A major problem for the left, before, during and after, “the Wisconsin Uprising” is sectarianism, I am convinced. It undermines a basic strength. As I concluded in the past “heat and light” post: “After the fall of Communism, the strength of the left is its diversity, its turn away from dogmatism. Understanding what different actions, movements and institutions contribute is crucial.” It was with this view in mind that I read the discussions here and on my Facebook page on Chad Goldberg’s recent post. Here is a dialogue blending the two discussions.

I appreciated Vince Carducci’s Deliberately Considered comment, even though I wondered how he decided what is radical:

“This discussion is really getting to some good ideas, helping to move beyond the knee-jerk facile reactions to the recall. I think there’s value in both positions, though Henwood is more radical (which I have sympathy with) and perhaps as a result more reductive (which I don’t like so much). Chad Goldberg brings important firsthand experience into the discussion. I do think there’s another aspect to Fox Piven and Cloward’s book that he overlooks. It’s true that the legislative process was crucial to the success of poor people’s movement in the end, but the central thesis of the book is that the substantial gains are usually made *before* legislation not really in tandem. The legislative process, Fox Piven and Cloward assert, is the way in which the grassroots movements were mainstreamed and thus brought under control. So in this regard, I side with Henwood to a certain extent. However, even as a strategy of containment by the so-called powers that be, the fact that the legislative process embedded progressive ideals into the mainstream is important. Examples include: the creation of the Food and Drug Administration, fair labor laws, the Civil Rights Voting Act, and in fact the provisions of labor into what Daniel Bell termed “the Treaty of Detroit.” I’d like to suggest a framework within which both perspectives might be brought, specifically Jean Cohen and Andrew Arato’s work in Civil Society and Democratic Theory. I modify their points to get some alliteration in there as follows: The four “I’s” of social movements. The first “I” is identity, individuals “coming out” whether in terms of sexual orientation or in this case class identity. The second is inclusion, or as OWS has put it, “We are the 99%.” The third is influence, and in this case there’s no doubt that the broad trend of which Wisconsin has been a crucial part changed the discourse within the public sphere. The final one is institutionalization, which is essentially the codification of the progress, as documented by Fox Piven and Cloward, into formal norms that we call laws. It’s this crucial area, which is the realm of legislation but also regulation and judicial process, that is the most difficult to achieve. The labor movement has played a major role, though not always, in pretty much all of the progressive achievements of the last century. The failings are what Henwood is focusing on, perhaps too much. But I do think they are worth taking into account, especially his characterization of what amounts to the spoils system in American labor unions. Naomi’s graphic that illustrates this post is something we all should study. It suggests the work that needs to be done. And all of us need to participate.”

George Finch, on Facebook, also focused on the question of institutionalization of protest and its implications:

“… I haven’t read Poor People’s Movement for some time now, but their contention was that mass movements and disruptions made needed legislation possible as a way to “shut people up” to put it crudely. To say, ‘protest movements have historically been most successful when disruptive protests worked in tandem with—not as an alternative to—electoral volatility.’ is a tad misleading, specially the term “in tandem’. If anything they were saying such movements brought about change, not legislative campaigns or electoral politics. I believe Piven also notes that soon a reaction occurs and the legislation becomes watered down…This is what occurred with labor law through first the Taft-Hartley law. Unions then were more legislative orientated as many are now, and got whupped. I really can’t comment on Wisconsin as I wasn’t there, and you really have to be there to get a feel about what is the best strategy. But from my 30 years of organizing experience at different levels, a priority and one base is getting ‘people support’ and also going against the grain through creative disruptive tactics, which no doubt is tricky and to well thought out ( and not repetitive) . There are other matters and strategies as well, and the Right has been doing it very well for almost 40 years now. They are more savvy about organizing than the left or progressives and the like.”

Getting “people support” is crucial in a democracy. I, as the author of The Politics of Small Things, agree with Carducci and Finch that the creative force of direct social action and protest is crucial. But having an effect requires official action.  As Vince noted there is a tension between the dangers of cooptation and the need to institutionalize change.

Bob Perillo underscores the dangers of my position. He writes on Facebook:

“Jeffrey: I respect your position, but I don’t share it, and on several levels. First, the possibilities you see, I don’t see. In fact, just the opposite. The Obama administration has engaged in a crackdown on OWS that would have had liberals shrieking had Republicans done it (coordinated arrests across the country, HR-347, the strip-search rule, etc.). OWS and other social movments may move Obama to change his rhetoric at times (particularly from now to Novemeber), but his actions against these movements are simply repugnant and indefensible. More importantly, having a Democrat with “liberal” bona fides (real or imagined) in the White House has provided corporate power with a priceless asset that openly right-wing Republican administrations have never been able to deliver: the capacity to co-opt, confuse, and demobilize social movements. At a time when global corporate capitalism is imploding, and the response of the rich is to exploit the crisis in order to force everyone else to make the kinds of concessions they could never think of demanding otherwise — that is to say, at a time when popular uprisings are not only possible but practically inevitable — the ability to demobilize social movements is critical.

