After Liberalism Read online

  After Liberalism

  NEW FORUM BOOKS

  Robert P. George, Series Editor

  A list of titles in the series appears at the back of the book

  After Liberalism

  MASS DEMOCRACY IN THE MANAGERIAL STATE

  PAUL EDWARD GOTTFRIED

  PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS

  PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY

  Copyright © 1999 by Princeton University Press

  Published by Princeton University Press, 41 William Street, Princeton, New Jersey 08540

  In the United Kingdom: Princeton University Press, Chichester, West Sussex

  All Rights Reserved

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Gottfried, Paul Edward

  After liberalism : Mass democracy in the managerial state / Paul Edward Gottfried.

  p. cm.—(New forum books)

  Includes bibliographical references and index.

  ISBN 0-691-05983-7 (cl : alk. paper)

  1. Welfare state. 2. Public administration. 3. Social engineering. 4. Liberalism. 5. Democracy. 6. Pluralism (Social sciences) 7. Populism.

  I. Title. II. Series.

  JC479.G67 1998

  351—DC21 98-9623 CIP

  Acknowledgment is due to the following periodicals for graciously granting permission to republish parts of chapters 1, 2, and 3 of the present work that originally appeared in their pages: Society (vol. 32, no. 6, September–October 1995, pp. 39–51); The Journal of Libertarian Studies (vol. 12, no. 2, Fall 1996, pp. 231–51); and Telos (vol. 104, Summer 1995, pp. 27–50).

  This book has been composed in New Baskerville

  Princeton University Press books are printed on acid-free paper and meet the guidelines for permanence and durability of the Committee on Production Guidelines for Book Longevity

  of the Council on Library Resources

  http://pup.princeton.edu

  Printed in the United States of America

  1 3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  Contents

  Introduction

  vii

  CHAPTER ONE

  In Search of a Liberal Essence

  3

  CHAPTER TWO

  Liberalism vs. Democracy

  30

  CHAPTER THREE

  Public Administration and Liberal Democracy

  49

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Pluralism and Liberal Democracy

  72

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Mass Democracy and the Populist Alternative

  110

  CONCLUSION

  135

  Notes

  143

  Index

  177

  Introduction

  THE 1996 U.S. election confirmed, if further substantiation was needed, the centrality of entitlement programs in American politics. The charge leveled repeatedly and effectively by President Bill Clinton was that his Republican rival Robert Dole would slash Medicare and other government allowances. Despite overwhelming public sentiment in favor of balancing budgets and shrinking government, as Gallup Polls revealed in Spring 1996, 53 percent of Americans opposed the cutting of social programs and 54 percent were against a significant reduction in military spending (this being a critical source of social entitlements and public sector jobs).1 The efforts made by Dole and other Republicans to present themselves as fiscally responsible guardians of the welfare state had only limited success. Though Republicans held on to Congress, Dole could not save his presidential bid, nor, as columnist Charles Krauthammer points out, did even heroic efforts keep Republican congressmen from losing badly in Florida, Arizona, and in other states with large geriatric populations.2 By the spring the president’s attacks on the opposition as the enemies of Medicare (for suggesting a need to raise premiums and to restrict some medical services) were finding their target. Among those sixty-five and over, Clinton led Dole consistently by 15 to 20 points in all major national polls.3

  Whether Clinton and his strategists were engaging in demagoguery, as Krauthammer, Paul Craig Roberts, and other Republican journalists insist, is for this study beside the point.4 More relevant, Medicare and entitlements in general became the salient electoral issue, and the increasingly vague appeal to “family values,” which had belonged to the Republican rhetorical arsenal in the past, now worked to Clinton’s advantage. Family values came to signify the Family Leave bill and other social measures that the president had pushed through Congress. And though the majority of Americans stood to the right of Clinton on, among other moral issues, partial-birth abortion, the identification with a caring state enhanced his image as an upholder of family life.

  This obviously accounts for much of Clinton’s appeal among women voters, as columnist Maggie Gallagher argued in the wake of the 1996 elections. Women, Gallagher says, are as likely to vote for pro-life candidates as they are for pro-choice ones and have been active on both sides of the abortion issue. If they are now voting in ever larger numbers for Clinton and other left-of-center Democrats, Gallagher explains, it is because Democrats are perceived as “pro- family.” The gender gap in voting, which is now at about 10 to 12 percent, indicates the material concerns of single women, particularly those heading single-parent families. In view of their trials, such women are looking to the Democrats as supporters of an entitlement-based welfare state. But this trend, continues Gallagher, should not be misread as an espousal of social liberalism. Unmarried women vote overwhelmingly for candidates of the Left because they think it aids them materially, not because most of them embrace a liberal ideology.5

  Although this distinction is correct, it may also be academic. Gallagher’s observations simply prove that Clinton’s advisors calculated correctly: by associating family values with social programs, they won over the vast majority of single women, including those who appear to be ideologically to their right. They also further pushed the Republicans into awkwardly mimicking ambivalent polls, which showed that the majority of Americans want to reduce “big government” while protecting its results. Dole and other Republicans called for renouncing the collectivist Devil and his works but pledged to keep entitlement programs intact. They and Clinton found a symbolic way of ending the “welfare state as we know it” by signing a bill to reduce the cost of underclass welfare.

