From Prophecy To Prediction: 12. Georges Sore1 and The Ghost in The Machine

You might also like

Download as pdf or txt
Download as pdf or txt
You are on page 1of 6

266 Frem Projhecy to Prediction

From Prophecy
A serialised survey of the movement
to Prediction
of ideas, developments in predictive
fiction, and first attempts to forecast
the future scientifically.
12. Georges Sore1 and the ghost in the machine
Martin Clark
IT is said that when Georges Sore1 had
been in his grave for ten years, the
ambassadors of both the Soviet Union
and of fascist Italy asked if they might
contribute to a more imposing memo-
rial to him, as one of the ideological
precursors of their regimes. If this story
isnt true, it ought to be. Sore1 was a
curiously prophetic figure. A retired
engineer, living modestly off his civil
service pension, the epitomy of bour-
geois propriety in his private life (he
always wore his ribbon of the Legion
dHonneur), Sore1 steeped himself in
philosophy and history, and then
launched into the Parisian and Euro-
pean intellectual world of the 1890s and
1900s with cheerful gusto and origin-
ality. The results were extraordinary.
Sore1 was incoherent, often contradicted
himself, and never produced a system-
atic account of anything; yet he
helped demolish the comfortable intel-
lectual assumptions of Edwardian
Europe, and taught men to look at
European society-and its future-in a
radically new way. Moreover, he did it
in a best-seller, his Rejections on Violence. 1
Sore1 refused to believe that men
were rational creatures, ruled by pru-
dence and natural law; on the con-
trary, they were creatures of passion,
given to violence and swayed by myths.
Nor did hc believe that society was an
Martin Clark is a lecturer in the r)eparttnent of
Politics at the University of Edinburgh, Edin-
burgh, EH8 9YI,, Scotland. He is author of
Antonio Gratnsci and theRevolution that Failed (New
Haven, Coon, Yale University Press, forth-
coming).
evolving organism, with its own laws
that could be uncovered by diligent
scientific enquiry. On the contrary,
there were no such laws, and certainly
no one could predict the future.
Nor, of course, did Sore1 hold any
mechanistic view of society. Society
was not a vast, self-regulating machine,
needing only occasional repairs by
skilled social engineers; it was more like
a battlefield between conflicting in-
terests.
Worst of all, Sore1 did not believe in
progress. It was no use telling him that
You cant put the clock back, for he
didnt think the clock was telling the
right time, and didnt believe in clocks
in any case. Neither was it any use, in
Sorels hearing, expressing the hope
that technology would solve social
problems, or that it would determine
the pattern of the future. Sore1 would
have retorted that future society, with
all its complexity, irrationality and
myths, would determine what kind o*
technology was invented (or, at least,
applied). Nor was Sore1 impressed by
bourgeois democracy. No decisions
were ever taken on their mertis.
Always there was bribery, and the
parliamentary system was nothing but
a national system of bribery. Deputies,
and the electors, swapped votes for
cash; and in the process they became
corrupt. Indeed, bourgeois society was
irredeemably corrupt, and its claims to
represent progress were laughable.
Sorels greatest contempt, however,
was reserved for working-class leaders.
Parliamentary socialists like Jean
FUTURES J une 1979
From Prophecy to Prediction 267
Jaures betrayed their followers and
secured comfortable lives for themselves.
If they ever came to power they would
simply corrupt the workers more than
they had already.
Altogether, Sore1 was an uncomfort-
able fellow to have around in polite
society, the more so since his scepticism
about social progress was accompanied
by predictions of social conflict. He
believed that society was divided into
groups or classes, and these groups were
and ought to be in conflict with each
other. Attempts at compromise between
the groups, at achieving consensus
throughout society, led only to corrup-
tion. Groups were the foundation of
morality, and Sore1 was nothing if not
a moralist. Men who fought, as
members of a group, were heroic and
noble. They would help their fellows,
and perform selfless deeds without
thought of remuneration; they would
be upright, independent, and free.
Of course, they would also be hostile to
people not in the group, and society
would be constantly rent by bitter
conflicts and violence; but that was a
small price to pay for producing heroes,
and for overcoming hedonism and
corruption. Society, said Sore& was
divided into warring tribes. It was
morally right that it should be so, and
intellectually right that it should be
recognised to be so.
And what united men in a group?
Myths, rooted in fables of deeds per-
formed by heroes long ago, or-even
better-in apocalyptic expectations of
a future triumph over the forces of
darkness. The early Christians cohered
as a group, because they daily awaited
the Second Coming; the workers in
France felt-or should feel-the same
way about the revolution, or about the
general strike. Groups need their myths,
their imaginative rousing concepts that
create political reality. Sore1 pointed to
