A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY
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INTERNATIONAL JOURNAL OF ORGANIZATION THEORY AND BEHAVIOR, 14 (4), 514-536 WINTER 2011 A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY Mark J. Kaswan* ABSTRACT. “Democracy” can be defined in different ways, each of which offers a different way of looking at the relationship between democracy and governance. Mark Bevir’s (2010) Democratic Governance offers a genealogical account of the development of this relationship from the late 19th century, focusing on the role of particular theories of social science, and raising serious questions about the degree to which contemporary practices conflict with democratic ideals. Bevir suggests a more radical, participatory approach as a way of resolving this conflict. Here I extend his genealogical account to include two thinkers, Jeremy Bentham and William Thompson, who laid much of the groundwork for modern social science, but with very different ideas about democracy. Extending the genealogy to Bentham and Thompson opens the way for a consideration of some aspects of the relationship between democracy and governance not included in Bevir’s account, and raises questions as to whether the different models of democracy can be integrated in the way he suggests. INTRODUCTION Mark Bevir has provided a valuable exploration of the nature of governance in democratic states in his recent work, Democratic Governance. What I want to do in this essay is draw some closer attention to the “democracy” part of his topic, particularly with respect to the significance of different conceptions of democracy that appear in his work. In doing so I will also extend his genealogy of social science, which at the beginning of the 19th century was not only more expressly normative but also centrally concerned with the nature and meaning of democracy. -------------------------------- * Mark J. Kaswan, Ph.D. is an Assistant Professor, Department of Government, University of Texas at Brownsville. His primary research areas are in political theory, including democratic theory, utilitarianism, and the history of political thought. Copyright © 2011 by Pracademics Press
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 515 Bevir writes in his conclusion that his book has “explored the nature of the new governance and its implications for democracy,” noting, in particular, that “the new governance poses dilemmas for representative democracy.” He discusses ways in which, in his view, a different model of social science may point toward “a more participatory and dialogic response” to these dilemmas (p. 252). In this way, Bevir seems to be attempting to bridge two very different models of democracy—the mainstream representative model and a radical participatory and deliberative model. What does not come across in his discussion, however, is that these two models are, in fact, based on very different conceptions of democracy. The question I want to raise in this essay, then, has to do with whether these ideas about the nature of democracy, its role in government and the relationship between government and the broader society, make Bevir’s a kind of “bridge to nowhere”—in other words, I ask whether the two models can be reconciled. The idea that there are different ways of conceptualizing democracy is nothing new. It is no accident that Gallie included democracy in his essay introducing the notion of “essentially contested concepts,” specifically drawing a distinction between representative democracy, or “the power of the majority of citizens to choose (and remove) governments” and a participatory form involving “primarily the continuous active participation of citizens in political life at all levels” (Gallie, 1955-1956, pp. 184-185). What they have in common is that both are forms of collective self-government, where rights of participation ensure that the actions of the collective are at least vaguely an expression of individual preferences, or, in other words, that collective decisions are at least in some sense the enactment of the collective self-government of the individuals who are members of the collective. In both cases, democratic governance can be understood as the mechanism by which individuals are made subject to the collective will. Ideally, the will of the individual members of a society will be, in at least a general sense, in accordance with the general will. However, while this may, at least to some degree, pertain to the majority, it cannot be expected with regard to the minority. A tension, or aporia, then arises in democratic governance in the gap between individual self-government and collective self- government, particularly where the collective engages in what, after
516 KASWAN Foucault, we might call its disciplinary function. A second tension is associated with the idea that all members within a democratic system are equal, at least formally. Bevir (2010, p. 29) defines governance as, “any pattern of rule or coordinated order.” However, there would appear to be a substantial difference between these two points. The degree to which any system of governance leans toward a “pattern of rule” rather than “coordinated order” is the degree to which it establishes authority, or in other words creates a distinction within the society between those who make and enforce rules, and those who are subject to those rules (even if those who make and enforce the rules are also subject to them, they are still clearly in a privileged position with regard to the rules). To put these two tensions together, only in the democratic ideal of self-governing citizens interacting with one another on the basis of a strong principle of equality would the tension inherent in democratic governance be resolved. To be sure, Bevir does not address either of these tensions directly, although there is a passing reference to the “tension between governance and democracy” (p. 104). Indeed, democracy doesn’t receive all that much direct attention in his book; rather, its primary focus is a genealogical account of the “New Governance.” This is not to say that democracy is ignored, as the ways in which the new governance interacts with assumptions about democracy in the social sciences is certainly discussed at length, and Bevir can be said to be opening up a space with this book for understanding how a different approach to social science could help support movement toward a more democratic form of governance. But even here, I think Bevir’s democratic theory is insufficiently developed, as he focuses, particularly in the last chapter, on the interaction between interpretive social science and democracy without offering a clear enough sense of just what democracy is and what it requires. My exploration of democratic theory here will take place through an extension of Bevir’s genealogy, reaching a bit further back in the history of social science to include two figures important to the history of its development, Jeremy Bentham and William Thompson. Bentham’s and Thompson’s ideas are closely related to one another, yet their views of democracy are substantially different.1 The differences between Bentham and Thompson go a long way to making clear the differences between the two versions of democracy, one of which might be called mainstream, representative or liberal
