what you get here

This is not a blog which opines on current events. It rather uses incidents, books (old and new), links and papers to muse about our social endeavours.
So old posts are as good as new! And lots of useful links!

The Bucegi mountains - the range I see from the front balcony of my mountain house - are almost 120 kms from Bucharest and cannot normally be seen from the capital but some extraordinary weather conditions allowed this pic to be taken from the top of the Intercontinental Hotel in late Feb 2020

Sunday, November 30, 2025

A couple more books on the leftist theme

Alternative Societies for a Pluralist Socialism Luke Martell (2023)

Chapter 1 covers alternative economies of communism; co- ops and other forms of alternative and participatory economy; non- work and slow society; eco- localism, especially in the Global South; and tech and digital alternatives. 

Chapter 2 looks at social alternatives in education, intentional communities, food countercultures, alternative social centres, alternatives to prison and policing, and political institutions of welfare and social democracy. In these cases, I look at the ends and means of change. These chapters raise themes and examples, some of which are mainly discussed there while others are expanded on in the remaining chapters. Many alternative societies are regarded as utopian. While giving talks about alternatives and discussing them during the writing of this book, I was confronted with fierce criticisms of utopianism, often from people committed to political alternatives.

Chapter 3 looks at common criticisms of utopianism from Marxist and liberal perspectives, arguing that it is very defendable against their judgements, and that this is possible from within these perspectives rather than by rejecting them. Utopianism as materialist and not idealist, and as liberal rather than totalitarian, is advocated.

Chapter 4 explores criticisms of socialism from liberal, neoliberal, green and feminist perspectives. I think the most telling concerns about socialism can be found in questioning from these approaches. I argue that sometimes these viewpoints give reasons for socialism expanding, as a good way to tackle their concerns. But sometimes I believe they lead to socialism needing to limit itself to some extent, where the points critics make hit home. Criticisms of socialism lead to both arguments for socialism and arguments for a more pluralist socialism. For me, the most defining aspect of socialism is democratic and collective ownership in the economy, which has come back more into mainstream politics in recent years.

Chapter 5 looks more closely at this, focusing especially on proposals for, and practices of, local, decentralized, and democratized social ownership, about which there have been new thinking and experiments, often localized but relevant also at levels above the local. I sympathize with such proposals and trials of the democratic economy but see dangers in localism and in optimism about winning support for them. I argue for national public ownership in a democratized form and well-planned strategies for political actors so they can be ready to fight back against resistance and opposition from interests like international capital and the political Right.

Chapter 6 looks at the global dimension, discussing the way anti- and alter- globalization movements have gone, their energies channelled more into national and local forms, and what promise these may hold. It looks with hope but pessimism at proposals for political globalization in support of social democratic and social policies, arguing instead for a sub- global internationalism. I argue that hopes in global change for a better world rest more with opening borders to the free movement of people. I believe there is a very strong case across the board for open borders and more positive hope and possibility for them than both critics and supporters often see.The concluding chapter ties together what I have been arguing for. I draw together arguments about globalism, sub- global internationalism, national and local approaches, and experimental, prefigurative, and political approaches to change towards, and organizing of, an alternative society. I argue against dichotomous and polarized thinking about different levels and approaches to social change, and against false oppositions between materialism and idealism, utopianism and Marxism.

This book is based on grounded theory, looking at concrete alternatives and then developing analytical, theoretical, and political discussions founded on this. The concrete alternatives come in Chapters 1 and 2 before the more theoretical and analytical Chapters 3, 4, and 5. This follows the learning process that happens in many of these alternatives, and the one that I went through in studying this area, writing this book, and coming to its conclusions. I also think starting the book with concrete alternatives is the best way to make it accessible to less academic lay readers. The two parts of the book, on concrete alternatives and then more theoretical and analytical discussions, are not separate; the first leads to the latter, and they go together and are one whole. There is some minor reiteration across chapters because while the whole book makes a case with all the chapters together, some will read just parts. So occasionally something mentioned in an earlier chapter or section is brought up again briefly in another one where it is important for someone not reading the whole book. Where this happens, I point this out, so readers of the whole book can skim issues that may have been discussed earlier.

