The Unhappy Liberal: Critical Theory Without Cultural Dopes

A specter has haunted ideology, the specter of its own "death." Social and political thought has been increasingly littered with proclamations of the "end of ideology" and the beginning of— something else: the triumph of the free market, a history without history, a transparent and open communication society, the triumph of liberalism, and so on. "Ideology critique," from this perspective, is obsolete. It is, at best, a "mopping up" operation that cleans up the few troglodytes who have failed to become fully "modern/rational/reasonable/etc."

For instance, Richard Rorty’s position on ideology is typical of this "post-ideological" ethos. Taking up a Rawlsian shovel, Rorty buries ideology by arguing that because liberal societies are founded on widespread egalitarian intuitions about fairness, citizens of such societies already accept those moral principles which invalidate various forms of injustice (i.e. sexism and racism). Paradoxically, such agents often explicitly acknowledge that their unjust practices violate legitimate principles of justice. For example, women who knowingly accept discrimination in the home (and workplace) and whites who accept the principle of integration while fleeing to the suburbs are typical examples of agents in liberal societies who already accept norms which invalidate their own practices. Such agents are not necessarily under the sway of systematic false beliefs, traditions, or worldviews that unconsciously legitimate forms of injustice. Far from being "cultural dopes" who, as Harold Garfinkel puts it, "lack insight into the normative underpinnings of their actions," members of liberal societies have already "seen the light" and accept the norms entailed in an egalitarian conception of justice. In such a case, the consciousness raising power of ideology critique is already thwarted because, as Rorty notes, citizens in liberal societies have already raised their consciousnesses.

Even aside from his rosy portrayal of liberal societies, Rorty’s account is troubling at least for the following reason: despite the triumph of liberalism and the "end" of ideology, numerous forms of injustice persist in liberal societies (i.e. gender and racial discrimination). Rorty offers a Kuhnian explanation of how this could be so:

In politics, as in the Kuhnian model of theory-change in the

sciences, anomalies within the old paradigm can pile up

indefinitely without providing much basis for criticism until

a new option is offered. ‘Immanent’ criticism of the old

paradigm is relatively ineffective.

While members of liberal societies may accept egalitarian norms, they may continue to engage in unjust practices until an alternative is offered to them. Given this, Rorty argues that the "most efficient way to expose or demystify an existing practice would seem to be by suggesting an alternative practice." In other words, the best "critique" of a practice is not through criticism at all. Rather, in a Heideggerian vein, Rorty argues that transformation is best served by the creative and poetic articulation of new practices. It is in suggesting alternative practices for ethical life that we show current practices to be "unnecessary evils" that can be transformed for the better.

Despite his call for innovation, Rorty remains silent as to which, or even what kind of practices critics should try to articulate. Furthermore, it is unclear if articulation alone is enough. After all, unjust practices persist not only in the face of critique, but also in the face of articulated relevant alternatives. For instance, Rorty himself argues that it is "[r]elatively easy to envisage a world with equal pay for equal work, equally shared domestic responsibilities [and] as many women as men in positions of power..." But this "articulation" approach simply recasts the problem in Rorty’s account of the end of ideology-- If various egalitarian practices are easily imagined and articulated, why do they remain elusive?

Rorty is perhaps correct that a certain form of ideology is no longer dominant in liberal societies. Broad legitimating narratives, unconscious psychic/social structures, or well developed systems of false beliefs which support domination may, indeed, be increasingly irrelevant in liberal societies. However, the persistence of numerous forms of unjust practices in liberal societies suggests that the rumors about the death of ideology have been greatly exaggerated. I suggest that ideology, understood in a particular way, can be a viable concept for critical theory in liberal societies. As opposed to the kinds of ideology that Rorty thinks are irrelevant for liberal societies, I define ideology as the reasons that historically embedded agents appeal to when they choose to violate their own sense of justice.

