CONTEMPORARYPOLITICALTHINKERS Introduction Jeremy Bentham (17481832) was a British jurist, philosopher and social reformer.

He is considered as the founder of modern utilitarianism. Bentham became a leading theorist in Anglo-American philosophy of law, and a political radical whose ideas prejudiced the development of welfares. He advocated economic freedom, the freedom of expression, separation of church and the state, equal rights for women, the right to divorce, and the decriminalizing of homosexual acts. He called for the abolition of slavery, the elimination of the death penalty, and the elimination of physical punishment, including that of children. He has also become known in recent years as an untimely advocate of animal rights. Though strongly in favour of the extension of individual legal rights, he opposed the idea of natural rights and natural law calling them nonsense upon stilts. John Stuart Mill (1806-1873), British philosopher, moral and political theorist, economist, and th administrator, was the most significant English-speaking philosopher of the 19 century. His views are of enduring significance, and are usually recognized to be among the deepest and surely the most effective defenses of empiricism and of a liberal political view of society and culture. The overall aim of his philosophy is to develop a positive view of the universe and the place of humans in it, one which contributes to the development of human knowledge, individual human well-being and freedom. His views are not completely original, having their roots in the British empiricism of George Berkeley and David Hume, John Locke, and in the utilitarianism of Jeremy Bentham. But he gave them a new depth, and his formulations were adequately articulate to gain for them an ongoing influence among a broad public. Karl Marx (18181883) is best known not as a philosopher but as a radical communist, whose works inspired the foundation of a lot of communist regimes in the twentieth century. It is hard to think of many who have had as much influence in the creation of the contemporary world. Trained as a philosopher, Marx turned away from philosophy in his mid-twenties, towards politics and economics. Though, in addition to his overtly philosophical early work, his later writings have many points of contact with contemporary philosophical debates, particularly in the philosophy of history and the social sciences, and in moral and political philosophy. Historical materialismMarxs theory of historyis centered on the idea that forms of society rise and fall as they additional and then impede the development of human productive power. Marx sees the historical procedure as proceeding through an essential series of modes of production, characterized by class struggle, culminating in communism. Marxs economic analysis of capitalism is based on his account of the labour theory of value, and includes the analysis of capitalist profit as the removal of surplus value from the exploited proletariat. The study of history and economics come together in Marxs forecast of the inevitable economic breakdown of capitalism, to be replaced by communism. Though Marx refused to speculate in detail about the nature of communism, arguing that it would arise through historical processes, he was not the realization of a pre-determined ethics ideal. John Rawls (b. 1921, d. 2002) was an American political philosopher in the liberal custom. His theory of justice as fairness envisions a society of free citizens holding equivalent basic rights cooperating within a democratic economic system. His account of political liberalism addresses the legitimate use of political power in a democracy, aiming to show how continuing unity may be achieved despite the diversity of worldviews that free institutions allow. His writings on the law of peoples extend these theories to liberal foreign policy, with the objective of imagining how a peaceful & tolerant international order might be possible. Unit Objectives After going through this unit, you will be able to: Describe the views of Bentham o Explain and analysis the Utilitarianism

o o

Discussion about the Political and legal philosophy Describe the Panopticon

Describe the views of J S Mill o o o Discussion about the Equal Rights for Women Explain views on Individual Liberty Explain and evolution of Representative Government

Discussion about the views of Karl Marx o o o o o o o Describe the Theory of Alienation Discussion about the Strands of Contemporary Marxism Explain the concept of Dialecticism Explain the concept of Historical Materialism Explain and evolution of the State and Revolution Explain the views on Social Revolution Criticism of Marxism

Describe the concept of other Contemporary Political Thinkers

o Discussion and Evolution of Laski on political ideas o Discussion and Evolution of Rawls on political ideas 5.1Bentham 5.1.1 Utilitarianism Jeremy Bentham is regarded as the father of classical utilitarianism. He was part of a movement that wanted radical change in British society without the excesses and violence of the French Revolution. Brought up in a strong Nonconformist religious environment, he became an opponent of both the established Church of England and of the Christian faith in general. Bentham called himself a non-theist. He, like his friend James Mill, rejected the term atheist, as it is impossible for any human being to know whether God exists or not. As anon-theist Bentham rejected morality based on divine authority. He believed that there is one single basis for ethics and that is nature. Nature replaced God as the sole higher authority to which human beings must turn in order to understand themselves, the world and moral life. Bentham, however, never attempted to explain what he means by nature. He assumed that no explanation was required. Bentham developed from this view the idea that morality is the maximization of pleasure in society. He wrote: Nature has placed mankind under the governance of two sovereign masters, Bentham believed that not only is humanity under these twin masters, but that every human should prefer pleasure to pain. Bentham gives no reason for this preference. He argues that it is fundamental and needs no evidence. However, he does explain that pleasure and pain are not just physical sensations; they are also the psychological state that comes from feeling pain or pleasure. It might be argued that some people prefer pain, whether physical or psychological. The answer to this is that such people do not see pain as pain but rather as pleasure. Thus a hermit might suffer hardship by living in a cave all his life, but he regards suffering as a stepping-

stone to the pleasure of a heavenly reward. For the recluse, the physical pain is psychological pleasure. Bentham calls this the principle of ascetics, which he rejected. He believed that thereligious person deludes himself by suffering in the hope of an uncertain destiny. The Christian God is not a benevolent deity who maximizes human happiness. Christians say that God is all-good and all-loving, Bentham argues, yet they live in constant fear of the Last Judgement and eternal damnation. Bentham follows-up his view that human beings are under the mastery of pain and pleasure by arguing that what is good for the individual, is right for human society and for all sentient creatures. Three points should be noted: 1. The principle of utility has a universal application. Actions should therefore be calculated on the basis of what is good for the world and not what maximizes the happiness of a particular locality or class. 2. Every human being counts and all are equal. This is an egalitarian message. 3. Sentient animals are equally under the same law of pain and pleasure and have to be taken into account when actions to maximize pleasure are examined. Utilitarian theory was not enough for Bentham. He believed that theories are worthless unless they have practical application. This was one of the many reasons why he had earlier rejected the views of Immanuel Kant. It was also the main reason for his rejection of what he termed the principle of sympathy. A person who is sympathetic towards, for example, the plight of the homeless is not a good person since sympathy will not provide homes for these people. Being moral is not being sympathetic. Morality demands the maximization of good by action to get the homeless off the streets, which will be beneficial to the whole community. Benthams application of his moral theory led to the construction of a method. All actions are to be calculated in terms of the maximization of happiness and the minimization of pain. This method is known as the hedonic calculus or felicific calculus. Bentham states that there are seven basic tests for calculating whether an action will maximize pleasure and minimize pain. They are PRICED F: 1. Purity of the sensation, meaning that it is not followed by sensations of pain. 2. Remoteness or nearness of the sensation. 3. Intensity of the sensation. 4. Certainty of the sensation. 5. Extent of the sensation, meaning the number of people affected. 6. Duration of the sensation. 7. Fecundity of the sensation, meaning the chance it will produce other pleasurableexperiences. Bentham uses the word sensation instead of experience or action. He means by this that pain and pleasure are products of the senses: sight, hearing, feeling, taste and smell. It is for each person to sit down and calculate whether a particular action will maximize pleasure, not only for the individual involved but also for society. Thus the hedonic calculus is the litmus test for all practical decisions. Benthams ideas are not without their problems: 1. He views all pleasures as being of equal value. It follows that the happiness of a person clubbing on a Thursday night is the same as that of a carer doing unpaid social work for the elderly. Bentham maintains that both get pleasure from what they do. They are either happy or they are not. Their activities either give pleasure or not. For him it is impossible to speak of higher or lower pleasures.

2. Bentham rejects the idea of human rights or, as they were called in his day, natural rights. He describes human rights as nonsense upon stilts. Rights lead to conflict and not harmony. It would be wrong to allow the rights of an individual or group to frustrate actions that might lead to the general happiness of society. This famous quote is an attack on Benthams simple hedonism but it is also an assault on all those who look to lower pleasures as the source of happiness. These fools, as Mill sees it, are in all classes of society, from the rich banker interested only in making money to the impoverished poor, who spend life creating ever-larger families. All are fools because they live in a world in which there is the absence of high feelings the absence of interest. These though are the minority of the human race. Mills positive view of human nature creates a problem. How is it possible for human being to be determined teleologically and yet, at the same time, utterly to be free to choose higher or lower order pleasures? Mills understanding of human psychology points towards determinism, based on the pursuit of happiness, which contrasts with his views on individual freedom and autonomy. His solution to this problem isa form of weak determinism, which conflicts with the natural determinism of the followers of Bentham. Human beings are determined by the desire for happiness but they are free to choose their individual path or to reject it. A few will not. Most will prefer a life of real happiness while a few will not. Life is an experiment. Each human being should be free to take part in that experiment. Mill spent much of his adult life freeing himself from the straitjacket, as he saw it, of Benthams ideas. Mills utilitarianism is individualistic. It contains human right sand it is based on principles rather than on the hedonic calculus. However, Mills utilitarianism has been criticized on a number of levels. The main criticisms are: 1. Mills psychological approach is a product of nineteenth -century attitudes about human nature, which are discredited today. Mill has a very optimistic view of human nature and believes in individual autonomy. These views are in marked contrast to the biological determinism of human behaviour among contemporary psychologists. Richard Dawkins is one critic of Mills limited determinism. 2. Mill is guilty of the naturalistic fallacy. 3. Mills higher and lower order pleasures are meaningless terms. People either get pleasure from something or they do not. 4. The idea that higher order pleasures lead to human progress, the teleology of happiness, is weak. Progress can be made as much by lower order pleasures as by higher order pleasures. 5. There is an arrogance in Mills ideas of higher and lower order pleasures that suggests that, while Mill believes in liberty, he believes that freedom is best served by following his ideas. His comments that lower order pleasures are worthy of swine points to intellectual arrogance. 6. Mill rejects the simplicity of Benthams ethical theory but then produces a view of utilitarianism that is too complex. Many consider that Mill is a rule utilitarian but thisis only partially true. There are always exceptions to any rule. Mill cites the Golden Rule of Christian thought (Do to others, what you would have them to do to you) asa rule, but there are exceptions. Mill rejects, for example, the right of a person to self harm or to harm another consenting adult. A human being cannot become a slave to another person even if that person wishes to do so. Liberty is a right but only up to a point. There are always exceptions. 7. The complexity of Mills utilitarianism means that the morality or otherwise of various issues cannot be easily or quickly resolved. Mill regards this as releasing human beings from the simplicity of the hedonic calculus. Critics argue that it prevents people from judging the merits of particular projects or structures, which demand rapid

solutions. The simplicity of Benthams calculus is replaced by, what Mill calls, the plurality of causes and the intermingling of effects. The original purpose of utilitarianism, namely, to answer questions about what is good and right in a particular situation, is no longer possible. The litmus tests of the hedonic calculus are replaced by muddy water. 5.1.2 The Political and Legal Philosophy 1. Benthams definition of a law a. Expression of Sovereign's Will Of Laws in General begins with this definition: A law may be defined as an assemblage of signs declarative of a volition conceived or adopted by the sovereign in a state, concerning the conduct to be observed in a certain case by a certain person or class of persons, who in the case in question are or are supposed to be subject to his power: such volition trusting for its accomplishment to the expectation of certain events which it is intended such declaration should upon occasion be a means of bringing to pass, and the prospect of which it is intended should act as a motive upon whose conduct is in question. Let us quickly analyze the different parts of this definition. The first one claims a law is the expression of sovereign's will in a state. The person or class of persons possessing in fact power is the sovereign. This power emanates from the peoples disposition or habit of obeying; it is Bentham's replacement for the foundation of sovereign's power in classical theory like social contract or natural law theory. In Bentham's mind, even if he does not really defines it, will means one of the three mental human faculties, so an expression of will is considered as a declaration of what a legislator wishes. But, in his logical writings, the will is also considered as an active faculty opposed to the understanding, a passive faculty. Finally, the sovereign can conceive or adopt such a will. In both cases, he is the only source of a law. b. Directive Part: Law and Logic. The second part of this definition is the directive part of a law. The declaration of the sovereign's will concerns the conduct of his subjects. The stake is the effect a law must have on his subjects, in other words, by a law, the sovereign expresses a wish concerning the conduct he wants his subjects to observe under certain circumstances. This expression of will can have four aspects and studying their logical relations is the basis of a new logic, breaking off with Aristotle's logic, the logic of the will or imperative logic, a genuine premise for a contemporary deontic logic. c. Sanctionary Part: Punishment and Prediction. The third and last part expresses the possibility to rely on different means in order to secure the expression of the sovereign's will. We may call this part the sanctional part. The expression of the sovereign's will concerning a class of acts can only become a law if sanction supports it even if it is not explicitly mentioned. Bentham defines three types of sanction: political, moral and religious. The sovereign is mainly concerned by the first but he may take the others into account. We can also note that if Bentham considers punishment as an essential part of a law No such thing as law without punishment he also considers that rewards could be a source of motivation. Indeed,

this third part of the definition is strongly linked to Benthams theory of motivation finding its foundation in the principle of utility as assuming the subjection of human beings to pleasures and pains. This encompassing definition of the word law is the foundation of Benthams theory of law and leads to the creation of a new logic: the logic of the will or logic of imperation. 2. Theoretical Field of the Logic of the Will. In this part, It will expose the basic principles established by the logic of the will, and try to understand their stakes. a. Conditions of Possibility. According to Bentham, There are two things essential to every law: an act of some sort or other, being the object of a wish or volition on the part of the legislator; and a wish or volition of which such act is the object. Concerning an act, the aspect is either decided or directive; either neutral or undecided. If it is decided, this is a command or a prohibition which expresses the wish of the legislator to see people to whom the legal norm is addressed perform or refrain to perform a specific act. If it is neutral, it is a non-command or a non-prohibition, which is the equivalent of permission, the legislator does not command anything to his subjects concerning a specific conduct to adopt. These different aspects of the will act like a deontic operator in contemporary logic and this is exactly what Bentham has in mind. Bentham thinks legal science needs a particular logic, different from an Aristotelian logic of the understanding which he calls the logic of imperation or logic of the will. I chapter ten of Of Laws in General Bentham anticipated these aspects, more than one hundred fifty years before the developments made by Von Wright in his article Deontic Logic. As for von Wright, symbols following a deontic operator denote for Bentham properties forclass of acts like stealing, killing, smoking etc. Bentham, in a pedagogical way, gives a concrete example: the act is carry arms, the different aspects can qualify this act so it can be obligatory (O), forbidden (F), non-obligatory ( O) or permitted (P). No O is equipollent to permission to refrain. According to Bentham, O and P are affirmative and F and O, negative. In the same manner, acts can be positive and noted p or negative and noted p. Therefore we can formalize Bentham's example like this: Every householder shall carry arms: Op. No householder shall carry arms: Fp. Any householder may forbear to carry arms: Op. Any householder may carry arms: Pp. b. Relations with Traditional Logic. Bentham suggests a parallelism between relations that can be established between these statements and the relations of conversion existing between classical logical statements as they appear in a logical square. Traditional logic distinguishes A statements (affirmative universals) like all Parisians are French, E statements (negative statements) like no Parisian is French, I statements (affirmative particulars) like some Parisians are French and O statements (negative particulars) like some Parisians are not French. Various relations between these statements can be represented in an opposition square. If we consider we can substitute Op to A, Fp to E, Pp to I and Op to O then we can draw another similar square. So we can apply traditional logical relations to Bentham's logic of the will as follows: A, O and E, I are contradictory. Two contradictory statements cannot be simultaneously true and false. If a statement is true, the contradictory is false and vice-versa. We can here notice that Bentham does not say that directive statements can be true or false, they can be opposite or concomitant so I will speak of them as

valid or invalid, and to speak honestly the question of a correlate between truth of affirmative directive statements is a greater issue for this presentation. So for the sake of commodity, let us speak of valid and invalid statements. Therefore, Op and Op can't be valid simultaneously but one of them must be valid. That is: [1] (Op & Op) & (Op v Op) Similarly concerning Fp and Pp [2] (Fp & Fp) & (Fp v Fp) So much for logical formulas. We can apply the same reasoning to the other relations and obtain at the end the formalization of six deontic statements. The possibility of a deontic calculus now appears a little clearer through this formalization. c. A Minimal System of Deontic Logic. If we consider that Bentham's proposal is a system of axiomatic calculus of deontic logic, we should obtain it through two definitions, one axiom and rules of propositional calculus. They all constitutes its basis. We can find the two definitions in this sentence written by Bentham:a negative aspects towards a positive act is equipollent to an affirmative aspect towards the correspondent negative acts.4 Then we obtain these two definitions: DFI: Fp if and only if O P DFII: Op if and only if P P The sole axiom is the following: AX: Op implies PpIf we add to this basis the following passage of Of Laws, which can also be formalized to obtain other theorems that can be demonstrated, we foresee the possibility of formalization offered by Bentham:

First, it may be commanded: it is then left unprohibited: and it is not prohibited nor left uncommanded. 2. It may be prohibited: it is then left uncommanded: and it is not commanded nor permitted (that is leftunprohibited). 8. It may be left uncommanded: it is then not commanded: but it may be either prohibited or permitted: yet so as that if it be in the one case it is not in the other. 4. It may be permitted: it is then not prohibited: but it may be either commanded or left uncommanded: yet so as that if it be in the one case, it is not in the other, as before. For example: it may be commanded: it is then left unprohibited can be formalized as the following theorem: Op Fp. All theorems suggested by Bentham are deductible if we use the relations present in the square of traditional logic applied to deontic statements. Then we'll have a true minimal system of deontic logic. We can now clearly claim that Bentham's logic of the will is adeontic logic, and that, when formalized, it leads to a deontic calculus. It is a logic of affirmative statements concerning prescriptive statements. Legal validity means belonging to the field of law. One should understand that Bentham's interest goes beyond an attempt of formalization, even in common language and even it creates a great theoretical field. The logic of the will finds a place in a broader project of reforming English law, at the level of his vocabulary and his grammar. The logic of the will lies within the scope of Benthamian jurisprudence. 3. Returning to Practical Field.

a. The Force of a Law. The concept of the force of a law gives its complete meaning to Bentham's theory and makes logical and theoretical formalization become a practical field. Through the return to political field Bentham's logic of the will find its complete meaning. As we saw, there are four aspectsto the sovereign's will; two are restrictive or coercive (command and prohibition), the two others (permission and non-command) being non-coercive or permissive. This distinction fits with the separation between restrictive and permissive laws. The main aim of a law is to be a clear and precise guide for action. It indicates what is obligatory, forbidden or permitted. But we cannot reduce Bentham's aim to the statement of what is legal and illegal, because a mere statement does not lead to agency. Laws are not the simple expression of the sovereign's preferences concerning the conduct of his subjects: they are the sign of his positive intention to influence their conduct. Bentham writes about the force of a law which deals with the motives it relies upon for enabling it to produce the effects it aims at. So there is an essential part of a law, namely: motivation. Bentham conceives a law as a system of social control. The entire system works as if law generally was a system of coercive laws, even if this is not actually the case. Indeed, there is no independent place for non-obligatory laws within a system of individual laws. This is not a consequence of his definition of a law, but of the manner in which Bentham makes the individuation of laws and how they interact in thecontext of his jurisprudence. When identifying logical possible relations between different aspects of a will, the new logic of Bentham gives to the legislator a tremendous tool to construct a complete system of laws. b. Benthams Pannomion All this fits perfectly with the general purpose of his Pannomion: it gives the logical structure to laws and to the law. Bentham's system needs to be adequate and functional, it needs laws that are efficient and to be efficient, they must secure the performance they express to realize an act or not through sanctions. This new logic also enables the legislator to achieve a coherent and complete system of laws and through the force of a law, secure agency following his wishes expressed by law. We can foresee here the transition from ought to be to ought to do when speaking of people's agency. In other words, here lies the question of practical reasoning on the side of the governed. 4. Logic, Ethics and Practical Reasoning: the Stakes of Benthams Logic of the Will. a. The Utility of Deontic Logic We just saw the possible link in Bentham's thought between a theoretical area, deontic logicas legislator's tool, in charge of categorize the realm in order to establish a complete code of laws and a practical one, which concerns agency of governed, agency secured by use of sanctions, through the idea of force of a law. But what about our initial question: that of the relationship between ethical and logical issues, i.e., the understanding of whether to conform to what the logical prescriptions allow is all that Paper is needed to act ethically and vice versa if to act ethically is to answer the logical prescriptions that can be formed by laws. We could consider that Benthams analysis is an attempt to produce a completely neutral, descriptive, account of legal obligation, devoid of any normative elements. It is expository rather than censorial jurisprudence, treating of the law as it is, not of the law as it ought to be. In this treatment law is not only demythologized but also demoralized. This produces some strange consequences. It results, for example, in treating every law as if it were the command of a disjunction: either do this, or else take the consequences. The obligation implied by punishment in the political case is just as amoral for Bentham as is the obligation he says is imposed by a purely physical sanction, such as the pain that would result from the removal of a tooth. In one case the relation of painful consequences to possible actions is artificially

produced, in the other case it is natural, but in both cases it provides reasons for action. The pain specified by the legislator is a reason for not doing some actions, just as the pain of a tooth coming out is a reason for keeping out of the way of someone swinging a heavy weight round his head. In both cases, however, someone can reasonably choose on occasion to undergo the pain, which is when he thinks that the pain is outweighed by the advantages. He can choose the present pain of the removal of the tooth in order to prevent future toothache, and he can choose to undergo the specified punishment rather than undertake the commanded action. In this point of view, the question does not make much sense. Law is amoral and separated from moral. We can even go further: there is no room for the question. But it forgets the case of non-obligatory laws and its correspondent deontic operator. It just forgets the problem of choice and of practical reasoning which has its achievement in the performance or non-performance of an action and in its prescription. The fact that some people are in a state of subjection to the laws or in other words are under the empire of the law does not mean that they do not have any choice. Even if this choice should lead to evil and painful consequences. The room for choice in a normative and imperative theory such as Benthams allows the possibility to think resistance to the law. And we must recall that of one of the first arguments used by Bentham to support the principle of utility in his Fragment of government is precisely that the principle of utility is the only criterion to judge if you should obey the law or not. It is the only way to justify resistance. So, the question here is whether the principle of utility, which is also an ethical one, is the only principle at work in Benthams philosophy to justify the choice made by individuals to follow the rules. In other words, could utility be the only way to think practical reasoning in Benthams philosophy, and more particularly in Benthams legal theory? b. The Possibility of a Logical Practical Reasoning It would like to suggest another way round this problem. Actually, when speaking of law and morals within Bentham's thought, we can consider either that they are totally independent so that there exists no link between them, or we can connect them together, particularly through this question: is there a moral duty to obey the law? It is an interesting and difficult issue but it does not concern us in this paper. It would like, in the light of deontic logic, reformulate our initial question: does deontic logic allow the elaboration of practical reasoning? Let me go further: does the logic of the will as a deontic logic constitute a logic of practical reasoning? It thinks this is the great challenge Bentham throws to us through his logic; he invites us to think about the condition of possibility of logic of practical reasoning. But to do this, we have to reverse the initial point of view which consists of considering the logic of the will from the point of view of the legislator: we have to consider reciprocally that it is a tool for use on the part of the governed. Some difficulties appear: it would imply that Benthams deontic logic establishes a difference between ought to be statements elaborated by the legislator and ought to do statements which are the results of a logical calculus from the governed we already see that such a calculus is possible. In other words, we would have to demonstrate the logic of the will results in prescriptive statements leading to action. As we saw, the concept of the force of a law has a fundamental significance since it allows thinking the applicability of the logic of the will but it does not imply an intrinsic prescriptive value of statements provided by it. More fundamentally, we would have to prove that deontic logic is part of the practical reasoning. Let us remind that at the very beginning, the logic of the will deals with logical relations between laws and then, establishes standards for valid reasoning. In the end, we would have to prove the possibility of a logic of practical reasoning. A large stumbling block stands in the way of any agreement on the logic of practical reasoning. Aristotle supposed that the conclusion of a piece of practical reason is an action; most theorists today think that practical reasoning ends in a decision or intention to act in a certain way, or an order or entreaty that another person act in a certain way. But whether practical reasoning leads to actions or to prescriptions, it does not seem on any account to lead to statements having a value of truth. Since only statements having truth-value can serve as conclusions of valid inferences, it follows that there can be no valid practical inferences, nor can there be a logic of practical reasoning.

The difficulty is not trivial. First, suppose that Aristotle was right in thinking the conclusion of a piece of practical reasoning to be an action. Since an action is not a statement, the conclusion of practical inference reasoning is prescriptive statement. To make a statement ofone's reasoning is prescriptive statement. To make a statement of one's decision or intention is not, or at least need not be, to report on a previous mental act; rather, to make the statement is, at least sometimes, to decide or to intend. Hence, whether we adopt Aristotle's account of practical reasoning or modern alternatives, it seems that the conclusions of practical reasoning are neither true nor false. Therefore, practical reasoning cannot be valid or invalid. The rules of deductive logic enable us to determine which arguments are valid and which are not. Without the concept of deductive validity, the notion of logical rules is empty at best. Furthermore, a valid deductive argument is, by definition, one in which, if the premises are true, the conclusion must be true. An invalid deductive argument is one in which the truth of the premises does not guarantee the truth of the conclusion. Valid arguments are then truth preserving; invalid arguments need not be so. But if the conclusion of a piece of practical reasoning is neither true nor false, then no truth present in the premises is preserved in the conclusion. Therefore, practical reasoning cannot be valid, and the notion of rules of practical reasoning is empty. We cannot hope to develop a logic of practical reasoning so long as practical reasoning ends only in actions, intentions, decisions, orders, or entreaties. However, deontic statements provide a way in which practical reasoning can be both valid and prescriptive. If the conclusion of a piece of practical reasoning is a prescription, one can formulate that prescription as a deontic statement. I can cast my decisions or intentions in the form of first-person deontic statements: I ought to help that old lady. Similarly, I can castmy orders or entreaties in the form of second- or third-person deontic statements: You andhe really ought to help that old lady . The prescriptive conclusions of practical reasoningtherefore seem to be equivalent to deontic statements. But deontic statements have truth value: either it is true or it is false that I ought to help that old lady. Hence, arguments whose conclusions are deontic statements can be truth preserving. Therefore, practical arguments, atleast those which issue in deontic statements or their equivalents, can be valid. Thanks todeontic statements, there is indeed logic of practical reasoning: deontic logic. In Bentham'swords, it implies that prescriptive ought to be statements of the legislator become prescriptive to do of the governed, it implies a change of grammatical structure. For example, Every householder shall carry arms must become I ought to carry arms. c. Meta-practical Reasoning One may in the end wonder: why all this complications? The governed just use the calculus of utility. What happened to it? Let me just say a couple of words about it. On the one hand, on his general account, Bentham must think that reasons for following the command rather than taking the punishment involve extra-legal, moral or social considerations; as far as expository jurisprudence is concerned the law must be analyzed by him as a completely amoral choice of conforming to the command or taking the punishment. So it is possible that the calculus of utility is not the only way one can choose to conform to law. On the other hand, deontic reasoning, that is, often helps us reach practical decisions, even though the actions decided upon are not considered absolutely obligatory. But in such cases, deontic reasoning is usually far from sufficient to determine action. Other factors, including the utilitarian reasoning, enter into the determination of action. If there is a sort of meta reasoning to determine which sort of factor should win out in a given case, there seems n reason to suppose that the meta-reasoning in question should be only deontic or utilitarian. For example, I have made a promise, but keeping the promise would cause me a hardship than breaking the promise would avoid. Deontic reasoning leads me to the conclusion that I shouldkeep the promise; utilitarian reasoning leads me to the conclusion that I should break thepromise. In trying to decide the reasonable course of action, I

will doubtless consider suchfactors as the amount of overall harm done by keeping my promise and the amount of overallgood done by breaking my promise: if it costs little to keep my promise, I will have noqualms about doing so. But weighing overall good and harm is part of utilitarian reasoning,not a matter for deontic logic. The metareasoning by which I chose between applying deonticreasoning and applying utilitarian reasoning was therefore not, or at least not exclusively,deontic. 0000000000 So the meta-reasoning could involve both deontic and utility calculus. The governed mustconsider both the validity of deontic statements and the consequences of his possible action.The calculus of utility should not be the sole criterion of choice within Bentham's generallegal theory. It concluded that at the end of this presentation, it think that on the one hand, Bentham's logic of the will is adeontic logic and in this sense is new and different from Aristotelian logic. On the other hand,more significantly, is the point that Bentham invites us to elaborate the conditions ofpossibility of a logic of practical reasoning through a meta-reasoning including both deonticand utilitarian calculus. This is the great challenge set by Bentham. This is still a leading issueof contemporary debates in deontic logic.It also leads us to reconsider completely the status of the principle of utility within Benthamsphilosophy. Private ethics as defined by Bentham is not only founded on the principle ofutility: it is composed of a meta-practical reasoning involving utilitarian and deontic calculus.Then, Bentham, if one follows my interpretation, allows us to think a private ethics within the public sphere not only based on and ethical principle.

