Thursday, 18 August 2011

Freedom of Thought - How Much Is That Then?




I've been reading some material recently on the issue of privatisation of education and decided to blog about it and share some links. The debate is not a new one by any means, but I've come across some new issues which I'd previously not heard of and thought I'd share them in the interest of spreading awareness.

Of course we know about the recent increase in UK tuition fees (£9,000, up from £3,000), and we know that some governmental support services for those from lower income backgrounds have been either decreased or entirely cut. Less well known is that governmental grants for the arts, humanities and social sciences have been entirely cut. This is not true for science, engineering, technology or mathematics however. The National Union of Students reported that at least 24 universities could therefore lose all their funding. This reflects a troubling utiliarian perspective which values institutions in so far as they produce graduates who will directly increase the national economy. Such a move also places a very low value on the arts and on culture more generally. Charlotte Higgins, writing in the Guardian, sums up this state of affairs by declaring that a "dark new philistinism" is now abroad.

As Alan Finlayson has written, the arts, humanities and social sciences "can best contribute to collective understanding of our social, economic and political situation" and "enable citizens to understand what is being done to them, why, and by whom. " As he goes on to say, in cutting funding to these subject areas the government is "seeking to weaken the fields that help people know who they are or what they might be; knowledge that is part of what everyone needs to question authority and become fully human in fast changing times."

And of course these subjects do contribute to industry, namely the "creative industries" as they are called. Paul Thompson, rector of the Royal College of Art, has warned that cutting funding to arts colleges will lead to a lack of supply of talent for the creative industries, and will also force talent abroad. Interestingly, he also talked about the way in which artists often collaborate with engineers and so prioritising the hard sciences over the arts and humanities would lead to less collaborations.

Barry Ife, principle of the Guildhall School of Music and Drama, has also pointed out that as many of the most talented artists come from the postgraduate population, increasing fees will deter more people from postgraduate study and therefore affect the supply of creative talent.

But the biggest and most interesting new development that emerged recently is that of the growth of private universities and colleges. The British philosopher A.C. Grayling has just announced a private for-profit undergraduate college called the New College of the Humanities (NCH), which will open in the autumn of 2012. The college will charge £18,000 per year in tuition fees and offer a liberal arts style education. However, although it is a private for-profit college, backed by private investors, it is in fact parasitic upon the public education sector. The University of London will be awarding the degrees and the NCH will be using their libraries and other facilities. Whilst Grayling and his supporters argue that the college represents a defence of the humanities (saving them from extinction since no one else will fund them), critics accuse Grayling of betraying his humanist values and of throwing in his lot with elitism and venture capitalism.

But whilst some critics, such as Terry Eagleton, accuse Grayling's college of being staffed by "a bunch of prima donnas jumping ship and creaming off the bright and loaded", Priyamvada Gopal argues more interestingly that Grayling's NCH is "at least partly a reflection of how we scholars in the humanities have made or failed to make history in institutional and political circumstances not of our own choosing." She argues that people working in the humanities are divided and have not found a way to resist against and fight back at the government's policies of cutting.

Gopal's article goes on to raise many well known but crucial issues concerning the humanities. One issue is that academics within the humanities have "played" the system too much, accepting the terms of the debate set by the government and the corporate sector. For example, they have too often accepted the idea that the humanities must show that it provides narrowly defined "transferable skills" with applications outside the field.

There is another issue at stake in the idea of private for-profit colleges like NCH. If Grayling is accepted as defending the humanities with this venture, then the question must arise: 'what will the humanities look like from the point of view of private colleges like NCH?' One look at the professor-shareholders who have signed up to NCH and you will see, in Gopal's words, "many of the world’s most renowned votaries of the superiority of Western civilisation, advocates of a narrow and parochial humanism defined as a Western possession, indeed in some cases, specifically, if implicitly, Anglo-Saxon and Protestant." This narrow representation of the humanities is hardly much of a defence of the best the humanities has to offer. It seems more of a return to elitism, class homogeneity, and intolerant rationalism, masked as liberal humanism.

