In J. Roland Pennock, & John W. Chapman, eds., Anarchism: Nomos XIX. New York: New York University Press, 1978.



In Nomos XIX we set out to examine the nature of anarchism. But as soon as we try to clarify the meaning of anarchism we encounter widely disparate views. It refracts into a spectrum of doctrines. Individualist anarchists occupy one end of the spectrum, collectivists the other. Some individualists base their case for freedom on natural rights, perhaps understood as historical entitlements, against which the legitimacy of political authority is to be appraised. Others look to the power of rational calculation to integrate interests. They oppose the state more as superfluous than as immoral. Both these brands of individualism are based on confidence in the market as the source of spontaneously generated social order. Adam Smith would not feel uncomfortable in the presence of these descendants of classical liberalism. On the other hand, the communal anarchists are wont to emphasize the strength of social sentiment. And they envisage society as based on shared or common purposes, the existence or legitimacy of which the individualists are inclined to deny. Manifestly different conceptions of human nature and of the good for man are at issue. Are we rights-endowed, rational calculators; or are we designed for, and do we crave after, the warmth of emotional unification? Are we like Schopenhauer's porcupines, or are we destined for life in organic groups?

Further lines of differentiation show up among the anarchists. Some hold anarchism to be the complete absence of political authority; others see it as compatible with a minimal form of government. For still others anarchism is essentially a moral attitude, an emotional climate, or even a mood, rather than a prescription for specific social, economic, or political arrangements. Again, with reference to the individualist-communalist distinction, we find arguments that only one among the competing conceptions of the humanly valuable can be truly anarchist, while others, perhaps more tolerantly, conceive of anarchism as consisting of many species, extending from the strictly individualist to the expressivist communitarian. Hence, throughout the volume the reader may expect to meet significant disagreement as to both the nature and the institutional implications of anarchism.

After an overview of the volume's central themes we shall attempt to identify some of the critical issues that arise in the analysis of anarchism, viewed both historically and theoretically, and so to place the various doctrines in the perspective of Western political philosophy.


Part I recognizes diversity of thinking appropriately by offering several contrasting perspectives on anarchism. We open with John P. Clark's effort at definition. He discerns a theme common to all varieties of anarchist thought. "In both social and individualist anarchism . . . the view prevails that people have a great potential for voluntaristic action, and ability to overcome the use of violence and coercion." Of particular concern to Clark is that a definition take account of historical movements as well as theoretical formulations. By considering both theory and practice, he says, the error of treating anarchist doctrines as inherently unrealistic and Utopian is avoided. "The distinctive characteristic of anarchist programs is that they institute an immediate movement in the direction of voluntarism and antiauthoritarianism." Central to Clark's definitional analysis, then, is the idea that anarchism is just as much a call to action as it is a critique of the established order.

In the next chapter, James M. Buchanan presents quite a different interpretation. In apparent contradistinction to Clark's thesis, Buchanan thinks human nature too frail for genuine anarchy to be a real possibility. Therefore, we must move "one stage down" from Utopia to "ordered anarchy," which he contemplates in straightforwardly constitutional and market terms. Buchanan sees concord between anarchists and liberal constitutionalists on "the primary value premise of individualism," that is, on the moral equality of free men. The two part company, though, when this moral outlook is translated into political and social precepts.

This concern with the alternatives of minimal stateness and pure or total anarchy is continued in Eric Mack's contribution, in which he disputes Robert Nozick's proposition that a "minimal state" is a morally legitimate corrective for the inconveniences of the "state of nature." Starting from Lockean postulates, Mack affirms that it is logically impossible for any "protection agency" legitimately to impose its conception of fair procedures on those who prefer otherwise. Since consent and not coercion must be the rule, no state, however minimal, can justifiably arise.1 Moral principle points only to some kind of voluntary "accommodation" among a multiplicity of private "protection agencies." Perhaps the contributions of Buchanan and Mack license us to distinguish between anarchists and near-anarchists.

The last essay in Part I, Richard A. Falk's "Anarchism and World Order," extends the anarchists' complaints against the state and politics to the global level. Falk, like Clark, perceives anarchism as the living alternative to what he calls "statism" and "bureaucratic centralism." Indeed, he contends that anarchism's emphases on communal consciousness and transterritorial organization render it far more suitable than the national state for dealing with both community and planetary problems. Falk looks toward "libertarian socialism," toward "... a minimalist governing structure in a setting that encourages the full realization of human potentialities for cooperation and happiness."


The chapters of Part II address the issue: Is anarchism opposed to authority as such? Richard De George begins the discussion by maintaining, despite all claims to the contrary, that the doctrine does not preclude the legitimacy of every type of authority, rather only that "imposed from above." "The root problem is to provide organization without authoritarianism." This thought leads him to conclude that anarchist principles are compatible with authoritative institutions, including minimal, responsive government. Richard Wasserstrom, in his comment on De George's analysis, holds that both the spirit and the substance of anarchism are violated by even "nonauthoritarian exercises of authority." The true anarchist regards "all forms of coercive authority" as oppressive.

However, De George's thesis is upheld by Rex Martin in the following paper, in which he seeks to demonstrate that De George's controverted conclusion comes from a tension intrinsic to anarchist thought. Martin advances the logical notion that anarchists' use of moral arguments to criticize established authorities as illegitimate is inconsistent with their denial of the possibility of legitimate authority. Moral criticism presumes the possibility of corrective measures. Either, Martin contends, the consistent anarchist must hold that the concept of rightful authority is absurd and abandon moral talk about it, or he must build his case on moral foundations, thus admitting implicitly that rightful authority is at least conceivable. De George's proposal that there can be valid anarchistic authority derives from his appreciation of this implicit admission.

In the final contribution to this debate, Alan Ritter accepts De George's distinction between legitimate and illegitimate anarchist authority, but alleges he has misdescribed the distinguishing criterion. In connection with authority as ordinarily understood, Ritter says, "... even the most limited authority impedes deliberation, thus damaging what anarchists most cherish as a source of human worth." According to Ritter, for true anarchists, "justified authority must be shared by all." Hence genuine anarchist authority allows a maximum of "rational deliberation" while still preserving the peace. Moreover, "... anarchist authority, being intimate, particular and internal cannot issue directives of a legal sort." This commitment to ethical discretion as opposed to the rule of law runs contrary to the political tradition of the West, understood as freedom under rationally acceptable laws. A "startling conclusion," says Ritter. Here we come upon a critical issue on which communitarian anarchists diverge from the mainstream of Western political philosophy, whether to organize for the pursuit of communal values or to pursue individual interests within a framework of impersonal law.2


This issue of anarchists' attitude toward the rule of law is the focus of Part III. Lester J. Mazor asserts that American law is an instrument of "dominance" and hence ought to be "disrespected" and disparaged as a "means to justice." "The legal process is loaded with devices that cause it to operate primarily to the benefit of those who approach it from a position of superiority." Contempt for law is on the increase, Mazor goes on to say, and "... the ultimate result of lack of respect for law is anarchy." In her comment, Lisa Newton questions whether it is the rule or the abuse of law to which anarchists object. Holding it to be the latter, Newton then finds similarities in the anarchist and Aristotelian conceptions of community. She says the "realistic anarchist" is an "Aristotelian" who values human "autonomy" in a civic setting as distinguished from a playful "otterdom."

