This article reviews Moishe Postone’s basic concepts, particularly his notion of “temporality.” An invaluable resource for this consideration is the spring 2020 issue of Critical Historical Studies and the associated conference organized to honor Postone’s legacy. I examine the notion of time with respect to socially necessary abstract labor in production as well as the time necessary for the completion of financial circuits. I explore the role of money in the extraction of surplus as well as its concealment and extend the discussion of fetishism of commodities to understand its ongoing cultural force. I apply the notion of “fetishism of money” to analyze modern financial innovations in order to understand how the political implications of money can best be revealed and mobilized. Drawing from Marx’s Capital, particularly volume 3, I conclude that finance, such as derivatives, cannot be a new source of value, despite its appearance of autonomous self-expansion.
{"title":"Postone’s Legacy: Capitalism and Time","authors":"A. Davis","doi":"10.1086/719126","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/719126","url":null,"abstract":"This article reviews Moishe Postone’s basic concepts, particularly his notion of “temporality.” An invaluable resource for this consideration is the spring 2020 issue of Critical Historical Studies and the associated conference organized to honor Postone’s legacy. I examine the notion of time with respect to socially necessary abstract labor in production as well as the time necessary for the completion of financial circuits. I explore the role of money in the extraction of surplus as well as its concealment and extend the discussion of fetishism of commodities to understand its ongoing cultural force. I apply the notion of “fetishism of money” to analyze modern financial innovations in order to understand how the political implications of money can best be revealed and mobilized. Drawing from Marx’s Capital, particularly volume 3, I conclude that finance, such as derivatives, cannot be a new source of value, despite its appearance of autonomous self-expansion.","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"9 1","pages":"1 - 34"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2022-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"41510652","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
In the first decade of the twentieth century, a novel concept—minority—exploded globally. Previously used to refer to childhood, the term also now described nondominant religious and ethnic groups. This conceptual innovation—hardly value neutral—marked a shift in how states related to their subjects and territories. While the Minority Treaties imposed by the League of Nations on new Eastern European states are often seen as inaugurating the global debate over minority rights, activists from Cairo to Dublin and Delhi to Xinjiang debated these for a decade prior to 1919. This article examines the first minority rights debates in the Middle East, over the status of Egypt’s Christian inhabitants in 1911. Rather than viewing minority status as an imperial imposition or imitation of a European idea, the article demonstrates how it emerged as a response to the creation of a sectarian “Great Islamic State” under the aegis of the British occupation.
{"title":"“Minorities Are Like Microbes”: On Secularism and Sectarianism in English-Occupied Egypt, 1882–1922","authors":"Hussein Omar","doi":"10.1086/719128","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/719128","url":null,"abstract":"In the first decade of the twentieth century, a novel concept—minority—exploded globally. Previously used to refer to childhood, the term also now described nondominant religious and ethnic groups. This conceptual innovation—hardly value neutral—marked a shift in how states related to their subjects and territories. While the Minority Treaties imposed by the League of Nations on new Eastern European states are often seen as inaugurating the global debate over minority rights, activists from Cairo to Dublin and Delhi to Xinjiang debated these for a decade prior to 1919. This article examines the first minority rights debates in the Middle East, over the status of Egypt’s Christian inhabitants in 1911. Rather than viewing minority status as an imperial imposition or imitation of a European idea, the article demonstrates how it emerged as a response to the creation of a sectarian “Great Islamic State” under the aegis of the British occupation.","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"9 1","pages":"63 - 102"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2022-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"45450324","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
This article situates Trump in the context of what Daniel Bell called the New American Right and analyzes the mass or group psychological basis of his charisma. Originating with McCarthyism, the New American Right was a reaction to the New Deal—a defense of the “real,” that is, rural, America against urban elites and immigrants. Richard Hofstadter’s famous characterization of the New American Right as “paranoid” drew on the Frankfurt School yet remained essentially descriptive. To deepen Hofstadter’s idea, I utilize Melanie Klein’s distinction between the paranoid (schizoid) and depressive (intersubjective) positions. This distinction helps clarify the difference between the mass psychologies of right-wing and left-wing movements, including in our time. By describing Trump’s relation to his followers, I explicate the paranoid basis of his movement’s violence and provide some clues to its underlying dynamics. Finally, I identify the liberal antagonism to mass movements as a weakness in the struggle against Trumpism.
