Politics,recognition,and personality: Selfhood and social change in late modernity

Two insightful and in some ways interrelated volumes by Jerome Braun, and Odin Lysaker and Jonas Jakobsen, focus on the multifarious pressures faced by social agents negotiating rapid social change in modern times, and the impact that such change has on moral character and the politics of recognition. As I shall discuss later, the content of these volumes overlaps in some ways with the work of Charles Taylor and Jürgen Habermas, among others, who are trying to account for how social agents today navigate a fine line between commitments to secular values of instrumental reason and individualistic self-realization on the one hand, and the values of communitarianism and a commitment to transcendentalism on the other. In what follows, I outline the key themes raised by these two books, along with some critical commentary. The essay then turns to a brief appraisal of how each of these books contributes to thinking about social agents and their communities as they negotiate complex social forces such as self-identity, multiculturalism, and secularization and postsecularism, in what Anthony Giddens describes as late modernity, a time of continuous technological and industrial change that is disrupting long-held patterns of work and family life. As social theorists including Barry Smart (1992) and Peter Wagner (1994) have also argued, the modern project offered much in the way of progress and liberation, but these promises have been bedeviled in many instances by what Weber called the irrationality of rationality. The two volumes discussed here offer a number of insights into the social transformations threatening the modern project today.

In Democratic Culture and Moral Character, Jerome Braun presents a collection of essays and reflections that aim to investigate the challenges undermining values in democratic, industrialized societies, including the prevalence towards narcissism (p. 15). According to Braun, this ‘culture of narcissism,’ previously outlined by Christopher Lasch, is pervasive and can be found in many social institutions and modern mass movements. These include politics (pp. 39–41), relationships and marriage (p. 55ff.), the attitudes and motivations of elites and political leaders (providing one explanation for how a business celebrity such as Donald Trump can have a significant impact on the 2016 US presidential election, p. 48), the media and entertainment industries (p. 49), and as a component of nationalism (p. 69). Braun works at the nexus of social and political theory and social psychology. His goal is to examine how democratic societies can achieve some form of consensus between psychological drives based on narcissistic individualism as promoted by modern consumer culture, and the virtues and social values that are necessary to sustain a democratic, open society that allows for personal freedom and the flourishing of all, regardless of their background. Braun provides the example of the politician in a developed nation. In what way can we ensure that he or she represents the common good and everyone in the constituency equally, while balancing a commitment to powerful interest and lobby groups who finance election campaigns and help the politician to remain in office? In short, Braun asks, in an age of narcissism how do we ensure that the politician works for his or her fellow citizens rather than for him- or herself? And is this even possible in a democratic culture that promotes individualism (p. 11)? This is only one example from Braun’s argument, which he teases out over the course of more than 200 pages, but it sums up the contradictions that lie at the heart of the modern, democratic polity that Braun wants to investigate.

Braun claims to employ a social evolutionary model and outlines how different stages of social development produce specific pathologies in the personality. His three broad social stages on this evolutionary scale are prefeudal, feudal, and postfeudal societies. These have existed historically, but Braun contends that some modern nation-states retain high levels of social or cultural baggage from previous epochs, such as Europe, which he contends exhibits many feudal customs and attitudes. America is an example of a postfeudal society, based on high levels of individualism and a frontier mentality (pp. 127–128). The psychological pathologies that each of these social formations create are anxiety in prefeudal societies, paranoia in feudal societies, and narcissism and schizophrenia in postfeudal societies.

Braun also argues that in modernity two types of political system are prominent, democratic and nondemocratic, although societies with either of these may continue to harbor feudal or even prefeudal social structures. These political systems also influence the individual personality. Democratic and nondemocratic polities can produce high levels of narcissistic or authoritarian personality types, respectively. Furthermore, specific social crises can lead to psychological pathologies, including narcissism and paranoia. Braun, drawing on the work of Erich Fromm (p. 24) and other social psychologists, aims to show how social systems, and the political culture of nation-states, generate the pathologies that are often such a challenge to policy makers and social-service and health-care professionals. For example, he mentions that America’s high levels of individualism are often at the root of narcissistic tendencies, noticeable in social agents at various class levels, whereas Western Europe’s communitarian political system encourages higher levels of mental illness such as depression (p. 7).