  It is not surprising that entitlements in the United States have come to trump other political issues, all things being equal. The same thing has happened in Europe, where parties of the Right must steadily assure voters that they stand behind entitlements. In France the right-wing populist Front National has moved from advocating free enterprise to being an impassioned defender of working-class pensions and other government benefits. In Austria the regionalist and formerly pro-free-market Freiheitliche Partei has traveled a similar path, less successfully. In 1995 the party lost seats in the Austrian parliament because it failed to move fast enough to express support for existing entitlements. While European parties of the Right have taken the popular side in favoring immigration restrictions, they have often done so for reasons that to many seem less then compelling. They have made cultural arguments for their stand on immigration, when the popular reasons for support are chiefly physical and economic. Voters fear non-European alien residents, who are or who are thought to be associated with rising crime rates. Those invulnerable work situations are concerned about foreigners taking their jobs, and national populations are becoming anxious about the entitlement net being stretched too far.

  Throughout this century but most noticeably in the last fifty years, this book argues, democratic practice has entailed less and less vigorous self-government, while becoming progressively dissociated from any specific cultural or ethnic heritage. Democratic citizenship
has come to mean eligibility for social services and welfare benefits. It also imposes varying degrees of loyalty to what Jürgen Habermas calls “constitutional patriotism”: the acceptance of legal procedures and of democratic socialization, presumably to be carried out by social experts. Liberalism has also lost any meaningful connection to what it once signified. By now it is hard to find in contemporary liberal thinking much of what it stood for at the beginning of the century, save for talk about expressive and “lifestyle” freedoms (freedoms that nineteenth-century liberals might have had trouble in any case recognizing as rights). Our own liberal statements are no longer centered on the merits of distributed powers, the need to protect traditional civil society from an encroaching state, or bourgeois moral standards.

  Today’s liberal democracies express and accommodate other political concerns, from the need for entitlements to the combating of prejudice and the privileging by courts of lifestyle rights and designated minorities. In Europe, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand, governments have performed these tasks even more energetically than in the United States. There public administrations control incomes more directly, tax more heavily, and, together with courts, impose criminal punishments on those whose speech or writing offends ethnic minorities. Though this form of “democratic” governing leaves little to popular consent, it has enjoyed continuing popular support: whence the vexing problem for traditionalist and populist opponents of the current welfare state. They simply cannot convince a majority of people that those who provide, however ineptly, for their material needs are the enemies of democratic self-rule or are interfering unduly in family life. If people care little about such matters and are devoted to the present centralized system of social services, traditionalist and old-fashioned liberal or democratic arguments will not win the day. In this respect the political debate may already be over, despite the echo of populist rumblings in Europe.

  This may be the case even if one agrees with the picture of overreaching government and moral decay depicted by an eminent Harvard professor of law, Mary Ann Glendon. Glendon is struck by how dependent most Americans are on “big business and government” and how thoroughly the two are now intertwined. Furthermore, she observes that “when regime-threatening questions come to mind, the oligarchs have authorized a modern form of bread and circuses, an array of new sexual freedoms to compensate for the loss of the most basic right of all, the right of self-government.”6 Glendon’s strictures about the “democratization of vice” and “tyranny by a minority” coincide with critical observations made in this book, with one notable difference. What she and like-minded moral traditionalists derisively call the “regime” is here treated as precisely that, a way of governing a particular society that in this case rests on periodically given consent. If, as Glendon maintains, Americans and other Westerners have gone from being “citizens to subjects,” they have done so in the absence of physical force. They have given away what they value less, the responsibility of self-government for themselves and their polity, in return for what they value more, sexual and expressive freedoms of a certain kind and the apparent guarantee of entitlements. It would not be stretching terms to call this a “democratic” choice, despite the resulting loss of what Glendon might consider as essential to human dignity.

  While Glendon may exaggerate (though not by much) the steady pursuit of control by managerial-judicial government, others have erred more grievously, by treating the present regime as a broker among interests or as the plaything of competing factions. This view of modern liberal democracy has found a wide range of exponents, from European Catholic conservatives Carl Schmitt and Thomas Molnar to social democrats Robert A. Dahl, Norberto Bobbio, and Theodore J. Lowi. A Norwegian political theorist, Sigmund Knag, sums up this view in a critical observation about present-day Western democracies:

  The danger to democracy is that the spirit of deal making dominates the entire sphere of government … to the extent that all groups receive consideration, even groups who care little about the rules needed to sustain society, even groups of spongers, wreckers and whiners. Every corporate objection is welcomed with a diplomatic smile and a show of goodwill; every angry protester is someone who must be appeased in the name of consensus by being tossed at least a tidbit. In the world of corporate pluralism, no rascal is ever thrown out on his ear.7