{"title":"Donald Trump and the Paranoid Position","authors":"E. Zaretsky","doi":"10.1086/719127","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/719127","url":null,"abstract":"This article situates Trump in the context of what Daniel Bell called the New American Right and analyzes the mass or group psychological basis of his charisma. Originating with McCarthyism, the New American Right was a reaction to the New Deal—a defense of the “real,” that is, rural, America against urban elites and immigrants. Richard Hofstadter’s famous characterization of the New American Right as “paranoid” drew on the Frankfurt School yet remained essentially descriptive. To deepen Hofstadter’s idea, I utilize Melanie Klein’s distinction between the paranoid (schizoid) and depressive (intersubjective) positions. This distinction helps clarify the difference between the mass psychologies of right-wing and left-wing movements, including in our time. By describing Trump’s relation to his followers, I explicate the paranoid basis of his movement’s violence and provide some clues to its underlying dynamics. Finally, I identify the liberal antagonism to mass movements as a weakness in the struggle against Trumpism.","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"9 1","pages":"133 - 157"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2022-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44357648","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
As participants in political and workplace protests, middle-class employees (MCEs) were overrepresented during the 18 days of the Egyptian uprising of 2011. This is quite surprising, because the democracy movement that called for the uprising had limited organizational capacities that could not have mobilized these sectors, and MCEs historically constituted the social base of the Egyptian regime. By the 2000s, however, the decline in state institutions that tied MCEs to the regime had intensified, aggravating their grievances. I argue that those MCEs who were able to build formal organizations or had joined the democracy movement were mobilized through a formal path, while those who did not joined spontaneously. Spontaneous action here was institutionally structured. It built on preexisting informal networks and prior experiences in both workplace and work-related anti-regime protests. The democracy movement thus created an opening for already aggrieved and mobilized MCEs to join the uprising.
{"title":"Middle-Class Employees in the Egyptian Uprising of 2011","authors":"N. Matta","doi":"10.1086/719124","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/719124","url":null,"abstract":"As participants in political and workplace protests, middle-class employees (MCEs) were overrepresented during the 18 days of the Egyptian uprising of 2011. This is quite surprising, because the democracy movement that called for the uprising had limited organizational capacities that could not have mobilized these sectors, and MCEs historically constituted the social base of the Egyptian regime. By the 2000s, however, the decline in state institutions that tied MCEs to the regime had intensified, aggravating their grievances. I argue that those MCEs who were able to build formal organizations or had joined the democracy movement were mobilized through a formal path, while those who did not joined spontaneously. Spontaneous action here was institutionally structured. It built on preexisting informal networks and prior experiences in both workplace and work-related anti-regime protests. The democracy movement thus created an opening for already aggrieved and mobilized MCEs to join the uprising.","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"9 1","pages":"103 - 131"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2022-03-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"47996785","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
In 1971 E. P. Thompson introduced the idea of popular disturbances related to the high price of bread as articulations of a moral economy embodying conceptions of social justice. Adam Smith is treated as representative of a new political economy opposed to these conceptions, which in time subdued this “moral economy.” Thompson’s construction of a moral economy remains valuable, but he was mistaken in his approach to political economy. Thomas Robert Malthus is a more fitting representative than Smith. It is shown that Malthus’s propositions about population and inequality rested on his theological beliefs, not on argument and empirical analysis. In addition to elaborating the “market ideology” that Thompson refers to in passing, it is shown that it is possible to integrate social historical and conceptual argument, not simply favor one over the other.