It become less and less reasonable to think that capitalism might be keeping any of the promises made on its behalf by its supporters. Wealth was not trickling down; the gap between the rich and the poor was growing daily. Even the lucky ones who capitalism enriched were not happier than before. While at the same time the results of electoral politics seemed increasingly questionable, public corruption was on the rise and democracy moribund as the economy alternatively boomed and burst. Capitalism had not brought us peace and security, neither at home nor abroad, but instead involved us in endless warfare and mass slaughter. It daily became a more intense threat to the natural environment and human survival on earth. Nor have the moral requirements of racial and gender equality made great inroads. Overwhelmed by these realities, we thought that socialism is clearly what the world needs. But, at the same time, we found that the large anticapitalist literature had little to tell us about the detailed features of a socialist society. Hence we asked a group of our friends to write papers about their thoughts about a socialist society. They did and what emerged is a really interesting book.

But the book did not answer the question that needs answering. When you ask someone about their conception of socialism, you may very well get a description of their fantasies about a better world. They will give you their dreams and wishful thinking. But wishful thinking will not repair the ravages of capitalism. What we need are alternative institutions that we can build in the present. We need not only to ask ourselves how we imagine a better world but also how we are going to construct it in the prefiguative process of reconstructing ourselves and our social relations.

Socialism has been on the agenda for close to 200 years. It began its career as the name for a society based on cooperation and equal economic and political rights. Becoming then associated with the Marxist theory ofhistory, socialism became a future state that would follow capitalism once that mode of production met its inevitable demise. Not much needed to be known about socialism because we would find out, when the time came, how we needed to construct a society not dominated by the private ownership of the means of production.

Socialism was going to be the opposite of a society where means of production were privately owned. For a variety of historical reasons that was taken to mean that in a socialist society the state would own and direct the economy. This conception spawned numerous socialist experiments—most of them brutal failures.

Socialists have recommended political strategies which have not worked. They have organized labor unions that turned out to be solidly anti-communist. They have organized “socialist” political parties that became staunch supporters of capitalist institutions. They have talked grandly about international working class solidarity only to find workers flocking to their national colors when war broke out. They have created schools and families that have reproduced the very authoritarianism they were intended to overthrow.

Many theorists today, however, critical of capitalism follow in the footsteps of Eduard Bernstein and deny that capitalist collapse is inevitable (without adopting Bernstein’s electoral strategies). If capitalism is not expected to fall apart it is extremely unlikely that we will be able to replace the entire capitalist system with an alternative—socialism. The anti-capitalist project needs to be reoriented. Instead of organizing an entirely new society from the ground up, our task as the enemies of capitalism, is to develop projects which can restrict the dominance of capitalist institutions and values. No longer in the business of changing everything all at once or in a short period, the enemies of capitalism are becoming enormously inventive in thinking about what specific changes they want to make. None of these projects will bring about a better society by itself. All together they may—we hope—help. Absent serious thought about how socialism will come into the world in concrete incarnations our descriptions of aspects of a socialist society must remain utopian. It is time for socialists to abandon the comforting generalities of the past and the pleasing fantasies with which we maintain our sanity in an insane world.

Taking Socialism Seriously ed Antole Anton and Richard Schmidt (2012)

It become less and less reasonable to think that capitalism might be keeping any of the promises made on its behalf by its supporters. Wealth was not trickling down; the gap between the rich and the poor was growing daily. Even the lucky ones who capitalism enriched were not happier than before. While at the same time the results of electoral politics seemed increasingly questionable, public corruption was on the rise and democracy moribund as the economy alternatively boomed and burst.

Capitalism had not brought us peace and security, neither at home nor abroad, but instead involved us in endless warfare and mass slaughter. It daily became a more intense threat to the natural environment and human survival on earth. Nor have the moral requirements of racial and gender equality made great inroads. Overwhelmed by these realities, we thought that socialism is clearly what the world needs. But, at the same time, we found that the large anticapitalist literature had little to tell us about the detailed features of a socialist society. Hence we asked a group of our friends to write papers about their thoughts about a socialist society. They did and what emerged is a really interesting book.

But the book did not answer the question that needs answering. When you ask someone about their conception of socialism, you may very well get a description of their fantasies about a better world. They will give you their dreams and wishful thinking. But wishful thinking will not repair the ravages of capitalism. What we need are alternative institutions that we can build in the present. We need not only to ask ourselves how we imagine a better world but also how we are going to construct it in the prefiguative process of reconstructing ourselves and our social relations. Socialism has been on the agenda for close to 200 years. It began its career as the name for a society based on cooperation and equal economic and political rights. Becoming then associated with the Marxist theory of history, socialism became a future state that would follow capitalism once that mode of production met its inevitable demise. Not much needed to be known about socialism because we would find out, when the time came, how we needed to construct a society not dominated by the private ownership of the means of production.

