This is largely because interesting problems tend to be complex, and computational complexity rarely scales linearly with the number of inputs; we haven't seen the same breakthroughs in the theory of algorithmics that we've seen in the engineering practicalities of building incrementally faster machines.

> Speaking of engineering practicalities, I'm sure everyone here has heard of Moore's Law. __Gordon Moore of Intel coined this one back in 1965 when he observed that the number of transistor count on an integrated circuit for minimum component cost doubles every 24 months.__ This isn't just about the number of transistors on a chip, but the density of transistors. A similar law seems to govern storage density in bits per unit area for rotating media.

> As a given circuit becomes physically smaller, the time taken for a signal to propagate across it decreases — and if it's printed on a material of a given resistivity, the amount of power dissipated in the process decreases. (I hope I've got that right: my basic physics is a little rusty.) So we get faster operation, or we get lower power operation, by going smaller.

> We know that Moore's Law has some way to run before we run up against the irreducible limit to downsizing. However, it looks unlikely that we'll ever be able to build circuits where the component count exceeds the number of component atoms, so __I'm going to draw a line in the sand and suggest that this exponential increase in component count isn't going to go on forever; it's going to stop around the time we wake up and discover we've hit the nanoscale limits.__

So to summarize: transportation technology *looked* like it was improving exponentially, which caused people to extrapolate that forward into the future. Hence the futurists and science fiction writers of the 1950s envisioned a future with flying cars and voyages to other planets. But what actually happened was that transportation innovation plateaued, and a completely different area, communications, became the source of major breakthroughs. And that's because, as Stross says later in the essay, "new technological fields show a curve of accelerating progress — until it hits a plateau and slows down rapidly. It's the familiar sigmoid curve."

And as Stross says [elsewhere](http://www.antipope.org/charlie/blog-static/2010/05/unpleasant-medicine.html), "the first half of a sigmoid demand curve looks like an exponential function." This is what he means:

Sigmoid and exponential curves

The red line in that image is an exponential function, and the black line is a sigmoid curve. Think of these as two possible paths of technological development over time. If you're somewhere around that black X mark, you won't really be able to tell which curve you're on.

But I'm inclined to agree with Stross that we're more likely to be on the sigmoid path than the exponential one, when it comes to microprocessors. That doesn't mean that we'll hit a plateau with no big technological changes at all. It's just that, as Stross says in yet [*another* place](http://www.infinityplus.co.uk/nonfiction/intcs.htm):

> New technologies slow down radically after a period of rapid change during their assimilation. However, I can see a series of overlapping sigmoid curves that might resemble an ongoing hyperbolic curve if you superimpose them on one another, each segment representing the period of maximum change as a new technology appears.

Hence economic growth *as a whole* can still look like it's [following an exponential path](http://inpp.ohiou.edu/~brune/gdp/gdp.html).

None of which is to say that I wholly reject the thesis of Brynjolfsson and McAffee's book---see the review for my thoughts on that. In a way, I think Drum and Yglesias are underselling just how weird and disruptive the future of technology will be---it's not just that it will be rapid, but that it will come in areas we can't even imagine yet. But we should be really wary of simply extending present trends into the future---our recent history of speculative economic manias should have taught us that if something [can't go on forever](http://survivalandprosperity.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Shiller-Housing-Bubble-Graph.jpg), it will stop.

The Fog of War and the Case for Knee-jerk Anti-Interventionism

November 10th, 2011  |  Published in Imperialism, Politics, xkcd.com/386

In my last [post on Libya](http://www.peterfrase.com/2011/09/libya-and-the-left/), I took a sort of squishy position: while avoiding a direct endorsement of the NATO military campaign there, I wanted to defend the existence of a genuine internal revolutionary dynamic, rather than dismissing the resistance to Gaddafi as merely the puppets of Western imperialism. I still basically stand by that position, and I still think the ultimate trajectory of Libya remains in doubt. But all that aside, it's important to look back carefully at the run-up to the military intervention. A couple of recent essays have tried to do so---one of them is an exemplary struggle to get at the real facts around the decision to go to war, while the other typifies the detestable self-congratulatory moralizing of the West's liberal warmongers.

The right way to look back on Libya is [this article](http://www.lrb.co.uk/v33/n22/hugh-roberts/who-said-gaddafi-had-to-go) in the *London Review of Books*, which I found by way of Corey Robin. Hugh Roberts, formerly of the International Crisis Group, casts a very skeptical eye on the claims made by the the NATO powers in the run-up to war, and on the intentions of those who were eager to intervene on the side of the Libyan rebels. At the same time, he acknowledges the intolerable nature of the Gaddafi regime and accepts the reality of an internally-generated political resistance that was not merely fabricated by external powers. But rather than accepting the claims of foreign powers at face value, he shows all the ways in which NATO actually managed to subvert the emergence of a real democratic political alternative in Libya, and he leaves me wondering once again whether the revolution would have been better off if it could have proceeded without external interference.

There are a few particularly important points that I want to draw out of Roberts' essay. First, he shows that, in a pattern that is familiar from the recent history of "humanitarian" interventions, many of the claims that were used to justify the imminent necessity of war do not hold up under scrutiny. First, there is the claim that military force had to be used because all other options had been exhausted. As Roberts observes:

> Resolution 1973 was passed in New York late in the evening of 17 March. The next day, Gaddafi, whose forces were camped on the southern edge of Benghazi, announced a ceasefire in conformity with Article 1 and proposed a political dialogue in line with Article 2. What the Security Council demanded and suggested, he provided in a matter of hours. His ceasefire was immediately rejected on behalf of the NTC by a senior rebel commander, Khalifa Haftar, and dismissed by Western governments. ‘We will judge him by his actions not his words,’ David Cameron declared, implying that __Gaddafi was expected to deliver a complete ceasefire by himself: that is, not only order his troops to cease fire but ensure this ceasefire was maintained indefinitely despite the fact that the NTC was refusing to reciprocate.__ Cameron’s comment also took no account of the fact that Article 1 of Resolution 1973 did not of course place the burden of a ceasefire exclusively on Gaddafi. No sooner had Cameron covered for the NTC’s unmistakable violation of Resolution 1973 than Obama weighed in, insisting that for Gaddafi’s ceasefire to count for anything he would (in addition to sustaining it indefinitely, single-handed, irrespective of the NTC) have to withdraw his forces not only from Benghazi but also from Misrata and from the most important towns his troops had retaken from the rebellion, Ajdabiya in the east and Zawiya in the west – in other words, he had to accept strategic defeat in advance. These conditions, which were impossible for Gaddafi to accept, were absent from Article 1.

Whether or not you believe that the Gaddafi side would ever have seriously engaged in negotiations over a peaceful settlement, or whether you think such negotiations would have been preferable to complete rebel military victory, it seems clear that the NATO powers never really gave them the chance. This is reminiscent of what happened prior to the bombing of Serbia in 1999: NATO started bombing after claiming that Serbia refused a peaceful settlement of the Kosovo conflict. What actually happened was that NATO presented the Serbs with a "settlement" that would have [given NATO troops](http://www.inthesetimes.com/projectcensored/ackerman2317new.html) the right to essentially take control of Serbia. The Serbs understandably objected to this, though they were willing to accept international peacekeepers. But this wasn't enough for NATO, and so it was bombs away.

A second element of the brief for the Libya war that Roberts highlights is the peculiar case of the imminent Benghazi massacre. Recall that among the war's proponents, it was taken as accepted fact that, when NATO intervened, Gaddafi's forces were on the verge of conducting a genocidal massacre of civilians in rebel-held Benghazi, and thereby snuffing out any hope for the revolution. Here is what Roberts has to say about that:

> Gaddafi dealt with many revolts over the years. He invariably quashed them by force and usually executed the ringleaders. The NTC and other rebel leaders had good reason to fear that once Benghazi had fallen to government troops they would be rounded up and made to pay the price. So it was natural that they should try to convince the ‘international community’ that it was not only their lives that were at stake, but those of thousands of ordinary civilians. But in retaking the towns that the uprising had briefly wrested from the government’s control, Gaddafi’s forces had committed no massacres at all; the fighting had been bitter and bloody, but there had been nothing remotely resembling the slaughter at Srebrenica, let alone in Rwanda. The only known massacre carried out during Gaddafi’s rule was the killing of some 1200 Islamist prisoners at Abu Salim prison in 1996. This was a very dark affair, and whether or not Gaddafi ordered it, it is fair to hold him responsible for it. It was therefore reasonable to be concerned about what the regime might do and how its forces would behave in Benghazi once they had retaken it, and to deter Gaddafi from ordering or allowing any excesses. But that is not what was decided. What was decided was to declare Gaddafi guilty in advance of a massacre of defenceless civilians and instigate the process of destroying his regime and him (and his family) by way of punishment of a crime he was yet to commit, and actually unlikely to commit, and to persist with this process despite his repeated offers to suspend military action.