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 517 democracy, and radical democracy. Bentham, in particular, lays the foundations for understanding the relationship between the public, elected officials and public officials in a liberal democratic regime. Thompson, for his sake, largely avoids any discussion of the state or formal state institutions, placing democratic practices instead in the context of social institutions in a way that goes quite a bit further than Bevir in resolving the tension between individual self-government and collective self-government, and that raises larger questions that Bevir avoids about the structure of the larger social system within which governance takes place. DEMOCRACY IN “DEMOCRATIC GOVERNANCE” Bevir (2010, 126) distinguishes between the different models of democracy as follows: A liberal representative concept of democracy aims to protect citizens from the state, and to make sure that the state pursues policies in the interests of its citizens. . . . A participatory and pluralist concept of democracy [which is identified as radical democracy earlier in the text (p. 116)] aims more at self-rule and emancipation. Citizens should have as much control as possible over their own daily lives. In the book, the liberal representative notion receives the bulk of the attention, as it should: After all, this is the model that predominates in Britain and the other cases Bevir studies. As he effectively establishes, public policy today, whether from the right (neoliberal, rational choice-based) or from the left (quasi-socialist and with a basis in institutionalism), presumes the representative model. The model’s general outline starts with the electoral system by which citizens elect legislative representatives who set budgets and determine policy which get passed down to public officials who are responsible for their implementation.2 The public officials are held accountable by the elected representatives, who are accountable to the citizenry. The gist of Bevir’s argument is that this model is untenable in the new models of governance that evolved in the latter half of the 20th century. While this approach may have worked to a degree under conditions where the provision of public services was carried out by large centralized bureaucracies that functioned in a strictly top-down, command-and-control manner, the provision of
518 KASWAN services has become extremely diffuse. As a result of this diffusion, the state can do little more than seek to regulate service providers to ensure adherence to minimal standards of performance (the central concern for the neoliberal, market-based model), or provide facilitation and coordination to ensure that services are provided in a timely and effective fashion by diverse networks of providers (in the institutionalist model). Both of these models presume that the source for policy directives comes only indirectly from the people through the representative body in the legislature, and the people’s role in setting policy is largely limited to their participation in the electoral process or, at most and only in rare cases, in making demands to the legislature. Bevir (2010, p. 116) describes the alternative as “plural, participatory, and bottoms-up,” associated with “traditions of radical democratic theory.” One crucial difference between the radical and the representative models is that, where the primary values of the latter center around questions of efficiency, “proponents of more pluralist and participatory styles of democratic governance justify their position in more normative, ethical terms, [arguing] that greater pluralism and participation will promote inclusion, empowerment, social justice, liberty, and equality.” This model is described as, in part, a reaction to the failure of collective action to bring about social justice from within the representative system. The radical model does not receive as much attention in the book because, at least with respect to the state, it exists mostly in theory. In fact, Bevir’s book can be understood in part as an effort to show exactly why it is that the new governance, despite its rhetoric of “devolution” and “networks,” remains far from the kinds of participatory models envisioned by radical democracy theorists. In an earlier essay Bevir says more directly, “Networks, participation, and inclusion are promoted as means to these specific ends [making public policies more effective and more legitimate], not as part of a radical democratic project” (Bevir, 2006, p. 427). With his attention to methodologies of social science and its relation to models of governance, Bevir can be said to be primarily concerned with the technologies of governance. His story begins with what he calls the “Rise of Modernism,” which developed out of a “diverse and evolving stream of comparative-historical scholarship that had emerged in the mid-nineteenth century.” This is associated,