5.1.3ThePanopticon Jeremy Bentham is one of the foremost characters in the reform of corrections and rehabilitation of prisoners. He designed the famous panopticon style prison consisting of several cell blocks interconnected by a main administrative block. His design never really caught on in Europe, several prototype prisons were built, but only in America were any panopticon like prisons built. He was an advocate for prisoners rights, their education and health. Bentham defined the term utilitarianism meaning that everything should try to get the greatest happiness of the greatest number. He brought about change in British law trying to make them more humane, and compassionate. His views, though compassionate, often dealt with criminals as children or inferior in someways, to be thought of as unsound of mind and unable to control themselves. Through critical analysis of the penal code of his time, Bentham brought about change in how criminals were to be dealt with. His views, though slanted, did bring about positive change allowing more humane treatment of criminals and the beginning of rehabilitation practices. He invented a new type of centrally controlled prison and tried, as usual, to overcontrol a situation. The name of the movement arose from Bentham's test question, What is the use of it? Bentham, educated as a lawyer and responsible for profound reform of English19th-century criminal law, judicial organization, and the parliamentary electorate, described utility as pleasure, which he claimed is the ultimate goal of the action of any individual or group. In fact, he argued that even when someone claimed there was a different reason for acting, then that other reason is pursued on the grounds of the pleasure or utility it produces. In his An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation (1789) Bentham states that we are subject to two sovereigns, pain and pleasure. Our actions are focused on bringing us either more pleasure or less pain. The other side of the utility coin is the impact on the group--the pleasure brought to the group as a consequence of the act, whatever it was. So the movement itself can be described by a defense of the greatest happiness of the greatest number. Laws, then, were to be constructed to balance between individual liberty and group impact.

Bentham wrote the first known argument for homosexual law reform in England. Even though he thought the act was disgusting, he advocated the decriminalization of sodomy, which in his day was punished by hanging. His philosophy was that actions between consenting adults that brought no harm to the larger social group were not crimes. The published manuscript of Offenses Against One's Self (1785) is available online. In America, Bentham is apparently most famous for his design of the Panopticon,a prison constructed so that the inmates could be under visual surveillance at all times. Perhaps it is because of his work on this subject that several web page designers have thought the display of his mummified remains were an appropriate subject on the Internet. One artist claims that the video camera shots of this display is a realization of the principles behind the panopticon itself. What exactly is a Panopticon, anyway. Panopticon The means by which the abstract space of the machine and the social space of the garden might be reconciled represents a unifying theme of utopian spatial organization. English utilitarian philosopher Jeremy Bentham struggled for decades to promote his vision of how this reconciliation might be accomplished through the construction of his architectural and social experiment, the panopticon (all-seeing place). Bentham introduced this concept in 1791 as a progressive and humane penitentiary.In a series of letters, Bentham proposed that the building would be circular with cells lining the perimeter. Each cell would be separated by walls on either side, so that the prisoners are secluded from all communication with each other. A window on the wall facing the building's exterior and an iron grating facing the building's interior would allow light to pass through the cell. This light would ensure constant surveillance over the activities of each individual by an inspector who was located in a tower at the center of the panopticon. This surveillance was unidirectional, however. Bentham proposed that a set of blinders covering the windows in the inspector's tower would prevent prisoners from watching their captors. The isolation of individuals that resulted from this architectural design ensured physical security and promoted moral reform. After all, as Bentham noted, overpowering the guard requires an [sic] union of hands, and a concert among minds. But what union, or what concert, can there be among persons, no one of whom will have set eyes on any other from the first moment of his entrance? . From this modern form of imprisonment, individuals would have no recourse but to consider ways to improve their lot in life. Modern Direct Supervision Facility Further, the ability to view large numbers of inmates in a single glance reduced the number of observers necessary to maintain control and allowed public inspection of the panopticon's operations. This emphasis emerged from Bentham's philosophy of utilitarianism, which seeks the greatest good for the greatest number of people. In the Panopticon, few would be subject to the risks and unpleasantness of the inspection role, while many would benefit from the concept's enlightened means of management. Through public inspection, citizens would be free to discover for themselves the security for all bought by the tyranny over a few. The most important benefit of Bentham's design was that his panopticon concept could be integrated into many social functions, including hospitals, schools, and military barracks. In his text Discipline and Punish, Michel Foucault (1979) extends Bentham's concept further to serve as a metaphor for the modernist disciplinary society. In this state, control need not be secured by physical dominance over the body -- it is maintained though a process of isolation. The organization of our private spaces, essential mechanisms to maintaining the power relation, are like so many cages, so many small theaters, in which each actor is alone, perfectly individualized and constantly visible. Like the prisoner in the panoptiscopic penitentiary, the citizen is seen, but he does not see; he is the object of information, never a subject in communication. Here, it must be emphasized that gaze is merely the means by which the end, individualization, is accomplished. Focus on the architectural construction, which served to illuminate individuals by a flood of light through the windows which lined the cells, is important. But that focus alone, deprives the panopticon of its utility as a metaphor for the utopian vision be held by Bentham and shared by others. Indeed, while Hayden rejects the

rigid, geometrical organization of progressive structures such as Bentham's panopticon as beig designed for imaginary space, not for the life space of communities she obscures the larger point: regardless of their means, utopian architecture and its dystopian counterpart, suburbia, represent the dehumanizing resolution of the dialectical tension between emancipatory community and dehumanizing isolationism. Here, utopian architecture is defined as the organization of space to perfect individuals and their relationships while dystopian architecture represents the ironic result: the process of organization dehumanizes those it is designed to help. As Hungarian dissident satirist Mikls Haraszti -- a surviver of the twentieth century implications of this phenomenon -- might suggest, understanding of this phenomenon should not focus on the structure of architecture, but on the space between the lines. 5.2J.S.Mill 5.2.1 EqualRightsforWomen After publishing On Liberty in 1859, Mill turned to political reform. He advocated expanding the right to vote to all adults, including women. He devised, however, a controversial voting system, which gave more voting power to those with an education (rather than owners of property). Mill supported government subsidies to parents who could not afford schooling for their children. But he opposed a public school system because he believed it would enforce social conformity. An opponent of slavery (which Britain had abolished in 1833), Mill supported the North during the American Civil War. He wrote that if the South won this would be a victory of the powers of evil, which would give courage to the enemies of progress. In 1865, Mill won a Liberal Party seat in Parliament. He ran on the condition that he would only vote his conscience, even if this went against the wishes of the voters he represented. Mill saw his seat in Parliament as a platform to voice his views on political and social reforms, especially the right of women to vote. In 1867, he helped organize Britains first womens suffrage (right to vote) society. His speeches and votes in Parliament were often far ahead of his time. Consequently, he was defeated for re-election in 1868 after serving only one term. The year after he left Parliament, Mill published The Subjection of Women. This pamphlet summarized his longstanding arguments for the equality of women in Britains male -dominated society. He stressed that women should have the same rights as men to develop their individuality. This included the right to own property, earn a college education, choose any occupation, and participate fully in politics. Mill disagreed sharply with his father on womens su ffrage. James Mill always held that a husband represented his wife when he voted, so she had no reason to exercise this right. John, however, argued that a wifes interests were often different from those of her husband, and thus she should have an equal r ight to vote for them. Despite Mills efforts, British women did not secure even a limited right to vote until 1918, long after he died. 5.2.2IndividualLiberty The subject of this Essay is not the so-called Liberty of the Will, so unfortunately opposed to the misnamed doctrine of Philosophical Necessity; but Civil, or Social Liberty: the nature and limits of the power which can be legitimately exercised by society over the individual. A question seldom stated, and hardly ever discussed, in general terms, but which profoundly influences the practical controversies of the age by its latent presence, and is likely soon to make itself recognized as the vital question of the future. It is so far from being new, that, in a certain sense, it has divided mankind, almost from the remotest ages, but in the stage of progress into which the more civilized portions of the species have now entered, it presents itself under new conditions, and requires a different and more fundamental treatment. The struggle between Liberty and Authority is the most conspicuous feature in

the portions of history with which we are earliest familiar, particularly in that of Greece, Rome, and England. But in old times this contest was between subjects, or some classes of subjects, and the government. By liberty, was meant protection against the tyranny of the political rulers. The rulers were conceived (except in some of the popular governments of Greece) as in a necessarily antagonistic position to the people whom they ruled. They consisted of a governing One, or a governing tribe or caste, who derived their authority from inheritance or conquest; who, at all events, did not hold it at the pleasure of the governed, and whose supremacy men did not venture, perhaps did not desire, to contest, whatever precautions might be taken against its oppressive exercise. Their power was regarded as necessary, but also as highly dangerous; as a weapon which they would attempt to use against their subjects, no less than against external enemies. To prevent the weaker members of the community from being preyed upon by innumerable vultures, it was needful that there should be an animal of prey stronger than the rest, commissioned to keep them down. But as the king of the vultures would be no less bent upon preying upon the flock than any of the minor harpies, it was indispensable to be in a perpetual attitude of defence against his beak and claws. The aim, therefore, of patriots, was to set limits to the power which the ruler should be suffered to exercise over the community; and this limitation was what they meant by liberty. It was attempted in two ways. First, by obtaining a recognition of certain immunities, called political liberties or rights, which it was to be regarded as a breach of duty in the ruler to infringe, and which, if he did infringe, specific resistance, or general rebellion, was held to be justifiable. A second, and generally a later expedient, was the establishment of constitutional checks; by which the consent of the community, or of a body of some sort supposed to represent its interests, was made a necessary condition to some of the more important acts of the governing power. To the first of these modes of limitation, the ruling power, in most European countries, was compelled, more or less, to submit. It was not so with the second; and to attain this, or when already in some degree possessed, to attain it more completely, became everywhere the principal object of the lovers of liberty. And so long as mankind were content to combat one enemy by another, and to be ruled by a master, on condition of being guaranteed more or less efficaciously against his tyranny, they did not carry their aspirations beyond this point. A time, however, came in the progress of human affairs, when men ceased to think it a necessity of nature that their governors should be an independent power, opposed in interest to themselves. It appeared to them much better that the various magistrates of the State should be their tenants or delegates, revocable at their pleasure. In that way alone, it seemed, could they have complete security that the powers of government would never be abused to their disadvantage. By degrees, this new demand for elective and temporary rulers became the prominent object of the exertions of the popular party, wherever any such party existed; and superseded, to a considerable extent, the previous efforts to limit the power of rulers. As the struggle proceeded for making the ruling power emanate from the periodical choice of the ruled, some persons began to think that too much importance had been attached to the limitation of the power itself. That (it might seem) was a resource against rulers whose interests were habitually opposed to those of the people. What was now wanted was, that the rulers should be identified with the people; that their interest and will should be the interest and will of the nation. The nation did not need to be protected against its own will. There was no fear of its tyrannizing over itself. Let the rulers be effectually responsible to it, promptly removable by it, and it could afford to trust them with power of which it could itself dictate the use to be made. Their power was but the nation's own power, concentrated, and in a form convenient for exercise. This mode of thought, or rather perhaps of feeling, was common among the last generation of European liberalism, in the Continental section of which, it still apparently predominates. Those who admit any limit to what a government may do, except in the case of such governments as they think ought not to exist, stand out as brilliant exceptions among the political thinkers of the Continent. A similar tone of sentiment might by this time have been prevalent in our own country, if the circumstances which for a time encouraged it had continued unaltered.

But, in political and philosophical theories, as well as in persons, success discloses faults and infirmities which failure might have concealed from observation. The notion, that the people have no need to limit their power over themselves, might seem axiomatic, when popular government was a thing only dreamed about, or read of as having existed at some distant period of the past. Neither was that notion necessarily disturbed by such temporary aberrations as those of the French Revolution, the worst of which were the work of an usurping few, and which, in any case, belonged, not to the permanent working of popular institutions, but to a sudden and convulsive outbreak against monarchical and aristocratic despotism. In time, however, a democratic republic came to occupy a large portion of the earth's surface, and made itself felt as one of the most powerful members of the community of nations; and elective and responsible government became subject to the observations and criticisms which wait upon a great existing fact. It was now perceived that such phrases as self-government, and the power of the people over themselves, do not express the true state of the case. The people who exercise the power, are not always the same people with those over whom it is exercised, and the self-government spoken of, is not the government of each by himself, but of each by all the rest. The will of the people, moreover, practically means, the will of the most numerous or the most active part of the people; the majority, or those who succeed in making themselves accepted as the majority; the people, consequently, may desire to oppress a part of their number; and precautions are as much needed against this, as against any other abuse of power. The limitation, therefore, of the power of government over individuals, loses none of its importance when the holders of power are regularly accountable to the community, that is, to the strongest party therein. This view of things, recommending itself equally to the intelligence of thinkers and to the inclination of those important classes in European society to whose real or supposed interests democracy is adverse, has had no difficulty in establishing itself; and in political speculations the tyranny of the majority is now generally included among the evils against which society requires to be on its guard. Like other tyrannies, the tyranny of the majority was at first, and is still vulgarly, held in dread, chiefly as operating through the acts of the public authorities. But reflecting persons perceived that when society is itself the tyran--society collectively, over the separate individuals who compose it--its means of tyrannizing are not restricted to the acts which it may do by the hands of its political functionaries. Society can and does execute its own mandates: and if it issues wrong mandates instead of right, or any mandates at all in things with which it ought not to meddle, it practises a social tyranny more formidable than many kinds of political oppression, since, though not usually upheld by such extreme penalties, it leaves fewer means of escape, penetrating much more deeply into the details of life, and enslaving the soul itself. Protection, therefore, against the tyranny of the magistrate is not enough; there needs protection also against the tyranny of the prevailing opinion and feeling; against the tendency of society to impose, by other means than civil penalties, its own ideas and practices as rules of conduct on those who dissent from them; to fetter the development, and, if possible, prevent the formation, of any individuality not in harmony with its ways, and compel all characters to fashion themselves upon the model of its own. There is a limit to the legitimate interference of collective opinion with individual independence; and to find that limit, and maintain it against encroachment, is as indispensable to a good condition of human affairs, as protection against political despotism. But though this proposition is not likely to be contested in general terms, the practical question, where to place the limit--how to make the fitting adjustment between individual independence and social control--is a subject on which nearly everything remains to be done. All that makes existence valuable to any one, depends on the enforcement of restraints upon the actions of other people. Some rules of conduct, therefore, must be imposed, by law in the first place, and by opinion on many things which are not fit subjects for the operation of law. What these rules should be, is the principal question in human affairs; but if we except a few of the most obvious cases, it is one of those which least progress has been made in resolving. No two ages, and scarcely any two countries, have decided it alike; and the decision of one age or country is a wonder to another. Yet the people of any given age and country no more suspect any difficulty in it, than if it were a subject on which mankind had

always been agreed. The rules which obtain among themselves appear to them self-evident and self-justifying. This all but universal illusion is one of the examples of the magical influence of custom, which is not only, as the proverb says a second nature, but is continually mistaken for the first. The effect of custom, in preventing any misgiving respecting the rules of conduct which mankind impose on one another, is all the more complete because the subject is one on which it is not generally considered necessary that reasons should be given, either by one person to others, or by each to himself. People are accustomed to believe and have been encouraged in the belief by some who aspire to the character of philosophers, that their feelings, on subjects of this nature, are better than reasons, and render reasons unnecessary. The practical principle which guides them to their opinions on the regulation of human conduct, is the feeling in each person's mind that everybody should be required to act as he, and those with whom he sympathizes, would like them to act. No one, indeed, acknowledges to himself that his standard of judgment is his own liking; but an opinion on a point of conduct, not supported by reasons, can only count as one person's preference; and if the reasons, when given, are a mere appeal to a similar preference felt by other people, it is still only many people's liking instead of one. To an ordinary man, however, his own preference, thus supported, is not only a perfectly satisfactory reason, but the only one he generally has for any of his notions of morality, taste, or propriety, which are not expressly written in his religious creed; and his chief guide in the interpretation even of that. Men's opinions, accordingly, on what is laudable or blamable, are affected by all the multifarious causes which influence their wishes in regard to the conduct of others, and which are as numerous as those which determine their wishes on any other subject. Sometimes their reason--at other times their prejudices or superstitions: often their social affections, not seldom their anti-social ones, their envy or jealousy, their arrogance or contemptuousness: but most commonly, their desires or fears for themselves--their legitimate or illegitimate self-interest. Wherever there is an ascendant class, a large portion of the morality of the country emanates from its class interests, and its feelings of class superiority. The morality between Spartans and Helots, between planters and negroes, between princes and subjects, between nobles and roturiers, between men and women, has been for the most part the creation of these class interests and feelings: and the sentiments thus generated, react in turn upon the moral feelings of the members of the ascendant class, in their relations among themselves. Where, on the other hand, a class, formerly ascendant, has lost its ascendency, or where its ascendency is unpopular, the prevailing moral sentiments frequently bear the impress of an impatient dislike of superiority. Another grand determining principle of the rules of conduct, both in act and forbearance which have been enforced by law or opinion, has been the servility of mankind towards the supposed preferences or aversions of their temporal masters, or of their gods. This servility though essentially selfish, is not hypocrisy; it gives rise to perfectly genuine sentiments of abhorrence; it made men burn magicians and heretics. Among so many baser influences, the general and obvious interests of society have of course had a share, and a large one, in the direction of the moral sentiments: less, however, as a matter of reason, and on their own account, than as a consequence of the sympathies and antipathies which grew out of them: and sympathies and antipathies which had little or nothing to do with the interests of society, have made themselves felt in the establishment of moralities with quite as great force. The likings and dislikings of society, or of some powerful portion of it, are thus the main thing which has practically determined the rules laid down for general observance, under the penalties of law or opinion. And in general, those who have been in advance of society in thought and feeling have left this condition of things unassailed in principle, however they may have come into conflict with it in some of its details. They have occupied themselves rather in inquiring what things society ought to like or dislike, than in questioning whether its likings or dislikings should be a law to individuals. They preferred endeavouring to alter the feelings of mankind on the particular points on which they were themselves heretical, rather than make common cause in defence of freedom, with heretics generally. The only case in which the higher ground has been taken on principle and maintained with consistency, by any but an individual here and there, is that of religious belief: a case instructive in many ways, and not least so as forming a most striking instance of the fallibility of what is called the moral sense:

for the odium theologicum, in a sincere bigot, is one of the most unequivocal cases of moral feeling. Those who first broke the yoke of what called itself the Universal Church, were in general as little willing to permit difference of religious opinion as that church itself. But when the heat of the conflict was over, without giving a complete victory to any party, and each church or sect was reduced to limit its hopes to retaining possession of the ground it already occupied; minorities, seeing that they had no chance of becoming majorities, were under the necessity of pleading to those whom they could not convert, for permission to differ. It is accordingly on this battle-field, almost solely, that the rights of the individual against society have been asserted on broad grounds of principle, and the claim of society to exercise authority over dissentients openly controverted. The great writers to whom the world owes what religious liberty it possesses, have mostly asserted freedom of conscience as an indefeasible right, and denied absolutely that a human being is accountable to others for his religious belief. Yet so natural to mankind is intolerance in whatever they really care about, that religious freedom has hardly anywhere been practically realized, except where religious indifference, which dislikes to have its peace disturbed by theological quarrels, has added its weight to the scale. In the minds of almost all religious persons, even in the most tolerant countries, the duty of toleration is admitted with tacit reserves. One person will bear with dissent in matters of church government, but not of dogma; another can tolerate everybody, short of a Papist or an Unitarian; another, every one who believes in revealed religion; a few extend their charity a little further, but stop at the belief in a God and in a future state. Wherever the sentiment of the majority is still genuine and intense, it is found to have abated little of its claim to be obeyed. In England, from the peculiar circumstances of our political history, though the yoke of opinion is perhaps heavier, that of law is lighter, than in most other countries of Europe; and there is considerable jealousy of direct interference, by the legislative or the executive power with private conduct; not so much from any just regard for the independence of the individual, as from the still subsisting habit of looking on the government as representing an opposite interest to the public. The majority have not yet learnt to feel the power of the government their power, or its opinions their opinions. When they do so, individual liberty will probably be as much exposed to invasion from the government, as it already is from public opinion. But, as yet, there is a considerable amount of feeling ready to be called forth against any attempt of the law to control individuals in things in which they have not hitherto been accustomed to be controlled by it; and this with very little discrimination as to whether the matter is, or is not, within the legitimate sphere of legal control; insomuch that the feeling, highly salutary on the whole, is perhaps quite as often misplaced as well grounded in the particular instances of its application. There is, in fact, no recognized principle by which the propriety or impropriety of government interference is customarily tested. People decide according to their personal preferences. Some, whenever they see any good to be done, or evil to be remedied, would willingly instigate the government to undertake the business; while others prefer to bear almost any amount of social evil, rather than add one to the departments of human interests amenable to governmental control. And men range themselves on one or the other side in any particular case, according to this general direction of their sentiments; or according to the degree of interest which they feel in the particular thing which it is proposed that the government should do; or according to the belief they entertain that the government would, or would not, do it in the manner they prefer; but very rarely on account of any opinion to which they consistently adhere, as to what things are fit to be done by a government. And it seems to me that, in consequence of this absence of rule or principle, one side is at present as often wrong as the other; the interference of government is, with about equal frequency, improperly invoked and improperly condemned. The object of this Essay is to assert one very simple principle, as entitled to govern absolutely the dealings of society with the individual in the way of compulsion and control, whether the means used be physical force in the form of legal penalties, or the moral coercion of public opinion. That principle is, that the sole end for which mankind are warranted, individually or collectively in interfering with the liberty of action of any of their number, is self-protection. That the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others. His own good, either physical or moral, is not a sufficient

warrant. He cannot rightfully be compelled to do or forbear because it will be better for him to do so, because it will make him happier, because, in the opinions of others, to do so would be wise, or even right. These are good reasons for remonstrating with him, or reasoning with him, or persuading him, or entreating him, but not for compelling him, or visiting him with any evil, in case he do otherwise. To justify that, the conduct from which it is desired to deter him must be calculated to produce evil to some one else. The only part of the conduct of any one, for which he is amenable to society, is that which concerns others. In the part which merely concerns himself, his independence is, of right, absolute. Over himself, over his own body and mind, the individual is sovereign. It is, perhaps, hardly necessary to say that this doctrine is meant to apply only to human beings in the maturity of their faculties. We are not speaking of children, or of young persons below the age which the law may fix as that of manhood or womanhood. Those who are still in a state to require being taken care of by others, must be protected against their own actions as well as against external injury. For the same reason, we may leave out of consideration those backward states of society in which the race itself may be considered as in its nonage. The early difficulties in the way of spontaneous progress are so great, that there is seldom any choice of means for overcoming them; and a ruler full of the spirit of improvement is warranted in the use of any expedients that will attain an end, perhaps otherwise unattainable. Despotism is a legitimate mode of government in dealing with barbarians, provided the end be their improvement, and the means justified by actually effecting that end. Liberty, as a principle, has no application to any state of things anterior to the time when mankind have become capable of being improved by free and equal discussion. Until then, there is nothing for them but implicit obedience to an Akbar or a Charlemagne, if they are so fortunate as to find one. But as soon as mankind have attained the capacity of being guided to their own improvement by conviction or persuasion (a period long since reached in all nations with whom we need here concern ourselves), compulsion, either in the direct form or in that of pains and penalties for non-compliance, is no longer admissible as a means to their own good, and justifiable only for the security of others. It is proper to state that I forego any advantage which could be derived to my argument from the idea of abstract right as a thing independent of utility. I regard utility as the ultimate appeal on all ethical questions; but it must be utility in the largest sense, grounded on the permanent interests of man as a progressive being. Those interests, I contend, authorize the subjection of individual spontaneity to external control, only in respect to those actions of each, which concern the interest of other people. If any one does an act hurtful to others, there is a prima facie case for punishing him, by law, or, where legal penalties are not safely applicable, by general disapprobation. There are also many positive acts for the benefit of others, which he may rightfully be compelled to perform; such as, to give evidence in a court of justice; to bear his fair share in the common defence, or in any other joint work necessary to the interest of the society of which he enjoys the protection; and to perform certain acts of individual beneficence, such as saving a fellow-creature's life, or interposing to protect the defenceless against ill-usage, things which whenever it is obviously a man's duty to do, he may rightfully be made responsible to society for not doing. A person may cause evil to others not only by his actions but by his inaction, and in either case he is justly accountable to them for the injury. The latter case, it is true, requires a much more cautious exercise of compulsion than the former. To make any one answerable for doing evil to others, is the rule; to make him answerable for not preventing evil, is, comparatively speaking, the exception. Yet there are many cases clear enough and grave enough to justify that exception. In all things which regard the external relations of the individual, he is de jure amenable to those whose interests are concerned, and if need be, to society as their protector. There are often good reasons for not holding him to the responsibility; but these reasons must arise from the special expediencies of the case: either because it is a kind of case in which he is on the whole likely to act better, when left to his own discretion, than when controlled in any way in which society have it in their power to control him; or because the attempt to exercise control would produce other evils, greater than those which it would prevent. When such reasons as these preclude the enforcement of responsibility, the conscience of the agent himself should step into the vacant judgment-seat, and protect those interests of others which have no

external protection; judging himself all the more rigidly, because the case does not admit of his being made accountable to the judgment of his fellow-creatures. But there is a sphere of action in which society, as distinguished from the individual, has, if any, only an indirect interest; comprehending all that portion of a person's life and conduct which affects only himself, or, if it also affects others, only with their free, voluntary, and undeceived consent and participation. When I say only himself, I mean directly, and in the first instance: for whatever affects himself, may affect others through himself; and the objection which may be grounded on this contingency, will receive consideration in the sequel. This, then, is the appropriate region of human liberty. It comprises, first, the inward domain of consciousness; demanding liberty of conscience, in the most comprehensive sense; liberty of thought and feeling; absolute freedom of opinion and sentiment on all subjects, practical or speculative, scientific, moral, or theological. The liberty of expressing and publishing opinions may seem to fall under a different principle, since it belongs to that part of the conduct of an individual which concerns other people; but, being almost of as much importance as the liberty of thought itself, and resting in great part on the same reasons, is practically inseparable from it. Secondly, the principle requires liberty of tastes and pursuits; of framing the plan of our life to suit our own character; of doing as we like, subject to such consequences as may follow; without impediment from our fellow-creatures, so long as what we do does not harm them even though they should think our conduct foolish, perverse, or wrong. Thirdly, from this liberty of each individual, follows the liberty, within the same limits, of combination among individuals; freedom to unite, for any purpose not involving harm to others: the persons combining being supposed to be of full age, and not forced or deceived. No society in which these liberties are not, on the whole, respected, is free, whatever may be its form of government; and none is completely free in which they do not exist absolute and unqualified. The only freedom which deserves the name, is that of pursuing our own good in our own way, so long as we do not attempt to deprive others of theirs, or impede their efforts to obtain it. Each is the proper guardian of his own health, whether bodily, or mental or spiritual. Mankind are greater gainers by suffering each other to live as seems good to themselves, than by compelling each to live as seems good to the rest. Though this doctrine is anything but new, and, to some persons, may have the air of a truism, there is no doctrine which stands more directly opposed to the general tendency of existing opinion and practice. Society has expended fully as much effort in the attempt (according to its lights) to compel people to conform to its notions of personal, as of social excellence. The ancient commonwealths thought themselves entitled to practise, and the ancient philosophers countenanced, the regulation of every part of private conduct by public authority, on the ground that the State had a deep interest in the whole bodily and mental discipline of every one of its citizens, a mode of thinking which may have been admissible in small republics surrounded by powerful enemies, in constant peril of being subverted by foreign attack or internal commotion, and to which even a short interval of relaxed energy and self-command might so easily be fatal, that they could not afford to wait for the salutary permanent effects of freedom. In the modern world, the greater size of political communities, and above all, the separation between the spiritual and temporal authority (which placed the direction of men's consciences in other hands than those which controlled their worldly affairs), prevented so great an interference by law in the details of private life; but the engines of moral repression have been wielded more strenuously against divergence from the reigning opinion in self-regarding, than even in social matters; religion, the most powerful of the elements which have entered into the formation of moral feeling, having almost always been governed either by the ambition of a hierarchy, seeking control over every department of human conduct, or by the spirit of Puritanism. And some of those modern reformers who have placed themselves in strongest opposition to the religions of the past, have been nowhere behind either churches or sects in their assertion of the right of spiritual domination: M. Compte, in particular, whose social system, as unfolded in his Trait de Politique Positive, aims at establishing (though by moral more than by legal appliances) a despotism of society over the individual, surpassing anything contemplated in the political ideal of the most rigid disciplinarian among the ancient philosophers.