Roberts goes on to cast doubt on one of the specific claims of atrocity against Gaddafi: that his air force was strafing protestors on the ground. This claim was widely propagated by media like Al-Jazeera and liberal war-cheerleaders like Juan Cole, but Roberts finds no convincing evidence that it ever actually occurred. Reporters who were in Libya didn't get reports of it, nor is there any photographic evidence---this despite the ubiquity of cell-phone camera footage in the wave of recent uprisings. The evaporation of the sensational allegation calls to mind the run-up to yet another war: the first Gulf War, when the invasion of Iraq was sold, in part, by way of a [thoroughly made up](http://www.csmonitor.com/2002/0906/p25s02-cogn.html) story about Iraqi troops ripping Kuwaiti babies out of incubators and leaving them to die.

Beyond revealing the weakness of the empirical case for war, Roberts also highlights something I hadn't really thought of before: the way the West's case for intervention promotes an anti-political and undemocratic framing of the conflict that has a lot in common with the sort of anti-ideological elite "non-partisanship" that I [wrote about](http://www.peterfrase.com/2011/10/polarization-and-ideology/) a couple of weeks ago in the context of domestic politics. Roberts observes that the NATO powers portrayed themselves as the defenders of an undifferentiated "Libyan people" rather than partisans taking one side in a civil war. By doing so, they short-circuited the development of a real political division within Libyan society, a development that in itself was a desirable process:

> __The idea that Gaddafi represented nothing in Libyan society, that he was taking on his entire people and his people were all against him was another distortion of the facts.__ As we now know from the length of the war, the huge pro-Gaddafi demonstration in Tripoli on 1 July, the fierce resistance Gaddafi’s forces put up, the month it took the rebels to get anywhere at all at Bani Walid and the further month at Sirte, Gaddafi’s regime enjoyed a substantial measure of support, as the NTC did. __Libyan society was divided and political division was in itself a hopeful development since it signified the end of the old political unanimity enjoined and maintained by the Jamahiriyya.__ In this light, the Western governments’ portrayal of ‘the Libyan people’ as uniformly ranged against Gaddafi had a sinister implication, precisely because it insinuated a new Western-sponsored unanimity back into Libyan life. This profoundly undemocratic idea followed naturally from the equally undemocratic idea that, in the absence of electoral consultation or even an opinion poll to ascertain the Libyans’ actual views, the British, French and American governments had the right and authority to determine who was part of the Libyan people and who wasn’t. No one supporting the Gaddafi regime counted. Because they were not part of ‘the Libyan people’ they could not be among the civilians to be protected, even if they were civilians as a matter of mere fact. And they were not protected; they were killed by Nato air strikes as well as by uncontrolled rebel units. The number of such civilian victims on the wrong side of the war must be many times the total death toll as of 21 February. But they don’t count, any more than the thousands of young men in Gaddafi’s army who innocently imagined that they too were part of ‘the Libyan people’ and were only doing their duty to the state counted when they were incinerated by Nato’s planes or extra-judicially executed en masse after capture, as in Sirte.

It's possible, after reading all of Roberts' essay, to remain convinced that the NATO attack was a lesser evil on balance, and to retain some optimism about the future trajectory of Libya. But he nevertheless provides an important reminder of just why it's so important to beware of Presidents bearing "humanitarian" interventions. The liberal war-mongering crowd likes to deride those of us who bring strongly anti-interventionist biases into these debates, on the grounds that we are irrationally prejudiced against the United States, or against the possible benefits of war. But in the immediate prelude to war, such biases are in fact entirely rational, precisely because the real dynamics on the ground are so murky and hard to determine, and the arguments used to justify intervention so often turn out to be illusory after the fact.

This reality does not, however, prevent the liberal hawk faction from coming out with some triumphant breast-beating and score-settling when their little war looks to be a "success". Michael Berube has a [new essay](http://www.thepointmag.com/2011/politics/libya-and-the-left) in this genre, and it's terrible in all the ways the Roberts essay is excellent. In both tone and content, it's a shameful piece of writing, and Berube should be embarrassed to have written it---but since it placates the tortured soul of the liberal bombardier, he is instead [hailed](http://www.juancole.com/2011/11/berube-on-libya-and-the-left.html) as a brave and sophisticated thinker.

Berube argues that opponents of the war in Libya are fatally flawed by a "manichean" approach to foreign policy: rather than appreciate the nuances of the situation in Libya, he claims, opponents of the war lazily fell back on "tropes that have been forged over the past four decades of antiwar activism". These tropes, says Berube, are an impediment to forging "a rigorously *internationalist* left in the U.S., a left that will promote and support the freedom of speech, the freedom to worship, the freedom from want, and the freedom from fear—even on those rare and valuable occasions when doing so puts one in the position of supporting U.S. policies."

This is, I suppose, an improvement on Michael Walzer's call for a "decent" left (where "decency" consists of an appropriate deference to U.S. imperial propaganda). But as the Roberts essay shows, the pro-war faction are on shaky ground when they accuse others of relying on a ritualized set of tropes: the imminent humanitarian disaster and the impossibility of a non-military solution are themselves the repetitive--and routinely discredited--way in which war is sold to those who consider themselves liberals and internationalists. The eagerness of people like Berube to pick up on any thinly-sourced claim that vindicates the imminence and necessity of bombs suggests that the case for humanitarian intervention has become increasingly routinized as the Libyas, Iraqs, and Serbias pile up.

And it is striking that, in contrast to the careful skepticism of Roberts, Berube simply assumes that NATO action was necessary to prevent imminent catastrophe. In doing so, he evades all the difficult questions that arise in the Roberts essay. He relies, for example, on Juan Cole's refutation of numerous alleged "myths" of the anti-interventionists; among them is the argument that "Qaddafi would not have killed or imprisoned large numbers of dissidents in Benghazi, Derna, al-Bayda and Tobruk if he had been allowed to pursue his March Blitzkrieg toward the eastern cities that had defied him". Berube derides this claim as "bizarre", and indeed it would be if this were actually the argument that any serious party had made. But the argument for intervention was not merely that Gaddafi could potentially have "killed or imprisoned large numbers of dissidents". As Roberts notes, that's the inevitable end result of just about any failed armed rebellion, and imprisonment and killing was probably an unavoidable endgame no matter how matters in Libya were resolved. The victorious rebels, after all, have imprisoned or extrajudicially killed a large number of people on the pro-Gaddafi side, including Gaddafi himself; and that's not to speak of the direct civilian casualties from the actual bombing campaign.

But Berube elides all of this, by implying that those who questioned the predictions of a humanitarian apocalypse were absurdly denying the possibility of *any retaliation at all* against the rebels. Thus, while acknowledging that in principle "the Libya intervention could be subjected to cost/benefit analyses and consequentialist objections", he proceeds to pile up the human costs of non-intervention, while leaving his side of the ledger clear of any of the deaths that resulted from the decision to intervene. This allows him to portray the pro-intervention side as the sole owners of facts and common sense, before launching into his real subject: the perfidy and moral obtuseness of the war's critics.