Socialists have recommended political strategies which have not worked. They have organized labor unions that turned out to be solidly anti-communist. They have organized “socialist” political parties that became staunch supporters of capitalist institutions. They have talked grandly about international working class solidarity only to find workers flocking to their national colors when war broke out. They have created schools and families that have reproduced the very authoritarianism they were intended to overthrow.



Sunday, November 23, 2025

Is the Left Finished? part 2

I've been trying these past few days to get my head around a growing list of books I need to read. Here are some of them - with a few excerpts...

After the Third Way – the future of social democracy in Europe ed O Cramme and P Diamond (2012)

We take ideas to be of central importance in our analysis, structuring the electoral strategies, political identities and policy agendas of centre-left parties. There is a vast historical literature on European social democracy which explores the role of ideologies, institutions and interests. Although ideas are referred to in passing and are closely related to ideologies, institutions and interests, for many authors, they remain of secondary concern.

Taking Socialism Seriously ed Antole Anton and Richard Schmidt (2012)
Why the Left Loses – the decline of the centre-left in comparative perspective ed 
Rob Manwaring and Paul Kennedy (2018)

After the 2008 financial crisis many observers expected a significant swing to the left among Western electorates, since many blamed the economy’s problems on the neoliberal policies that had proliferated during the end of the 20th and beginning of the 21st centuries. But the centre-left lacked a convincing message for dealing with the crisis, or a more general vision of how to promote growth while protecting citizens from the harsher aspects of free markets. Instead, it kept on trying to defend out-dated policies or proposed watered-down versions of neoliberalism that barely differentiated it from the centre-right. The centre-left also lacked a convincing message about how to deal with increasing diversity or a vision of social solidarity appropriate to changing demographic and cultural realities. Instead, the centre-left either ignored the challenge of diversity or especially among the intellectual left, put forward a message of ‘multiculturalism’ – neither of these responses was able to stem social conflict or electoral flight from the left, especially on the part of the working class.

It has now become fairly commonplace to note the support given by traditionally centre-left voters to the populist right. This connection was on obvious display in the Brexit referendum, where many traditional Labour strongholds and supporters voted to leave the EU, and it has been a prominent feature of elections in Europe as workingclass voters have flocked to right-wing populist parties. And, of course, a version of this was present in the US, where Donald Trump garnered disproportionate support from less-educated and working-class voters. What is still worth stressing, however, is the causal connection between the failures or missteps of the centre-left and the rise of right-wing populist parties that offered simple, straightforward messages in response to citizens’ economic and social fears. Economically, the populist right promises to promote prosperity, via increased government control of the economy and limits on globalisation. Socially, the populist right promises to restore social solidarity and a sense of shared national purpose, by expelling foreigners or severely limiting immigration, diminishing the influence of the EU and globalisation, and protecting traditional values, identities and mores.

For those who bemoan the decline of the centre-left and the rise of the populist right, the challenge is clear: you can’t beat something with nothing, and if the centre-left can’t come up with more viable and attractive messages about how to solve contemporary problems, and a more attractive vision of the future than those offered by its competitors, it can expect to continue its slide into the dust heap of history. The following chapters provide an excellent starting point for the debate about the centre-left’s future.

Leftism Reinvented – western parties from socialism to neoliberalism Stephanie Mudge (2018)

Key to the ideological mass party form was a triple orientation: first, toward knowledge production, education, socialization, and truth-claiming; second, toward representation, agitation, and mobilization; and third, toward office-or power-seeking. Each orientation, in its own way, expressed the historical moment. Ideological mass parties of the left were educators and knowledge producers when there was no mass education; they agitated and mobilized in a world of severely limited voting rights; they provided a means to political careers for the nonwealthy in an age in which aristocratic avocational politicians, with no need for a regular salary, were the rule rather than the exception.8 As such the mass party of the left shaped the formation of parties, politicians, political identities, and the boundaries of politics itself. They are major reasons that one can say, in the words of the political scientist Peter Mair, that “above all else, the twentieth century has been the century of the mass party. My approach to the study of center-left parties is comparative, historical, and biographical. I narrow the general task of analyzing mainstream leftism by punctuating a long-term, four-party analysis with emphases on three time periods: the 1920s–1930s, 1950s–1960s, and 1980s–1990s. I construct my explanatory puzzle, leftism’s reinventions, not by measuring policies in these periods but by tracking changes in political language—that is, changes in the most basic stuff of representative politics. Embracing the time-tested sociological principle that historical analysis should be able to tell the “big” story and that of actors on the ground, I account for changes in political language via an analysis of both large-scale institutional transformations and the trajectories, positions, and self-accounts of actors who speak for parties: party experts. Party experts are social actors in party networks who orient their activities toward the production of ideas, rhetoric, and programmatic agendas in political life in the effort to shape how both electorates and politicians view and understand the world. For reasons explained further below, I focus especially on European ministers of finance and their advisory networks and, in the case of the American Democratic Party, on economic advisory networks centered on presidential candidates.

