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Title: Liberalism and Social Control
Author: Kevin Carson
Date: May 2000
Language: en
Topics: liberalism, social control, social classes
Source: Retrieved on 3rd September 2021 from http://www.mutualist.org/id7.html

Kevin Carson

Liberalism and Social Control

Twentieth century liberalism, as an ideology of social control, goes

back to the Progressive movement in this counry and Fabianism in

Britain. Its primary base of support was the New Class of social

engineers, planners, technocrats and “helping professionals” who saw

themselves as divinely appointed to manage the lower orders for their

own good. Although the term “New Class” was coined by Milovan Djilas to

describe the bureaucratic collectivism of communist society, it is well

suited for the ruling class under welfare state liberalism. Orwell’s

description of this class is as good as any.

The new aristocracy was made up for the most part of bureaucrats,

scientists, technicians, trade-union organizers, publicity experts,

sociologists, teachers, journalists, and professional politicians. These

people, whose origins lay in the salaried middle class and the upper

grades of the working class, had been shaped and brought together by the

barren world of monopoly industry and centralized government.

Walter Lippmann described the phenomenon from a much friendlier

perspective in Public Opinion:

The Great Society had grown furiously and to colossal dimensions by the

application of technical knowledge. It was made by engineers who had

learned to use exact measurements and quantitative analysis. It could

not be governed, men began to discover, by men who thought deductively

about rights and wrongs. It could be brought under human control only by

the technic which had created it. Gradually, then, the more enlightened

directing minds have called in experts who were trained, or had trained

themselves, to make parts of this Great Society intelligible to those

who manage it. These men are known by all kinds of names, as

statisticians, accountants, auditors, industrial counsellors, engineers

of many species, scientific managers, personnel administrators, research

men, “scientists,” and sometimes just as plain private secretaries [pp.

233–234].

The central theme of this new class ideology, as Joel Spring put it

[Education and the Rise of the Corporate State p. xiii], was that “the

good society meant the efficiently organized society that was producing

the maximum amount of goods”--and the most efficient social institutions

for this purpose were “[l]arge organizational units and centralized

government.” The ordinary person was “viewed as a raw material whose

worth was determined by his contribution to the system.”

Christopher Lasch, a left-wing populist who sounded at times

suspiciously like a social conservative, defined the New Class ideology

in terms of the ethos of “professionalism.” The Jeffersonian ideal of

the independent yeoman farmer or tradesman--a well-rounded citizen

capable of competently handling all issues that affected his daily

life--was, in the view of the Progressives, obsolete. Instead, every

aspect of life was to be “professionalized,” handed over to a class of

“experts” protected from interference by the lower orders [Revolt of the

Elites; The Culture of Narcissism; The True and Only Heaven]. This was

unabashedly argued in The Promise of American Life by Herbert Croly, who

sought to obtain “Jeffersonian ends with Hamiltonian means.” In this

progressive manifesto, he praised “experts” and “intellectuals” in

almost messianic terms.

Barton Bledstein admirably described this fetish [The Culture of

Professionalism: The Middle Class and the Development of Higher

Education in America, in Boyte]:

The citizen became a client whose obligation was to trust the

professional. Legitimate authority now resided in special places like

the courtroom, the classroom, and the hospital; and it resided in

special words shared only by experts.

John McKnight, in a speech to the 1976 retreat of the Brainerd, Minn.

Community Planning Organization [“Are the Helping Systems Doing More

Harm Than Good?” in Boyte pp. 173–174], described the ways the “helping

professions” infantilize ordinary citizens.

When the capacity to define the problem becomes a professional

prerogative, citizens no longer exist. The prerogative removes the

citizen as problem definer, much less problem solver. It translates

political functions into technical and technological problems.

It is important to remember that the New Class’ dream of professional

control of the population did not arise in a vacuum. Liberal social

engineering was not the only alternative to exploitation by robber

barons. The working class in the nineteenth century had its own culture

and institutions, and was attempting to build a society in which workers

themselves controlled all the things that affected their daily lives.