Wisconsin is a prime example. The anti-war movement is another. One can only shake one’s head in morbid admiration as people who vigorously protested Bush’s warrantless wiretapping remain silent about, or actually express support for, Obama’s administration that he’s running a death squad out of the Whiter House.

It’s not that I want Romney to win. But one shouldn’t dismiss the value of actually having a “progressive” opposition to the executive branch again.”

And I agree there is value in progressive criticism. But opposition doesn’t make sense to me. I write this the day after Obama moved forward on undocumented young adults. Not perfect, but a definite advance. This and much more suggests to me that while criticism of specifics makes sense, opposition doesn’t, but I do respect Perillo’s position, as I don’t agree with it.

In most fields of human endeavor, increasing computerization has been accompanied by some kind of critical evaluation of the possibilities that technology affords and those that it forecloses, of the potential good or harm that attends technological mediation. But in music, arguably the field of human experience most profoundly transformed by the new digital technologies, this type of examination has yet to take place. Rather, it seems that if the technology provides a specific capability, it is inherently good, or it must become the new standard. I am not suggesting that there is nothing worthwhile in the new musical situation – it would be difficult, having worked in the music business for many years, to mourn a system that limited the range of music possibilities that reached the market or that routinely denied creative artists the financial rewards of their work. But to claim that new developments are inherently democratic or that they constitute a form of freedom obscures, rather than illuminates, the underlying social conditions and aesthetic ramifications. Music’s material integration with the new technology has been largely accomplished. The question is whether or not technological mastery itself is becoming the dominant criterion of aesthetic value.

Corynne McSherry, intellectual property director of the Electronic Frontier Foundation, recently appeared on CounterSpin (1/6/12) to talk about SOPA (the Stop Online Piracy Act). In the course of her remarks, she made a concise statement of the prevailing common sense:

“… what’s also troubling is this claim that you hear over and over, that in our brave new world, artists can no longer survive. And that’s empirically untrue. In fact what we are seeing is that more people are more able to get their creative expression out to a broader public than ever before. And the artists that are taking advantage of new technologies are doing just fine. The folks that aren’t doing as well are the old media companies that are committed to an old business model…. that’s organized around finding the next Lady Gaga and the next Britney Spears. But if you are in fact an artist or if you’re a musician you have all kinds of new ways to reach out directly to your public and you don’t need a production company to do that anymore.  And that’s fantastic for artists.”

Talking to musicians presents a much more complex picture of their changing conditions of work, one that challenges the happy narrative of artistic freedom and democratic access projected onto new technological means.

Contrary to McSherry, most of the creative musicians I know are not “surviving” if that means being able to make a modest living from their work, while the big media companies seem to be doing “just fine.” For musicians, there is less work and the work that is available doesn’t pay well.

While concert tours may still be lucrative for those at the very top of the pay scale, a well-known Latin and jazz drummer told me that the going rate for club dates in Manhattan has dropped steadily over the last few years and is now less than half of what it used to be. The painful joke among established alternative-rock musicians in Washington, DC is that playing music is becoming a hobby rather than a profession. Touring opportunities are shrinking, as ticket prices soar, and other sources of funding for music festivals have almost disappeared in Europe and elsewhere.

According to a prominent producer of jazz, Latin and world music, 80% of the professional recording studios in NYC have closed, as musicians are expected to produce music on home computers, shrinking their potential income from studio work of all kinds, including commercial jingles and sound-track recordings. These sources of income for individual musicians are not replaced by online sales of music or the exploitation of licenses for performing rights, and it’s only going to get worse. The song you downloaded on iTunes for $.99 nets $.70 for the record company, much less for the artist (unless s/he owns both the song and the recording).  Streaming the same song from a service like Spotify generates only a fraction of a penny in revenue. And of course, a great deal of music online is free.

What the Internet has afforded the big media companies, on the other hand, is the minimization of risk. Major record companies used to produce hundreds of albums a year in the hope that 2 or 3 would be hits. Now, they simply pick up bands that already have a proven, indeed quantifiable, audience. What’s more, they have outsourced their Artist and Repertoire (A&R) departments, which used to be responsible for recruiting, developing and investing in new talent. So of course they’re still looking for the next Lady Gaga, but rather than taking the trouble to troll the clubs and listen for something fresh or exciting, they’ll find her pre-packaged and risk-free online. A&R decisions at most major companies were often terribly constrained, but at least there was room for a different kind of judgment than the unforgiving quantization of the Internet.

