Book Review: "The Dawn of Everything" by David Graeber & David Wengrow

I finally got around to reading ‘The Dawn of Everything: A New History of Humanity’ by the late, great David Graeber and David Wengrow. Graeber was a first-rate anthropologist and leftist thought-leader, and his tragic death during the pandemic was a huge blow to the international left. While Graeber’s ideas were often insightful and revolutionary, his written work was often dry and difficult. While frequently targeting mass-market ‘grand theorists of history’ such as Jared Diamond, Steven Pinker and Yuval Noah Harari for debunking, he remained firmly grounded in the academic realm. ‘The Dawn of Everything’, a collection of essays and lectures compiled with his collaborator David Wengrow in the ten years prior to his death, is very much of this mould: too interested in debating the ‘big questions’ to be rigorously academic, but too dedicated to the material minutiae and petty historiological disputes to sell a new ‘theory of everything’. In that way, it’s just as frustrating and enlightening as Graeber’s other work, and thus, a fitting final testament.

Let’s begin with the title. Perhaps a more accurate one would have been ‘The Dawn of Inequality: A New Pre-history of Humanity’. Graeber & Wengrow’s primary research question - with the exception of dull, Weberian digression on the birth of the state - is to identify, or at least challenge received accounts of, the origins of inequality. In this, they follow the great tradition of debating liberalism’s theodicy problem - if men are born free, as ideology presumes, why are we now so unequal? Unfortunately, they use as a framing device the ‘debate’ between a fundamentally Hobbesian and Rousseauian narrative of the origins of society - in the former, man is by his nature self-interested and to avoid a life that is nasty, brutish and short, binds himself to the rule of a sovereign. Whereas in the latter, man in his natural state lives in a state of primitive freedom and leisure, which he is seduced into giving up by the material comforts of ‘civilization’.

Graeber & Wengrow point out that this dichotomy, taught to hundreds of thousands of fresh-faced undergrads each year, is dull and limiting. But by framing the book in those same terms they do a huge disservice to the diversity of the ideological debate around liberty and inequality. On the one hand, Hobbes and Rousseau wrote more than a hundred years apart; they were addressing fundamentally different political, economic and ideological contexts and their juxtaposition in this way is an artifact of modern text selection. Moreover, both Hobbes and Rousseau are fundamentally pessimistic writers writing in the social contract tradition, albeit ones with different takes on authority: with Hobbes the authoritarian and Rousseu a sort-of proto-libertarian. Graeber & Wengrow ignore both the more optimistic left-liberal and materialist traditions and the reactionary critique of social-contract theory which sees inequality as a good and natural thing, actually.

A new pre-history of humanity

The other bit of false advertising on the book cover concerns its temporal scope: this is very much a book about ‘pre-history’ - the latest Eurasian civilizations we meet are the Minoan and Mycenaean Greeks, where conventional Western narrative history often begins. Perhaps that’s an intentional choice - after all, human history is much, much longer than recorded in writing. The insights and perspectives that these ancient societies can generate based on scant archaeological evidence are fascinating and represent the best parts of the book. We range all across north and south America, the ancient Middle East and into Eurasia and the Pacific, and while I have absolutely no doubt that Graeber & Wengrow are presenting the absolute cutting-edge in what is known about these societies, facts about them remain frustratingly just out of reach and many of Graeber & Wengrow’s implications are therefore necessary speculative.

At the outset, Graeber & Wengrow offer a convincing narrative about the origins of the inequality question in the European encounter with indigenous America. In this reading, Montesquieu, Voltaire and Rousseau did not invent the inequality discourse out of whole cloth, but instead were reflecting upon the perspective that native peoples had of European civilization - perspectives that were, as a result of French colonial empire, now available to bourgeois writers in the metropole. This isn’t quite right - French liberals had plenty of sixteenth-century sources about social contract theory, liberty and equality in both French and English to draw upon. But the Colombian exchange did pose the question of what rights human beings might have simply a consequence of being human - rather than as royal subjects or Christians. And thus, we are told, Rousseau and his contemporaries invented the concept of the state of nature by taking the ‘primitive’ but ‘egalitarian’ lifestyles of the ‘American’ foraging societies they were familiar with as representative. As we learn much later in the book, however, even those north American social bands which most approximated this ideal had adopted this way of life following previous periods of more centralised state-building - their relative egalitarian social structures were a choice, not merely a consequence of ‘underdevelopment’.

Graeber & Wengrow devote considerable space to advocating for a more fluid view of human social arrangements. Social structures are not fixed by material conditions, made irrevocable once a certain technological threshold. Rather, they note, many early societies adopted different modes of organisation at different times of year, coming together for hunts or festivals, and then dispersing, with very different social rules and hierarchies applying in each mode. A ‘king’ may have both the ceremonial and literal power of life and death at certain times of year, or in certain locations, but then be treated little better than an ordinary band-member on the hunt. Farming was not invented all at once, requiring investment in fixed townships, but societies used it from time-to-time as convenient, and abandoned farming just as easily as they invented it. Some hunter-gathering societies are rigidly egalitarian, others fiercely hierarchical. Egalitarian bands may enforce rigid material redistribution, with social rules to punish accumulation, while others encourage creativity and individuality within a materially poor culture.

Graeber & Wengrow also introduce the idea of cultural ‘schismogenesis’, the notion that neighbouring cultures may consciously adopt polarised social practices to create an exclusive sense of identity. In fact, they note that for most of human history, identity groups got smaller rather than larger, with tribes and villages adopting ever-more exclusive notions of group membership and curtailing the previous ‘freedom to roam’ enjoyed by ancient human populations. Examples include the ancient peoples of the California coast, who in the south enforced a rigid culture based on individual industriousness, and in the north fought and took slaves, who did the majority of the manual labour to support an indulgent ruling class. Graeber & Wengrow examine but ultimately dismiss the traditional materialist account of these different social modes, based on different ‘modes of production’ and the availability of surpluses in each ecological zone. Instead, they argue, these differences were a result of self-conscious self-differentiation against the ‘other’.