Of course, this appears to be something of a phyric victory that salvages the relevance of ideology at the price of sacrificing all that is politically meaningful (and philosophically interesting) about it. On my account, the commitment to ideology as false beliefs, false consciousness, unconscious value commitments, broad narratives that justify oppression, or warped socialization is abandoned. However, I think the theory of ideology is better off for shedding itself of these commitments because most of them entail an account of agency which underestimates the rationality, reflexivity, and creativity that agents exhibit when they engage their world. Instead of portraying agents as "cultural dopes," I assume that agents are robustly rational, that they knowingly act on reasons (reasons which they can articulate and defend), that they creatively negotiate their way through the social world, and that they act on beliefs which are largely true.

However, far from surrendering the core of ideology critique, my account actually recovers its roots in critical theory. In the following sections I argue that ideology critique, from its practice in Marx, has focused on ways agents reason when they violate their own sense of justice. I highlight this through a reading of Marx’s The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte. I argue that Marx’s approach to ideology (at least in that work) turns on the idea that historically embedded agents can appeal to different kinds of reasons in practical decision making. While a certain practice may lack moral legitimacy, it may, for different reasons, retain a certain practical credibility. I then show how this kind of ideology critique can be applied fruitfully to the reproduction of asymmetrical gender roles in contemporary liberal societies.

The events in France in 1851 presented Marx with a puzzle. The revolution of 1848, which overthrew the July Monarchy, was motivated by deep and widespread democratic intuitions. Yet by 1851, with the rise of Louis Bonaparte and the establishment of the Second Empire, "what seems overthrown is no longer the monarchy but the liberal concessions that were wrung from it by centuries of struggle." Even more puzzling was the fact that Bonaparte’s coup was hardly an imposition of external power over and against the French population. Rather, Bonaparte enjoyed wide support both in his coup and as Emperor. As Marx caustically puts it: "It remains to be explained how a nation of thirty-six million can be surprised and delivered unresisting into captivity by three swindlers." The Eighteenth Brumaire of Louis Bonaparte was Marx’s account of how the French population acted against its own sense of justice (which had been expressed in the Revolution of 1848) and found "itself set back into a defunct epoch."

Unlike some of his other works (i.e. The German Ideology) Marx does not appeal to a "dominant ideology" thesis by which French citizens simply accepted the ideas of the ruling classes. Instead, Marx argues that the historical, economic, political and cultural conditions of France in 1851 created a constellation of interests and values that gave multiple groups reason to accept the rise of the Second Empire under Bonaparte—despite widespread acceptance of democratic principles. In this sense the members of French society did not need a raised consciousness—they already accepted democratic principles. The emergence of the Second Empire was made possible because various sectors of French society appealed to their contextual values and interests in acting against their own sense of justice.

For instance, Marx argues that the general nostalgia for the glorious past, wrapped in the mystique of Napoleon Bonaparte, created nationalistic conditions for Louis Bonaparte to exploit his name and play off the desire to return France to its former glory. Thus, Bonaparte used his name, exploited the feud between the Orleanists and Legitimsts, and pandered to the bourgeois through an emphasis on the issue of order to seize power. Importantly, Bonaparte also secured the loyalty of the most numerous class in France, the small holding peasants. Economically he was able to do this because their mode of production and geographic condition kept them largely separated and dispersed. As such, Marx argues, they desired a type of political rule which was non-deliberative—"their representatives must at the same time appear as their masters…" Bonaparte played off this need, as well as the popular belief amongst the peasants that "a man named Bonaparte would bring all the glory back to them" to convince the peasants that he was the true representative of their class. By placing importance on a large standing army, Bonaparte restored the mechanism by which the peasants could claim national glory—"they themselves transformed into heroes..."

At the end of the day, no one was actually swindled into the Second Empire. Appealing to historically embedded reasons that made reference to their concrete condition, traditions, and conceptions of the good, many members of French society chose to support the rise of the Second Empire even as such a choice violated their commitment to the abstract ideals of republicanism.

The Eighteenth Brumaire suggests that agents often appeal to different kinds of reasons in practical decision making. As a result, it is possible for a heteronomy, or internal conflict, to develop within practical rationality by which agents are rationally motivated to act against their own sense of justice. In this section, I argue that this heteronomy is rooted (at least) in the difference between the "moral" and "ethical" perspectives of practical rationality.

