Introduction
Can “we” change the world? For much of human history, people accepted the world, including their own society, as a given beyond their power to control. At most, they might have sought the favour of the Gods through sacrificial offerings and rituals, for instance, in the hope of a bountiful harvest. With the rise of ancient civilisations, philosophers and historians began to raise questions and develop ideas about the course of history and societies, sowing the seeds of the view that more, or something else, than divine providence was involved. Ideas about the cyclical course of history, similar to that in nature, tended to prevail, although teleological and eschatological views (which read a purpose into the development of the world and/or expected it to end) became more common with the rise of the major world religions. However, common to all these belief systems was the assumption that humans cannot influence, let alone control, the course of history and their destiny.
The idea of progress
With the rise of the Enlightenment and modernity, the belief that people and societies need not accept the existing situation and social order, and that they could improve their lot and change societies for the better, became a fundamental tenet that inspired inventors, scientists, philosophers, and political and social movements. The idea is captured in the notion of progress, which, according to Nisbet, “holds that mankind has advanced in the past—from some aboriginal condition of primitiveness, barbarism, or even nullity—is now advancing, and will continue to advance through the foreseeable future”..”[1] Bury argues simply that the idea means “that civilisation has moved, and will move in a desirable direction.”[2] Although these authors disagree on whether the idea dates back to the ancient Greeks or emerged more recently (around the mid-18th century), they agree that the notion of human progress combines two elements: a belief in the inexorable advance of knowledge and a belief in the perfectibility of humans and societies. The accumulation of knowledge about the biophysical world, in itself (as demonstrated in astronomy, physics, and biology), was not considered sufficient to guarantee human progress. It needed to be complemented by an understanding of human societies—including politics, economics, and social patterns and developments—which were believed to be subject to general laws, like those governing the biophysical world. An understanding of these social laws would allow the perfection of societies.
This idea of progress dominated much philosophical and political thinking from the mid-18th century until the late 19th century. Although thinkers had widely different ideas about what these laws were, from economic laws governing the liberal free market advanced by Adam Smith and other classical economists, those linked to historical materialism developed by Marx, to those put forward by the early practitioners of the new science of society, including Condorcet, de Saint Simon, and Comte (who was the first to coin the term sociology) and many others, they shared a belief in human and societal progress based on the advancement of science. Even if, during this time, there were also sceptics of the idea of progress,[3] they were in a minority. But from the early 20th century, the number of sceptics in philosophical and intellectual circles increased sharply, and by the end of the century, arguably, the belief that societies were on an inexorable path of progress started to lose its grip on the general public, at least in Western countries. Future historians may well refer to the 20th century as the Age of Disillusion, well and truly supplanting the Age of Enlightenment.
Can societies be steered?
Growing disillusionment with the idea that societies were inexorably on a path towards progress led many to reflect on whether it is possible, and even desirable, to intentionally steer their course. In the social sciences, there is little agreement on whether societies can be guided or steered, and, if so, how and in what direction. Rather, there is a wide range of views and interpretations, linked to different sub-branches, ideological dispositions, theoretical perspectives, and methodologies.[4] Some of these views (notably pluralist theory) question the ability of societies to steer towards a collectively agreed-upon desirable future, while others allow for the possibility that individuals and groups (notably elites) can exercise agency and power in pursuit of what they consider desirable or necessary. Indeed, one of the key issues standing in the way of developing a theory of societal guidance is the diversity and plurality in modern societies, linked to differences in socio-economic positions, social class, interests, ideologies, values, norms, and many other respects, which makes it highly unlikely, if not impossible, to reach societal agreement on what constitutes a desirable society.