In the face of all these attacks on public education, on the arts and humanities, and on the value of a liberal arts education, what can be done? There are a number of things that must be done. The arts and humanities must be defended as a social and public good in itself. We mustn't accept the terms of the debate from either the government or the corporate sector. There are other systems of value besides pecuniary ones and utiliarian/pragmatic ones. In part this means paying attention to language because it is instructive to notice how the government and the business sector talk. They talk of 'a global knowledge economy', of 'value-for-money education,' and of 'transferable skills.' Whilst this kind of language is arguably useful and appropriate in some areas of society, I don't believe it is appropriate when talking about the arts and humanities. Or, rather, the arts and humanities offer more than just transferable skills and enrich society in more ways than just the economic one. An education in the arts and humanities enriches one's life, helps one to become critical of the structures of society, allows one to appreciate beauty, creativity and other values which transcend the imperative to make profit, and at its best encourages free thought and independent inquiry.

Secondly, public education and the arts and humanities must be defended from within and from without. This means both public demonstrations and protests, and it means academics and intellectuals resisting pressure to conform to business practices and standing up for what they (should) do. The arts and humanities are often seen as either harmless or useless, and this must be shown to be false by engaging in independent and critical thinking. In times of crisis, when governments are lowering the living standard of the majority of people through austerity measures in order to save the banks, and when the rich are lining their pockets thanks to tax breaks, we need educated people more than ever and we need what the arts and humanities give us more than anything. We need the ability to critique existing power structures which will then lay the ground for emancipation. We need artists to both offer artistic portraits of the times and open our minds to new ways of looking at things. And we need intellectuals who can reinvigorate our sense of the past in order to create a different, and hopefully better, present and future.

There are many great articles and videos on this topic. I've posted some below. I hope they prove useful.


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Jane Hardy writing in the Socialist Review on Grayling's NCH: http://www.socialistreview.org.uk/article.php?articlenumber=11712

Noam Chomsky speaking about academic freedom and the corporatisation of universities: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q97tFyqHVLs&feature=feedlik

Here is the UCU's website: http://www.ucu.org.uk/stopprivatisation

Alan Finlayson's piece at OpenDemocracy.net: http://www.opendemocracy.net/ourkingdom/alan-finlayson/britain-greet-age-of-privatised-higher-education

Andy Worthington's article: http://www.andyworthington.co.uk/2010/11/22/did-you-miss-this-100-percent-funding-cuts-to-arts-humanities-and-social-sciences-courses-at-uk-universities/

Charlotte Higgins' piece in the Guardian: http://www.guardian.co.uk/culture/2010/nov/14/arts-funding-cuts-universities

A great myth-busting article in Red Pepper: http://www.redpepper.org.uk/higher-education-the-lie-busting-low-down/

An article on how the cuts affect art colleges and artists: http://www.guardian.co.uk/education/2010/nov/14/arts-cuts-education-designers-musicians-overseas

Priyamvada Gopal's article at New Left Project: http://www.newleftproject.org/index.php/site/article_comments/the_humanities_going_down_without_a_fight

Terry Eagleton's article for The Guardian: http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/2011/jun/06/ac-graylings-new-private-univerity-is-odious








Friday, 12 August 2011

Riots in the Big Society




Having read quite a lot about the recent riots in the UK, I thought I'd collect some of the better pieces that I've read and post links to them here. I won't add my own thoughts here though. This is just a post about what some others have said. I hope it will prove useful and interesting.

Firstly, here is a piece by Nina Power, writing in the Guardian:

She argues that those condemning the violence should step back and consider the larger picture: that of the rising social inequality, rampart individualism, massive unemployment, the intensification of consumerism based on personal debt, racism, police corruption, systematic crushing of unions and the criminalisation of dissent.

Next is a piece by Tom Fox, writing in Red Pepper:

Fox draws attention to the following: "police incompetence and arrogance, media complicity and callousness, the short-sightedness of the rioters, and the contempt politicians have had for the public over the past year that evidently continued this week." He goes on to say that "Looting and burning is not the virtue of the left, but instead of neo-liberalism, and we now have a grim mirror image of capitalism’s savaging of our society over the last three decades.
The rioters are a microcosm of the ethics that resulted from that savaging: self-indulgence, competition, and violence."