In short, there was nothing inevitable or pre-determined about the transition from hunter-gather societies, into agriculturally based city societies and the emergence of priestly and ruling classes based on the exploitation of these surpluses. Graeber & Wengrow marshall truly impressive evidence about the first cities, pre-dating those in Mesopotamia and Egypt by thousands of years, to show that massive groups of people - numbering in the tens or hundreds of thousands - could organise themselves quasi-democratically and without leaving any evidence of social hierarchies over timescales of many hundreds of years. While everyone knows Tenochtitlan, capital of the ‘blood-thirsy’ Aztecs, few know the name of Teotihuacan, a city of 125,000 people organised on egalitarian lines merely 40kms away that flourished over a thousand years prior with pyramid-building just as, if not moreso, impressive. Graeber & Wengrow present documentary evidence to show that Europeans exploring the Americans fundamentally misunderstood that many of the cities they encountered were governed as republics, with rhetorical and political traditions vastly more sophisticated than were practiced in Europe at the time. Their evidence is very clear that warrior aristocracies usually tended to arise in frontier zones - forests, mountains and hills - and only move into cities later as conquerors. And just as importantly, the archaeological records show hints of the first revolutions against tyranny, thousands of years before Rome and the Gracchi.

Against the evolutionists

All well and good. But apart from their [understandable but irritating] abuse of European philosophy as a framing device, Graeber & Wengrow also take aim at another subject close to my heart by being highly critical of what they call social ‘evolutionism’. For Graeber & Wengrow, social evolutionary theory is synonymous with a certain late-nineteenth century, ‘progressive’ view of human societies as inexorably and inevitably moving through a series of fixed stages towards the capitalist mode of development. They note that almost the entire field of sociology - from the Marxist to Hayekian - rejects this kind of simplification entirely, yet Graeber & Wengrow continue to argue against it, arguing that it reflects what sociologists ‘really think’. While that may be right in some sense - people to love their simplifying categories after all, even bespectled academics - employing such crude caricatures a great disservice to cultural evolutionary theory.

Because, in fact, the kind of diversity and experimentation that Graeber & Wengrow identify is precisely the variation that a modern evolutionary perspective would expect to see in human history. What is missing entirely from Graeber’s account is the function of selectors in history - what makes these societies fail. We are told repeatedly that once-glorious cities are abandoned, and people move away. But why? We never know, and Graeber & Wengrow make scant mention of the role of war, disease and environmental change in history. It’s frustrating that in discussing the origin of the state, the role of war and war-making is barely mentioned. Perhaps the emergence of the state in the seemingly mono-typical form we know it today is precisely the consequence of these selective pressures being applied on an initially more diverse population. A true history of humanity would need to account for the emergence of the capitalist nation-state as a consequence of the large-scale European warfare and brutal colonial extraction of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.

For Graeber & Wengrow, social arrangements always come back to a matter of ‘choice’ - not just individual choice per se, but the social choice of groups over time. Frustratingly, we are given no information, or even a theory, about how such choices might be made an implemented; given Graeber’s anarchist background, there’s a sort of perpetual wink-and-a-nod towards idea of community autonomy and self-governance. While the notion of social outcomes as social choices is certainly useful from a critical activitist perspective - it allows us to argue that another world is possible - it is not materially grounded. For Graeber & Wengrow, equality is an idea that we must choose. They do not, and cannot, engage from this perspective  in this with well-established liberal problems such as a nature of regime legitimacy, conflicts between the choices of the past and the desire of the current generation, and our fundamental lack of choice about the kind of society we are born into with limited ability to change.

A recommendation, with caution

Did I enjoy ‘The Dawn of Everything’? Yes. Did I learn things about human deep history from it, that I have not read elsewhere? Once again, yes. But am I persuaded that Graeber & Wengrow have genuinely offered a new ‘history [or even, gasp, a theory] of humanity’ that fundamentally challenges the staid and false dichotomy of Hobbes vs Rousseau? No. Unfortunately not. Like ‘Debt: the first 5,000 years’ or ‘Bullshit Jobs’, ‘The Dawn of Everything’ is full of interesting ideas that do not come together a cohesive whole, and which may one day be picked apart by serious academic critique. But for an undergraduate encountering these ideas for the first time, it offers a useful and engaging corrective to hundreds of years of propaganda that the inequality we see around us is somehow either natural or inevitable.  

The politics of respectability

I try to stay out of discussions of trans-related issues, because it’s not my place, but also because most anti-trans or ‘gender critical’ arguments are shallow and bad faith – post-hoc rationalisations of bigotry. However, debates within the LGBT community are more interesting to me, because all the participants share an overlapping epistemic basis – they have experienced the same oppression, they share the same ‘lived experience’. So we come to a recent [unproductive] ‘debate’ on YouTube between, among others, Clara Sorrenti (a.k.a. keffals), a [controversial] transwoman and streamer, and Buck Angel, a [controversial] transman and well-known gender-critical conservative. In setting out his views (see below from 3:20), Angel essentially made two claims. Firstly, that social recognition of a non-cis gender identity should be contingent on putting in the effort to pass as a gender other than the one assigned at birth; to wit, Angel would use a male bathroom because over multiple decades he had extensively invested in ‘passing’ as a man. And secondly, that the thing that most alienated Angel and ‘ordinary people’ from the so-called trans movement was their authoritarian insistence on ‘compelling’ recognition of their gender identity.

