Spectres of Pessimism: A Cultural Logic of the Worst

What I have called radical utopianism was an important concept for two of the founding figures of British cultural studies, E. P. Thompson and Raymond Williams.1 In 1976, in the revised edition of William Morris: Romantic to Revolutionary, Thompson introduced into English Miguel Abensour's concept of the "education of desire."2 This has had a profound impact on what has become known as utopian studies but has had hardly any influence on cultural studies. Ruth Levitas together with Thompson (from whom she borrowed the concept) have probably done more than most to make Abensour's formulation popular in critical work on utopianism.3Abensour, however, was almost certainly drawing on part of a point made by William Morris in a letter written in 1884. Morris writes of the teaching of desire and political organization as the two main components necessary to bring about radical change: "The means whereby this is brought about is first, educating people into desiring it, next organising them into claiming it."4 But he also writes of another form of education, what he called "the education of discontent."5 In "Art Under Plutocracy," a lecture given in Oxford in 1883, he explained, "It is my business here to-night and everywhere to foster your discontent . . . and to help in educating that discontent into hope, that is into the demand for the new birth of society."6 He made a similar point in a lecture given in Manchester earlier in 1883:The role of the education of discontent is to undermine our sense of the inevitability of the here and now, to make change conceivable and to believe that it is possible, promoting what Raymond Williams calls an "active wanting"—"Possibility, seriously considered, is . . . not what with luck might happen. It is what we can believe in enough to want, and then, by active wanting, make possible."8 For Morris, the production of utopian desire, as a result of the interrogation of the here and now from the perspective of an alternative social space, would, according to Thompson, "help people to find out their wants, to encourage them to want more, to challenge them to want differently, and to envisage a society of the future in which people, freed at last of necessity, might choose between different wants."9Radical utopianism allows us to dare to dream that the way things are is not inevitable—that is, a world arranged in the interest of the powerful few. It broadens our vision of the world and opens up new ways of seeing. As the familiar is defamiliarized, what we have learned to think of as immutable suddenly looks changeable and the capitalist dogma There Is No Alternative can begin to give way to the enabling slogan Another World Is Possible. It allows us to anticipate the possibility of a world in which the words of Percy Bysshe Shelley, to slightly misquote them, have a revolutionary insistence: "We are many, they are few."Radical utopianism seeks to free imagination from the limits placed on it by a society run in the interests of the powerful few and to know that these limits are historical. While we seem able to see the past as historical and the future as history waiting to happen, the present seems outside history: in a word, "natural." Radical utopianism makes the present historical. Understood in this way, it is not an attempt to produce blueprints of the perfect society. Given the historical variability of human nature, it is impossible to predict what a perfect society might be like. Instead, radical utopianism is a practice that seeks to teach desire and educate hope. It is not imperative, but it is interrogative and the question it continually asks is this, "Why not?" Utopian writing and utopian social practice might point to certain possibilities, but they do not dictate the outcome of historical processes. While we make history in given circumstances, we do, nevertheless, make history. Utopia is not the end of history, but it is a fundamental part of the human process of making history—a process that will not end until the human race comes to an end.In terms of its influence on cultural studies, Thompson's and Williams's utopianism, drawing on the work of Morris, has had very little theoretical or practical impact. Therefore, although utopian studies have made very fruitful use of the radical utopianism developed by them, I think it is now time that this work also found a productive place in the "post-discipline" they helped create. It feels as if the concept has been locked away for too long; kept from view, by some out of fear and hostility and by others from a failure to fully understand Karl Marx's and Friedrich Engels's critique of Utopian Socialism.10There are, however, signs that cultural studies is slowly regaining an interest in utopianism. Mark Schmitt's Spectres of Pessimism: A Cultural Logic of the Worst is an excellent addition to this recovery. But of course it is not in any way a simple act of archaeology, digging up and interpreting what has been hidden from view. On the contrary, the book is about what might be made to exist in the present and the future.Schmitt discusses utopianism in the context of philosophical pessimism as it appears in contemporary cultural theory and cultural production—a seemingly unlikely combination but, as it turns out, a very fruitful one. While it is true that there is a long tradition of people using pessimism as a means to undermine utopianism, Schmitt contends for a different relationship. Instead of presenting them as absolute opposites, he explores their connections. He articulates pessimism not as some tired and reactionary excuse for political passivity, but as something that works in ways similar to what I have called radical utopianism.He presents a compelling and convincing argument about how such thought can make a significant contribution to current thinking in cultural studies, especially in terms of radical utopianism. While Schmitt is aware that pessimism can produce political passivity, thinking that nothing can be done, he seeks to "address the tensions between pessimism and utopianism" (20), exploring how it can challenge facile notions of progress, and like radical utopianism, confront the present "reality" with alternative possibilities. Schmitt works with the productive possibility that pessimism and utopianism can positively inform each other. In this way, the book is concerned with tracing "the seemingly counterintuitive dialectic of utopianism and pessimism" (53). As both work through defamiliarization, "utopianism and pessimism can be seen as two different and sometimes even complimentary epistemological frames" (54).While too much pessimism can be politically disabling, paralyzing the will to action, without some we can often drift into a passive hopefulness, which can produce a very similar political effect—nothing can be done, giving way to nothing needs to be done. Schmitt is guided by Antonio Gramsci's phrase, "pessimism of the intellect, optimism of the will."11 Mixing philosophical pessimism with utopianism ensures that the later retains a critical edge and prevents it becoming facile optimism, producing little more than an ever-changing top ten of utopian blueprints.Over recent years I have read many books on utopianism, and this is quite simply one of the best. A very thoughtful and wide-ranging critical engagement with utopianism in the context of pessimism. While pessimism may not seem like an obvious starting point for a positive discussion of utopianism, Spectres of Pessimism has a great deal of interesting things to say about the topic and will undoubtedly make a significant contribution to the production of further work in utopian studies. Highly recommended.