Books reviewed
Graeber,
David. 2009. Direct Action: An Ethnography. Oakland, CA: AK Press.
Scott,
James C. 2009. The Art of Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland
Southeast Asia”. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press.
Ward,
Colin. 2004. Anarchy in Action. London: Freedom Press.
A few people
have written the phrase “anarchist sociology”, but it does not really exist.
Not yet. If we seek a window into what anarchist sociology could be, we
need to imagine. In an established discipline like sociology we have to use our
imaginations to see beyond its limitations, its blind spots. I argue—as I
assume most anarchist sociologists would—that sociology's blind spot is its
myopic subject matter. The average sociologist might cringe at the suggestion
that sociology is narrow, comparable to how mainstream media narrows the range
of potential discussion, but it is limiting.
Sociology
focuses all of its attention on a myriad of institutions and interactions,
roles and organizations, trends and collectivities. We use qualitative and
quantitative methods; we use small n-size observations and huge cross-national
databases. Nevertheless, we usually seem to focus on the same things: social
problems or things that result in social problems. While this is not bad—we
clearly need to know what is going on in the world—it constrains our abilities
to see a way out of the modern madness, to chart a better path.
Anarchist
sociology ought to engage in good, old-fashioned dialectical work: critiquing
hierarchical societies, but also trying to figure out how to reconstitute that
society along more egalitarian, cooperative, and horizontal lines. So, yes, let
us focus on problems. However, I sometimes wonder if we are obsessed with this
social problems project, in a rather unhealthy, masochistic way. We have a hard
time doing the second, perhaps more important task: discovering, studying, and
advocating for social alternatives.
Why are few
sociologists prefiguring a more just, revolutionary society, or analyzing
strategies for achieving social change? Sure, some study social policy, but
they usually speak to or even for the powerful. Some are “applied
sociologists”, but they will work for whoever pays them (states, corporations,
or other bureaucracies). Even public sociology may be too vague, I fear; the
world needs transforming, better examples, and provocation.
The few who are
pursuing this anarchist sociology project rarely self-identify as sociologists.
Sure, there are many sociological works by anarchists (Emma Goldman, Peter
Kropotkin, Gustav Launder, Paul Goodman, Murray Bookchin, and others quickly
come to mind). Today, the few people who are writing scholarly works about how
to transition to a revolutionary anarchist society or studying anarchist
societies themselves are not sociologists—although they ought to be and
probably need to be sociological in the future.
In this review,
I focus on three books that do this kind of anarchist sociology: two new books,
that focus on the recent and distant past, respectively, and one slightly older
book that is time-period-neutral. Each asks questions of key sociological
concern to anarchists: what is hierarchy, how does it work, and how to overcome
it in practice? These works are scholarly books and while authored by
non-sociologists, I will show they connect immediately and intimately to the
sociological tradition (and thus ought to be appropriated). These three books
are David Graeber's Direct Action, James C. Scott's The Art of Not
Being Governed, and Colin Ward's Anarchy in Action.
These works share
a common concern for “society”—they study it and some of the attempts to
transform it—and social relationships in general. The authors consider efforts
to create societies that aspire to the above standards of egalitarianism,
cooperativism, and horizontalism. Each describe efforts to keep the state and
capitalism at bay, and how people work in the newly liberated free spaces.
These spaces are either vacated by those in power or are when the powerful have
been excluded or evicted, whether they be powerful nation-states, police, the
Free Trade Area of the Americas (FTAA), ancient states, powerful warlords, or
landlords.
Graeber and
Scott concentrate upon very different populations, but both address highly
analogous questions: communities organizing outside of state influence, using
horizontalists and directly democratic decision-making structures. Graeber
focuses upon Western activists within the Global Justice movement who, while
not always anarchists, consciously use anarchist practices (including direct
action, prefiguration, and mutual aid) to gain further autonomy from large,
bureaucratic institutions, like the World Trade Organization, International
Monetary Fund, or FTAA. Scott's book focuses upon so-called “primitive”
peoples, who are not consciously anarchist and who live outside the sphere of
the state in Southeast Asia, in a region Scott calls Zomia. While Graeber and
Scott are anthropologists by training, they address questions of deep concern
to radical sociologists, who wish to both study and reconfigure social
relationships, and thus to lessen and ultimately eliminate mechanisms of
domination. The distinct subjects these authors focus upon illustrate
deliberate and incidental paths toward anarchist sociality. Graeber considers
how anarchist and non-anarchist activists created micro-communities and
organizational structures, which permitted ideologically-consistent and
anarchist value-based action. Activists hoped that such communities and
structures could be transported and enlarged to absorb more social territory.
