Thoughts on Deviancy, Public Recognition, and How to be Authentic

One of Hegel’s most important contributions to philosophy was his philosophy of recognition. Put simply, Hegel thought that humans seek to be recognized as an end, not as a mere means or instrument to another’s end. Kant would call this the recognition of another’s dignity and membership in the Kingdom of Ends. Seeking such recognition is staking a claim on one’s right to be treated as more than instruments. Of course, we must treat people as instruments. We use the cashier at the checkout counter to purchase our groceries. But this relationship is based on consent, and as such we are treating each other as ends, even though this isn’t immediately obvious or part of any formal agreement.

Recognition for Hegel is more thorough than for Kant. Kant, at least Hegel claimed, failed to reconcile the universal with the particular. Put simply, Hegel synthesized the dignity of the subject with the object. Our dignity as a subjective person is only abstract apart from the embodiment of personality into objects. Hence, Hegel claimed that “property is the embodiment of personality.” Recognizing the dignity of another, then, does not occur by shedding ‘appearances’ and getting down to the subjective ‘I’ — the bare first-person or the subjective ‘pole’ of another. This is to reduce the other to a mere abstraction, which is arguably exactly what Kant’s moral philosophy does.

Our modern age is obsessed with recognition of the Kantian sort. Christians, including both Protestant and Roman Catholics, use the “imago dei” as a synonym for Kantian-like dignity. Non-believers constantly call for others to recognize the dignity of this or that person, regardless of his or her behavior. The public realm has become a place for this ‘I’ to externalize or particularize in all sorts of strange and deviant behaviors and manners. All value is placed in the ‘I’ and the value of the particulars flow from this. In other words, recognition of another is not on the basis of their behavior. Rather, because we must recognize that abstract ‘I’ as having supreme value, we must in turn recognize, even celebrate their behavior.

To my mind, this a retreat from meaning, because meaning produces insecurity. The demand to live up to something produces anxiety, and to prevent this anxiety, so people think, we must undermine the demand. Hence, we place all meaning in the abstract ‘I’ and derive from it the meaning of our external actions.

Yet what has become apparent is that this retreat from the ‘they’ or the popular standards of behavior, dress, manners, etc. is indeed a flight — it is always ‘from’ something. It defines itself against, and it will perpetually. Hence, the call to ‘be-yourself’ is a call not to be like the crowd. And yet the attempt not to be like the ‘crowd’ or Heidegger’s das man (sometimes translated as the ‘they’) is an attempt to achieve recognition from the very crowd you’re fleeing from. You yearn for their rejection. You seek recognition through rejection. You are just as tied with the ‘they’ or the crowd as before, yet now you crave negativity. It’s pathological. That’s what deviancy usually is.

Now, I say all that to say this: we ought to seek a positive recognition from others through appearances–through the particulars. We ought to seek recognition not by our ‘I’, but by our ‘I am.’ So our dress style, home and yard, our manners, etc. all these should be done and be the basis of our recognition before men. It is through their judgment that we are recognized, and we should crave a positive judgment. One ought to recognize us as worthy of being treated as ends through our manifestations of dignity, not in the abstract dignity of the ‘I’.

Now to labor. Since we seek recognition through the particulars and since the self of the producer can be embodied, in a phenomenological sense, in the product of their labor (see my posts here and here), then we have an interest in seeking recognition of our selves by the judgment of our products. Of course, this is risky, since we are subjecting our-selves to judgment. But it is necessary for a fully realized life. Marx himself said that labor results in the worker losing “realization.” My contention is that the affirmation of one’s labor as an end in itself — that it is/was worth doing for its own sake — comes through the positive judgment of others (usually the consumer). This judgment satisfies the producer and therefore restores the loss of realization.

The absurdity of our age is in our thinking that recognition must be apart from judgment and apart from appearances. And yet we are starved by a lack of completion in life. We are risk-adverse, insecure, and cannot tolerate the judgment of others. We continue to define ourselves as someone against others rather than for others. We are walking negations — pure inauthenticity.

Authentic living is understanding ourselves as in a nexus of subjects and objects — a lifeworld. As Husserl stated, “all of us together, belong to the world as living with one another in the world; and the world is our world, valid for our consciousness as existing precisely through this ‘living together'” (Crisis, 1936). To be, is to be part of, in, and enmeshed in a world: Heidegger’s being-in-the-world. It is through being with others, interacting, sharing with them, laboring with then, sharing concerns, etc. that we support and contribute to a way of life. We shape a heritage. It is not through being walking negations.

We should seek to be for others, which means seeking their recognition through our activity and appearance. We can and must be authentic, but authenticity is being constructive with our world, not deconstructive and fleeing from it.

Occupy Wall Street


How Small-Scale Producers Become Virtuous (Part 2)

Part 1 and Part 3

Marxist Alienation

I begin by discussing Marx and the implications of his ideas after the downfall of classical economics. The capitalist system, he argued, conceals from workers the fact that they ultimately “work for one another” (82). [1] To understand what this means, we must understand Marx’s interpretation of classical economics. Marx, following Adam Smith, argues that the true value of a product is not tied to its use-value or its exchange value, but the amount of labor-power expended to make it: “productive expenditure of human brains, nerves, and muscle” (51). This is “abstract labor” or the “the expenditure of labor power in general” (51), labor without reference to any particular mode of production (“concrete labor”). When the products of labor reach the exchange, the products take on an exchange value equivalent to the “socially necessary labor” time put into them. For example, if some linen tookkarl_marx-adam_smith-1 one hour to weave and a coat took two hours to tailor, the exchange ratio would be 1 to 2. In exchanging a coat, one receives two pieces of linen. There is nothing unique about this formulation; it is standard classical economics.[2] But where Marx takes this is quite innovative. He argues that this exchange conceals what is actually going on in the act of exchange. The exchange of products creates a system of relations between things, yet these things contain in them the abstract labor used to produce them. He writes (83),

A commodity is therefore a mysterious thing, simply because in it the social character of men’s labour appears to them as an objective character stamped upon the product of that labour; because the relation of the producers to the sum total to their own labour is presented to them as a social relation, existing not between themselves, but between the products of their labour….There it is a definite social relation between men, that assumes, in their eyes, the fantastic form of a relation between things.

What underlies the exchange value, and that which the exchange conceals, is the labor-power or the abstract labor exerted to make the products. Ultimately, the relationship of workers is not between things or the products of their labor, but between themselves. The exchange brings about the “estrangement of man from man.”[3] When one understands the ultimate value behind the products in exchange, he realizes that the fundamental relationship of worker to worker is not between products in exchange, but between their labor-time. Workers work for one another directly, not via the exchange of products and money. According to Marx, the realization of this concealed relationship will transform humanity’s understanding and appreciation of work.

What prevents humankind from realizing their potential in labor is a certain “Fetishism which attaches itself to the products of labour” (83). Feuerbach similarly used the term for the role that religion plays in holding back human potential. Just as humans project their potential for just and harmonious human relationships on the gods, so do humans project their economic relations upon the things or products of exchange. When the true nature of labor and its products are revealed—that is, when the workers gain a comprehensive class-consciousness—the workers will no longer view labor as drudgery and something to be avoided, but as something fulfilling.

In a capitalist system, a system in which social relationships are identified in the exchange of products, the laborer is bound to “put his life into the object” of his labor. The product has become the “objectification of labor.”[4] According to Marx, this brings about the “loss of realization for the workers” and a “loss of his self,”[5] because in the capitalist economy the product does not belong to him; it belongs to the capitalist. The worker is alienated from himself, for the product is objectified labor, and the worker has no right to the finished product. These are the conditions that a capitalist system creates: both an unnecessary objectification of labor (i.e., the life-infused products of labor) and the idea of ownership or private property. When private property is abolished in the next stage of human social development, there is no need to objectify labor in products, for the “mysterious” status placed on products at the exchange has vanished. The underlying reality has been revealed, and workers realize that, all along, they have been working for each other. They have been, in a sense, exchanging life one another; another’s giving of life rejuvenates your own and vise versa.

It is important to emphasize this point: the objectification of labor into products ends only upon the realization of the underlying reality, namely, that all productive activity is labor for others. The underlying reality is that the worker-to-worker relationship is not between things, but between themselves. The products are superfluous to the relationship and cover the true nature of labor.

Alienation after Classical Economics

Marx’s reliance on classical economics proves to be problematic for Marxist economic theory. The labor theory of value, which was integral to Smith’s and many of the 19th century economists’ theories, is largely rejected today. It even received serious scrutiny even in the late 19th century. Economist Thomas Sowell writes,

By the late nineteenth century, however, economists had given up the notion that it is primarily labor which determines the value of good, since capital, management and nature resources all contribute to output and must be paid for from the price of that output, if these inputs in the production process are to continue to be supplied. More fundamentally, labor, like all other source of production costs, was not longer seen as a source of value. On the contrary, it was the value of the goods to the consumers which made it worthwhile to incur the costs required to produce those good—provided that the consumer was willing to pay enough to cover those production costs….It is not costs which create value; it is value which causes purchasers to be willing to pay for the costs incurred in the production of what they want.[6]

Followers of Marx often fail to realize how revolutionary this was. Value is no longer considered to be a measure of production cost; and, therefore, labor does not create value. Value is determined by the consumers, not the producers. When a product’s value to a consumer is greater than or equal to the producer’s cost plus acceptable profit, the consumer purchases it. If value falls below the production-cost-plus-profit threshold, the product will not be produced (theoretically, at least).

What this means for Marx is that there is no underlying value based on abstract labor. Workers do not work for one another in the way he suggests. The exchange does not conceal social relations. Workers do not project their ideals upon products, and avoid some higher level of being. There is no fetishism of products. There are producers and consumers, and the consumers set the value. How this value is set, is difficult to answer, but what is clear is that value is not established by labor, whether concrete or abstract. Labor is an important element in cost of production, but not in value or even price. This leaves Marx without any solution to alienated labor. Indeed, it forces a reevaluation of what is actually alienating in capitalist systems. The fall of classical economics means that this “fetishism” with products of labor is not really a fetish; for there is nothing being concealed in the exchange. Hence, people do, contrary to Marx’s claims, relate to each other through the products of their labor.

This does not, however, end any possible critique of capitalism using certain classical Marxist assumptions. My view is that even after the fall of the labor theory of value there remains a certain alienation in labor in capitalist systems. It is not alienation from the “surplus value” of one’s labor, since this relied on the discredited labor theory of value. Nor is it alienation from the product. As we will see, the fact that an employer owns the product of another’s could be problematic, but is not necessarily problematic. I propose a different understanding of alienation in capitalist systems. The alienation that arises in a mass-production oriented capitalist system is the alienation of the producer from receiving satisfaction and affirmation of the meaningfulness of his or her labor from the satisfaction that the consumer receives from consuming or using the product. When the meaningfulness of work is affirmed by the satisfaction of the consumer, the work moves from being a mere means (a wage, profit, etc.) to an end in itself.

This type of alienation might not be immediately obvious. First, I’ll explain what I mean by labor as an end in itself. Labor as an end in itself refers to a certain meaning to work beyond the wage or profit in it. The end I specifically have in mind is the end of achieving the satisfaction of the consumer, not as means to ensure future profit or competiveness of the company, but for the consumer satisfaction alone. In this sense, one works for another’s satisfaction. The consumer’s satisfaction is an affirmation of the producer having put his or her “life into the object,” as Marx stated. Marx, of course, meant this more negatively, even saying that it is a “loss of realization for the workers.”[7] But what I am arguing here is that consumer satisfaction brings about both a rejuvenation of life and realizes in the producers a certain important aspect of human potential. Put roughly, another’s enjoyment of your product makes it all worth it. Your labor is no longer about only the wage or profit, but about another’s enjoyment of the product of your labor. Since your product has been recognized as useful, enjoyable, suitable, etc., your labor has been recognized as valuable, creative, and reflects highly upon you. Another’s satisfaction has shown your labor be good in itself. Work as an end in itself is tied to the producer/consumer relationship.

If I am correct, then three conditions can be realized simultaneously, contrary to the claims of Marx. 1) The relationship between worker and worker can be objectified in products in exchange. 2) Workers ultimately work for one another. 3) Labor is an end in itself, not merely a means. The idea that consumer satisfaction affirms to the producer that his labor was good labor links all three together.

The consumer is vital, because without the consumer the producer could not be confident in the meaningfulness of his labor or the value of the product. To see this, imagine a man, living in solitary for reasons outside his control, who through labor constructs some item, say, what he perceives to be an advanced ergonomically designed hammer. Since he is solitary, there is no one to use the hammer but himself. There is no one, external to him, who can affirm the hammer’s usefulness and its quality. Of course, the man can affirm this himself, but full satisfaction relies on external confirmation. The man’s creative labor is left without any external affirmation. It is like an artist making works of art yet never having it viewed by the public, never offering it for criticism. It is only in the act of making one’s work public that one both risks rejection and can receive praise. It is the reward from the risk of judgement that provides affirmation of one’s talent. Without the product of one’s work being subject to the public, the worker cannot achieve complete realization concerning the meaningfulness the work. The solitary man who makes useful things can never achieve the realization of his potential. The exchange is absolutely necessary.

In order to make this type of exchange possible, there must be private property in at least the following way: the producer has exclusive rights to the product of his labor. The reason for this is that the producer, in offering the product of his labor in exchange, is inviting others to be satisfied in the product of his labor and thereby have the meaning of his labor affirmed. This invitation for consumption has the condition of the other’s potential satisfaction. Therefore, the producer must have a certain exclusivity of rights to the product, including the ability to withhold the product from a consumer with whom the producer will not receive sufficient affirmation. To abolish private property is to abolish the invitation or, at least, force upon the producer an unconditional invitation to consume. Furthermore, the product is, as Marx said, “objectified labor.” One’s life is put into it, and as such the producer has a right to it. Being an extension of himself (of sorts), the product is the producer’s possession, not simply because of the extension of life to it, but because the rejuvenation of life that I discussed above is tied to the conditions of the invitations for exchange. Abolishing private property allows products with the imprint of human care to be tossed for unconditioned consumption. Humans have conditions for use; so should their products.

Furthermore, there must be private property because the only with private property can there be the type of exchange that opens laborers and their products to judgment. In order to be affirmed, one must take a risk of rejection. One of must bring his product, as something embodying his labor for judgment. In the least, having private property allows the best mechanism to permit the type of risk that brings satisfying rewards. Private property, then, is crucial to the affirmation of the meaningfulness of labor as an end in itself.

As we see below, capitalist systems do not always produce the conditions for this producer/consumer relationship. But this is not the fault only of the “capitalists”; the demanders, the general public, must take responsibility as well.

In Large-scale production, the workers often have simple tasks, repeatedly performed. Little thought or creativity is necessary. The managers and owners have every reason to want to give their workers simple labor: it reduces variability in outcomes. That is, it ensures consistency in production. Low variability ensures higher quality assurance. The result is a workforce that has little reason to think of their labor as being anything other than a means to an end—a wage. They have few obvious reasons to care for the products. Indeed, many would not care that consumers bought the product and immediately dumped it in the trash. Furthermore, consumer satisfaction has no meaning other than to ensure consistent employment in a profitable company. This makes affirmation of the meaning of one’s labor impossible, for the products do not contain such meaning to these producers. There is nothing objectified in the product for which the worker can be proud.

One should not exaggerate by calling this labor meaningless or a wasting of one’s life. For many workers, the means to the end is not simply the wage but a wage to support a family. It does having meaning, and a worker can be proud for working to ensure the livelihood of his or her family. But it remains the case that the worker is separated or alienated in a sense from the consumer’s satisfaction of the product. In this arrangement, the consumer’s satisfaction of the product does not make the productive activity an end in itself. The work remains a means to a wage. And as worthy as it is to earn a living, the worker remains alienated from the fullest potential of work, namely, work as an end in itself.

One can imagine a worker in such a setting being conscious of his work and what it is accomplishing. Perhaps a worker in an assembly line making well-made and inexpensive cars can put his repetitive labor in perspective by viewing it as a service. In this way, he can find meaning in his labor as an end in itself. His reasoning could be that his labor contributes to the mobility of the underprivileged, or something of that sort. But even though he has put his work in a perspective that affirms to a degree the meaning of his work as an end in itself, the product of his labor is not necessarily the fullest expression of the worker’s potential. While his labor is the “productive expenditure of human brains, nerves, and muscle” that became “embodied in” the product, it is not necessarily an expression of his creative potential. Of course, it might be. Perhaps being on an assembly line is the right place for some people, given varying degrees of creative potential. But for many it would stifle potential. So there can be, even in simple labor, consciousness of the meaningfulness of one’s work as an end in itself, but this is limited.

If there is any Feuerbachian projection occurring in these large-scale settings, it is in the workers’ fear of public judgment when their labor is presented to the public for public scrutiny. Of course, many workers have no choice but to take the type of job I’ve discussed. But if I am correct in arguing the meaningfulness labor is tied to the public presentation of the product for scrutiny, then there is risk associated with putting a “face” to a product; and risk produces fear. Human potential is then projected onto the managers and owners, who then take on the responsibility of designing and presenting the product. With this potential comes assuming the responsibility for the success of the product. That is, someone other than the workers takes on the meaning of the product. The worker is left with nothing but the wage; work is only a means to a wage, nothing more.

[1] Karl Marx Capital: A Critique of Political Economy Trans. by Samuel Moore and Edward Aveling (New York: Charles H. Herr & Company, 1906). I cite the text parenthetically.

[2] See Chapter 5 of Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations.

[3] Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts, 32.

[4] Ibid, 29.

[5] Ibid, 30.

[6] Thomas Sowell Basic Economics: A Common Sense Guide to the Economy (New York: Basic Books, 2011), 286-287.

[7] Ibid, 29.

How Small-Scale Producers Become Virtuous (Part 1)

In protest against France’s refusal to join the United States in invading Iraq in early 2003, various American conservative groups took to the streets to pour imported French wine down in the gutter. The act was, as expected, criticized, but not in the typical fashion: they were ridiculed fvintneror making a self-defeating act. After all, in order to dump French wine in the gutter, one would have to first purchase the bottle. As Alan Reynolds from the libertarian think-tank, Cato Institutes, wrote at the time, “Any French wine available to be poured down the drain is wine that has been paid for by some American. Destroying the wine after buying it does not hurt the French seller, only the American buyer.”[1] Furthermore, even before the protesters purchased the wine, the French suppliers and the American distributors had already received payment for bringing the product to retail. The key assumption of the criticism is that the producer’s interest in the product was satisfied and ended upon receiving payment for it. This represents a common view, shared by many on both the left and right, namely, that a product’s value is solely reducible to its price and that the producer’s interest in the product ends with its sale.

But, despite the silliness of these acts, the wine-defamers recognized something important that is often lost in current discussions on work and products. They recognized that certain products, typically those in which intimate and personal care went into their production, carry with them more than its price—they embody the producer’s or producers’ meaningful labor. The protesters understood that pride, tradition, and personality went into French wine production. The wine also carries with it the characteristics of the region and land from which the grapes were harvested. The wine represents not only the winemakers’ labor, but also the winemakers’ home.

The offense given and taken by dumping such wine in the gutter is not simply in the act itself, but in what the act prevents, namely, the consumption and possible enjoyment of the wine. The protesters prevented the type of consumer satisfaction that satisfies the producer. The producers intended for the wine not only to be sold, but to be enjoyed and appreciated; and by enjoying and appreciating the wine, the consumer affirms the meaningfulness of the producers’ labor. By doing this, the consumer affirms that the producer’s labor was not merely a means to a wage, but an end in itself. Much more is at stake than monetary profit.

This series of posts explores the relationship between the producers and consumers. I argue that the consumer’s satisfaction in the product is indispensable to the producer’s satisfaction in his labor as an end in itself. The sale of a product makes the production, and therefore labor, a means to profit, but consumer satisfaction affirms that the labor was meaningful as an end in itself, as something worth doing for its own sake. Their labor is revealed as virtuous.  I also argue that this relationship is possible typically only in small-scale and local production and consumption, though there can be a sense of it by workers in large-scale production. Finally, I call on the consumers to purchase the goods and services produced by small-scale production. The upshot of my argument is that it can be practiced now in everyday life. It is not an addition to life (as is charity or activism); nor does acting on my argument require waiting for some world-historical event that ends capitalism. One can practice small-scale patronage now and, if I am correct, ought to.

Part 2