1971年,e·p·汤普森(E. P. Thompson)提出了与高面包价格有关的民众骚乱的概念,作为体现社会正义概念的道德经济的表达。亚当·斯密被视为一种新政治经济学的代表,与这些观念相对立,这些观念最终压制了“道德经济学”。汤普森对道德经济的建构仍然是有价值的,但他在政治经济学的方法上是错误的。托马斯·罗伯特·马尔萨斯是一个比斯密更合适的代表。马尔萨斯关于人口和不平等的命题是基于他的神学信仰,而不是基于论证和实证分析。除了详细阐述汤普森顺便提到的“市场意识形态”之外,它还表明,将社会历史和概念论点结合起来是可能的,而不是简单地偏爱其中一个而不是另一个。
{"title":"Moral Economy and Market Order","authors":"K. Tribe","doi":"10.1086/716338","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/716338","url":null,"abstract":"In 1971 E. P. Thompson introduced the idea of popular disturbances related to the high price of bread as articulations of a moral economy embodying conceptions of social justice. Adam Smith is treated as representative of a new political economy opposed to these conceptions, which in time subdued this “moral economy.” Thompson’s construction of a moral economy remains valuable, but he was mistaken in his approach to political economy. Thomas Robert Malthus is a more fitting representative than Smith. It is shown that Malthus’s propositions about population and inequality rested on his theological beliefs, not on argument and empirical analysis. In addition to elaborating the “market ideology” that Thompson refers to in passing, it is shown that it is possible to integrate social historical and conceptual argument, not simply favor one over the other.","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"8 1","pages":"139 - 172"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2021-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"42718531","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
This comparative historical study examines the three main frontier regions of phosphate rock from the period after the US Civil War until World War II: the American South, French North Africa, and the South Pacific. Imperial states mobilized nature, labor, and capital in the frontier regions to cheapen the rock enough to galvanize fertilizer manufacturing and the budding chemical industry in the metropoles. The unit of analysis of nineteenth-century chemical fertilizer is the international division of labor—of a generalized wage labor force in the metropolitan centers and coerced labor in the frontier regions and of energy flows from the commodity frontiers to the metropolitan farming regions and the buildup of life chemicals in soils and waterways generations later. In the post-2009 era of food security fears with volatile fertilizer prices, this article addresses the question of how and why commercial agriculture systems began to use and depend on phosphate fertilizers.
{"title":"Phosphate Rock Frontiers: Nature, Labor, and Imperial States, from 1870 to World War II","authors":"Marion W. Dixon","doi":"10.1086/716521","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/716521","url":null,"abstract":"This comparative historical study examines the three main frontier regions of phosphate rock from the period after the US Civil War until World War II: the American South, French North Africa, and the South Pacific. Imperial states mobilized nature, labor, and capital in the frontier regions to cheapen the rock enough to galvanize fertilizer manufacturing and the budding chemical industry in the metropoles. The unit of analysis of nineteenth-century chemical fertilizer is the international division of labor—of a generalized wage labor force in the metropolitan centers and coerced labor in the frontier regions and of energy flows from the commodity frontiers to the metropolitan farming regions and the buildup of life chemicals in soils and waterways generations later. In the post-2009 era of food security fears with volatile fertilizer prices, this article addresses the question of how and why commercial agriculture systems began to use and depend on phosphate fertilizers.","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"8 1","pages":"271 - 307"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2021-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"47811402","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
In the nineteenth century, Karl Marx theorized the listed public company as the apogee of the capitalist mode of production, its “highest developed” form. A century later, in establishing shareholder-centric frameworks of corporate governance, Western policy makers effectively institutionalized this conceptualization, inasmuch as it was assumed that listed-public entities was indeed what most significant corporations either were or would become. During the long period when it was dominated by a handful of publicly listed Western “supermajors,” global fossil-fuel (coal, oil and gas) production, or what I term “carbon capitalism,” broadly conformed to type. Yet, beginning with the rise of the OPEC producing powers from the 1960s, the dominance of the listed public company model inexorably started to wane. That waning has accelerated, and taken new forms, in the new millennium, heralding the end of carbon capitalism as we knew it. This article examines the nature and implications of this ongoing transformation.