The Dark Knight and the Pupper Master Chris Clarke (2019) 
Renewing Left-Wing Ideas in 20th Century  Britain Max Shock thesis (2020)

Alternative Societies for a Pluralist Socialism Luke Martell (2023)

I’ll Get to that Bridge When I get to It – heretical thoughts on identity politics, 
cancel culture and academic freedom Norman Finkelstein (2023)

Hilary Wainwright on David Marquand Political Quarterly 2025

Monday, November 17, 2025

Is the Left Finished?

I have been reading The Death of the Left – why we must begin from the beginning again S Winlow and S Hall (2022) - a 350 page book which could do with some editing but which contains an admirable mix of sociological analysis and intellectual history. They are both Professors of Criminology 

The left has clearly undergone fundamental change. It no longer offers a genuine alternative to the existing order of things, whether reformist or revolutionary. Now, as we move further into the twenty-first century, the left seems to have discarded its traditional identity as a mass movement intent on achieving political power. It displays little interest in protecting – let alone improving – the prosperity and security of multi-ethnic working populations. Centre-left political projects of the past – such as Roosevelt’s New Deal in the 1930s or the British Labour Party’s programme of economic restructuring after 1945 – achieved electoral success on the back of a compelling range of policy initiatives made comprehensible to their electorates. Electorates continue to yearn for the genuine kind of economic change that would provide a platform of material security. However, today’s left has little to offer.

The left abandoned its traditional commitments and transformed itself into a cultural hub serving mildly apologetic neoliberals and a range of bespoke activist movements that oppose what they see as historical structures of social injustice. This cultural or identitarian left has accepted neoliberalism’s individualised mode of social competition and rejected democratic socialism’s appeal to solidarity and common interests.

Throughout our lives we have invested heavily in the principles and ideals of the left, only to watch it fail, fail again, and then gradually mutate into a clannish, exclusive, intellectually bereft and politically suicidal melee of disparate cultural groups, some of which now appear to be as belligerently disconnected from each other as they are from the population at large.

So far – so good.

Virtually every sphere of intellectual life veered sharply not to the left or the right but towards liberalism. Many other traditional leftist themes atrophied. Individuals, it was argued, should be freed from the authoritarian diktats of an interventionist state, from traditional gender roles and norms, from the expectations of their parents, from heteronormativity, from popular condemnation and censure, from the myths of religion, from ‘morality’, from accepted knowledge and wisdom, and from established biographical patterns. The list grew ever longer as everything solid seemed to melt into air. So much that was previously categorised as known was removed from that category and put into question.

An accompanying critique was levelled at the institutions that seemed to be propping up the supposedly conservative social order: the criminal justice system; the welfare system; the education system; the tax system; religions; marriage; even the established conventions of electoral democracy itself.

A huge amount of effort was poured into proving how the criminal justice system failed, how the welfare system failed, how the education system failed, and so on. Some of this material was of considerable worth. Institutions of this kind were rightly subjected to sustained intellectual critique. However, as the left liberalised, increasingly these institutions were portrayed as inherently and irredeemably oppressive, and in need of abolition rather than reform. Many radical liberal leftists became as unashamedly antagonistic to the state as their radical cousins on the liberal right.

However, as time wore on, the socialists on the right wing of the Labour Party found themselves at first outnumbered and then completely swamped by a new class of right-wing Labourites: these incomers were essentially advocates of the free market, and they believed that the interests of Labour voters would advance if the state withdrew from the formal economy, stepped back from economic management and encouraged investment capital to drive innovation and create employment. Some were directly influenced by the work of Hayek, and keen to convince all who would listen that Keynesianism was over and that the Labour Party could succeed by developing a better understanding of the market. It takes 200 pages for the book to start treating the The New Left

Our analysis here moves away from the practical world of politics and economic planning to explore a range of intellectual matters. This is simply because it is in the realm of ideas that the roots of change are to be found. There can be little doubt that the intellectuals we discuss in this chapter and the next informed the left’s post-war remodelling. By identifying new goals and concerns, and developing new forms of critique, they encouraged the gradual evolution of the left’s political culture, which in turn prompted changes in the practical sphere of leftist politics. The Frankfurt School’s influence in Britain spread slowly and sporadically. Its scholars, greatly influenced by the fields of continental philosophy and psychoanalysis, displayed little interest in academic history. British intellectual culture has always been largely dismissive of the abstractions of continental thought, which is one of the reasons why EP Thompson’s version of cultural Marxism caught on quickly in Britain, and the Frankfurt School’s cultural Marxism did not.