Also writing in Red Pepper, Emma Gallwey:

Among other things, she draws attention to social policies from both the current coalition government and the previous New Labour government. She also reminds readers of the Conservative ideology which sees the provision of welfare as both a fiscal burden and as creating a "welfare dependent, morally feckless, underclass of single mothers, young black men without fathers, delinquent hooligans, and long term unemployed." It is this moralism and paternalism which explains (in part) the Conservative agenda of using the debt crisis to push through austerity measures which sharply decrease the standards of living for most ordinary people and especially the poor. Gallwey is critical not just of the moralism of the Conservatives but also of the media and the conservative elements of the British public opinion. Moralism leads to speeches of condemnation and discussion about the failure of parenting whilst often ignoring the social causes of the riots.

For an article which concentrates mostly on the issue of race, see this article in Counter Punch by Hal Austin:

Austin draws parallels with the riots in 1980/81 and the Broadwater Farm uprising in 1985, and argues that lessons were not learned and that a number of people, including Diane Abbott, are dangerously peddling a revisionist account of these historical events. Austin also discusses the political impotence of the black community in the UK.

New Left Project have gathered some responses to the riots from groups on the left:

Helpfully, Alex Callinicos' statement from his facebook page is here for those of us not on facebook. Callinicos compares the riots to those of 1980s, and to those in LA in 1992. He makes a number of points: political alienation is greater now than thirty years ago, the looting reflects the increase in commodification of desires in the neo-liberal era, and we now see a greater co-existence of rich and poor in London which explains the acts of class hatred demonstrated for example by the scenes of broom-waving in Clapham and Ealing. Callinicos also recommends Chris Harman's analysis of the 1981 riots, arguing that such an analysis applies to the riots seen this past week. Here is the link to Harman's analysis of the 1980s riots: http://www.marxists.org/archive/harman/1981/xx/riots.html




The Socialist Workers Party has made this statement:

It focuses on a number of key points: police racism and brutality, the Tory attacks on welfare provision and social programs, the growing inequality in Britain (the country is now less equal than at any time since the 1930s: the combined fortunes of the 1,000 richest people in Britain rose £60 billion in 2011), and the failure of the Labour party to offer a proper alternative. They quote Martin Luther King: riots are an expression of anger, "the language of the unheard." The statement ends with a call to demonstrate, strike and protest, as a response to the state of despair which leads to riots.

Tariq Ali, writing in the LRB blog asks "Why here, why now?":

Ali sees one answer to such a question as the build up of grievances over a long period of time, then triggered by a particular event (in this case the police shooting of Mark Duggan). Ali blames the governments of the last three decades (for privileging the wealthy), along with the lacklustre state media and the Murdoch networks, and the business elite. Ali also complains about the lack of a political alternative to seriously challenge the neo-liberal structures which have increased social inequality over the last 30-40 years.

For a slightly different view of the riots, see this article in New Statesman by The Staggers:

Here it is argued that the riots are not a modern problem and that the explanation of most on the Left, that the riots are the result of contemporary social issues, is misleading. Instead, this article offers a historical look at rioting, arguing that riots have often occurred in Britain, in both urban and rural settings, and that the common thread uniting them all is economic pressure. It ends with a hopeful message that in today's Britain we have progressed beyond the usual response: sending in the army, making arrests, but not addressing the economic situation which leads to riots.

Lastly, David Harvey has just written an article on the riots in Counter Punch:

He begins by noting that the use of animal-terminology to describe the looters - the Daily Mail called them "nihilistic and feral teenagers" - was also used to describe the communards in Paris in 1871. The latter were referred to as wild animals, as hyenas, that deserved to be executed (which they were) in the name of the sanctity of private property, morality, religion, and the family. He then goes on to make the point that we live in a society where capitalism itself is feral:

"Feral politicians cheat on their expenses, feral bankers plunder the public purse for all its worth, CEOs, hedge fund operators and private equity geniuses loot the world of wealth, telephone and credit card companies load mysterious charges on everyone's bills, shopkeepers price gouge, and, at the drop of a hat swindlers and scam artists get to practice three-card monte right up into the highest echelons of the corporate and political world."