Working class children in England sometimes attended “penny a week

schools” taught by an aged or crippled worker; the artisan class

contained a large proportion of self-educated people, some of them

remarkably well-read in the political controversies of the time (many

radical leaders were master tradesmen who found time to educate

themselves during breaks in their work); friendly societies often

subscribed in common to the radical press and met to read and debate [E.

P. Thompson, Chapter Sixteen, “Class Consciousness,” in The Making of

the English Working Class].

Genuine working class unions, built from the bottom up and controlled by

workers themselves, aimed at direct workers’ control of the production

process. Workers’ organizations for self-help and mutual aid included

collections for charity, and “friendly societies” organized on a

subscription basis to insure members against funerals and sickness [They

are described in the later chapters of Kropotkin’s Mutual Aid and in E.

P. Thompson’s chapter on “Community”]. So every function of the

“progressive” welfare state so beloved of Arthur Schlesinger Jr. was

already being attempted by the workers themselves--but organized from

the bottom up, instead of handed down from on high by paternalistic

liberals.

The main shortcomings of working class self-organization were those

imposed from outside--i.e., lack of resources, and active suppression by

the state. Had the working class been free to organize without

interference by the state--and more importantly, had they had the full

product of their labor to dispose of--their provisions for their own

health, education and welfare would have been far superior to anything

doled out by the state. But goo-goos like Schlesinger ignore the fact

that the welfare state was created precisely in order to prevent the

working class from organizing to keep the product of their own labor and

control their work. The entire “progressive” agenda in the twentieth

century was oriented, not toward ending the framework of state policy

that supported corporate rule, but increasing state intervention to make

corporate rule more bearable.

The New class saw such self-organization as an atavism, to be eliminated

with all the other imperfections of the past when society was

reorganized under the benevolent rule of “professionals.” Working class

institutions were either supplanted or destroyed: working class free

schools were rendered “obsolete” by state schools, and in the process

the New Class ideology achieved hegemony over the minds of children;

organs of self-help were encouraged to wither away by the “helping

professions”; syndicalist unions controlled by the rank and file, and

the vibrant labor press, were liquidated by good “liberals” during

Wilson’s Red Scare.

One of the best pictures of the ideal world envisioned by the New Class

was drawn by Hilaire Belloc in The Servile State. Belloc believed Fabian

collectivism to be less dedicated to state or workers’ ownership as such

than to the idea of control by “efficient” centralized organizations. It

would be politically impossible to carry out expropriation of the large

capitalists. Therefore, attempts to regulate industry to make labor more

bearable, and to create a minimal welfare state, would lead instead to a

system in which employers would be compelled to provide a minimum level

of comfort and economic security for their employees in return for

guaranteed profits. The working class would be reduced to a state of

near-serfdom, with legally-defined status replacing the right of free

contract, and the state fitting the individual into a lifetime niche in

the industrial machine. Such a society would appeal to the authoritarian

kind of socialist, whose chief values were efficiency and control.

Let laws exist which make the proper housing, feeding, clothing, and

recreation of the proletarian mass be incumbent upon the possessing

class, and the observance of such rules be imposed, by inspection and

punishment, upon those whom he pretends to benefit, and all that he

really cares for will be achieved [Ibid. pp. 146–147].

Belloc was horrified by bloodless Fabians like H. G. Wells and the

Webbs, who dabbled in social engineering in addition to their many other

hobbies. The Fabian movement preferred working within existing

institutions to make capitalism more stable and humane. Since it

coincided with the rise of “Progressive” industrialists--who envisioned

cooperation between business, government and labor in the interest of

efficiency--the two phenomena reinforced each other to promote class

rule by men in suits who sat behind desks. In place of the classical

socialist movement of the nineteenth century, aiming at workers’ control

of production and largely made up of real workers, the Fabians and

Progressives substituted management of workers by their betters. As

Belloc pointed out, if only their lust to manage and regiment the

underclass were satisfied, the Fabians would be quite accomodating about

capitalist ownership.