Regarding nationalism, Braun intimates that the narcissistic tendencies that he has identified in democratic societies go some way in undermining democratic processes because such processes are manipulated by those with large amounts of economic and political capital. Here Braun’s analysis dovetails in some respects with that of John Ralston Saul, who suggests that self-interest, rather than the kinds of disinterested objectivity that should be the hallmark of any democracy worthy of the name, is today a driving force in the political arena where participation by citizens takes second place to the political posturing of those with abundant resources who are able to capture the political arena for their own ends (Saul, 1997: 10, 37). Saul thinks that our current malaise springs from a sense of powerlessness that many in society today feel; a powerlessness that comes from a lack of adequate knowledge about the social processes that have allowed a neoconservative ideology to become dominant. Nonetheless, for Braun, it is not only the narcissism of those in power that has allowed the democratic system to be hijacked, so that social services are wound back and wage earnings kept at stagnant levels. Rather these are the outcomes of the narcissism of a good many individuals who have swapped their higher ideals for the instant gratification of consumer goods and the offerings of the entertainment industry (p. 80). Thus, a great deal of what we take today for nationalism is little more than a form of what Braun calls ‘mass soccer hooliganism,’ whereby the majority are prone to quick-fix solutions to pressing national problems, including unemployment, a lack of funding for social services, and cuts to welfare provision. In such a situation, and here I am extending Braun’s line of reasoning somewhat, migrants and other vulnerable members of the community become scapegoats, whereas the managers of economic liberalism and corporatism are never brought to task (p. 83). The protests of a number of right-wing groups in Europe today in response to the influx of refugees are a case in point here.

Pragmatism, especially in the United States, is another issue that Braun assesses through the critical lens of exploring a culture of narcissism. As Braun points out, pragmatism can be effective for creating situations of real gain and practical problem solving, but it ‘can easily degenerate into mere hedonism’ and even lead to ‘nihilism and despair’ (p. 90). In Braun’s opinion, this is because the call to practical action in the face of social problems can manifest itself as compulsion in the private sphere. People who are used to looking for solutions will inevitably turn to any solution they can find when things are going wrong, including drug abuse and consumerism. Pragmatism needs to be founded on values, and if such values are nonexistent then pragmatism will devolve into self-interest; a self-interest for power for the elite, and for escapism for those at the bottom (p. 91). Braun is concerned that in the United States pragmatism is undergoing a crisis of confidence. It has been reduced to a description of a philosophy of action only, and runs the risk of being ‘more like a mirror for society than a lever for changing it’ (p. 101). Underlying this is an anxiety that the state and individuals alike cannot be relied on to deliver real solutions to ongoing social challenges and national problems. Steering a course out of this malaise is an urgent task.

Finally, Braun provides a perspective for helping us to understand the anti-politics that is today sweeping through a number of democracies. The popularity of Republican candidate Donald Trump and Democrat Bernie Sanders in the 2016 US presidential election primaries, and the rise of self-proclaimed socialist Jeremy Corbyn to the leadership of the Labour Party in the UK, among other examples of populist leaders, is symptomatic of the feelings of disillusionment being felt by many people in industrialized societies who have watched helplessly as those in big business have wreaked havoc on the global financial system and continued to reward themselves lavishly, whereas working- and middle-class voters have had to survive in an environment of stagnant wage growth, precarious employment opportunities, costly higher education, and cuts to welfare services under the banner of austerity policies designed to balance national budgets. For Braun, this is a recipe for disaster in societies where narcissistic tendencies have fed an expectation that people can allay their anxieties through consumption. When high levels of consumption are threatened by financial failure, individuals are ‘left awash in a sea of confusion and unfulfilled desire, and as a result blaming’ (p. 128). This blaming can manifest itself in individual acts of violence, but the rise of outsiders to the center of the political stage shows another way in which citizens can express their displeasure. Thus, based on Braun’s analysis, it can be said that a lack of control over their economic situation is being translated by citizens into a grasping for control over the political scene and the rise of the protest vote (p. 129).