The Frankfurt School, however, made great strides in the United States.

The Frankfurt School’s continued influence there might be better explained by the fact that a number of key Frankfurt School theorists fled from Nazi Germany to the United States and remained there until the 1950s. One might also argue that Frankfurt School Critical Theory contained an undercurrent of hybridised libertarianism and showed little interest in social class or the complexities of the rapidly evolving capitalist system. These features of Critical Theory fitted neatly with the United States’ established characteristics of political radicalism whose critiques of the capitalist economic system are broad and generalised, whereas their critiques of capitalism’s cultural effects are nuanced, multifaceted and, on the whole, unremittingly bleak. The liberal left in the United States tended to treat the capitalist system as a fait accompli, and only in the trade union movement did talk of class linger on into the post-war era. However, the Frankfurt School’s intellectual assault upon Western culture drew a great deal of attention and seemed to give the liberal left in the United States a new lease of life. The Frankfurt School’s criticism of Western civilisation is undoubtedly incisive and occasionally convincing. These were, after all – especially Theodor Adorno and Walter Benjamin – intellectuals of genuinely historical significance. Their attack was unrelenting, and they certainly managed to land some effective blows. For the Frankfurt School, Western civilisation was brutal and strewn with manifold injustices. It had been built on tyranny and oppression and had stripped man of his humanity and freedom. It was not simply the working class that suffered. All groups from across the social hierarchy were invited to gaze into the Frankfurt School’s deep well of cultural criticism to find resources that could be used to explain their diverse discontents.

Postmodernism was built upon the negative conception of liberty we commonly associate with the neoliberal right whereas the reforms pursued by traditional socialism, and those put into practice by social democratic governments during the first half of the twentieth century, reflected a commitment to positive social liberty. However, over and above minimal welfare provision, postmodernists saw nothing in modern social democracy worthy of commendation or preservation. Social democratic interventions produced, they argued, freedom-sapping bureaucracies geared towards the reproduction of cultural uniformity and the status quo.

The Chapter on Postmodernism focuses very much on Foucault and is where the book begins to lose its way. But it is the chapter “Identity Politics” which I find incoherent rubbish

Postmodernism accelerated existing processes that were already liberalising the left and moving it further away from its traditional values, policies and sources of support. In advocating a creative individualism free from the intrusions of the state and the judgements of the social order, it also paved the way for contemporary identity politics. However, the truth of the matter is that post-structuralism played a more active role in determining the shape and content of twenty-first-century identity politics. Postmodernism and post-structuralism are often conflated, but to shed light on the intellectual foundations of identity politics, we need to briefly disentangle these two terms.

In future posts I hope to explore other books on this theme.

Friday, October 31, 2025

In Praise of Bibliographical Essays

Last April I posted on this theme

Readers are aware of the rather eccentric stress this blog puts on the importance of 
books having annotated bibliographies. Last year Penguin published 
Why Politics Fails – the 5 traps of the  modern world and how to escape them  
Ben Ansell (2023) which ends with a rare essay which covers, for each chapter, the key 
books the author has found essential as themes for the lens through which he examines 
democracy, equality, solidarity, security and prosperity. 

The only other book I’ve come across with such an essay is Peter Gay’s 680 page 
magnum opus Modernism – the lure of heresy  (2007) which has a stunning 32 page  
bibliographical essay which, he warned, was “highly selective”! 
Peter Gay was born in Germany in 1923 but his family came to the States via Havana 
in 1941 where he became a prolific US historian – as is evident from this Wikipedia entry.
One of his books is My German Question: Growing Up in Nazi Berlin (1998), a powerful 
and insightful account of his teenage years in Berlin. 
Another which also has an extensive bib essay is Freud – a Life for our Times (1988) 
whose bib essay extends to 76 pages. The book does, after all, have 1350 pages! 
For me, such bibliographical essays are rare gems which offer an opportunity to understand 
an author’s preferences.

Yesterday I came across another book with a great bibliographical essay - 
Christopher Lasch’s The True and Only Heaven published in 1991. It’s essay is only 50 
pages long!