He finds plenty of juicy targets, because there was indeed some dodgy argumentation on the anti-war side. There was, as there always is, a certain amount of vulgar anti-imperialism that insisted that opposing NATO meant glorifying Gaddafi and dismissing the legitimacy of his opposition. There was, too, an occasional tendency to obsess over the war's legality, even though law in an international context is always rather capricious and dependent on great-power politics. And Berube is clever enough to anticipate the objections to his highlighting of such arguments:

> Those who believe that there should be no enemies to one’s left are fond of accusing me of “hippie punching,” as if, like Presidents Obama and Clinton, I am attacking straw men to my left in order to lay claim to the reasonable, vital center; those who know that I am not attacking straw persons are wont to claim instead that I am criticizing fringe figures who have no impact whatsoever on public debate in the United States. And it is true: on the subject of Libya the usual fringe figures behaved precisely as The Left At War depicts the Manichean Left. Alexander Cockburn, James Petras, Robert Fisk, John Pilger—all of them still fighting Vietnam, stranded for decades on a remote ideological island with no way of contacting any contemporary geopolitical reality whatsoever—weighed in with the usual denunciations of US imperialism and predictions that Libya would be carved up for its oil. And about the doughty *soi-disant* anti-imperialists who, in the mode of Hugo Chavez, doubled down on the delusion that Qaddafi is a legitimate and benevolent ruler harassed by the forces of imperialism, there really is nothing to say, for there can be nothing more damning than their own words.

For the record: yes indeed, Berube *is* engaged in "hippie punching", attacking straw men, and selectively [nutpicking](http://www.slate.com/blogs/weigel/2011/10/21/the_limits_of_nutpicking.html) the worst arguments on the anti-war side. And to what end? As with so much liberal imperialism, it seems that the purpose here is not so much to provide an empirical and political case for the war, as it is to confirm the superior moral sensibility of the warmongers, who are committed to high-minded internationalist ideals while their opponents are mired in knee-jerk anti-Americanism. The conflation of good intentions with good results bedevils liberal politics in all kinds of ways, and nowhere is it more damaging than in the realm of international politics, where morally pure allegiances are difficult to find.

Berube complains that "for what I call the Manichean Left, opposition to U.S. policy is precisely an opposition to entities: all we need to know, on that left, is that the U.S. is involved." To this, he counterposes his rigorous case-by-case evaluation of specific actions, which is indifferent to the identity of the parties involved. But while this is a sound principle in the abstract, Roberts' exposé of the shaky Libya dossier demonstrates why it is so dangerous in practice. Given our limited ability to evaluate, in the moment, the hyperbolic claims made by governments on the warpath, a systematic bias against supporting intervention is the only way to counter-balance what would otherwise be a bias in favor of accepting propaganda at face value, and thereby supporting war in every case. Even if the outcome in Libya turns out to be an exceptional best-case scenario---a real democracy, independent of foreign manipulation---this is insufficient reason to substantially revise a general-purpose anti-interventionist [prior](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prior_probability). And even if the outcome of the NATO campaign has not played out as badly as some anti-war voices predicted, the details of that campaign's marketing only tend to confirm the danger of making confident statements of martial righteousness while enveloped in the fog of war.

Failure Mode

November 2nd, 2011  |  Published in Political Economy, Politics

It's [general strike day](http://zunguzungu.wordpress.com/2011/11/01/the-day-before-the-day-of-action/) in Oakland. I don't really know what to expect---this isn't going to be a true general strike in the sense of completely shutting down the city like [in 1946](http://ufcw324.org/About_Us/Mission_and_History/Labor_History/Oakland_General_Strike__A_Worker%E2%80%99s_Holiday/), but it could still be an exciting step forward. And since I've underestimated the impact of everything that's happened since the beginning of Occupy Wall Street, I won't make any confident predictions until I see what happens in the streets. But one big wild card, once again, is the response of the Mayor and the police.

What's been remarkable about the events in Oakland and elsewhere, so far, is how much they've freaked out and disrupted the political system. For my whole life, it seemed like the governing elite could easily get rid of mass protest through some judicious mixture of ignoring and repressing demonstrators. But that seems not to be working this time. When Michael Bloomberg tried to sweep away the Wall Street occupation under the pretext of "cleaning" the park, he was met with thousands of solidarity protestors and forced to back down. When the Oakland police tried to gas their city's occupation into submission, they not only made a martyr out of Scott Olsen, but felt they had to issue a bizarre [open letter](http://www.opoa.org/uncategorized/an-open-letter-to-the-citizens-of-oakland-from-the-oakland-police-officers%E2%80%99-association/) in which they distanced themselves from their own violent actions. In Albany, the police simply [defied](http://thinkprogress.org/special/2011/10/24/352228/albany-police-defy-orders-and-refuse-to-arrest-occupy-albany-protesters-these-people-were-not-causing-trouble/) the governor and mayor's order to evict protestors. In Tennessee, the state government first tried to dispel protests with mass arrests, but then [declined to defend](http://www.nashvillescene.com/pitw/archives/2011/10/31/state-concedes-defeat-in-occupy-nashville-battle-judge-bans-more-arrests) the policy in the face of a court injunction.

In all these cases, it seems that the system is incapable of handling the appearance of any kind of mass civic participation that doesn't go through the expected channels---and this problem is not limited to the United States. The European Union's attempts to contain its banking crisis are, it seems, not robust to the outbreak of democracy, since Greece's Prime Minister was able to plunge the continent into turmoil by merely threatening to [give his people a say](http://www.salon.com/2011/11/01/greek_bailout_wall_street/) in the current bailout and austerity plan for the country. In Britain, an occupation has [set off crisis](http://www.periscopepost.com/2011/11/occupy-london-claims-another-church-victim-as-knowles-resigns-st-pauls-in-turmoil/) and resignations in the Church of England, while directing uncomfortable attention to the [bizarre and authoritarian structure](http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/oct/31/corporation-london-city-medieval) that runs central London. What's going on here?

A clue, I think, is to be found in a remark that comes near the end of David Graeber's recent [magnum opus on debt](http://mhpbooks.com/books/debt/):

> The last thirty years have seen the construction of a vast bureaucratic apparatus for the creation and maintenance of hopelessness, a giant machine designed, first and foremost, to destroy any sense of possible alternative futures. At its root is a veritable obsession on the part of the rulers of the world . . . with ensuring that social movements cannot be seen to grow, flourish, or propose alternatives; that those who challenge existing power arrangements can never, under any circumstances, be perceived to win.

In this, Graeber is echoing one of my favorite, often-quoted lines from [Fredric Jameson](http://books.google.com/books?id=sPBad_aN0i0C&pg=PA229&dq=jameson+%22hegemonic+ideology+of+the+system%22&hl=en&ei=UwWxTp-4Kc6UOpmvyf4B&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=1&ved=0CCwQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q&f=false): "The mass of people . . . do not themselves have to believe in any hegemonic ideology of the system, but only to be convinced of its permanence." This was the outlook that Margaret Thatcher enunciated in one of her [famous speeches](http://asq.org/learn-about-quality/process-analysis-tools/overview/fmea.html):

> If I could press a button and genuinely solve the unemployment problem, do you think that I would not press that button this instant? Does anyone imagine that there is the smallest political gain in letting this unemployment continue, or that there is some obscure economic religion which demands this unemployment as part of its ritual? This Government are pursuing the only policy which gives any hope of bringing our people back to real and lasting employment.

This outlook is commonly summarized as "There Is No Alternative". From this starting point, one can create a method of rule which does not depend on being positively affirmed or seen as legitimate by most people, but merely requires the resigned assent of a demoralized populace. Thus the rule of the financial elites can continue, even as political legitimacy is [drained out](http://www.peterfrase.com/2011/09/politicizing-the-fed/) of the institutions of government. But if you build a system on the assumption that there will be no dissent and no alternatives, what happens when dissent *does* appear, and begins to articulate alternatives? I submit that we're seeing what happens, in the Occupy Wall Street protests and beyond: the basic fragility and brittleness of neoliberal politics is being exposed. That fragility is analogous to the precariousness of neoliberal economics, and it arises for some of the same reasons.

Contemporary capitalism, we are often told, is characterized by the relentless pursuit of *efficiency*. In one telling, a more efficient economy is one that gets more output out of the same amount of labor and resources. But from another perspective, a streamlined and ultra-efficient economy is one which produces more and faster in normal times, but which can only do so by cutting out the safeguards and redundancies that protect the system from catastrophic failure when things go bad. Thus the global economy becomes simultaneously more dynamic and more fragile. As Felix Salmon [puts it](http://blogs.reuters.com/felix-salmon/2011/04/18/the-implications-of-a-downgraded-us/), "as a general rule, the more efficient something is, the easier it is to break." Both the economics and the politics of neoliberalism are turning out to be very efficient and very easy to break.