Wells favored a minimum safety net of aid to the children of the

destitute, in return for responsibility of parents to the state, on pain

of rehabilitation in “celibate labor establishments.” Minimum wages and

housing standards would be designed, not to guarantee subsistence to

poor families, but to end the availability of cheap housing and

low-paying jobs on which the destitute subsisted. The goal was to cease

perpetuating “the educationally and technically unadaptable elements in

the population” and to breed “a more efficient race by increased state

supervision,” in Wells’ words to “convince these people that to bear

children into such an unfavorable atmosphere is an extremely

inconvenient and undesirable thing.”

The Webbs wanted relief conditioned on “treatment and disciplinary

supervision,” with local government councils imposing compulsory

vaccination and determining who was “mentally defective or an excessive

drinker” (these things became a reality in the Swedish “social

democracy”). Those too unemployable even for the “compulsory labor

exchanges” would be required to attend training camps, with “their whole

time mapped out in a continuous and properly varied program of physical

and mental work, all of it being made of the utmost educational value.”

Those refusing to cooperate would be sent to “Reformatory Detention

Colonies” [Wells, Mankind in the Making; the Webbs, The Prevention of

Destitution; John P. McCarthy, Hilaire Belloc, Edwardian Radical].

This “liberalism” reached maturity during World War I, when a group of

statist intellectuals grouped around the British War Office, the Wilson

administration, and The New Republic, invented the modern science of

propaganda as a tool to engineer public support for the war. Some

members of this circle, like Walter Lippmann and Harold Lasswell, went

on to develop theories of “spectator democracy,” in which the masses

choose among elite candidates every four years, and sit down and shut up

the rest of the time.

It is instructive to compare the composition of the socialist movement

before and after Wilson. Before the Great War, Socialist Party

congressmen, mayors, etc., were elected by Montana miners, Milwaukee

brewers, and Oklahoma oil workers. After the Wilsonian terror, the rare

“socialist” politician comes from a yuppie hog heaven like Burlington,

Vt., and the main demographic base for socialism is academia.

Human services departments today are a favorite habitat of authoritarian

statists. The welfare state, portrayed by conservatives as an instrument

of class warfare, is really an instrument of class rule. It regulates

the underclass so as to prevent class warfare from threatening the neat,

comfortable, antiseptic world of the New Class. The Progressive Jacob

Riis, in How the Other Half Lives, warned spell-bound middle class

readers of the “Man with the Knife,” the anarchist raising “the

danger-cry... the shout that never should have been raised on American

soil... the solution of violence [in Spring p. 5].” Despite the

illusions of aging New Deal Democrats who live in an Arthur Schlesinger

time warp, this is the real origin of the welfare state.

Piven and Cloward argue that the two major expansions of the welfare

state, under FDR and LBJ, were both spurred by drastic increases in

social disorder, with the unemployed and homeless participating in

violent demonstrations and being drawn to radical movements [Regulating

the Poor]. The welfare bureaucracy serves three functions: it takes the

edge off of potential underclass radicalism by minimizing outright

homelessness and starvation; it subjects its clients to close

supervision by a network of case-workers who make sure they don’t get up

to any subversive mischief; and it enforces labor discipline by making

the system as unpleasant as possible and scaring away all but the

hard-core unemployable.

The most egregious example of the New Class sense of divine right can be

seen among the ideologues of the “public” education establishment. Joel

Spring draws a close parallel between early Progressivism in society at

large and public educationism as a microcosm of that ideology, with the

schools being “a central institution for the production of men and women

who conformed to the needs and expectations of a corporate and

technocratic world” [op. cit. p. 1]. The state school systems were

organized about the time that large factories began to need a docile,

obedient work force that was trained to line up on command and eat and

piss at the sound of a bell. In the words of Edgar Z. Friedenberg,

Whatever the needs of young people might have been, no public school

system developed in response to them until an industrial society arose

to demand the creation of holding pens from which a steady and carefully

monitored supply of people trained to be punctual, literate, orderly and

compliant and graded according to qualities determining employability

from the employers’ point of view could be released into the economy as

needed [The Disposal of Liberty and Other Industrial Wastes p. 16].

Public educationists have never been bashful about their self-appointed

mission: to take pieces of human “raw material” from their families and

transform them into useful servants of the State. James Mill, for

example, saw the task of the schools as being “to train the minds of the

people to a virtuous attachment to their government.” The writings of

leading figures in departments of education, teachers’ colleges, the NEA

and the AFT, were full to overflowing with statements to this effect.

