Comment
The loss of utopia
It is the
lack of idealism and complacency of the west that is viewed with
repugnance
Dylan
Evans
Thursday October 27, 2005
The Guardian
Ever
since Plato, western thinkers have dreamed of ideal societies, utopias
that could perhaps never be fully realised, but which at least gave us
something to aspire to - noble, beautiful visions of what society might
one day be like. Thomas More, Tommaso Campanella, Francis Bacon and
Karl Marx all painted pictures of a future in which there is a strong
sense of community, in which work is fulfilling and leisure is used
wisely and creatively. Now, at the dawn of the 21st century, this long
tradition of idealism has all but vanished. We have no vision - just
the paltry consolations of consumerism.
Sixteen
years ago
Francis Fukuyama saw the collapse of the Soviet bloc as "the end of
history". What he meant was that liberal democracy had emerged
triumphant over all alternative forms of human government. There is
more to history, however, than government. Indeed, all the major
visions of utopia place far greater importance on more mundane matters,
such as the nature of work and leisure, and the structure of local
communities, than they do on the grand questions of governance.
More,
Campanella and Bacon all agree that everyone must work. When work is
shared out between all members of society, Campanella calculates that
each person will have to work no more than four hours a day. That would
leave plenty of leisure time, as well as energy to use that time wisely
by, Campanella suggests, attending lectures. Even Marx, who is
remembered more for his economic and political theories, started out
with a vision of everyday life in the communist society, where a person
might "hunt in the morning, fish in the afternoon, rear cattle in the
evening, criticise after dinner". By reducing history to the question
of governance, Fukuyama consigned the more difficult questions about
work, leisure and community to oblivion. The "end of history" was just
a euphemism for the end of utopia.
Visions
can be dangerous, of course. Marx's dream became, for millions, a
nightmare. In the 90s, all ideas of radical social transformation came
to be regarded with suspicion. It was as if humanity had finally grown
up, and left such adolescent fantasies behind.
But
if idealism without a dose of reality is simply naive, realism without
a dash of imagination is utterly depressing. If this really was the end
of history, it would be an awful anticlimax. Look at the way we live
now, in the west. We grow up in increasingly fragmented communities,
hardly speaking to the people next door, and drive to work in our
self-contained cars. We work in standardised offices and stop at the
supermarket on our way home to buy production-line food which we eat
without relish. There is no great misery, no hunger, and no war. But
nor is there great passion or joy. Despite our historically
unprecedented wealth, more people than ever before suffer from
depression.
The
major political parties are reduced to tinkering with the details of
our current system. Their only objective seems to be: more of the same,
only perhaps a little bit more cheaply. They have no grand vision.
It
is this complacency, this lack of idealism, that is in part responsible
for the repugnance with which Muslim extremists view western society.
When George Bush speaks of exporting democracy to the Middle East, he
should realise that liberal democracy on its own is a limp, anaemic
idea. If the west is to provide a more inspiring ideal, then it is time
we devoted more thought to the questions that Plato, More and Marx
placed at the heart their utopias; the question of how to make work
more rewarding, leisure more abundant, and communities more friendly.
This page was last updated: 10 November 2005.
|