Apart from the peculiar tenets of individual thinkers, there is also in the world at large an increasing inclination to stretch unduly the powers of society over the individual, both by the force of opinion and even by that of legislation: and as the tendency of all the changes taking place in the world is to strengthen society, and diminish the power of the individual, this encroachment is not one of the evils which tend spontaneously to disappear, but, on the contrary, to grow more and more formidable. The disposition of mankind, whether as rulers or as fellow-citizens, to impose their own opinions and inclinations as a rule of conduct on others, is so energetically supported by some of the best and by some of the worst feelings incident to human nature, that it is hardly ever kept under restraint by anything but want of power; and as the power is not declining, but growing, unless a strong barrier of moral conviction can be raised against the mischief, we must expect, in the present circumstances of the world, to see it increase. It will be convenient for the argument, if, instead of at once entering upon the general thesis, we confine ourselves in the first instance to a single branch of it, on which the principle here stated is, if not fully, yet to a certain point, recognized by the current opinions. This one branch is the Liberty of Thought: from which it is impossible to separate the cognate liberty of speaking and of writing. Although these liberties, to some considerable amount, form part of the political morality of all countries which profess religious toleration and free institutions, the grounds, both philosophical and practical, on which they rest, are perhaps not so familiar to the general mind, nor so thoroughly appreciated by many even of the leaders of opinion, as might have been expected. Those grounds, when rightly understood, are of much wider application than to only one division of the subject, and a thorough consideration of this part of the question will be found the best introduction to the remainder. 5.2.3RepresentativeGovernment The Considerations on Representative Government was John Stuart Mill's most ambitious political treatise. It is without doubt the fullest statement we have of his mature political thought. Representative Government was one of Mill's later works. It was written years after both A System of Logic (1843) and Principles of Political Economy (1848) -- the writings which made Mill a prominent figure in British intellectual life -- had become standard works in the library of every well-read gentleman. Several years after his retirement from service with the East India Company and the death of his wife -- two major events in Mill's life, both occurring in 1858 -- and several years before his election as a member of the House of Commons for Westminster, Mill wrote his treatise. He composed it for the most part in 1860. This was a year of great controversy in England, generally over political principles and their philosophical foundations, and specifically over parliamentary reform. In America, where democratic principles had been carried to the most advanced point in political experience, the bitter conflict between the States was ready to break out in violent war. In England, where Liberal principles had been vested with the sanctity of law, the dominance of the middle class was in jeopardy. Spokesmen for the new industrial working class, which was rapidly increasing in importance in British life, were demanding a share of political privilege and were getting a hearing from the Tory Democrat, Benjamin Disraeli. The movement into which John Mill had been born -- Utilitarianism -- was, after a short history of glorious accomplishment, disintegrating into squabbling sects. New movements, stimulated by a congenial Darwinian climate, were just getting under way. During this year of intellectual ferment and social change -- and political crisis -- John Stuart Mill, son of a radical reformer but himself a reformed radical, summed up his thoughts about politics in his major treatise. In Representative Government we find no really new ideas. This Mill himself concedes in his preface. Mill's friend and first biographer, Alexander Bain, states that even Mill's earliest political essays pointed in the direction of Representative Government. This statement perhaps says too much. However, the main themes developed in Representative Government were initially advanced in works written years before. In his review of Tocqueville's two volume Democracy in America (1835, 1840), MiIl set the pattern of his argument, against majority rule. In a pamphlet published in 1859, Thoughts on Parliamentary Reform, he stated his distinctive views about minority

representation, plural voting, and the secret ballot. Neither the principle of representation nor Mill's use of it in his theory was novel. The concept of representation which Mill elaborated in Representative Government bears a close family resemblance to the doctrine his father advanced in the famous Essay on Government (1820). That essay, the finest statement we have of Benthamite political teachings, was (by John Stuart's own testimony) regarded by the Philosophical Radicals as a masterpiece of political wisdom. For the most part, then, Representative Government is a systematic summation of political views already expressed by Mill in one way or another. This summation takes the form of an extended discussion, divided into eighteen chapters, of a series of cognate political questions. Mill ostensibly discusses these questions in relation to representative government. Mill's Representative Government has value today as a political treatise even though parts of it are definitely dated.Many questions which in Mills time were highly controversial no longer agitate British opinion; in the course of almost a century of political change they have, for practical purposes, been satisfactorily settled. But in setting forth his views about those questions, Mill elucidated his distinctive political theory. Mill's beliefs were popular with an impressive body of Victorian opinion. They still find some adherents today. First let us sketch the main line of argument Mill advances in his treatise, and then proceed to examine the major articles in John Stuart Mill's political creed. II Mill begins his treatise by considering a question suggested by Benthamite teachings: Are forms of government invented by men to suit their desires, or are they products of historical experience? Bentham held that men can deliberately design and adopt political institutions as they choose. Mill concedes that in this view there is some truth, but also, he says, there is some truth in the opposite view. He takes a middle position -political institutions are the work of men, but they must be adjusted to the capacities of the people who live under them. For a set of institutions to function properly, a people must be ready, willing, and able to work them. Though political institutions reflect the more fundamental conditions in a society, such as property and intelligence, they also reflect moral influence -- the condition of opinion and will -- at work in that society. So, Mill concludes, the form of government is a matter of rational choice, though choices must be made within very definite limits. Hence the question of the best form of government, both ideally and relative to a particular people, is a worthwhile one to consider. Mill next turns to the question of the proper criterion for choosing political institutions. What form of government best promotes the interests of a society? To answer this question it is first necessary, says Mill, to determine the proper end of government, since government is merely a means. To say that order or progresses are the objects of government is no help. The preservation of what exists is an indispensable condition of government but not the sole object. Moreover, the same human qualities -- industry, integrity, justice, and prudence -- contribute to the improvement as well as to the preservation of society; and the qualities which contribute to progress -- mental activity, enterprise, courage, and inventiveness -- are likewise required for order. Similarly with political institutions and policies, such as the police and taxation. However, though progress is not a requisite for order, order is a requisite for progress. Since order is a means, it follows that there is a sense in which conduciveness to Progress . . . includes the whole excellence of a government. But, Mill claims, another criterion is needed. It is as important to good government that a society not_deteriorate as that it improve. So Mill poses the question: What are the causes and conditions of good government? The qualities of the citizens, he answers, the virtue and intelligence of the governed, is one element of good government. Hence a pertinent question to answer about political institutions is: To what extent do they foster the moral and intellectual qualities of the governed, individually and collectively? Another important element of good government is the quality of the machinery itself. To what extent do the political institutions utilize the moral and intellectual worth in the community? Mill thus concludes that the two proper criteria for

evaluating forms of government are (1) the improvement of the character of the governed, and (2) the utilization of the community's virtue and talent. Under any form of government, Mill claims, it is possible to utilize virtue and talent. But not so with the improvement of the governed. It is true that good government is relative; political institutions must be adapted to a society's stage of culture. For example, despotic rule might be best for a primitive tribe. At the same time, however, government is a principal means for cultural advancement. Hence the best form of government is always that which tends to advance a people to a higher level of social development. It follows that, to assure good government, political institutions must change as a people's culture advances. After these preliminaries, Mill proceeds to consider the ideal form of government and the conditions necessary for its existence. Despotic rule, he says, may be a model of efficiency, and it may be temporarily necessary. But as a permanent arrangement despotism is unacceptable. Its main defect is the failure to exercise and improve the moral and intellectual faculties of the governed. The greatest benefits to a people are provided by a form of government where sovereignty is located in the entire community and every citizen performs a public function. This conclusion rests on two principles: first that a person's interests are secure to the extent that he can actively promote them, and second, that the general interest of a community is best promoted by the maximum activity of individual members. The truth of the first principle is obvious. In regard to the second, active characters are intrinsically better than passive characters, since active characters are required for the cultivation of the three varieties of mental excellence -- intellectual, practical, and moral. Passive characters are encouraged by government by one or a few, while government by the many encourages active characters. Thus popular government is superior to despotic rule in both advancing the welfare of a community and improving the characters of its citizens. Because of these advantages, popular participation in government should be as great as a community's stage of cultural development allows. The ultimate aim would be participation by all in the sovereign power. But as a practical matter, self-government is an impossible goal. Hence the ideally best form is representative government. What are the social conditions necessary for representative government? Representative government cannot permanently exist unless the three afore-mentioned conditions -- that the people are ready, willing, and able to participate in public affairs -- are fulfilled. At the earliest stage of a community's development, when the people have yet to learn the first lesson of civilization -- obedience -- royal rule is most suitable. Other shortcomings in a people can disqualify them for representative government, though rule by one or a few might not be any improvement over popular rule. In some cases, where the people lack capacity and a really superior class exists, some form of aristocratic rule may be the best possible. The critical test of a people's fitness for popular rule is the relative strength of two conflicting desires which varies among different peoples -- the desire to exercise power over others, and the desire not to have power exercised over them. Person in whom the second desire is predominant is fit for representative government. After considering the best form of government and the conditions necessary for its existence, Mill turns to questions about the functioning of representative government. Representative government, he says, is where the whole people exercise the sovereign power through their elected deputies. What are the proper functions of a representative assembly? It is important to distinguish, says Mill, between actually performing the business of government and controlling the performance. A representative assembly should do only that which it can best perform and control the rest. An assembly can deliberate better than an individual, but it cannot act nearly as well Hence a representative assembly should not try to administer governmental affairs directly. Administration is a hjghly skilled business which depends on special information and rules of conduct. A representative assembly is not fit even to determine the special qualifications of administrators. What it can do is to select the ministers by passmg on nominees (as m the British cabinet system). Further, a representative assembly is not competent to enact laws. Legislation, too, is a work of skilled labor and special study and experience which calls for professional talent. The representative assembly should determine who should draft the laws. The technical job of drafting

legislation would be best done, Mill contends, by a nonpolitiral legislative commission composed of experts. The representative assembly should merely pass on the proposals submitted, by approving, rejecting, or referring them back to the commission. In general, then, the proper function of a representative assembly is to watch and control the conduct of governmental affairs entrusted to a specially trained and experienced Few. Another sort of function a representative assembly can perform is to serve as an arena of public opinion where conflicting views can be expressed and explored in public debate. What are the infirmities and dangers to which representative government is liable? In any form of government, the defects may be negative or positive. A negative defect is insufficient power in the offices of government to do the job of governing. In a representative system, the danger is that the power to govern will not be properly concentrated because of legislative interference in the work of administration. Another negative defect is insufficient exercise of the citizens' capabilities; this results when public functions are not widely enough diffused among the people. Of the positive defects, one is the low level of competence in the controlling body; representative government is specially liable to this defect. Bureaucratic rule, though it fails to exercise the citizens' capabilities, tends to be efficient because technical skill and ability are utilized. The opposite is true with representative government; there the tendency is toward inefficiency because the need for professional talent is not fully appreciated. The danger is that the citizens and their representatives attempt more than they are competent to do. Another positive defect is the tendency of special interests to influence the representative assembly at the expense of the general interest. In a monarchy or an aristocracy, a common weakness is the continuing conflict between the interests of the rulers and those of the community. The same weakness exists in popular government, where the tendency is for the special interest of a numerical majority to displace the interest of all. The result is class legislation. We must recognize that in practice rulers often neglect their real interest in the pursuit of their apparent interest. It is true that persons differ in character, but power encourages everyone to prefer his selfish and immediate interest to his indirect and remote interest. Since governments must be made for men as they are or can soon become, how can this evil tendency be prevented in a representative government? The two great sets of interests in modern society are those of capital and labor. These two classes should be equally balanced in the government so neither can dominate the other. Since a minority of each class tends to pursue the general interest, the aim should be to balance the conflicting interests in such a way that each part of one class is dependent on a part of the other class to obtain a majority. Mill next considers the question of how the dangers inherent in representative government -- incompetence and class legislation -- can be minimized without impairing the benefits of popular government. The government of all by a majority, exclusively represented, is, says Mill, a false idea of democracy. False democracy is actually a government of privilege, for minorities are in effect disfranchised. A majority should be able to outvote a minority in a representative assembly, but minorities should have their representatives too. In a true democracy minorities would be adequately represented in the assembly. Hence the true idea of democracy is a government of all by all, equally represented. The best way to assure adequate representation of minorities is the scheme proposed by Thomas Hare for parliamentary elections. By Hare's plan for proportional representation: 1. all representatives would be elected ''al large in one national constituency; 2. to be elected, a candidatate must secure the number of votes equal to the quotient of the number of voters divided by the number of seats in the assembly; 3. voters could list several candidates on their ballots in order of preference; 4. any candidate who received the necessary quota of first-choice votes would immediately be elected; 5. alternate choices would then be counted until the prescribed number of representatives was elected. This scheme, Mill claims, has some real advantages. Minorities could elect representatives in proportion to their voting strength; virtually every elector would be represented in the assembly. The elected representatives would possess the highest possible qualifications -- they would be a true elite. Why? The natural tendency in popular government, Mill argues, is toward collective mediocrity, a tendency encouraged by extending the

franchise. Hare's plan offers an effective antidote to this tendency. Minorities would of course vote for exceptionally able candidates; thus the majority would have to run candidates of similar caliber in order to win votes. Also opposition by an instructed minority -- which after all is the best check on a majority in a representative assembly -- would be guaranteed. While Hare's plan has these advantages, Mill says, there is no valid argument against adopting it. America already suffers from collective despotism, but England still can, through Hare's plan, avoid such a fate. The main arguments offered against the plan are that it would permit sects and cliques to obtain undue power, and that it would be abused to augment the influence of parties. Actually, by Hare's plan, party influences would be curbed and minorities would simply obtain the representation they deserve. The real obstacle to adoption is a mistaken notion about the plan's complexity. That it is not in practice so complex could be shown by giving it a fair trial. Mill then considers whether the franchise should be restricted. The real issue in representative government, says Mill, is how to prevent the abuse of power by a numerical majority. Restricting the suffrage is not a satisfactory solution to this problem. Moreover, a restricted franchise does some harm. Voting has educational value for the citizen. Also, a person who is denied the vote is apt to become malcontent. To deny a person the vote unless the purpose is to prevent an evil is unjust. Though the franchise should be extended as much as possible, certain qualifications for voting are imperative. A voter should be able to read, write, and calculate, and should be a payer of direct taxes. A person who is on parish relief, hence financially dependent on the community, should be disqualified from voting. But even when only really qualified persons have the vote, Mill says, the danger of ignorant, class legislation remains. The solution to this problem is to give persons whose opinions are entitled to greater weight two or more votes -- plural voting. Though everyone should have a voice, it should not be an equal voice. Political equality as practiced in America is a false creed, detrimental to moral and intellectual excellence since those who have strength can rely on will rather than reason. Voting should be weighted in favor of knowledge and intelligence. The basis for weighting should be, not property, but mental superiority. How can such superiority be ascertained, as a practical matter? Occupation is an adequate test; for example, a banker is likely to be more intelligent than a shopkeeper, an employer more intelligent than an employee. Educational attainment is another test. Plural voting should be limited only so that no single class would be able to outvote the rest of the community. Mill adds that sex should not be a disqualification for voting. Mill next discusses the merits of direct and indirect elections. Indirect elections, where voters choose electors who in turn select the representatives, have been advocated as a means to curb the popular influence. This view is plausible, but the practice lessens the benefits of popular government since public spirit and political intelligence are thereby cultivated less than with direct election. Indirect election may also, as in the case of the American presidency, encourage partisanship. The best form of election in America is the system of indirect election of United States senators. But this system requires a federal constitution with the electors (state legislators) performing other public functions as well. The conclusion: the advantages of indirect election can actually be obtained by direct election, and indirect election has certain disadvantages. So although indirect election might have a temporary use, it is undesirable as a permanent arrangement. Should voting be in public, or by secret ballot? The secret ballot, Mill says, is undesirable; it encourages the pursuit of selfish interests. The vote is a public trust, and the voter's duty is to give his best opinion of the public good. This duty should be performed in the public eye and subject to criticism, because a person's need to justify his act conduces to more responsible conduct. The claim that public voting allows the voter to be subjected to sinister influences is unfounded. The secret ballot is no longer necessary; the power of the few over the many is so declining in western Europe that there is now no need to fear class dictation. At the same time, persons who may not be fit to be electors (such as members of the working class) may still be fit to exert influence on electors; this they can do best if_voting is public.

Mill then turns to some related issues of parliamentary reform. He argues that campaign expenditures of candidates should be strictly limited so voters are not influenced by extraneous considerations in casting their ballots. Also, that members of Parliament should not be paid because a salaried post would attract self-seeking, vulgar persons and demagogues; a qualified person without independent income should be subsidized by the subscription of his affluent constituents. How long should the term of a representative be? It should not be so long that he forgets his reponsibility to the public good, or so short that he is unable to pursue a course of action. Depending on whether the prevailing tendency is toward aristocratic or democratic domination, the term should be from three to five years. But even the seven-year term, though rather long, is not so long as to warrant much effort to reduce it. In regard to the question of whether representatives should be eligible for re-election, Mill contends that there are no advantages in banning re-election and some serious disadvantages. Should a representative be bound by instructions from his constituents? No. A representative should be responsible to the voters, but he is naturally wiser than they. Superior minds, which conclude differently from ordinary minds, should not be restrained by pledges sought by ordinary minds. The voters should respect differences from their opinions and should judge their representative's ability by such signs as proven public service, leadership, and experience. With untried men whose characters are as yet unknown, it is necessary to rely on the judgments of those who know them best. Generally, then, a representative should not make pledges to his constituents; he should insist on following his better judgment of the public good. It is even more important in a false democracy than in a true democracy that a representative be a free agent. The institution of the second chamber as a means of curbing the popular influence is, says Mill, of secondary importance. If there are two chambers, they can be similar or dissimilar in composition. If the upper chamber is similar to the popular house, no special advantage is achieved. And with two houses there is always the disadvantage of inconvenient delay in the proceedings. In a representative government a second chamber would be useful only if it tended to oppose the class interests of the majority. The strongest argument in favor of a second chamber is that, generally, when power is diffused despotism is discouraged and compromise is encouraged; this of course is desirable. If the second chamber is intended to restrain the popular house, it must be composed differently. But its effectiveness would depend on its public support; the House of Lords restrains the Commons only to the extent that British society is aristocratic in character. It is true that in every well-ordered polity there should be a center of resistance to the predominant power -- in a representative government, to the democratic assembly. But the best way to curb the popular influence is to diffuse power, not between two chambers, but within the democratic assembly itself through proportional representation and plural voting. The finest example of a second chamber is the Roman Senate, which was composed of elder statesmen of proven merit and virtue. In England, the best form of second chamber would be an assembly of life peers selected on the basis of merit from among the most distinguished figures in British public life. Next Mill turns to the question of the executive in a representative government. As a general rule, says Mill, the authority and responsibility to act should not be divided; instead, they should be concentrated and clearly fixed in one individual. Plural bodies are not suited for administrative work, though an administrator should use a council of competent professionals as advisors. No executive official should be elected by the people or their representatives. Administering government business is skilled employment for which special qualifications are required. Executive officials should be appointed by their administrative superiors, who should also have the power to remove them. The chief executive should be selected by the legislature. Popular election of the chief executive means that eminent men will not be selected and that the chief executive must cater to the public for approval. The principle of dissolution of the House of Commons is sound because it forestalls a serious deadlock between the executive and the legislature. The judiciary above all must be completely free, from popular influence. The people are not competent to assess judicial qualifications; voters are partial, while impartiality is the essential quality of justice. The jury is one of the very few cases, however, where it is better for the people to act

directly rather than through their representatives; it is almost the only case in which the errors that a person exercising authority may commit can be better borne than the consequences of making him responsible for them. Of course professional civil servants should be completely divorced from politics. Appointments should be made on a merit basis, by competitive examinations. Such recruitment has an added advantage of exerting a salutary influence on the educational system. Promotion generally should depend on seniority, but in special circumstances on record of performance. Mill moves next to some questions of local government. Central governments, he says, try to do too much; local representative bodies should handle strictly local affairs. Moreover, the educational value of participation in local government for the citizens is so great that local authority should be as extensive as possible. How should local representative bodies be composed? Generally on the same principles as for the national legislature, except that in local affairs property should be allowed a larger voice. Every municipality should have one central council. Most difficulties in local government result from the poor caliber of the persons who participate; one council would attract into public service the highest quality of mind available in the community. The same principles apply to the administration of local governmental affairs as to the national. Should a local government have full authority to perform its functions or should its activities be supervised by central authorities? Local officials are inferior in ability to national officials, and local opinion, both public and press, is likewise inferior. On the other hand, interest in a community and the opportunity to observe the conduct of public business is greater in a locality. Knowledge is centralized, though power is localized. Generally, the central authority should restrict its function to that of instructing in principles, which should then be applied by the local officials. However, the central authority should interfere in local affairs if a majority attempts to oppress a minority. Then Mill considers the relation between nationality and representative government. Nationality, he says, exists when a people share common sympathies not shared with other people. Nationality is based more on common experiences than on a common race, language, or religion. As a general principle, the boundaries of a government should coincide with those of nationality, though geography sometimes hinders the application of this principle. In a country of different nationalities, where antipathies are strong, joint resistance to government ineffective, and sympathy between the army and the public lacking, popular government is not possible. The mixing of nationalities in one country, where the inferior are improved by the influence of a superior nationality, is beneficial, though sometimes this intermingling is not practical. Mill next discusses the subject of federalism. In a country where national union is not possible, a federal system, wherein power is divided between a central and state governments, is sometimes desirable. For a stable federation, several conditions must be fulfilled. The population of the country must have mutual sympathies, the separate states must not be so strong that they can rely on their own strength in dealing with foreign countries, and the several states must be roughly equal -- no one or a few can be predominant within the federation. The two modes of federal government are (1) where the central government acts on the component states only, and (2) where it acts directly on the citizens. The second is the only satisfactory principle, since otherwise local majorities can with impunity act contrary to the central government. In a federal system a supreme court is the best means to determine questions of state-federal jurisdictions. A federation is beneficial to the extent that the practice of cooperation is extended. But if conditions permit, union is much more desirable than federation. In the final chapter Mill discusses the government of dependencies by a free state. Dependencies, he says, are of two types: one, where the peoples are backward and inferior; the other where they are equal in advancement to the governing state. With the second type of dependency, the only wise policy is that of selfdetermination within the empire. Imperial federation is not practical, since in an empire the requisite conditions for federation are lacking. Yet an empire has value in that international peace and co-operation are encouraged. With a backward people, the dependency is in a state of tutelage. What is the best mode of governing such peoples? The dangers are twofold: that the natives will be forced to conform to the customs and practices of the ruling state, and that the special interests of colonists from the mother country will be favored over the interests

of the native peoples. The general principle is that a free state should not directly rule backward peoples (like the East Indians); instead, it should provide able rulers through an intermediate governing body (like the East India Company). This intermediate body should have a vested interest in good government of the dependency, and as little interest as possible in poor government. Experience shows that by keeping the government of dependencies out of domestic politics and in the hands of professional, career administrators, the most effective rule of backward peoples is possible. The only colonial official who should be selected from outside the career service is a governor-general. Thus ends Mill's argument in Representative Government. III What exactly is John Stuart Mill trying to accomplish in this treatise? Aside from the final chapter appended to the rest of the work where he is obviously attempting to vindicate his former employer, the East India Company, Mill is occupied not so much with considerations on representative government as with criticisms of self-government. The theme he elaborates throughout his argument is that the common people are not competent to govern themselves; they should be ruled by a specially trained and experienced Few. Though he starts out by praising the virtues of popular government, he ends by repudiating the essential principles of democratic rule. In this treatise Mill is evidently trying to discredit democracy as a form of government. Why does Mill, in his principal treatise on politics, set this task for himself? When Mill was thirty years of age, he read the first volume of Alexis de Tocqueville's remarkable work, Democracy in America, and wrote a lengthy, laudatory review of it. Five years later, when the second volume was published, Mill wrote another review, again praising Tocqueville's book. In this review Mill termed Democracy in America the first philosophical book ever written on Democracy, as it manifests itself in modern society. This book, Mill concedes in his Autobiography, exerted a profound influence on his thinking about politics. By democracy Tocqueville, and Mill, meant self-government, direct participation by the governed in the exercise of governmental authority. Democratic rule depended on two principles widely accepted in America: that in exercising authority each member of a community should count for one and no more than one, and that the exercise of authority over a community should be determined by the vote of a majority. Such a mode of government, founded on these principles of political equality, and majority rule, was, Mill realized, a novel phenomenon in political experience. For many centuries a few had ruled the many; now in the American experiment the many were governing themselves, without benefit of an elite. Mill believed, as did Tocqueville, that as time passed the principles of democracy practiced in America would gain wider favor and more adherents in Europe. Democracy, for good or ill, was on the march. In fact, it was the agitation for democratic reforms in Britain which largely inspired Mill to write Representative Government. To his study of Democracy in America Mill attributed his growing reservations about the desirability of popular government. The book gave him, he said, a keener awareness of the dangers of democratic rule. Over the years, in company with Harriet Taylor, Mill's reservations continued to grow. It was Harriet's influence, Mill records, which first led him to doubt the desirability of pure democracy; Tocqueville's book merely confirmed their suspicions. By the time Mill began writing his major political treatise, he had abandoned the principles of democratic rule. What Tocqueville portrayed with accuracy as democracy in America, Mill feared and despised. Mill takes pains to define the form of popular rule practiced in this country as false democracy. In Representative Government as in his other writings Mill often points to American practice to illustrate a political principle to which he was opposed. It is true that Mill did accept, after a fashion and within limits, the principle of popular sovereignty -- that the authority binding on the members of a community should be located in the governed. Historical circumstances allowed him no feasible alternative. With the religious convictions of one born into the British Liberal tradition, he could not accept a doctrine of divine rights, either of one or a few, to rule. If authority has no supernatural origins, it must be located, naturally somehow, among men. For several centuries British

Liberals had contended that authority should be located in the governed. Mill concurred. But he refused to accept the democratic corollaries of popular sovereignty exemplified in American experience -- political equality and majority rule. In 1840 Mill wrote: Now, as ever, the great problem in government is to prevent the strongest from 7 becoming the only power. In 1860 this problem, as Mill posed it in his treatise, took this form: In view of the trend toward democracy, how can rule by the many be restrained so that rule by a qualified few can be preserved? The people are not competent to govern themselves, yet they insist on playing a role in government. This problem Mill was anxious to solve for his time so that what had happened in America would not be repeated in Britain. In his treatise he stresses the defects, infirmities, inadequacies, dangers of democratic rule revealed by the American experience. Representative Government is mainly an appeal to British Liberals to stand firm in opposing those democratic reforms which would allow the untutored masses to participate in exercising governmental authority. For this problem of how to stem the democratic tide, Mill proposes a solution which is ingenious, if not original, with him, and which has been a favorite scheme of elitist thinkers for generations. It is a rather intricate formula by which the people are supreme in theory but in practice are permitted to play no important role in exercising authority. The formula is evident in Mill's commendation of the theory of democracy. The virtue of popular government, he says, is its educational value; the moral and intellectual capacities of the governed are cultivated by participation in political affairs. But this is a backhanded denunciation of the practice of democracy. The education has value only because the people are not competent to exercise authority. Ruling is a skilled business for which ordinary people lack the requisite qualifications. The key to Mill's formula for elite rule is the principle of representation. The people should not rule directly; they should rule through their representatives. This principle is in Mill's theory an essential device for perpetuating elite rule. His formula includes in addition the following principles: 1. The vote should be restricted, by literacy and property qualifications, to the better sort of people. 2. The voters should be discouraged, by the casting of ballots in public, from voting in accord with their sinister interests and discreditable feelings. 3. The elections should be weighted, by the practice of plural voting, in favor of the prosperous and educated minority. 4. The only officials popularly elected should be the members of the representative assembly. 5. Elections should guarantee, through proportional representation, that minorities elect representatives of their choice. 6. The representatives should be chosen from among the wealthy who have independent incomes. 7. The representative should not be bound by any commitment to his constituents. 8. The assembly should be limited in its function to that of ratifying proposals determined by professional rulers. 9. The professional rulers should be selected on a merit basis, free from political influence. By this formula Mill would take the business of government out of politics. Plato's Republic, it has been said, is not a treatise on politics at all, but rather a scheme for a utopia wherein politics could not exist. The philosopher-kings would be responsible, in all their wisdom, only to themselves. In Representative Government Mill compromises his desires to admit the existence of politics. But then he systematically restricts popular participation in government to a point where ordinary minds have no chance to interfere with superior minds in the serious business of ruling. Mere politicians as well as ordinary citizens Mill denies any significant role in the governing process. The only role he allows any nonprofessional to play is in connection with deciding who should rule. Yet even here, Mill doubts the ability of ordinary voters to select representatives, and of ordinary representatives to select the professional rulers. Mill insists that exercising authority is a skilled function which only technically trained specialists are competent to perform. Popular participation, beneficial as it may be in

theory, is a luxury no well-ordered polity can afford in practice. Hence Mill's intricate formula for the ideally best form of representative government -- by which the function of ruling would be a monopoly of an elite of merit. IV Mill's attack on democratic rule and his defense of elite rule go hand in hand. The substance of his argument in Representative Government is that democracy may be desirable in theory but is impossible in practice and hence is not a suitable form of government. Rule by elite of merit is both possible and desirable. This thesis raises two fundamental political questions: Who should exercise authority? How should it be exercised? Mill's answer to the first question is that authority should be exercised by a mentally superior few; to the second, that authority should be exercised according to true principles. Mill's belief that his answers to these questions are correct was not at all tempered by modesty. He was less sure about how to persuade the multitude of unenlightened disbelievers that his were the really true answers. Most passages in Representative Government Mill devoted to this effort, diligently and doggedly offering argument after argument. Mill's contention that authority should in practice be exercised by an elite of merit appears to depend on a doctrine of cultural evolution according to which a people progresses from one stage of advancement to another. This doctrine supplies Mill with plausible grounds for denying the lower classes of his day any opportunity to participate meaningfully in political life. But by stressing the educational value of political participation, Mill certainly is saying that in theory popular rule is desirable, and he seems to be leaving the door open for the practice of democracy at some future date when society has progressed to a more advanced point in civilization. This doctrine of cultural revolution, however, is not what it appears to be. In a naturalistic theory like Mill's, such a doctrine serves the same function that the doctrine of immortality does in the theory of a standpat religionist. Paradise cannot be entered yet, but perhaps it can be later, provided supplicants obtain redemption from their sins. Because salvation is never a sure thing, the endless search for redemption is all-important in this life. But paradise is not for this dreary world we live in, and such a doctrine adds nothing significant to Mill's theory. Mill's actual case against democratic rule is quite differently founded. The governed would not rule themselves even in the ideally best form of representative government. Why? The answer turns on the second criterion of good government Mill stipulates. Certainly it is desirable that government cultivate the worth of the governed. But it is necessary that government call into the public service the finest virtue and talent available in the community. Otherwise the government would be inefficient. Relying on this criterion of efficiency, Mill develops his case against the practice of democracy. Mill predicates his political theory on some underlying beliefs about the nature of man and the world he lives in. Mill assumes that these beliefs provide firm theoretical grounds for his contention that a mentally superior few should exercise authority according to the true principles of politics. This assumption no doubt seemed more plausible to a nineteenth-century British rationalist like Mill than it does to a present-day thinker. Mill believed that men are naturally endowed with a capacity for reason. By using reason, they can obtain knowledge about the world. Men can do this by studying the lessons of experience. Thus rational men can perceive in experience the true principles of nature. But in order for men to obtain knowledge, their natural capacity for reason must be duly cultivated; the mental faculties must be trained and exercised to understand the principles of things. The capacity for reason is not cultivated to the same extent in every individual. Because they differ in training and experience, individuals differ in their ability to obtain knowledge. Mill also believed -- in any elitist theory this is crucial -- that a higher degree of intellectual and moral excellence is always found in relatively few individuals. And because the differences among men individually result in differences among them collectively, some classes of individuals are superior to other classes. A select minority is always superior in quality to a great majority.