Alan Wertheimer, again speaking to Mazor's position, believes that he merely describes disobedience to law, which does not necessarily entail contempt for it. People break laws for purely instrumental as well as for moral or civil reasons. Moreover, provision of "public goods" is squarely dependent on coercive law, as Reusseau full well knew. "I believe it is this argument which presents the greatest difficulty for the defender of anarchy." Given the uncertainties and potential instabilities that pervade society, Wertheimer concludes that simple prudence dictates that human relations be legally grounded.


Consideration of Mazor's attitude toward law leads naturally to an examination of anarchistic conceptions of justice. For Murray N. Rothbard, a founder of the Libertarian party, the state is nothing but a "protection racket," a "Great Company" writ large.3 Accordingly, "Anarchism advocates the dissolution of the state into social and market arrangements. . . ."4 He opens Part IV by outlining a system of arbitration whereby disputes over violations of person and property may be settled without resort to the courts. In Rothbard's scheme, to which, he says, there are historical analogues, arbitration firms yield decisions enforceable by private police agencies. A radical individualist, he desires heavy reliance on market forces to further "anarchistic values of peaceful cooperation and agreement." In reflecting on Rothbard's plan, Christopher D. Stone finds a number of difficulties likely to arise in anarcho-capitalism. Of these perhaps the most critical have to do with activities injurious to the general community rather than to specified individuals; for example, environmental pollution. His argument at this point coincides with that of Alan Wertheimer. Rothbard's adversary-arbitration model seems ill-designed to cope with such collective depradations. Nevertheless, Stone believes, "... the idea of offering arbitration as a substitute for present criminal law enforcement ought to be explored further."

In the eyes of David Wieck, however, Rothbard's brand of anarcho-capitalism is just "one more bourgeois ideology" that serves to justify a "libertarian state," but has no bearing on anarchist justice properly understood. Wieck's conception of anarchy is one in which "... freedom is defined not by rights and liberties but by the functioning of society as a network of voluntary cooperation." Although highly individualistic, this society, Wieck argues, would certainly not be characterized by what he calls Rothbard's "severe individualism." For Wieck, anarchistic justice is not a matter of rationally calculating marketmen submitting their affairs to private arbitrations. Rather it integrates individual freedom and social interdependence through spirited concern for both individual independence and communal well-being.5 "Anarchism represents, as I understand it, a kind of intransigent effort to conceive of and to seek means to realize a human liberation from every power structure, every form of domination and hierarchy."6 In Wieck's opinion, "... anarchism represents, finally, not a specific social design but a moral commitment."7


Wieck's exposition of the spirit of anarchism takes us on to questions of moral psychology, the subject of Part V. Donald Mcintosh says that anarchism is "inherently collectivistic," and so is in basic agreement with Wieck on this point. However, Mcintosh presents an entirely different interpretation of the emotional and moral climate of an anarchist society. Anarchism is not the outcome of deep respect for individual independence and freedom. Rather, according to Mcintosh, a "passion for equality" inspires anarchist morality. This passion determines attitudes toward authority. "The core of anarchism is the rejection of all political authority whatsoever." But the egalitarian mentality does sanction intense "peer authority" to induce both unanimity and conformity. "The psychological prototype of the anarchist community is an adolescent gang. . . ."8 Hence anarchism is not rightly conceived as a radical form of liberalism. "Those who have espoused anarchism on individualistic grounds are in error." Rather, Mcintosh concludes, it is a species of moral collectivism, peculiar to which is "government without politics," based on an absence of personal independence, coupled with revulsion against hierarchical authority. These are the psychodynamics that Mcintosh discernsi at the heart of the anarchist quest for fraternal unanimity.

Whereas Mcintosh denies that anarchism is grounded in respect for freedom and individuality, Grenville Wall's contribution submits that it is the logical implication of what he refers to as "ethical individualism." In his appraisal of Robert Paul Wolffs defense of anarchism, he contends that Wolff moves from a mistaken conception of moral autonomy to the false conclusion that all political authority is incompatible with moral freedom. According to Wall, "ethical individualism" implies that all values are personal and subjective, and this belief, he thinks, taints Wolffs conception of moral autonomy. But given "public rule-governed activities and practices and public criteria of correctness in judgment," moral reasoning and political activity cannot be conceived as entirely lacking in objective reference. In this light, "ethical individualism," based as it is on the privateness of criteria of judgment, is "just a special case of philosophical individualism," and as such is fully as absurd as the notion of a private language.9 "Autonomy and authority are really just two sides of the same coin."

Patrick Riley continues the analysis of Wolffs anarchism. He holds that Wolffs idea of moral autonomy is not Kantian, but rather "quasi-existentialist." On Riley's reading of Kant, "autonomy is a hypothetical 'property' or 'attribute' of free will, not a substantive moral duty," as Wolff would have it. Not surprisingly, therefore, "There is no trace of anarchism in his (Kant's) political and legal theory." Indeed, a republic is required to provide the requisite security for men to perform their moral duties. Both Wall and Riley agree, then, that moral autonomy, rightly conceived, provides no support for anarchy.10

The volume concludes with April Carter's examination of the ambiguous position of "propaganda by the deed" in the anarchist tradition. She finds in anarchism an incongruity between pacifist attitudes and a heroic yearning that both condones and encourages violence. The history of anarchism reveals a persisting struggle between rationalism and romanticism. Indeed, this struggle may be inherent in anarchism, as Carter comes to see romantic violence as an "emotive necessity." This moral ambiguity may lead one to reflect back to John P. Clark's essay and to wonder whether his objective, a definition of anarchism that logically unites theory and practice, is attainable. Perhaps, at least so far as communitarian anarchism is concerned, both the felt coherence and the attraction of the doctrine ultimately derive from contrary yearnings fostered in modern society.