Now, my first inclination was to dismiss all this out of hand. In the first instance, Angel is merely re-stating the well-trodden ‘transmedicalist’ position that what matters is ‘passing’ – that members of the trans community have to conform to stereotypes of the gender binary (to be more masculine than men, to be more feminine than women) in order to exist safely in mainstream society. And the accusation of leftist tyranny or illiberal progressivism is a veritably ancient right-wing canard at this point. But it occurs to me that in actuality these two arguments are the same argument. Moreover, this pattern of argumentation recurs over and over again throughout history – for example, among black communities in the US, among the indigenous community in Australia – and this recurrence of this divide among marginalised peoples reveals something interesting about how humans do politics. And perhaps in a contemporary Australian context, it might help illuminate why the indigenous community takes divergent views on a constitutional Voice, and why large chunks of potential voters find the prospect of a Voice referendum so off-putting.

Respectability Politics

To put it simply, Angel is arguing that recognition (of one’s gender identity) must be earned – mainly through compliance with social norms and expectations. And to put it somewhat uncharitably, progressives demand recognition of their identity, regardless of whether or not they comply with social expectations. It is fair and accurate to say that this dichotomy (spoiler alert, it’s false) is fundamental to the pursuit of social change. Even when progressive movements couch their demands in solid liberal terms of universal access to rights, much of the backlash against them comes from the centrist perception that to demand equality is somehow illegitimate. So, for example, large parts of the LGBT community believed that integrating into respectable society through adherence to monogamous models of marriage and family life were the key to acceptance; black conservatives think their community has to behave ‘respectably’ in order to cut down on police violence; and the modern welfare state makes recipients of state transfers demonstrate their ‘moral worthiness’ before providing them those critical economic supports necessary for their survival. In most cases, access to dignity is conceded upon performance of some ritual humiliation or submission – i.e. compliance with a social norm. For Angel, to demand equality on the other hand is to tacitly admit one has failed to earn it. Or to make an analogy, to ask for state support is to admit one has failed to earn a basic standard of living in the market; and to ask for cultural or linguistic diversity is to admit failure to integrate.

Now, one could argue that Angel’s argument – let’s call it the respectability position – is merely tactical. That members of oppressed minorities consider the most effective route to achieving political change and assess that social compliance is more likely to lead to the majority of the desired gains. And certainly, for trans individuals who can pass sufficiently well to go ‘stealth’, that may be true. But I don’t think that’s all that’s going on. The tactical explanation does not address why this is the dominant view of large swathes or non-minority populations – ranging from well-meaning cis liberals and centrists to right-wing libertarians and other persuadable groups with no stakes in reform. Respect for existing hierarchies is, after all, one of the foundational dimensions of human political personality. And individuals who lean more conservative on other issues are also more likely to adhere to the respectability position. In fact, the demand that liberal societies recognise the actual equal autonomy of all citizens to express themselves and be treated as full members of society regardless of their ethnic, religious, sexual or other status is in fact vanishingly rare.

I’m currently in the middle of researching my next project on the history of liberalism, so this pattern seems very familiar. There’s an inherent contradiction at the heart of liberalism, between it’s idealised expression of the universal equality of all mankind and the reality, which is that for almost the entirety of the liberal era some populations have been considered more equal than others. Thomas Jefferson, who famously wrote that ‘all men are created equal’, just as famously owned and abused slaves. But even beyond the individual hypocrites, just who is considered an ‘active citizen’, a member of the political community deserving of respect, and who forms part of the masses to be governed (‘passive citizens’) has long been contested. The history of progress is by-and-large a history of expanding the conception of what it means to be human. And a core part of that has been moving beyond mere legal or symbolic equality to ensure in Elizabeth Anderson’s phrase, equality of dignity. That includes, of course, the right to be heard and have one’s conception of self recognised as legitimate. By denying marginalised groups their own culture or individuals their right to self-actualisation, liberals require assimilation into the status quo prior to granting recognition of others as full citizens. This contradiction has been the motor driving social reform, while laying a seed of resentful instability that can germinate into fascism.

Recognition must be given – or taken

So here’s why the divide between earning and demanding rights is something of a false one. In both cases, recognition must ultimately be given by someone with power to someone without. I am not enough of a liberal to believe that rights have a transcendent quality that pre-exist social relationships – recognition and substantiation of rights requires collective, social action. Ultimately, respectability politics of the type advocated for by Buck Angel, or Thomas Sowell, or Noel Pearson, doesn’t work because the position of a plurality of opponents is driven by base disgust and fear of loss – particularly, an irrational fear of a relative loss of social position. Most gender-critical men and women will never tolerate trans people – not even within the prescribed margins tacitly conceded by the transmedicalists – because they view the existence of any trans person at all as a threat, driven by feelings of personal disgust, confusion and rejection. As keffals points out, throughout history minority groups have been met with both public and private violence, legal suppression and harassment. American conservatives have basically already conceded that bills banning trans healthcare for minors, or to ban trans individuals from sport etc., are the thin end of the wedge towards their complete removal from public existence. Out of sight, out of mind.  

But it’s not enough to merely demand recognition, either. And doing so, as we have seen, may alienate those liberals and centrists who resent any expectation that they have to act to improve society somewhat. The notion that they cannot be existentially secure in their [undeserved] social position until and unless marginalised people are also secure is a truth that threatens the very core of their immense self-regard. Until and unless minority groups have the power and organisation to take recognition by force – to seize influence over key institutions and win rights on their own terms – that recognition will continue to be withheld. And in all honesty, the trans community – and indigenous peoples here in Australia – probably lack the sheer numbers to prevail in that kind of political fight. I’m not saying don’t do it. Pressure needs to be exerted from all directions and coercion is an essential part of building any social norm. But galling as it may be, progress will probably be won when the vast body of self-satisfied liberals deign to grant recognition of minority rights ‘as a gift’. The act of charitable giving re-enforces the centrist’s own sense of moral superiority and generosity. So there must be a fine balance between bullying and cajoling; a battered liberal will just as easily become a fascist.