Related to these beliefs are Mill's views about human conduct. An individual should act to promote his interests in order to obtain what he desires. This he can do only when he acts rationally, guided by experience. Mental ability is thus a requisite for moral conduct. Though individuals should act promote their interests, many actually do not. Ordinary individuals whose mental capacities are insufficiently cultivated cannot understand what their interests are or how to promote them. Out of passion and ignorance, they act contrary to their true interests, pursuing false ones. Hence they are incapable of moral conduct. Since a few mentally superior individuals know better than the rest what should and should not be done, individuals are not equal in their competence for moral conduct. Nor, of course, are classes of individuals. From these beliefs Mill derives his arguments against democratic rule and in favor of elite rule: In every field of human experience there are true principles which can be known. In the field of politics there is a body of knowledge composed of the most enlightened doctrines and the principles they justify. These principles are better understood by those who are specially trained and experienced than by others. By use of their practiced reason and acquired knowledge, they can determine the real interests of individuals and classes. The majority of individuals, who are incapable of moral conduct, are of course not qualified to decide how authority should be exercised. Just as lack of ability disqualifies the majority from ruling, exceptional ability entitles a minority to direct political conduct. Hence Mill's conclusion that a mentally superior minority should exercise authority according to the true principles of politics. Apparently Mill was convinced that by these arguments he had successfully rebutted the case for democratic rule. But Mill's claims for elite rule leave more than a few difficulties unresolved. His theory entails many assumptions of value which he is obliged somehow to justify. For Mill does not claim that a superior few in fact exercise authority or that authority is in fact exercised according to true principles. His claims are normative, not empirical: a superior few should exercise authority and it should be exercised according to true principles. It is from Mill's conception -- or lack of conception -- of the role of value in political conduct that most of the unresolved difficulties in his theory result, in one way or another. Mill is disposed to treat questions of value as if they were questions of fact. He mistakenly assumes that normative principles for guiding political conduct can be derived by an elite from their special knowledge or experience. A moral principle is, for Mill, a rule to be observed in conduct. Actual conduct may not be guided by Mill-type reason and knowledge, but moral conduct can be. By acting in accord with moral principles, an individual can promote his interests. Since an individual should desire to promote his interests, he should act morally. These assumptions of value, not fact, present real difficulties in Mill's theory. We can perhaps most readily identify the difficulties in Mill's use of the terms end and means of conduct. Moral conduct, says Mill, results from the use of a desirable means to achieve a desired end. By examining the end sought and the means used to attain it, the morality of conduct can be determined. A desirable means is the best possible way to attain the end sought. This test of means poses some difficulty for Mill's theory, but the significant difficulty centers on his test for the ends of conduct. Mill distinguishes between instrumental and ultimate ends. An instrumental end is desired not for itself but as a means to another end. Mill concedes that no proof can be offered for accepting an ultimate end; it is simply given, so to speak. But Mill then argues that, given an end, the proper means can be determined by use of reason and knowledge, and that those competent to judge the desirability of means are qualified to prescribe moral conduct. In so arguing Mill in effect claims that competence to determine the desirability of the means carries with it competence to determine the desirability of the end of conduct. For this claim there is no basis in fact. In practice the value of a means cannot be determined apart from the value of the end in view. Before an individual can act morally, a choice of an end as well as a means is required. The relation between an end and a means, hence a choice of means, may or may not turn on answers to questions of fact. And by reason and knowledge perhaps the relation between a lower and a higher end can be determined; the relation may be, as Mill assumes, a question of fact. However, the choice of an end of conduct, no matter its relation to another end,

still turns on answers to questions of value. For an act to be moral, the end as well as the means must be judged desirable. Hence Mill's claim -- that a superior few who know which means is best to attain an end are competent to prescribe moral conduct in practice -- does not stand up. Between what is desired by an individual and what is desirable for an individual there is a difference, obvious even to Mill. One is a question of fact, the other a question of value. Why should an individual act, not the way he desires, but the way Mill believes is desirable? The question suggests the problem of moral sanction. Why should a moral principle be practiced? In a theory of conduct founded on religious tenets, the ultimate sanction for moral principles is usually supernatural in character. In Christian teachings, for example, God punishes sinners: come the day of judgment, the damned enter eternal hell. Any sort of supernatural sanction is out of the question for Mill; the sanction for moral principles in his theory must be natural to this world. What Mill offers is the contention that experience shows conduct contrary to moral principles to have undesirable consequences: it is self-defeating for an individual, and it is detrimental to a society's progress. Supposedly, then, reason and knowledge conduce men to act morally. But this concept of moral sanction is meaningless even in Mill's own terms. He admits that experience shows nothing to ordinary individuals; only a select few ever see the light of true principles. Hence an ordinary individual cannot act morally if he acts in accord with his own desires. But he can act morally if he faithfully accepts as desirable whatever Mill believes is desirable. In Mill's theory, moral conduct for the majority of individuals depends on their unreasoned and uninformed acceptance of Mill's standards of value. A curious theory of morals indeed. What Mill desires is a question of fact, but what Mill believes is desirable is a question of value. Why should anyone accept Mill's standards of value? Of course he assumed that his value standards were a harvest of reason and knowledge; the principles Mill embraced could be discerned in experience by any intelligent and informed person. So Mill believed, wrongly. Mill's principles are in fact the discoveries of such scientists as Adam Smith and David Ricardo, Jeremy Bentham and James Mill. The principles were revealed, to be sure, not by true experience but by true prophets -- the preachers of the most enlightened doctrines of nineteenth-century British Liberalism. Some difficulties in Mill's theory which result from his inadequate conception of the role of value in political conduct are evident in the argument he advances against majority rule. Majority rule, Mill contends, means the domination of society by one class. For the general interest to be promoted, authority must be exercised according to the true principles of politics. The special interest of a majority conflicts with the general interest of all. A majority of ordinary individuals would from passion and ignorance, exercise authority for their class benefit at the expense of the rest of the community. A select minority who understand how the interests of individuals and classes can be achieved are best qualified to rule. The theoretical issue which Mill attempts to settle by this argument is indeed a serious one for any thinker who, like Mill, accepts the principle of popular sovereignty. For him the legitimacy of authority depends on the consent of the governed; without consent, rule rests on force rather than authority. Unless authority is in some sense exercised to advance a good common to the governed, there is no basis for consent. The practical issue is: How can authority be exercised so that the governed will consent to it? The form in which Mill poses the issue is: How can authority be exercised to promote the general interest of all the governed? This is not only a serious issue, but it is as well a difficult one to resolve satisfactorily. Many other political thinkers have tried, without success, to work out a practical resolution. Mill apparently appreciated the seriousness of the issue but not the difficulty in resolving it. His answer does not in practice dispose of the problem of the consent of the governed. Mill says that a qualified elite can determine better than the governed themselves how authority should be exercised, and it should be exercised not as a majority of the governed desire but as the general interest requires. This claim implies that standards of political value exist external to and independent from the governed; by consulting these objective principles, an elite can determine how authority should be exercised to promote the general interest. That such value standards exist is not evident in practice. It is evident, however, that what Mill

regarded as objective principles were in fact the value standards of a minor part of the British community. Lacking objective principles for determining political conduct, the principles observed must be those of the governed. Why should authority be exercised the way a minority believes it should rather than the way a majority desires it? This is not a question of fact. And because Mill argues that an elite must exercise authority contrary to the actual desires of ordinary individuals, he eliminates any practical basis for consent by a majority of the governed. By the democratic principles Mill attacks, on the other hand, this problem of consent is to a greater extent resolved. If the governed are to determine how authority should be exercised, the principle of majority rule is indispensable. According to this principle, the exercise of authority over the members of a community should be determined by the vote of a majority. The only practical way to find out what people desire is to ask them. Put the question to a vote. Otherwise what they desire is merely a matter for conjecture, not fact. Since the vote of the larger part shall be binding on the entire community, the exercise of authority conforms to a majority's desires. This principle at least assures that the larger part of a community will consent to the exercise of authority. Contrary to Mill's thesis, elite rule may or may not be desirable in theory, but in practice it is not desirable -- for a person who believes in the consent of the governed. Mill's theory, we find, is less firmly established in political experience than it is rooted in Mill's prejudices. The actual value of his Liberal principles Mill failed to appreciate. Consequently his effort to present a persuasive case for the practice of elite rule was largely unavailing. V John Stuart Mill was pre-eminently the middle-class philosopher of nineteenth-century British Liberalism. His political thought, like the Liberal creed itself, suffers from defects. Some are merely indicative of the time in which Mill lived and wrote: his thought necessarily bears the mark of a pre-Darwinian age. Others are reflective of the man's peculiar character, his odd personality and bent of mind. The most serious defects in Mill's political theory result from the role it was his destiny to play in British thought as the latter-day apologist for middle-class Liberalism. Mill was not a broad-gauged philosopher who probed the profound problems of the modern era. In considering politics, Mill's frame of reference was almost limited to nineteenth-century British experience. For a person who maintained that experience is the source of truth, Mill was surprisingly parochial in outlook. He wrote on a vast variety of subjects -- Hungarian refugees in Turkey, sugar plantations in the West Indies, spring flowers in southern Europe, landholding in Australia, and even the new constitution of California. But about such subjects Mill wrote without benefit of firsthand experience. He did have some direct contact with French life, having from his youth spent much time in France. He did have, too, as a consequence of his professional work, some understanding of British India -- the understanding of a career administrator in London who had never set foot on Indian soil. Mill's understanding of American life was superficial as well as secondhand. His writings reveal scant appreciation of American or, for that matter, of any other foreign experience. Mill's political writings are particularly narrow in perspective. In many passages of Representative Government, Mill does not seem to be considering representative government at all but rather to be commenting on the British parliamentary system. Despite his parochial outlook, Mill was never reticent about expounding political principles. From his limited British experience, he boldly inferred sweeping generalizations about the nature of political life. Some had little correspondence with facts. For example, Mill declares: Free institutions are next to impossible in a country made up of different nationalities. What about Canada? The United States? Switzerland? Though Mill talks much about experience, he was not, to put it mildly, rigorously empirical in his thinking. Often his political views are so directly observations about British experience that they have no relevance for any other political system. Mill was essentially a commentator on British politics who reacted to the passing events of his time.

And how did he react? Though Mill explored varied regions of intellectual inquiry -- he certainly was a versatile writer -- he produced no coherent system of political thought. In part this can be explained by his peculiar affiliation with Utilitarianism. John Stuart Mill was born into the Utilitarian movement. His father was the chief prophet of the Benthamite gospel, and the master himself selected young John as a protege. In his youth Mill was a leader of the Benthamite coterie called the Philosophical Radicals, champions of Utilitarian reform. But following a nervous breakdown and his intimate association with Harriet Taylor, Mill rebelled against the teachings of those who had so meticulously fashioned his mind. He no longer uncritically accepted the doctrines he had inherited from his father, yet he was unable to repudiate them completely. This dilemma in Mill's thinking is evident throughoUt his political writings. The characteristic format of a discussion of a political question by Mill is as follows. First he declares the Benthamite belief, and then examines the views of Bentham's critics. Next Mill concedes the partial inadequacy of Bentham's teachings and the partial validity of his critic's charges. Mill then adopts a third position, a higher synthesis, where he neither fully accepts nor rejects the Benthamite beliefs -- or those to the contrary. This is the format. But usually when Mill has concluded a discussion, little remains intact of the beliefs which distinguish a genuine Benthamite. The remark that John Stuart Mill was a Utilitarian only by accident of birth is, then, essentially correct. Though Mill professed the Utilitarian creed to the end of his days, he did not permit his views to be dictated by Utilitarian principles. For example, Mill insisted on a qualitative test for pleasure; in fact he insisted on qualitative tests for everything, contrary to the egalitarian tendency in Benthamite teachings. However, though abandoning the Benthamite system of beliefs, Mill failed to devise in its stead a coherent system of thought of his own. Mill's lifelong inability to choose between accepting or rejecting the Utilitarian system does not entirely account for the lack_of coherence in his political thought. In many instances Mill changed his views about political questions as his thinking matured; this is to his credit. But not all contradictions in Mill's views span the space of years. Some are separated by only a few sentences. An argument Mill advances against majority rule illustrates this. Majority rule is undesirable in practice, Mill says, because a majority would rule for the benefit of the many at the expense of the minority, contrary to the general interest of all. Only a mentally superior few who know the interest of all are qualified to rule. This argument can, in Mill's own terms, be turned with equal force against minority rule. For Mill also contends that power over others corrupts those who posses it. A ruler always tends to pursue his self-interest to the neglect of the general interest. It is not that the ruler may not know what the general interest is; the defect is one of will, not reason. The ruler knows what is right yet does wrong. But granted this moral depravity coincident with power as a fact of human nature, it is just as likely that a mentally superior elite would rule contrary to the general interest as that a majority would. What Mill's argument amounts to is the claim that any ruler, if he can, will use his power to benefit a part of the community. If this is so, elite rule actually is, on the Utilitarian terms Mill sometimes employs, a less desirable form of rule in practice than democracy. When a majority rules, it is the interest of a few rather than the many which is adversely affected. Of course Mill does not intend this at all. But the contradiction in his argument is indicative of a logical weakness which pervades Mill's political thought. The distinctive character of Mill's political thought cannot be explained, however, apart from his relation to British Liberalism. Mill was a product, not simply of Great Britain and the nineteenth century, but also of a definite social class. His lot was to serve as an apologist for the interests of the new middle class which had prospered from trade and industry. It was his fate to champion the Liberal cause at a time when the movement, having achieved its reform mission for the middle class, had outlived its historic purpose. Both the strength and the weaknesses of nineteenth-century British Liberalism are reflected in Mill's political thought. The traditional task of the British Liberal ideologist was to discredit rule by an aristocracy of birth and land. With the rise of industrial capitalism, the new class, drawn from the skilled trades and crafts, neither noble

rich nor common poor, acquired great wealth, profiting from the manufacture and sale of commodities. But wealth -- in money, not land -- gave the middle-class merchants and manufacturers no social status or political privilege; such the law of the land guaranteed to be a monopoly of the aristocracy. In its origins Liberalise was understandably a radical reform movement, bent on changes in the status quo. The Liberal demanded an end to government-sponsored privilege for the upper class. He demanded the repeal of legislation which favored a few at the expense of many. The Liberal agitated for reforms by which prosperous merchants and manufacturers could enjoy the status and privilege long the prerogative of the landed nobility. The triumph of the movement was symbolized by the Act of 1832; by that victory the door was opened for the middle class to achieve the social esteem and political influence which accorded with the wealth and talent they exhibited. Middle-class leaders rapidly rose to prominence in British life. By mid-century and the reign of Queen Victoria, the devotees of Liberalism had come to dominate British politics. But for the middle class, industrial capitalism was a mixed blessing. Along with prosperity for merchants and manufacturers, it brought forth another social class: the wage-earning employees. Displaced from farms and shops, gathered in commercial and manufacturing centers, these industrial workers were, as earlier their employers had been, without status or privilege in British society. And they were as well without wealth or education. As the working class grew in size and strength, their leaders demanded an end to privilege for a middleclass few at the expense of the working-class many. In fact they used the same arguments the Liberal ideologists had a generation before used against the aristocracy. But they did not stop short of the goal in their demand that special privilege be abolished. The working-class ideologists agitated for reforms by which every member of British society would enjoy social and political equality. Their goal was democracy. The task of the British Liberal ideologist in Mill's day had become, then, an exacting one. In the perspective of history. Liberalism was a half-way house between aristocratic and democratic rule. Passing time and changing circumstances compelled the Liberal propagandist first to discredit rule by an aristocratic elite and then to justify rule by a middle-class elite. The refuge for the Liberal who feared and despised demoracy was a scheme for rule by a few of supposed virtue and talent. Mill's formula for representative government, we have seen, was such a scheme to perpetuate rule by an elite of merit. In his devotion to the middle-class cause, Mill was remarkably consistent. Never did he waver in denying a claim to exercise authority from the rich and the wellborn, or from the untutored masses. Rationalizing the interests of a middle-class minority in his day, without doing violence to fact and logic, called for greater philosophical ingenuity than Mill could muster. Many times in the course of his lifetime Mill argued contrary positions on the same question. At one time he argued that judges should be made responsible to the people, yet in Representative Government we find him arguing against popular election of judges on the grounds that they should be immune to political influence. At one time Mill argued in favor of the secret ballot, yet later we find him contending that the vote should be cast in public because the secret ballot encourages the elector to neglect his public duty. At one time Mill argued in favor of pledging candidates for public office, yet later we find him saying that a candidate should make no pledges whatsoever to his constituents. These examples are not of exceptions in Mill's writings. They are indicative of a characteristic in his thought. Many views Mill entertained in his youth he later abandoned when they no longer served middle-class interests; many views he held late in life he had roundly criticized as a young reformer. Of course to convert a creed of reform into a catechism of reaction is no slight philosophical feat. Though Mill's attempt was unsuccessful, it was valiant. For his effort he earned a reputation as the foremost nineteenthcentury British Liberal political thinker. The theory he concocted puts to severe test the faith of a devout Liberal who still believes that fact and logic have some intellectual value. But this is as much a commentary on British Liberalism as it is on Mill's prowess as a philosopher. John Stuart Mill's political thought, a fine sum of middle-class values set forth in Representative Government, is a fitting monument of nineteenth-century British Liberalism.

5.3KarlMarx 5.3.1TheoryofAlienation Karl Marx (1818-83) grew up in Germany under the same conservative and oppressive conditions under which Kant and other German philosophers had to live. The Enlightenment had had some liberating effects on German life here and there, but most German principalities were still autocratic, and the idea of democracy was combated by all their rulers. The presence of police spies at major universities was a regular feature of German student life, and some students served long prison sentences for their political activism. As a law and philosophy student at the University of Berlin, Marx joined a political club that advocated political democracy. Very soon after receiving his doctorate, however, his ideas went beyond mere political reform. His future friend and collaborator Friedrich Engels introduced him to socialist and communist ideas, i. e., to ideas which progressed from mere political to social and economic reforms. For the rest of his life Marx dedicated himself to the project of radically restructuring modern industrial society along socialist and communist lines. In time he became the single most important theoretician and prominent leader of a growing international labor movement. Since Marx participated in the Revolution of 1848 as an influential newspaper editor (in a revolution that was defeated by the monarchists, and the defeat of which led scores of liberal Europeans to emigrate to the United States and elsewhere), he found it preferable to leave the stifling and backward conditions of his fatherland and to go into exile. He spent the rest of his life in London, the powerful center of advanced capitalism and modern industry. As one of the organizers of the international working class movement he found that most labor radicals had all sorts of moral misgivings about capitalism, and a number of utopian ideas of an ideal society of the future, but no solid grasp of how a capitalist economy actually works. Marx also found that his own understanding of economic matters was far from complete. He therefore embarked on a two-decade long study of what was then called Political Economy (sometimes also dubbed the dismal science). Living with his family in great poverty, and maintaining himself as a free-lance writer and journalist, Marx walked almost daily to the British Museum to study the works of such classical economists as Adam Smith, David Ricardo, and Thomas Malthus. He slowly wrote his main work, Capital, which was published in 1867. As he was personally much more interested in natural science, literature, philosophy, and mathematics than in economics, he resented most of the time he had to spend on the analysis of how money was made. As a classical humanist he thought that making a living or creating wealth should be nothing more than a means for the pursuit of more worthy things, not a serious end in itself. It was not until the 20th century that scholars found an unpublished study by Marx, the so-called Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844. This study consists of somewhat unorganized, difficult to read, but highly insightful notes which Marx jotted down while giving a first reading to the classical economists as a young man. The study has since gained prominence because in it Marx formulated more or less explicitly his Theory of Alienation--his analysis of how people are bound to become estranged from themselves and each other under the conditions of capitalist industrial production. This Theory of Alienation is often considered the philosophical underpinning for his later more technical critique of capitalism as an economic system. In a nutshell Marx's Theory of Alienation is the contention that in modern industrial production under capitalist conditions workers will inevitably lose control of their lives by losing control over their work. Workers thus cease to be autonomous beings in any significant sense. Under pre-capitalist conditions a blacksmith, e.g., or a shoemaker would own his own shop, set his own hours, determine his own working conditions, shape his own

product, and have some say in how his product is bartered or sold. His relationships with the people with whom he worked and dealt had a more or less personal character. Under the conditions of modern factory production, by contrast, the average worker is not much more than a replaceable cog in a gigantic and impersonal production apparatus. Where armies of hired operatives perform monotonous and closely supervised tasks, workers have essentially lost control over the process of production, over the products which they produce, and over the relationships they have with each other. As a consequence they have become estranged from their very human nature, which Marx understood to be free and productive activity. Human beings cannot be human under these conditions, and for this reason the implication was obvious for Marx: Capitalism has to be abolished as much as any political oppression if a soc ietys emancipation is to be complete. Capitalism is just as incompatible with self-determination as absolute monarchy or any other autocratic system. But while an absolute monarchy limits peoples autonomy by controlling them in the sphere of politics, Capitalism does so by controlling their workplaces and their economic life. A society of truly free citizens, according to Marx, must therefore not only be a political, but also an economic and social democracy. More specifically, real liberty does not exist unless workers effectively control their workplace, the products they produce, and the way they relate to each other. Workers are not fully emancipated until they work not in the way domesticated animals or robots work, but voluntarily and under their own direction. To accomplish this workers have to become the owners or controllers of their work places--the factories, railroads, hospitals, offices, and so forth on which they depend for their livelihood, and at which they spend the better parts of their days and lives. In contrast to earlier times, however, this ownership of the means of production cannot be individual anymore, since modern industrial production has irrevocably outgrown individual production in small shops; workers ownership of the means of production cannot but be communal or collective. Communities or societies as a whole have to make all major economic decisions in the way they make their major political decisions: by means of democratically elected legislatures and administrations. The communal and democratic ownership and control of the major means of production, and thus of the economy as a whole, is Socialism. In light of the largely failed attempts to realize Socialism in the 20th century (attempts that for various reasons ended mostly in undemocratic, oppressive, and economically weak regimes), it is important to point out that Socialism without political democracy is not what Marx had in mind. A society without democratic rights and freely elected governments cannot be considered truly Socialist, even if the means of production are nationalized or communally owned, as one of the main purposes of the introduction of Socialism is an increase in the degree of freedom and self-determination, not a lessening of it. 20th century Communist Party dictatorships have, therefore, always been defended by their organizers as merely temporary arrangements, as a way of preparing the conditions for genuine popular democracies that were to develop in the future. As mentioned earlier in the chapter on Plato, there has always been a debate--often acrimonious--within the political Left concerning the wisdom of such temporary dictatorships. Democratically minded Socialists and Communists always thought that the temporary dictatorships inaugurated by Lenin had existed far too long to be of any benefit for workers or anyone else. To turn to the details of Marx Theory of Alienation: The most basic form of workers alienation is their estrangement from the process of their work. An artist, unlike an industrial worker, typically works under his or her own direction; artists are in total control of their work. (That is why artists usually do not mind working long hours and even under adverse conditions, because their creative work is inherently meaningful, and an expression of their most personal desires and intuitions.) Even the typical medieval artisan, although more closely motivated by

economic needs, usually worked as a relatively independent person--controlling his own shop and up to a point choosing his own projects. In modern industry, however, workers typically do not work under their own direction. They are assembled in large factories or offices, and they work under the close supervision of a hierarchy of managers who do most of the important thinking for them. Planners and managers also divide complex work processes into simple, repetitive tasks which workers can perform in machine-like fashion (Adam Smiths famous principle of the division of labor). The rhythm of work is dictated by the quasi-military discipline of assembly lines or other regimented production systems, and by the requirements of the machines to which the workers are assigned. Workers thus are mere extensions of their machines, rather than machines being the extensions of workers. (They are the tools of their tools, as Thoreau put it.) Although workers have to exert themselves, often strenuously, in operating their machines, they are, in an important sense, passive--mere objects. Modern factory work, although highly productive compared with medieval craftsmanship, has become dehumanized drudgery work. Marx describes the situation in his Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 as follows: In what, then, consists the alienation of labor? First, in the fact that labor is external to the worker, i.e., that it does not belong to his nature, that therefore he does not realize himself in his work, that he denies himself in it, that he does not feel at ease in it, but rather unhappy, that he does not develop any free physical or mental energy, but rather mortifies his flesh and ruins his spirit. The worker, therefore, is only himself when he does not work, and in his work he feels outside himself. He feels at home when he is not working, and when he is working he does not feel at home. His labor, therefore, is not voluntary, but forced--forced labor. It is not the gratification of a need, but only a means to gratify needs outside it. Its alien nature shows itself clearly by the fact that work is shunned like the plague as soon as no physical or other kind of coercion exists. Workers do not control the process of their work because they do not own the means of production--the factories or offices, the land, the machines, the raw material, the fuel, or anything else that is necessary to manufacture a product. The entrepreneur who owns these means also buys the labor power of the workers that he employs. The workers, therefore, do not only have to work under the direction of the entrepreneur, they also have to leave the finished product in the entrepreneur's possession. This latter fact establishes the second aspect of alienation: the workers' estrangement from the product of their work. Modern industrial production produces a great variety of impressive things, but these things have mostly little to do with the lives and needs of the workers who produce them. In Marx' words: Labor, to be sure, produces marvelous things for the rich, but for the laborer it produces privation. It produces palaces for the wealthy, but hovels for the worker. It produces beauty, but cripples the worker. It replaces work by machines, but it throws part of the workforce back to a barbarous kind of work, while turning others into machines. It produces sophistication, but for the workforce it produces feeble-mindedness and idiocy. There are some things here to which one may want to object. For one thing, it may have been true in the 19th century that workers had to work under sweatshop conditions, that the workday lasted twelve to fourteen hours, that sometimes children were literally chained to machines to work, that workplace safety did not exist, that workers were deprived of education, and, most of all, that wages were so low that workers rarely could afford to buy the things they produced. But all this has since become very different. Capitalism in the 19th century may have been rather brutal, but the system has been reformed. Wages have increased, all sorts of benefits are provided by employers or social security systems, and today's industrial workers sometimes own and consume