Braun’s schema of prefeudal, feudal, and postfeudal societies and the psychological problems that each can generate is interesting, and his analysis does a good job of fitting a number of nation-states into it. It also serves him well as an explanatory backdrop for understanding a number of modern psychological pathologies. However, its breadth and lack of specifics tends to lead to generalizations in the analysis, and it would have benefited from a sustained discussion of the contradictions it produces. For instance, Braun claims at one point (p. 52) that people from Mediterranean and Middle Eastern cultures display high levels of emotionalism whereas those from Northern European countries repress emotions in an effort to maintain social distance. These are mentioned as reactions to the spread of American-style entertainment industries that may, the author argues, give rise to narcissism in parts of the world where it may not have been experienced before. In general, although each chapter of the book consists of a self-sustained argument, it might have been worthwhile if the author had provided a clearer connection between each chapter to show how they build towards the book’s principal thesis. The book also contains a number of stylistic inconsistencies and editorial oversights that detract from the flow of the discussion. But overall, Braun offers useful insights for understanding the moral dilemmas inherent in a capitalistic culture that promotes self-interest and competiveness above communal concerns and individual well-being.

We shall return to Braun’s arguments below after outlining the main thrust of Lysaker and Jakobsen’s Recognition and Freedom, a collection of essays on the work of Axel Honneth. Readers of Honneth’s work on recognition will be familiar with his main points, starting with his analysis of Hegel’s thoughts on recognition. Hegel argued that human subjects, and their communities, seek recognition from others to provide them with a sense of acceptance and self-worth. This recognition is particularly sought by those who occupy lower levels of the social hierarchy. Honneth utilizes these ideas as the basis of his theory of recognition, which he has set out in a number of well-received books, including The Struggle for Recognition: The Moral Grammar of Social Conflicts (English language edition 1995), The I in We: Studies in the Theory of Recognition (2012), and Freedom’s Right: The Social Foundations of Democratic Life (2014). For Honneth, recognition involves three forms, including love, respect, and esteem. Love is primarily gained in the private sphere of the family and the home, whereas respect is found in institutional settings and the public sphere. Esteem is produced by the recognition of one’s talents and abilities, specifically in the areas of production and work. These forms of recognition are applicable not only to individuals, but to communities as well, especially minority groups who seek recognition in the wider society. This volume begins with a good introduction by Lysaker and Jakobsen to the main themes in Honneth’s work, and the evolution of his thought, a theme that is returned to in some of the essays. For example, Lysaker in his chapter outlines how Honneth’s thinking has moved beyond an early, heavy reliance on Hegel to include a Heideggerian framework. Lysaker suggests that Honneth’s tripartite view of recognition as consisting of love, respect, and esteem is underscored by an existential recognition that ‘serves as their transcendental condition’ (p. 151). Furthermore, in their introduction the editors outline the place that Honneth’s theory holds in debates about liberal political thought, especially in relation to John Rawl’s seminal work, A Theory of Justice. For Lysaker and Jakobsen, Honneth’s thought offers a number of countervailing positions to those held by many working in the liberal tradition. In his chapter on this topic, Raffnsøe-Møller argues that, for Honneth, individual freedom in liberal thought is understood as nonsocial and nonpolitical. This means that individuals and their life projects are overemphasized whereas social contexts of constraint and mutual recognition are underplayed. This leads to an overemphasis on the law as a protector of individual freedoms and rights, which furthermore means that contracts and rational discourse between individuals become paramount. But Honneth stresses that individual freedom is communal and social, and it is realized and practiced through recognitive processes in actual social contexts of conflict and diplomacy (pp. 101–102).