Politics as charity

Does this carry any relevance for the referendum campaign for a Voice for indigenous Australians? I’m on the record as supporting the Voice proposal as a route to political representation, but I’m afraid that the mood of the public is souring and the window to make a make a positive case for constitutional change is narrowing. But the motivation of the Voice’s non-indigenous but well-meaning supporters appears to be not constitutional re-design but recognition of colonised peoples as full citizens. For liberals, the symbolism of the Voice - including their ‘recognition’ in the constitution - is the point; it will cost the centre nothing in real terms. So I think the Prime Minister’s messaging about relying on Australians’ ‘best qualities’ is probably his best saving throw at this point. The referendum will get up if and only if the government is able to convince sufficient voters that they’re good enough people to make the most minor of symbolic concessions to a historically marginalised group of people, whose land and culture we stole. Some might think that’s an easy victory; for me, it appears to sit on a knife’s edge. The politics of this kind of political charity may be frustrating and insulting to genuine leftists - we don’t beg - but fortunately, it’s a skill at which most high-status liberals excel.

Making sense of dialectical materialism

I recently read Tristan Hunt’s [now-dated] biography of Friedrich Engels on vacation. I may have also subjected myself to a ‘debate’ on Marxist philosophy between leftish YouTuber Vaush and ML-adjacent anarchist Emerican Johnson (‘EJ’), I’ve been struck how both professional historians such as Hunt and amateurs such as Vaush both deploy a vulgar understanding of Marxist terminology and concepts - a language of modes of production, fixed stages of development, class contradiction and the inevitability of revolution that reflects a good-quality liberal education during which Marx was taught - but never applied. Empty symbols, signifying nothing. But thinkers on the left often do themselves few favours. Academic philosophy is always obtuse and much of Marx’s and Engel’s insight has become ossified and calcified with a century of additions, explanations and assumed knowledge. I have to admit, when someone truly knowledgeable and enmeshed in this way of thought (such as EJ) tries to explain it, I cringe. It’s often incomprehensible, and so removed from conventional Western modes of thought that the left can appear mad, divorced from commonsense notions or isolated in its ivory tower. Classical Marxism is almost, but not quite, crank philosophy.

Nevertheless, as I’ve grown and matured as a writer I’ve found there’s valuable insights in the old texts. Simple awareness of the existence and operation of alternative ontological, metaphysical, epistemological and metaethical assumptions can help us overcome much of the social and interpersonal conflict that those assumptions generate. So this will be a blog about dialectical materialism - the philosophical framework in which Marx and Engels operated. The two founders of modern anti-capitalism are best known as political economists, historians and sociologists, but were first and foremost philosophers. Unhelpfully, their framework was so foundational to their thinking that they never bothered to write it all down in one place. So what we have is mostly snippets, dutifully assembled and given coherence by later scholars [even the name, ‘dialectical materialism’, is a subsequent invention by Karl Kautsky]. These scholars themselves often laboured under tyrannical regimes. It is wrong to claim, as Vaush did, that ‘dialectical materialism’ exists only to justify the behaviour of autocrats. But it is true that Lenin, Stalin and Mao each contributed in some way. Make of that what you will. My case is simply that beneath a century of mystification, there’s still some things worth knowing.

What ‘Dialectical Materialism’ is not

There are several methods by which one might approach large topics: to define a thing by what it is not; to put it in the context of its intellectual history; and finally, to outline what a thing is and what it does. I always find the third approach the most useful, and its where I’ll focus my efforts later, but we’ll start in true dialectical fashion with its negation. Marxists use several pieces of terminology in ways alien to modern philosophers; the most important of these is ‘metaphysics’. Metaphysics is to the modern mind merely the philosophical study of the fundamental nature of reality; so dialectical materialism is simply a branch of metaphysics. But what Marxists counterpose dialectics against metaphysics they mean specifically Western metaphysics, and in particular the mode of thought dominant in post-Enlightenment Europe.

“To the metaphysician, things and their mental reflexes, ideas, are isolated, are to be considered one after the other and apart from each other, are objects of investigation fixed, rigid, given once for all. . . . For him, a thing either exists or does not exist; a thing cannot at the same time be itself and something else. Positive and negative absolutely exclude one another; cause and effect stand in a rigid antithesis, one to the other.” [Engels, “Socialism: Utopian and Scientific"]

“The metaphysical or vulgar evolutionist world outlook sees things as isolated, static and one-sided. It regards all things in the universe, their forms and their species, as eternally isolated from one another and immutable. . . . Metaphysicians hold that all the different kinds of things in the universe and all their characteristics have been the same ever since they first came into being. All subsequent changes have simply been increases or decreases in quantity. They contend that a thing can only keep on repeating itself as the same kind of thing and cannot change into anything different.” [Mao, “On Contradiction”]

Dialectics and ‘metaphysics’, thus, are put forward as two opposed ways of understanding the world, although they are not exclusive opposites, and most people think at least part of the time in both modes. The metaphysical mode is a world of mental categories, where physical objects and concepts have fixed definitions and argumentation proceeds from axioms in a formal manner. The metaphysician struggles to come up with a working definition of ‘chair’; the dialectician simply notes they’re used for sitting and moves on. Consider whether we can have a fixed definition of even simple concepts such as of ‘woman’, ‘worker’, ‘person of colour’, ‘privilege’; how much easier it is to observe that these are constructs that imply a social relationship: the patriarchy, the wage relation, white supremacy, inequality. There are no hard and fast barriers between categories, no bright lines, only shades of one thing into another.

Classical logic - which is still very influential in analytic philosophy of the American type - has three ‘laws of thought’, all of which dialectical materialism rejects to some degree.

