Is progressive legislation always good for “the people”? Or is it a statist fable? A detailed analysis of the rise of the technocratic managerial class as a function of the growth (rather than the constraint) of the corporate-state:

“The conventional understanding of government regulation was succinctly stated by Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., the foremost spokesman for corporate liberalism: “Liberalism in America has ordinarily been the movement on the part of the other sections of society to restrain the power of the business community.” Mainstream liberals and conservatives may disagree on who the “bad guy” is in this scenario, but they are largely in agreement on the anti-business motivation. For example, Theodore Levitt of the Harvard Business Review lamented in 1968: “Business has not really won or had its way in connection with even a single piece of proposed regulatory or social legislation in the last three-quarters of a century.”

The problem with these conventional assessments is that they are an almost exact reverse of the truth. The New Left has produced massive amounts of evidence to the contrary, virtually demolishing the official version of American history. (The problem, as in most cases of “paradigm shift,” is that the consensus reality doesn’t know it’s dead yet). Scholars like James Weinstein, Gabriel Kolko and William Appleman Williams, in their historical analyses of “corporate liberalism,” have demonstrated that the main forces behind both Progressive and New Deal “reforms” were powerful corporate interests. To the extent that big business protested the New Deal in fact, it was a case of Brer Rabbit’s plea not to fling him in the briar patch.

The following is intended only as a brief survey of the development of the corporate liberal regime, and an introduction to the New Left (and Austrian) analysis of it.

Despite Schlesinger’s aura of “idealism” surrounding the twentieth century welfare/regulatory state, it was in fact pioneered by the Junker Socialism of Prussia–the work of that renowned New Age tree-hugger, Bismarck. The mainline socialist movement at the turn of the century (i.e., the part still controlled by actual workers, and not coopted by Fabian intellectuals) denounced the tendency to equate such measures with socialism, instead calling it “state socialism.” The International Socialist Review in 1912, for example, warned workers not to be fooled into identifying social insurance or the nationalization of industry with “socialism.” Such state programs as workers’ compensation, old age and health insurance, were simply measures to strengthen and stabilize capitalism. And nationalization simply reflected the capitalist’s realization “that he can carry on certain portions of the production process more efficiently through his government than through private corporations….. Some muddleheads find that will be Socialism, but the capitalist knows better.” Friedrich Engels took this view of public ownership:

At a further stage of evolution this form [the joint-stock company] also becomes insufficient: the official representative of capitalist society–the state–will ultimately have to undertake the direction of production. This necessity for conversion into state property is felt first in the great institutions for intercourse and communication–the post office, the telegraphs, the railways. (7) The rise of “corporate liberalism” as an ideology at the turn of the twentieth century was brilliantly detailed in James Weinstein’s The Corporate Ideal in the Liberal State. It was reflected in the so-called “Progressive” movement in the U.S., and by Fabianism, the closest British parallel. The ideology was in many ways an expression of the world view of “New Class” apparatchiks, whose chief values were planning and the cult of “professionalism,” and who saw the lower orders as human raw material to be managed for their own good. This class is quite close to the social base for the Insoc movement that Orwell described in 1984: The new aristocracy was made up for the most part of bureaucrats, scientists, technicians, trade-union organizers, publicity experts, sociologists, teachers, journalists, and professional politicians. These people, whose origins lay in the salaried middle class and the upper grades of the working class, had been shaped and brought together by the barren world of monopoly industry and centralized government. The key to efficiency, for the New Class, was to remove as much of life as possible from the domain of “politics” (that is, interference by non-professionals) and to place it under the control of competent authorities. “Democracy” was recast as a periodic legitimation ritual, with the individual returning between elections to his proper role of sitting down and shutting up. In virtually every area of life, the average citizen was to be transformed from Jefferson’s self-sufficient and resourceful yeoman into a client of some bureaucracy or other. The educational system was designed to render him a passive and easily managed recipient of the “services” of one institution after another. In every area of life, as Ivan Illich wrote, the citizen/subject/resource was taught to “confuse process and substance.” Health, learning, dignity, independence, and creative endeavor are defined as little more than the performance of the institutions which claim to serve these ends, and their improvement is made to depend on allocating more resources to the management of hospitals, schools, and other agencies in question. As a corollary of this principle, the public was taught to “view doctoring oneself as irresponsible, learning on one’s own as unreliable, and community organization, when not paid for by those in authority, as a form of aggression or subversion.” For the full article, read Kevin Carson at the Mutualist.