This overview confirms our initial observation that very different doctrines march together under the black flag of anarchism. Our authors clearly reveal a deep rift between the libertarian individualists and the egalitarian communalists. Moreover, there is striking contrast between the classical anarchists of the nineteenth century and the neo-anarchists who have recently erupted in universities around the world. The middle-class students who gave expression to patently anarchistic moods and impulses in the 1960s seem far removed from those Russians, Spaniards, and Italians who rebelled against political oppression and the, vicissitudes of industrialization.11 Is anarchism merely a label we attach to doctrines, movements, and moods so inchoate that their only unifying theme is emotive opposition to authority and hierarchy? 12 Or is there a distinctively anarchist vision of how men ought to stand in relation to their societies? Should it be the former, then thinking about anarchism in general would make no more sense than lumping together all theories that call for a state. We might have to be content with appraising anarchisms but not anarchism.

For the purpose of analytical clarification we intend to distinguish anarchism, properly so called, from those doctrines that possess an anarchistic flavoring such as Murray Rothbard's "anar-cho-capitalism," "anarcho-syndicalism,"13 and "anarcho-Mao-ism." 14 Putting these to one side, we are left with an understanding of anarchism that is well presented by David Wieck. Within its own terms, his authentic anarchism has both psychological and moral coherence. In the first place, it represents an intelligible response to the condition of modern man, faced, as he feels himself to be, with barely tolerable constraints upon self-expression and realization.15 And secondly, authentic anarchism looks toward self-fulfillment through both heightened individuality and communal solidarity. Of paramount importance to an evaluation of anarchism is an analysis of these ideals and their mutual consistency.


The authentically anarchist way of thinking about human being and relations first appears explicitly, in modern times anyway, in Herder's "populism" and "expressionism." According to Sir Isaiah Berlin, his populism consisted in "... the belief in the value of belonging to a group or a culture . . . ," and his expressionism amounted to the conviction that "... human activity in general, and art in particular, express the entire personality of the individual or the group, and are intelligible only to the degree to which they do so." 16 Berlin goes on to say Herder's ". . . conception of a good society is closer to the anarchism of Thoreau or Proudhon or Kropotkin, and to the conception of a culture (Bildung) of which such liberals as Goethe and Humboldt were proponents, than to the ideals of Fichte or Hegel or political socialists." 17

Expressionism and populism also appear in Marx's notion of man as a "species being," whose destiny it is to assume collective direction and control of his creative activities.18 In Marx's philosophy of man social guidance of productive activity transforms work into a vehicle for self-affirmation and creation, thus permitting full release of human potentialities and the overcoming of "alienation." Human relations become reciprocal and cooperative instead of competitive. As a result, the distinction between the private and the public, embedded in Hegel's division between "civil society" and "state," disappears. Men become both more deeply individualized and socialized.

As is well known, Marx did not present a systematic institutionalization of his vision. Lenin, however, in his State and Revolution did present a blueprint of the good society, one which he would later repudiate as "syndicalist nonsense." As John Plamenatz remarked, "Slavs rush in where Germans fear to tread." 19

Our view is that this conception of the good of man attempts to override the principles of balance and compromise central to Western political philosophy. Despite the inspiration that anarchists draw from Rousseau, they try to ignore his most fundamental principle: that the moral development of men depends decisively on political neutralization of their drives for power and superiority. At the core of authentic anarchism we discern a romantic and monolithic ideal of human perfectibility quite at odds with the pluralistic view of man on which Western moral and political philosophy is built.


Running through Western thinking is a contrast between two, apparently alternative, philosophies of man. In one, man is conceived as an independent agent, freely choosing and pursuing his own ends. Each person is responsible for constructing his plan of life. Law provides the framework within which individuals may seek their objectives without undue interference from others on a basis of mutual indifference. Society is nothing more than these individualized and interdependent life plans; no common human enterprise exists. In Oakeshott's words, genuinely human conduct presupposes a state that articulates the principle of societas, not the corporate principle of universitas.20 The alternative philosophy portrays men as intrinsically social; they are designed for life in society conceived as a common enterprise. On this view, there are indeed purposes proper to men as such. Life is thought of as indelibly teleological, as it was by the theorists of natural law. More recently common purposes have ranged from maximizing welfare and securing social justice to the pursuit of national grandeur and advantage.

One of our great philosophies of man, that which is at the foundation of liberalism, depicts society as a collection of rights-bearing persons, order among whom arises more or less spontaneously. Today the social philosophy, in a radically egalitarian form, is upheld by Roberto Mangabeira Unger. He thinks that human nature can flourish only through organic groups united by a corporate state.21 We shall deal more fully with his ideals later on.

It would be mistaken to regard these two conceptions of man and his good as mutually exclusive. Indeed, much social and political thought revolves around the issue as to what mobilelike balancing of the polar images best exhibits our nature. This balancing or blending of the individual and social visions depends upon pushing neither to an extreme. If one starts out an individualist, recognition of the strengths of the social conception forces modification of one's original position. Locke's acceptance of social obligations places natural limitations on the range of legitimate life plans. Classical liberals like Hayek and Oakeshott would have human sociability express itself through voluntary associations.22 The British Hegelians, T. H. Green and Bernard Bosanquet, who give priority to a common good, never completely dissolve human autonomy in that good, any more than did Hegel. From Locke to the present theorists have sought to reconcile the morality of social utility and the morality of individual rights.23

Thus the ambivalent and pluralistic nature of man has steadily pressed political and moral theorists toward mutual dilution of the paradigmatic images. Few have been willing to follow Plato or Max Stirner in adopting one at the total expense of the other. However, there is yet a third possibility: intensification and integration of the social and individual bents of human nature. The authentic anarchists concur with Herder and Marx in advocating such an "expressivist synthesis." 24


Distinctive to anarchism, as we see it, is the conviction that full and free expression of personality will generate feelings of unity and mutual responsibility that issue in moral solidarity.25 In these circumstances differences of interest and status are either minimized or disappear entirely. Expansion of selves is no longer divisive. These beliefs inform Kropotkin's ideal of ". . . individuality which attains the greatest individual development possible through practicing the highest communist sociability in what concerns both its primordial needs and its relationship with others in general."26 His idea is that expressive freedom and communal dedication are equally necessary for man to be truly human, to exhibit what Marx called a "human morality." As Richard A. Falk puts it, an anarchist society would be a "libertarian socialism." For Michael Bakunin there is no dissonance between these ideals, because "frank and human egotism"27 is fully in accord with justice and human welfare.