William Bagley’s Classroom Management was the standard teacher’s manual

for two decades, reprinted thirty times between 1907 and 1927. It

recommended machine-like organization as the “educative force” for

“slowly transforming the child from a little savage into a creature of

law and order, fit for the life of civilized society.” A teacher’s

efficiency could be judged by “the manner in which lines pass to and

from the room.” He recommended the establishment of “regular habits...

with regard to the bodily functions,” and conditioning to assume a

posture of “head erect, eyes turned toward the teacher, hands... folded”

upon hearing the command “Attention!” [Spring pp. 46–47]. The

sociologist Edward Ross, in his 1890s Social Control, treated

school-sponsored extracurricular activity as “an economical system of

police” [Spring p. 75].

The educrats’ mania for social engineering dovetails nicely with the

corporate state’s need for easily controlled drones. From the very

beginning of the factory system, the more “benevolent” owners tried to

exercise paternalistic control over the social lives and morals of their

employees, with experiments in “company planned self-improvement

programs or moral and ethical instruction” to weed out those prone to

“immoral conduct, bad language, disrespect, or... an improper attitude.”

The goal was to create healthy, well-adjusted workers and prevent the

emergence of a “depraved and shiftless” proletariat on the European

model. “The combination of work, self-improvement through education, and

moral scrutiny created a wedding between the church, the school, and the

factory” [Spring pp. 22–23].

This tendency was rapidly augmented by an arsenal of pseudo-science;

personality and aptitude testing evolved into a new industry under

school guidance counselors and “human resources” departments. The most

ominous development of human engineering is the “school to work”

movement. Currently, all fifty states receive federal grants under the

terms of the School to Work Opportunities Act of 1994. When fully

implemented, the program calls for “comprehensive career guidance” for

every student by seventh grade at the latest. He is to adopt a “career

major” within an occupational area, with available choices to be

prescribed by a local planning board based on projected “need.” Students

at graduation receive “certificates of mastery,” based on national

standards being developed by the National Skill Standards Board. If the

program develops as envisioned, it will evolve into a system of

certification for all occupations, with the federal government using tax

and regulatory powers to “encourage” businesses to hire only those with

certificates of mastery [Gary Wolfram, “School to Work].

Most of the Progressive-era “good government” reforms were aimed at

“professionalizing” government and removing it from “politics”--that is,

placing the rule of “experts” safely beyond interference by the great

unwashed. In the words of FDR, “The day of the Politician is past; the

day of the Enlightened Administrator has come.”

The replacement of ward representation with at-large election resulted

(in Pittsburg’s 1911 “reform,” for example) in transformation of a

council made up of two-thirds common workmen, tradesmen, clerks and

shop-keepers, into one composed entirely of “professionals” and

“prominent businessmen” [Spring p. 86]. The replacement of neighborhood

control with city-wide school boards and superintendents was similarly

designed to remove education from parental influence and give it over to

the care of properly trained “professionals.” The intergovernmental

“authority,” pioneered in America by the New York Port Authority and

Robert Moses’ Long Island highway system, like many methods of

authoritarian government, was resurrected from British law and adopted

near-universally as a form of “professional” government beyond the

control of the electorate.

The New Class ideology of “progressivism” appeared in the workplace in

the form of “scientific management.” The goal of Taylorism was to take

the management of work as much as possible away from master craftsmen on

the shop floor, and eliminate the initiative and independent judgment of

the worker. The blue collar worker was to be deskilled, and expertise

shifted upward into the ranks of salaried white-collar engineers.

Management would determine the most efficient way of organizing

production, and tasks would be transformed into rote repetition which

engaged the mental faculties as little as possible. Workers were to be

taught in no uncertain terms that they were paid to do as they were

told, not to think. The bosses feared that, if workers controlled the

production process, they might realize that the bosses were parasites

and, in the words of the Wobbly slogan, “fire the boss.” [Stephen

Marglin, William Lazonick, David Montgomery, David Noble and Katherine

Stone have produced an excellent body of work on this trend].