Thursday, October 30, 2025

A Bibliography

I said yesterday that I had enjoyed Paul Kingsnorth’s Against the Machine – on the unmaking of humanity (2025) partly by virtue of the frequency with which he mentions book titles. Just some of the books mentioned by Kingsnorth which I subsequently downloaded


Wednesday, October 29, 2025

AGAINST THE MACHINE

 I’ve been reading Paul Kingsnorth‘s latest book Against the Machine – on the unmaking of humanity (2025). Kingsnorth is an investigative journalist and green activist, known for his Dark Mountain project and The Abbey of Misrule site. One of the reasons I’m attracted to the book is the way Kingsnorth integrates into the text quite naturally references to long forgotten figures such as Lewis Mumford and Stephen Toulmin

We have arrived at the point which the writers I have explored so far—Oswald Spengler, Christopher Lasch, Robert Bly, Patrick Deneen, Simone Weil, Ian McGilchrist and others—warned us we would come to. It is the point at which our underlying cultural and spiritual brokenness is manifesting on the surface as politics, with explosive results. This is the result of the Great Unsettling: a time and place where nothing seems to be solid, comforting or even real.

This process has been accelerated a thousandfold by the arrival of the internet, and particularly social media, which, as the psychologist Jonathan Haidt has argued, has had the same impact as the collapse of the tower of Babel: ‘people wandering amid the ruins, unable to communicate,condemned to mutual incomprehension.’p152 

Paul Kingsnorth goes on to argue that

The ‘decline of the West’ which is so hotly debated right now is, in my view, not a matter of the wrong people being in charge, or the wrong economic policies being pursued. It is not due to the rise of China or Russia, or racism, or ‘misinformation’, or nasty populists, or the institutionalisation of ‘woke’ ideology. As such, it will not be solved by tougher border controls, or radical rightist governments, or revolutions, or ‘decolonisation’, or controls on freedom of speech in the name of ‘protecting our democracy’. Any number of these things might or might not be real or true or desirable, but they are symptoms, not causes, of our malaise. The malaise is deeper, older, more interesting and far more consequential than any of this, and it affects the very basis of our humanity. What happens next will determine what it means to be human in the twenty-first century and beyond.

This book seeks to tell the tale of this Machine: what it is, where it came from, and where it is taking us next. Drawing from history, from religion, from current events and from the work of many other writers and thinkers, it aims to pin down the shape and genesis of this thing. My inquiry is divided into four parts. Part one explores the roots of the current Western cultural malaise. Part two explains where the Machine came from, and how it contributed to that problem. Part three examines how its values manifest around us today, and what they are destroying. Part four offers a guide to practical and spiritual survival and resistance.

But while I learned this early, it was much later that I learned something else, dimly and slowly, through my study of history, mythology and, well, people: that every culture, whether it knows it or not, is built around a sacred order. This does not, of course, need to be a Christian order. It could be Islamic, Hindu or Daoist. It could be based around the veneration of ancestors or the worship of Odin. But there is a throne at the heart of every culture, and whoever sits on it will be the force you take your instruction from.

The modern experiment has been the act of dethroning both literal human sovereigns and the representatives of the sacred order, and replacing them with purely human, and purely abstract, notions—‘the people’ or ‘liberty’ or ‘democracy’ or ‘progress’. I’m all for liberty, and it would be nice to give democracy a try one day too; but the dethroning of the sovereign—Christ—who sat at the heart of the Western sacred order has not led to universal equality and justice. It has led, via a bloody shortcut through Robespierre, Stalin and Hitler, to the complete triumph of the power of money, which has splintered our culture and our souls into a million angry shards.

Sometimes, his writing can seem a bit excessive -

You can judge a culture, I think, by its tallest buildings; what it chooses to reach towards is a reflection of its soul and purpose. The tallest buildings in a modern city are not cathedrals, temples, or even palaces: they are skyscrapers, which are homes to banks, finance houses and global corporations. (p85) And so we find ourselves in the age of AI and apps for everything, with CCTV cameras on every street corner, our opinions manufactured by interest groups, our communications tracked and monitored, wondering what is true or who we can believe, and feeling, day by day, like we have less agency, less control, less humanity than ever before. In the future that is offered to us we are not even cogs in the Machine, for the Machine can increasingly operate without human input. Mumford, as ever, is bracingly frank about where this leads:

Never before has the ‘citadel’ exercised such atrocious power over the rest of the human race. Over the greater part of history, the village and the countryside remained a constant reservoir of fresh life, constrained indeed by the ancestral patterns of behaviour that had helped make man human, but with a sense of both human limitations and human possibilities. No matter what the errors and aberrations of the rulers of the city, they were still correctible. Even if whole urban populations were destroyed, more than nine tenths of the human race still remained outside the circle of destruction. Today this factor of safety has gone: the metropolitan explosion has carried both the ideological and the chemical poisons of the metropolis to every part of the earth; and the final damage may be irretrievable.