Of course, anarchists differ as to the optimum intensity of social feeling and cohesion. Proudhon, of whom Michael Oakeshott speaks with approval, clearly desires a less solidary society than David Wieck, who characteristically insists upon the reinforcing nature of individuality and community. There are also questions as to the size and diversity of anarchic societies. Both Bakunin and Kropotkin think of federalisms of rather homogeneous groupings, whereas the libertarian "near-anarchist," Robert Nozick, situates his rugged individualists in a variety of like-minded "utopias." 28 Unger leaves open the question whether a division of labor will occur within or among his "organic groups." 29

It is easy to see how the anarchist ideal of man is averse to law and the state. As Alan Ritter says, its conception of freedom and human worth prescribes resolution of differences through deliberation on communal purposes. Harmony, so achieved, is felt to be much more fully in accord with the high value placed on selves than would be their exposure to the rule of law, which Unger associates with "the disintegration of community."30 Indeed, even Rous-seauistic moral freedom, based upon inwardly acceptable rules, does not meet the anarchist ideal of a life worth living.31 Even Plato, who took a thoroughly social view of ,man, never entertained the possibility of entirely displacing law and government by ethical agreement deriving from spontaneous sociability. Other proponents of social man, such as Aristotle and St. Thomas, found it necessary to organize the common good by legal institutions and to protect men against their asocial inclinations. And Kant, supremely concerned for ethical freedom, founded morality in the republic of law. But the authentic anarchist has no place for either law or the state, not even when inspired by a general will for justice or devotion to the common good.

The anarchist philosophy of man, in which the individual and social paradigms of our nature are both intensified and fused, entails that we are truly human only when freely seeking to lead a consensual existence. His experiences with anarchistically minded students leads Donald G. MacRae to the conclusion that their ". . . ideal man is collective, he is social, but not social in terms of the state or any social organization. He is social in terms of spontaneous cooperation and of consensual feeling because everyone . . . knows what is good, and hence all must, in their heart, think alike." 32 All the classical anarchists, of course, had held that the great institutions of state and property frustrate our sociability and hide our natural goodness.


Charles Taylor has shown that the wish to synthesize "expressive unity," which we have identified as an inflation of the social theory of man, with "radical autonomy" is the defining feature of all forms of romanticism. Taylor holds that the anarchists, like the other romantics, disdain modern society because public life is ruled by inhuman utilitarianism and romantic expressivism is banished to privacy.33 But, as Anthony Giddens argues, anarchism does seem more rigorous than other romanticisms; it simply refuses to put up with schizophrenic compromises imposed on men by a technocratic and meritocratic society.34 Whereas socialists and Marxists, except for the advocates of self-management, compromise with the imperative of rationally structured authority, the authentic anarchist stands adamant against what he takes to be personal subordination.35

Unlike Rousseau, however, anarchists generally do not repudiate modernity. They simply insist that industrialized societies need not be run by political and economic hierarchies inimical to expressivist selves. This attitude is displayed by Bakunin and Kropotkin,36 as well as by the near-anarchist, Frederick C. Thayer, who offers some operational alternatives to the supposedly dysfunctional principles of competition and hierarchy. In an anarchistic spirit, Thayer calls for new forms of organization that would somehow articulate without compromise the "integrity of the individual" and the "integrity of the community." In his view, anarchism becomes the operational ideal of modernity, failure to implement which will bring on anarchy. After the coming revolution, "... the world of organizations will be one of innumerable small face-to-face groups characterized by openness, trust, and intensive interpersonal relations." 37


If we put aside the anarchistic moods and movements of the ancient and medieval worlds,38 the first great outburst of anarchist feeling comes during the nineteenth century in those countries that were being sharply but unevenly transformed into industrial societies, namely, France, Italy, and Spain. In Russia, antagonism to patrimonial absolutism gave birth to populism from which the anarchism of Bakunin and Kropotkin derives.39 Because all these countries were late starters, industrialization, when it came, was more painful and disruptive than it had been in England. There, neither William Godwin's rationalistic anarchism nor anarchistic sentiments ever took root. Moreover, the other countries lacked both the discipline and the resources to sustain the pace of development that Germany and the United States were to achieve. The workshop form of capitalism being bypassed, their populations encountered directly intensive industrial regimentation, the consequence of which was cultural trauma of an especially severe kind.40

The source of this trauma was the clash between the agrarian attitudes of these peasant workers and the logic of their new situation in which they were, as naked individuals, pitted against their employers and one another. Bakunin deplored both this laissez-faire individualism as well as the smothering of the individual in the countryside. Capitalism meant competitive individualism, whereas the rural emotional climate had been deeply corporate. Anarchism promised personal liberation from both of these environments. Hence Bakunin's slogan: "Liberty without socialism is privilege, injustice; socialism without liberty is slavery and brutality."41

Bakunin's ideal of libertarian socialism has not been attained in any modern society. The strain between an essentially romantic individualism and inapposite cultures continues. The conception of self implied in the "expressivist synthesis" has been largely relegated to private life while public existence has become dominated by Weberian rationality. In this light, the resurgence of anarchist feeling we have witnessed in the last decade may well be interpreted as a renewed rejection of the psychic compartmentalization imposed on modern man. This interpretation of recent anarchic attitudes is supported by David E. Apter's analysis of the "New Left's" hatred of "roles."42 Expansive selves experience the university as a "sausage-machine."43 The new anarchism, Apter says, is not aimed at the restructuring of roles, rather at their obliteration. Standardized lives are anathema to romantic personalities.

Despite a radical difference in social and economic context, then, the new and the old anarchism seem to share a common psycho-dynamic that leads to a mood of resentful rebellion against disciplined complexity. Somehow, it is felt, life should be both more receptive to individual impulse and more gratifyingly unitary.


What is the outlook for the anarchist synthesis? We notice a trend toward polarization in recent political thinking. Some liberals become libertarians, rather stridently individualistic. The "Lock-ean" Robert Nozick is a case in point. Classical liberals like Oakeshott and Hayek look upon the very notion of "social justice" as nonsensical and pernicious.44 On the other hand, institutionalized individualism and pluralism come under fire from egalitarians such as Brian Barry and Steven Lukes.45 And even the self-professed anarchists themselves divide, as we have seen, into libertarians and egalitarian communalists. Individualism and socialism tend to become stark alternatives, and integral anarchism dissolves into competing ideals. Certainly no support for an "expressivist synthesis" is to be found in the work of those who would build society on the foundations of moral freedom and justice, the centrist liberals, if we may so call them, the late John Plamenatz, Sir Isaiah Berlin, and John Rawls.

It would be rash, however, to conclude that expressivism is being abandoned. Indeed it has just received impressive formulation in Unger's Knowledge and Politics. His work warrants our attention not only because it presents a comprehensive critique of liberal psychology and institutions but also because it constitutes a unique statement as to how expressivist ideals could be institutionalized.


Strictly speaking, Unger is not an anarchist, or at least he does not announce himself as such. It does not feel inappropriate to us, however, to refer to his theoretical posture as that of modified anarchism. He is a near-anarchist, an advocate of "expressivist democracy."