Scott, instead, focuses on how people avoid being “legible” to the state (i.e.
understandable, monitor-able, controllable), and how communities engage in a
variety of passive and active forms of resistance to the external imposition and
internal development of hierarchy.
Ward was also
not a sociologist (or even an academic), but a comparable intellectual mission
drove his work: to study society and explore alternative ways of acting without
hierarchy and authority. His work—much of which was formulated from the 1940s
through 1960s on the pages of the British newspapers he helped edit, Freedom
and Anarchy—is deeply indebted to the anarcho-communist Kropotkin, who
wrote proto-sociological works during his day, especially Modern Science and
Anarchism (which debated Comte and Spencer). At the time he died, Ward was
likely the most widely-read and identifiable British anarchist, and his Anarchy
in Action is a modern classic in the anarchist pantheon. Although it might
surprise some, I suspect a very large cross-section of sociologists would
appreciate this work. This is especially true for those sympathetic to critical
theoretical tendencies who would recognize the book as fitting within their
tradition. In contrast to the focused studies from Graeber and Scott, Ward
presents a strong, sociologically-informed anarchism that could provide a
theoretical anchor for the other two. Ward focuses on the theoretical matters
that the other two authors describe in empirical detail: non-coercive organization,
top-less federations, housing and residence, education, play, leadership, and
“spontaneous order”.
There are
numerous dimensions across these three books that demonstrate the potential
diversity in an anarchist-sociology. For example, each focuses on different
populations and times. Graeber concentrates on the global justice movement in
the West during the 2000s, of whom many, but not all, are consciously
anarchist. Scott, on the other hand, considers ethnic minorities in South East
Asia over many previous centuries of history, who while behaving
anarchistically, are not consciously anarchist. Ward writes a more ahistorical
study (that uses historical and current day examples), about pretty much
anybody. He mainly focuses upon Westerners who are often anarchistic, sometimes
without an awareness of this fact. Thus, a commonality across all three books
is an acknowledgment of the potential to do anarchism without having to
be a self-avowed anarchist (although I would argue that such a
self-identification ought to be a central part of anarchist sociology, since it
anchors anarchism not just in practice, but also in anarchist values and
history).
The books also
describe the creation of an anarchistic world, accomplished through diverse
means. For Graeber, anarchists behave prefiguratively to create anarchist
decision-making and action structures, while Scott's subjects are concerned
with developing methods for evading the state. Graeber's subjects appear
pro-active, while Scott's appear reactive—but I think this is only partially
correct, as both populations are acting defensively and offensively, all at
once. Ward uses examples of “seeds underneath the snow” to show countless
pathways to such a future society that parts of already exist, seeds that
simply need the proper conditions to germinate. Widely varying quantities of
social anarchist theory are present in each book. Graeber presents a bit of
this theory in his chapter on “Direct Action”, but he focuses mainly upon
exploring anarchistic practices that he connects in ad hoc fashion to anarchist
theory. Scott eschews direct connections in his book, although previous
works—particularly his Seeing Like a State—give a more deliberate nod to
anarchist influences. Of course, Ward's work is a full-on interrogation of
anarchist theory, where he extracts key anarchist precepts, values, and
practices, and then illuminates their many manifestations in society.
The kinds of
relationships described in each book vary as well. Graeber describes the extent
to which people possess social trust, mediated by deliberate mechanisms that
constrain selfish ambitions, particularly in activist “general assemblies”
where decisions are made by consensus. For Scott, trust occurs because others
who live in the hills of Zomia are equally weak and unable to dominate. Ward
describes average people as worthy of trust and by nature good, when given the
proper conditions under which to be trustworthy and good. None
collaborate or negotiate with the state (or other authority figures), choosing
to interact only with social equals. The authors also address the question of
how to avoid the stagnancy and bureaucracy so emblematic of modern life.