In the wake of the Soviet Union’s collapse, many social theorists seem to have abandoned the idea that it is desirable to consider how a collective vision of a future society could be developed, let alone that governments should play a role in steering societies, thereby de facto accepting the prevailing capitalist liberal-democratic order. One analyst of the ideas of four prominent social theorists of the 1990s (Anthony Giddens, Ulrich Beck, Jűrgen Habermas, and André Gorz) argues that all four appear to accept that capitalism has become the only game in town. Of these, only Gorz holds on to some socialist principles, but he also gives up on abolishing capitalism, arguing that “there is no alternative”. When it comes to protecting the environment and social welfare, these social theorists seem to believe there is no choice but to adopt a defensive approach, push for greater public participation, and/or strengthen government regulation to mitigate the adverse effects of development. Accepting the prevailing order, Goldblatt concludes, these theorists do not provide “sufficient intellectual or moral resources” for steering societies into a different and more desirable direction.[5]
Following the lead of the non- or anti-ideological pragmatists, other social scientists adopt a technocentric and technocratic approach to systems change; for instance, many who contribute ideas under the theme of transition management (TM).[6] To its credit, this stream commonly identifies sustainability as a primary, long-term goal and often takes a fairly upbeat view of its feasibility, largely because of a belief in science and technology and in the steering capability of governments and societies. Similarly, the school of ecological modernisation (EM), arguably one of the most well-known and popular among social scientists, is relatively optimistic about the possibility of moving societies towards a (more) sustainable future, again largely based on a belief in science and technology. However, although there is a diversity of sub-streams within both schools (TM and EM), with some emphasising the need for major political and economic changes, it would be fair to say that their adherents generally advocate gradual and reformist change in social, economic and political systems, alongside exploiting the scope for “radical” technological transformation in the energy, transport, agriculture, industrial and other systems.[7] The main challenge, as they see it, is to bring all the stakeholders together within cooperative governance structures that advance common goals.
However, this approach can be criticised for an overly optimistic view of the feasibility of fundamental change within liberal-democratic capitalist political-economic systems. Moreover, as argued before, such a depoliticised approach raises serious questions about the lack of democratic control over the development of science and technology, and about the likelihood that this will have unforeseeable, undesirable, and potentially highly damaging or disastrous social, environmental and political effects. Its adoption sets societies on the path towards creating (totalitarian) technocracies, a concern with considerable pedigree in social, political, and philosophical thought.[8]
While Marxist ideas about societal change, based on the assumption of intensifying class conflict and the likelihood that this will lead to revolutionary political change and the abolition of capitalism, offer the prospect of fundamental change, it is doubtful that this can still be expected. In many countries where social democracy had been a considerable political force, it has lost much of its support base, in part because social-democratic parties actively participated in the neoliberal turn. But this betrayal did not lead to a significant strengthening of other (more) left-wing parties; rather, it is the far-right that has benefited most from disillusion with the left, largely by scapegoating immigrants. But socialism is far from dead as an ideology that holds the promise of a more equitable society, recognises the importance of democracy, and has embraced the environmental cause (eco-socialism). In recent years, in some countries (notably the United States, where Bernie Sanders, a self-proclaimed socialist candidate in the 2020 Presidential election, mobilised massive support, especially among young people), socialism appears to be enjoying something of a comeback. Yet it seems unlikely that, in any liberal-democratic capitalist country, radical socialism (openly advocating the abolition of capitalism and the establishment of a planned economy) will win seats in government. Also working against this is the anti-socialist bias in the media, which keeps on depicting socialism as a bad and failed experiment.
The idea that societies can collectively and democratically steer themselves towards a self-chosen direction seems to be caught between elitism and pluralism, or between voluntarism and uncontrollable, autonomous development (determinism). On the one hand, there is much evidence to support the view that, in most societies, elites and/or a powerful and dominant social class can (and do) steer societies into a particular direction of their choosing (based on their interests or the perception thereof). On the other hand, the plurality, diversity, fragmentation, and even atomisation characteristic of modern societies make it difficult to believe that a society as a whole can steer itself in a direction collectively and democratically chosen. From the first point of view, societies are steered in a direction that primarily serves the interests of the elite(s), which are bound up with the prevailing political-economic system. From the second point of view, it seems highly unlikely, if not impossible, that society as a whole can agree on what its collective interests are and how they should guide collective policies and decisions. As much evidence can be gathered to support both views, there appears to be little scope or hope for the idea that societies can steer developments democratically in a direction deemed collectively desirable.
Power is the key
Fundamentally, the extent to which individuals or societies can shape their future is a matter of power. Although all people, unless they are in a vegetative state, have agency – the ability to make choices – their capacity to give these choices consequences depends on the power resources available to them and on their ability to use those resources (more or less effectively). The more resources a person has and the more effectively they can use them, the greater their chance of giving direction to their life, even if this does not mean controlling their future. By contrast, people with very little power have far fewer chances in life. Similarly, groups and societies differ in the resources available to them, but their ability to use these resources collectively and effectively depends not only on the abilities of individuals (although these can make a difference, notably those of those in positions of leadership), but also, and arguably even more so, on the institutions (organisations and rules) through which the resources and abilities are mobilised, developed, and used. Thus, in addition to resources, institutions play a crucial role in societies’ ability to collectively shape their future.