the syndicalists myth of the prole-
tarian general strike as the cohesive
force among French workers, the force
that might enable them to topple the
decadent bourgeoisie. It is worth
noting how important the future is
in this scheme of things. In order to
form groups, men need myths; pre-
dictions of the future are a necessary
part of most myths, and thus mens
social conflicts here and now rest on
their various views of the future. The
future becomes the basis of the present,
perhaps even the basis of history (the
past). The Second Coming has never
happened (as yet), but Christianity has
become a worldwide religion because
of it. Social scientists hitherto had
researched into the present, in order to
reveal the future; Sore1 researched into
the future, in order to reveal the present.
This perspective, however bizarre it
may have appeared to the prosperous
French bourgeoisie, enabled Sore1 to
see what was going on far more clearly
than they did. The importance of
militant trade unions, the growth of
nationalism and populist revolt in
outlying regions, the rise of political
anti-Semitism and racism, the idea of
war as a permanent characteristic of
society, the growth of guerilla warfare
and urban terrorism-all this would
have come as no surprise to Sorel. Nor
would the current situation in Northern
Ireland, Lebanon, or the Argentine.
Sore1 was always impressed by the
cowardice, the tendency to appease-
ment, characteristic of the comfortable
middle-class and of democratic govern-
ments. Strikes and violence usually
P"Yi
troops are rarely called in,
except to force employers to settle;
there is very rarely official retaliation
against terrorism or intimidation. Hence
the fragility of bourgeois society. Pro-
gressives and liberals, Sore1 complained,
prefer to sell out the whole country
rather than stand and fight. Fortu-
nately, however, if the progressives are
too tolerant of violence they are soon
replaced by more robust defenders of
middle-class values, like Mussolini.
Paradoxically, Sore1 approved of work-
ing-class violence at least partly because
he hoped it would arouse the middle
FUTURES J une 1876
268 From Prophecy to Prediction
classes from their slumbers. It would
force them to become warlike, heroic,
and energetic again, and thus preserve
civilisation.
Faith and the revolution
Sore1 has other lessons to teach us as
well. I personally agree with his view
that predictions of the future are
myths, and tell us only about ourselves
and our societies. Sore1 was also right,
I think, to stress that revolutionary
political commitment is not based on
intellectual arguments. Like religious
commitment, it presupposes a will to
believe, a leap into faith-a point
well understood by chairman Mao.
Arguably, too, all institutions (not just
armies or trade unions) need to be
sustained by moral fervour; and per-
haps that is what is wrong with many
of our current ones-as non-heroic
men, we accept them out of prudence
or inertia, not out of faith. And it is
difficult not to sympathise with Sore1
when he urges that people should run
their own lives, and not be fooled by
intellectual charlatans or political
careerists. Moreover, in his more
optimistic moments, Sore1 argued
that groups did not have to be violent
tribes. They might also be work
groups, and men might find virtue and
heroism among the myths of produc-
tion, as well as among those of race or
war. Industrial societies might thus
generate their own ethic, the ethic of
the producer, craftsman or artist,
working in teams and competing (not
fighting) against other groups. This is
certainly a more attractive myth, and
has become curiously fashionable again
recently. Small is beautiful; craftsmen
enjoy sturdy independence; the tedium
of mass civilisation may yet be staved
off. Perhaps Sore1 stumbled upon the
basis of ethics in our time.
On the other hand, Sore1 was often
mistaken. His picture of industrial
society as a conflict of warring groups
is, at best, only partially true of France
or other advanced societies. Perhaps
because he wrote before the mass
media, mass advertising and mass
education had conditioned us all, he
clearly underestimated social consen-
sus. The despised bureaucratic, corrupt
middle class has normally had little
difficulty in imposing its values through-
out society; normally workers, ethnic
groups, and even religious sects have
proved only too anxious to sell their
militant birthright for a mess of
corrupt pottage. And a good job too,
for Northern Ireland is not everyones
idea of an ideal society.
Sore1 romanticised the strike, just as
Marx had romanticised the Paris
commune; but in practice he didnt
like violence any more than anyone
else does-he did not, for example,
welcome the virtual civil war in Italy
in 1921-22, before the Fascist seizure
of power. There may be some virtues
in compromise after all; there may be
some point in social reforms; there may
be more social cohesion among the
various groups, more society-wide myths,
than Sore1 was prepared to allow
(admittedly war is likely to make them
more strongly felt). Perhaps there is
even something to be said for Sorels
two pet hates, economic prosperity and
universal compulsory education.