  • The law of identity (A = A). A thing is always itself. An object is, rather than becomes. But if everything in the universe is on constant motion and interaction, then from moment-to-moment a thing is always different from what it was a moment before. “[T]he plant, the animal, every cell is at every moment of its life identical with itself and yet becoming distinct form itself, by absorption and excretion” [Engels]. Are you the same person you were when you were born? Most of your cells are constantly dying and being replaced, the very atoms that comprise your body being recycled into the environment.

  • The law of non-contradiction (A ≠ A’). Something cannot be both true and false simultaneously. This is a big one, but as an axiom it’s extremely flimsy. Is a quantum particle over here or over there? It is a particle or wave? Is an object bound in a position by a centripetal force in motion or still? Can a complex system be stable while its constituent elements behave chaotically? Can a person be privileged in some respects while simultaneously being oppressed in others? Can a person be assigned female at birth and yet present as male? The answer to all these questions is yes.

  • The law of the excluded middle (something is either A or A’). In classical logic, a proposition is either true or false, right or wrong. A category can always be defined as a completely closed system. There is no third option. But to a dialecticion this rigid either/or binary is unnecessary. What is true is contingent, conditional and relational: an individual can be a worker in some aspects of their life and an ‘owner’ in others; a person’s racial or gender categorisation, self-image and/or presentation can shift depending on social (and historical) context. Concepts are not timeless perfect forms but themselves messy, half-formed and incomplete.

The Marxist rejection of much of Western logic and metaphysics has fueled accusations it is anti-Enlightenment, anti-science or anti-empirical; but dialectical material is no less a product of the Enlightenment, the scientific method and empiricism. It merely operates from a different set of assumptions. As I wrote in my second book, ‘Evolutionary Politics: Socialism for Social Species’:

“[There is] a broader tradition in philosophy that emphasises the empirical, material and dynamic over the ideal, transcendent and static. In process philosophy, systems are not defined as categories of things but by processes ­– motion, change and becoming. Stability and harmony are mere illusions, sustained by the dynamic tension of sub-structural forces. In the same way that Marxism is the study of economic and political change via dialectical materialism, evolutionary theory is the study of the emergence of social and biological order through the process of natural selection.”

The second key Marxist negation is of Idealism - which logically enough is counterposed against materialism. This is not merely a rejection of naïve optimism [‘Utopianism’]. But rather a rejection of the reduction of reality to objects existing solely in the human brain. Idealism is no longer considered cutting-edge in Western philosophy, but continues to exert strong influence over the thinking of non-philosophers - especially liberals. Like existentialists, dialectical materialists hold that existence generates the essence of being. Truth cannot be deduced from reason alone. For the Idealist, the course of human history can be charted by the history of ideas that motivated human behaviour, but for Marx: “The phantoms formed in the human brain are also, necessarily, sublimates of their material life-process, which is empirically verifiable and bound to material premises. Morality, religion, metaphysics, all the rest of ideology and their corresponding forms of consciousness, thus no longer retain the semblance of independence. . . . Life is not determined by consciousness, but consciousness by life.” [“The German Ideology”]

Dialectics: an abbreviated intellectual history

While the ‘metaphysical’ mode of thought is evidenced in history at least as far as Plato, dialectics was also present at the dawn of recorded philosophical inquiry. Heraclitus, the great pre-Socratic cynic, wrote a single, idiosyncratic work (fittingly titled ‘On Nature’), of which only fragments survive. But those cryptic fragments already contain much of the dialectic worldview, as recognised by Marx and Engels nearly 2500 years later. For Heraclitus, all things ‘came into being through strife [the conflict of opposites]’; stability arose dynamically from conflict and tension, and without conflict, the world would cease to move. Heraclitus wrote that the ‘way up is also the way down’, emphasising that the properties of an object were a matter of perspective, and that an object was necessarily both A and not A simultaneously. His most famous aphorism, that ‘It is impossible to step in the same river twice’, illustrates through parable the idea that categories we believe are certain are actually in constant motion - everything changes and nothing stands still. But by the same token, we also change: each time we step into the river we ourselves are also different.

For the majority of Greek philosophers, however, dialectics meant simply a method of reasoning - think of a Socratic dialogue in which two imagined speakers approach the truth by offering each other propositions and counter-propositions in order to identify points of disagreement or contradiction. For millennia, it was taught as the poor cousin of logic and rhetoric, and as late as Kant in in the late eighteen century it was seen primarily as an exercise to expose weaknesses and paradoxes in an argument since in classical logic the exposure of a contradiction could only lead to the utter negation of an argument. Dialectics was not a route to moral or intellectual progress as that would have implied the participants could generate new arguments ex nihilo.

That was where things stood until Hegel at the turn of the nineteenth century. I don’t pretend to understand Hegel and I’ve never read his original work. But, speaking generally, Hegel was a strict Idealist who was interested in understanding the process of Enlightenment. To do this, he revived dialectics: for Hegel, the initial attempt to understand a thing in the abstract is necessarily imperfect; so the categorisation of things necessarily contains self-contradiction (‘negations’). But rather than invalidating the category, the abstract and the negation sublate one another to generate a concrete idea that better corresponds with reality. Rather than being destructive, the messiness and conflict inherent in philosophy was seen as generative, pushing understanding forward [which is clearly true].

In a modern liberal education, this triadic system is often taught as ‘thesis-antithesis-synthesis’, but this terminology belonged to Kant and Johann Fichte. Hegel in fact rejected any formalisation of the triadic system as a ‘lifeless schema’. Hegel [and as we shall see, his followers] never thought of the negation as being somehow necessarily one of opposition or contradiction - in fact, thinking in such binary terms is strong evidence of ‘metaphysical’ thinking and is often at the root of misunderstandings of Marxist dialectics. Contradictions are not merely a reaction to a proposition - thesis and antithesis come into being simultaneously. Hegel’s system avoided the central paradox of Plato’s dialectics: negation or contradiction does not produce the annihilation of premises but rather their transformation into something new. And new ideas do not show up ‘out of nowhere’, they emerge out of necessity from previous ones which have multiple ideas already embedded in them. They ‘come about of their own accord’, nothing new or extraneous is introduced from outside the system.