Back to Kingsnorth -

One man who tried back in the 1960s, when an unquestioning faith in science and its offspring, technology, was roaring across the Western world, was the French thinker Jacques Ellul. Ellul’s 1964 book “The Technological Society” attempted to understand and explain what the Machine was made of. Its thesis is that the society we live in today—which he predicted with accuracy—represents a fundamental, qualitative change in what it means to be human (p113). Around the same time that Robert Bly was writing “The Sibling Society”, another American thinker, Christopher Lasch, was also predicting a future of elite colonisation. In “The Revolt of the Elites”, Lasch forecast the future accurately. ‘The culture wars that have convulsed America since the sixties’, he wrote, ‘are best understood as a form of class warfare, in which an enlightened elite (as it thinks of itself) seeks not so much to impose its values on the majority (a majority perceived as incorrigibly racist, sexist, provincial and xenophobic), much less to persuade the majority by means of rational public debate, as to create parallel or “alternative” institutions in which it will no longer be necessary to confront the unenlightened at all.’ p135

What if the ideology of the corporate world and the ideology of the ‘progressive’ left had not forged an inexplicable marriage of convenience, but had grown all along from the same rootstock? What if the left and global capitalism are, at base, the same thing: engines for destroying customary ways of living and replacing them with the new world of the Machine? (p142) It’s not hard to see that progressive leftism and the machine, far from being antagonistic, are a usefully snug fit. Both are totalising, utopian projects. Both are suspicious of the past, impatient with borders and boundaries, and hostile to religion, ‘superstition’ and the limits on the human individual imposed by nature or culture. Both are in pursuit of a global utopia where, in the dreams of both Lenin and Lennon, the world will live as one.

Kingsnorth continues -

We have arrived at the point which the writers I have explored so far—Oswald Spengler, Christopher Lasch, Robert Bly, Patrick Deneen, Simone Weil and others—warned us we would come to. It is the point at which our underlying cultural and spiritual brokenness is manifesting on the surface as politics, with explosive results. This is the result of the Great Unsettling: a time and place where nothing seems to be solid, comforting or even real.

This process has been accelerated a thousandfold by the arrival of the internet, and particularly social media, which, as the psychologist Jonathan Haidt has argued, has had the same impact as the collapse of the tower of Babel: ‘people wandering amid the ruins, unable to communicate,  condemned to mutual incomprehension.’(p152)

The West’ is, above all, a way of seeing—a way of looking out at the world. Once, that gaze was Christian, but it has not been that way for a long time now. The contemporary Western gaze is the gaze of the Machine; of Enlightenment Man, of cosmopolis, of reason, of money. And it is because this gaze has been unable for centuries to appreciate that the world in its fullness that we have come so unstuck. If we are going to get stuck again, as it were, we will need to learn to see the world very differently. (p236)

McGilchrist’s thesis boils down, in simple terms, to brain hemispheres. All animal brains are divided into two hemispheres, joined by a thin band of connecting tissue, and nobody quite knows why. What they do know, according to McGilchrist, is that each hemisphere has its own particular way of seeing—or, as he puts it, ways of ‘attending to the world’. This does not break down according to the popular stereotype, in which the ‘left brain’ is masculine, scientific, rational and cold and the ‘right brain’ is feminine, intuitive, artistic and warm. Rather, according to McGilchrist, ‘the brain’s left hemisphere is designed to help us ap-prehend—and thus manipulate—the world; the right hemisphere to com-prehend it’. The left and right hemispheres seem to have very specific ways of relating to their world. The left’s way is the way of certainty, manipulation, detail, the local and familiar, the isolated, discrete and fragmentary. Its world is fixed, decontextualised, inanimate, general and optimistic. The right, on the other hand, sees the whole picture, notices the peripheries and is comfortable with the new, ambiguous, circumspect and complex. It attends to change, flow, context, the animate, narratives, the pragmatic, empathy and emotional expressivity, and it tends towards pessimism.

But something happened, posits McGilchrist, over the course of Western history. In this little part of the world, there was a revolution. At some point, or perhaps at many points, the left hemisphere—the emissary—overthrew the right—the master—and began to run the show itself. Instead of the parts being in service to the whole, the whole became diminished or dismissed by a perspective that could only see the world as a collection of parts. The result is the Machine mind, and the irony is ‘that the very brain mechanisms which succeed in simplifying the world so as to subject it to our control militate against a true understanding of it. Meanwhile, compounding the problem, we take the success we have in manipulating it as proof that we understand it.’