To take a metaphor from engineering, capitalist societies of an earlier era were somewhat over-engineered. Before precise computer models were available, the builders of physical infrastructure built works that were [far more robust](http://www.freakonomics.com/2007/10/22/viva-las-vegas-seriously/) than they needed to be. This uses up more labor and materials, but it also makes structures more resistant to failure; thus, older bridges like those in New York City can stay standing even when they are neglected for years, while more recent structures can collapse in [catastrophic fashion](http://ezinearticles.com/?Insights-Into-the-Minneapolis-Bridge-Collapse&id=675460).

This same logic can be applied to the economy. The creation of a globalized, just-in-time, streamlined supply chain has made possible huge gains in the efficiency of manufacturing and distribution. Yet as [Barry Lynn](http://www.thenation.com/article/162317/how-america-could-collapse) has [argued](http://rortybomb.wordpress.com/2011/04/11/barry-lynn-at-inet-decoupling-our-corporations/), it also makes the entire global economy vulnerable to localized shocks, as when a Japanese earthquake crippled world-wide production of Toyota automobiles, or when an earthquake in Taiwan [led to a global shortage](http://www.deseretnews.com/article/722921/Computer-prices-on-rise-amid-chip-shortage-Taiwan-quake-is-most-recent-blow-to-ailing-industry.html) of computer memory.

And what goes for manufacturing goes double for finance. Investment banks, players in global markets who intricately hedge their positions in order to maximize their ability to take on risk, are uniquely vulnerable to economic shocks. As the saying goes, "in a crisis, all correlations go to 1". Using another engineering concept, "tight coupling", [Richard Bookstaber](http://rick.bookstaber.com/2007/09/myth-of-noncorrelation.html) explains the process, showing how disruptions in one corner of the financial markets can quickly propagate into a major worldwide crisis.

The tradeoff between efficiency and stability that exists in the process of production and circulation is also present in the [mode of regulation](http://lipietz.net/spip.php?article750). If the output of capitalist production is commodities, the output of the political system is social order and the consent of the working class. This latter, too, can be produced with either more or less efficiency. In the mid-20th century, capitalist economies developed welfare-state mechanisms for dealing with economic polarization and political unrest, and thereby securing some social stability. Keynesian capitalism's [failure mode](http://asq.org/learn-about-quality/process-analysis-tools/overview/fmea.html) was one in which working class dissatisfaction could be expressed through unions and labor parties; taxation and redistribution could be used to prop up demand, buy off the working class, and head off more radical forms of political dissent.

However, such a system is expensive for the capitalist class, in terms of both money and social power---eventually, the bourgeoisie concluded it would be more efficient to simply [keep all the surplus for themselves](http://www.peterfrase.com/2011/10/labors-share-in-cross-national-perspective/) and rely on hopelessness to keep the rabble in line. Thus neoliberalism has systematically dismantled the supports and failsafe systems that kept dissent in check, and has relied instead on preventing dissent from arising in the first place. The 99% have been cut off from institutional channels for influencing policy or voicing their grievances, and thus have been left with no choice but to take it to the streets. And now that we have done so, we are seeing the chaotic and unpredictable failure mode of neoliberal governance.

Since the end of the housing bubble, a lot of people have been looking for the next bubble to collapse. Maybe we've been living through a bubble in political order, a AAA-rated social stability which is turning out to be based on much riskier and more insecure foundations than any of its architects believed.

The Machines and Us

October 25th, 2011  |  Published in Political Economy, Work

The lesser depression has called forth a profusion of new and old theories about what's wrong with the American economy, and what can be done to put it right. As you can see in Mike Konczal's topological maps, these accounts can be broadly separated into "demand" and "supply" side arguments. Within the supply side, there is a subdivision between arguments based on government-induced uncertainty (due to taxation, regulation, policy, or deficits) and those centered around labor productivity. Of these I regard the uncertainty argument as opportunistic rhetorical hand-waving, with no real principled rationale; the argument about labor productivity, however, has some real substance behind it.

Curiously, however, the labor-productivity side contains proponents of two antithetical views: one group argues that jobs and income have stagnated because labor productivity is growing too slowly, while others argue that technology has been changing too fast for the labor market to keep up. Tyler Cowen's The Great Stagnation, which I've discussed before, is an argument for the first proposition. A new book provides an argument for the second: Race Against The Machine: How the Digital Revolution is Accelerating Innovation, Driving Productivity, and Irreversibly Transforming Employment and the Economy. The e-book, by Erik Brynjolfsson and Andrew McAfee of MIT, is a cheap and quick read (I call it a book, but it's really more like a very long article); it doesn't provide much detail that will be new to people who follow the topic, but it's a decent introduction to the effect of technology on the demand for labor. It's accessibly written without being too dumbed down, although it engages in some of the Gladwellese that seems to pervade recent pop-social science, such as the use of cutesy overriding metaphors (grains of rice on a chessboard, in this case). But while its account of the current economic landscape is useful, its ideas about where we should go from here are exceedingly lame.

Some liberals will probably react unfavorably to the book's whole thesis, because its emphasis on long-term technology and productivity issues threatens to distract attention from the more immediate problem, which is the tremendous shortfall in aggregate demand. The authors themselves are careful to say that they recognize the current demand problem, and that they do not believe that dealing with technological change should be a substitute for short-term measures to increase demand. Nevertheless, some commentators will no doubt be tempted to misuse the argument this way, as President Obama allegedly did when he used productivity-related claims to dismiss the need for additional stimulus.

But people on the left shouldn't let such foolishness scare them away from understanding changes in technology and labor productivity. Not only are such changes real and socially significant, but they present us with an opportunity to reorient the economic conversation in a more radical direction. To do so, however, we'll need to assimilate Brynjolfsson and McAfee's empirical argument, while rejecting their timid and depoliticized policy recommendations.

Technology and Employment

Race Against the Machine is organized around explaining the same empirical reality that confronts every would-be analyst of our economic woes: the stagnation of median incomes over the past three decades, long predating our current joblessness problem. As I noted recently, many of the underlying reasons for this stagnation are political, and this is something Brynjolfsson and McAfee don't discuss at all. But the fact that rising inequality and stagnating labor income have a political context doesn't mean they aren't also a function of technological changes: what we have seen in recent decades is a continuation of the disruptive and labor-displacing technical innovation that has always characterized capitalism, but without many of the countervailing protections that labor enjoyed in the heyday of the postwar Keynesian compromise. Brynjolfsson and McAfee do a good job of explaining the way labor markets play out under such conditions.

In contrast to Cowen, they argue that recent productivity growth has been quite good, and that published statistics are likely to under-state the increase in our social wealth. We're able to provide more goods and services with less and less human labor, which ought to make us materially richer as a society. The basic argument is similar to the one made by Farhad Manjoo in his recent series of articles on automation: computers and robots are rapidly permeating every part of the economy, displacing labor from high- and low-skill functions alike. Race Against the Machine gives many examples, from Google's self-driving cars to automation in Chinese electronics factories to software that can review legal documents. The problem, then, is not stagnation but uneven distribution: GDP per capita has continued to rise rapidly, but median incomes have stagnated, because the gains from growth are now going almost entirely to the very richest.

Three interrelated mechanisms are adduced to explain this lopsided growth: the advantaging of high-skill over low-skill labor, the rise of winner-take-all "superstar" markets, and the increasing returns to capital rather than labor. All three of these trends are facilitated and intensified by rapid technological advances--especially in computers and networks--that are making the skills of many workers obsolete while enriching the owners of capital and a few well-placed workers. Overall, this account of the relationship between technology and employment is the book's strength, particularly since it manages to avoid two common fallacies that beset such discussions, what I'll call the "end of work" fallacy and the "end of technology" fallacy.

The end of work fallacy, named for the title of a Jeremy Rifkin book, is the mistaken notion that if most of the labor currently performed by humans is replaced by machines, the result will inevitably be permanent mass unemployment at some point in the future. This is a fallacy for two reasons: first, because it ignores the possibility that we could all work less rather than leaving some unemployed, and second, because it assumes that human societies are somehow inherently limited in their ability to concoct new occupations for people to perform. While they ignore the first possibility, Brynjolfsson and McAfee do correctly point out that there is no reason to believe the second; just as we found new jobs for all the people displaced from working in agriculture a century ago, capitalism is no doubt capable of generating novel occupations for those whose jobs are automated in the 21st century (if all else fails, perhaps we can all become the personal servants of the top 1 percent). They frame this as an optimistic vision of our economic future, but I would interpret it somewhat differently: the gradual disappearance of work may not be inevitable, but it is also not something to fear: rather, it poses a major political and cultural choice for human societies centered around the institution of wage labor; I return to this point below.