These points are a good lead into a more detailed discussion of some of the chapters in the book. The first is Honneth’s chapter, ‘Education and the democratic public sphere.’ Honneth assesses public education as a conveyer of the ideals and values that underpin democracy. Honneth argues that education and democracy were once understood by thinkers such as Kant, Rousseau, and Durkheim as being intricately connected, but over time philosophers and public education departments have abandoned these connections: ‘Political philosophy today seems to have lost the insight that a thriving democracy must continually reproduce the cultural and moral preconditions of its own existence by way of general educational processes’ (p. 19). At first, this could be put down to the splintering of academic disciplines, such as political theory and educational studies, which have subjected these topics to sustained specialized research, but Honneth claims that something more fundamental is at stake here. He puts the demise of critical thinking about the important connections between education and democratic values down to two major sources. The first is the idea that education does not in fact promote democratic values in the first instance, but rather that these come from prepolitical sources such as family upbringing; second, he suggests that the now widespread view that democratic states must retain a stance of neutrality when delivering social services, including education, means that the promotion of democratic ideals in educational curricula has been left to one side (pp. 21–22). The reason for this trend stems in part from an overemphasis on what is often called ‘political correctness’ (although Honneth does not use the term), and the bias towards a view that public education should be about forming skilled workers rather than thoughtful citizens. He mentions the drive in the United States and Europe for greater levels of statistical measurement of school performance as an indicator of the prevalence of this development. For Honneth, a possible solution to the problem of dissociation between democratic values and school education lies in Durkheim’s views on education (and by Dewey through a different approach). For Durkheim, it was not so much the teaching of democratic theory to students that enables them to fulfill their task of promoting democratic ideals, but student activity during school. As Honneth sums up Durkheim’s views, through active participation in the school community and with their peers ‘pupils should be habituated early on to acquire the spirit of democratic enquiry’ (p. 28). And Honneth has some good news for us on this score. He has found that public education in Finland employs a vision of education close to that outlined by Durkheim and Dewey, and he reports that Finnish schools are often cited as having high levels of academic achievement. Of course, how the issues he raises in this chapter are to be addressed in many other countries remains to be resolved.

Space here precludes a detailed examination of each chapter of the rest of this volume, and so a selection of contributions will be singled out. The first examines social class and work from a reading of Honneth’s theory. In ‘Recognition, solidarity, and the politics of esteem,’ Arto Laitinen discusses how the introduction of a basic income, or a social wage, might allow for a greater sense of solidarity among all citizens of welfare states where those receiving welfare benefits might be subjected to feelings of shame or stigma, whereas those lacking such benefits might not be able to contribute to social production. Laitinen is interested in Honneth’s notion of esteem, which derives from positive reinforcement from others in light of social agents’ unique talents and achievements. Unlike the other two categories in Honneth’s theory of recognition, respect, and love, which should be unconditional (p. 59), Laitinen points out that esteem is based on the contributions that we make to society, and in some part is reliant on our abilities and how we put them to use. Esteem is built up from the feedback we receive from others in light of our input to specific areas of social life, be they art, science, life projects, or in our daily jobs at places of employment or in the home. Furthermore, Honneth links social solidarity in the Durkheimian sense to esteem. In societies of organic solidarity, interdependent exchange between persons takes place and social agents attain esteem and a sense of self-esteem (see pp. 60–61). For those, however, outside of this relationship, a social wage provided by the state to all citizens regardless of their income means that all are able to contribute to whatever degree they choose to, therefore overcoming the problem of a lack of esteem and a sense of inferior self-esteem for those who cannot participate due to unemployment or other social barriers. However, Laitinen considers an unintended consequence of the introduction of a social wage: might it not devalue the work of some because they are receiving a citizen’s wage whether they contribute to social solidarity or not? Laitinen thinks that this is not a problem, because for some time a great deal of social labor, such as household work and childrearing, has been unremitted, and those who engage in cultural, intellectual, or artistic work without being adequately compensated. All in all, Laitinen provides some interesting critical insights for how Honneth’s idea of esteem can be realized in actual social contexts, and raises some apposite points as we enter a phase of capitalism that is being dominated by robotics, digital automation, and the disruption of the workplace by information technology.