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 519 in particular, with an “evolutionary positivism associated with Auguste Comte and Herbert Spencer” that by the end of the century had morphed into a kind of “neopositivism” that, he says, “would come to exert a major influence on modern social science, especially in the United States” (2010, p. 18). If this is the history Bevir concentrates on, then Bentham and Thompson constitute a kind of pre-history that laid the foundations upon which positivism was built. By extending the genealogy further back, I hope to show that the difference between mainstream and radical democracy is much greater than merely a difference in approach or the relationship between policy-makers, experts and citizens, but that these are fundamentally different ways of understanding the function of democracy and its role in society. The profound differences between these two ways of thinking about democracy—including fundamental questions about the organization of society—raise serious concerns with what might be considered Bevir’s political project. BENTHAM AND TRADITIONAL DEMOCRATIC GOVERNANCE Bentham’s Elite Theory of Government Jeremy Bentham is best known for his utilitarianism, or the promotion of the “greatest happiness of the greatest number” as the foundation for moral and political reasoning. The primary means through which he felt this goal could be reached were economics and law. His approach to governance, then, can be understood as instrumental, as a way to promote the greatest happiness of the greatest number. Although he came to be an enthusiastic supporter, Bentham should not properly be considered a theorist of democracy. Rather, he offered a theory of government, and only arrived at representative democracy toward the middle of his career as the surest means by which to ensure that government conducts itself for the benefit of the people. Bentham’s is an elite theory of politics, and his principal concern is always the means by which those members of society who function as rulers could be prevented from merely ruling in their own interest. Ultimately, his answer to this is something he calls “official aptitude” on the part of public officials, which includes the lack of motivation to pursue one’s own interest over that of the general public (“moral
520 KASWAN aptitude”); the knowledge and judgment necessary to recognize the common interest (“intellectual aptitude”); and the conscientious performance of their duty (“active aptitude”) (Bentham, 1993; Schofield, 2006, p. 274).3 Bentham came to the conclusion that representative democracy was the best means by which to develop moral aptitude. Intellectual aptitude clearly points to the kinds of specialized knowledge and expertise associated with the rise of the social sciences in the 19th and 20th centuries. And active aptitude can be associated with the professionalization and formalization of governance institutions, although requiring that officials stand for election would also be a means for ensuring that they do their jobs. The early phase of Bentham’s career was focused on legislative reform, and little concerned with constitutional arrangements, as Bentham assumed that there was no need for radical reform in Britain (Burns, 1966, p. 98; Dinwiddy, 1975, p. 683). However, as he found that what he considered to be perfectly rational proposals for reform of the legal system were largely ignored (particularly the debacle over his Panopticon prison scheme), and as he became increasingly aware of elements of corruption in the legal system (Bentham, 1843b), he came to understand the functions of the system in terms of what he called “sinister interest,” which refers to the tendency of groups of people to seek to further the interests of the group in a way that is contrary to the public interest (Schofield, 2006, p. 125). In effect, this means that the actions of political elites will tend to serve their own interests, which may or may not include the interests of those on whom they depend for their power (i.e., the electors). In a system with a highly restricted franchise, this is clearly a problem, because rulers are more concerned with furthering their own, rather than the public, interest. Thus Bentham turned his focus to constitutional reform, and forcefully at that. Effectively, he came to see that in order to ensure that the legislators acted so as to promote the greatest happiness of the greatest number, it was necessary that the “greatest number” have a means by which they can hold the legislators accountable—in other words, universal suffrage.4 This meant quite radical reform, ultimately manifested in his Radical Reform Bill of 1817. However, the reference to “radical” reform here should not lead us to think that this has anything to do with radical democracy as Bevir understands it—for example, Bentham’s radical reform made little room for the kind of public participation that is crucial for Bevir (e.g., p. 116). Rather, much of Bentham’s proposed
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 521 reforms are now baseline requirements for any system to be considered democratic: “Secresy [of the ballot], universality [of suffrage], equality [of the vote], and annuality of suffrage [one-year terms of office]” (Bentham, 1843c, p. 558).5 From this account it is evident that representative democracy, in Bentham’s theory, is really only instrumental to good government. Indeed, democracy is several steps removed from the ultimate object, the greatest happiness: The greatest happiness requires good laws. Good laws require official aptitude, or effective legislators who are concerned with ensuring the greatest happiness. Only then do we arrive at representative democracy, as the means by which legislators can be expected to retain the greatest happiness in its proper position of preeminence. Note that, although he argues for popular sovereignty, Bentham’s remains a system of elite rule. As Rosen puts it, “A major thesis underlying his argument is that all rulers, however they are chosen, form a class apart by virtue of their wealth and political power and are potentially at odds with the people whose happiness they are supposed to secure” (Rosen, 1983, p. 12).6 Nonetheless, in Bentham’s theory, the people retain sovereignty at the head of a chain of subordination: the legislature is subordinate to the people, and the executive is subordinate to the legislature (the judiciary, in his view, is a branch of the executive). The people’s exercise of their sovereign rights, however, should largely be limited to the act of electing or recalling legislators (Bentham, 1983, p. 25–6); other than this, their only recourse would be to what he calls the “Public Opinion Tribunal,” or the court of public opinion (Bentham, 1983, p. 35–6), which has no formal role. The legislature exercises sovereign power through the instruments of rule. The people hold their legislators to account through frequent elections. It would be wrong, in this regard, to consider the acts of the legislature to be an expression of the will of the people. Rather, the legislature’s actions are based on their judgment as to the people’s interests. The public opinion tribunal and periodic elections constitute the means by which the people can discipline legislators; by these same means legislators can determine whether their judgments are correct. So, in a way, what is called “democracy” here has little to do with self-rule, as it remains a system of elite rule held accountable by the people.