Arrayed against the end of work fallacy, one often finds the end of technology fallacy, which insists that there is some obvious limit to just what can be automated. I guess this isn't so much a fallacy as a failure of imagination: as Brynjolfsson and McAfee point out, such pronouncements can look silly within a remarkably short time. As one example, they cite a 2004 book that confidently asserts the impossibility of something like the self-driving Google car. Today, the jobs most resistant to automation seem to be those that require finer-grained types of manual skill, as robots remain crude and awkward when they attempt to manipulate the physical environment. But while it is certainly possible that some kinds of automation will never be attained, it's dangerous to base one's economic analysis or one's politics on that belief.

While I find Race Against the Machine's argument about automation generally persuasive, the general theory of socio-technical development that the authors rely on is somewhat questionable. Citing Moore's law and the futurist Ray Kurzweil, Brynjolfsson and McAfee portray technological development as a process that starts off slowly but then relentlessly accelerates "into the phase where exponential growth yields jaw-dropping results". But this is a misleading picture of the history of technology. As Charles Stross has extensively argued, (and as I've written about previously), the path of progress within particular technological domains looks less like exponential growth than like a sigmoid curve, in which a middle period of rapid and seemingly exponential growth transitions into a mature plateau of slow progress. It's tempting, when you're in the rapid-acceleration phase of the curve, to extrapolate it forward exponentially--but this can lead to extremely misleading predictions. Mid-twentieth century futurists extrapolated the rapid improvements in transportation that they had lived through, and ended up imagining a future with flying cars but not the Internet; anyone who tries to imagine our future without accounting for unexpected and disruptive innovations is likely to be proven wrong as well.

The book's central claim nevertheless holds up without the dubious assumption of exponential growth. As the authors point out, we are in many ways in the early stages of adopting and integrating the technologies we already have into the economy, and so we can expect much more technological displacement of labor even if Moore's law slows down. And even if computer processing speed plateaus, some other area, such as biotechnology, will eventually enter the rapid-growth segment of its own sigmoid curve. Hence I generally accept the argument that rapid automation and technological unemployment will be a reality for the foreseeable future, and our societies need to find a way to deal with it.

The Future of Work

But it's in the recommendations for adapting to technological change that this book really falls short. The program for winning the future, it turns out, consists of encouraging entrepreneurship and improving education. The former, the authors say, will allow us to discover a bounty of new ways of employing people, through the magic of Hayekian tacit knowledge and Schumpeterian creative destruction. And an improved education system will ensure that the general population has the necessary human capital to participate in this magical new economy. This is a remarkably thin vision, redolent of the kind of popular techno-libertarianism that flourished at the height of the dot-com bubble, and it's no more compelling now than it was then. Brynjolfsson and McAfee write that "the stagnation of median wages and polarization of job growth is an opportunity for creative entrepreneurs", who can "combine the swelling numbers of mid-skilled workers with ever-cheaper technology to create value". Aside from the moral gruesomeness of this entrepreneurial paradise built on immiserated and precarious labor, where is the demand supposed to come from to realize all this "value"? This sounds like a recipe for re-creating the bubble economy of the last few decades, where most economic rewards go to capital and the working class props up its buying power with debt.

Brynjolfsson and McAfee do offer a more specific 19-point policy agenda. Some of the proposals are good ideas: reducing government support of the financial industry, decoupling social benefits from employment, scaling back copyright protections, increasing government funding for infrastructure and basic research, eliminating the home mortgage interest tax deduction, increasing high-skill immigration. But much of the rest is the usual grab-bag of neoliberal market idolatry: cut back workplace regulation, reduce taxes, make it easier to fire workers. The section on education, in particular, is just a rehash of the usual education reform arguments: less job security for teachers, longer hours, and more testing (though to be fair, they do at least call for higher teacher pay).

In the end, Brynjolfsson and McAfee don't even try that hard to make the case that their agenda will actually employ everyone or reverse rising inequality and stagnant incomes--they admit that "not everyone can or should be an entrepreneur, and not everyone can or should spend 16 or more years in school". But they casually dismiss the one thing that indisputably would address the unequal rewards of the contemporary economy: direct redistribution of income. "While redistribution ameliorates the material costs of inequality", they say in their one mention of the possibility, "it doesn't address the root of the problems our economy is facing" and "does nothing to make unemployed workers productive again". There's an implicit belief here that distributional outcomes somehow aren't "real" unless they are the result of the private labor market operating in the absence of government transfers. This denigrates the robustness of redistribution as a program: European social democracy, for all its shortcomings, has shown that it's possible to create an enduring system in which highly unequal market outcomes are ameliorated by government taxes, transfers, and social programs. That's one reason I'm partly sympathetic to the model of "globalize-grow-give" progressivism, which focuses on remediating inequality through redistribution rather than tight regulation of the labor market: leaving the labor market as it is and then doing lots of redistribution on the back end may not be ideal, but it would be a lot better than what we have now.

But if technology really is dramatically reducing the need for human labor, then we have an opportunity to think bigger and better, getting beyond merely trying to scrape up new skills and new jobs for the displaced proletariat. If you're a regular reader, you know where I'm going with this by now; as somebody said of one of my earlier renditions on this theme, "we get it--Peter Frase hates work". Totally missing from Race Against the Machine is any consideration that we might take some of our productivity gains in the form of free time rather than income. Nowhere do the authors even contemplate reducing the length of the work week and work year, or accepting a lower labor-force participation rate. Thus, despite constantly reminding us of all the ways in which technology has improved our standard of living and transformed society, Brynjolfsson and McAfee never question the centrality of wage labor in its current form: they never consider that there is any alternative to a society in which everyone expects, and is expected, to spend the bulk of their life as a 40 (or more) hour per week wage laborer, or as a profit-maximizing "entrepreneur".

Mostly, the immortality of capitalism is just an implicit assumption. But to the extent that this book contains a defense of the wage labor society, it is this: "the value of gainful work is far more than the money earned", and "forced idleness is not the same as voluntary leisure". Both are true, and both are reasons why in the short term, a federal jobs program is a good demand--and one that's more likely to revive the economy than any amount of education reform or entrepreneurialism. But the question that Race Against the Machine raises is explicitly not about the short term aggregate demand problem, to which some package of monetary and fiscal stimulus could be an adequate solution. If we ever escape from the nightmare of self-inflicted disinflationary contraction, we will essentially be back where we started before the financial crisis--and we will still have to come to terms with the constantly changing balance of labor between human and machine, and what it means for the future of work.

We live in a society in which a huge amount of a person's status and sense of self-worth is tied up in what they do for money. And the stigma of joblessness, combined with the stresses of job-hunting and dealing with the meager American welfare state, make unemployment a physically, psychologically, and emotionally damaging ordeal. But these aren't inherent features of the human condition; as another analyst of productivity-enhancing technology said:

Just as the savage must wrestle with Nature to satisfy his wants, to maintain and reproduce life, so must civilised man, and he must do so in all social formations and under all possible modes of production. With his development this realm of physical necessity expands as a result of his wants; but, at the same time, the forces of production which satisfy these wants also increase. Freedom in this field can only consist in socialised man, the associated producers, rationally regulating their interchange with Nature, bringing it under their common control, instead of being ruled by it as by the blind forces of Nature; and achieving this with the least expenditure of energy and under conditions most favourable to, and worthy of, their human nature. But it nonetheless still remains a realm of necessity. Beyond it begins that development of human energy which is an end in itself, the true realm of freedom, which, however, can blossom forth only with this realm of necessity as its basis. The shortening of the working-day is its basic prerequisite.

"We clearly are not pessimists about technology and its impacts", write Brynjolfsson and McAfee. They add that they considered calling their book "The Digital Frontier, since the image that keeps occurring to us is one of a huge amount of new territory opening up because of technological improvement and innovation". As it happens, I'm not a pessimist either, and I think the Digital Frontier is a wilder place than our intrepid economists imagine. Out there you'll find the advocates of work time reduction and guaranteed income and plenitude, and many others working to build the realm of freedom and abundance rather than keep capitalism's engine of artificial necessity and scarcity chugging along. The defenders of the current order will keep trying to convince us that in a technologically advanced world of material plenty, more capitalism is still the solution to all our problems; but perhaps it is capitalism itself that is holding us back, and maybe it's time for that integument to burst asunder.