Harvey notes that what he is saying sounds shocking, that no politician would dare say it and that the press would only publish it to pour scorn on the sayer. But he believes that some people can see this is the case, particularly the people rioting. As for the rioting and looting, Harvey sees this as a more visible and blatant form of what is going on elsewhere. But he notes that sadly the rioters cannot see that it is capitalism which is feral and which should be put on trial. Nor could they demand it. But Harvey sees hope in the movements in Spain, Greece, and elsewhere. The difficult task is for more people to see feral global capitalism for what it is, and to ask the right questions in order to begin changing our societies.


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That's it for now. Please feel free to recommend other articles by posting links in the comments section below.

Thursday, 4 August 2011

The Price of Telling the Truth About Oneself

Drawing by Franz Kafka


It's been a long time since my last post so I thought I'd make an effort to get back to posting more often. Thankfully, I have just read a very stimulating book which I think is worth writing about. The book is a work of philosophy, which is helpful because so far I haven't posted much on this topic (despite it being in my blog title!)

The book in question is Giving an Account of Oneself by Judith Butler. Although Butler is known mostly for her work in gender studies, she has written on other topics including ethics, language, politics and many other philosophical topics. Whilst her style is dry, intellectual and abstract, she grapples expertly with complex and fascinating ideas, concepts and bodies of work, and has produced some impressive works over the last 20 years. Clearly, her notion of the performative character of gender has made a bigger influence on scholarship than anything else she has worked on, but from what I've read I think her other studies deserve more attention than they appear to receive.

In Giving an Account of Oneself, Butler takes up issues in moral philosophy but looks at them from the point of view of social relations. In other words, she looks at the social context in which moral issues arise. From here she moves her discussion quickly to the question of the individual self and how it gives an account of itself. This is important because giving an account of oneself is often what is at stake in moral issues or what often takes place within the moral sphere, for instance in being made accountable to a system of justice. As Butler explains, this is how Nietzsche understands the formation of conscience and memory, of how we become reflective about our actions and how we come to give an account of ourselves. What is important in this for Butler's discussion is the fact that the moral, reflective subject is brought in existence through an address from an other.

It is this issue, the formation of the (moral) subject through the need to be accountable, which is one of the key strands throughout the book. From here Butler looks at various kinds of issues which relate to this key strand: what form does an address take (both an address from an other and an address made to an other), in what context does an address take place, and how full an account can a subject give of itself. For example, although Butler is clearly sympathetic to much of Nietzsche's account, she asks whether fear is the only valence carried by the address of the other. Are there not other reasons and motivations to give an account of oneself besides fear of punishment?

Assuming one is, in one way or another, interpellated by an address from an other, Butler next turns to issues of narration. As she makes clear, being able to narrate one's life requires certain abilities such as being able to link sequential events with plausible transitions, being able to draw on narrative voice and authority, and directing one's account at an audience whom will be persuaded by such an account. Furthermore, these capacities (the capacity for narrative), are a precondition for an account of moral agency. Hence, there is a sense in which the self arrives late. The self is formed from forces and capacities which limit the self's freedom, and therefore it's ability to give an account of itself.

From this examination of the formation of the moral, reflective subject, Butler then examines various intellectual positions which differ in their understanding of this formation and the consequences for giving an account of oneself. For example, she contrasts Nietzsche's view of the formation of the moral subject with Foucault's account. The latter departs from Nietzsche by considering how subjects are constituted through codes of conduct which are not necessarily or always codes of punishment. Butler also shows how Foucault is different to Freud in this matter - the latter arguing that aggression is the basis of morality. Butler seems to prefer Foucault's account because it is less cynical and more subtle. For Foucault, the self forms itself in relation to codes, prescriptions and norms in a more dynamic and critical way. Hence, the self is not reduced to just an effect of those codes, prescriptions and norms.

From here we get to the nub of Butler's argument. Although the self has certain powers, capacities and a certain moral agency, nonetheless this self emerges in a context of unfreedom. The self is formed by conditions and forces it itself did not choose. This is a rather uncontroversial point when one thinks about the fact that we are forced to learn a language we ourselves did not invent or choose, as well as the fact that our whole environment was already up and running before we came along. Hence, it is intuitively clear that the subject emerges into an initial state of unfreedom. The question that has to be asked then is thus: how to we come to exercise freedom? Or rather, how to we acquire to capacity to exercise freedom?