Like all expressivists, Unger deplores the bifurcation of life into a private world, in which the wholeness of self is intimated, and a public domain regulated by rules and fragmented into roles.46 "Disintegration is the defining experience of the culture of modernism."47 It is his thesis that cleavage and disintegration have their origin in a fundamental error of liberalism, its presumed subjectivity of value.

Liberal moral psychology, Unger maintains, assumes that all values are inherently individualized and hence subjective and arbitrary. "The political doctrine of liberalism does not acknowledge communal values."48 That is to say, the only goods for liberals are the capricious desires of unrelated persons. There are no social values. But, Unger tells us, this poses a serious problem for liberalism. If society is not to be rent by incessant conflict, somebody must have power to maintain order.49 However, to hand anyone power over others, given the assumed subjectivity of value, is to permit him to impose his personal values on them. The logic of the situation seems to require that the man in command not only pacifies but dominates the rest. Liberalism trys to avoid "domination" by placing power under the rule of law. Liberal legalism purports to offer fair and impartial public order.50 Personal "domination" is prevented, and all are equally free to lead their lives as they see fit.

Unger charges that the impartiality of law is a liberal illusion.51 An attempt to legislate purely rational rules, which do not favor anyone's special interests, is doomed. Kant's "categorical imperative" is an empty criterion; it yields maxims that are vacuous and so cannot guide conduct. Rules are of use only when infused with specific values, that is, only when they operate to the advantage of some against others. "Domination" returns.

Utilitarianism is also biased. For there can be no way to aggregate private ends into some public measure of value. Somebody's desires will always achieve priority. Unger's argument is that "domination" is inescapable in any attempt to unify intrinsically arbitrary values. Neither impersonal law nor social utility offers a way out of the impasse of liberalism. In a liberal society there can be no genuine authority, at best only "tranquil exercise of power, which men call authority." 52

In both theory and practice liberalism separates private from public man. This separation is morally and psychologically devastating. "The self is split in two, each half finding the other incomprehensible, then mad."53 Insanity is the price of liberal illusion.

How can "domination" and madness be overcome? Clearly, on Unger's view, only when preferences of some cease to prevail and selves are reunified. Unger argues that for society to be organized without "domination" it must be based upon values that emanate from human nature itself.54 The values expressive of human nature are to be discovered through the practice of anarchistic democracy. According to Unger, this practice will demonstrate, given time, the existence of a greater and greater area of shared values and purposes. These will be recognized as valid indicators of the objectively human good.

Democracy reveals the good only under certain conditions.55 The presence of dominance results in distortions; truly human values are obscured by the wills of the powerful. "Domination" must be gotten rid of before human nature can show itself. Notice the circularity. Dominance can be extirpated only when objective values are found, but a truly human morality is possible only when relations of superiority and inferiority no longer exist. But, Unger contends, the circle may be transformed into a spiral. By this, he means that once the more obvious forms of "domination" are rooted out, some unifying aspirations will take hold of people. This experience will permit further eradications of power, and so on and on.

Unger believes that the society which articulates the human nature revealed by the democratic process will approach the expressivist ideal. He says:

The more these shared ends express the nature of humanity rather than simply the preferences of particular individuals and groups, the more would one's acceptance of them become an affirmation of one's own nature; the less it would have to represent the abandonment of individuality in favor of assent and recognition. Thus, it would be possible to view others as complementary rather than opposing wills; furtherance of their ends would mean the advancement of one's own. The conflict between the demands of individuality and sociability would disappear.56
Not only is subjective individualism thus avoided, but, argues Unger, this conception of the humanly good also defeats authoritarian collectivism, the notion that some objective purpose in life may rightfully be imposed on the blind or recalcitrant. Only through free deliberation and choice can genuinely shared values come into consciousness.57 The truly human society would attain very considerable, though never complete, harmony between the singular and social natures of men.58 For Unger, society is best conceived in terms of concrete universality. In the language of British Hegelianism, the expressivist ideal of human relations is that of an "identity in difference."


How might this vision be institutionalized? Unger shows us a picture of a society composed of "organic groups." Each group is to be small enough that all members know each other. Moreover, people are to relate to one another in a variety of ways, not merely by way of a single role as in contemporary business and government organizations. Thus organic groups will unite the public and the private dimensions of life. As Unger puts it, "... the oneness of personality is reaffirmed." 59

The paramount objective of these organic communities is to destroy all forms of "domination." In consequence, considerations of ability and merit are to have no weight in the groups' deliberations. Meritocracy is the final bastion of unjustified power. Only egalitarian democrats can take this bastion and begin to exhibit what human nature really is. Only under total democracy do men face each other as concrete individuals, rather than as abstract role occupants.60 Again we are reminded of Alan Ritter's emphasis on deliberation in the anarchist ideal of freedom.

The upshot of "expressivist democracy" is intense politicization of life.61 All other values, including economic efficiency, are to give way to the supreme criterion of anarchic equality.62

A division of labor will remain in the society of organic groups, but it will not serve as a basis for differential rewards; the criterion of need will be the sole distributive principle.63 The purpose of occupational specialization is to foster development of some aspect of men's many-sided selves to the fullest possible extent. Specialization promotes romantic expression, not rationalistic regimentation. Thus respect for human differences is preserved without the moral costs of meritocratic "domination."

People in Unger's democracy would be allowed to move from one organic group to another if they could no longer subscribe to a group's purposes. Since there will be a multiplicity of groups, Unger foresees a need for a statelike agency to coordinate and harmonize their activities. He leaves open the issue of the nature of this authority. Given his lack of reliance on market processes, we may surmise that this authority will have a good deal to do.


The anarchist ideal permeates Unger's thinking. Liberalism is dismissed for its presumed atomistic individualism, collectivism for submersion of the individual in the group. Moreover, like the authentic anarchists, Unger sees the expressivist synthesis arising out of life in small communal settings. And at the center of his thought is preoccupation with inequalities that are translated into forms of "domination." As with David Wieck, Unger's primary purpose is to cleanse human relations of all unjustified power. Neither the rule of law nor of the market, nor both in combination, can accomplish this purpose. In the good society the only morally acceptable function of authority is to protect and to advance those values found to be constituent of human nature. Authority cannot be permitted to reflect human inequalities and personal preferences.