Labor’s Share in Cross-National Perspective

October 21st, 2011  |  Published in Political Economy, Politics, Social Science, Sociology

Peter Orszag has a [column](http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2011-10-19/kaldor-s-facts-fall-occupy-wall-street-rises-commentary-by-peter-orszag.html) about the diminishing share of labor in national income, relative to capital. Mike Konczal provides some useful [additional discussion](http://rortybomb.wordpress.com/2011/10/20/labor-share-long-term-trends-and-financial-crises/). Both of them frame the issue as a new empirical mystery, because it contradicts a "stylized fact" that economists have long assumed about capitalist economies: that the relative share of labor and capital in national income remains constant over time.

I try to avoid the characteristic sociologist's vice of economics-bashing, but this does rather strike me as a case where economists are betraying their insularity by purporting to discover something that other social scientists are already talking about. Mike quotes (the generally excellent) Arjun Jayadev musing that "A more comprehensive account should really take a look at the politics of this shift and there is some evidence for the contention that an eroded bargaining power of labor is an important factor." As it turns out, someone has looked at "the politics", although they're not an economist. Last year, the *American Sociological Review* published a paper called "Good Times, Bad Times: Postwar Labor's Share of National Income in Capitalist Democracies" by Tali Kristal of the University of Haifa, which bears directly on this issue. (An un-gated version is [here](http://gesd.free.fr/kristal10.pdf).)

One of the tricky things about explaining long-term economic trends is that we don't have access to the counterfactual: what would the U.S. economy look like if, say, we still had 1950's levels of unionization? As a next-best solution, though, we can contextualize the United States by comparing it to other rich countries. The global economy is characterized, as Trotsky put it, by "combined and uneven development": while the declining share of labor income is a cross-national phenomenon, it has not been experienced or responded to in exactly the same way everywhere. Kristal's paper compares the U.S. to 15 other countries in the period since 1960, in an attempt to identify some of the factors behind labor's declining income share.

Even if you don't want to wade through the text, I highly recommend giving it at least a "quant-jock read"--that is, have a look through the charts and tables. I'll try to summarize the main argument and findings of the paper here. Kristal shows that Labor's share of income has risen and fallen over the past century, "stylized facts" notwithstanding. In the United States and and the UK, much of the increase in labor's share took place before and immediately after World War II; there was a substantial postwar increase in continental Europe, the Nordic countries, Australia, and Japan. Since 1980, labor's share has generally declined everywhere. But the scope and timing of this decline differs across countries, indicating that the relative position of capital and labor is related to the economic and political particularities of the countries.

The assumption that labor's share of income is constant implies that gains in national income due to increasing productivity are always shared equally by labor and capital. Kristal shows that this is not the case: in the 1960's and 1970's, labor income grew as fast as or even faster than productivity, whereas since 1980 labor income has lagged far behind. In other words, this pattern is valid cross-nationally:

![image](http://currydemocrats.org/in_perspective/productivity_family_income.png)

Kristal makes the interesting point that this dynamic isn't necessarily related to the much more studied phenomenon of rising income inequality. Income inequality could increase if one group of workers captured most of the wage gains, which would keep the overall labor share of income constant. And as Kristal wryly notes, studies of income inequality "tend to identify the capitalist class as
a subset of the self-employed."

In attempting to explain the changing fortunes of labor, economists are generally inclined to reach for explanations rooted in the market rather than the political sphere. Thus, as Kristal explains, the two leading explanations for the declining labor share of income have been technology (i.e., the adoption of labor-saving production techniques) and worker bargaining power (declining unionization, competition from abroad). But workers can alter their share of income by political means that go beyond the immediate power of unions in wage bargaining. When social democratic parties are in power, they can shift income shares by shielding workers from market forces, expanding public employment, and regulating the workplace, as well as by taking steps to strengthen labor unions.

Kristal attempts to capture these dynamics with a regression-based analysis, in which labor's income share in a given year is predicted based on both economic and political variables. Changes in productivity, inflation, unemployment, union power, the strength of left parties in government, and several measures of economic globalization are all combined in the model. To quote from Kristal's conclusion:

> __Labor’s share of national income increased in the 1960s and 1970s due to unions organizing new members, the surge in strike activity, and the consolidation of the welfare state.__ These factors all increased labor’s compensation faster than the economy’s income. __Labor’s share declined since the early 1980s with the decline in unionization rates and levels of strike activity, stagnation in government civilian spending, and bargaining decentralization. Labor’s capacity to influence state policies has also declined across countries, and governments’ targets of full employment have been abandoned in favor of labor market flexibility and low inflation.__ The current decline in labor’s share of the national income can also be traced to an increase in imports from developing countries and the increased presence of foreign affiliates of multinational firms.

Technology, meanwhile, looks like it is not an independent source of labor's diminishing share. That is, while increasing productivity is associated with a lower labor share of income, this association has *always* been present, even in the earlier periods when productivity growth and income growth matched up in the aggregate. What has changed is the countervailing political factors that used to ensure that a share of economic growth was paid out to workers.

You can question some of the particulars of the modelling that leads to this conclusion, and in general it's hard to disentangle the causal relations in this kind of bird's eye view quantitative analysis. But as an overall correlational picture of what's happened to labor in the past 50 years, I think there's a lot in this analysis that people can learn from--maybe even economists.

Jacobin OWS Debate Video is Live

October 19th, 2011  |  Published in Politics

You can now watch the full video of last Friday's contentious and exciting intra-left debate about the way forward for Occupy Wall Street, organized by my collaborators at *Jacobin*. See [the *Jacobin* blog](http://jacobinmag.com/blog/?p=1937) for the video and an introductory write-up by moderator Seth Ackerman.

Polarization and Ideology

October 19th, 2011  |  Published in Politics

Now that TPM has sent me a [tidal wave](http://talkingpointsmemo.com/archives/2011/10/todays_must_read_5.php) of traffic, I'm kind of itching to correct something from my last post. Some criticism I've gotten has convinced me that this was a bit poorly stated:

> In the United States, the diminishing distance between the parties–and the total incoherence of the Democratic side–has led the ideological and the partisan to become totally disconnected. Thus we see the parties locked in ever more vicious and polarized combat, even when both sides seem to be marching to the same neo-liberal drumbeat.

The talk about "distance" and "coherence" is confusing here, because some people read me as saying that the Democrats used to be more ideologically coherent than they are now, which isn't really the case. What I was trying to say, however, was that the very well-attested evidence of increasing *polarization* between the parties doesn't imply a widening ideological divide in our political debates. To use the language from my last post, things like the [McCarthy, Poole, and Rosenthal](http://themonkeycage.org/blog/2011/10/18/polarization-and-inequality/) measures of polarization really only speak to increasing *partisanship*; they have little to say about ideology. It's possible for partisan polarization to increase even as the ideological range of the political debate is narrowing, and I'd argue that's exactly what has happened. I'll just belabor the point a bit more with two extreme hypothetical examples.

First, consider a world in which the only issue is the tax rate. Democrats favor a plan where everyone pays a 31 percent tax rate, and Republicans favor a plan where everyone pays a 30 percent tax rate. Democrats will always vote for the 31 percent plan and against the 30 percent plan, while Republicans will always vote for the 30 percent plan and against the 31 percent plan. By the standards of the political science literature, this situation would be extremely polarized, because Democrats and Republicans never vote with each other on anything. But the ideological distance between them is minimal, and the distinction between having one party or the other in the majority is only a tiny difference in your taxes.

Now consider a world in which the only issue is whether the government should attempt to promote white supremacy and racial segregation, or whether it should promote racial equality and civil rights. Both parties contain a mixture of civil rights advocates and racists, and so any given civil rights or pro-segregation bill can attract bipartisan support. This is, of course, only partly a hypothetical--it's kind of how politics worked in the mid-20th century. In contrast to the previous example, this situation is not polarized by party at all, and you can't directly predict policy outcomes based on which party has a majority. But the ideological stakes are obviously huge, and the range of debate is far wider than in the previous example.