In addition, while the major companies have lost sales of material product and direct sales to consumers, they have now more than made up for it in business to business licensing, primarily in advertising and other forms of sponsorship. The Performing Rights Society for Music in the UK claimed that “non-physical” earnings represented 41% of music company revenues last year. The effort to control copyright is linked to this growing profitability. But arguments that the elimination of copyright is somehow an inevitable outgrowth of the kinds of artistic freedoms afforded by the Internet, or that it would wrest control from the major companies without consequences to artists, are deeply flawed.

For instance, Vince Carducci wrote here:

“The objection to all of this, of course, is the claim that to allow unfettered access to the creative productions of others is to prevent them from realizing their right to the fruits of their labor. The functionalist reply is that in fact very few creators actually own the right to profit from their work, which instead is usually held by the distributors.”

If Carducci means distributors proper, as in companies that buy music from producers and sell them to retailers, then the claim is patently false – the only rights distributors have to the product is the right to sell it.

If he’s using “distributors” in a more general sense of “producers” or anyone who is not the artist, per se, then the claim is wrong on other grounds. To the extent that the big media companies represent only a small fraction of the (most profitable) musical groups and more and more musicians are self-produced, they most often retain the rights to their work.

But if we go back to the subtext of McSherry’s remarks, something besides accuracy is at stake. What does it mean for an artist to be doing “just fine”? Making a living? Making good art? Or is it a function solely of a deployment of specific technical means? And how shall we categorize musicians: according to their aesthetic aspirations or their ability to realize them, or based on whether or not they have mastered the new technology? What if their art requires different technical capabilities, ones not afforded by cheap digital sound recording in a DIY basement studio? Further, is immediacy, the ability to reach one’s public directly, an inherent social or aesthetic good? Or does it privilege those with technological competency over others whose primary skill is making music?

In One-Dimensional Man, Herbert Marcuse argues that in a technological society, the traditional link between art, philosophy and science is severed. Art becomes subordinated to technics, “beautifying its business and its misery.” (239) The more our “common sense” associates artistic success not with aesthetic criteria but with the utilization of specific technical means, the harder it will become to reverse this relationship and, as Marcuse suggests, use art in the scientific and technological transformation of the world.

I am often accused of being an optimist. I write “accused” because I take it as a mistaken characterization. I think it suggests that I am naïve and unrealistic. And as it happens, I don’t think I am naïve or unrealistic, and don’t feel particularly optimistic. I actually have a rather dark view of the human prospect, one of the reasons I am more conservative than many of my friends and colleagues. That said, I do know why people think I am an optimist. It is because I understand my intellectual challenge to be to find the silver lining within the clouds, to try to find ways in which it may be possible (even if unlikely) to avoid the worst. Thus, my study of the politics of small things, which started with the proposition that after 9/11 “it hurts to think,” and also thus, my investigation in my new book of the possibility of “reinventing political culture,” showing that political culture is not only an inheritance that constrains possibility, but also one that provides resources for creativity and change.

In Reinventing Political Culture, I make two moves: I reinvent the concept of political culture and I study the practical project of reinventing political culture in different locations: Central Europe, the Middle East and North America. I plan to use the book to structure a deliberately considered debate early in the new year.  At this year’s end, I thought I would highlight some past posts which examine the power of culture and the way I understand it pitted against the culture of power, which also exemplify the course we have taken this year at Deliberately Considered and a road we will explore next year.

First, there is the link between small things and the power of culture. In a small corner of Damascus we observed people creating an autonomous world for poetry. Clearly the present revolution there is not the result of such activity, though it did anticipate change. But I think such cultural work makes it more likely that the post authoritarian situation will be democratic and liberal.

I am convinced that art as art, rather than art as propaganda is crucial to the power of culture. Quality rather than political purpose, conveying a partisan message, is the fundamental basis of the power of culture. The independent value of cultural work makes it most politically powerful, informing our understanding of the world, helping us see alternatives. This is the case near and far, now and then.

Yet, I know that the instrumental use of cultural quality, wit for example, can be powerful, most clearly revealed in satire. Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert have helped me survive our maddening times. I became a Daily Show – Colbert Report junkie as a way to maintain my sanity after the re-election of George W. Bush. But Colbert and Stewart’s shows are so powerful because of the excellence of their work itself. Thus a cultural highpoint in television history was Stephen Colbert’s White House Press Corps roast of President George W. Bush (video below). He speaks truth to power, on the cultural grounds of humor. A big surprise is how this humor still is so important during the Obama years.