more material goods than even members of the upper classes of earlier ages. The old political cartoons that showed the Capitalists with top hats, coat tails, and big guts, while depicting workers and their bedraggled families as emaciated, subdued wrecks, are surely outdated. Todays workers are not as exploited and miserable as M arx describes them, and the relation of Capital and Labor is not so antagonistic and bad as to justify such old concepts as class struggle or class war. Such objections are not pointless. Due to the long and often arduous struggle of unions, as well as the vastly increased productivity of industrial labor, the economic position of many workers has significantly improved since the days of the Industrial Revolution. Yet, the following facts make Marx' over-all theory still relevant. First, while many workers today are indeed better off, many others are not. There are occasional sweat shop conditions even in countries like the United States, and there are many countries where the majority of workers are as relentlessly exploited today as they were during the Industrial Revolution in the United States or in Europe. It is only the physical remoteness of most low-wage countries from the centers of capitalist affluence that make the often grim exploitation of cheap labor invisible to us. Second, the poverty of the working class to which Marx often refers can be understood in absolute and in relative terms. In absolute terms (in terms of how much workers have to eat, how much of a house they can afford, etc.) the condition of workers in highly developed countries has undoubtedly improved since the 19th century. In relative terms, however (in terms of what workers earn in comparison to what the owners of capital gain), the situation of workers has worsened. If an average entrepreneur or top manager once earned perhaps fifty times as much as any one of his workers, today's owners and managers typically earn hundreds of times more than the average employee. The general trend on which Marx had his eyes still prevails: The rich still get richer and more powerful, while the majority of ordinary employees can count themselves lucky if they have steady employment and more or less adequate benefits. In America in particular the income gap between the rich and the rest of society has been steadily widening. Since the imbalance of wealth usually translates into an imbalance of political power and influence as well, many capitalist countries tend to be, for all practical purposes, oligarchies rather than genuine democracies. Although their democratic institutions may be intact and functioning, their policies tend to be determined by wealthy elites much more than by citizens at large. The fact that workers do not own what they produce has far-reaching implications. Marx approaches these implications by observing: The object which labor produces, its product, confronts it as something alien, as a power which exists independently of the producer. In historical periods when labor was not as productive as in modern times it may have sounded like an exaggeration if someone had said that the laborer's product confronts the laborer as something alien--simply because the product does not belong to the worker anymore. Only in special cases, as when a feudal lord obliges his serfs to build a castle which is then used to keep down the very people who built it, does such language seem to be called for. Marx' description, however, is quite appropriate in a period of capitalist production, i. e., in a period when the productivity of labor is incomparably greater than under feudalism or in slaveholding societies like ancient Greece or Rome. The decisive difference is that capitalist production for the first time in human history has made it possible to replace, for most practical purposes, the natural world with a human-made world. While before the Industrial Revolution human civilization could still be seen as just making inroads into vast areas of wilderness, the 19th century quickly moved toward a situation where no area of the planet could escape the effects of industrialization anymore. While until the Industrial Revolution significant numbers of people may have been able to live independently of the products and the influence of industry, this became increasingly impossible as ever greater areas of the planet were subjected to the administration and utilization of industrial powers. (The fate of

the Plains Indians of North America provides a vivid illustration of this general process.) The most basic fact of capitalist industrialization is that it has created a world in which essentially all human beings are dependent on each other--and on the human-made environment which they have created with their increasingly productive labor. It is, thus, the entire human-made world which constitutes the product that confronts its makers as an alien power. Part of this human-made world is, of course the market and the business cycle with its often dramatic ups and downs. Business cycles, as well as other market dynamics, literally confront workers as forces beyond their control, as powers which often victimize them like floods, draughts, or epidemics. A worker's personal skill or willingness to work may not change at all, but a recession will throw him or her out of work regardless of his or her personal qualities and qualifications. Without any fault on his or her part, that is, a worker may suffer all sorts of hardships because of the impersonal forces of the market--the invisible hand, as Adam Smith called them in his classic The Wealth of Nations. Yet, while workers are at the mercy of forces beyond their control, it is their own accumulated labor which creates and maintains these forces. For the market is not a creation of nature, but the result of human production and consciously organized institutions. Workers, in other words, decisively help to build the world on which they are so precariously dependent. They diligently construct and maintain the production apparatus that determines their lives, and not infrequently punishes them severely. ( Till now each worker's patient day/ Builds up the house of pain, as William Morris put it in his poem No Master.) The image of workers building and maintaining the machinery of their own oppression applies not just to the market and its dynamics, but to the modern world at large. The more people produce (the more they replace the natural world with an artificial one), the more they become dependent on what they produce. Today this has become even more obvious than it was during the lifetime of Marx. Armies of workers, busy and thoughtless like ants, build huge industrial conglomerates with their corresponding administrations-- conglomerates which produce overwhelming floods of merchandise, which in turn transform the surface of the earth with ever increasing speed. Side products of this enormous productivity are awesome amounts of toxic waste for which vast bureaucracies and costly disposal systems have to be developed, and terrifying stockpiles of bombs, missiles, and other weapons of mass destruction which could wipe out this whole civilization in a matter of days. And periodically people are victimized by these, their own products, without quite understanding how and why. They are vaguely aware of these present dangers, but they feel powerless, and they try to escape into comforting distractions. In their everyday lives the millions are bruised and mauled by the mega-trends and crises of their human-made world even in times of peace, and they have grown used to the idea that these forces are something like a fate, and not the result of human activities and decisions. Hence Marx' description: All this results from the fact, that the worker relates to the product of his labor as an alien object. For it is clear ... that the alien, objective world will become the more powerful the more the worker produces; ... The alienation of the worker from his product does not only mean that his labor becomes an object, an external entity, but also that it exists outside him, independently, as something alien, that it turns into a power on its own confronting him, that the life which he has given to his product stands against him as something strange and hostile. This sheds some more light on the meaning of the poverty that Marx discusses in the Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844. The poverty to which he refers is only in part a poverty of material deprivation. To fully understand what Marx means one has to understand that Marx' highest value is not material consumption, but self-determination and self-realization. In Marx' philosophy high standards of living are not defined in terms of ever more food, drink, clothing, vehicles, appliances--in short, ever more things. A high standard of living rather

means rich experiences, fully developed emotions, closeness to other people, a good education, and so forth. A person with very few possessions, but with an intensive life, comes much closer to Marx' idea of a happy human being than a well-paid worker who can afford to buy many consumer goods, but who is neither informed enough to understand the society in which he lives, nor has the motivation to shape, in cooperation with fellow-workers, his working conditions or the political system in which he lives. A worker who is overweight, who spends most of his time watching commercial television, whose main conversations with colleagues deal with the sports page, and who is too tired or apathetic to participate in the political process--such a worker is not well off in Marx' eyes, but a victim of a system that is ripe with alienation in every sense. Marx was not so much interested in what people might have, but in what they could be. He was interested in people being alive, informed, and in control of their destiny. Marx was an Enlightenment thinker in so far as he aimed at personal and human autonomy foremost. And he remained in line with Kant's and Fichte's thinking in that he expected workers to cease being the passive objects of history, and to become the active makers of their own fate. The third aspect of the alienation of workers follows from the first two: As workers have no control over the process or the product of their production, because they do not own the means of production, they also have no significant control over how they relate to each other. They all are just an extension of the means of production that the owners of capital buy, and which the managers of industry employ to create and maximize profits. On a limited scale, workers sometimes organize themselves in labor unions, and not infrequently they practice solidarity in such situations as strikes. (The camaraderie that often develops in strike situations is a way of being human that usually has no place in the modern work world.) But even during strikes workers have to contend with strike breakers, indifferent fellow-workers, or working-class members who work as spies, hostile policemen, or goons. For the over-all situation is such that workers always have to look at each other as potential competitors for scarce jobs. (Which is one reason why the managers of a capitalist industry often prefer high unemployment to a situation where they have to compete for scarce labor.) The competitive situation among workers sometimes emerges with particular bitterness when lay-offs lead to conflicts between workers with seniority and groups who seek a foothold in a particular industry. In the United States, e. g., white male workers repeatedly displayed considerable hostility toward women and black men, because in a situation of job scarcity any newcomers were perceived as a threat. Workers, instead of feeling solidarity and organizing on the basis of their common interests, found themselves pitched and played off against each other. The racism and sexism that could frequently be found among white male workers is one way in which the general alienation of workers from each other has found a concrete expression. The fourth aspect of alienation is the estrangement of workers from their human nature in general, from their species nature, as Marx calls it. Potentially human beings produce freely and with deliberation. Free and thoughtful production would be the most authentic form of human existence. This does not only mean that human beings ought to be in charge of particular work processes, but also that they be able to produce without external necessity altogether--like artists who create for the pleasure of creating or for some other kind of inner satisfaction. Up to a point, of course, human beings have to produce to fulfill their material survival needs. But what distinguishes the human species is that human beings also produce what has no practical use, such as merely beautiful things. The horizon of human beings is wider than that of other animals: it transcends the limits of the survival needs of any particular species. It is, in this sense, universal. And it is, according to Marx, only when human beings have become universal beings that they are authentically human. None of this can be the case under conditions of capitalist industrial production, where most people have to labor for utilitarian purposes alone, and where few are free to work for themselves and under their own direction. In an economic landscape where the impersonal forces of the market dictate most aspects of human

behavior, most people are unable to ever develop fully their human potential. Capitalism, in other words, is in conflict with much of human nature, and thus should be abolished as soon as that is a realistic possibility. 5.3.2StrandsofContemporaryMarxism Marx predicted revolution in the capitalist West but in the event revolutions occurred in Russia, China and elsewhere. These societies quickly came to be dominated by the leaders of Communist parties. The poor gained little economically and their political liberties were, if anything reduced. The Fall of Communism in the USSR and Eastern Europe showed the defects of these regimes. For example, they could not generate the high living standards available in the West. Critics claim that we have nothing to learn from them, except that such experiments should be avoided. Capitalist societies have developed in the C20th in ways not predicted by Marx. For example; nd Marx predicted increasing unemployment. In fact since the 2 World War, there have been prolonged phases of near full employment. Marx predicted increased poverty. In fact absolute poverty in Western capitalist societies has been much reduced. Also the poor are protected by the institutions of the Welfare State which was in its infancy while Marx was alive. It was the case that for much of the C19th, the UK political system operated mainly in the interests of rich landowners and industrialists. These were the economically dominant Bourgeoisie; they were also a politically dominant Ruling Class. However, nowadays we have universal adult suffrage, occasional Labour Governments, large trade unions and pressure groups of all kinds so that working class people are represented more effectively at the political level. Politics is not now dominated by a RulingClass. Models of Democratic Pluralism are more useful in describing the distribution of power in capitalist societies. Because of this it has been possible to reform the capitalist system in such a way that revolution is now unnecessary. Capitalism may have developed into Post- capitalism such that Marx has become irrelevant. As a result of such reforms we now have: A comprehensive Welfare State as has been mentioned; Economic policies which result in rising living standards; A more equal distribution of income and wealth than was the case in the C19th. Some inequality remains but this can be justified in terms of the so-called FunctionalistTheory of Social Stratification in which it is claimed that social inequality is inevitable and beneficial in various ways. In any case there is now much more equality of opportunity such that everyone has a better chance of rising in the class structure, Marx argued that the division of labour under capitalism produced Alienation. This is equally likely to occur in Socialist societies. Marxs analysis of the capitalist class structure cannot be applied very effectively to the late C20th and early C21st. To discuss this it is necessary to be familiar with the theories of Max Weber, among other things. In addition, a Managerial Revolution is said to have occurred whereby large firms are no longer controlled by major shareholders but by senior managers. Therefore the economic power of the capitalist class is said to have been reduced, although they do remain rich. Marx is said to have underestimated the importance of the growth of the middle class. In his later work he actually did recognise the growth of the middle class but had little to say about them. Many members of the working class have experienced steadily rising living standards. They are content with their situation under capitalism. Some affluent manual workers may even have joined the middle class the so-called embourgeoisement theory. Divisions within social classes are more important than suggested by Marx as is the distinction between class and status.

For some manual workers the increased complexity of their work has reduced Alienation. They now find their work more interesting. In any case there will always be some alienating work in any industrial society, socialist or capitalist. There seems to be little evidence of the development of revolutionary class consciousness among the working class. According to some, postmodernists for example, class has become more or less an irrelevance in many peoples lives. Arguments such as these may be used to explain why Marxist style revolutions have not occurred in advanced capitalist countries. Modern Marxists and the Continuing Relevance of Marxism However modern Marxists reject the above arguments and argue instead that the Marxist critique of capitalism is still relevant in the C21st. Thus modern Marxists and others have challenged all of the above theories of postcapitalism and continue to argue that despite theories of the managerial revolution, democratic pluralism significant changes in class structure that even nowadays that the rich continue to exercise massive economic and political power. Among the criticisms made by Marxists of post-capitalist theories are the following: the ideas of the Managerial Revolution were inaccurate in that there would be no real change in business practices because of the similarities of class background (and, by implication) of attitudes and values of managers and owners, because managers often own large amounts of shares and because other company objectives presuppose profitability. Also, nationalisation had not reduced the power of the capitalist class because generous compensation had been given, because the profitable sector of private industry had not been nationalised and because nationalised industries recruited managers from private industry who followed broadly similar business objectives. Nationalised industries might even subsidise private profit from time to time. changes in the UK capitalist class structure had been far less significant than suggested by post-capitalist theorists: o it was recognised for example that any redistributionof wealth and incomewhich had occurred was mainly between the rich and the comfortably off (often members of the same families), with little improvement in the relative position of the poor; o even if the skilled sections of the working class had become more affluent they remained significantly worse of than most members of the middle class and had not by the mid 1960s at least significantly changed their attitudes and values; o Abel-Smith and Townsend had demonstrated that poverty at least in a relative sense, had not been eliminated by the Welfare State which, in any case, according to Marxists and others operated as an important agency of social control; o Social class differences in educational achievement remained significant and the chances that working class people might be upwardly socially mobile into the upper class were far smaller than the chances that people born into the upper class would remain there; o Marxists argued that the theory of democratic pluralism provided a grossly inaccurate explanation of the distribution of political power. By the late 1960s the most important Marxist analysis of the capitalist state was Ralph Miliband's study entitled The State in Capitalist Society in which he used the above arguments to criticise post capitalist theories before arguing that a modified Marxist theory of the state offered the best analysis of the indirect political power of the Bourgeoisie over the state even in th e1960s. Miliband argued firstly that there was very clear evidence that a recognisable Bourgeoisie with dominating economic power continued to exist: wealth and income were still unequally distributed; the theory of the managerial revolution overstated the economic power of managers and understated the continuing economic power of the property owning Bourgeoisie; members of the Bourgeoisie could pass their economic advantages to

their children with little difficulty; members of the working class and especially its poorer sections were at a massive economic disadvantage relative to the members of the upper class. Thus, MiIiband concluded, a dominant economic class continued to exist and to exercise economic power in the private sector. However, could MiIiband also demonstrate that this class exercised decisive power over the State; that it was, indirectly, a Ruling Class and that State activities served its interests often/usually at the expense of the rest of the population? On this point, Miliband and other modern Marxists would not wish to argue that the power of capital is the only factor determining the direction of State activity but that it is by far the dominant factor and that working class organisations (the Labour Party and the Trade Unions) are engaged in Imperfect Competition with it .They may in certain circumstances gain important victories but these victories do not challenge the overall dominance of capital and may in fact, ultimately help to sustain it by sustaining what Marxists consider to be the myth of pluralist democracy. The further elements of Miliband's analysis may be outlined as follows. Miliband follows conventional definitions of the State, seeing it as consisting of the institutions of central government, the administration or bureaucracy or Civil Service, parliamentary assemblies, the judiciary, the police, the military and local government.These institutions are, in turn, controlled by a number of State Elites, which, for a variety of reasons according to Miliband, will govern the State according to the interests of the dominant economic class i.e the Bourgeoisie. In Miliband's analysis as outlined in The State in Capitalist Society, the political dominance of the Bourgeoisie or the dominant economic class is seen as operating through the following mechanisms; 1 The continuing direct role of businessmen in State institutions: a large proportion of Cabinet Ministers have been involved in business and business people have also played an important role in central banking, nationalised industries and such state planning agencies as have existed from time to time and they could be expected to bring a capitalistic bias to government decision-making. However, it is admitted that businessmen fill only a small minority of all state elite positions. 2 However, political, administrative and military elites continue to be drawn from the higher reaches of the middle and upper classes The path to these positions will often be via prestigious public schools and universities and it is assumed by Miliband that this pattern of recruitment results in a powerful value consensus as between different state elites and between them and the dominant economic class. Many members of state elites are part of the dominant economic class or at least, on the fringes of it. There will be a strong tendency for state elites to define the national interest in terms of the interests of the dominant economic class and to support policies favouring maintenance or at most marginal change to the capitalist status quo. Differences of opinion may exist on matters of detail but not on fundamentals. Also, where talented working class people are recruited to elite positions, they will recognise that success demands the rejection of any radical views they might have held and, in any case, this evidence of upward social mobility into elite positions, if it is not studied too carefully be used to sustain the-myth of equal opportunity. 3 Miliband also refers to the wealth of the Bourgeoisie as a factor influencing its political power. For example, business pressure groups are well-funded and, therefore, more likely to be effective; business contributions bolster the election campaigns of right wing political parties although pluralist studies appear to call into question the dominance of business pressure groups, critics of pluralism have argued that the power of capital should be seen more in structural and ideological terms which cannot be picked up by pluralist studies and Miliband accepts this line of argument. 4 Developing the idea that The ideas of the Ruling Class are, in every age, the ruling ideas - the class which has the means of material production at its disposal has control at the same time over the means of mental production , Miliband points to the dissemination of a dominant class ideology via capitalist socialisation processeswhich is accepted by most members of the State Elites and by much of the leadership of the labour Party, especially,

perhaps, under Tony Blair. Meanwhile, Miliband argues that many working class people either accept the dominant class ideology or accommodate fairly passively to it and so they are not susceptible to persuasion by radical left ideologies. 5. Miliband makes the point that political power is visible through its consequences. Data on the distribution of income and wealth show that the UK is a highly economically unequal society: for Miliband these levels of economic inequality are maintained only because therich have the indirect political power to ensure that they are maintained. This then is the Marxist Theory of the Capitalist State as outlined in the 1960s by Ralph Miliband. Using it we can see that modern Marxists can still make a case for the revolutionary abolition of capitalism although of course conservatives, liberals and evolutionary socialists would \ reject the Marxist argument. 5.3.3Dialecticism The immense significance of Marx's theoretical achievement for the practice of proletarian class struggle is that he concisely fused together for the first time the total content of those new viewpoints transgressing bourgeois horizons, and that he also formally conceptualized them into a solid unity, into the living totality of a scientific system. These new ideas arose by necessity in the consciousness of the proletarian class from its social conditions. Karl Marx did not create the proletarian class movement (as some bourgeois devil-worshippers imagine in all seriousness). Nor did he create proletarian class consciousness. Rather, he created the theoretical-scientific expression adequate to the new content of consciousness of the proletarian class, and thereby at the same time elevated this proletarian class consciousness to a higher level of its being. The transformation of the natural class viewpoint of the proletariat into theoretical concepts and propositions, and the powerful synthesis of all these theoretical propositions into the system of scientific socialism is not to be regarded as a mere passive reflex of the real historical movement of the proletariat. On the contrary, this transformation forms an essential component of the real historical process. The historical movement of the proletariat could neither become independent nor unified without the development of an independent and unified proletarian class consciousness. Just as the politically and economically mature, nationally and internationally organized proletarian class movement distinguishes itself from the, at first, dispersed and unorganized stirrings and spasms of the proletariat, so too scientific socialism distinguishes itself as the organized class consciousness of the proletariat from those dispersed and formless feelings and views in which proletarian class consciousness finds its first immature expression. Therefore, from a practical point of view, the theoretical evolution of socialism towards a science, as expressed by Karl Marx in the Communist Manifesto and in Capital, appears as a quite necessary element within that great historical developmental process in which the proletarian class movement gradually moved away from the bourgeois revolutionary movement of the third estate and constituted itself as an independent and unified class. Only by taking the form of a strict science could this complex of proletarian class views, contained in modern socialism, radically purify itself from the bourgeois views with which from its origin it was inextricably connected. And only by becoming a science could socialism actually fulfill the task which Karl Marx and Frederick Engels had set for it: to be the theoretical expression of revolutionary proletarian class action which is to ascertain the historical conditions and nature of this revolutionary proletarian class action, thereby bringing that class which is called to action, and is today suppressed, to a consciousness of the conditions and nature of its own action. While in the foregoing exposition we have characterized the practical meaning of the scientific form of modern or Marxian socialism we have at the same time also described the meaning of the dialectical method which Karl Marx applied. For as certainly as the content of scientific Socialism was in existence as an unformed viewpoint (proletarian class viewpoint) before its scientific formulation, just as certainly is the scientific form in which this content lies before us in the works of Marx and Engels. Thus scientific socialism properly so-called is quite essentially the product of the application of that mode of thought which Marx and Engels designated as their dialectical method. And it is not the case, as some contemporary Marxists might like to imagine, that by virtue of

historical accident those scientific propositions which Karl Marx produced by the application of his dialectical method could today be separated at will from that method and simply reproduced. Nor is it the case that this method is out of date because of the progress of the sciences. Nor is its replacement by another method today not only possible but rather even necessary! Whoever speaks in these terms has not comprehended the most important aspects of the Marxist dialectic. How could one otherwise come to the thought that today-as at a time of increased class struggle in all spheres of social, thus also so-called intellectual, life -that method could be abandoned which is intrinsically critical and revolutionary. Karl Marx and Frederick Engels simultaneously opposed the new method of proletarian science to the metaphysical mode of thought (that specific weakness of thought of the last century) and to all earlier forms of dialectic (in particular the idealistic dialectic of FichteSchelling-Hegel). Only those who completely overlook that Marx's proletarian dialectic differs essentially from every other (metaphysical and dialectical) mode of thought, and represents that specific mode of thought in which alone the new content of the proletarian class views formed in the proletarian class struggle can find a theoretical-scientific expression corresponding to its true being; only those could get the idea that this dialectical mode of thought, as it represents only the form of scientific socialism, consequently would also be something peripheral and indifferent to the matter, so much so that the same material content of thought could be as well or even better expressed in another form. It is something quite similar when certain contemporary Marxists put forward the notion that the proletariat could wage its practical struggle against the bourgeois economic, social and political order in other forms than the barbaric uncivilized form of revolutionary class struggle. Or when the same people fool themselves and others by saying that the proletariat could achieve its positive task, the realization of Communist society, by means other than the dictatorship of the proletariat, for example, by means of the bourgeois state and bourgeois democracy. Karl Marx, who already in an early work had written the proposition, Form has no value if it is not the form of its content, himself thought about these things quite differently. Later Marx always emphasized anew that the real understanding of historico-social development (i.e., consciously revolutionary understanding that is at the same time positive and negative) -this understanding, which constituted the specific essence of scientific socialism, can only be brought about by the conscious application of the dialectical method. Of course, this new, or proletarian, dialectic on which the scientific form of Marxism is founded differs in the extreme, not only from the ordinary, narrow-minded metaphysical way of thinking. For, it is also quite different in its fundamental position from the bourgeois dialectic which found its most comprehensive form in the German philosopher Hegel, and in a definite sense it is even its direct opposite. It is impracticable and superfluous at this point to enter more deeply into the manifold consequences of these differences and contrasts. It is sufficient for our purposes that these differences and contrasts that we have pointed out lead us back without exception to Marx's proletarian dialectic as just that form in which the revolutionary class movement of the proletariat finds its appropriate theoretical expression. If one has understood this, or has just the faintest notion of the connection, one can comprehend immediately a whole series of phenomena otherwise difficult to grasp. One understands why the bourgeoisie of today has so completely forgotten the times when it had to fight as the third estate a tough and heroically ever-increasing class struggle against the feudal economic order and its political-ideological superstructure (aristocracy and church), and when its spokesman, the Abbe Sieyes, hurled against the ruling social order the quite dialectical outburst: What is the third estate? Everything. What is it in the existing order? Nothing. What does it demand? To be something. Since the feudal state has fallen and the bourgeois class has become not only something in the bourgeois state, but everything, there are only two positions in question on the problem of dialectics for the bourgeoisie today. Either the dialectic is a standpoint today completely out-of-date, only historically respectable as a kind of lofty madness of philosophical thought transcending its natural barriers, to which a realistic man and good burgher ought under no circumstances be a party. Or the dialectical movement must even today, and for all the future, make a halt at that absolute end point at which the last revolutionary philosopher of the bourgeois class, the philosopher Hegel, once made it come to

halt. It must in its concepts not cross those borders which bourgeois society likewise cannot cross without negating itself. Its last word, the great all-embracing synthesis, in which all opposites are dissolved, or can be dissolved, is the state. Opposite this bourgeois state, which in its complete development exemplifies the complete fulfillment of all bourgeois interests and is therefore also the final goal of the bourgeois class struggle, there is consequently no other dialectical antithesis to bourgeois consciousness, no irreconcilable opposite. Whoever may yet oppose this absolute fulfillment of the bourgeois idea in practice and theory departs from the hallowed circle of the bourgeois world; he puts himself outside bourgeois law, outside bourgeois freedom and bourgeois peace, and therefore also outside of all bourgeois philosophy and science. One understands why as far as concerns this bourgeois standpoint, which ordains contemporary bourgeois society as the sole thinkable and possible form of social life for humanity, the idealist dialectic of Hegel, which finds its ideal conclusion in the idea of the bourgeois state, must be the only possible and thinkable form of dialectic. Yet likewise, and understandably so, this idealist dialectic of the bourgeoisie is no longer of value to that other class within contemporary bourgeois society which is driven directly to rebellion against this whole bourgeois world and its bourgeois state by absolutely compelling need which can no longer be denied or disguised-the practical expression of necessity. In its whole material conditions of life, in its whole material being, this class already truly expresses the formal antithesis, the absolute opposition to this bourgeois society and its bourgeois state. For this class, created within bourgeois society through the inner mechanism of development of private property itself, through an independent and unconscious development by the very nature of the matter proceeded against its will -for this class, the revolutionary aim and actions are obviously and irrevocably indicated by its own conditions of life as well as by the whole organization of contemporary bourgeois society. The value of a new revolutionary dialectic that is no longer bourgeois-idealist, but is rather proletarian-materialist follows therefore with equal necessity from this social life-situation. Because the idealist dialectic of the bourgeoisie transcends the material opposites of wealth and poverty existing in bourgeois society only in the idea, namely in the idea of a pure, democratic, bourgeois state, these ideally transcended oppositions continue to exist unresolved in material social reality where they even continually increase in extent and severity. In contrast thereto stands the essence of the new materialist dialectic of the proletariat which really abolishes the material opposition between bourgeois wealth ( capital) and proletarian misery through the supersession of this bourgeois class society and its bourgeois class state by the material reality of the classless Communist society. The materialist dialectic therefore forms the necessary methodological foundation for scientific socialism as the theoretical expression of the proletarian class's historical struggle for liberation. 5.3.4HistoricalMaterialism The basic notion of historical materialism is well known. Plekhanov, one of its chief founders, puts it like this: It is the economic system of any people that determines its social structure, the latter, in its turn, determining its political and religious structures and the like. ... (T)he fundamental cause of any social evolution, and consequently of any social advance, being the struggle man wages against Nature for his own existence. ... Marxs fundamental idea can be summed up as follows: 1) the production relations determine all other relations existing among people in their social life. 2) the production relations are, in their turn, determined by the state of the productive forces. The basic principle of the materialist explanation of history is that mens th inking is conditioned by their being, or that in the historical process, the course of the development of ideas is determined, in the final analysis, by the course of development of economic relations. So, whatever the details of the mechanisms proposed by any of its many versions, historical materialism claims to be a way of explaining history. It deals with the causes of social evolution, stressing that history is governed by necessary laws that are as immutable as laws of nature. When Plekhanov talked about materialism, he wanted to conjure up those eighteenth century French thinkers like Holbach and Helvetius, who argued that human thoughts and actions had their roots in material

conditions of the lives of individuals. What they called matter, defined as what acts in one way or another on our senses, caused us to feel and think, and so to act, in specific ways. Plekhanov and Kautsky thought that Marxs materialist conception of history was an extension of this outlook to the explanation o f history. In his eagerness to extirpate all forms of idealism, one of their disciples, VI Lenin, was led to write about the analysis of material social relations ... that take shape without passing through mans consciousnesses. Historical materialists explain the transition from one stage of social development to another by the conflict between productive forces and social relations. Some practitioners here take productive forces to mean a discrete mixture: means of production plus labour-power. The question they ignore is why? Here are the two aspects of social life, one the human power to produce, and the other the social connections within which this power operates. But why are they separate? Why are they at war with each other? If you explain something, you have to stand outside it. A materialist explanation involves hypotheses about how some things external to the explainer cause other external things to happen. Here is the basic paradox: when the object to be explained is human history, it includes the wills and consciousnesses of the historical agents, not to mention the will and consciousness of the explainer. In general, they considered historical forces as determining the changes in social forms, as though history had nothing to do with the strivings of living men and women. Many devotees of historical materialism believed strongly in a socialist future and devoted their lives to struggling for it. Did they stand outside the causal process they imagined governed history, somehow immune to its influences? Some might think that Plekhanovs statement of historical materialism does not give a fair account of the theory. What about other, more sophisticated Marxisms? However, it thinks that Plekhanov, for all his crudity, actually gets to the heart of the matter. At any rate, he has the not inconsiderable merit of stating clearly just what he means. Since his opinions formed the basis for the outlook of Lenin and his followers, and therefore came to predominate in the Communist International, their influence on all later work is undeniable. When Stalin produced his obscene caricature, Dialectical and Historical Materialism, in 1938, Plekhanov certainly provided him with his model, one well adapted to bureaucratic requirements. So, while not everybody using the term historical materialism means exactly the same thing by it, what they all have in common is that they each have in mind a way of explaining history. This also applies to the various schools of Western Marxism, which often use the expression, although, they lack Plekhanovs virtue of spelling out just what they think it means. (Karl Marx himself, let us recall, never used the term at all.) Lukacs History and Class Consciousness, the origin of all such thinking, contains his famous lecture On the Changing Function of Historical Materialism, delivered in 1919 to his Budapest Institute for Research into Historical Materialism. Early in the lecture, he comes near to giving a kind of definition: What is historical materialism? It is no doubt a scientific method by which to comprehend the events of the past and to grasp their true nature. In contrast to the historical methods of the bourgeoisie, however, it also permits us to view the present historically and hence scientifically, so that we can penetrate beneath the surface and perceive the profounder historical forces which in reality control events. But what forces are these? How do they control events? Why are they beneath the surface? Although Lukacs goes on to relate this to his conception of proletarian class consciousness, (by which, do not forget, he does not mean the consciousness of the working class), he does not take issue with Plekhanovs ideas. But then, from the time he joined the Communist Party, Lukacs was incapable of disagreeing openly with Lenin and thus, on this topic, with Plekhanov. (Lenin did not feel the same way about Lukacs.) The story of the Frankfurt School is more complex. Before 1933, when they considered themselves Marxists, they used the term historical materialism fairly frequently, although assuming its meaning to be too wellknown to their learned readers to require elaboration. Later, as they moved to the right along their various trajectories, they expressed differences with the theory, but still without explaining exactly what they were disagreeing with.