This leads Butler to address a common complaint made against 'post-structuralists' such as Foucault: don't accounts like his undermine moral agency and responsibility? Butler takes up this question in a slightly different way. She wants to see whether a self that is ungrounded, divided and incoherent from the start can be ethically responsible. She does this by turning the issue around. Rather than seeing the limitations of self-knowledge as undermining the project of morality and ethics, she turns this into a virtue. It is because we are formed by primary social relations with others that there is something opaque about ourselves when we reflect on and try to give an account of ourselves. But because this opaqueness stems from a sociality, we are therefore bound to others in important (ethical) ways. Hence, Butler argues that an ethics which acknowledges and is based on this kind of social bond is more attentive to the other(s). For example, if we can acknowledge our own incoherence and opacity, then hopefully we can recognise this in others and hence treat more ethically. Butler thus sees a strength for ethics in acknowledging the limits of self-knowledge and acknowledging the limits of acknowledgement itself.

This is a very brief and partial outline of some of the book. I have largely concentrated on the first chapter of the book. In the other two chapters Butler considers many other issues and bodies of work, including two short stories by Kafka, psychoanalysis's contribution to the issue of self-knowledge and to the issue of otherness, and influential accounts of the self and its relation to the other/others such as those of Levinas, Laplanche and Foucault.

In short, Butler takes the notion of there being a kind of opacity to the self, a limit to self-knowledge, and hence self-narration, and theorises it using various philosophical, psychoanalytic, existential, and historical accounts. But more than this, Butler examines the ethical, moral and social consequences for this and comes out in defence of a highly sensitive ethical philosophy which is attuned to the otherness in oneself and so the otherness outside oneself also.

It is, in my opinion, a brilliant piece of work which will provoke and stimulate, and which deserves repeated reading of, meditation on, and discussion of. There are some great analyses of interesting thinkers and the comparisons make for a fascinating mix of ideas. For those people who are drawn to existential, moral and social questions, this is a worthwhile book to read. There can be few issues as momentous, as pressing, and as at once personal and social, as the issue of giving an account of oneself. However, there is also something terrifying about giving an account of oneself. At what price must we pay for (trying to give) such an account?

Sunday, 10 July 2011

Terrence Malick's The Tree of Life



I've just returned from watching Terrence Malick's latest film The Tree of Life and felt compelled to write about it in my blog. It is a truly extraordinary work of art and I recommend it to everyone. It is something very special and rare: a captivating film that combines the mundane with the philosophical, the emotional with the intellectual, and the beautiful with the thoughtful. It is a film about many things: memory, spirituality, existence, faith, growing up, family life, the beginning of the universe, and many other things besides. Although this will sound vague for those who haven't seen it, the film is truly about life in the broadest sense.




The film can be thought of as consisting of two parts: on the one hand there is a family drama, told mostly from a middle aged man's perspective as he looks back on his childhood. The sections of the film that focus on this are emotionally rich and the child-actors deserve special mention as they play their roles very convincingly. Brad Pitt's character, the father of the family, is a complex one. He is a strict, disciplinarian father who occasionally takes things too far. However, he is also loving, protective and takes an active role in shaping his children's lives. The mother, played by Jessica Chastain, is perhaps a less interesting character since she is mainly portrayed as embodying more positive aspects. She is graceful, gentle, hard-working and full of love. But we don't see much more from her. None the less, the role is well acted. As I said though, the main stars for me are the children, and in particular Hunter McCracken, who plays the young Jack (Sean Penn plays Jack as a middle-aged man). For me the most striking feature of his performance was his facial expressions. He often looks frustrated, angry and confused, and he portrays these qualities perfectly.

The second part of the film concerns the more philosophical and spiritual aspects, which are told through long sequences of images with either no dialogue or short monologues. Whilst there are some shorter sequences which interrupt the family drama portions, there is one very long sequence which some cinema viewers have apparently dubbed The Dawn of Time sequence. This sequence of images combines space photography, computer graphics of bacteria, footage of oceans and various sea creatures, and something which I'll leave as a surprise for you! This sequence reminded me of Stanley Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, and indeed the film itself has been liked to Kubrick's classic from 1968. The images in Malick's film are on a much grander scale though, and in fact I would venture that it is probably the boldest and most impressive piece of cinematography that I've ever seen. Malick has become known for his cinematography, and I recommend his earlier film Days of Heaven as a great example of beautiful cinematography.