522 KASWAN Extending Bevir’s genealogy to include Bentham, then, reveals much about the ideology that underlies modernist social science, and the premises of representative democracy and neoliberal governance. While Bentham has plenty to say about the development of the necessary capacities of leaders in the guise of “official aptitude,” he says nothing at all about the necessary capacity of those who elect them. Further, while Bentham makes it clear that he thinks people pursue their self-interest, he also says that no one can know a person’s interest so well as they do themselves (Bentham, 1931/1802, p. 63). But legislating isn’t about pursuing any one individual’s interests, rather it is about pursuing the interests of the entire community, understood as a collection of individual interests.7 To put this in the context of Bevir’s work, the role of the legislator is to determine the best way to properly “steer” the provision of social services. But what the Benthamite perspective adds is that this steering is necessarily a top-down process. Legislators rightly may view participation by the public with skepticism, not because of their lack of expertise, but because the public is apt to be overly concerned with their own private, or individual, interests rather than the interests of the community. In other words, Bentham’s “sinister interest” translates into what today is referred to as “special interests”—or call it “local expertise” if you prefer, the effect is the same. The Benthamist response is clear: Rather than allowing the well of public policy to be poisoned by sinister interest, rely on outside, objective, rational experts to decide what individual members of the public cannot discern for themselves. The means by which this is implemented—whether through centralized bureaucracy, marketiza- tion or networks—is largely irrelevant, as these can best be understood as particular sorts of vehicles for carrying out the policy, and, like the policy itself, the choice of the vehicle is best left up to the experts. Suffice to say that social scientists who analyze the delivery of services are just the sort of experts one would seek out for this sort of input or decision-making. This may include advocates of participatory models. I dare say that some might be inclined to consult Mark Bevir. Participation and Policy-Making This discussion of the role of experts points to something largely missing in Bevir’s book: A consideration of the distinction between policy formation and policy implementation.8 The lack of a clear
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 523 distinction between these means that Bevir can’t show how they are related to one another, although this relationship is an important element of the book. The question here has to do with the locus of particular kinds of practices, which are significantly different in the two domains. For example, the application of the rational actor model in rational choice theory pertains to policy formation in a very different way from how it pertains to implementation: In policy formation it takes the form of assumptions about the role of the state in addressing social problems, whereas in policy implementation it leads to particular kinds of mechanisms by which the state engages in fulfilling its role. There is, of course, significant overlap between these. In particular, assumptions about the appropriate means for implementing policies will affect decision-making about the nature of those policies (for example, in the 2009 debate over health care policy in the U.S.). More often, however, debates about policy occur separately from debates about policy implementation, and participatory practices may look different in each of these areas. I offer two examples of participation that Bevir overlooks, that may help to illustrate this difference. Budgeting is often the primary vehicle through which public policy is adopted. Although the budget may generally be a fairly blunt instrument for the making of policy (as rulers throughout history have often found to their dismay—e.g., Charles I), it can also be an important avenue for the expansion of opportunities for greater public participation. The best example of this is the “participatory budget” process most effectively implemented in Porto Alegre, Brazil (Abers, 2000; for an update, see Hilmer, 2010). In fact, the Porto Alegre case demonstrates both the benefits of participatory practices and some of the dangers, as those who have superior resources have been able to take greater advantage of the system than those without (this point will arise again below). However, once a budget has been adopted, there is no particular reason why the services it entails must be implemented in one way or another, and may entail contracting-out, joined-up governance, public participation or a combination of all three. In other words, participatory models of policy implementation are not implicit in participatory models of policy making. In contrast to budgeting, for which Porto Alegre is an exception to the normal case, extensive opportunities exist in the U.S. for public input in both policy-making and policy-implementation processes in
524 KASWAN the form of mandated public comment periods and public hearings. While these may often involve arcane procedures that require substantial expertise, and while the role of experts is often given greater weight than that of the general public, elements of the process are specifically designed to ensure public access and response. However, the procedures for making comments, and the parties holding the hearings, may be quite different, depending on the stage of the policy process. Whereas the role of the public in the policy-making process is never more than advisory, in the policy implementation process, public participation has a bit more of a formal role. For example, in California, at least (and possibly in other states), large-scale development projects must go through an approval process that requires the filing of an Environmental Impact Statement (EIS) to fulfill requirements of the National Environmental Policy Act (NEPA) as well as an Environmental Impact Report (EIR) to fulfill requirements of the California Environmental Quality Act (CEQA). Both of these require public comment periods as well as public hearings, and the agency or other responsible party must respond to each and every comment that is made. The requirement is not trivial, and in fact these public hearings commonly provide opportunities for grassroots organizing and are an important avenue for participation in the policy-making process. Failure to adequately respond to public comments can result in litigation that can hold up projects for years, and ultimately lead either to substantial changes or cancellation.9 However, while it has at least some of the markings of open participation, on both sides of the policy process, public hearings can also be seen as little more than a participatory veneer for powerful actors who can merely use the public’s input as a way of deflecting public concerns rather than really addressing their substance. The fact that litigation can take years and be extremely expensive may only serve to benefit more powerful interests. The fact that not all members of the public can be said to have equal access to the courts points to an issue that Bevir doesn’t address, to be discussed below, having to do with the problem of social inequality with respect to participation. The existence of participatory budgeting practices and public hearings suggests ways in which governance may already be more participatory than Bevir allows. Still, however, and despite all the challenges to the Westminster model that Bevir outlines in his book,