In 1932, within a few months of the first publication of Marxs Paris Manuscripts, Herbert Marcuses extraordinary essay on them appeared. It is one of his most brilliant works, and undoubtedly completely original, since nobody had yet commented on the Manuscripts. But we would search it in vain for a direct reference to the topic announced in its title: New Sources of the Foundations of Historical Materialism. When Reason and Revolution came out in 1936, Marcuse had just as little to say about the subject. Nor is his 1958 Soviet Marxism: a Critical Analysis any more helpful on this point. In that book he treats Stalinist theory as a kind of Marxism, although he sometimes hints at its great distance from Marx himself. Marxs own ideas are not discussed in detail. Finally, let us mention two of the later representatives of the Frankfurt School. Jurgens Habermas, who once wrote extensively on historical materialism, clearly assumed it to be a theoretical explanation of history. Significantly, he recommends Stalins 1938 essay as a handbook of historical materialism. Alfred Schmidts History and Structure is an attack upon Althussers anti-humanist adherence to the Plekhanov story. He declares that his aim is to speak about the cognitive primacy of the logical over the historical, without abandoning the materialist bases. It cannot claim to have understood what this means. Marxism believed that it possessed a theory of history, a set of general explanatory ideas to guide revolutionary practice, while the theorys truth remained essentially outside any kind of practice. Of course, Marx himself was sometimes interested in explaining the world, but this was never his primary concern. His famous declaration that the point is to change the world was not a recommendation to alternate a bit of thinking with some practice (although that is the way some Marxists understood it), but an insiste nce that the objective truth of thinking was essentially bound up with the relations between human beings. (See Aristotles use of the word praxis.) Certainly, he was keenly interested in theoretical ideas. But when he examined a theory, it was to criticise its categories, and to investigate them as symptoms of social illness. Why does history need explanation? Only because it is not made consciously. Having given up the idea that the course of history is determined by Gods will, and accepted that it can only be made by the willed acts of living men and women, we are faced with a problem: why are the outcomes of these acts so different from what any of the actors envisaged? History appears to be something that happens to us, not something we do. Historical theory thinks it can penetrate the mystery of historical development, but it does not explain the source of that mystery. Its own categories are taken uncritically from the existing set-up. Marxs task was not just to solve this riddle in theory, b ut to uncover the reasons for the mystery in which our way of life is shrouded, and to ask: what must we do to live otherwise? In the light of the outcome of the French Revolution, the questions which Hegel asked also involved the relation between scientific thought and the world it tried to explain. He answered in terms of the cunning irony of History. Spirit, substance which is also subject, the I that is we, the we that is I, worked out its dialectical logic, behind the backs of individual consciousnesses. Although we have made society ourselves, it appears to us as if it were beyond ordinary thought, under the control of alien powers. Only philosophy can reveal what the human Spirit has achieved, and this only after Spirits work is done, when it is too late for the philosopher to tell anybody what to do about it. The old scenario about Hegel the idealist and Marx the materialist, in which Hegel was dressed up as Bishop Berkeley, and Marx as Holbach, or even as John Locke, totally mystified the relation between Marx and Hegel. For Marx, it was precisely Hegels idealism which enabled him to give an account of history, that is, history in its modern, alienated form. This was because Hegels account was itself alienated, set against its object. ... Hegel ... has only found the abstract, logical, speculative expression for the movement of history, which is not yet the real history of man as a given subject, but only the act of creation, the history of the origin of man. Marx agreed with Hegel that that history had indeed operated blindly hitherto, but contended that this was because it was the history of a false, inhuman way of life. A truly human life, communism, now coming into being, will be quite different. Our social relations and, centrally, our own consciousness of them and of ourselves

 will be transparent to us. This was where Marxs critique of Hegels dialectic began. A theory, even one as powerful as that of Hegel, assumes that its object is inevitably just what it is: For it is not what is that makes us irrascible and resentful, but the fact that it is not as it ought to be. But if we recognise that it is as it must be, ie that it is not arbitrariness and chance, then we also recognise that it is as it ought to be. Marxs critique a word which occurs in the title of almost all of Marxs major works turns questions of theory against the reality of the life which gives rise to them, demonstrating that this reality is inhuman. For him, the critique of philosophy, like the critique of religion ends with the teaching that man is the highest being for man, hence with the categorical imperative to overthrow all relations in which man is a debased. enslaved, forsaken, despicable being. Any attempt to describe this contradictory world in a theory is certain to run into difficulties. But these deficiencies may be taken as signals that questions had been raised which no theory is able to answer; to answer them would mean making actual changes in the world, not just in our heads. Then theorys equipment, the weapons of criticism, must be exchanged for the criticism of weapons. Let us take two examples, frequently linked by Marx: first religion and then economics. He did not devote any effort to finding out whether religious beliefs were true, but he was very interested in the question: why do people so obviously show a need to believe them? He concluded that society produces religion, an inverted world-consciousness, because it is an inverted world. Religion is the heart of the world, so its very existence demonstrates that this is a world with no heart. Marx admired the political economists who strove to explain why economic life works in the way it does. But the very existence of political economy as a science pointed to a mystery at the core of those economic activities in which everybody is engaged, which nobody can control, and which therefore are at the foundation of all social life. Here is where Adam Smith invisible hand does its work, the counterpart to Hegels Spirit. However, political economy cannot imagine the possibility of a human way of living. (Religion says it knows another way, but that it is not, unfortunately, to be found in this world.) This is the starting-point of Marxs critiques of religion, of Utopia, of Hegels dialectic and of political economy. A critique demands an explicit standpoint, a criterion against which to measure the object under criticism. Marx described his standpoint as that of human society and social humanity. In this, he differed from theorists, those whose main aim is explanation. They can never evade the task of justifying their premises, and this always leads them into a never-ending spiral of explanations. Above all, they can never explain themselves. Marx starts off with the knowledge that humanity is socially self-creating, while it lives in a fashion which directly denies this. This standpoint does not itself need justification, for it is the condition for discussing anything at all. Marx knew a criterion against which to judge history, which he grasped as the process of struggle through which socialized humanity and its self-knowledge bring themselves into being. That is why he can say that communism is the riddle of history solved, and knows itself to be this solution. Someone who attempts to explain history, or, indeed, to do any kind of social science, tells us that some human action had necessarily to take the form it did. But we, in turn, have the right to ask the scientist: how do you know? If peoples actions are determined by some necessity outside them, are you not yourself, along with your objectivity, determined by the same forces? Marxism insisted on calling Marxs conception of history materialist. But Marxs materialism has nothing to do with matter and mind, nor is it a theory of knowledge. Marx knew that the history he investigated was the process of alienated social life, in which consciousness was inhumanly constrained by social being. Knowledge of this process was not something external to it, but itself developed historically in the struggle of living men and women to break out of these constraints. Thus Marxs critical science was a part of the coming-to-be of real, human, self-consciousness, and presaged the coming-to-be of real, human, self-created social life.

Theoretical science, in the form of a particular scientific study, aims to explain some particular aspect of the world. Such a science cannot itself have a scientific explanation, any more than Utopia could explain itself. The great Utopians thought of themselves as scientific students of history. But their standpoint was that of the isolated individual, not situated within the actual world, but observing it from the outside. Utopianism told the world what it ought to be like. Thus their materialist doctrine must ... divide society into two parts, one of which is superior to society. Once Marx had discovered the historic role of the proletariat, he could clearly set out his alternative to this attitude: But in the measure that society moves forward, and with it the struggle of the proletariat assumes clearer outlines, they *the socialists+ no longer need to seek science in their minds; they have only to take note of what is happening before their eyes, and become its mouthpiece. So long as they look for science and merely make systems, so long as they are at the beginning of the struggle, they see in poverty nothing but poverty, without seeing in it the revolutionary, subversive side, which will overthrow the old society. From the moment they see this side, science, which is produced by the historical movement and associating itself consciously with it, has ceased to be doctrinaire and has become revolutionary. Science which takes immediate inhuman appearance as its given object cannot envisage a human kind of world. Its task is to show, by means of some mental image or logical model, that this appearance has to be just as it is. Hegels dialectic aimed to reconstruct within his system the development of the object itself, and of its relations with other objects. This was a huge advance. However, Hegel only saw these relations as ideas. Thus his dialectic, too, was limited, and later came to transfigure and glorify what exists (verklren das Bestehende). Marxs standpoint, human society and social humanity, enables him to do something quite different. He traces the inner coherence of his object money, say, or the State, or the class struggle. Then he can allow its inhuman meaning, its hostility to a truly human life, to shine through the appearance of naturalness and inevitability. Its own development lights up the road which will lead us to its abolition. Look again at Marxs view of religion. Peoples belief in another, heavenly, world points to the inverted, inhuman character of this earthly one. That tells us about religion, but we still have to understand theology, the scientific activity of systematising and formalising this belief. Marx, following Feuerbach, grasped this activity as itself a symptom of alienation. Theology, like political economy and historiography, is an upside-down expression of socialised humanitys efforts to become conscious of its own self-creation. Marx knew that human history was self-creation, the creation of man through human labour ... the emergence of nature for man.No theory of history whose horizons are limited by bourgeois society ca n know this. When it tries to describe the events of human self-creation, it remains imprisoned within a mental world which denies that such a process is possible. For communism, says Marx,the entire movement of history, just as its actual act of genesis ... is, therefore, also for its thinking consciousness the comprehended and known process of its becoming. Historians are spokespersons for the process in which humanity comes to be, creates itself and becomes conscious of itself, within alienation. But this process can only be grasped in terms of humanity as a united whole, and that unity is beyond their horizons. Humanity in its inhuman form appears as a collection of incommensurable, mutually incomprehensible, mutually hostile fragments. That is why, imprisoned within alienation, historians cannot know what they are doing. The historical movements cannot be seen for what they really are: the lifeactivities of individual human beings, struggling to free themselves. The historical forces, whic h historical materialism thinks dominate their lives, are seen as subjects, while the individuals whose lives are so determined are treated as mere objects. This inversion characterises the way life is lived and the way it appears, but it is not in accordance with the nature of humanity. Because he saw humanity as self-producing, Marx knew that productive forces are really the essential capacity of humans to act humanly, that is, to create their own lives. Man makes his life activity itself the object o f

his will and of his consciousness. These productive powers grow inside social relations who simultaneously promote and deny human creativity, which pervert and distort it, that is, which are alien to humanity. The successive forms of society are given to each generation, but the development of human productive powers makes possible the overthrow of all such forms. Thus the key conflict is between productive powers, which are potentially free, and social relations which appear in the form of alien, oppressive forces. In a human society, productive forces and social relations would be two different aspects of the development of the social individual. Today, however, the battle between them permeates every phase of human life. It secretes the poison which runs through the heart of every individual. Communism is the task of transcending this conflict, moving towards a society in which individuals will be able consciously to make their own social relations, so that the individuals obtain their freedom in and through their association. There has been considerable controversy among Marxists about the stages through which history has passed. A dogmatic historical materialism fixes an agenda for the movement from slavery, to feudalism, to capitalism, and only after the completion of this list to socialism. Those who help to move the list along, are labelled progressive, while those who call for socialism before its time, like those classes or nations whose existence does not fit into the schedule, have to be crushed. Many people have pointed out that Marx himself has no such unilinear notion. But what is not emphasised sufficiently is that, in that famous passage from the 1859 Preface to the Critique of Political Economy, which Marx described as the guideline *Leitfaden+ for his study of political economy, he was discussing human pre-history, history in its inhuman shape. The Communist Manifesto famously declared that the history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles. But Marx never forgot that class antagonism is itself one of the manifestations of alienation: Personal interests always develop, against the will of the individuals, into class interests, into common interests which acquire independent existence in relation to the individual persons. Every analogy between the proletariat and earlier classes is potentially misleading. The proletariat is unique among classes, in that its historic role is to do away with itself. It is a class ... which has n o longer any particular class interest to assert against a ruling class. It is the universal class, precisely because it is the complete loss of man, and hence can win itself only through the complete rewinning of man. In the course of this upheaval, it could and must succeed in ridding itself of all the muck of ages and become fitted to found society anew. It challenges the laws of history by forming itself into the historical subject. Marxs famous base and superstructure metaphor was distorted by historical materialism into a blind causal mechanism. However, on the single occasion when Marx used it, he referred solely to that prehistory, where economic activity dominated by self-interest fragments communal life. In civil society, the field of conflict ... between private interests and particular concerns of the community, community is shattered. On the one hand, economic activities are perverted, from expressions of human creativity into forms of oppression and exploitation. Only illusory forms of life falsely purport to represent the community. So, for instance, Marx claims that the State is the illusory community. Law and politics, and institutions and ideological forms corresponding to them religion, art and philosophy exist as a superstructure upon a fragmented economic basis. Marx said that consciousness is explained by the contradictions of material life, that it was determined by social being, and that the mode of production of material life conditions the general process of social, political and intellectual life. Historical materialism thought that these phrases described immutable laws of human development. Actually, of course, these were features of our inhuman life, its developing essence. While state, law, family, religion and all other antagonistic forms of life are our own work, these forms of our own social relations confront us as foreign powers, not merely independent of the will of individuals, but dominating them as enemies. All history is the outcome of conscious human action. But when human beings live inhumanly, their own social development appears as something outside their control. The tradition of all the dead generations weighs

like a nightmare [Alp] on the brain of th e living. Alienated history, Hegels slaughter -bench of nations, can only appear as a nightmare. Only if social relations were consciously made, opening up the space in which individual human creative potentialities can develop, would they be transparent to us. In such a true community, there would be no superstructure, and therefore no bases. Humans freely associating could freely create their own social and individual lives. Living in such a world, individuals could begin to grasp that history was their own process of origin, just as they would see nature as their own, inorganic, body. History has never been made by puppets controlled by laws. Living men and women have always struggled to tackle the problems of their time. But, constrained by social forms which were both their own handiwork and alien to them, they were unable to see how these problems could be overcome. This is how Marx describes the resulting appearance of historical necessity: This process of inversion is merely an historical necessity, merely a necessity for the development of the productive forces from a definite historical point of departure, or basis. In no way is it an absolute necessity of production; it is rather a transitory (verschwindene) one, and the result and (immanent) aim of this process is to transcend this basis itself and this form of the process. When society no longer appears as an alien second nature, whose laws seem to be immutable, we shall get to grips with the problems of living as part of first nature, that is, of nature. Natural necessity would remain, of course, to be studied by natural science, to be the collaborator with technology in satisfying human needs. But historical necessity would gradually be overcome and transformed. If this is materialism, it is certainly not the old materialism, whose standpoint was that of single individuals and of civil society. In the bourgeois epoch, the possibility arose of creating a new way of living. Within the antagonistic forms of the alienated world, the productive forces developing within bourgeois society have already created the material conditions for a solution of this antagonism, for a world of free men, working with the means of production held in common, and expending their many different forms of labour-power in full self-awareness as one single social labour-force. In such a truly human world, a world without superstructure, without the distortions resulting from the clash between social relations and human forces of production, without the opposition of means of production to labour power, human life would be self-consciously self-created. We could increasingly learn how to talk over the conflicts which have always arisen as part of social life, and collectively make possible the free development of individuality. This movement towards freedom would mean that our social self-consciousness could increasingly determine our social being. Historical materialism only describes the movement of alienated, life, but Marx views the whole of history as a process of overcoming alienation, and that, for him, is the point of studying it. Relationships of personal dependence (which originally arise quite spontaneously) are the first forms of society ... Personal independence based upon dependence mediated by things is the second great form, and only in it is a system of general social exchange of matter, a system of universal relations, universal requirements and universal capacities formed. Free individuality, based on the universal development of the individuals and the subordination of their communal, social productivity, which is the social possession, is the third stage. Historical materialism transformed that page from the 1859 Preface into a theory of history, while in fact it refers only the second stage of Marxs scheme. For him, the real importance of studying this stage of alienation, the prehistory of humanity, was to help us understand how it had prepared the ground for that third stage, the stage of human freedom, the beginning of our real conscious history. Herein lays the direct opposition of Marx to historical materialism. The theorists of Marxism wanted to explain the past or predict the future. But Marx was not chiefly interested in either of these. Instead, he studied history, as he studied everything else, to illuminate the struggle between a way of life which required explanation and one which would be worthy of our human nature. 5.3.5TheStateandRevolution

The Russian revolutionary V.I. Lenin wrote what became State and Revolution in the critical months immediately preceding the outbreak of the 1917 February Revolution in Russia. The arguments contained in the short book became a practical guide to Russia's working class in the period before and after the seizure of political power in November 1917. In the preface to the first edition, Lenin writes: The question of the state is now acquiring particular political importance in theory and in practical politics. The imperialist war has immensely accelerated and intensified the process of transformation of monopoly capitalism into state-monopoly capitalism. The monstrous oppression of the working people by the state, which is merging more and more with the all-powerful capitalist associations, is becoming increasingly monstrous. The advanced countries--we mean their hinterland--are becoming military convict prisons for the workers. The unprecedented horrors and miseries of the protracted war are making the people's position unbearable and increasing their anger. The world proletarian revolution is clearly maturing. The question of its relation to the state is acquiring practical importance. What else to read Karl Marx and Frederick Engels,The Communist Manifest. Frederick Engels,Socialism: Utopian and Scientific. Frederick Engels,The Origin of the Family, Private Property and the State. Karl Marx,The Civil War in France. Rosa Luxemburg,The Mass Strike. Rosa Luxemburg,Reform or Revolution. Vladimir Lenin,State and Revolution. Vladimir Lenin,What is to be done? Vladimir Lenin,Imperialism: The Highest Stage of Capitalism. All three works by Vladimir Lenin can be found inEssential Works of Lenin: What is to be Done? and other writings. Leon Trotsky,Permanent Revolution. State and Revolution addresses itself to these key political issues: the role of the state, why the working class must overthrow the bourgeois state, the dictatorship of the proletariat (Lenin used the term dictatorship to refer not to tyranny, but to the exercise of political rule; thus, the meaning of his phrase is the dictatorship of the majority, in contrast to the dictatorship of the minority that exists under capitalism, no matter what the form of government) and the transition from socialism to communism. But first, Lenin had to revive a Marxist approach to the state. Following the deaths of Marx and Engels and the growth of the Second International socialist parties, a reformist version of Marxism had come to replace the revolutionary ideas of its pioneers. The leaders of the Second International supported their own nation states in the imperialist slaughter of the First World War and used Marxism to defend their actions. Marxism was completely distorted and the revolutionary socialist movement left in crisis. As Lenin wrote: What is now happening to Marx's theory has, in the course of history, happened repeatedly to the theories of revolutionary thinkers and leaders of oppressed classes fighting for emancipation? During the lifetime of great revolutionaries, the oppressing classes constantly hounded them, received their theories with the most savage malice, the most furious hatred and the most unscrupulous campaigns of lies and slander. After their death, attempts are made to convert them into harmless icons, to canonize them, so to say, and to hallow their names to a certain extent for the consolation of the oppressed classes and, with the object of duping the latter, while at the same time robbing the revolutionary theory of its substance, blunting its revolutionary edge and vulgarizing it.

Today, the bourgeoisie and the opportunists within the labor movement concur in this doctoring of Marxism. They omit, obscure or distort the revolutionary side of this theory, its revolutionary soul. Thus, Lenin begins, our prime task is to re-establish what Marx really taught on the subject of the state. To do so, he draws on the work of Marx and Engels and uses extensive quotations from their writings. As Lenin argues: The state is a product and manifestation of the irreconcilability of class antagonisms. The state arises where, when and insofar as class antagonisms objectively cannot be reconciled. And, conversely, the existence of the state proves that the class antagonisms are irreconcilable... The state is an organ of class rule, an organ for the oppression by one class by another; it is the creation of order, which legalizes and perpetuates this oppression by moderating the conflict between the classes... Engels elucidates the concept of the power which is called the state, a power which arose from society but places itself above it and alienates itself more and more from it. What does this power mainly consist of? It consists of special bodies of armed men having prisons, etc. at their command...A standing army and police are the chief instruments of the state power. Thus, the ruling class rules through its monopoly and control over the means of violence in society. The ruling class uses violence against other ruling classes in imperialist war and against domestic (the working class) threats to its rule at home. The Notion that socialists could win elections and gradually remove capitalism through legislation had become widespread within the socialist movement before the First World War. Even now, this idea is understandable since we are brought up to believe that the will of the people can be expressed through democratic elections. When people don't vote we are told they are lazy, stupid or don't care. But as Lenin put, using quotes from Engels, In a democratic republic, Engels continues, 'wealth exercises its power indirectly, but all the more surely,' first, by means of the 'direct corruption of officials' (America); secondly, by means of an 'alliance of the government and the stock exchange' (France and America). This picture is familiar today. In a society based on exploitation and oppression, democracy is very limited-but, simultaneously, it is used to gain legitimacy for class domination. In any election, the ruling minority's control over the means of production is never up for debate. Lenin argues that the working class can only liberate itself and humanity through a revolution, something that reformist leaders had pruned from Marxism. Against the idea that socialists could simply and gradually take over the state, Lenin argued, based on the experience of the Paris Commune in 1871, that workers would have to replace the capitalist state machine with a new state, based on institutions of workers' democracy (workers' councils). The capitalist state would not simply wither away through successive pieces of legislation. In support of this argument, Lenin quoted from Engels: The proletariat seizes state power and turns the means of production into state property to begin with . But thereby, it abolishes itself as the proletariat, abolishes all class distinctions and class antagonisms, and abolishes the state as the state. However, to defeat the resistance of the bourgeoisie and begin the construction of a new socialist society, the working class needs a workers' state. As Lenin argues: The theory of the class struggle, applied by Marx to the question of the state and the socialist revolution, leads as a matter of course to the recognition of the political rule of the proletariat, its dictatorship, i.e., of undivided power directly backed by the armed force of the people. The overthrow of the bourgeoisie can be achieved only by the proletariat becoming the ruling class, capable of crushing the inevitable and desperate resistance of the bourgeoisie, and of organizing all the working and exploited people for the new economic system. The proletariat needs state power, a centralized organization of force, an organization of violence, both to crush the resistance of the exploiters and to lead the enormous mass of the population--the peasants, the petty bourgeoisie, the semi-proletarians--in the work of organizing a socialist economy.

Thus, the dictatorship of the proletariat would replace the dictatorship of the capital. While the reformists denied the need for a revolution that would destroy the power of the exploiters, anarchists, on the other hand, rejected the need for any kind of workers' state. The brutal experience of Stalinist dictatorships has given added life to the argument that all forms of authority and the state need to be opposed and abolished for workers' power to survive. But how, then, can the counter-revolution be fought? In Russia, the working class took political control over society and over the means of production. In response, there was violent resistance by the expropriated ruling class. It was necessary for the new Russian workers' state to organize a defense of the revolution. This defense failed, not because a workers' state was a mistake, but because revolution didn't spread internationally and allow Russia to overcome its isolation and economic backwardness. This is how Lenin took up the question: It was solely against this kind of abolition of the state that Marx fought in refuting the anarchists! He did not at all oppose the view that the state would disappear when classes disappeared, or that it would be abolished when classes were abolished. What he did oppose was the proposition that workers should renounce the use of arms, organized violence, that is, the state, which is to serve to crush the resistance of the bourgeoisie. To prevent the true meaning of his struggle against anarchism from being distorted, Marx expressly emphasized the revolutionary and transient form of the state which the proletariat needs. The proletariat needs the state only temporarily. We do not at all differ with the anarchists on the question of the abolition of the state as the aim. We maintain that, to achieve this aim, we must temporarily make use of the instruments, resources and methods of state power against the exploiters, just as the temporary dictatorship of the oppressed class is necessary for the abolition of classes. However, the workers' state would be very different from those based on minority rule. In State and Revolution, Lenin answers the question of what is to replace the state machine of the old order by referring to the Paris Commune: The Commune, therefore, appears to have replaced the smashed state machine only by fuller democracy: abolition of the standing army; all officials to be elected and subject to recall. But as a matter of fact, this only signifies a gigantic replacement of certain institutions by other institutions of a fundamentally different type. This is exactly a case of quantity being transformed into quality... The organ of suppression, however, is here the majority of the population, and not a minority, as was always the case under slavery, serfdom and wage slavery. And since the majority of people itself suppresses its oppressors, a special force of suppression is no longer necessary! In this sense, the state begins to wither away. Like Marx and Engels, Lenin never attempted to set out a blueprint for what a future socialist society would look like. However, State and Revolution contains a very useful and important discussion of the transition from capitalism to communism. Lenin believed it would be impossible to say exactly when the state would ultimately disappear, but that it would be a lengthy, drawn-out process and a struggle. A new society must emerge out of capitalism and will be marked in all respects by birthmarks from the old society--economically, morally and intellectually. For human beings to fully free themselves from the marks of class society will take generations. But society will become progressively more equal, and democracy will become fully meaningful, when more and more people take direct control over the running of society. The continual expansion of the means of production will end the material basis for competition, fear and want. To explain the higher phase of communist society, Lenin quotes Marx: In a higher phase of communist society, after the enslaving subordination of the individual division of labor, and with it also the antithesis between mental and physical labor, has vanished, after labor has become not only a livelihood but life's prime want, after the productive forces have increased with the all-around development of the individual, and all the springs of the cooperative wealth flow--only then can the narrow horizon of bourgeois

law be crossed in its entirety and society inscribe on its banners: From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs! In State and Revolution. Lenin synthesizes many aspects of Marxist theory with a brilliant grasp of the dialectical method to make a powerful case for revolutionary socialism. It should be required reading for all. 5.3.6SocialRevolution To the average Englishman Karl Marx is in regard to social politics an ultra- revolutionary State-Socialist, the advocate of violent overthrow of all constituted order in government. Considering the great influence Marx and his school of thought hold upon the Socialist labour movement of today, it may not seem untimely to investigate how far this impression is justified. What was Marxs position to social reform? In putting the question thus, w e have at once to contend with a difficulty. Marx during his life wrote a great deal, and, of course, also learned a great deal. Which of his writings represent the living Marx? The great mass of friends and foes alike treat a quotation from the Manifesto of the Communists in the same way as a quotation from Das Kapital. They adjudge to them quite the same value, as high or as low as their estimation of Marx may be. Now it is certainly true that from about 1846 there runs through all writings of Marx an identical line of thought. His conception of social evolution and of the historical mission of the modern proletariat, as laid down in the Manifesto, until the last underwent no change in principle. But for our purpose it is not only the general principle we have to consider, but also the application given to it by Marx in regard to questions of the day, its relation to time and ways and means. To assume that also in this respect Marxs ideas underwent no change at all, would mean that he was either a god or a madman. Yet of those who admit or proclaim that he was one of the greatest thinkers of our era a great many treat him in a way as only such assumption would justify. It is curious indeed how sensible people have not hesitated a moment to put into the mouth of a man whose keen intellect they profess to admire, the most idiotic nonsense. In his otherwise praiseworthy book on German Social Democracy, Mr. Russell, for example, says of Marx: In his views of human nature he generalised the economic motive, so as to cover all departments of social life, and there is no question, in Marx, of justice or virtue, no appeal to human sympathy or morality, might alone is right. (pp 8 and 14) If this were true, Marx as a social philosopher would be convicted at the outset. But it is an absolutely mistaken notion of the trend of Marxs theory. Mr. Russell could with as much right have said that in Darwins theory of the struggle for life there was no question of paternal love or tribal cooperation amongst animals. Marxs social theory is based on what he has called historic materialism, a conception of history worked out by himself and Frederick Engels in the forties of this century. According to it the ultimate forces in the evolution of social life, the ultimate causes that determine the evolution of morals are of an economic nature; they are to be found in the changes of the modes of production of the necessaries of life. To a given mode of production and exchange of the necessaries of life, correspond certain forms of social institutions and moral conceptions, and they will prevail as long as the former continues to exist, though not always in their purity or in absolute sway, as they have to contend with remainders of former institutions and the germs of a slowly evolving new mode of life, factors which call forth a certain variety such as everywhere we observe in nature. But in every period of history we can easily distinguish a prevailing mode of production and exchange, and a corresponding conception of life, and of duties and rights, which also prevail and determine the nature of the social and political institutions of the period. This is quite obvious in the earlier stages of social life. But the more complex society becomes, the more will the objective causes of social evolution recede into the background, and subjective ones appear to determine its course. But, powerful as the subjective factor is in history, it is still under the control of the working of the economic foundations of social life. It is in this sense that Marx says in the preface to Das Kapital:

Even when a society has got upon the right track for the discovery of the natural law of its evolution, it can neither jump over normal phases of its development, nor can it remove them by decree. But it can shorten and alleviate the pain of child-birth. People have stigmatized the materialistic conception of history as historic fatalism. But they have, as yet, not been able to point out a country where production on commercial lines and feudal law and morals are coexisting in full vigor. We have seen progressive movements, upheld by most energetic men, entirely collapse for no other reason than because they anticipated a state of social evolution which had not yet set in. On the other hand, wherever the industrial development has reached certain points, it has called forth social movements which, if different in garb, according to special geographical conditions, are in substance alike in all countries. Twenty years ago a whole generation of heroic youth risked freedom and life in Russia to bring about a social revolution. They were sacrificed in vain; the material premises of their idea did not exist. Semi-Asiatic conditions of life prevailed in the greater part of the country. Since then an increasing number of factories has been built, new railways have been constructed, the traffic increased, modern commerce extended all over the country, trade enormously expanded. These economic changes have revolutionised the brains of the people more than all the pamphlets and leaflets written in glowing terms and distributed broadcast by the young heroes who risked freedom and life for a generous ideal. Today it is admitted on all sides that Russia has her own labour movement. The dream, fostered by men like Bakunin, of saving the Russians the period of bourgeois economy is done with for ever; neither can the all-powerful Tsar to speak with Marx remove it by decree, nor can the fiery revolutionist make Russia jump over its phases of evolution with the aid of dynamite. In short, there is what we Germans call Gesetzmssigkeit an order of law in social evolution. Marx has formulated the main principles of it in his Criticism of Political Economy, published in 1859, as follows: A formation of society will not disappear until all productive forces are evolved for which it is wide enough, and new and higher systems of production will never be installed until the material conditions of their existence are hatched out in the very bosom of the old society. Hence humanity always sets itself only to solve problems it is capable of solving; for if you examine things closer you will always find that the problem arises only where the material premises of its solution exist already, or are at least in the process of being formed. So much for the objective side of social evolution. The main subjective lever of it is, as long as society is divided into classes, the class antagonism or class war. It has been said that, if such a thing has existed in former ages, it does not exist in advanced modern society, in our enlightened era of liberal or democratic institutions, and facts are extant in this country which indeed seem to disprove the whole theory of the class struggle. Do we not see the great mass of the workers in England appallingly indifferent towards any social reform movement which does not bear upon their individual and immediate interest? Is it not the visible result of the social inertia of the workers that labour questions have taken a back seat in Parliament, and would stand even still more in the background but for the great number of middle-class reformers? The facts, themselves, cannot be denied, but they do not disprove the class-war theory as put forward by Marx; they only disprove some crude and narrow interpretations of it. First of all there are different forms of warfare. The process of revolution, writes Marx, in the preface to Das Kapital, will take more brutal or more human forms, according to the degree of development of the workers. Now a great section of the wage-earners of this country have quite evidently made steady progress in regard to their social conditions. No wonder that they prefer what are called constitutional methods to the more violent forms of warfare. But, safe as this way is, it is not likely to arouse the passionate enthusiasm of the masses. Another reason of the apparent inertia of the workers in England, is perhaps just to be found in the fact that so many middle-class people have taken up social reform. To some extent this daily increase of middle-class reformers may be ascribed to a growing sense of social duty, although the growth itself again is an effect of, in the last instance, economic causes. But a much stronger force than the more or less ideological motives that have

induced people in middle-class position to take up the cause of social reform is the change the franchise reform has brought about in the political life of this country. It is not a little surprising how indifferent many English Socialists are in regard to questions of the suffrage, so that a very influential labour leader could two or three years ago refuse to take part in an agitation for universal suffrage not because it was inopportune, but that it was mere radicalism. In form, of course, it is, but with an adult population consisting in its majority of industrial wage-earners it is in substance more than that. Proudhon saw deeper when he declared that universal suffrage was incompatible with the subordination of labour to capital. And it is known what Lord Palmerston said of the changes Lord John Russells Franchise Reform of 1860 would bring about in regard to the House of Commons. I dare say, the actors will be the same, but they will play to the galleries instead of to the boxes. So far, history has not disproved his fears. Today the member of Parliament plays for an audience, the majority of which in most cases are workers, and he plays accordingly. There are very few of them who have not taken up at least one question of real or fancied interest to the workers as their speciality, from the legal eight-hour day to England for the English. Any question which a large section of the workers have at heart is sure to find a great number of advocates in the ranks of the middle-class legislators. All this gives the class struggle another form. It works today more as a potential than as an active force, more by the knowledge of what it might be than by actual manifestation. Politically as well as economically it is fought by sections or divisions, and often in forms which are the reverse of what they ought to be according to the letter, so that it might appear as if it were not the social classes that contest with one another the control of legislation, but rather the legislators that fight for the satisfaction of the classes. But the class struggle is no less a reality because it has taken the shape of continuous barter and compromise. Marxs book Zur Kritik der Politischen konomie appeared in 1859, the same year when Darwins Origin of Species was first published. Marx has often been compared with Darwin, and, in my opinion, very justly so. That Marx from the beginning took the greatest interest in Darwins researches, there is not the slightes t doubt. A letter of Lassalle to Marx of the year 1859, shows that Marx had called Lassalles attention to the Origin of Species as soon as the book had appeared. And, curiously enough, amongst the left manuscripts of Marx and Engels, I have come across one written not later than 1847, where I found a most remarkable passage pointing out with great vigour the struggle for life in nature. Of course, the term is not used, but the thing is clearly presented, and at the end we meet the following striking sentence: Hobbes could have founded his bellum omnium contra onmes with greater right on nature than on men. This, only by the way, But, from all said, so far, it is quite evident that Marxs theory is eminently evolutionary. Now evolution is, as the British Review recently said, a very comfortable word. You can, indeed, use it in the most Pickwickian sense. You can oppose it to revolution; you can construct an absolute contradiction between evolution and revolution. To Marx, evolution included revolution and vice versa;the one was a stage of the other. Not every revolution must be violent or sanguinary. But, besides those brought about by industrial changes alone, we have those phases of social evolution, which take the shape of, or are brought about by, political revolutions. They, too, have their drawbacks, undoubtedly, but they have also their advantages they clear away in a day the dust and the rubbish that else would take generations to remove they are, in the words of Marx, the locomotives of history. They are also mostly attended by a great intellectual impulse. Thousands of slumbering intellects are stimulated, wits are sharpened, ranges of sight widened. And when it so comes to violent struggle, then, of course, might is right as it has been in 1648,in 1793, in 1830 and in 1848. By that I do not mean to say that might was always justice. Marx, then, was, if you like to put it thus, a revolutionary evolutionist. But he was far from revolutionary romanticism. I doubt whether he would have subscribed to the sentence, that in the natural philosophy of Socialism light is a more important factor than heat, but I am sure he would not have subscribed to the contrary, that heat was more important than light. Indeed, in a declaration against a section of the Communistic League,

which then cultivated a very heated evolutionism, Marx said in September 1850 and I think these words ought not to be forgotten: The minority puts into the place of the critical a dogmatic conception. To them not real existing conditions are the motive force of revolution, but mere will. Whilst we tell the workers, you must run through 15, 20, 50 years of civil wars and struggles, not only for changing the conditions, but for altering yourselves and for rendering yourselves capable of political supremacy, you, on the contrary declare: We must at once capture power, or we may go and lay down to sleep. Whilst we explain, especially to the German workmen, how undeveloped the proletariat is in Germany, you flatter in the coarsest way the national sentiment and the sectional prejudice of the German handicraftsmen a process which, true, is more popular. Just as the Democrats have made the word people, so you have made the word proletariat a fetish. Just like the Democrats, you substitute the revolutionary phrase for the revolutionary evolution. Here the question may be raised how this evolutionist conception agrees with the concluding words of the Communist Manifesto, that the ends of the Communists can only be attained by the forcible overthrow of all existing conditions. To this the first reply is that the Manifesto was written on the eve of a revolution the Revolution of 1848 which, indeed, overthrew forcibly a good deal of the existing social conditions. The comparative youth of the movement, and, I may add, the youth of the writers themselves, as well as the very political situation of the time, explains the accentuation of revolutionary violence. Besides, the Communist Manifesto had a polemical purpose to fight the enervating communism of universal love then flourishing in Germany. It had to educate the workers for the impending political struggle which was sure to take revolutionary form. At the same time as Marx and Engels wrote these lines they, however, strongly opposed all playing with conspiracy. Putting educational propaganda in the place of conspiracy was the condition of their joining the League of the Communists. But it shall not be denied Engels himself has it in one of his last publications expressly stated that Marx and he in 1848 greatly overestimated the state of industrial evolution attained. They believed the breakdown of bourgeois civilisation to be within hail, if, however, to be worked out in a prolonged series of revolutions. And in their overestimation of the state of social evolution they were even less sanguine than other Socialists of the time. We all were firmly convinced, Bakunin later said to Benoit Malon, that we were living the last days of the old society. The year 1848 brought the great disappointment. How Marx understood its lesson the speech made in 1850 has shown. In our appreciation of the quickness of social movements we are always subject to error, and may have continuously to correct ourselves, whilst our theory holds well all the time. If his theory did not always protect Marx from a too sanguine view of the march of events, it, on the other hand, obliged him to propose nothing which was not based on a close study of actual conditions. He strongly resisted temptations to prescribe remedies for the future. To study the given economic conditions of society, to follow closely their march, to ascertain what to do not from an imaginary perfect Socialist world, but from the very imperfect world we live in and its actual requirements is therefore the task of the disciples of Marx. People may repeat in eloquent terms the general doctrines of the class war, and speak again and again of the social revolution and the socialisation of all the means of production, exchange, and distribution they will still be poor Marxists if they refuse to acknowledge changes in the economic evolution which contradict former assumptions, and decline to act accordingly. But better than all general deductions a rapid survey of Marxs own public life will illustrate the true sense of his social theory. Marx and Engels had worked out their theory in the years 1845 and 1846. The literary controversies in which they affirmed it form one of the most interesting and most instructive chapters in the history of Socialism. As early as that time both men were in intimate relation with the fighting representatives of advanced Democracy in different countries Chartists in England, Radical Social Reformers in France, Democrats in Belgium.

In Germany there were then not even great political middle-class parties formed: the whole political struggle was almost exclusively fought in newspapers and other prints. But just because the fight was a literary one a tremendous amount of Radicalism was displayed. Germans believed themselves much superior to English and French. They imagined they could do without those petty institutions these had to try, just as a generation later the Russians did with respect to the same nations Germany now included. Marx and Engels very soon overcame this superstition, and strongly opposed those Socialists who imported from England and France the condemnation of Parliamentarianism. They showed that this ultra-Radicalism was in fact reaction: the bourgeois liberties had first to be conquered and then criticised. They proclaimed that the Communists had to support the bourgeoisie wherever it acted as a revolutionary progressive class. When, therefore, the Revolution of 1848 broke out, Marx and Engels, instead of preaching Communism in a small private sheet, preached Radical action in a comparatively widely circulated paper they had founded in conjunction with advanced political Democrats the famous Neue Rheinische Zeitung. Fighting on political lines did, however, not mean neglect of economic questions. Just the reverse. In the Neue Rheinische Zeitung, amongst others, the case of the peasants against the feudal classes was advocated most energetically, and there Marx published his lectures on wage-labour and capital, and took in all real struggles the side of the workers. In May 1849, the paper was suppressed. Marx and Engels first resolved to go to South Germany, where a last battle was fought between the revolution and the reactionary governments. Whilst they in no way shared the political ideas of the South German Democrats, they were for saving what was to be saved for Democracy. But the battle was lost, and both had to emigrate. In London they tried to reorganise the Communist League. Like other revolutionaries, they first hoped that a reconquest of their position by the French Radical Democrats would revive the revolutionary movements all over Europe. But soon they recognised that this hope was not well founded, and they opposed all movements amongst the German emigrants of forming leagues for revolutionary attempts. The hatred they drew upon themselves by this was without bounds, and results of the campaign of slander waged against them by men, many of whom afterwards became obedient Bismarckians, can even be traced in our own days. It was then that Marx, because he declined to support an illusion which could only exact useless sacrifices, was declared a cold, calculating scribbler and system-maker, who had not a bit of feeling for the people; no heart, only reason; no heat, only dry too dry light. His reply or part of it, to such accusations we have given above. In a review then published by him he explained how commercial prosperity had set in, and that, with trade everywhere brisk, no general revolutionary rising was to be expected. Such revolution, he added, is only possible in times whe n there exists a conflict between those two factors, the modern forces of production and the bourgeois forms of production. Even the reaction did not know how strong the foundations of bourgeois civilisation were. Against this condition of things, he added, all attempts of reaction which aim at hampering bourgeois evolution will fail as surely as all the moral indignation and enthusiastic proclamations of the Democrats. Instead of devoting himself to emigration politics, Marx, whilst working hard, at a miserable pay, for his livelihood, and studying in the British Museum, supported what was left of the Chartist movement by gratuitous contributions to Ernest Jones papers, and lectured on social economy and other topics to a small nucleus of German workers. During the American Civil War he took energetically the side of the anti-slavery states, and readers of Das Kapital know how severely Marx censures Carlyles super-criticism of this to use his own words most imposing historical event. The 1860s saw the setting on foot of the International Working Mens Association, with Marx as its leading inspirer. When, somewhat later, the English Reform League was founded, an alliance of labour representatives and advanced Radicals for the purpose of pressing the then discussed Electoral Reform,the International, far from denouncing this compromise, supported it, and the General Council, in a report to the

International Congress of 1867, referred with a certain pride to the fact that some of its members were most active members of the Council of the League. The inaugural address and the statutes of the International are from the pen of Marx. They are proofs of his insectaria mind. He made them wide enough to be acceptable to all sections of the labour movement, and still precise enough to give the movement a distinct, well-defined class character. The emancipation of the working classes must be accomplished by the workers themselves, but it is no movement for new class monopolies and privileges; it is not a local or national, but a social problem embracing all countries, where modern society exists. Every political movement is only to be regarded as a means subordinate to the great end of economic emancipation. Truth, justice and morality shall rule the relation of the societies and individuals without regard to colour, creed or nationality no rights without duties, no duties without rights. To him who is unable to detect in works like Das Kapital appeals to human sympathy and morality, the rules of the International may be a proof that there was even with Marx a question of morality and justice, of duties and of love of man. The first years of the International went comparatively smoothly enough. The first congresses framed resolutions most of them drafted or suggested by Marx in favour of technical and intellectual education, factory laws, trade unionism, cooperative societies, nationalization of the means of transport, of mines and forests, and, later also, of land in general. But you read nothing of conspiracies and similar enterprises. The first international action which the council suggested was an independent inquiry made by the workers themselves into the conditions of labour. Then came the Paris Commune. The dissensions amongst the different French groups had already at an early time given a good deal of trouble to the General Council. After the downfall of the Commune they came to such a pitch that they took nearly all its time. Sections first invoked the authority of the Council, and when it was refused accused the Council of autocracy: Bakunin with his Anarchistic agitation aiding, the International broke up. A rival International created by Bakunin and his friends fared no better, in spite of its orthodoxy. Was the International a failure? Yes, and no. It failed so far as it undervalued the difficulties of international cooperation. But it was nevertheless a most powerful intellectual lever: its propagandist influence was enormous. In one case at least it helped to prevent war; and if it could not prevent the disastrous FrancoGerman war, it fostered demonstrations against it in France and Germany which afterwards had the most beneficial effect. The two Manifestoes of the International on the war are both written by Marx. Still of greater interest, perhaps, than these is a letter on the war Marx wrote in September 1870 to the Council of the German Social Democratic Party. There three days after the battle of Sedan he predicted as the necessary consequence of the then proposed forcible annexation of Alsace-Lorraine the Franco-Russian Alliance and Russias predominance in Europe. Those who in Germany clamorously demanded the annexation were, he says, either knaves or fools. Events have shown that these words were hardly too strong. In the same letter, however, Marx recognises that by the German victories one result at least was obtained for the German workers. Things will develop, he says, on a great scale and in a simplified form. If the German working classes, then, will not play an appropriate part, it will be their own fault. This war has shifted the centre of gravity of Continental labour movements from France to Germany . Greater responsibility rests, therefore, with the German working classes. Marx has often been painted as an embittered and soured emigrant. Little confirmation is given to such assertion by this letter, written, I repeat, three days after the battle of Sedan. (It was at the time inserted in a proclamation issued by the committee of the German Social Democratic Party.) Marxs position to trade unionism is illustrated by the resolution of the International strongly advocating trade organisation of the workers. As early as 1847 he had, in his book against Proudhon, taken sides for trade unionism, at a time when nearly all Continental and many English Socialists were dead against it.

With regard to cooperation, Marx shared the general preference of nearly all Socialists for cooperative production against mere distributive societies. And this is not surprising if you consider the narrow, dividendhunting spirit displayed for a long time by most distributive associations. Still Marx acknowledged their importance, if independent from state and bourgeois direction, as being examples of the superfluity of the exploiting capitalists and useful means of strengthening the position of the workers. But he emphasized their insufficiency, in face of the enormous means of capitalist society, for revolutionizing the whole industrial world. It was impossible, according to him, to bring about a whole revolution of society behind the back of that society, so to speak. For this end the very means and weapons of society were to be made use of. And this leads to the much discussed question of Socialism and state influence. Marx has been described alternatively as a hard and fast State Socialist, and as an anarchist opponent to State Socialism; as a rigid centralist, and as an ultra-federalist. In fact he was neither the one nor the other.He neither shared what he mockingly called the belief in state miracles, nor did he share the superstitious fear of the state. To Marx the state was an historical product corresponding to a given form of society, altering according to the changes in the composition of this society, and disappearing with it when its day was done. Before, however, this could be arrived at, the state machinery was to be conquered by the workers and used for the purpose of carrying out their emancipation. This was his original theory. Already in the 1860s, we see him in the International oppose state omnipotence in matters of education. (See Beehive, 14 and 21 August 1869.) The state was to make education compulsory, to ascertain that a fixed minimum of education was given, and to provide means and supervision in regard to efficiency. But education itself must be independent of state tutorship; its management must be left to the municipalities or similar popular bodies. In the famous pamphlet on the Paris Commune, Marx has more fully sketched out his ideas on the coming political organisation of society. There he declares bluntly that the working class cannot simply lay hold of the ready-made state machinery and wield it for its own purpose. On the other hand, nothing would be more against the purpose than to break up the big nations into small independent states. The unity of great nations, he writes, if originally brought about by political force, has now become a powerful coefficient of social production. It is not to be abolished. Through democratization of local and municipal government, by increasing the functions and powers of local elected bodies, through a proper system of devolution and delegation of powers the state was to be changed into a real commonwealth not a power above society, but a tool in the hands of an organized democracy. For details it must refer to the third section of the said pamphlet itself. The whole is rather sketchy, and not all perhaps practicable. But it is also not meant as more than a general outline, to be corrected by experience. One thing, however, is clear. You may call Marx whatever you like, you cannot call him after that a state idoliser and a fanatic for officialism. And here it may also refer to the famous sentence, Force is the midwife of old society in child -birth with a new society. A thousand times it has been quoted, and in 999 cases in the sense of an a ppeal to brute violence. But if we look to the passage where it is taken from, what examples of force do we find there? The Colonial systems, the funding system, modern taxation, the system of commercial protection. Some of these methods, says Marx, are based on brute force, as the colonial system. But all, he continues, utilise the power of the state, the centralised and organised force of society, to foster the process of evolution with hothouse vigour, and to shorten the transition periods. And then follows the sentence: Force is the midwife of society, etc. It is quite evident, then, that it is, before all, the utilisation of the power of organised society Marx emphasises here, and not brute force. In the same spirit he describes (Chapter 15, section 9 of Das Kapital) factory legislation as the first conscious and systematic interference of society with the processes of production. That lay stress on this point, not in order to whitewash Marx in the eyes of the Philistine, but because I think it only just to disconnect the cult of brute force and the unprovoked use of sanguinary phraseology from the name of Marx. Marx was by passion a revolutionary fighter, but his passion did not blind him to the teaching of

experience. He admitted in 1872 that in countries like England it was possible to bring about the emancipation of the workers by peaceful means. Today this is certainly still more the case, since the influence of the workers on the legislation has increased more than threefold. Not only societies, but also Socialists, have to learn. In the Franco-German Annals, which Marx, together with the neo-Hegelian Ruge, started in 1844, there is printed a curious correspondence between Marx, Ruge, Bakunin, and some other men on the principles of their projected review. In the concluding letter Marx says: Nothing prevents us from connecting our criticism with real struggles. We, then, dont appear before the world as doctrinaires with a new principle: Here is truth here kneel down! We unfold to the world from its own principles new principles. In the same year Marx became a convert to Socialism. He took it up in this realistic spirit, and overcame at once the then flourishing Utopianism. And in the same spirit he wrote after the downfall of the Commune: The working class did not expect miracles from the Commune. They have no ready-made Utopias to introduce pas dcret du peuple. They know that in order to work out their own emancipation, and along with it that higher form to which present society is irresistibly tending, by its own economic agencies, they will have to pass through long struggles, through a series of historic processes, transforming circumstances and men. These words alone dispel the idea that Marx expected the realisation of a socialistic society from one great cataclysm. The term social reform is as equivocal as all political terms. We are all social reformers today: some in order to fortify present society, others in order to prepare the way for an easy and organic growth of a new cooperative society, based on common ownership of land and the means of production. And even amongst reformers in the latter sense some will prefer a more cautious policy, others a more impulsive action. But intentions alone do not decide the course of development, and in a given moment the impulsive reformer may have to choose between destroying the chance of a real step in advance, and thereby delaying the whole movement, or, by supporting people whose ways generally are not his, help the carrying out of such progressive measures. However strong Marxs sympathies were with the impulsive reformer, where an important step in the direction of lifting the social position of the workers was in question he would certainly not have hesitated to part ways with him if he refused to lend a hand. 5.3.7Criticism ofMarxism According to Marxists and to other scholars in fact, literature reflects those social institutions out of which it emerges and is itself a social institution with a particular ideological function. Literature reflects class struggle and materialism: think how often the quest for wealth traditionally defines characters. So Marxists generally view literature not as works created in accordance with timeless artistic criteria, but as 'products' of the economic and ideological determinants specific to that era (Abrams 149). Literature reflects an author's own class or analysis of class relations, however piercing or shallow that analysis may be. The Marxist critic simply is a careful reader or viewer who keeps in mind issues of power and money, and any of the following kinds of questions: What role does class play in the work; what is the author's analysis of class relations? How do characters overcome oppression? In what ways does the work serve as propaganda for the status quo; or does it try to undermine it? What does the work say about oppression; or are social conflicts ignored or blamed elsewhere? Does the work propose some form of utopian vision as a solution to the problems encountered in the work? 5.4Other ContemporaryPoliticalThinkers 5.4.1 Laski

Right from his birth to death in 1950, Harold J. Laski was concerned mainly with the liberty and rights of the individual. As a progressive intellectual he insisted more on an experimental political philosophy based on a dynamic theory of state functions and a social psychology of the motives and desires of men than on abstract principles of politics. He always remained in search of a new faith, and came under the various influences which made him change his political ideas from time to time. At the successive stages of his career we find him as an ardent proponent of some sort of individualistic federalism, marxian socialism and democratic trade unionism. His activities as a political philosopher, teacher, party leader, public speaker and confidential adviser to public men, were so numerous that he found no time to revise his political writings and give them a consistent statement. Nevertheless, the corner-stone of his political philosophy was his faith in the individual. To establish this we must examine carefully his career. Harold Laski, the second son of Nathan and Sarah Laski, was born in a Jewish community on June 30, 1893. This was the period when different ideologies, such as Utilitarianism, Fabian Socialism and Communism were spreading with a view to reforming the various prevalent conceptions regarding sovereignty, parliamentary democracy and economic and political liberties of the individual. Laski, the product of such a period, imbibed its spirit fully. As a young boy he spent most of his time reading books on science and liberalism. They predisposed him to oppose all orthodox opinions and dogmas regarding the social and political institutions. It is interesting to note that the political movements which impressed young Laski in his undergraduate days, and to which he constantly referred in his early articles, were the womens Suffrage Movement, trade union movement in France and the alliance between Ulster and a section of the Conservative Party to sabotage the Liberals Home Rule Legislation for Ireland. These movements of the pre -war period were rooted in a violent outburst against the spirit of Victorian Liberalism. In this period the belief in the gradual progress in the status of women and the respect for constitutional procedures were rejected by the more violent Suffragettes and the radical trade unionists. It seemed as if the orderliness and respectability of the nineteenth century had become such a strain on the feelings of a number of men that they were trying to destroy the liberal world in which they lived. It was at this period that Laski spent his formative years in school and college, and he became a rebel against such an atmosphere. He felt the need to dedicate his life to find out a new world with a view to relieving the downtrodden common man from want, ignorance and misery that were noticed as the common feature of the Victorian era. He took part in Suffragette Movement and helped the strike of chainmakers by collecting money.At this time, though he remained content with constitutional agitation, the idea of revolution was agitating his mind. He wrote a short book with the title The Chosen People (which remains unpublished), in which he told that we should welcome the ideas of Darwin and Marx in order to get rid of traditional outlook that had become outworn. Further, he maintained that social truth could only be discovered in an atmosphere of freedom. Laskis first book was a translation of Leon Duguits book Law in the Modern State on political pluralism from French. At the same time, he was greatly influenced by the writings of the late F. W. Maitland while studying history at Oxford. Ernest Barker was mainly responsible for it. Barker, his tutor, himself being interested in the academic revolt against Hegelism, encouraged him in his study of mediaeval lawyers. Gierke, Maitland and Figgis had justified the theory of corporate personality as applied to religious and industrial organizations in society. Laski drew inspiration from them, and his earlier writings were devoted to the task of supporting the theory of corporate personality of religious bodies and guilds which were able to maintain their rights and independence against the state in the Middle Ages. He argued that trade unions should have a similar position in the modern society. But his theory of groups was different from that of Figgie, Gierke and Maitland. It was purely individualistic in essence, because he maintained it for safeguarding individual liberty. For this purpose he also made a special study of the legal system which protects the rights of associations and free speech in America. Laski thus started his career with an attack on the monistic theory of state sovereignty, as expounded by the idealists, considering it as dangerous to individual liberty. To defend individual liberty against the coercive authority of the state, he, on the one hand, tried to establish the corporate personality of groups, and, on the

other, he elaborated the individualistic theory of obedience to the state. His formula of contingent anarchy, appearing as it does in his individualistic theory of obedience, worked as a revision of the relations between the individual and the state. He criticized traditional political thought for its concentration on state power at the expense of the political society (the people), for its over-simple assumptions about human nature and for its penchant for deductive reasoning. He remarked: The simple a priori premises of Hobbes or Locke, the intriguing mysticism of Rousseaus General Will, eloquence about the initiative of men and its translation into terms of private property are no longer suited to a world that has seen its foundations in flame because to its good intentions an adequate knowledge was not joined. What we need...is the sober and scientific study of the conditions of social organizations. Quite often Laski called for a new inductive political philosophy, centred less on political principles than on administrative functions and based on a realistic social psychology that would do more justice to the complex character of human personality and motivation than did the psychology of Aristotle or Machiavelli or Hobbes. He did not approve of the classical theory of human nature that regards it as static and fixed. On the contrary, he asserted that human nature is dynamic and evolutionary. Like Graham Wallas, he thought that the new political theory, seeking an institutional structure that would offer opportunities for the creative expression of the diverse impulses of men more adequate than those provided by the sovereign state, should be grounded in a satisfactory knowledge of the motives and desires of men. Each man must be encouraged to realize his own personality, while the state must be so organized as to give scope to the individuals sense of spontaneity and his creative impulses, 2 thereby fostering the emergence of a wide diversity in the desires, attitudes and values of its citizens. Since he was primarily concerned with the preservation and promotion of individuality and spontaneity, he rejected order and unity as the final values. As hinted above, Laski studied carefully the pluralistic and pragmatic philosophies of Figgis and Maitland and James and Dewey, and found a point of view that was extremely congenial to his own opposition to the revived state idealism, and to his conviction, which marked him as heir to the utilitarian tradition of Bentham and the Mills, that the state was to be judged in the light of its actual contributions to the well-being of its citizens. The test of validity of state action is a pragmatic and utilitarian test. That is, how far successful it is in achieving its purpose, namely, the promotion of the good life for its citizens. Viewed in this fashion, the state becomes, he thought, what Duguit called a great public service corporation. Further, as he was aware of the dangers of concentration of powers in the state, he called its authority as federal. There are, he argued, various associations in society, and each of them has an important part to play in the development and enrichment of an individuals personality. But each association has only a partial contribution to make to the individual. The state, as one of these associations, can satisfy only the partial needs of the individuals, and therefore their allegiance to the state is partial. The state cannot regulate the whole life of a man, and it must share this function with other associations. The state, in this sense, is not independent. It is rather pluralistic and federal as society is federal. Laski thus argued in his earlier writings that the authority of the state should be federalized and mass participation in Political activity be increased. If these principles reflect his adherence to the ideals of individual and group freedom, they also constitute limitations upon the exercise of power, weapons for defending labour and its organizations against hostile action on the part of the state. There was, therefore, a fundamental ambivalence in his attitude towards the states final coercive power, and he conceived of the authority of the state a s conditional. The state is given power to control men and their voluntary groups in order that it may satisfy their common needs; it commands obedience to its laws from them as long as they are in their interest. But gradually his belief that the individual cannot develop his personality and enjoy freedom in the presence of economic insecurity, which he had maintained somehow or other from his early childhood and which he called as the central conviction of his life, became stronger after the publication of Grammar of Politics (1925) owing to the changed political and economic situations in Europe.