Graeber's activists create collective structures in which autonomy is possible,
and where spontaneity and small group initiative is welcome and essential. The
state-fleeing characters in Scott's book respond to situations and pursue their
needs whenever possible: centralized states will lose parts of their
populations to the hills if there is disease, war, tyrannical rulers, or hard
economic times. Ward dedicates an entire chapter to the anarchist idea of
spontaneous order, where people develop and negotiate social relations, plans,
and practices when and where needed, without top-down leadership.
Anarchist sociology
attempts to see past the obscurantist features of contemporary social
structure, to identify what is actually essential. There are necessary
components of human societies, but they do not have to include
centralized states, greed-driven economic enterprise, domination by certain
racial or gender groups, or other institutions of stratification. In fact, all
the needs that current systems provision (poorly, by the way) for people, may
be done in alternative ways. According to Graeber, decisions can be deliberated
in small groups (e.g., affinity groups) or larger communities (e.g.,
spokes-council meetings). Likewise, as Scott writes, people can consciously
engineer communities—in economic, cultural, psychological, even geographical
terms—that help them to avoid the centrifugal forces of both outside
hierarchies as well as forestall the development of internal hierarchies. Ward
sees the evidence (and further potential) for people to manage their own lives
and affairs, pursue their desires, and when needed develop stronger social
bonds and even create far-reaching, but non-coercive, federations with others.
These constitute a crucial intervention, because social scientists often accept
as givens, prerequisites, or essential features of human societies these very unnatural,
human-made institutions, which are in fact non-essential, like the state. Part
of the mission of anarchist sociology is to reveal the un-necessity of these
colonizing institutions and to point a way towards social practices that
accomplish the ends we seek—food, shelter, human care, community—yet without
the things that stunt or brutalize our humanity.
In summary,
there are many books—I have only reviewed three—that feature central anarchist
sociological concerns, even if they do not identify with that label. If
anarchist sociology continues to develop, it will undoubtedly take on a more
conscious and deliberate quality—an identity, as such. There are many points of
departure worth exploring in Graeber, Scott, and Ward, but a synthesis of the three
shows what I see as a key anarchist sociological question: how to develop
anti-authoritarian alternatives, which empower communities and lead to
individual self-management?
One could take
these three authors to task for downplaying or neglecting the value in both
having active, self-identified anarchists and studying explicitly anarchist
movements. Surely, an anarchist sociologist might. By missing the actual
practice of self-identified anarchists—the things they do, don't do, dream, and
oppose—we are left guessing what behavior approximates those who do not accept
that label, for whatever reason. Graeber's global justice activists seem
influenced by anarchism (or at least ideas and practices that anarchists have
adopted from others since the 1960s), like affinity groups, consensus
decision-making, and direct action street politics, but the gap between
conscious anarchist and activist acting like an anarchist is, as Graeber
himself notes, a gray area which may or may not be significant. Scott's anti-state
peasants in Zomia may identify with “anarchism” if it had meaning to them, but
it is likely just another Western philosophy that seems foreign in Southeast
Asia (comparable to a Roman emperor identifying with “fascism”). Ward's
analysis precludes worrying about what explicit anarchists do or do not do,
since he focuses on the latent anarchism residing within much of social life.
Sociologists have so rarely analyzed anarchists and the few anarchist
communities that have existed, that it may be unwise to state with certainty
what it means to act anarchistically.
Nevertheless,
is there not great value in having people act in non-hierarchical ways,
expressing solidarity, directing their own affairs, regardless of the ideology
that drives it? I think there is; yet, anarchist theory and principles helps to
ground such practice and the application of these ideas amongst those who are
trying to reconfigure their societies is still deserving of our attention. To
be clear, Graeber, Scott, and Ward all identify as an anarchists, of one sort
or another, so they do have personal experience as well as intellectual
experience with anarchism and the anarchist movement.
I think there
are many places to expand these inquiries. For example, efforts could involve
studies into anarchist movements, updating Kropotkin's analysis of mutual aid
and social solidarity, or synthesizing anarchist and sociological theorists.
Another significant project would be to apply social science research to
anarchist projects, and directly study other subjects and phenomenon that aim
to supplant hierarchical social forces (e.g., capitalism, the state,
patriarchy, White supremacy, militarism, and bureaucracy). In other words, much
more writing (and action) remains to be done.