There is, then, broad agreement between Unger's expressivism and what we have called authentic anarchism. Common to both is the conviction that apparently impersonal and rational law does not, and can not, secure true justice. The liberal rule of law, Unger claims, is not a remedy for partiality; it is actually the rule of men. We deceive ourselves if we think that freedom under law is a morally defensible ideal. Without expressivist democracy, our humanity will remain thwarted and deformed by inegalitarian "domination." The final unfolding of human nature depends decisively on defeating the arrogance of merit, presently disguised by liberal theories of justice. In the end the moral defect of liberalism is the presumption that justice can be had ". . . without it being necessary to establish the precise ends for which power ought to be exercised."64


We cannot, of course, here enter into a full appraisal of Unger's institutionalized expressivism. Rather we shall attempt to make explicit some of its major assumptions and implications.

Unger speaks immediately above of "precise ends," although he never really specifies them. It is obvious, however, that the ends he has in mind are both communal and latent in human nature. Moreover, he asserts that they have been suppressed by an essentially procedural civilization. The implication is that we should go over to a new society, one far more appropriate to our nature. This proposal collides head-on with the liberal conception of the good for man. In Friedrich Hayek's words, "A Great Society has nothing to do with, and is in fact irreconcilable with 'solidarity' in the true sense of unitedness in the pursuit of known common goals."65 Indeed, from Hayek's standpoint, Unger's proposal is a regression to "tribal" morality.

Unger's aversion to procedural civilization, based on the rule of law and the open market, entails drastic politicizing of life. In his view, this poses no threat to individuality and freedom. Although he relies on majority rule in his "organic groups" to elicit objective ends and values, there is no "domination." For he assumes the values so uncovered to be universal, and so to live according to them involves no arbitrary subjection to the will of another. Again, Unger's thinking runs completely contrary to the liberal's belief in the diversity of human purposes. According to Hayek, "... in the Great Society the different members benefit from each other's efforts not only in spite of but often even because of their several aims being different." 66

Finally, it may be asked why does not Unger's expressivism culminate in full-fledged anarchism? The answer is that we are flawed. He refers to a "... hypothetical condition in which the greatest individuality is allied with the greatest sociability, and realized through it, [as] the ideal of sympathy."67 And our sympathy is not unlimited. Therefore, the expressivist synthesis can never fully be achieved on earth, only approximated to. Since harmony of men cannot ever be entirely spontaneous, there will always be need for a harmonizing authority, a state. Again, the fundamental divergence between communal anarchism and liberalism appears: Should society be organized for pursuit of common purposes, or should we continue to rely as far as possible upon our procedural heritage?


Unger believes the society of "organic groups" is emerging from the present social order. "The conflicts within its dominant types of social consciousness and order push the liberal state in the direction of the welfare-corporate state." 68 We are depending less and less on market criteria of distribution as we take account of the welfare criterion of need.69 Furthermore, society has become a web of intermediate organizations, the sign of incipient corporatism. Thus the welfare-corporate state is growing naturally out of liberal proceduralism. Already occupational and voluntary associations foretell the coming of the organic-grouped society.70 And universal affirmation of welfare confirms the death of ethical subjectivism. Here is a value objectively grounded in human nature. The ideals common to expressivism and anarchism would seem to be coming within our reach.

Other readings of our situation are less sanguine for their future. According to Hayek, we are living through an upsurge of divisive, tribal sentiment, totally inconsistent with the impersonal morality required to sustain an open society. "The submergence of classical liberalism under the inseparable forces of socialism and nationalism is the consequence of a revival of those tribal sentiments."71 In a similar vein, Oakeshott remarks on "the masses" and on ". . . their incapacity to sustain an individual life and their longing for the shelter of a community." He goes on to say, "Their numbers have fluctuated greatly in modern times although they are now proportionately greater than ever before, mainly because of the policies of governments." 72 These great trends bode no less ill for anarchist expressivism than they do for liberalism.

Observers of more recent developments find an intensification of competition. Raymond Boudon discovers an "aggregation paradox," by which he means that increasing equality of opportunity drives people into ever more severe competition for income and status. Paradoxically, they have to run even harder merely to retain position in the Hobbesian race.73 Fred Hirsch writes of "social congestion" and "positional competition." 74 Affluence turns attention to goods the supply of which, as a matter of logic, cannot be increased to meet demand. In other words, a new form of scarcity, having to do with social rank, is the unexpected outcome of economic freedom and success. What are its implications? Hirsch thinks that we will become more occupied with distributional issues, and this will move us, if reluctantly, in a collectivist direction.

In any event, the coming of "social scarcity" is bound to cause romantic irritation and dismay. Yet this very scarcity will make more sober those whose dreams of self-realization and expression were based on the prospect of abundance. Simultaneous inflaming and dampening of expressivist aspirations may well influence the prospects of anarchism in a countervailing manner. While we may anticipate anarchistic attitudes to become chronic, the probability of serious anarchist movements would seem to be small. Jean Baechler says, "Assuming that anarchism has a purpose, it must lie within local and limited counter-societies. At the very best, anarchism can only be a kind of flight from society." 75

Perhaps, however, anarchist thought and feeling, if moderated, will have a more constructive role to play. Freedom may be enhanced by exploring new modes of association along lines suggested by the near- and neo-anarchists. May not the real future of anarchism be that of both a safety valve and a benign influence on the alienated condition of man? 76 Anyway, neither the long-run trends nor recent developments, on which we have touched, augur well for the institutionalization of romantic expressivism in a pristine form.


Anarchism has flowed from a sense of oppression and outrage, as in the nineteenth century and earlier, and flows today from feelings of discomfort with the inner compromises and institutional balances of our society. The authentic anarchists are acutely sensitive to the limits on solidarity and equality required by the dualistic nature of men and their public situation. The final question for them is whether these discomforts and constraints can be eliminated or only mitigated; whether men, given human dynamics, could exemplify their ideals of self and society. Is the "expressivist synthesis" humanly possible?

One wonders how the processes through which people become individuated could operate effectively in an intensely communal setting. Individuation, that is, acquiring a sense of independence and inner authority, dictates that a person experience the distinction between self and others. He cannot, as Hume would say, entirely "kindle in the common blaze." Becoming a person involves resisting pressures that arise from within the group even as one remains in empathetic identification with it. It may well be only through mutual opposition and correction that people obtain capacity for self-direction and self-affirmation. Only emotionally dependent and acquiescent personalities could fully identify with their fellows.77 Even Unger worries about the dangers of communal-ism. "By its very nature, community is always on the verge of becoming oppression."78

These considerations surely must concern the egalitarian expressi-vists who exalt social sentiment as the mark of true individuality. The issue for individualistic anarchism, including piggyback "anar-cho-capitalism," is social solidarity. Could the highly individualized creatures envisaged ever establish enduring, stable relations? Social disintegration might follow upon the growth of contractarian attitudes toward the family and the state. According to David Gauthier, in the past these institutions functioned to contain market impulses; they served as the framework of the liberal economy. "Bereft of its framework, the bargaining order will collapse into competitive chaos."79 Unbalanced men would seem destined for "Hobbism," as Jean-Paul Sartre has well said.80


What we wish to suggest, by way of conclusion, is that a genuine person must always feel less than perfectly in accord with society; a sense of separateness is integral to being human. To appreciate that "I" am distinct from, as well as interdependent with, "others" one cannot think and feel always as "we." To hold that one may be thoroughly an'individual and also immersed in community seems to misunderstand the dynamics of individuality. Could it not be that anarchists are working with an ideal of personhood that verges on self-contradiction?