Famously, of course, Marx and Engels were ‘young Hegelians’, students of philosophy in Germany of the generation after Hegel, and were greatly influenced by him. However, Marx turned Hegel’s dialectic ‘upside down’ by stripping it of its Idealist trappings:

My dialectic method is not only different from the Hegelian, but is its direct opposite. To Hegel, the life-process of the human brain, i.e. the process of thinking, which, under the name of 'the Idea', he even transforms into an independent subject, is the demiurgos of the real world, and the real world is only the external, phenomenal form of 'the Idea'. With me, on the contrary, the ideal is nothing else than the material world reflected by the human mind, and translated into forms of thought.” [Marx, ‘Capital’]

No longer was the evolution of ideas the driving engine of history. Rather, dynamism in the material world - which is unstable and ever-changing - generated other process that could or would operate at different levels of analysis. And these material processes and contradictions were merely reflected in the imperfect and partial models of them in human minds - which subsequent writers have labelled ‘ideology’. Most of Marx’s writings concern the application of this philosophy to history and political economy and it was only later writers who formally distinguished between dialectical materialism as a philosophical method and historical material as the Marxist application of that method to human economic history. One can and should apply to dialectical method to other subjects without invoking categories such as class, mode of production, and political revolution.

The unity of opposites

Dialectical materialism has never really been formalised as complete system, but most who use it as such invoke at least ‘three laws’ - though these are more like general observations than strict axioms (which again, would be ‘metaphysical’ thinking). I think each of these so-called laws carries an important insight, but unfortunately each is shrouded in a layer of mystification and obtuse, specialised terminology. Let us begin with the first ‘law’: the ‘unity of opposites’. For the dialectician, reality consists of objects in motion. But this is not merely movement: ‘the motion of matter is not merely crude mechanical motion, mere change of place, it is heat and light, electric and magnetic, chemical combination and dissociation, life and, finally, consciousness.’ [Engels, Dialectics of Nature] In other words, every object is always moving and interacting with other objects and if we know how and why an object is interacting then we know everything about it. As I put it in my second book, ‘the dynamics of an object shape its properties, not the other way around’.

The second insight of the dialectical method is that the forces that set objects in motion require interaction between objects - masses are attracted to one another, positive and negative attract, the nuclear forces work through the interactions of quarks with bosons etc. As Engels put it, ‘all [motion] in general [is] determined by the mutual action of the two opposite poles on each other, and that the separation and opposition of these poles exist only in their mutual connection and union’. Natural systems, in other words, form an interconnected whole, in which every part may interact with every other part. Objects do not exist in isolation but their properties are mutually constituted through their relationships with other objects. What is true of physical systems, is also true of social ones: capitalism, patriarchy, and heteronormativity all come into being as systems (and in turn form a system of systems). Oppression does not occur owing to the existing of oppressive people, rather oppressor and oppressed come into being at the same time. The proletariat and bourgeoisie cannot be defined as classes in the abstract, but only mutually and through their interaction with one another. ‘The whole of nature accessible to us forms a system, an interconnected totality of bodies’. [Dialectics of Nature]

Finally, owing to this unity, we observe that the natural and social world relies for its existence on the mutual interpenetration and tension between opposing forces. The continued existence of a system depends on the presence of opposing properties, the interaction of which generates the dynamism which sustains the system. Positive and negative bind matter together, gravity and tension hold objects in place, the delicate colour balance of quantum chromodynamics holds the very atoms in your body together. The last example illustrates that the ‘unity of opposites’ does not imply strict binaries - atomic and social structures both may include more than two forces; the stability of any system is a result of the totality of forces acting. Violence, ideology, legitimation, bribery, coercion, consent - all play a role in maintaining the status quo. But all are necessary. Whether we call it a negation, opposite, contradiction etc, the key takeaway is that the coherence of categories requires the existence of opposing forces. The identity of an object is mutually constituted through the existence of other objects. Natural and social systems are not rigid, timeless hierarchies, but dynamic complex systems.

The transformation of quantity into quality

The second ‘law’ of dialectical materialism is the ‘transformation of quantity into quality’. This is much more straightforward concept and its materialist basis is easy enough to understand. But its application to sociology often eludes modern thinkers who are embedded in the framework of methodological individualism - the notion that the behaviour of the whole must be understood as a product of the behaviour of individual agents. Put simply, this law observes that the nature of an object or category can transform depending on the scale of its interactions, motions or relationships. Subtract heat from a gas, and it is still a gas; substract enough heat, however, and it liquefies, undergoing a phase change into a different object with different properties. A group of cells divides and grows in number until its parts specialise and the whole transform into a new developmental stage of the organism. Similarly, modern urban society is immensely more populous than tribal or agricultural societies, yet we are not simply living in a very large tribe. The sheer number of people organised to live together requires a qualitatively different form of social organisation, which different specialisations in the parts of the whole.

An individual worker may have limited capacity to challenge the powerful; however, when workers combines their efforts the are able to achieve more together than they ever could as individuals. Unions as institutions and labour as a class has more power than an individual worker; similarly, political parties and social movements are qualitative different from individual voters. Attempts to understand social change through analysis through the preferences of individual actors will necessarily fail. Complexity science increasingly uses the concept of phase changes between states to understand why social and biological transformations appear punctuated rather than linear. In evolutionary game theory, cooperative social agents may be individually less fit than competitive ones, but with a sufficient number of cooperative agents working together in close proximity and the game itself changes - now cooperation dominates.