The upshot, says McGilchrist, is that ‘we no longer live in the presence of the world, but rather in a re-presentation of it’.[2] There is no territory in this new world, only map. Those who can see this, and try to point it out, are dismissed as ‘romantics’, ‘nostalgics’, ‘reactionaries’ or ‘dreamers’. The left hemisphere’s world is taken to be reality, whereas it is, in fact, only an inadequate representation of it. The result, says McGilchrist, is an age that is literally unprecedented in human history. ‘We exist in the world, of course’, he writes, ‘but we no longer belong in this world—or any world worthy of the name. We have unmade the world. This is entirely new in the history of humanity and it is impossible to exaggerate its significance’.

The age of AI, the metaverse and the deepening technosphere both results from and turbocharges this way of seeing, to the point that we are now losing contact with reality altogether, all the time imagining that we are ‘progressing’ towards it. ‘Machines and tools’, notes McGilchrist matter-of- factly at one point, ‘are alone coded in the left hemisphere.’ It is the left hemisphere which built Silicon Valley, and Silicon Valley which built us. He believes that ‘we have systematically misunderstood the nature of reality, and chosen to ignore, or silence, the minority of voices that have intuited as much and consistently maintained that this is the case’. Now, as a result, ‘we have reached the point where there is an urgent need to transform both how we think about the world and what we make of ourselves’.

In short, ‘the West’ as we know it today is an overwhelmingly left hemisphere culture, and this descent into a narrow way of seeing has been accelerating as modernity has progressed. At one point, McGilchrist even makes the startling claim that Western art from the modernist period onward often looks like the kind of representation of the world that is produced by people who have suffered brain damage to the right hemisphere, and he is neither being insulting nor speaking metaphorically. Are we in ‘the West’ literally a culture with brain damage? It would explain a lot. P238

I have written already about the Four Ps—people, place, prayer, the past —which could be said to underpin traditional culture, and the Four Ss—sex, science, the self and the screen—with which Machine modernity has replaced them. A reactionary radicalism could be usefully defined as an active attempt at creating, defending or restoring a moral economy built around the four Ps (p252)

This, then, is my idea of an anti-Machine politics. A reactionary radicalism, its face set against Progress Theology, which aims to defend or build a moral economy at the human scale, which rejects the atomised individualism of the liberal era and understands that materialism as a worldview has failed us. A politics which embraces family and home and place, loving the particular without excluding the outsider, and which looks on all great agglomerations of power with suspicion. The rejection of abstract ideologies in favour of real-world responses, and an understanding that material progress always comes with a hidden price tag. A politics which aims to limit rather than multiply our needs, which strategically opposes any technology which threatens the moral economy and which, finally, seeks a moral order to society which is based on love of neighbour rather than competition with everyone.


Monday, October 27, 2025

The Humanitarian Impulse is alive and well – exemplified in Mondragon

I haven’t posted enough about Mondragon and the shining example it offers about the potential of workers’ cooperativesA young American, Ellie Griffin, from Utah state recently published The Elysian Manifesto

Once we wrote constitutions and built governments, the work was done and our future became fixed. The pamphlets stopped. The illuminated ideas ceased. We no longer amend our constitution or reinvent our governments. You wouldn’t see something like Thomas Paine’s Common Sense or Alexander Hamilton’s Federalist Papers published today—something that would “decide the important question, whether societies of men are really capable or not, of establishing good government from reflection and choice.” Instead, we cover all of the ways our systems are failing without imagining what better ones could be.

Journalism is no longer about thinking up solutions, it’s about reporting on the problems. Even our fiction is dystopian. Our science fiction writers can only imagine a future plagued by AI apocalypse, government surveillance, computer chips in our brains, and space colonies that take us away from the polluted world we created. If even our best literary minds cannot imagine a better future, how are we supposed to create it?

That’s why I’ve created the Elysian League—a utopian garden where we can study philosophy and debate politics and rethink capitalism and enjoy contemplative leisure and be part of a new Enlightenment. It’s a place where we can think through a more beautiful future through essays and literature and discourse. And I’m just optimistic enough to believe that’s enough of a start to building one. The Elysian League is the Enlightenment social club made modern, and this Manifesto is my entry into the utopian canon

Her blog is a celebration of Mondragon with such posts as

For readers wanting to know more about cooperatives I strongly recommend

socialism and the transition roward it Geert Reuten (2023)
The Routledge Handbook of Cooperative Economics and Management ed JN Warren et al 
(2025)