Ethical and moral reasoning are distinct uses of practical rationality because they appeal to different perspectives in answering the question "What should I do?" Ethical reasoning begins with the particular embededness of the agent. It offers reasons which make reference to an agent’s project of living "the good life." This involves considerations of one’s context, history, tradition, relationships, and community. Thus, ethical reasoning is, as Jürgen Habermas puts it, "contingent on the prior telos of a consciously pursued way of life" and is "embedded in encompassing historical forms of life." From this point of view, agents offer reasons that account for their life path as the best one for them, given certain goals, limitations, and resources that permeate their everyday lives.

From the ethical perspective, the question "What should I do?" is answered normatively, that is, it is answered with an "ought." However, from this perspective, the "ought" takes on a special character. Habermas notes that:

What you "should" or "must" do has here the sense

that it is "good" for you to act in this way in the long

run, all things considered. Aristotle speaks in this

connection of paths of the good and happy life. Strong

evaluations take their orientation from a goal posited

absolutely for me, that is, from the highest good of a self

sufficient form of life that has value in itself.

It is because ethical reasoning takes on a contextualized, concrete character as it questions the "good life" that philosophers like Hegel located "ethical life" in the family, the essential social institution for constructing conceptions of the good life. In such institutions, practical rationality is used to construct and maintain certain interpersonal relationships, or more generally, to construct and maintain a certain way of life. Thus, the ethical perspective is, as Hegel puts it, "intensely actual."

Moral reasoning, on the other hand, takes a different point of view. Rather than addressing specific goods within a particular context, moral reasoning takes up a broader perspective and inquires into the general permissibility of certain actions. Unlike its ethical counterpart, moral reasoning requires that one distance oneself "from the contexts of life with which one’s identity is inextricably interwoven." From this more universalistic view, agents offer reasons that are impartial and "public" insofar as they are reasons that anyone could, in principle, accept. This kind of reasoning, for Habermas, takes on the form of reasoning articulated by Kant’s ethical and political writings. When reasoning publicly, agents attempt to take the perspective of everyone and address an unlimited audience with arguments that depend solely on the motivating force of the reasons themselves. In this kind of reasoning, agents ask "whether I can will that a maxim should be followed by everyone as a general law." Such reasoning produces general norms that have a "universal," or for Neo-Kantians like Rawls and Habermas, a "quasi-transcendental" character. Their obligational scope extends well beyond the individual agent’s search for the "good life."

Whereas ethical reasoning concerns the more concrete and particularized concerns of the individual’s attempt to construct a "good life," moral reasoning takes a more abstract position, distancing itself from the performative point of view. When using moral reasoning, agents attempt to construct "oughts" which are binding on all. In ethical reasoning, the binding power of the "ought" is limited to "what is good for me and is appropriate in a given situation."

Ideally, moral and ethical reasoning are integrated with one another, but it is possible that agents may not be able to bring their moral and ethical judgments in harmony with one another. In such a case, an agent recognizes the universal (moral) and contextual (ethical) dimensions of their practical rationality, but cannot see themselves as the unity of the two—a condition that Hegel called the "unhappy consciousness." For Hegel, the "unhappy consciousness" is the consciousness that recognizes both its universal/abstract and particular/concrete dimensions, and yet, cannot see itself as a unity of the two. Understood normatively, the "unhappy consciousness" differs from "true" or "absolute" spirit because in absolute spirit, the authentic consciousness becomes at home with itself through a social world. That world is arranged in such a way that one’s ethical life (i.e. the obligations and projects that are assumed in one’s attempt to live the "good life") is consistent with (but not identical to) the universal norms that all are expected to follow. Thus, it is as members of a rational society (the state) that agents unify the different elements of consciousness. The "unhappy consciousness," unlike absolute spirit, recognizes that part of its identity is found in the form of universality, where practical rationality takes the perspective of all, and yet cannot see how that perspective-- that part of itself-- can be made consistent with its particular, contextualized ethical life. In the "unhappy consciousness" an agent sees him or herself as the universal (the moral) and as the particular (the ethical), but cannot maintain the dialectical balance between the two. As such, the individual becomes a "merely contradictory being."