In ‘Contextualising religious pain,’ Jonas Jakobsen discusses struggles for recognition by religious minorities from a Honnethian perspective. His focus is on the protests that followed the publication of offensive cartoons of Mohammad in the Danish periodical Jyllands-Posten (p. 169). In particular, Jakobsen is interested in the response by academic Saba Mahmood, who argues that the images were offensive largely because of the way in which Muslims not only revere the prophet, but also try to emulate him in their daily lives. He is a moral exemplar, and becomes in some ways an intricate part of their lives and part of their bodily habitus (p. 172). Muslims in this case were exposed, therefore, to a form of ‘moral injury.’ Furthermore, Mahmood, according to Jakobsen, touches on the tensions that exist between religion and secularism, and her conclusion is that secular societies such as Denmark need to show greater sensitivity to Muslim beliefs. For Jakobsen, however, Mahmood’s analysis could be used to include not only the Islamic religion, but all faiths, as well as secular values that people commit to. Mohammad may well be a moral exemplar for many, but for many others so are Jesus and the Buddha. Mahmood’s views, therefore, lack contextualization (pp. 175–176). For Jakobsen, utilizing Honneth’s theory of recognition provides alternative avenues for understanding the furor that the cartoons created. Jakobsen writes that if we look at the outrage over the cartoons from the point of view of recognition, it is evident that it is not only religious sensibility that is at stake here, but also a conflict about due recognition of one group’s (religious) identity in a secular society (Denmark) with Judeo-Christian roots. The case is an example, therefore, of what Honneth calls ‘misrecognition,’ and is underpinned by moral injury not because religious sensibilities have been offended, but because the self-respect and self-esteem of Muslims have been called into question vis-a-vis the social majority (pp. 177–178ff.). The protests, in this reading, constitute part of a struggle for recognition. Furthermore, Jakobsen suggests that European Muslims in particular have been subjected to what Honneth calls ‘disesteem,’ whereby a person or group’s way of life is denigrated. Again, this is a struggle about recognition as opposed to a religious debate only. For Jakobsen, this disesteem has taken place in the public sphere of Danish society, a sphere reserved for debate about a range of social issues. At this point Jakobsen’s discussion could have been further supported by briefly considering Jürgen Habermas’s (2006) essay, ‘Religion and the public sphere.’

The volume closes with a previously unpublished interview with Honneth by Morten Raffnsøe-Møller (p. 260). In this interview the interlocutors cover a range of issues from Honneth’s work, considering in particular his book Freedom’s Right and how it sits with the rest of his oeuvre. Regarding the issue of freedom, Honneth reinforces his view that freedom is central to understanding the seismic shift in thought and social practice ushered in by modernity: ‘There are hardly any institutions of significance in our society, in which the constitutive rules cannot in some way be interpreted as freedom promoting or freedom realising. Thus, there is a strong case for assigning freedom this central role’ (p. 261). Freedom of the individual, therefore, is what marks out modern society as being different from previous social orders, which did not have a strong sense of individual freedom but still valued notions of justice.