Perhaps the expressivists have erred in deriving a philosophy of man from natural but incompatible cravings that arise in disorienting circumstances. If so, then we are led away from the anarchistic goal of synthesis and toward balance and compromise. And the state reappears to offset the weight of community. As Unger rightly says, "The basic liberties of membership, expression, and work require protection by a body other than the very one whose powers they restrict." 81 Our investigation of anarchism brings us back to political philosophy.


1. Coercion, of course, played a central part in the formation of the modern state as men sought to protect themselves against the gangs that were ravaging Europe in the late middle ages. See Michael Howard, War in European History (London: Oxford University Press, 1976), Chapter 2, "The Wars of the Mercenaries."

2. According to Roberto Mangabeira Unger, all who have "communitarian aspirations" "... will look for an alternative to legality in the notion of a community bound together by a shared experience and capable of developing its own self-revising customs or principles of interaction." Law in Modern Society (New York: The Free Press, 1976), pp. 202-3.

3. The "Great Company" was "... a band nearly ten thousand strong and totally international in membership which persisted for fifteen years between 1338 and 1354 and ran what would now be called a protection racket on a very large scale." Howard, War in European History, p. 25.

4. According to Norman Macrae, "Many services now provided by-governments will need to be 'recompetitioned' and reprivatized." "The Coming Entrepreneurial Revolution: A Survey," 261 The Economist (25 December 1976), 41-65, p. 41. Comment on Macrae and his response may be found in the issues of 8 January 1977 and 5 and 12 March 1977.

5. Compare Wieck's conception of justice with Kropotkin's as expounded by David Miller in his Social Justice (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976), Chapter VII.

6. Forms of "domination" are dealt with in Alkis Kontos, ed., Domination (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1975). The concept of personal "domination" is crucial to Unger's indictment of the rule of law and liberalism in general. In addition to Law in Modern Society, see his Knowledge and Politics (New York: The Free Press, 1975). "Domination" is central to these recent critiques of liberalism: C. B. Macpherson, Democratic Theory: Essays in Retrieval (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1973); Paul N. Goldstene, The Collapse of Liberal Empire: Science and Revolution in the Twentieth Century (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1977); and Robert Paul Wolff, Understanding Rawls (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1977).

7. Compare Hampshire's statement that "For me socialism is not so much a theory as a set of moral injunctions. . . ." Leszek Kolakowski and Stuart Hampshire, eds., The Socialist Idea: A Reappraisal (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1974), "Epilogue," 245-49, p. 249.

8. On the impulse to humiliate authorities, see Edward Shils, "Plenitude and Scarcity: The Anatomy of an International Cultural Crisis," in his The Intellectuals and the Powers and Other Essays (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1972), 265-97, p. 293. On attitudes toward personal dignity and integrity, see Adam Ulam, The Fall of the American University (New York: The Library Press, 1972), pp. 129-33.

9. Unger says, "The individuality of values is the very basis of personal identity in liberal thought, a basis the communal conception of value destroys." Knowledge and Politics, p. 76.

10. See also Jeffrey H. Reiman, In Defense of Political Philosophy (New York: Harper & Row, 1972), and Wolffs "A Reply to Reiman," in his In Defense of Anarchism (New York: Harper & Row, 1976), pp. 83-113.

11. On "classical" anarchism, see James Joll, The Anarchists (New York: Grosset & Dunlap, 1964), and Eric Voeglin, From Enlightenment to Revolution, edited by John H. Hallowell (Durham: Duke University Press, 1975). On Russian populism and anarchism, see Franco Venturi, Roots of Revolution (New York: Grosset & Dunlap, 1966); Richard Pipes, Russia Under the Old Regime (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1974); and Adam Ulam, In the Name of the People (New York: Viking, 1977).

12. About anarchists, Jean Baechler says: "They must inevitably draw their recruits from a very narrow field. The only sizeable groups they could possibly attract make up the rabble, the social category that, by its very nature, plays no part in society and is conspicuous for its utter fragmentation. Hence, in the normal course of events, anarchism comes as the climax of a personal destiny. It follows that there are, in the final analysis, as many forms of anarchism as there are anarchists." Revolution, trans. Joan Vickers (New York: Harper & Row, 1975), p. 115.

13. On French anarchism and syndicalism, see F. F. Ridley, Revolutionary Syndicalism in France: The Direct Action of Its Time (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1970).

14. The anarchistic elements in Mao's thought are examined by Benjamin Schwartz, "Thoughts of Mao Tse-tung," XX The New York Review of Books (8 February 1973), 26-31.

15. Ortega y Gasset refers to two fundamental traits of the "mass-man of today": "... the free expansion of his vital desires, and therefore, of his personality; and his radical ingratitude towards all that has made possible the ease of his existence." The Revolt of the Masses, Authorized Translation from the Spanish (New York: Mentor Books, 1952), pp. 41-42.

16. Berlin, "Herder and the Enlightenment," in his Vico and Herder: Two Studies in the History of Ideas (London: The Hogarth Press, 1976), p. 153.

17. Ibid., p. 181.

18. See John Plamenatz, Karl Marx's Philosophy of Man (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975), Chapter III, and Shlomo Avineri, The Social and Political Thought of Karl Marx (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968), pp. 86-95.

19. Plamenatz, Karl Marx's Philosophy of Man, p. 458. According to P. J. D. Wiles, it is mistaken to think that Marx ignored questions of institutionalization; at scattered places in his writings, for example, one can find discussions of nationalization of industry, agricultural cooperatives and equality of pay. The Political Economy of Communism (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1962), pp. 56-61.

20. See Michael Oakeshott, On Human Conduct (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1975), Part II. The other great contemporary exponent of classical liberalism is Friedrich A. Hayek. See his Law, Legislation and Liberty, 2 vols. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1973 and 1976).

21. Unger, Knowledge and Politics, Chapters 4-6.

22. See Hayek, Law, Legislation and Liberty, Vol. II, The Mirage of Social Justice, pp. 150-52, and Oakeshott, On Human Conduct, p. 319 n.

23. A recent example is David Lyons, "Human Rights and the General Welfare," 6 Philosophy & Public Affairs (Winter 1977), 113-29.