The Eighteenth Brumaire is a good example of how the unhappy consciousness can subvert moral judgements. Marx’s initial query is how the moral judgement regarding the justness of the republic was subverted and replaced with the acceptance of the Second Empire. His answer is that the moral reasoning used to justify the republic was undermined by various ethical reasons supporting the validity of the Empire. Marx nicely demonstrates how contextual considerations by historically embedded agents led to practical decision making favoring the Empire. The self- understanding of the peasant class is a prime example. Their way of life, tradition, and conception of the "good life" provided ethical resources for supporting the empire—regardless of their moral judgements about it. They may have believed that a republic, all things being equal, would be a more just state. However, the Empire gave them (i.e. through a large standing army) a better opportunity to live out their conception of the good life given their history, interests and self-understandings. While the republic may havc been a morally valid ideal, the peasants rationally supported the Empire because of its practical credibility—it was more consistent with the goals of their ethical lives. Judgements of practical credibility take the standpoint of the historical context and can serve as an ethical resource in undermining moral insights.

In this case, ideology does not function as a set of false beliefs or unconscious commitments, but rather as an unhappy consciousness in which moral validity is undermined by practical credibility. In such cases, agents may make valid moral judgements (as Rorty suggests in liberal societies), but still act "ideologically" in violating their own sense of justice. Understood via the unhappy consciousness, the analysis of ideology in liberal societies studies (as in The Eighteenth Brumaire) the ways in which the practical contexts of everyday life can lead rational and reflexive agents to violate their own sense of justice.

In this section, I want to explore the possibility of applying the kind of analysis that I have been arguing for to a contemporary example of social injustice. I believe that my conception of ideology is particularly helpful in explaining instances in which agents chose to tolerate (and sometimes participate in) unjust practices that serve the purpose of maintaining and/or furthering their own oppression. Some cases of gender discrimination are examples of agents who, against their moral judgement, accept and even participate in their own oppression. In the following case study I focus on the role of ideology in women who knowingly accept subordinate social roles in college campus organizations despite the fact that such roles violate their own sense of gender equality.

A stark example of this phenomenon can be found in the various "Little Sister" organizations found on many campuses in the United States. "Little Sister" organizations are groups of women affiliated with a particular male fraternity. In order to maintain their membership in the organization, "Little Sisters" are often asked to participate in a series of sexist practices. For instance, many "Little Sister" members reccount their humiliation and moral indignation when taking part in "mock slave auctions" where they were asked to "perform" for fraternity members who "bid" on them. However, despite the recognition of the deep moral problems with such practices, many women nonetheless choose to remain members and participate in such practices for two reasons: the need to build trusting relationships on campus (to belong) and the normalization of the organization that plays off sexist family structures. Because the vast majority of women who join "Little Sister" organizations are new to campus they exhibit a greater commitement to building relationships with other students in an effort to make "their place" in campus life. An organization like the "Little Sisters" is therefore attractive because it provides an institutional mechanism by which women can meet others and develop friendships, intimate relationships and associations. Indeed, many group members point to the "family-like" relationships between the "sister" and her "brothers," as lending practical credibility to the practices of the organization. Trust, intimacy, dependence, and acceptance are ethical goods of family-life that come to be reproduced in the relationship between "sisters" and "brothers" thus normalizing them as everyday elements of ethical life-- even though some of those relations were admittedly under asymmetrical circumstances.

This case highlights the fact that agents who violate their own sense of justice are often not nearly as irrational as typical theories of ideology assume. While violating their moral perspective, these women appeal to reasons grounded in ethical goods that are extremely important to them. Like those supporting the Second Empire, these women are caught in an unhappy consciousness. Whereas members of French society appealed to national pride, glory, community, and order in violating their sense of justice (democracy), "Little Sister" members appeal to intimacy, trust, friendship and family in violating their sense of justice (gender symmetry).