{"title":"The End of Carbon Capitalism (as We Knew It)","authors":"Brett Christophers","doi":"10.1086/716341","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/716341","url":null,"abstract":"In the nineteenth century, Karl Marx theorized the listed public company as the apogee of the capitalist mode of production, its “highest developed” form. A century later, in establishing shareholder-centric frameworks of corporate governance, Western policy makers effectively institutionalized this conceptualization, inasmuch as it was assumed that listed-public entities was indeed what most significant corporations either were or would become. During the long period when it was dominated by a handful of publicly listed Western “supermajors,” global fossil-fuel (coal, oil and gas) production, or what I term “carbon capitalism,” broadly conformed to type. Yet, beginning with the rise of the OPEC producing powers from the 1960s, the dominance of the listed public company model inexorably started to wane. That waning has accelerated, and taken new forms, in the new millennium, heralding the end of carbon capitalism as we knew it. This article examines the nature and implications of this ongoing transformation.","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"8 1","pages":"239 - 269"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2021-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"48293856","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
When France’s liberal July Monarchy took power in 1830, there were immediate calls to abolish slavery. In the ensuing debate, commentators proceeded from the assumption that the labor of the same colonial population—whether enslaved or free—should remain integrated within a substantially continuous process of commodity production. Not only slaveholders but also abolitionists of many stripes envisioned the destiny of colonial society as the commodity-producing plantation—which they intended to uplift rather than end. Arguments of political opponents converged, because they were constructed in terms of racial categories whose inner structure articulated to capital, displacing its components across human bodies. Post-abolition, these racially displaced elements of capital were to be reintegrated by a quasi-educational process. This debate—engaging figures as disparate as liberal Alexis de Tocqueville, radical republican Victor Schœlcher, and slaveholding planters—specified preconditions for capitalism that surprisingly prefigured the social logic later developed systematically by Karl Marx.
{"title":"Capital, “Moralization,” and Race in the French Imperial Plantation Zone, 1830–1848","authors":"Robin Bates","doi":"10.1086/716342","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/716342","url":null,"abstract":"When France’s liberal July Monarchy took power in 1830, there were immediate calls to abolish slavery. In the ensuing debate, commentators proceeded from the assumption that the labor of the same colonial population—whether enslaved or free—should remain integrated within a substantially continuous process of commodity production. Not only slaveholders but also abolitionists of many stripes envisioned the destiny of colonial society as the commodity-producing plantation—which they intended to uplift rather than end. Arguments of political opponents converged, because they were constructed in terms of racial categories whose inner structure articulated to capital, displacing its components across human bodies. Post-abolition, these racially displaced elements of capital were to be reintegrated by a quasi-educational process. This debate—engaging figures as disparate as liberal Alexis de Tocqueville, radical republican Victor Schœlcher, and slaveholding planters—specified preconditions for capitalism that surprisingly prefigured the social logic later developed systematically by Karl Marx.","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"8 1","pages":"173 - 208"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2021-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"44812607","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
T he doctoral student Linus Recht’s long review essay about my Freud: The Making of an Illusion doesn’t read like one scholar’s impartial evaluation of another scholar’s work. Starting from a show of rigorous objectivity and a promise to avoid “armchair psychologizing or psychoanalyzing,” Recht skips lightly past a reviewer’s obligation toweigh the totality of presented evidence for the author’s claims. He soon adopts a tone of biting sarcasm as he compiles a litany of horrors— my “nonsense,” “fake scholarship,” “lies,” and “academic fraud.” The eschewer of armchair psychology concludes that my book must have been written out of “hate” and “vengeance,” deriving from “the pain of betrayal” by a once-revered Sigmund Freud. A more technical explanation of the case also comes to Mr. Recht’s mind. “Crews,” he hazards, “unconsciously introjects theworst qualities of ‘Freud,’ qualities that he then projects, furiously, back onto the historical Freud.” The reviewer extends sympathy to the human wreck whom he has thus felt obliged to expose. After that bit about introjection and projection, it was supererogatory for Recht to avow, in the penultimate sentence of his text, that he counts himself a loyal Freudian, “still among the faithful.” Psychoanalysis, he writes with more piety than prudence, “is indispensable to the essential core of the true psychology.” Indeed, so solicitous of the depth-psychological movement is this author that he conceives of his own article as an urgently needed contribution to it. As we all know, psychoanalysts have been in a collective funk for quite a while now. What could account for it? Recht’s surprising answer is—me. By purging their minds of Frederick Crews, he proposes, analysts can shake off their doldrums and revive “a psychoanalysis that can punch”: “I have found the impression unavoidable that today’s psychoanalysts are afraid of Crews. As provocation, I would