I think when it comes to the power of culture text is more important than context. But context still can matter. Much of what we say makes sense only when we consider where we say it and with whom. Thus I appreciate the posts by Vince Carducci on Detroit, its art scene and its meaning.

Vince and I disagree about the role of propaganda in art. He thinks, drawing upon his readings of the Situationists, and other radical cultural theorists that all art is one kind of propaganda or another. I think, drawing upon such imaginative writers as Czeslaw Milosz and Milan Kundera, that art, when it is art, is not propaganda. I know that I am shaped in my judgment by my intensive experience in the culture of Central Europe, while he is shaped as he is by his experience in his home town, as its troubles intensely reveal  the crisis of global capitalism and its culture. I think that neither of us knows the truth, that our debate opens deliberate consideration of the power of culture, as an alternative to the culture of the powers.

This has been an ongoing debate this year at Deliberately Considered in the posts linked here but in many others. I hope we will continue in the New Year. Do have a happy one. I am not particularly optimistic, but, as Leszek Kolakowski once put it, I “hope against hopelessness.”

In recent posts, Vince Carducci examining the urban environment in terms of psychogeography, derive and detournment, and the gift and potlatch, explored the art of Detroit, the city at the epicenter of Fordism and ground zero of post – Fordist devastation. While I think his inquiry is illuminating, showing art playing an important role in democratic society, I am skeptical about his political utopianism, as he stands on the shoulders of Marx and the Situationists and Ken Wark’s account of them. I don’t think that the full power of the artwork is captured as a critique of capitalism or that the full political significance of the work is in its message. We disagree, once again, on art as propaganda and how art becomes politically significant.

Artwork, and the world it creates when appreciated, is, in my judgment, more important than context. The art, its independent domain, is where the action is, which is then related to a variety of different contexts. To be sure, Carducci shows how this works. Detroit artists don’t only speak to each other, creating work that communicates for themselves and their immediate audience. They speak to the de-industrializing world, providing insights, suggesting an alternative way of living. But this can work in many different ways, not necessarily tied to political programs of the left or the right or the center.

Take an example drawn from two past posts: Ivo Andric novelistic depiction of The Bridge on the Drina inspired Elzbieta Matynia to reflect on the way that bridge, connecting Serbia and Bosnia, provided a space for interaction between people from elsewhere, at the kapia, the public square on the bridge, enabling civility. Her account, in turn, inspired me to reflect upon the bridges I observe on my daily run through the public park that was the Rockefeller estate, and provided me with critical perspective for thinking about the devastation of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan last year. Andric’s novel informed Matynia’s cultural theory, which gave me insight into everyday life, helping me confront a major natural and man made catastrophe in Japan, which, of course, was far from the world of Andric’s creation. The metaphor of the bridge opens up an imaginative field that moves freely.

I think it is this opening that is key to the role art plays in a democratic society. Art as art, art for art’s sake without elitism, is about the development of imagination, in form. It informs opinion, which potentially makes democratic deliberations more fruitful.

Thus, as Paul A. Kottman draws upon the works of Shakespeare to gain insight into the character of presidents past, he seeks to understand the birthers’ convictions about President Obama. “Just as nothing is going to count for Othello as evidence that Desdemona loves him, nothing will ‘prove’ to the ‘birthers’ that Obama and the civic world he represents are trustworthy.” Shakespeare is not a Republican or a Democrat, obviously, but he can inform democratic judgment, about the destructive power of skepticism of the other.

And Cecilia Rubino uses theater to remember and commemorate in a theater piece, dramatically confronting the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire, while Judy Taylor uses mural painting to remember and commemorate Maine’s labor history. Taylor was commissioned to do this work. Rubino is committed to the political project of labor. For one, the work is a result of a market transaction, for the other, a matter of political commitment. But in both, the work speaks beyond the market and commitment. It opens imaginative space. The removal of the Taylor’s mural from public display is a scandal because banishment closes. It is repressive, beyond left and right.

The opening of imagination that is art is sometimes tied to a political cause and sometimes it has little or nothing to do with politics. But the opening itself serves democratic ends. It battles against cliché.  It enriches public life and human capacity. Sometimes, this has immediate political meaning and consequence. Vince and I are different, but not really in opposition, in that he seems to especially value the immediate and I prefer distance.

In upcoming posts, we will explore art that informs public imagination more slowly, less directly: Daniel Goode on listening creatively in New York. What I find most striking about his mini-reviews is that they show how listening is a way of thinking, providing insight. The insight is politically significant, even without any specific political end. And this is not about elitist institutions and sensibilities, high art as the grounds for philistine status acquisition, as I think a post or two on the rap scene by another new DC contributor, Lisa Aslanian will show.