I won't describe the film in any more detail as this post is really just about recommending the film to those who have yet to see it, and I don't want to spoil it. For the same reason, I will refrain from interpretations. However, perhaps at a later date, and after viewing the film at least one more time, I might offer some thoughts on the film. For now though, let me just say again that I think everyone should go and see this film in the cinema if they can. This is an epic and inspiring film, and must, if possible, be seen on the big screen. There were moments when the combination of extraordinary images with powerful music made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. In fact, it's been many years since I've felt such electricity in the cinema. I hope you will all get a chance to see this film. I'm sure it will be an unforgettable experience.

Wednesday, 6 July 2011

David Harvey lecture on Emancipation


I just watched a recent talk that David Harvey gave at the Subversive Film Festival in Croatia on the 19th May 2011. He was one of many speakers at the event, though I haven't listened to the other speakers yet. His talk was entitled "Emancipation from What and from Whom?" In the course of this lecture, Harvey talked about the urban roots of the current financial crisis and of many other crises throughout the 20th century, the rise of the neo-liberal project, issues of urbanisation, and finally the project which he thinks the Left today should engage in. As always, Harvey presents his ideas clearly and passionately, and it was a very worthwhile talk to listen to.

For those of you who are not familiar with his work, David Harvey is the Distinguished Professor of Geography and Anthropology at the Graduate Centre of The City University of New York (CUNY). He is a leading social theorist, and his work fuses his training in geography with his expert knowledge of Marxism. Combining the two, he has written extensively about the relationship between urbanisation and capitalism, the geographical flows of capital, and the way social justice relates to questions of lived space. Harvey has been credited with bringing back Marxist methods as useful tools for diagnosing and critiquing global capitalism, and particularly neo-liberalism.

In the lecture I just watched Harvey talks about most of these very issues. One of the most interesting things that Harvey talks about in the lecture, however, is what he considers to be the two main responses to the financial crisis we are currently in. On the one hand, he says, there is the response of countries like China. These countries pour enormous amounts of money into development projects (debt-financed of course, though China can draw on huge surpluses from foreign investment) in order to stimulate their economy. Whilst there are many important social and ethical issues involved in the case of China, nonetheless they have massively improved their unemployment levels (Harvey reports that unemployment has been cut from around 20 million in 2008 to around 3 million today).

On the other hand, countries like the U.S., the U.K., and Greece represent a different response to the crisis: namely, austerity measures. Harvey looks at this response as a (not-so) covert political project, that of cutting back on social institutions in order to let business gain more control (justified by the enormous debt and the notion that we cannot let the financial institutions fail). This can be seen as part of a trend over the last 30-40 years, that of the rise to power of neo-liberal economics. Harvey sees neo-liberalism as a class project: the aim of the neo-liberals and their supporters was and is to fight back against the labour struggles that have taken place more and more since the second World War. With the rise of the welfare state, and because of many forms of popular struggle and protest, capital has, in Harvey's terms, been made to bear the cost of what economists refer to as 'externalities'. If the main purpose of capital is to reproduce itself and grow, then anything which is a barrier to this will be (hopefully) externalised. For example, if a factory pollutes the environment then this is seen from the capitalist's point of view as an externality: it is someone else's problem. Their concern is with generating more surplus value.

Harvey identifies two main externalities: the environment and the reproduction of social life. The environment and the quality of daily life are seen as external issues from the point of view of capital. Therefore, the labour struggles and social movements that have taken place over the last 200 years have been a way of trying to force capital to bear those costs - to internalise them. But as Harvey points out, the 1970s saw a backlash from the capitalist class, especially under the guise of neo-liberalism. One of the responses was to move labour to a place where labour rights were not established and where social pressure would be minimal. Hence the rise of out-sourced labour or 'sweatshop' factories. Conversely, another response is not to move labour production abroad but to change the workforce. Immigrant labour, and especially illegal immigrant labour, has the advantage (for the capitalist) of severely lacking in labour rights. There can be no worker's union for illegal immigrant workers, and therefore no pressure can be put on capital to internalise the costs of the reproduction of daily life, let alone the harm caused to the environment.