Capital is more than simply an accumulation of surplus value; its mere concentration transforms it into a different category of social relationship. Capitalists are not merely ‘rich people’ who consume more than most; wealth generates social relationships that are qualitatively different from what agents without capital can enter into and it those relationships - not any particular quantity of money - that anti-capitalists must critique. In my first book, “Politics for the New Dark Age: Staying Positive Amidst Disorder” I already made use of this dialectical concept:

“[I]t is [conceptually] hard to distinguish politically and economically between poverty and inequality. Inequality can exist without absolute poverty, but the opposite is not true. They exist on a continuum and blur into one another. But in a rights-based framework, the distinction is clear. Poverty constitutes a denial of fundamental economic, social and cultural rights. Its existence negates the basic humanity of those affected; poverty is an either/or question. One either has access to adequate housing, education and health care or does not. Inequality constitutes the relative deprivation of those rights; it means that basic human needs are satisfied, but that access to different qualities of grades of that right is dependent on the economic power. Inequality is a distribution problem.”

What I was arguing, and this is a position that I stand by today, is that although there may be a certain distribution of injustice and unfairness in society (individual acts of violence or prejudice, bad luck, poor destruction, market failures etc.), when the quantity of these injustices increases above a certain threshold they can be treated as something entirely different - a systemic injustice. The core conceptual flaw of centrist IDW, ‘classical liberal’ types is their inability to be aware that injustice is more than merely the behaviour of individual bad actors - but rather that on a certain scale it transcends the actions or intent of individuals, and can only be perpetuated - or ended - through collective action. Systemic racism, sexism and transphobia are more than simply ‘lots of prejudice’ or ‘lots of bias’ in a quantitative sense. When prejudice is widespread, it can form a self-sustaining social equilibrium through the mutual constitution of social agents,

The negation of the negations

Finally, the third ‘law’ of dialectical materialism is the one most obtusely expressed, most commonly taught and most frequently misunderstood. The ‘negation of the negation’ simply observes the tendency for contradictions within a category to be resolved or dissolved as a materialist system transitions to a ‘higher’ level of organisation. In historical materialism - Marxism as applied to political economy - this resolution of the Hegelian dialectic represents the moment of revolutionary transition from one form of social organisation to another. Feudalism and capitalism were and are stable social structures, but they are also held together through dynamic tension and contradictions, that can fade away through the transition to a different mode of production. The original negations do not continue in their original form; instead, the new society [which is also a dynamic system] gives rise necessarily to a new a different set of contradictions.

It is important to note that as with all ‘laws’ of dialectical materialism, this is an observation, or an insight, not a prediction. There is a tendency in dynamic systems towards greater scale and complexity - but the timeline on which this occurs is not fixed and relies on both changes in the material environment and the accumulation of a vast number of small changes, that on their own, mean little but which in aggregate build towards an entirely new entity. In evolutionary biology, John Maynard-Smith called these moments of rupture ‘major evolutionary transitions’: think of when amino acids organised themselves into DNA, or proteins into cells, or cells into animals and plants, an individual organisms into complex ecosystems. When a major evolutionary transition occurs, there is a seemingly irrevocable change in the nature of a natural system. At this point, the individual agents which previously had an existence of their own now exist only as parts of a new whole, and can no longer sustain themselves outside of it; in turn, the new organism operates as a unique system in motion at a higher level of analysis.

Dialectical materialism, like evolutionary biology, therefore contains within it the hint of something like the inevitability of Progress (with a capital P) - not so different from Hegel after all. Of course, social and biological change is historically contingent, subject to reverses and unraveling, and operates on exceedingly long time periods. But the moral arc of the universe does bend ever so slightly towards justice, as MLK once famously said. This is because dynamic systems contain contradictions which tend to relax, dissipating the potential energy they contain. And the extinction of contradiction necessarily means the extinction of the order which it underpinned. Heteronormativity required the oppression of LGBT people, who fought to liberate themselves and thereby undermined heteronormativity as a whole, simultaneously liberating the straight majority from its grasp.

Classical Marxists made the understandable (albeit regrettable) mistake of believing that such transitions in human social life were not only inevitable but imminent. Like naïve Darwinists, they conceptualised human history as a series of fixed stages of increasing moral and economic complexity (from higher to lower). This kind of metaphysical, positivist thinking was common in the late nineteenth century - we cannot blame those living in such times from failing to fully escape the grips of the zeitgeist which, in Marxists terms, determined their ideology! Often, critics of dialectical materialism, like critics of social Darwinism, have in mind this sequential, nineteenth-century ideology - which I suspect is also easy for the metaphysician to understand. But the vulgar Marxists who understand dialectical material in these simple, categorical terms are not engaging with it as a method. It is merely sufficient to conclude by noting what Engels himself wrote near the end of his life: ‘For dialectical philosophy nothing is final, absolute, sacred. It reveals the transitory character of everything and in everything; nothing can endure before it except the uninterrupted process of becoming and of passing away, of endless ascendancy from the lower to the higher’.

Progress, like history, never ends.