Power takes different forms depending on the resources it is based on. At least six forms (or categories) of power resources can be identified: physical, cognitive, personal, social, economic, and institutional. Rather than defining power foremost in relational terms and/or outcomes (the extent to which objectives are achieved), as is most prevalent in political studies, I prefer a resource-based definition of power that better accounts for the structural and distributional aspects of power, while recognising that resources must be utilised to give consequence to choices and for power to be exerted, often in interaction with other people. It must also be noted that different power resources are often used in combination, thereby enhancing their effectiveness, and that they tend to accumulate and concentrate, especially around economic power, which enables other forms of power to be bought in various ways. For that reason, economic power is arguably the most important source of power. It is accumulated and exercised by individuals, groups, and organisations (including businesses) outside the formal realm of politics, notably by hiring or employing people to give consequence to “private” choices and decisions that can affect the lives of many people.
In all societies, there has always been a tendency for economic power to accumulate and concentrate among elites, even though these elites may not be unified and may compete more or less fiercely with one another for dominance or hegemony (which means acceptance as the legitimate dominant power). They do this by acquiring other sources of power, for instance, by paying for media influence or control to shape other people’s views and preferences (cognitive power), and in the political-institutional realm, for instance, by funding policy papers produced by think tanks, hiring experts and lobbyists, funding political campaigns for themselves or others, or by donations and corruption. While history is not just about great men and wars, there can be little doubt that the choices made by powerful leaders and elites have often had significant consequences for many people’s lives. While leaders and elites may not be able to control or even shape the future of their societies in line with their aspirations, we can plausibly argue that, on many occasions, they have given direction to the course of history, although not always, or often, in ways that many people deem or deemed desirable.
The big question is whether, and if so, how societies as a whole can exercise power to steer themselves towards a less unsustainable and more desirable path. Many past efforts have failed or produced disappointing, undesirable, or disastrous results. With the rise of neoliberalism, governments in many countries have abandoned that idea and are no longer even trying to steer societies. Allowing “the market” to steer developments, many governments are floundering, with no clear idea of how to tackle the unfolding crises. Much of what they are doing amounts to sticking plasters on festering wounds, hardly softening the brutal pain caused by the “free market”, let alone addressing the sources of the problems that are steering and pushing societies and the world towards self-destruction.
Wresting economic power from the economic elites is therefore an almost impossible task as long as the existing distribution and/or command over power (resources) across different forms, including cognitive, political-institutional, and physical power, remains intact. We need to find a more indirect and strategic way of confronting economic power. Arguably, there is only one way to do this: focusing efforts on the power of the state. If power is the key to fundamental change and to steering societies in a different direction, then states hold that key.
States hold the key
If power is the key to collectively choosing society’s direction, states are the most important battleground in the fight over that key. States remain the most important political institutions in the world for three main reasons: first, despite the claim that, with globalisation, states have lost much of their power or even relevance, there is little evidence that they are fading away; second, the functions performed by states (even if in ways that may be deemed inadequate) remain crucial to meeting the basic needs of people and societies; third, states are the only political institutions through which people can address the accumulation and concentration of economic and cognitive power.
It is the concentration of economic power that holds societies in an economic stranglehold and corrupts governments (political-institutional power). Given the enormous inequality of economic power in most societies, demands for fundamental economic change tend to be ignored and have little chance of making much impact unless accepted by the state. Therefore, demands for fundamental economic change must be preceded by demands for political-institutional change. Traditionally, this meant overthrowing dictators, governments, or regimes and replacing them with leaders who are (likely to be) more sympathetic to the causes advanced by those who have mobilised the people. Revolutions, from the French, American, Russian, and Chinese to the Cuban revolution, have always been led by relatively small groups of intellectuals, activists, and charismatic and/or ruthless leaders who imposed their views on how societies should be organised and run. One may disagree with their achievements, but such revolutions have often exacted a heavy toll on many individuals, families, and societies. Not surprisingly, the idea of political revolution has gone out of fashion, which, of course, serves the dominant political-economic elites well. More recently, the idea that a revolution (or revolutions) may be needed to achieve a breakthrough in fundamental change is gaining support again. The mass mobilisations in a string of Arab countries during the early 2010s, commonly referred to as the “Arab Spring”, can be seen as a revival of the revolutionary spirit.[9]
However, whether these latest attempts have been successful in bringing about fundamental change is debatable; they may have rekindled the idea that governments should heed the views and interests of the people, but in most countries where the Arab Spring occurred, they have failed to produce fundamental and enduring political-economic change. A similar conclusion can be drawn from popular uprisings and protest movements in the United States (the “Occupy movement”), Spain (the “Indignados”), France (the “Yellow Vests”), the UK (the “Extinction Rebellion”), and in many other countries, including Belarus, Burma, and Hong Kong. These rebellions may have led some governments (for instance, in France) to grant a few minor policy concessions, but most of these movements have either fizzled out or been brutally suppressed, as in Egypt, Belarus, Burma, and Hong Kong, demonstrating that control over physical power (the army and police) still plays a key role in blocking political change. These experiences also illustrate that trying to effect fundamental change through mass mobilisation is, in itself, insufficient. More is needed.