My position is that we've moved in the direction of the first hypothetical, where sharp partisan division conceals ideological homogeneity. Even when political rhetoric seems to imply ideological divides, the results of governance tend not to bear this out: Obama didn't stop torture, close Guantanamo, or get tough on the banks, and I don't think the Republicans will actually "repeal Obamacare" or institute a flat tax. Which isn't to say that there is no difference between the parties, only that the differences are much less than the rancor of partisan politics might lead you to believe. To borrow a [quip from academia](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sayre%27s_law), "the politics are so intense because the stakes are so low".

The narrowing of ideological divides has, in some cases, worked in a way that I find politically desirable--i.e., it's no longer acceptable for a mainstream politician to explicitly defend white supremacy. But with respect to the welfare state and the redistribution of wealth, the ideological narrowing has been quite pernicious, and that's the dynamic I hope things like Occupy Wall Street will begin to change.

The Partisan and the Political

October 18th, 2011  |  Published in Politics

__Update 10/19:__ I have a clarification to part of this post [here](http://www.peterfrase.com/2011/10/polarization-and-ideology/).

Lately I've noticed some [concern](http://digbysblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/feelin-some-deja-vu-vu.html) over the intermittent tendency to portray Occupy Wall Street, and other insurgent movements, as somehow "neither left nor right"; recently, we can see Matt Taibbi [engaging in this](http://www.rollingstone.com/politics/blogs/taibblog/why-occupy-wall-street-is-bigger-than-left-vs-right-20111017) rhetoric, and Richard Seymour found it [cropping up at Occupy London](http://leninology.blogspot.com/2011/10/visiting-occupy-london.html). This is, I agree, an annoying rhetorical tic; maybe even a [dangerous](http://press.princeton.edu/titles/5869.html) one. Digby, in the link above, attributes this framing to a quixotic desire to escape political conflict; others suggest that it reflects an unwillingness to [confront the class struggle](http://unemployednegativity.blogspot.com/2011/10/getting-to-99-between-occupywallstreet.html) at the heart of populist "99-percenter" rhetoric. Maybe, but I suspect it's also something else: less a product of wrong ideology than of an impoverished political vocabulary, which is the inevitable consequence of the decline of the left and of political consciousness generally. This decline has produced widespread confusion about the difference between, on the one hand, the way political *partisanship* operates in contemporary politics, and on the other hand, the importance of actual contests of political *ideology*. In such a period, morbid symptoms appear.

To summarize the thesis: ordinary people hate partisanship, and elites hate ideology. Hence the elite is constantly attempting to misrepresent the latter as the former. And the masses sometimes respond by repudiating ideology when they mean to reject partisanship.

By partisanship, I mean adopting positions or taking actions based purely on what is immediately advantageous to your "side", party, or faction. (On the far left, this usually goes by the name of "sectarianism".) When Republicans denounce a health care plan that they [were promoting](http://articles.boston.com/2010-03-28/news/29285190_1_individual-mandate-health-insurance-individual-requirement) a few years before, just to make the Democrats look bad, they're being partisan. When Democratic-aligned lawyers go from vigorously denouncing Bush's imperial presidency to [giving legal cover to Obama's death squads](http://highclearing.com/index.php/archives/2011/10/09/13768), they're being partisan. A lot of people find this kind of behavior objectionable, because it is so transparently cynical and unprincipled, motivated by the desire to win tactical--and personal--advantages even at the expense of larger ideals and strategic objectives--that is, at the expense of ideology. What this sort of partisanship ultimately amounts to is the conviction that politics is about winning power for its own sake, rather than using that power for some larger purpose. The Wall Street protests seem to have drawn a decent number of people who were disengaged from the political system, perhaps from a revulsion at this kind of cynical partisanship, combined with a vague ideological intuition that neither side of the mainstream partisan divide is actually pursuing anything that is in their interest.

I recognize, of course, that ideology ultimately *requires* partisanship, since principles can only become political works through the vehicle of some kind of organization or party. The attempt to permanently separate the two runs aground in an individualistic sort of anarchism. But ideology and partisanship can only be aligned in specific circumstances--as, for instance, when the political system features parties with coherent and clearly opposed ideologies. In the United States, the diminishing distance between the parties--and the total incoherence of the Democratic side--has led the ideological and the partisan to become totally disconnected. Thus we see the parties locked in ever more vicious and [polarized](http://www.voteview.com/polarized_america.htm) combat, even when both sides seem to be marching to the same neo-liberal drumbeat.

So while we might wish for an organized partisan vehicle for radical ideology, we also have to deal with the reality that one does not yet exist. Hence, firm ideology often manifests itself in opposition to partisanship; Glenn Greenwald, for example, has [come down hard](http://politics.salon.com/2011/10/09/the_awlaki_memo_and_marty_lederman/singleton/) against the lawyers who wrote Obama's death squad opinion, just as he did against John Yoo and other architects of Bush's torture regime. He does so because he has an ideological commitment to civil liberties, due process, and the rule of law, which supersedes partisan loyalty to Democrats or Republicans.

Many people will profess to admire principled ideological stances like Greenwald's, even when they disagree with the specifics of the ideology. But the one group that is implacably hostile to such displays of principle is the world's economic and political elites. That's because they benefit from a situation in which their preferences and goals are [treated as objective common sense](http://jdeanicite.typepad.com/i_cite/2011/10/anne-applebaum-trembling-before-occupywallstreet-london-style-this-is-what-the-fear-of-the-liberal-c.html), and alternative ideologies cannot be considered or even articulated. It's in that light that we should consider the continual elite longing for a "centrist" or "post-partisan" leader to deliver us from the evil of political polarization. What this yearning represents is not so much a desire to escape from narrow partisan cynicism as it is an attempt to prevent the drawing of clear distinctions of political principle.

President Obama is of course an exemplary case of this kind of post-partisanship, which substitutes image for substance; the latest iteration of such nonsense is the *Politico*'s new ["primary"](http://www.politico.com/politicoprimary/), in which Jim VandeHei and Mike Allen propose several candidates who will transcend "Washington and conventional politics" and "harness the public's hunger for something new, different and inspiring". As Greg Marx [documents](http://www.cjr.org/campaign_desk/politico_primary_down_the_rabb.php?page=all), the discussion of these fantasy candidates is almost entirely vacuous, characterized by "indifference to policy, an eagerness to see politicians as products to be marketed, undue deference to institutional authority, a fetish for 'centrism'". Thus it's tempting to dismiss the whole exercise as the effluvium of political horse-race journalism and its fatuous, intellectually bankrupt culture; but this kind of posturing is, in fact, satisfying someone's "hunger"--just not the general public's.

VandeHei and Allen are careful to avoid attributing any kind of ideological substance to their proposed candidates. Instead, they describe them with empty signifiers like "authentic outsider", "a combination of money, accomplishment and celebrity", "a strong leader [voters] can truly believe in", and "someone who breaks free from the tired right-versus-left constraint on modern politics". But that doesn't mean there's no ideological agenda here. There is, and it leaks through in their profile of erstwhile Deficit Commissioner Erskine Bowles: "The most depressing reality of modern governance is this: The current system seems incapable of dealing with our debt addiction before it becomes a crippling crisis."

It's hardly worth pointing out anymore that there is, in fact, no debt crisis; on the contrary, sensible observers are wondering why the government is bothering to collect revenues at all, when the cost of borrowing is [hitting zero](http://modeledbehavior.com/2011/09/09/moving-the-overton-window-why-is-the-us-government-still-collecting-taxes/). By now, everyone who cares has realized that fear-mongering about the debt and the deficit is a trick used opportunistically by those who want to reorient government around their particular priorities. And the priorities of the deficit scolds, judging by the work of creatures like [Pete Peterson](http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dean-baker/peter-peterson-and-the-de_b_865731.html), are to dismantle what's left of the welfare state and transfer even more money to the already wealthy. Ranting about the deficit is merely a means to this end, if it facilitates goals such as the elimination of Social Security and Medicare.

Jim VandeHei and Mike Allen probably don't consciously believe that they are ideologically committed to immiserating the working class in order to further enrich themselves and their ultra-rich friends; as career journalists, they have no doubt internalized the bizarre conceit that they are merely objective chroniclers with no political orientation whatsoever. Nevertheless, defending plutocracy *is*, functionally, their ideology, for it is the ideology of the elite--and by promoting the fantasy of non-ideological "bipartisanship", they further the agenda of those who are already powerful. If the reporters themselves actually believe in their centrist platitudes, so much the better; as the philosopher Costanza [once remarked](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vn_PSJsl0LQ), "it's not a lie if you believe it".