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 525 it is all very state-centric. Institutions based on a model of representative democracy that Bentham would easily recognize remain the dominant paradigm through which decisions regarding the public sphere are made. Indeed, in many ways these participatory opportunities generally only further reify the distinction between the public and private spheres that theorists of radical democracy often challenge. Establishing a more participatory framework for governance that incorporates the kind of bottoms-up approach Bevir advocates requires a different approach to democracy altogether, the kind which is evident in William Thompson’s work. THOMPSON AND RADICAL DEMOCRACY Thompson’s approach to the nature of democracy and questions of governance is radically different from Bentham’s. Indeed, given the differences between their theories, it is remarkable that Bentham referred to Thompson as a “disciple” (Bentham, 1989, p. 360), and that Thompson acknowledged Bentham’s influence in his first major work (Thompson, 1968/1824, p. 1). But if Bentham would be placed today solidly within the mainstream of modern democratic theory, Thompson may be viewed as having articulated one of the earliest versions of the kind of radical democratic theory Bevir is interested in advancing. One of Bevir’s central points is that one’s approach to social science affects their approach to questions of governance and democracy. This is certainly the case with Thompson, whose role in the development of social science is as important as it is overlooked.10 Poets, including Milton, had used the term “social science” as far back as the 17th century, but the term did not gain traction until the 1820s. In a brief 1821 essay (which may be a translation of an earlier work in French), Sismondi referred to social science as “that theory of universal accommodation, [which] embraces all that human society can effect for the general advantage and the moral development of man” (Sismondi, 1821, p. 509).11 Thompson, who likely knew both Sismondi and Charles Fourier, another French writer who made use of the term, refers to “the application” of “social science [as] the art of social happiness” (Thompson, 1968/1824, p. viii). The pursuit of a social science, he says, is necessary, “to assist in wiping out the stain from science, noticed thirty years ago by
526 KASWAN Condorcet, but still adhering, that though she had done much for the glory of mankind, she had done nothing or little for their happiness” (Thompson, 1968/1824, p. xiv). From this work, the Inquiry into the Principles for the Distribution of Wealth Most Conducive to Human Happiness (published in 1824), it is apparent what he meant by the term: The critical examination of the organization of society in order to ascertain the barriers to individual happiness and to identify the best means by which social institutions may be organized so as to ensure it. In other words, social science, in Thompson’s usage, clearly had a strong normative basis. It is worth asking whether the social sciences today have retained anything like the normative basis expressed by Sismondi and Thompson. It is a common point of critique of rational choice theory that its supposed lack of ideology or normative claims masks a very solid and substantial ideology and normative basis, so there is no need to repeat that critique here. What I want to suggest, however, is that the nature of the question has changed. Thompson was no less a believer in rationality—understood as the tendency of individuals to seek to maximize pleasure (or benefit) and avoid or minimize pain (or expense)—as was Bentham, although he understood it on somewhat different terms than Bentham.12 The question, for Thompson, was how to design social institutions in order to best align this rational self-interest with the social interest, so as to produce the best outcome for everyone involved. Social science today, particularly the rational choice variety, seems to have lost the critical element that was so central to Thompson. As Bevir clearly expresses, social institutions are reified, presumed to be just and proper in their essence if not always in their functioning. But note that this is not a critique of the rational assumption, weak though that assumption may be (see Bevir, 2010, p. 259–60); rather it is a critique of its application. Thompson’s approach to social science can be described, in Bevir’s terms, as institutionalist (although the usage is clearly anachronistic). He can certainly be counted as a founding member of both the rational choice and the sociological schools, as Bevir defines these: At one and the same time, Thompson is concerned with “the effects of norms, laws, and institutions on individuals’ actions,” as Bevir defines the rational choice school (2010, p. 47), and in the ways institutions “shape actors’ perceptions of their interests,” as
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 527 Bevir defines the sociological school (p. 47). But rather than concerning himself with the formal institutions of the state (although he does not ignore them entirely), Thompson is much more concerned with the effect of a particular institution outside of the realm of the state: the capitalist economy. While Bevir acknowledges that “governance expresses a growing awareness of the ways in which diffuse forms of power and authority can secure order even in the absence of state activity,” (p. 29, fn. 15), the question of governance outside of state institutions receives virtually no attention in his book, with the exception of those non- state institutions that are engaged in the implementation of public policy within the framework of networks or market-based social enterprises. Thompson offers two clear arguments as to why this issue is pertinent, incorporating elements now familiar to institutionalists and democratic theorists. The first is that structuring social institutions on the basis of competition for scarce resources (either customers or wages), as in the liberal capitalist