As some analysts have pointed out, this “more” may be a persuasive and coherent programme or set of demands, supported by a broad coalition of movements, or a convincing story (view of the world) that shows that the presently dominant story is no longer believable or acceptable.[10] These suggestions hark back to Gramscian thinking, which emphasises the importance of ideas and of forging a counter-hegemonic movement (an alternative “historic bloc” comprising a broad range of societal actors, including intellectuals and organisations) in advancing an alternative view of society as the basis for political praxis.[11] Thus, this approach primarily focuses on building cognitive power (both empirical and moral) and social power to offset and overcome the dominant economic and political-institutional (state) power of elites, who also use cognitive power to maintain their legitimacy and hegemony, even though hegemony is never complete and is continuously contested.
Although I concur that advancing a shared programme for change, supported by a broad coalition of social movements, is an important condition for achieving political change, there are several issues with this approach. The first and most obvious problem is how to forge such a programme given the diversity of social movements with different causes, views, interests, and priorities. The broader the coalition or social base one seeks to build to maximise social power, the greater this challenge. Second, a relatively small group of individuals is likely to play a leading role in forging such a programme, which, even if formally endorsed by members of a broad coalition of groups, may invite accusations of elitism, bias, or neglect of minority views and interests. Third, even if a programme receives broad and strong support and is backed by powerful (mass) social mobilisation, it still needs to go through the regular political-institutional processes (involving the executive, legislative, and possibly judicial institutions) to be transformed into official policies and/or institutional changes. This means it is likely to encounter the same structural obstacles and barriers that have previously prevented the adoption of more meaningful (environmental and other) policies. This is not to downplay the importance of groups developing and putting forward proposals for change. But at the same time, we must acknowledge that other (conservative) groups do the same thing and may well outcompete the social movements in their bid to get the ear of governments because of their entrenched power and the larger pool of resources (including the cognitive power of the mainstream media) that they can draw upon. In brief, trying to effect fundamental change on a highly uneven playing field is very much an uphill battle, something acknowledged by veteran environmental advocates.[12]
Thus, rather than putting all their efforts into forging a comprehensive programme of change supported by the broadest coalition of societal groups, which is unlikely to be adopted by governments, advocates for transformational change need to take a more strategic approach, notably by focusing on key political-institutional change.
Strategic Collective Action
As discussed above, given the fundamental and systemic obstacles to democratically steering societies, collective action must focus on the state’s power. Capturing the state’s power is key to achieving systemic change. While this is not a novel insight and has been the subject of considerable debate and theoretical reflection in academic and political circles, it has often been overlooked by many social and environmental movements, which are preoccupied with fighting ad hoc battles over specific issues.
How to capture the power of the state has, of course, been a key question for opponents of tyranny, exploitation, and oppression. More or less organised, broadly supported rebellions and political revolutions have left their mark on the histories of many countries, including America, France, Russia, and China. In many cases, the effectiveness of rebellions (including those that occurred during the 2010s under the banner of the Arab Spring) in bringing about significant and durable change in the allocation and distribution of power has been doubtful or nil. Political revolutions have tended to be much more successful in this respect, but they often simply led to a change of elite(s) or ruling class, even if in the name of the people. They tended not to bring about the reallocation and redistribution of power (notably economic power) necessary to create an enduring democracy. However, despite these failures, rebellions and/or revolutions are bound to recur if political regimes fail to fulfil the functions of the state, especially when living conditions are becoming desperate. Continuing environmental degradation and global heating are likely to contribute to the destabilisation of societies and the further erosion of state legitimacy, creating a vicious circle that leads to an ever-diminishing collective capacity to halt the planetary tragedy.