There was a great economic crisis in Europe, which he ascribed to the inefficient capitalist system. He felt that even the British and American democracies were unable to tackle their economic problems of this period. As opposed to the failure of economic policies in capitalist democracies, the Soviet Union had made great economic progress and had directed its efforts towards the equalization of wealth and the establishment of economic security for all the citizens. The comparison of the British and the American systems with that of the Soviet Union convinced him that the demecratization of state power was not the real solution of the problem, and that individual liberty was merely a function of economic equality. Consequently, his faith in some sort of humanistic socialism, mainly rooted in his sense of social justice, which he had maintained from his young age, became stronger. He himself had admitted: I have, I suppose, been a socialist in some degree ever since the last years of my school days. He also had recorded the influence exerted upon him while he was a schoolboy in Manchester by a great schoolmaster who made us feel the sickness of an acquisitive society, by the books he had read, especially those of the Webbs, and by a speech in which Keir Hardie had described the labour struggles of the Scottish miners. He became sick of the old economic structure of society and gradually started looking towards marxism for an answer. While accepting Marxs economic interpretation of politics and living under his strong influence, he called his early pluralism a half-way house to the real solution of the problem. For him the pluralist attitude to the state and law was a stage on the road to an acceptance of the Marxian attitude to them . His argument was that as the state was an executive instrument of the economically dominant group in society, it was necessary to destroy first of all the class-structure of society before limiting the powers of the state. In a classless society, he thought, the purpose and the function of the state would automatically change. With this also changed his definition of individual liberty as found in the first edition of Grammar of Politics (1925). He asserted that liberty was not so much a positive thing as it was a negative condition. As such, strong state action was essential both to protect the individual liberty and to change the old economic structure of society. Although Laski approved of the necessity of a strong state (during the period of transition from capitalism to socialism) with a view to bringing about a new economic structure and, at the same time, regulating the federal life of society, he was never in favour of the method which Russia had applied in replacing her old economic system by a new marxist system. He also did not welcome the dictatorship in Soviet Russia and the marxian identification of state with society. His fundamental belief was in the freedom of the mind, and he regarded society as federal in character. He always insisted upon the democratization of the state power. The groups, he said, must enjoy the necessary freedom in their own sphere of action, and they should participate in the process of administration. Without this the state would become coercive, and the liberty of the individual would remain in danger. He firmly argued that the benefits of civil liberties could not be sacrificed for the sake of a strong state for creating a new socialist state. He paid a glowing tribute to Britain for its democratic way of life in the following words: Nowhere have I found in greater degree either the qualities which make private life lovely or in public relations the instinctive embodiment of the anxiety forfair play...When all is said against this people that can be said, British leadership seems to me to have been a beneficent thing in the history of civilization. While accepting the power of the state as a stage to bring classless society, he did not dismiss the fears of bureaucracy and ignore the need for safeguards. He said unless we recognize that decentralization is the secret of freedom, government becomes they instead we; and that sense of aloofness is fatal to the fulfilment of personality. Do let us ceaselessly remember that planned democracy is planning for the individual citizen, and not against him. Holding the purpose of society superior to that of the state, he still insisted upon the need of participation of voluntary groups in the process of administration. The state should give to the groups their due place in the inquiries and negotiations that precede any final decision of the government. Representatives of voluntary associations should sit with and advise government officials on political and economic questions of common interest. There should be a network of advisory committees and industrial councils to guide the government at all

levels, and the rule-making powers should be more and more devolved upon territorial and functional assemblies in order to check the concentration of powers in the hands of the government. Such a mass participation in the democratization of state power, he regarded as highly essential to safeguard the individual and group freedom against the coercive authority of the state. His argument was that the atmosphere we required, if we wanted to attain happiness for the multitude, was one in which we were to gain everything by common experience and not by force and compulsion. In a dictatorship the leaders insist upon an artificial unity, and, as such, there remains no scope for diversities in social life. The chief danger to society, according to him, is from the desire of those who possess power, because they develop, in the long run, the habit of keeping society static for their personal gains. But society, he argued, is not static; it is dynamic and diverse. And the path to happiness is not a single one. Men are not willing to yield the insight of their experience to other mens insight, merely because they are commanded to do so. They love freedom and try to maintain it by all means because it is necessary for the development of their life. Laski remarked that liberty cannot help being a courage to resist the demands of power at some point that is deemed decisive; and because of this, liberty, also, is an inescapable doctrine of contingent anarchy. It is always a threat to those who operate the engines of authority that prohibition of experience will be denied. In place, of state dictatorship, Laski elaborated the idea of some sort of commonwealth of economic groups and trade unions, working side by side with the government. He pleaded that it was only with their consent and their collective effort that any economic and political change in society could be brought about. Thus he was in favour of a conscious change in which the masses participate actively and consciously. He was so enamoured of individual freedom and the democratic way of life that, in spite of his acceptance of the necessity of a strong state, he completely dismissed the idea of an all-inclusive state. He argued for a limited state authority with a view to maintaining individual liberty. He did not want that its authority should ever degenerate into dictatorship as it had happened in the Soviet Union. As he was conscious of society and its federal structure, he constantly regarded authority as federal and believed that the state necessarily worked in society as one of its agencies. It is society which always determines what should be the purpose and functions of the state from time to time. Thus the state, according to him, is merely a means to attain social justice, and it should work as an instrument of realizing the multitudinous aims of society. From the above analysis of Laskis career it can be stated that he was mainly concerned with the understanding of the problems of individual liberty in relation to the complexities of society and the restraining character of state authority. He did not discuss the claims of individual liberty, the nature of society and the character of state authority, separately, from an academic viewpoint. On the contrary, as a political philosopher, he viewed them as the most urgent, practical and interconnected problems of the modern age. He sought to reconcile their claims within the framework of actual experiences rather than abstract principles. Laski reflected the spirit of the period in which he lived. The time in which he was born and lived was the period of revolution and reform. The liberalism of the Victorian Age was crumbling down, and the various theories like pluralism, Fabian socialism and communism were becoming more and more popular. Under the influence of these theories, the claims of the people were put forward with a view to raising their standard of living, and there was a general demand to modify the existing political institutions in order to bring an overall change in their economic and political status in society. The change in the position of the working class and women was urgently needed. For that it was urgent, firstly, to change the economic order of society, and, secondly, to review the classical theory of state monism. Laski studied the problems of his time and tried to find out a solution to them. He was not an arm-chair thinker, but, on the contrary, he was out and out a practical man. He was always ready to admit his mistakes and revise his political ideas in view of the changed political and economic conditions, and, as such, he was not at all dogmatic in his attitude towards any political, or economic or social question. He remained sincere, throughout his career, to the cause of individual freedom and human progress, and discussed the

authority of the state in the perspective of the various demands of the federal society. Thus his theory of the state was a dynamic theory of state functions. Laski was a political scientist who was deeply interested in public affairs. He influenced the practical politics of England of his time, and was admitted as the real leader of the Labour Party. With the help of his great knowledge and intellectual power he guided the great political leaders like Attlee, Morrison and Bevin. Even the Beveridge Plan, introduced in the time of the conservative Prime Minister Mr. Churchill in 1943 in order to bring reforms in the fields of insurance, health, child welfare, relief in old age and working conditions of labourers, seemed to carry its reformative spirit indirectly from Laskis proposals for a radical reconstruction of the economic and political order. Laski himself had admitted that a number of fundamental principles should be recognised immediately, even if they could not completely be applied for the time being. Certain sectors of economy must be placed under public ownership; the educational and public health systems must be radically reformed and extended; a great housing programme must be started; there must be provision for relief in old age; and the state should control imports and exports. Though Beveridge Plan in the war period cannot be regarded to have been based on these principles of Laski, his indirect influence in its shaping is decisive. As a matter of fact, he was not satisfied with such meagre reforms as he wrote: These proposals do not assume the establishment of a socialist state at the end of the war..Their purpose is different, though a related one. These proposals only constitute, according to him, a beginning of the necessary movement to a free socialist state. Further, he not only guided the governmental policies of England, but he also inspired the statesmen in other countries to take up the work of social reforms after the Second World War. The conception of social welfare, which the Indian leaders at present keep in view to reshape Indias economy and politics, is similar to Laskis idea of social justice and the fundamental reforms mentioned above. Thus we can very well fi nd his influence in the practical field as it is found in the field of thinking. Laski remained the intellectual leader of a great number of people in England and exerted his influence, directly or indirectly, in shaping the various policies of the country. If he did not stick to one political faith in his life, it was due to his over-conscientiousness which made him hesitant about every political theory of the state. But whereas other 18th and 19th century thinkers failed in adjusting the claims of the individual to those of the state, he succeeded with his factual and realistic approach to the problem. Adam Smith, Ricardo, Malthus, Bentham and J. S. Mill were utterly practical, and they relied too much upon the selfish nature of the individual. These thinkers commonly shared the view that, as self-interest is the motive force in society, the state should interfere with commerce and industry as little as possible. Although they differed from one another on several points, their conclusion that liberty is the essence of restraint was practically the same. Such a conclusion regarding human nature was prompted by their defective knowledge of human psychology. Hence, their defence of the selfish nature of man and the freedom of opinion is not adequate to remove all our doubts. As they missed the academic and conceptual aspects of the problem, they failed in reconciling individual liberty to state authority. On the other hand, Green, Bradley and Bosanquet were university professors and their approach was too academic. As academicians, they idealized the state and accepted, to all intents and purposes, the majesty and might of the government. Even Green was no exception to it. He too insisted that the state was the only source of actual rights. By freedom he understood an identification of oneself with the Divine Spirit. And since he agreed that the Divine Spirit found its highest expression in the state, it is obvious how close was his approach to the Hegelian thesis that true liberty is realized in the state, to which Bosanquet and Bradley were wholeheartedly committed. Their conclusion regarding the realization of liberty by the individual was completely vague and not understandable. They, were not conversant with the practical nature of the problem, and, as such, they visualized things from a distance. Consequently, they also failed in finding out an adequate solution of the problem. Laski had an advantage

over both sets of thinkers. He was both an academician and a practical statesman. He looked to the problem at close quarters and could succeed in presenting a well-argued thesis on individual liberty. He followed a middlepath in opposition to the empty individualism of Adam Smith, Ricardi, Bentham and Mill and the pseudoHegelianism of Oxford idealists like Green, Bradley and Bosanquet. As such, Laskis undogmatic approach and his loyalty to the cause of human progress made him popular both among the common people and among the intellectuals. They were attracted towards him because he spoke to them about the questions that were uppermost in their minds regarding the economic and political problems of their age. He told them not to be dogmatic in their outlook and judge things on the basis of their usefulness in social life. The age we live in is an age of reason and criticism. It is an age in which we question and examine everything before we accept it. We cannot approve of things because they were found valuable in the past. He, therefore, warned them that it would be a sheer mistake to stick to one conclusion dogmatically. In his own life he was always found ready to admit the mistakes of his conclusions and revise them with a new vision. As a political analyst, he evaluated political institutions and political problems in relation to the life of the people and attached importance to them in view of their purpose and functions in society. 5.4.2Rawls A contemporary philosopher, John Rawls (1921-2002), is noted for his contributions to political and moral philosophy. In particular, Rawls' discussion about justice introduced five important concepts into discourse, including: the two principles of justice, the original position and veil of ignorance, reflective equilibrium, overlapping consensus, and public reason. What is interesting about these five contributions is how Rawls speculative thought has been used by scholars across disciplinary lines, influencing such diverse academic disciplines as economics, law, political science, sociology, and theology. A theory of justice... Rawls most famous work, A Theory of Justice (1971), provides an introduction to this body of thought as well as some of its implications for ethics. Like many philosophers before him, Rawls focused upon justice because of its substantive importance for organizing and governing society. The problem, however, involves defining what that term means theoretically (i.e., speculatively about organizing and governing society) and practically (i.e., the consequences for people and their lives). Generally, speaking, justice can be defined in one of two ways. One definition emphasizes an individuals merit or lack of it. According to this definition, each individual must be treated exactly as one deserves. This merit theory of justice, reflecting utilitarian ethics, uses merit to determine just how individual members of society will be rewarded or punished based solely upon whether one's conduct is useful or harmful to society. The need theory of justice, which assumes that individual members of society should help those other members who are most in need so as to redress their disadvantages, reflects the influence of natural law theory and Kant's categorical imperative. In this view, doing good dictates that every member of society recognize that need entitles the most disadvantaged to some sort of special consideration and that the more advantaged must compensate the disadvantaged with the goal of bringing them up to an acceptable level of advantage. Attempting to balance the demands posed by these rival theories, Rawls maintained that inequalities in society can only be justified if they produce increased benefits for the entire society and only if those previously the most disadvantaged members of society are no worse off as a result of any inequality. An inequality, then, is justified if it contributes to social utility, as the merit theory asserts. But, at the same time, Rawls argued, priority must be given to the needs of the least advantaged, as the needs theory asserts. Thus, differential rewards are allowed to the advantaged members of society but not because of any merit on their part. No, these rewards are tolerated because they provide an incentive for the advantaged which ultimately will prove beneficial to society (e.g., taxing the advantaged with the goal of redistributing the wealth to provide for the least advantaged). The original position...

Using a thought experiment Rawls called the original position from which agents behind a veil of ignorance select principles of justice to govern society; Rawls argued that two principles serve to organize society, the liberty principle and the difference principle. He rooted the original position in and extended the concept of social contract previously espoused by Hobbes, Rousseau, and Locke which made the principles of justice the object of the contract binding members of society together. In addition, Rawls advocacy of treating people only as ends and never as means rooted his philosophical speculations in and extended Kants categorical imperative. According to Rawls, a society is a cooperative venture between free and equal persons for the purpose of mutual advantage. Cooperation among members makes life better because cooperation increases the stock of what it is rational for members of society to desire irrespective of whatever else its members may want. Rawls calls these desires primary goods which include among others: health, rights, income, and the social bases of selfrespect. The problem every society must confront, Rawls noted, is that the members will oftentimes disagree about what constitutes the good and how the benefits and burdens within society will be distributed among its members. Some believe, for example, that the good consists in virtuous conduct which perfects the commonweal while others believe that the good is discovered in the pursuit of individual happiness, at least in so far as the members of society define these terms. Some members believe that an individuals merit should determine how one will participate in societys benefits while others believe that society must provide the least advantaged extra assistance so that they will be able to share equally in societys benefits. If society is to exist and to endure despite these and other such differences, its members must derive a consensus regarding what minimally constitutes the good. What consensus requires in actual practice is that the members of society agree upon the rules which will govern them as a society and that these rules will be applied consistently. But, Rawls asked, just how would a society and its members know what constitutes a fair principle? And, how would it be possible to determine what is reasonable for every member to agree with? Thompson cites the example of welfare to make this point: The growth of the welfare state has often been explained and defended as a progressive recognition that government should provide certain benefits (positive rights) in order to prevent certain harms to citizens (negative rights). Yet its opponents claim that the welfare state violates the negative rights of other citizens (property owners, for example). (1987, p. 104) Rawls responded to this challenge by invoking the original position, in which representative members of a society would determine the answers to these difficult questions. That is, absent any government, the representatives would rationally discuss what sort of government will be supported by a social contract which will achieve justice among all members of society. The purpose for this discourse would not be to justify governmental authority but to identify the basic principles that would govern society when government is established. The chief task of these representatives would not be to protect individual rights but to promote the welfare of society (1971, p. 199). To this end, the representatives do not knoware veiled fromwhich place in society they will occupy. In addition, every factor which might bias a decision (e.g., ones tastes, preferences, talents, handicaps, conception of the good) is kept from the representatives. They do, however, possess knowledge of those factors which will not bias ones decision (e.g., social knowledge, scientific knowledge, knowledge identifying what human beings need to live). From this original position and shrouded by a veil of ignorance about their place in society, Rawls argued the representatives ultimately would select the principle of justice rather than other principles (e.g., axiological virtues, natural law, utilitarian principles) to organize and govern society. While individual members of society oftentimes do act in their self-interest, this does not mean that they cannot be rational about their self-interests. Rawls argued that this is precisely what would occur in the original position when the representatives operated from behind the veil of ignorance. Freed from focusing upon ones self-interest to the exclusion of others self-interests, the society which the representatives would design

determines what will happen to its members and how important social matters like education, health care, welfare, and job opportunities will be distributed throughout society. The idea is that the representatives operating from behind the veil of ignorance would design a society that is fair for all of its members because no individual member would be willing to risk ending up in an intolerable position that one had created for others but had no intention of being in oneself. Why is this so? Rawls claimed that the representatives to the original position would invoke the principle of rational choice, the so-called maximin decision rule. This rule states that an agent, when confronted with a choice between alternative states of the world with each state containing a range of possible outcomes, would choose the state of affairs where the worst outcome is that state of affairs which is better than the worst outcome presented by any other alternative. Rawls' example of two persons sharing a piece of cake demonstrates how the maximin decision rule works in actual practice. Suppose there is one piece of cake that two persons want to eat. They equally desire to eat the cake and each wants the biggest piece possible. To deal with this dilemma, both agree that one will cut the cake while the other will choose one of the two pieces. The consensus derived guarantees that the cake will be shared fairly, equating justice with fairness. The two principles of justice... By equating the principle of justice with fairness, the representatives in the original position and operating from behind the veil of ignorance would elect to organize society around the liberty principle and the difference principle. The liberty principle requires dictates that each member of society has an equal right to the most extensive scheme of equal basic liberties compatible with a similar system of equal liberty for all. Accordingly, each member of society should receive an equal guarantee to as many different libertiesand as much of those libertiesas can be guaranteed to every member of society. The liberties Rawls discussed include: political liberty (the right to vote and to be eligible for public office); freedom of speech and assembly; liberty of conscience and freedom of thought; freedom of the person along with the right to hold personal property; and, freedom from arbitrary arrest and seizure. In contrast to some libertarian interpretations of utilitarianism, Rawls did not advocate absolute or complete liberty which would allow members of society to have or to keep absolutely anything. The difference principle requires that all economic inequalities be arranged so that they are both: a) to the benefit of the least advantaged and b) attached to offices and positions open to all members under conditions of fair equality of opportunity. If this is to occur, Rawls argued, each generation should preserve the gains of culture and civilization, and maintain intact those just institutions that have been established in addition to putting aside in each period of time a suitable amount of real capital accumulation. (1971, p. 285) Rawls is willing to tolerate inequalities in society but only if they are arranged so that any inequality actually assists the least advantaged members of society and that the inequalities are connected to positions, offices, or jobs that each member has an equal opportunity to attain. In the United States, this scheme is oftentimes called equal opportunity. The inequalities Rawls discussed include: inequalities in the distribution of income and wealth as well as inequalities imposed by institutions that use differences in authority and responsibility or chains of command. The reason the representatives in the original position and operating from behind the veil of ignorance would agree upon the difference principle is not due to the existence of a social contract but to ethics. That is, members of society do not deserve either their natural abilities or their place in a social hierarchy. Where and when one was born and the privileges and assets afforded by ones birth is a matter of sheer luck. It would be

unfair, Rawls contended, were those born into the least advantaged of society to remain in that place if all members of society could do better by abandoning (or redistributing) initial differences. According to Rawls, this is what ethicsaccording to the standard of justicedemands and, in the United States, this is the basis of what is oftentimes called affirmative action. The representatives would agree. The liberty principle must always take precedence to the difference principle so that every member of society is assured of equal basic liberties. Similarly, the second part of the difference principle cited above (b) must take priority to the first part (a) so that the conditions of fair equality of opportunity are also guaranteed for everyone (1971, p. 162). Thus, the two principles of justice, the liberty principle and the difference principle, are ordered because society cannot justify a decrease in liberty by increasing any member's social and economic advantage. Reflecting Rawls' interest in political philosophy, the liberty and principle and the difference principle apply to the basic structure of society (what might be called a macro view)society's fundamental political and economic arrangementsrather than to particular conduct by governmental officials or individual laws (what might be called a micro view). The liberty principle requires society to provide each citizen with a fully adequate scheme of basic liberties (e.g., freedom of conscience, freedom of expression, and due process of law). The difference principle requires that inequalities in wealth and social position be arranged so as to benefit societys most disadvantaged group. In cases where the two principles conflict, Rawls argues the liberty principle must always take precedence over the difference principle. One example that applies Rawls theory of justice involves how one would become a lawyer in the society designed by the representatives in the original position and operating from behind the veil of ignorance. This example also indicates how and why inequalities would exist in that society. In the original position and operating from behind the veil of ignorance, representatives organize society to be governed according to the liberty principle and the difference principle. In that society, any member of society can become a lawyer if one possesses the talent. So, a young woman discovers that she possesses the talent and interest to become a lawyer and decides that this is what she wants to do in her life. But, to get the education she actually needs to become a lawyer requires an inequality. That is, less fortunate people must help pay for her education at the public university's law school with their taxes. In return, however, this young woman will perform some very important functions for other peopleincluding the less fortunateonce she becomes a lawyer . At the same time, however, the lawyer will make a lot of money. But, she is free to keep it because she has earned it. At the same time, she will also pay taxes to the government which, in turn, will be used to provide needed programs for the least advantaged members of society. The issue of equitable pay also provides a practical example that clarifies how Rawls theory of justice can be applied (Maclagan, 1998, pp. 96-97). Noting that the principle equal pay for equal work is eminently fair in concept, Maclagan notes that not all work is equal. What is really needed in society is some rational basis to compare what sometimes are very different occupations and jobs, especially when this involves comparing mens work and womens work. Typically, the criteria used to compare dissimilar jobs quantifies work requirements as well as the investment individuals must make to attain these positions. In addition, the amount of skill and training required, the potential for danger and threat to one's life, the disagreeableness involved in the work, as well as the degree of responsibility associated with a job all figure prominently when making such calculations. In actual practice, however, making comparisons between dissimilar jobs is an immensely difficult undertaking, as Maclagan notes, citing as an example the difficulties management and labor both confront in the process of collective bargaining. Collective bargaining involves ethics because each party declares what the other ought to do. When these differences are resolved through a consensus, a contract provides the basic structure by which the members of that society (called the corporation) will organize and govern themselves for a specific period of

time. Coming to agreement upon a contractlike Rawls concept of reflective equilibriumrequires both parties to the collective bargaining process to align their principles and intuitions through the process of considered dialogue and mutual judgment. Furthermore, the contractlike Rawls difference principletolerates inequalities in pay but only as long as the least advantaged enjoy equal opportunity and their situation is protected if not improved. What is noteworthy about Maclagan's example is that the parties are not in the original position nor do they operate from behind a veil of ignorance. Instead, they have to move toward those positions if they are to adjudicate their differences amicably and for the benefit of both. The critics... Since its first publication in 1971, Rawls work has received some begrudging if not respectful criticism. Some have asked which members of society constitute the least advantaged? For his part, Rawls identified these people generally as unskilled workers and those whose average income is less than the median income. What Rawls failed to address, however, is the plight of those who may be the truly least advantaged members of society, namely, those citizens of some permanently unemployed underclass, who depend entirely upon government largesse to subsist (e.g., welfare), or whose racial or ethnic origins condemn them to permanent disadvantage. The critics ask: Should not their plight be considered more important than those who possess more of societys benefits? Furthermore, in so far as Rawls states the difference principle, it appears that inequalities are permissible but only if they better the lot of the least advantaged members of society. However, critics note, that position is inconsistent with Rawls claim that the representatives to the original position must not take an interest in anyones particular interests. The logic fails if preference must be given by those in the original position to the least advantaged. Lastly, Rawls critique of utilitarianism, his embrace of egalitarianism, and the actual effects of the difference principle combine in such a way that his philosophy can be construed to advocate political agenda with Marxist overtones. That is, in actual practice Rawls' theory would redistribute societys benefits away from the haves to the have nots with little or no concomitant bearing of societys burdens. Economists, for example, note that Rawls has neglected to consider the market forces unleashed in a capitalist society where seeking ones self interest is arguably the primary motivating principle. These critics argue that even the least advantaged, if they so choose can take advantage of the minimal benefits society offers them by virtue of citizenship. Through education, persistence, and hard work, the least advantaged (or, their children in the next generation) will be able to participate more fully in enjoying the benefits as well as in bearing the burdens of membership in society. The critics ask: Is this not what has happened to waves of immigrants to the United States during the past two hundred years? In light of these criticisms, Rawls modified the principles of liberty and difference. Pondering the question of social stability, Rawls considered how a society ordered by the two principles of liberty and difference might endure. In Political Liberalism (1996), Rawls introduced the idea that stability can be found in an overlapping consensus between citizens who hold diverse religious and philosophical views or conceptions about what constitutes the good to be sought. As with Maclagan's (1998) collective bargaining example, this overlapping consensus is found in their agreement that justice is best defined as fairness. In Justice as Fairness (2001), Rawls introduced the idea of public reason, that is, the reason possessed by all citizens which contributes to social stability, a notion he first detailed in The Law of Peoples with The Idea of Public Reason Revisited (1999). Summary: All that remains, Bentham supposed is to consider the amount of this pleasure, since the happiness of the community as an entire is nothing other than the sum of individual human interests. The standard of utility, then, defines the meaning of moral obligation by reference to the greatest happiness of the greatest number of people who are exaggerated by performance of an action. Likewise, Bentham supposed that social policies are properly

assessed in light of their effect on the general comfort of the populations they involve. Punishing criminals is an effectual way of deterring crime precisely because it pointedly alters the likely outcome of their actions, attaching the likelihood of future pain in order to outweigh the apparent gain of committing the crime. Therefore, punishment must fit the crime by changing the probable perception of the value of committing it. Mills metaphysics is perhaps less powerful now than it was in his own day. Surely, for many decades it stood in the shadow of idealism. His revitalization of formal logic inspired the developments that now date it. In the philosophy of science, his empiricism has for the most part stood the test of time. But his lasting influence has been in the areas of social philosophy and political. His resistance of utilitarianism and of liberty shaped the views of his own generation, and they continue to this day to encourage and to guide. There are many who might be critical of details of, say, the utilitarianism but who are moved by the same general idea of the good. Therefore, for instance, the philosopher and economist Amartya Sen is critical of various formulations of the utilitarian ethic in his Collective Choice and Social Welfare(1970), but evenly clearly is moved by Millian ends in, say, his Inequality Reexamined (1992) or Development as Freedom (1999). Sen is hardly alone in having views for which Mill is the clear inspiration. In thought particularly but also in action Mill made of the world a better place. Yet we remain with the question of whether Marx thought that communism could be highly praised on other moral grounds. There are surely reasons to believe that Marx did not want to make moral assessments at all, for instance, in the Communist Manifesto he writes that communism abolishes all religion and all morality, quite than constituting them on a new basis. Though, it may be that Marx here is taking morality in a quite thin sense. On a broad understanding, in which morality, or perhaps better to say ethics, is regarding with the idea of living well, it seems that communism can be assessed favorably in this light. One compelling argument is that Marx s career simply makes no sense unless we can quality such a belief to him. Quite possibly his determination to keep this point of difference flanked by himself and the Utopian socialists led him to disparage the significance of morality to a degree that goes beyond the call of theoretical requirement. However, while Rawlss vision is realistic it is also utopian. To believe that Rawlss vision is possible is to believe that individuals are not just selfish or amoral, and that international relations can be more than a contest for wealth, power and glory. Affirming the possibility of a just and peaceful future can immunize against a resignation or cynicism that might otherwise seem inevitable. By showing how the social world may realize the features of a realistic utopia, political philosophy provides a enduring goal of political endeavor, and in working toward it gives meaning to what we can do today (LP, 128). Key Terms History: People remember huge deeds and proceedings in the countrys history, and they follow the government out of a sense of historical pleasure. Religion: In some places, compliance to the government is seen as a religious obligation. Habit: Most people are lifted to obey the laws, and they thereby obtain the habit of obeying. Citizens give their government authority and legitimacy because that is what they have forever done. Representative Government: A political system in which citizens choose government officials who, performing as their agents, on purpose and commit the citizenry to a course of collective action. Unitary Government: A system of government in which a single government unit holds the authority to rule the nation (in contrast to a federal system, in which power is mutual among numerous governing units). Authority: The right to make and apply a decision. Capitalism: An economic system in which the means of production & distribution are essentially in private ownership for private gain at the expense of the non-owners. Mechanisms comprise free markets and freedom of contract.

Communism:

A social system in which goods & services are shared commonly (as in untimely Christian communities). An alternative of socialism that favors centralized public possession of the means of manufacture and the distribution of the products of labor.