{"title":"Response to “Considering Frederick Crews’s Freud,” by Linus Recht","authors":"F. Crews","doi":"10.1086/716519","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/716519","url":null,"abstract":"T he doctoral student Linus Recht’s long review essay about my Freud: The Making of an Illusion doesn’t read like one scholar’s impartial evaluation of another scholar’s work. Starting from a show of rigorous objectivity and a promise to avoid “armchair psychologizing or psychoanalyzing,” Recht skips lightly past a reviewer’s obligation toweigh the totality of presented evidence for the author’s claims. He soon adopts a tone of biting sarcasm as he compiles a litany of horrors— my “nonsense,” “fake scholarship,” “lies,” and “academic fraud.” The eschewer of armchair psychology concludes that my book must have been written out of “hate” and “vengeance,” deriving from “the pain of betrayal” by a once-revered Sigmund Freud. A more technical explanation of the case also comes to Mr. Recht’s mind. “Crews,” he hazards, “unconsciously introjects theworst qualities of ‘Freud,’ qualities that he then projects, furiously, back onto the historical Freud.” The reviewer extends sympathy to the human wreck whom he has thus felt obliged to expose. After that bit about introjection and projection, it was supererogatory for Recht to avow, in the penultimate sentence of his text, that he counts himself a loyal Freudian, “still among the faithful.” Psychoanalysis, he writes with more piety than prudence, “is indispensable to the essential core of the true psychology.” Indeed, so solicitous of the depth-psychological movement is this author that he conceives of his own article as an urgently needed contribution to it. As we all know, psychoanalysts have been in a collective funk for quite a while now. What could account for it? Recht’s surprising answer is—me. By purging their minds of Frederick Crews, he proposes, analysts can shake off their doldrums and revive “a psychoanalysis that can punch”: “I have found the impression unavoidable that today’s psychoanalysts are afraid of Crews. As provocation, I would","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"8 1","pages":"309 - 318"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2021-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"49443137","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}
Deindustrialization was one of the most disruptive social transformations of the twentieth century. Why did democratic capitalist regimes permit and survive this process, while state socialist regimes did not? Drawing on historical evidence from the United Kingdom, Poland, and the United States, this article advances two mechanisms as explanation: first, enabled by the polity-economy distinction characteristic of capitalism, the belief that “there is no alternative” (TINA) could appear credible in the West but not the East. Second, the Western turn toward market-led deindustrialization reduced the economic costs of deindustrialization and, more important, deprived unrest in the West of focal points for protest, lowering political costs too. Strengthening the case for these two mechanisms, I rule out four alternative explanations: generic inefficiency in planned economies, differential elite views on the necessity of structural change, immediate acquiescence by Western electorates or unions, and a uniquely successful return to high growth rates in the West.
{"title":"TINA and the Market Turn: Why Deindustrialization Proceeded under Democratic Capitalism but Not State Socialism","authors":"Max Krahé","doi":"10.1086/716340","DOIUrl":"https://doi.org/10.1086/716340","url":null,"abstract":"Deindustrialization was one of the most disruptive social transformations of the twentieth century. Why did democratic capitalist regimes permit and survive this process, while state socialist regimes did not? Drawing on historical evidence from the United Kingdom, Poland, and the United States, this article advances two mechanisms as explanation: first, enabled by the polity-economy distinction characteristic of capitalism, the belief that “there is no alternative” (TINA) could appear credible in the West but not the East. Second, the Western turn toward market-led deindustrialization reduced the economic costs of deindustrialization and, more important, deprived unrest in the West of focal points for protest, lowering political costs too. Strengthening the case for these two mechanisms, I rule out four alternative explanations: generic inefficiency in planned economies, differential elite views on the necessity of structural change, immediate acquiescence by Western electorates or unions, and a uniquely successful return to high growth rates in the West.","PeriodicalId":43410,"journal":{"name":"Critical Historical Studies","volume":"8 1","pages":"209 - 237"},"PeriodicalIF":0.0,"publicationDate":"2021-09-01","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":null,"resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":"43521849","PeriodicalName":null,"FirstCategoryId":null,"ListUrlMain":null,"RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":"","ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":"","EPubDate":null,"PubModel":null,"JCR":null,"JCRName":null,"Score":null,"Total":0}