But rather than staging revolutions to seize state power, I advocate a different form of strategic collective action. The approach involves a three-step process. First, it entails social mobilisation to secure state power by institutionalising popular sovereignty. This entails establishing Sovereign People’s Authorities as the supreme political institutions. Once these are in place and the balance of political-institutional power has shifted towards the citizenry, it will be possible to initiate further political-institutional changes required to protect and advance the collective interests of the people. This, in turn, would make it possible to bring about a third wave of systemic changes, including the economic system (the production system—including energy, industry, transport, and agriculture—and the economic institutions), and socio-cultural transformation (of education, the media, and science and technology systems, and others). These transformations need to be undertaken in tandem with the pursuit of global transformation, notably through cooperation in networks of like-minded states that share a commitment to the principles of popular sovereignty, democracy, sustainability, and global justice.
Conclusion
To conclude, whether it is, or might be, possible for a society (“we”) to steer itself collectively, consciously, deliberately, and democratically towards a future of its choosing is foremost a question of the distribution of power. For much of history, this question did not even arise, and societies were ruled by the most powerful, who did whatever they wanted and were primarily concerned with protecting, maintaining, or expanding their wealth and power, especially against rivals. Although nominally, the legitimacy of modern states is built on the principle of popular sovereignty, this does not mean that collective decisions are made democratically. In practice, such decisions continue to be made by the most powerful in society through the institutions of the state to which sovereignty has been transferred. To democratically steer a society, the people (“we”) will have to (re-)claim their sovereignty and create political institutions that are truly representative of the people and that have the final say over all matters deemed to be in the vital interests of society as a whole. The creation of Sovereign People’s Authorities could be a crucial step in this direction.
References
[1] Nisbet, Robert A. (1980), History of the Idea of Progress. New York: Basic Books, 4-5.
[2] Bury, John Bagnell (1921, 2010 ed.), The Idea of Progress. An Inquiry into Its Origins and Growth. The Project Gutenberg Ebook, 12.
[3] Nisbett mentions Tocqueville, Burckhardt, Schopenhauer and Nietzsche. Nisbet, Robert A., History of the Idea of Progress, 318-319.
[4] Ritzer’s Encyclopedia of Social Theory discusses more than sixty “Schools and Theoretical Approaches” Ritzer, George (ed.) (2005), Encyclopedia of Social Theory (2 Volumes). Thousand Oaks: Sage Publications, xiv.
[5] Ibid., 203.
[6] European Environment Agency (2017), Perspectives on Transitions to Sustainability, Luxembourg: European Environment Agency; Kemp, René and Jan Rotmans (2009), “Transitioning Policy: Co-Production of a New Strategic Framework for Energy Innovation Policy in the Netherlands”, Policy Sciences, Vol. 42, No.4, pp.303-322.
[7] Smith, Adrian, et al. (2005), “The Governance of Sustainable Socio-Technical Transitions”, Research Policy, Vol.34, No.10, 1491-1510; Szarka, Joseph (2016), “Towards an Evolutionary or a Transformational Energy Transition? Transition Concepts and Roadmaps in European Union Policy Discourse”, Innovation: The European Journal of Social Science Research, 1-21; Murphy, Joseph (2007), Governing Technology for Sustainability. London: Earthscan.
[8] Hendriks, Carolyn (2009), “Policy Design without Democracy? Making Democratic Sense of Transition Management”, Policy Sciences, Vol.42, No.4, pp.341-368; Scrase, Ivan and Adrian Smith (2009), “The (Non-) Politics of Managing Low Carbon Socio-Technical Transitions”, Environmental Politics, Vol.18, No.5, 707-726; Ellul, Jacques, The Technological Society. New York: Vintage Books; Postman, Neil, Technopoly. The Surrender of Culture to Technopoly. New York: Vintage Books.
[9] Wikipedia (2021), Arab Spring, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arab_Spring (Accessed: 6 August 2021).
[10] Naomi Klein makes this argument in Klein, Naomi, No Is Not Enough: Defeating the New Shock Politics. Great Britain: Allen Lane. See also Monbiot, George, Out of the Wreckage. A New Politics for an Age of Crisis. London and New York: Verso.
[11] Fontana, Benedetto (2010), “Political Space and Hegemonic Power in Gramsci”, Journal of Power, Vol. 3, No.3, 341-363; Gill, Stephen (ed.) (1993), Gramsci, Historical Materialism and International Relations. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
[12] For instance, Gustav Speth, a long-time environmental advocate, has argued that “environmentalists have been winning battles, but are losing the war” Speth, James Gustave, The Bridge at the Edge of the World: Capitalism, the Environment, and Crossing from Crisis to Sustainability. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, Loc 44.