system, “makes us regard from birth the interests of every one as opposed to and incompatible with the interest of every other person because it really puts all interest in opposition to each other. In every happy face, we now see a successful rival” (Thompson, 1996/1827, p. 65). This competition sets the terms on which governance takes place. This might not present a problem in terms of democratic governance if all members of the society partook in this social coordination (to use Bevir’s language) on an equal basis. However, Thompson argues, because the object of competition is the accumulation of wealth, inequality is inevitable (even if all members of society started from an equal position). For the winners in the competition, domination of the political system becomes not only a part of the spoils of success, but a necessary pursuit as a means of maintaining dominance (Thompson 1968/1824, p. 218–21). The inequality engendered by competition, which is no less a factor today than in Thompson’s time, presents a problem for the kind of participatory, deliberative procedures Bevir favors, because it means that not everyone at the table is there on an equal basis, and some people are fairly well excluded altogether. This perspective helps to illuminate problems with the marketization of public services that Bevir discusses. If services are performed by a private-sector corporation, the profits of the corporation only serve to increase its
528 KASWAN power against and at the expense of the very community it is supposed to serve. That corporation also enjoys power in that it is uniquely situated to provide expertise regarding the services it provides.13 Further, as even Adam Smith recognized, the interests of the corporation often stand opposed to the interests of the community (Smith 1976/1776, vol. I, p. 278). But even if the corporation itself is excluded from the discussion, the very pluralism that Bevir celebrates may bring with it inequalities in terms of political efficacy that may undermine the ability of participants to have their voices heard equally.14 So, however much public workers today may be envisioned by conservatives as feeding at the trough of the public purse, the problem is clearly much worse in the case of contracted- out services. Thompson’s response to this is to redesign social institutions so as to largely prevent the establishment of these kinds of inequalities,15 primarily through the establishment of democratic, egalitarian and cooperative communities of five hundred to two thousand people. In declaring that members of these communities “take no monastic vows of voluntary seclusion from the world,” that their “sympathies . . . will be enlarged,” and that “they will always seek to promote the public good” (Thompson 1968/1824, p. 434), Thompson became among the first—if not the first—to argue that the implementation of democratic practices within social institutions has an educative effect that enlightens participants’ sense of self-interest and provides them with the tools necessary to increase their political efficacy. Within these communities, democracy, understood as self- government, takes on a double meaning. In the first place, it means that the community governs itself, through the establishment of representative yet actively participatory institutions as the means by which they enact collective self-governance. But governance of the community, understood as a collective entity, operates alongside and, most importantly, as a complement to individuals’ self-government within the context of the community in their relations with other members of the community. An essential characteristic of these relations is that they are established on the basis of a deep equality: All members of the community recognize themselves as acting on an equal basis with all others in the community and, because they recognize that their own interests are wrapped up in and connected
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 529 to the interests of all, there is no concern that they will act in such a way as to undermine the community’s happiness. By this means, self- governance is effectively equated with governance, and the aporia of “democratic governance” is resolved. Democracy understood on these terms, then, is less a model for governance as a “pattern of rule,” and more of a principle of social interaction that serves as the basis for a “coordinated order.” Unfortunately, the kind of autarkic community Thompson envisioned didn’t work out too well—no community based on his plan was ever founded. That said, the principles he articulated formed the basis for the cooperative movement, which today, with some 800 million members worldwide, can be understood as the world’s largest democratic social movement.16 By addressing problems of inequality and powerlessness, cooperatives have made a real difference in enabling otherwise excluded members of society to have a meaningful voice in their governance—precisely by situating democratic practices outside of the formal political institutions of the state. But it should be noted that their role in self-governance doesn’t necessarily have much to do with the state. Rather, it may largely be limited to the cooperative itself. But if we can imagine the majority of social institutions organized along cooperative lines, rather than competitive ones, and if cooperation among cooperatives becomes normalized and even coordinated in a collective manner, then we may find that the functions of governance currently managed by the state could, in fact, be managed by networks of institutional structures outside of the state itself.17 If this sounds something like the “joined-up governance” articulated by New Labour, the similarity ends once the actual structure of the organizations providing the services is considered, to the extent that the cooperative model would be designed specifically on democratic principles, whereas most traditional social enterprises are not. My reason for discussing cooperatives here is meant to demonstrate the importance of considering the nature of institutions outside of the realm of the state in questions of governance. This is not a matter of making a crude sort of Marxist argument about structure and superstructure. Rather, it is about recognizing that many of the problems that need to be addressed by the state— including the so-called “wicked problems”—have something to do with the way that the economic system is structured, including in the way