The anthropological viewpoint
It seems to me that Sorels real con-
tribution is that he looked at industrial
society with new eyes-those of an
anthropologist. He was groping towards
a new perspective on Western society,
trying to see it from the outside, urging
himself painfully away from the
familiar, educated middle-class view of
the world. It was a desperately difficult
task, requiring great imagination and
intellectual rigour. No wonder that
many of his conclusions were tentative,
or that he seemed irrational to his
contemporaries (and even to us). What
is going on in this place? What do
these rituals, these symbols, signify?
What are the values of this community?
How are they formed ? These were the
FUTURES J une 1976
In a British fantasy of 1891 (above) war begins with an assassination of a prince in the Balkans
And in an American fantasy of 1885 (below), dirigible aircraft (Dynamite ballon) would lead to air warfare
A favourite fear before 1914 was
a proletarian uprising . . .
. . * in which the mob shoot the
most eminent citizens. Here the
Bishop of Chichester dies oppo-
site his cathedral
From Prophecy to Prediction/Publications Received 271
questions Sore1 asked himself. They are
anthropologists questions, and his
answers were anthropological too.
Why, for example, did strikes occur?
Not, said Sore& so that workers could
win higher wages, or even so that they
could seize power (much less so that
they could entrust power to others).
Such notions were contemptible bour-
geois ones, quite foreign to the world
view of real workers. Strikes were ritual
affirmations of manly independence,
heroic acts creating ties of social
solidarity and mutual esteem; divisive
acts, that established clearly who
belonged in which group. They were
the class struggle, which was pure and
simple, indeed simplifying. Such rituals
were very necessary in impersonal
industrial societies, and Sore1 assumed
that they would become more, not less,
important as bourgeois prosperity and
comfort increased. The same argument
applied to wars, and to many kinds of
group terrorism.
Yet Sore1 did not conclude that
industrial society was doomed. Cer-
tainly it was threatened by decadence:
the bourgeoisie were soft and corrupt,
the parliamentary socialists were power
seeking and even more corrupt. Even
so, it could be redeemed by violence;
even the bourgeoisie would become
heroic when they had to confront the
workers. This is a familiar idea in
anthropology. Violence, said Sore& was
a purifying ritual. It was not irrelevant,
not even a threat, but a necessary
emotional affirmation, which alone
makes industrial society tolerable and
may enable it to survive. We need our
occasional psychodramas. They do not
have to be bloody to be effective,
world wars and revolutions are not
really necessary, the events of May
1968 in Paris will do just as well. Ritual
heroism is all; even violence can be
recycled back into the industrial system.
Sorels message is thus rather subtle,
and interesting. It is that wise rulers (or
wise capitalists) should not worry too
much about spontaneous disaffection;
FUTURES J une 1976
nor should they try to exert too much
social control (although some is ob-
viously needed, in order to satisfy the
other sides thirst for self-expression) ;
nor-least of all-should they try to buy
off, or absorb, disaffection. Trade
unions should not be brought into the
system; there is no need for all the
panoply of consultation and social
planning. Society isnt like that. Let
people have their fling. Theyll be the
better for it, and so will industrial
society. Few rulers are prepared to
follow Sorels advice; but then, few
rulers see their societies through anthro-
pological spectacles. It takes an engi-
neer to do that.
Reference
1. Georges Sorel, Reflections on Violence
(Paris and London, Dunod, 1894).
Publications received
Daniel Bell, The Cultural Contradictions of Capital-
ism (London, Heinemann Educational Books,
1978), 301 pages, L5.75 cloth.
Cabinet Office. Future World Trends (London.
HMSO, 1976), 27 pages, 60~.
C. West Churchman, Systems and Managemmt
Annual 1975 (New York, Petrocelli/ Charter
Books, 1975), 620 pages, $25 cloth.
Nigel Cross and Robin Roy, Design Methods
Manual (Milton Keynes, Open University
Press, 19?5), 131 pagks, i2.95.
David Elliott and Ruth Elliott. The Control of
Technology (London, Wykeham Publications,
1976), xvi + 244 pages, Lg.80 cloth.
C. Gearing, W. Swart, and T. Var, Planning for
Tourism and Development (London, Martin
Robertson, 1976), 221 pages, Lg.80 cloth.
Daniel Harrison, Social Forecasting Methodology :
Suggestions for Research (Ruse1 Sage Founda-
tion, 230 Park Avenue, NY 10017, 1976),
94 pages, single copies free.
Robert Heilbroner; Business Civilization in
Decline (London. Marion Bovars. 1976). 127
pages, i3.95 cloih, El.95 paper.
I nterdisciplinary Science Reviews (London, Heyden,
1976), quarterly iournal, $44, gl7 perannum.
Draper L: Kauffx&n, Jr, -Teaching the Future: A
Guide to Future-Oriented Education (Palm Springs.
ETC Publications, 1976), 298 pages,* $5.95
paper, $12.95 cloth.
John Naughton and Lyn Jones, World Models:
Sense or Nonsense? (Milton Keynes, Open
University Press, 1975), 50 pages.

You might also like