The government can also play a role in helping the capitalist, as governments like the Reagan and Thatcher administrations did. Firstly, if you place a complete idiot at the head of a public institution then you can effectively force that institution to crumble and lose favour with the public by denouncing it as inefficient, incompetent and so on. Secondly, the government can de-fund institutions, thereby disempowering them without scrapping them. They still exist, but they have no money to do anything, or so little money they are not effective.

Harvey goes on to point out that Reagan created huge deficit problems in the U.S., largely through two ways: firstly, by cutting the top tax rate from 72 per cent to 32 per cent, and secondly by escalating the arms race with the Soviet Union (his administration poured large sums of money into the 'Star Wars' project of building laser weapons in space in order to shoot down enemy missiles - the project was a complete failure). Interestingly, Harvey continues, Reagan's budget director made a controversial statement during Reagan's second term as president. He stated that the aim all along was to run up the debt so drastically that they could go after all those annoying social institutions which put pressure on capital.

Fast-forward to Bush Jr.'s government and we see a similar problem: the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq cost around a trillion dollars. Yet when anyone questioned Cheney, he would reply that everything is fine because Reagan taught us that debt isn't a problem. However, today's Republican party cites the debt as reason to put more austerity measures into practice. And this does not just apply to the U.S. In the U.K. David Cameron's coalition government is doing more or less the same thing: bail out the financial institutions, creating a sovereign debt crisis, and then reduce the living standard of the population in order to pay back some of that debt. Of course, as Harvey points out, people often make the argument that taxing the rich leads to societies of low growth. Yet, he argues that when you look at the figures this is simply not the case. The top tax rate in the U.S. was 92 per cent back in the 1950s, and was cut by Reagan from 72 per cent to 32 per cent in the 1980s as already stated. Over this period the U.S. enjoyed growth and expansion. Since Reagan the U.S. has been transformed from the biggest creditor to one of the biggest debtors. Since at least as far back as 2007, the U.S. was borrowing an average of around $3 billion per day!

Returning to Harvey's main point, what is important to focus on is that this whole issue of the financial crisis highlights the problems internal to capitalism. It is not a freak accident that there are crises in capitalist societies. As Harvey points out, particularly in his last book The Enigma of Capital, crises are a necessary part of how capitalism works. They highlight the internal contradictions of capitalism, and expose the harsh inequalities in society and around the globe. Those governments who use the debt as a way to justify austerity are almost undoubtedly taking advantage of the situation in order to give more power to the rich minority at the expense of the poor majority. It is for this reason that one can learn a lot from how crises arise and how they are responded to by governments.

As Harvey concludes, the hard task faced by the Left today is to find new ways and principles of organisation. Harvey's own response is to concentrate on the urban site of struggle. This means organising people in order to think about, discuss, and find ways of changing the city after our own heart's desire, and not after the developer's (Harvey often points out the way Manhattan is being transformed into an enclave for the super-rich. He also speaks frequently about the Right to the City movement which is trying to fight back). Harvey concentrates on the city largely because of his view that the city is one of the best places for both investment and development. As he has shown, both Haussmann in Second Empire Paris, and Robert Moses in post-WWII New York, demonstrated the potential of cities as ways of disposing of too much capital. Cities are the sites of huge investment and development, and they reveal on a large scale the social inequalities of society. Therefore, in remaking the city we can remake society and ourselves. The question is: who do we want to be? Depending on how the city is remade, we may remake ourselves for the better, or for the worse.

Harvey believes that with proper self-organising, the people can remake the city into a space that is more socially just. This means transforming the city from a space that developers appropriate and remake for the rich, into a space for all, a space democratically run and accountable. But this is not going to be easy, as he himself admits. The hope is there though: hope that we will come together to discuss and find ways of remaking the city in order to make society more just, more inclined towards helping the weak, the elderly and less able.

For those of you who haven't heard David Harvey speak, I recommend you to start here. This is a fantastic lecture, which covers many of the topics and themes prominent in his work, and which ends with a question and answer session in which Harvey talks about concrete struggles such as his own in Baltimore. Links are provided below. Thanks for reading!


David Harvey lecture Part 1:

Part 2: