The phenomenon of politician-voter divergence highlights a possible defect in human psychology.
Many economists — and some other academics — have been turning away from the narrow model of self-interest that has been the basis of economic theory, and towards the idea that humans are altruistic, as well as selfish. We all know we can feel better when we have done someone a good turn, so altruism is clearly a drive that any theory of behaviour must take account of.
What most altruism researchers have ignored, however, is the likelihood that what a person derives satisfaction from is not the improvement of another person's position as such, but the belief or feeling that they have improved that person's position.
In one-to-one interactions, the potential for divergence between belief and actuality tends not to matter. If I smugly believe I have made things better for someone, but have actually made things worse, the chances are I will soon have my mistake pointed out to me.
On the other hand, in situations where a group of people are machinating to 'improve' things for another group with whom they do not interact directly, the probability of chronic divergence can be quite high. People can spend years kidding themselves they are making things better for others, all the while feeling virtuous and morally superior; meanwhile things are getting no better for the targets of their 'benevolence', and are getting worse for everyone else.
In a democracy there is, in theory, a mechanism for (eventually) removing from power a political group whose beliefs have diverged too far from reality. However, we know that the mechanics of representative democracy are far from perfect. Major divergences between voter preferences and the actions of the political class can continue for decades before finally being brought back into correspondence.
If during the period of divergence, alternative viewpoints were suppressed or even demonised, the process of readjustment can have short-term explosive and extremist effects — rather like a boiler that has been prevented from having regular releases of pressure.
In an academic context, there are no corresponding corrective mechanisms, either in the short term or the long term. Academics are in a position, collectively, to define 'truth' and so to become effectively immune to criticism. As an organised group, they can persist indefinitely with a theoretical system that falsely claims to identify what is in people's best interests — whether those people are the population as a whole, or specific groups targeted as deserving special treatment.
The academics' theoretical system can be expanded, becoming ever more grandiose and forbidding, so that in the end it is near-immune to attacks by anyone outside academia. It cannot be criticised in detail without enormous effort, which few have sufficient incentive to undertake. In any case, there is always the defence of 'virtue', allowing academics to denounce their critics as selfish, uncaring, oppressive or worse.
Contrary to the supposed academic ideal of openness — difficult to maintain in the face of the kind of emotive moralising that seems to be increasingly de rigueur — the academic class can ensure, by means of a process of careful selection and suppression, that no critics exist on the inside either.
* * * * *
update about forthcoming book
Slight change of plan.
The 12 tropes of cultural Marxism will be preceded by an introductory critique of 'Critical Theory', entitled:
Power-Mad and Hypo-Critical:
Why humanities professors
love cultural Marxism
Why humanities professors
love cultural Marxism
which is currently in
We expect to publish 12 tropes as a sequel to this, later in the year.