  If there is any idea that this book will vigorously dispute, it is the one expressed above. Knag presents the studiously cultivated image of welfare-state democracies and their administrative guardians as those trying to pursue the general good while being buffeted by special interests and by the demands of liberal pluralism. The most that can be said for this view is that it does contain a partial truth. Political parties must attract support and funding to stay afloat, and even administrative states need minimal consensus to prevent the turn of events that brought down the Soviet empire. Moreover, welfare-state democracies succeed to the extent that they provide for material needs, and inasmuch as different groups with different material interests will be required by such governments to maintain minimal consensus, it follows that elected leaders will try to satisfy enough interest blocs to stay in their positions.

  But this does not explain the ideological direction taken by what Knag refers to as the “political culture of corporate pluralism.” This direction, it will be argued, is determined by the regime itself, both by its interest in destroying the remnants of an earlier civil society resistant to its power and by an evolving project of social reconstruction. Though most Americans in nationwide polls favor restrictions on abortions beyond the first trimester, the federal government has charted its own course here, by guaranteeing a right to ninth-month (partial-birth) abortions. In the last two years, moreover, courts have stepped in to thwart the results of statewide referenda in California and Colorado dealing with immigration, governmentally-enforced minority quotas, and gay rights. In view of these and other related developments, it is no longer plausible to depict the American national government as first and foremost an earnest or bumbling balancer of interests. More likely, it is becoming the instrument of a political class marked by common access to power and a shared vision of change. Seizing opportunities to transform society, this class has used entitlements to gain leverage over citizens. But it also conceals its power and designs by presenting itself as perpetually caught between interest groups. Unlike the national monarchs in early modern Europe, today’s Western rulers hide rather than flaunt the power they exercise. This, however, does not render their power any less real, though it is not individuals but a class of “experts” who speak out against inequality and monopolize this rule.

  The first chapter of this book looks at the frenzied quest for a coherent liberal tradition in the context of managerial government and the rise of social engineering. Although pieces of an older liberalism have been tacked on to the self-image of the present regime, the continuity assumed is, for the most part, contrived. Those who assume it ignore a patricide, namely, the slaying of nineteenth-century liberalism by twentieth-century “liberal” social planners. This act was made possible, explain the first two chapters, by the advent of mass democracy: the bourgeoisie’s being overtaken by the lower classes and the ensuing “democratization” of government and social institutions. Unlike older republican traditions, twentieth-century Western democracy did not long remain within a fixed cultural or national context. It became the legitimation for public administration, seen as globally applicable, a form of rule that took over not only economic planning but also the task of socializing citizens. While public administrators, moreover, claimed to be pursuing “scientific” re-organization, their true goal was to combat bourgeois modernity, i.e., the political and moral culture that came out of the nineteenth-century Western world. But this goal of public administration, as chapter 2 indicates, was not apparent to most nineteenth-century liberal critics. What such critics feared were “democratic” social violence and the kind of political disorder associated with the French
Revolution.

  Chapter 3 sketches the evolution of public administration in a way that highlights its critical phases. Nineteenth-century liberals believed in the need for public servants and limited public education; nonetheless, they did not believe that administrators should work to change social classes or social values. They defended public administration as a means of maintaining order and of dealing with abject poverty. Administrators turned into social reformers with political power only after the welfare state came along in the present century. Then there occurred a quantitative leap in state control that eventually became qualitative. The state acquired control over education and began to formulate and apply family policy. Both were achieved in Sweden as early as in the twenties and came in other Western countries in the following four decades. As chapters 3 and 4 emphasize, these extensions of social planning were not deviations from what the welfare state intended to do. The reconstruction of group identity was an aim that social democratic reformers had embraced by the late-nineteenth century. By the mid-twentieth century, this project involved the use of social psychology and successive crusades against “prejudice.” However intrusive these policies have become, public administrators have enjoyed the unswerving support of journalists and intellectuals. They had been able to count on those in the verbal professions who share their goals of advancing “tolerance” and “sensitivity.”

  In chapter 5 consideration is given to recent challenges faced by the managerial state. Unpopular immigration policies, bureaucratic and judicial interference in communal practices, and the suppressing of dissent as “hate crimes” have all aroused opposition to the powers that be. This opposition has expressed itself typically in populist movements, of which the most electorally significant have arisen in Catholic societies. There strong family and other institutional ties have created particularly stubborn resistance to government-directed social policy and to insulated party politics. In the United States a similar oppositional movement is now evident, and during the presidential primaries in 1996 it became temporarily linked to the fortunes and utterances of Patrick J. Buchanan. In a dramatic but not entirely consistent fashion, Buchanan decried the federal administrative state as the enemy of family values and democratic controls. He identified that regime and its media backers with a radical rejection of Judeo-Christian morality and, to minimize arbitrary and unaccountable powers, called for the use of referenda and the placing of term limits on elected officials.