A while ago, I interviewed Herman Daly, whose article on labor policy is on the opposite page. Towards the end of our discussion, we had shifted focus from economics and politics when Mr. Daly invoked his teaching experience to drive home a crucial point. He would always ask his students two questions, he said: “What are the presuppositions of policy? What do you have to believe already in order for this to be a sensible thing?” And he continued: “Two things always come up: You cannot be a determinist and do policy. And you also cannot be a nihilist. You need to be able to believe that things can change, and that some outcomes are better than others.”
Amen to that. Politics: the exercise of conviction, the search for alternatives, the joy of agency. It would be absurd to engage in politics – within the halls of parliament or in the streets – without subscribing to the ideals of non-determinism and non-nihilism.
Now contrast Daly’s statement with another quote, from David Cameron on the OLSX camp: “I don’t feel that it’s particularly constructive”, he said two weeks ago. It is ridiculous that the country’s prime minister can get away with looking at the most political square mile in the UK, at some of his most political constituents, and call it “not particularly constructive”. If there is something unconstructive (or even destructive?) about politics, it is surely to be found elsewhere in the City of London: In the partisan politics that reduce politics either to shallow theatricality or technocratic bureaucracy. In the shadow networks that dominate political decision-making and render any idea of the public interest laughingly insignificant. In the rhetoric of inevitability that dulls discussion and offends the creativity of the human soul.
Real politics require people who really are political. As Daly reminds us, there are always alternatives. And it is worth caring about them. Or, put differently: “People don’t know exactly what they want, but […] they know one thing: FUCK THIS SHIT! We want something different: a different life, with different values, or at least a chance at different values” (Matt Taibbi on Occupy Wall Street for Rolling Stone Magazine).
Seen in that light, politics in the interest of financial elites is a symptom rather than a cause of injustice. The marginalization of dissenting narratives and the narrowing of the scope of political imagination could not have happened without our silent consent. The problem, I think, is lethargy rather than apathy. Too many of us who care about politics and policy were simultaneously very happy to outsource responsibility for those politics and policies to elected and distant representatives. Our ritualized interaction with the political system happened at the ballot box, but that was the end of it. There were always activists seeking to change that dynamics, but neither did they represent the proverbial 99 percent, nor did they manage to unshackle and inspire mainstream discourses. We did not receive accountability, transparency, sustainability or justice because we – as consumers, citizens, neighbors, and individuals – did not demand it forcefully enough. We cared – but not too much.
Today, the tents at St. Paul’s have been up for a month, Liberty Park Square has been occupied for two months. Thousands of General Assemblies have been held in hundreds of camps around the world. Tentcity Uni has kicked into full gear, Ed Miliband has flip-flopped (as has the Anglican Church), and the Tobin tax has become a household name. It has become too hard to avoid the discussion.
Yet there is a second lesson to be drawn from Daly’s initial statement: If there are always alternatives, no success should be taken for granted. There is no incremental change that cannot be reversed, no policy that cannot be changed – which is yet another reason why the logic of “you have been heard – now pack up and go home” does not seem to hold. The inertia of the status quo requires an inertia of dissent. The idea that political discussion can be compartmentalized and neatly packaged (and then stored away) is yet another sign of the misunderstanding of politics itself. The camp remains active because the need for discussion remains pressing.
When you wanted to insult someone in ancient China (but do so politely), a handy proverb came to use. With a smile on your face, you could turn to your enemy and declare: “May you live in interesting times”. With the same smile (but without evil intentions), I wish the same today for ourselves. May we live in interesting times, the only times worth living in. And to the movement: Grow, baby, grow! You have not reached your prime yet.
By Martin Eiermann
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