Taylorism was accepted by the labor establishment in the devil’s bargain

of the New Deal. The Wagner Act was supported by corporations engaged in

high-tech, export-oriented production, because labor costs were a

relatively insignificant part of their total costs, and they needed

long-term stability and predictability in the workplace. The Wagner Act

ended the genuine revolution that was taking place on the shop floors of

Detroit and the docks of San Francisco, coopted the CIO leadership as

part of the corporate establishment, and turned unions into enforcers of

labor discipline. The position of the new labor bureaucrats was “Let the

bosses manage, as long as they pay us good.” The result was that a labor

establishment dominated by mediocrities like George Meany was willing to

purge itself, during the Cold War, of the same leftist radicals who had

led workers to victory in the mid-30s.

William F. Buckley said somewhere that he’d rather be governed by people

randomly chosen from the Cambridge, Mass. phone book than by fifty

Harvard professors. True enough; but the same holds true in the

workplace. I’ll take a decision made by workers on the shop floor over

one made by a boss any day.

Conservatives who complain of “left-liberals” and otherwise treat

liberalism/progressivism as synonymous with leftism are sadly mistaken.

There is nothing left-wing about liberalism. As Chomsky wrote somewhere

about the press, they may be “liberal” in the sense that they favor gun

control and “a woman’s right to choose,” and listen to NPR a lot; but

they are far from “left wing” in the sense of a genuine criticism of the

institutional power structure in this society.

In fact, liberalism closely parallels Leninism as a pseudo-leftist

ideology of social control by the New Class. Leninism and liberalism

between them wiped out the genuine (i.e., libertarian, populist) left

from a major part of the world. Woodrow Wilson, A. Mitchell Palmer, and

their liberal storm troopers tossed hundreds of Wobblies, socialists,

anarchists, Nonpartisan Leaguers and other leftists into prison under

the provisions of the Espionage act and state criminal syndicalism laws;

many thousands of anarchists and libertarian socialists, labelled

“saboteurs” and collaborators with White forces, disappeared into

Lenin’s gulag. Ever since then, the conventional “left” has been a

movement largely of academics and pseudo-intellectual peckerheads.

Attempts at workers’ control of production met similar resistance both

in Lenin’s Russia and in corporate America. Although management of

factories by workers’ committees compared favorably to pre-revolutionary

managers, Lenin and Trotskky placed them under increasing restrictions

by the people’s commissariats, finally replacing them with

state-appointed managers. In an April 1918 Izvestiya article, Lenin

praised Taylor’s “scientific management” methods and argued that, in the

name of the proletarian revolution, workers should unquestioningly

submit to one-man management of production [Maurice Brinton, Workers’

Control in the Bolshevik Revolution]. American corporate experiments

with worker self-management were abandoned, even when they resulted in

drastic productivity increases and reductions in absenteeism and injury.

The reason, in both countries, was that social control was more

important than productivity. If workers saw how much better they could

organize production without the foreman, they might try to decide

questions of what and why, instead of just how--and fire the board of

directors or people’s commissar.

New Class progressivism continued to flourish among welfare statists

after WWII; it heavily influenced both interest group pluralism and

neo-conservatism, and the shadowy borderlands in-between. Among others

this includes Daniel Bell, Samuel P. Huntington, Zbigniew Brzezinski,

and Francis Fukuyama. The most notable modern descendant of the

“progressive” social engineer, by the way, is Hillary Clinton. Her ideal

government is a giant matriarch, like Godzilla in an apron, who

constantly chants “Momma don’t allow, Momma don’t allow”--all to protect

us from ourselves, of course. Or as Joseph Stromberg wrote, “the body of

Leviathan and the head of a social worker.” Those who view Hillary as a

radical leftist are delusional. A woman who made a 10,000% profit in

cattle futures and served as a director of Wal-Mart, is hardly a threat

to the power of the ruling class. She and her ilk just want to protect

upper middle class soccer moms with SUVs and cell phones from any

underclass disruption of their white bread suburban world.