24. The notion of an "expressivist synthesis" is taken from Charles Taylor, Hegel (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1975), p. 49 and elsewhere. Taylor's concept descends from Berlin's understanding of Herder's "populism" and "expressionism."

25. In one Christian perspective "expressivism" amounts to a glorification of self and society. It is a manifestation of what Eric Voegelin refers to as "the pneumatic disease." Indeed, it is nothing other than a branch of the "Religion of social Satanism." From Enlightenment to Revolution, pp. 220 & 71, and throughout.

26. As quoted in Martin A. Miller, Kropotkin (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1976), p. 197.

27. From Bakunin on Anarchy, edited and translated by Sam Dolgoff (London: Allen and Unwin, 1971), p. 119.

28. Nozick, Anarchy, State, and Utopia (New York: Basic Books, 1974), Part III.

29. Unger, Knowledge and Politics, p. 285.

30. Unger, Law in Modern Society, p. 58.

31. In this respect they are in tune with the present emotional climate. According to Plamenatz, "It is self-realization rather than moral freedom that is by way of becoming a popular idea." Karl Marx's Philosophy of Man, p. 341.

32. MacRae, "Students in Orbit," in G. R. Urban, Hazards of Learning: An International Symposium on the Crisis of the University (La Salle, 111.: Open Court, 1977), 19-38, pp. 37-38.

33. Taylor, Hegel, pp. 541-42.

34. According to Unger, "The self is split in two, each half finding the other incomprehensible, then mad." Knowledge and Politics, p. 27.

35. Giddens, The Class Structure of the Advanced Societies (London: Hutchinson University Press, 1973), pp. 293-94.

36. See Dolgoff, Bakunin on Anarchy, pp. 225-42 and 356-79; and Miller, Kropotkin, pp. 189-95.

37. Thayer, An End to Hierarchy! An End to Competition! (New York: New Viewpoints, 1973), p. 5. He admires the McDonald's organization, but not without reservation. "When no one is compelled to fight to obtain and preserve status, prestige, or success, the atmosphere may become more erotic and sensual, and even office sex may be a natural thing. The operational restriction on McDonald's water-bed room may be a casualty of the overarching social revolution we must experience." Ibid., p. 6.

38. On medieval anarchism, see Joll, The Anarchists, Chapter I.

39. According to Miller, "The link between Russian Populism and European anarchism was Bakunin, who incorporated aspects of both ideologies. . .. Kropotkin assimilated Bakunin's dedication to the abolition of the European state . . . and merged it with the populists' feeling of moral responsibility toward the Russian masses." Kropotkin, p. 252.

40. Giddens, The Class Structure, pp. 212-13.

41. Dolgoff, Bakunin on Anarchy, p. v.

42. Apter, "The Old Anarchism and the New -- Some Comments," in Apter and James Joll, eds., Anarchism Today (New York: Anchor Books, 1972), 1-13, pp. 10-12.

43. Daniel and Gabriel Cohn-Bendit, Obsolete Communism: The Left Wing Alternative, trans. Arnold Pomerans (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1968), p. 27.

44. Hayek, The Mirage of Social Justice, Chapters 9 and 11.

45. See Barry, The Liberal Theory of Justice (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1973), and Lukes, "Socialism and Equality," in Kolakowski and Hampshire, The Socialist Idea, pp. 74-95.

46. Unger, Knowledge and Politics, pp. 173-74.

47. Ibid., p. 26.

48. Ibid., p. 76.

49. Ibid., p. 64.

50. Ibid., pp. 67-69.

51. Ibid., pp. 83-88.

52. Ibid., p. 64.

53. Ibid., p. 27.

54. Ibid., pp. 238-48, 267-74.

55. Ibid., pp. 242-53.

56. Ibid., p. 220.

57. Ibid., pp. 76-78, 238-42.

58. Ibid., p. 285.

59. Ibid., p. 263.

60. Ibid., p. 264.

61. Ibid., p. 268. "The democracy of ends in the organic group consists in the progressive replacement of meritocratic by democratic power in the ordinary institutions of society and, above all, in its occupational groups."

62. Ibid., pp. 265-68, 273.

63. Ibid., pp. 271-72.

64. Ibid., p. 168.

65. Hayek, The Mirage of Social Justice, p. 111. He says, "The possibility of men living together in peace and to their mutual advantage without having to agree on common concrete aims, and bound only by abstract rules of conduct, was perhaps the greatest discovery mankind ever made." Ibid., p. 136.

66. Ibid., p. 110.

67. Unger, Knowledge and Politics, p. 217.

68. Ibid., p. 174.

69. According to Hayek, "There is no reason why in a free society government should not assure to all protection against severe deprivation in the form of an assured minimum income, or a floor below which nobody need to descend." The Mirage of Social Justice, p. 87.

70. Unger, Knowledge and Politics, pp. 264-65. Hayek thinks that "It is the great merit of the spontaneous order concerned only with means that it makes possible the existence of a large number of distinct and voluntary value communities serving such values as science, the arts, sports and the like." The Mirage of Social Justice, p. 151.

71. Ibid., p. 134. In his opinion, "At a time when the great majority are employed in organizations and have little opportunity to learn the morals of the market, their intuitive craving for a more humane and personal morals corresponding to their inherited instincts is quite likely to destroy the Open Society." Ibid., p. 146.

72. Oakeshott, On Human Conduct, p. 276.

73. Boudon, Education, Opportunity, and Social Inequality: Changing Prospects in Western Society (New York: John Wiley, 1973), pp. 198-99.

74. Hirsch, Social Limits to Growth (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1976), Chapter I.

75. Baechler, Revolution, p. 128.

76. On the inevitability of alienation, see Morton A. Kaplan, Alienation and Identification (New York: The Free Press, 1976).

77. See Zevedei Barbu, Problems of Historical Psychology (London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1960), pp. 74-96.

78. Unger, Knowledge and Politics, p. 266. See also Richard E. Flathman, The Practice of Rights (New York: Cambridge University Press, 1976), Chapter 9, "Rights and Community"; and Richard Sennett, The Fall of Public Man (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976).

79. Gauthier, "The Social Contract as Ideology," 6 Philosophy & Public Affairs (Winter 1977), 130-64, p. 163.

80. According to Maurice Cranston, "... just as Hobbes is haunted by fear of political society relapsing into the intolerable condition of the state of nature where no man is safe, Sartre gives grim warnings about the danger of the group's relapsing into an intolerable condition of seriality." "Sartre and Violence," in his The Mask of Politics and Other Essays (London: Allen Lane, 1973), 77-110, p. 108.

81. Unger, Knowledge and Politics, p. 282.