Overall, this volume is an excellent addition to the growing body of work on Honneth and his contributions to social and critical theory. It does a particularly good job of applying his theoretical perspective to a number of specific case studies from diverse social settings, and utilizing key sociological categories such as class, ethnicity, and religion in discussions of the wider implications of struggles for recognition. One detail about this collection of essays, however, that a sociologist cannot but notice, is the book’s lack of specific chapters dealing with recognition and issues of gender and sexuality. It would have been beneficial for this volume to have engaged in a more sustained and critical way with issues of gender and sexuality, and their relevance in discussions of recognition, especially as issues of same-sex marriage unions, transgender identity, and ongoing inequalities in domestic and labor settings between men and women are paramount in many contemporary societies.

What do these two volumes offer to current discussions about the state of play in late modernity? As social scientists debate issues as diverse as self-identity, multiculturalism, and secularization and postsecularism, the public spheres of many nations are awash with diametrically opposed views on these and a number of other issues. Furthermore, military conflict in the Middle East, mass migratory flows into Europe, economics in the time after the global financial crisis, and divisive political rhetoric in the United States adds to an ever growing sense of flux and anxiety in the face of rapid and seemingly uncontrolled social change spurred by technology and other forces, all examples of trends relevant to what Charles Taylor calls ‘the malaise of modernity.’

Although originating from different academic areas, these two books provide substantial intellectual resources in their efforts to make sense of our current condition, without of course holding all the answers. Moreover, these volumes will also be relevant to those interested in the work of Jürgen Habermas and Charles Taylor, the joint winners of the 2015 Kluge Prize. Habermas has a long-standing interest in the public sphere and the power dynamics at play within it. He argues that religion can no longer be relegated to the private sphere, but rather that the religious beliefs of social agents should be taken into account in public debate (Habermas, 2006). Such a position has significance for the arguments being made by Braun and Honneth. For Braun, democracy can only work when social agents are able to think critically beyond the narcissistic tendencies encouraged by capitalist consumerism. Thus, the public sphere needs to be more than a marketplace of goods; it must reflect a variety of moral positions. Thus, religion and moral issues, in the United States as elsewhere, will continue to have an important impact on political debate, and the inability to reach a consensus from conflicting views will be an ongoing issue. Charles Taylor’s work also has relevance here. The issue of freedom of religion in ‘a secular age’ is a central one for finding solutions to a range of entrenched political and social conflicts in areas such as multiculturalism, migration, and secularism. And freedom of religion should be read here as more than freedom for mainstream religions, but also includes freedom of belief across a range of positions of faith and skepticism. For Honneth, as studied by the contributors to Lysaker and Jacobsen’s volume, the public sphere is a central locus for the struggle for recognition. It is in the public sphere that conflicts over recognition arise, and it is in this space that they need to be resolved: ‘The public sphere depends on mutual recognition between its citizens so that everyone can participate on par with one another’ (p. 155). Thus, the public sphere needs to be understood as more than a space for simply exchanging information and forming opinion and consensus; it is also a social space where moral issues come to the forefront. Taylor argues that a similar point can be made about the modern social imaginary – it too serves as something that goes beyond a shared sense of identity, and is imbued with values and moral criteria. There exists, for Taylor, an order of mutual benefit that holds between moral agents (Taylor, 2004: 21–22). Thus, in modern societies where individuals are feeling increasingly alienated from the democratic process due to the perceived corruption and nepotism of elites, while at the same time feeling threatened by the disruption of new information and production technologies based on electronic wizardry that few of us understand, and which is taking place against a backdrop of increased social pluralism, both the countering of narcissism, and the struggle for recognition, become paramount.

For the authors of these two volumes, therefore, what is at stake today is the understanding that greater levels of solidarity and recognition are necessary to counter the high levels of narcissism and elitism pervading many industrialized societies. Moreover, each volume directs our attention to the pressing challenges confronting democratic states from a range of sociological categories, including religious and ideological divisions, persistent (and in some cases growing) class and gender inequalities, and ethnic misrecognition fueled by fears over migration. In mapping out and contributing to a number of such issues, the authors provide useful insights for those involved in researching these challenges and searching for solutions.