The New Class’ sense of privilege is evidenced by its zealous defense of

the publik skools’ monopoly status (while they send their own kids to

Sidwell Friends); and their relentless struggle against their serfs’

right to bear arms (without touching their right to hire armed guards

for themselves). And then there’s the National Health official from

Quebec who sneaked across the border under an assumed name to get decent

medical care.

There has been a whole host of commentators who have put the New Class

at the center of their analysis. Those who draw the most critical notice

are those on the Right like Peggy Noonan, who focus on what I call the

“soft” New Class. This category includes mainly academics, teachers, and

“helping professionals.” But they tend to ignore the other side of the

phenomenon, in the private sector--the “hard” New Class of managers and

engineers. The paternalistic welfare state and arrogant “public” school

establishment cannot be separated, in their origins, from the rise of

scientific management and the cult of “professionalism” in the

workplace. Both reflect an attempt to alienate the ordinary person from

his own common sense, and rob him of the ability to control the things

that affect his daily life.

The solution to New Class rule is not the spurious populism of the

neocons and New Right. The dittoheads appeal to the “aw, shucks”

sensibility of Norman Rockwell’s America, and play on the producing

classes’ resentment of bureaucrats and welfare deadbeats; but their real

interest is getting government off the backs of bankers, plutocrats, and

CEOs. They carefully conceal the fact that the greatest criminals are in

the corporate boardrooms and the national security state, and the

biggest parasites and deadbeats are the heavily subsidized, privileged

corporations.

The real solution is to revive the kinds of working class

self-organization and direct action which the New Class so despises:

LETS, mutual banks, cooperatives, militant syndicalist unions,

squatting, rent strikes and tenant unions, community-supported

agriculture, etc. We need to appeal to an American populism not limited

by traditional left-right fetishes or sectarianism. We need to fight the

New Class in all its manifestations; while we’re organizing to “fire the

boss,” we should also be fighting to “fire the school board” and “fire

the department of human services.” Those of us on the left who believe

in things like workers’ control, community technolgy, and neighborhood

government, need to find common ground with those on the right who are

into gun rights, home schooling, and free juries. Anyone who believes

that ordinary people should control their own lives and work, and that

producers should keep the fruit of their labor, is an objective ally.

SOURCES

Hilaire Belloc. The Servile State (Indianapolis: Liberty Classics, 1913,

1977).

Harry Boyte. The Backyard Revolution: Understanding the New Citizen

Movement (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1980).

Maurice Brinton. The Bolsheviks and Workers Control.

www.geocities.com

Herbert Croly. The Promise of American Life (Boston: Northeastern

University Press, 1909,1989).

Edgar Z. Friedenberg. The Disposal of Liberty and Other Industrial

Wastes (Garden City, N.J.: Anchor Books, 1976).

Pyotr Kropotkin. Mutual Aid: A Factor of Evolution (New York: Doubleday,

Page & Co., 1909).

Christopher Lasch. The Culture of Narcissism: American Life in an Age of

Diminishing Expectations (New York: Norton, 1978, 1979).

Lasch. The Revolt of the Elites: And the Betrayal of Democracy (New

York: W.W. Norton, 1995).

Lasch. The True and Only Heaven: Progress and its Critics (New York:

Norton, 1991).

Walter Lippmann. Public Opinion (New York: Harcourt, Brace and Co.,

1922).

John P. McCarthy. Hilaire Belloc, Edwardian Radical (Indianapolis:

Liberty Press, 1970).

Frances Fox Piven and Richard A. Cloward. Regulating the Poor: The

Functions of Public Welfare (New York: Vintage Books, 1971, 1993).

Joel Spring. Education and the Rise of the Corporate State (Boston:

Beacon Press, 1972).

E.P. Thompson. The Making of the English Working Class (New York:

Vintage Books, 1963, 1966).

Sidney and Beatrice Webb. The Prevention of Destitution (London, New

York: Longmans, Green and Co., 1911).

H.G. Wells. Mankind in the Making (New York: Scribner’s Sons, 1909).

Gary Wolfram. “School to Work: A Large Step Down the Road to Serfdom,”

Ideas on Liberty, Sept. 1999.