But by conflating partisanship and ideology, elite discourse tends to discredit the latter; thus, just as elites tend to cloak their ideological program in the veil of post-partisanship, contemporary popular movements sometimes attempt to do the same. But they, too, are ideological whether they want to be or not. Some of this is on display in the Occupy Wall Street protests: these have been characterized by an almost obsessive desire to avoid specific ideologies or even specific demands, in a way that tends to grate on those of us with more traditional leftist sensibilities. Doug Henwood recently [commented on this](http://lbo-news.com/2011/10/03/ideological-notes/) in a post where he lamented the ideological confusion of the protesters, and quoted a 25-year-old photographer stating that the protests were "not about left versus right" but about "hierarchy versus autonomy".

The uncharitable reading of this is that it reflects a naive avoidance of politics and the worldview of, as Doug puts it, bourgeois individualism. But a more generous reading is that this man is simply partaking of the same collapsing of ideology and partisanship that pervades the society he grew up in. If you're 25 years old, there's a good chance you haven't had much or any contact with what remains of an actual "left" in this country; instead, your experience of politics will be one in which "left versus right" is used interchangeably with "Democrats versus Republicans". In other words, a discourse in which ideology is reduced to an empty, symbolic partisanship. Rather than an attempt to deny ideology and politics, we can see statements like the one I quoted as an attempt, however confused, to reclaim them from the clutches of the major parties and their hack apologists. Because whatever they might say, Occupy Wall Street has an ideology, even if it is still an inchoate and jumbled one. Mike Konczal has done some [excellent](http://rortybomb.wordpress.com/2011/10/02/fifteen-definitions-of-freedom-from-occupywallstreet/) [work](http://rortybomb.wordpress.com/2011/10/09/parsing-the-data-and-ideology-of-the-we-are-99-tumblr/) trying to extract that ideology from the protests themselves and the "We are the 99 percent" Tumblr; meanwhile, the right clearly recognizes it as an ideological challenge as well, which is why their polemicists are producing counter-programming like [We Are the 53 Percent](http://the53.tumblr.com/).

That's not to say that the obsession with centrism and post-partisanship hasn't infected the masses to some degree as well. The other day I was listening to an NPR call-in show about Occupy Wall Street, and I heard the kind of infuriating caller you often get on these programs, who lamented extremism and polarization and said that we need to work together with Wall Street to solve our problems, blah blah blah. But positions like that are only tenable in the wake of the elite campaign to efface all conflicts of interest or ideology, and replace them with the illusion that there is some technocratic compromise that would equally benefit the 99% and the 1%. Barack Obama's latest move on behalf of that campaign is his bizarre [argument](http://www.bloomberg.com/news/2011-10-18/obama-s-campaign-won-t-advance-by-taking-cheap-shots-at-wall-street-view.html) that the [democratic socialist](http://www.blackcommentator.com/169/169_street_mlk_democratic_socialist.html) Martin Luther King "would remind us that the unemployed worker can rightly challenge the excesses of Wall Street without demonizing all who work there". But this is no time to shrink from a bit of demonization. The best thing leftists can do to combat this sort of nonsense, then, is to help draw out and clarify the implicit class ideology of the protestors, rather than condemn them for not drawing political demarcations in the way we would prefer; as the young Marx [put it](http://www.marxists.org/archive/marx/works/1843/letters/43_09.htm), "We do not say to the world: Cease your struggles, they are foolish; we will give you the true slogan of struggle. We merely show the world what it is really fighting for, and consciousness is something that it *has to* acquire, even if it does not want to."

October 15 Protests in Luxembourg

October 16th, 2011  |  Published in Luxembourg, Politics

Yesterday there were big protests all over the world; [Aaron Bady](http://zunguzungu.wordpress.com/2011/10/15/sunday-reading-22/) has lots of great photos over at his place. From [what I hear](http://lbo-news.com/2011/10/15/ows-takes-a-walk-uptown/), the march back in New York was large and successful.

Here in Luxembourg, things were a little more sedate. Here are some pictures of varying quality, which you can click to expand.

I got downtown at around 4:30, at which point the rally in the Place d'Armes had already been going for half an hour:

Stage shot

The speeches only lasted another 10 or 15 minutes after I got there; what I heard (and was in a language I understood) was pretty broad stuff about global economic justice, nothing too exciting to report. That crew on stage punctuated every brief speech with music though. I'm bad at estimating crowds, but there must have been a few hundred people there at least:

The Crowd at the Plaza

That might not sound very impressive, but keep in mind that Luxembourg City is a town of 80,000 people, of which some substantial fraction are bankers, and I think some folks went up to Brussels for the big demonstration there.

One thing that was very much absent was any of the major political parties. This guy's swag from "The Left" was exceptional:

dei Lenk shoulder bag

The organizers had covered the stage with signs, which reflected Luxembourg's crazy quilt of languages and ethnicities. The messages on the right are, I believe, in the local Lëtzebuergesch language:

Signs in French and Luxembourgish

The dominant inspiration for yesterday's event wasn't Occupy Wall Street as much as it was the Spanish ["indignados"](http://www.thenation.com/article/161229/spains-indignados-take-square):

If you're not indignant, you're not informed

There were also messages related to more general European-level concerns:

Against the Euro Pact

We Don't Want to Save Banks!!!!

And some good old anti-capitalism:

Capitalism = Cannibalism

That's not to say that USA-related messages were absent:

USA-themed signs

And the "99%" meme has made it here too. I swear I took this picture yesterday, even though it looks like it came from some kind of activist stock photo site:

Luxembourgers are also the 99 percent

After the speeches wrapped up, we started marching through downtown Luxembourg City. Note what you *won't* see in the following pictures: cops. I literally didn't see a single one either at the rally, or as we marched around town, alternately on the sidewalks and in the streets. In fact, I've only seen the police once in the nearly two weeks I've been here, which really underscores the awful militarized quality of everyday life in American cities. I miss a lot of things about the U.S., but I'm very happy to be 3000 miles away from the nearest NYPD officer.

We were led on our march by this crew of singers and musicians; I guess they're supposed to represent a cross-section of the working class, but they kind of look the activist Village People:

The Activist Village People

We stopped in front of the Grand Duke's palace, which is the sort of thing you don't get to do at American protests. Note the lone armed guard marching in the background:

At the Grand Duke's palace

Another shot at the palace

We wrapped things up at this overlook; protesting in Luxembourg can be very scenic!

A scenic end to the march

Finally, this has nothing to do with the protests, it's just some miscellaneous awesomeness. On my way home, I came across these kids breakdancing underneath the main bus terminal:

Breakdancers!

Periods of Discouragement

October 11th, 2011  |  Published in Politics

Chris Maisano's [whole interview](http://theactivist.org/blog/from-protest-to-disruption-an-interview-with-frances-fox-piven) with Frances Fox Piven is worth your time, but I think this is the money quote that everyone should be carrying around in their heads right now:

> It’s also true that when I say I think we may be on the cusp, at the beginning of a another period of social protest and [Occupy Wall Street] is the sign, __I don’t think that social protest works as a little explosion and gets bigger and bigger__ and bigger and bigger. It doesn’t happen that way. __It’s much more interrupted, dispersed, there are periods of discouragement__ — 1959-1960 the civil rights movement people thought it was over, after 1962 in Albany, Georgia — this movement is going to be like that too.

It's entirely possible that the Zuccotti park encampment and the nationwide flare-up of occupations will burn themselves out before they succeed in stoking a sustainable movement. If that happens, leftist pontificators will come out of the woodwork to tell us how they were too disorganized, or needed clearer demands, or had the wrong ideology, or didn't connect enough with labor, or weren't diverse enough, or whatever; then they'll go back to lamenting that Americans aren't rising up and the left is doomed. This cautionary note from Piven--who knows from insurgent popular movements--is a useful corrective to that. The important thing is to recognize that in terms of changing the terms of mainstream debate and activating a lot of depoliticized people, Occupy Wall Street has *already* been a huge success no matter what happens next.