530 KASWAN that it treats both the Earth and all the living things on it (including the people) in an instrumental manner for the accumulation of greater and greater amounts of wealth by smaller and smaller groups of people. The absence of democratic principles goes beyond the problem of people not having opportunities to participate in decision- making about public policy. It has to do with the conditions within which the social coordination Bevir identifies with governance takes place. These conditions cannot be ignored in the desire to establish participatory, deliberative democratic procedures and devolve governance to the people. To make “self-governance” a meaningful part of people’s lives, rather than something imposed on them by external forces, requires a fundamental restructuring of social institutions along more egalitarian lines. CONCLUSION The point of Gallie’s essay on essentially contested concepts is that while two contrasting arguments regarding the same subject may appear to draw from the same set of ideas, in fact the claims they make may only relate to one another tangentially, because the different perspectives may in fact apply different meanings to central terms in the debate. What I have attempted to show here is that advocating a greater role for public participation within the context of a system based on a representative model of democracy is very different from advocating a radical, participatory system of democracy, because each is based on a different idea of democracy and its role in society. The discussion of Bentham and Thompson illustrates the depth of the difference between those two models: Bentham’s representative model is top-down and state-centered, while Thompson’s participatory model is bottom-up and diffuse, located in institutions outside of the state itself. It may well be the case that these can co- exist—and as the example of the cooperative movement shows they already do to some extent, but only within separate institutional frameworks. Bevir, however, would like us to consider ways in which they can co-exist within the same framework of governance. Based on the discussion I have presented here, I must express my doubt. While the two models may be incommensurable, this is not to say that they are entirely incompatible. It is possible to make use of representative mechanisms within a participatory model (albeit with
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 531 care), and it may be possible to enable more opportunities for public participation within a representative system. But as the discussion of Bentham’s theory shows, representative models of democracy are premised on a division between the representatives and the people that gives preference to elites and expertise, and ultimately no extent of public participation can overcome that division—ultimately, “the decider” decides, and it is the elected representative who gets to do this, not the people themselves. The role of legislators is fiduciary, precisely to rule on behalf of the people. The discussion of Thompson’s theory shows that governance itself is understood differently in a participatory model. This is not to say that there is no place for the kind of social coordination function fulfilled by the state. But the primary location of governance (that is, self-governance within a collective context) is different: it is in the institutions through which people fulfill all the functions of social interaction, economic and otherwise. From this perspective, the notion of participatory democracy within the context of representative institutions is a chimera, and at worst a flimsy disguise for the exercise of power. The aporia of democratic governance, then, does more than simply pose “dilemmas for representative democracy.” Resolving this aporia requires a different way of thinking about democracy itself, in terms of its requirements, its locations and its relationship to governance. Addressing the gap between individual self-governance and collective self-governance requires a much greater degree of equality than we currently enjoy. This refers not only to formal equality with respect to the state, and not only to economic conditions. It also refers to the structure of our relationships within the social institutions that shape our interactions outside of the state—where we work and where we live. When we are self-governing in all of our relationships, and not just in our relationship to the state, then we can be said to have achieved democratic governance. NOTES 1. Bentham’s work is well known, although his democratic theory receives somewhat less attention than other aspects of his work. Thompson, a figure who has been largely overlooked in the history of political thought despite the influence he had on figures such as Karl Marx and John Stuart Mill, is particularly significant here not only because he articulates a theory of democracy that
532 KASWAN shares important features with contemporary radical democratic theory, but also because the meaning and even the presence of the term “social science” in the English lexicon owes much to him. 2. Bevir mostly is concerned with policy, not budgeting. I think this is a not-insignificant omission, as I will discuss below. 3. Schofield refers to official aptitude as the culmination of Bentham’s legal and political thought (p. 275). 4. Excluding women, of course, although including prisoners and the insane (Bentham 1843d, p. 599; 1843c, p. 559-560). This is not the place for an extensive discussion about Bentham’s attitude toward the inclusion of women, but the short version is to say that he supported their inclusion but was afraid that insisting on it would doom all attempts at reform (Bentham, 1843a: 108–109). 5. Granted, few today promote annual elections, but the notion of having elections frequently enough so that elected officials have a sense of accountability for their actions is generally accepted. 6. Note that “elite” here does not refer to economic class, but rather to the idea that those who are selected as rulers can be understood as a distinct class of persons who hold a particular sort of power with respect to the larger society. That they also tend to be from the upper classes in an economic sense (especially in Bentham’s time) is a quite separate matter. 7. It should be noted that Bentham considers the interest of the community to be “the sum of the interests of the several members who compose it” (Bentham 1996: 12)—understood as an aggregate, in other words, not as a collective entity. 8. Differences between the American and British systems may account for at least some of Bevir’s lack of attention to the difference discussed here. Parliamentarism more clearly establishes that the executive is subordinate to the legislature than does a presidential system. The American system, in particular, is established on the basis of three co-equal branches of government that check and balance one another rather than the chain of subordination. 9. I write based on my own experience. In the late 1980s and early 1990s I was an active participant in a grassroots organizing effort