A number of advantages are secured by construing the actions of the "Little Sisters" as the product of an unhappy consciousness. We can account for the paradoxical actions of agents who accept egalitarian moral norms and yet act against them without assuming that agents are simply irrational or hypocritical. "Little Sister" members offer reasons for their actions, accept the moral problems with their institution and believe themselves to be justified for their actions. It is worth noting that in cases of the unhappy consciousness, agents believe they are doing the "right" thing. Such agents do not perceive themselves to be acting out of mere self-interest maximization, but believe themselves to be normatively guided in their actions. Thus there are a range of cases in which an unhappy consciousness account of action is superior to both traditional theories of ideology (which assume agents are irrational) as well as rational choice models of action (which assume that agents are merely self-interest maximizers).

However, these insights raise serious questions about the role of critique and the possibility to social transformation. After all, if ideological action already has a rational basis how is social transformation possible at all. While a detailed answer to this question is beyond the scope of this paper, I conclude with some suggestions about social transformation in the face of the unhappy consciousness.

Because the ethical and moral perspective are different kinds of practical reasoning, it is not clear from what perspective one could claim that the moral simply holds trump over the ethical and vice versa. This means that the goal of ideology critique and social transformation must be the re-integration of the ethical and moral perspectives rather than the imposition of one onto the other. In other words, ideology critique utilizes the Hegelian ideal of a synthesized practical rationality in which the moral and ethical modes of practical rationality are held in a fruitful dialectic.

Hegel’s concept of consciousness also offers us some insights as to how the re-integration of practical rationality can be accomplished. As I noted before, the unhappy consciousness is overcome, for Hegel, when agents are situated in the rational state, that is, in specific kind of practical context that is arranged so that the moral and ethical perspectives of agents are reunified. While Hegel’s account of the state might not be particularly appealing, the general insight is helpful. If the moral and ethical perspectives are to be reintegrated, something must change in the everyday lives of agents to give them the resources to accomplish this reintegration. Real alternative ways of living must be made available.

In this sense, Rorty’s concern for innovation is well placed. The best critique of a practice is to show how it emerges from the unhappy consciousness and make available alternative practices, institutions and ethical goods. However, Rorty’s claim that "[p]rophecy, as we see it, is all that non-violent social movements have when argumentation has failed" is simply too disengaged. Articulation alone is never enough—to overcome ideology the practices of everyday life themselves must be transformed.

However, this solution presents its own problems. Those who reason from an unhappy consciousness are not simply evil or irrational. This means that transformative social action should not paternalistically treat citizens as irrational children if it is to remain consistent with the moral and ethical autonomy possessed by members of liberal societies. Respecting moral (or public) autonomy requires that transformations of everyday life remain consistent with the basic features of liberalism (i.e. civil, political and social rights). Respecting ethical autonomy requires working cooperatively with citizens in deliberations which aim to provide moral and ethical reasons to at least tolerate the transformation of their everyday world. If either of these forms of autonomy are violated, then citizens, precisely because they recognize and value their moral and ethical autonomy, will reject and actively counter-resist any transformation of their world.

These competing demands-- transformation and autonomy—can be satisfied. For instance, grass roots movements that work immanently to particular contexts and develop trust with lifeworld participants can offer live alternatives to current practices. For instance, on college campuses, women’s groups (and many women’s studies programs) attempt to create forums, activities and institutions that offer competing forms of life and public venues to the sexist spheres of campus life (fraternities, etc). In such forums, women can still meet their ethical goals of establishing a place for themselves in the campus world, meeting friends and developing intimate relationships. However, in these activities, women are not asked to choose between justice and practical credibility. In such groups, moral norms of gender equality, power sharing, accountability, and symmetry are also the organizing principles of everyday practices. The real power of such groups, as in the consciousness raising groups of the 1970s, lies in the way they change the face of the everyday world by offering practices, associations and social bonds that re-integrate the moral and ethical perspectives of practical rationality.

In the end, this account of ideology is a fairly Hegelian story of the breakdown of practical rationality and its re-integration in social transformation. Ironically, while this account of ideology is designed to be Post-Marxist in its rejection of "cultural dopes" and the superiority of the critic, it also leads us back to the fundamentally Marxist idea that overcoming ideology requires nothing less than the transformation of the social world itself.