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 533 that successfully opposed a proposed major expansion of military facilities in the San Francisco Bay Area. 10. That Thompson is all but ignored—check that, entirely ignored—by radical democratic theorists is no surprise, because his position in the history of political thought has generally if not quite so completely been overlooked. The only people, it seems, who pay attention to him are scholars in the history of socialism, the history of economic thought and an occasional feminist scholar. See, e.g., Beer, 1940; Stark, 1976/1943; Claeys, 1986; 1987; Pateman, 1988; Pankhurst, 1991/1954; Dooley 1996; Hunt, 2002. 11. My recent discovery of this work by Sismondi means that Claeys’ claim that Thompson is responsible for the appearance in English of “social science” can no longer be accepted (Claeys, 1986). 12. Space does not allow a discussion of this point, but I will say that it has to do with how they conceptualize happiness: Bentham understands it experientially, as occurring in the moment, whereas Thompson associates it with well-being, to be understood over an extended period of time. 13. The frequency with which corporate executives or industry lobbyists in the U.S. take positions in federal agencies that are supposed to be regulating those same industries has received no small amount of attention over the years. 14. Although primarily concerned with participation in the electoral process, Verba, Schlozman and Brady’s study said much about the question of the determinants of this inequality (Verba et al., 1995). 15. Thompson recognized that some types of inequality, such as experience or aptitude, could not be addressed. 16. The historical, social, economic and political significance of cooperatives has been recognized by the U.N. in designating 2012 the International Year of the Cooperative. 17. Thompson hints at something like this in a brief discussion about how the functions of the state could be managed by a national network of cooperative communities (Thompson, 1996). A more modern version, going by the name of the “cooperative
534 KASWAN commonwealth,” was articulated in the 1930s on both sides of the Atlantic (Mercer, 1936; Warbasse, 1942). REFERENCES Abers, R. N. (2000). Inventing Local Democracy: Grassroots Politics in Brazil. Boulder, CO: Lynne Rienner Publishers. Beer, M.(Ed.). (1940). A History of British Socialism. New York: The Humanities Press. Bentham, J. (1843a). "Constitutional Code." In J. Bowring (Ed.), Works of Jeremy Bentham (Vol. 9). Edinburgh, UK: William Tait. Bentham, J. (1843b). "The Elements of the Art of Packing, as Applied to Special Juries, Particularly in Cases of Libel Law." In J. Bowring (Ed.), Works of Jeremy Bentham, (Vol. 5, pp. 61-186). Edinburgh, UK: W. Tait; London: Simpkin, Marshall. Bentham, J. (1843c). "Radical Reform Bill, with Extracts from the Reasons." In J. Bowring (Ed.), Works of Jeremy Bentham, (Vol. 3, pp. 558-598). Edinburgh, UK: W. Tait; London: Simpkin, Marshall. Bentham, J. (1843d). "Radicalism Not Dangerous." In J. Browring (Ed.), Works of Jeremy Bentham (Vol. 3, pp. 599-622). Edinburgh: W. Tait; London: Simpkin, Marshall. Bentham, J. (1931). The Theory of Legislation. Translated by Richard Hildreth. Edited by Etienne Dumont. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, Ltd. (Original work published 1802) Bentham, J. (1983/1830). Constitutional Code, Vol. 1. In F. Rosen and J. H. Burns (Eds.), The Collected Works of Jeremy Bentham. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Bentham, J. (1989). The Correspondence of Jeremy Bentham: January 1817 to June 1820. Stephen Conway (Ed.). Vol. 9. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Bentham, J. (1993). Official Aptitude Maximized; Expense Minimized. Philip Schofield, (Ed.). Oxford: Clarendon Press. Bentham, J. (1996). An Introduction to the Principles of Morals and Legislation. J. H. Burns and H. L. A. Hart, (Eds.). Oxford: Clarendon Press.
A BRIDGE TO NOWHERE: CONNECTING REPRESENTATIVE AND RADICAL MODELS OF DEMOCRACY 535 Bevir, M. (2006.) "Democratic Governance: Systems and Radical Perspectives." Public Administration Review, 66 (3): 426-36. Bevir, M. (2010). Democratic Governance. Princeton, CT: Princeton University Press. Burns, J. H. (1966). "Bentham and the French Revolution". Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, 16, Fifth Series: 95- 114. Claeys, G. (1986). "'Individualism,' 'Socialism,' and 'Social Science': Further Notes on a Process of Conceptual Formation, 1800- 1850". Journal of the History of Ideas, 47 (1): 81-93. Claeys, G. (1987). Machinery, Money, and the Millennium: From Moral Economy to Socialism, 1815-60. Cambridge, UK: Polity Press. Dinwiddy, J.R. (1975). “Bentham's Transition to Political Radicalism, 1809-10.” Journal of the History of Ideas, 36 (4): 683-700. Dooley, D. (1996). Equality in Community: Sexual Equality in the Writings of William Thompson and Anna Doyle Wheeler. Cork, Ireland: Cork University Press. Gallie, W.B. (1955-1956). “Essentially Contested Concepts.” Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 56 (New Series): 167-98. Hilmer, J.D. (2010). “The State of Participatory Democratic Theory.” New Political Science, 32 (1): 43-64. Hunt, E.K. (2002). History of Economic Thought: A Critical Perspective (2nd ed.). Armonk, NY: London: M.E. Sharpe. Mercer, T.W. (1936). Towards the Co-operative Commonwealth: Why Poverty in the Midst of Plenty? Manchester, UK: The Co-operative Press. Pankhurst, R.K.P. (1991/1954). William Thompson (1775-1833): Britain's Pioneer Socialist, Feminist, and Co-operator. London: Pluto Press. Pateman, C. (1988). The Sexual Contract. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press. Rosen, F. (1983). Jeremy Bentham and Representative Democracy: A Study of the Constitutional Code. Oxford, UK: Clarendon Press.
536 KASWAN Schofield, P. 2006. Utility and Democracy: The Political Thought of Jeremy Bentham. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Sismondi, J. C. L. (1821). "On the History of the Middle Ages--No. 1". The New Monthly Magazine and Literary Journal, II: 508-514. Smith, A. (1976/1776). An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Stark, W. (1976/1943). The Ideal Foundations of Economic Thought: Three Essays on the Philosophy of Economics. Fairfield, NJ: Augustus M. Kelley. Thompson, W. (1968/1824). An Inquiry into the Principles of the Distribution of Wealth Most Conducive to Human Happiness, Applied to the Newly Proposed System of Voluntary Equality of Wealth. New York: B. Franklin. Thompson, W. (1996/1827). "Labor Rewarded: The Claims of Labor and Capital Conciliated: or, How to Secure to Labor the Whole Products of its Exertions". In D. Reisman (Ed.), Ricardian Socialism (Vol. 1). London: Pickering & Chatto. Verba, S., Schlozman, K. L., & Henry E. Brady, H. E. (1995). Voice and Equality: Civic Voluntarism in American Politics. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Warbasse, J. P. (1942). Cooperative Democracy (4th ed.). New York, London: Harper & Brothers.
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