Do genes matter? The hereditarian left wants you to act as if they do

The ‘hereditarian left’ is having a moment. I first wrote about this - still largely hypothetical - political tendency two-and-a-half years ago in the aftermath of the Sam Harris-Ezra Klein affair. That blog remains to this day one of the most viewed items on my page, largely I think because so few writers employ the terminology. That appears set to change, somewhat, with the publication of - and largely positive critical reaction to - “The Genetic Lottery: Why DNA matters for social equality” by Dr Paige Harden. Harden was on the side of the angels during the Sam Harris affair but as a fascinating profile in the New Yorker makes clear, she wants her new book to persuade those on the left ‘who insist that genes don’t matter’ of the error of their ways. As the New Yorker accurately notes,

“Harden is not alone . . . Last year, Fredrik deBoer published “The Cult of Smart,” which argues that the education-reform movement has been trammeled by its willful ignorance of genetic variation. Views associated with the “hereditarian left” have also been articulated by the psychiatrist and essayist Scott Alexander and the philosopher Peter Singer. Singer told me, of Harden, “Her ethical arguments are ones that I have held for quite a long time. If you ignore these things that contribute to inequality, or pretend they don’t exist, you make it more difficult to achieve the kind of society that you value.[Emphasis added]

Indeed, both DeBoer and Pinker have separately been crowing at the positive reception Harden’s latest has received. From the outset, I want to be clear that I’ve not yet read The Genetic Lottery, or DeBoer’s Cult of Smart for that matter. So this is not a book review. But I am familiar with both their work - I’ve cited Harden in the past - and despite his talents as a writer I’ve criticised DeBoer over his insistence that genetic variability in humans provides “the strongest possible argument for socialism”. I have no particular axe to grind with Harden and I trust, on the basis of other reviews I’ve read, that her new book is fair-minded summary of the science written by a world-renowned expert in the field and leavened with some standard social democratic politics. What I do take issue with is with the framing of the New Yorker piece - and Harden’s and DeBoer’s general thesis - that progressives need to be convinced that ‘genes matter’ and alter their political programs accordingly. But as we shall see, the real question is: what does it mean for something to ‘matter’?

Put simply, the argument of the handful of writers who make up the ‘hereditarian left’ is not dissimilar from that of the sex essentialists and evopsych gurus who argue for misogyny or against trans rights, or the ‘race realists’ of the like of Charles Murray and his many acolytes, or much of the heterodox thinking of the IDW [I’m not claiming they’re morally equivalent, just similarly fallacious]. All of these social movements and groups - containing an overrepresentation of aggrieved or wannabe scientists - argue passionately and at length that some observable trait (‘x’) in humans exists (or ‘is real’, or ‘matters’), which therefore [waves hands] justifies their [often reactionary] politics. When the left says we don’t care whether trait x is real, or that trait x ‘doesn’t matter’ to our politics, our lack of interest is caricatured with some snarl word like ‘blank slatists’ (Pinker’s idiotic term), science denialists or ‘cognitive creationists’. Whereas what’s actually happening is that the supposed heterodox thinkers are committing the most basic of errors - that of deriving an ‘ought’ from an ‘is’ - of trying to justify and legitimise their preferred policy positions on the basis of supposed natural facts.

Genes influence behaviour, obviously, but whether that ‘matters’ depends on your frame of reference

The intransitive verb ‘to matter’ is one of those English words that sounds significant but whose meaning is vague and imprecise. Dictionaries tell us its a synonym for ‘important’, or something we care about. If x is some trait or observation, then x ‘matters’ or is relevant only if there is some relationship or function f(x) that produces a desirable goal or output. However, the essence of political disagreement is that humans rarely agree on what goals are ‘good’ or desirable, and whether the methods used to get there are legitimate. In other words, two people can only agree to normative (‘should’) statements when they implicitly or explicitly share the same objectives. For example, we can agree you should exercise but if and only if we first agree that fitness or health is our common goal.

I’ve written before that perhaps the single largest philosophical challenge of contemporary liberalism is the ‘problem of inequality’. To paraphrase Rousseau, man is born equal, but is everywhere unequal. Once liberal societies granted formal, legal equality to all citizens, the question became what degree of social, cultural and economic inequality could be tolerated before the narrative fiction that all human beings are alike in dignity could no longer be defended. The various liberal theodicies which have sprung up in response to this question give structure and context to the vast majority of contemporary political movements. On the progressive side - which includes both the anti-capitalist left and various types of left-liberals - our view is that when people are unequal we should change society somewhat to improve their conditions. Conservatives - including mainstream centre-right liberals and reactionaries - think that inequality is cool and normal, actually, and that we shouldn’t take any steps that would alter the status quo.

So yes, genes influence behaviour to some degree. Obviously. How we measure that influence, it’s mechanisms of action, and how it interacts with other sources of variability including socialisation, environment and pure dumb luck, are questions we can debate. But the influence is ‘real’, in the sense that it is observable, measurable, and falsifiable. In much the same way, sex traits and sexed differences are ‘real’ and group differences in behaviour are ‘real’ - but there is a difference between a fact being real (or provable) and a fact ‘mattering’. Your chromosomes and genitals simply don’t matter to the social performance of gender, for example. Your skin colour shouldn’t matter for your access to civil and political rights. Many observable human traits are simply irrelevant to both politics and political philosophy. A fact is only relevant if it changes how you pursue your goals – and progressives and conservatives have fundamentally different political goals. Which suggests that the same things may not matter in the same way to different people.

I’m just spitting science, bro

Harden was a graduate student and protégé of Eric Turkheimer, a behavioural geneticist whose views on this subject I respect immensely. In 1997, Turkheimer wrote an essay in which he argued that:

“A psychometric left would recognize that human ability, individual differences in human ability, measures of human ability, and genetic influences on human ability are all real but profoundly complex, too complex for the imposition of biogenetic or political schemata. It would assert that the most important difference between the races is racism, with its origins in the horrific institution of slavery only a very few generations ago. Opposition to determinism, reductionism and racism, in their extreme or moderate forms, need not depend on blanket rejection of undeniable if easily misinterpreted facts like heritability, or useful if easily misapplied tools like factor analysis. Indeed it had better not, because if it does the eventual victory of the psychometric right is assured.”

So he, too, I think would agree that progressive engagement with the science is important in order to rebut right-wing attempts to naturalise inequality - but the science cannot then form the basis of a just ‘political schemata’. So, a brief overview of the science of behavioural genetics - at least as I understand it from Turkheimer’s work - seems warranted. The origins of the field lie in so-called twin studies (DeBoer, I think fairly, calls these kinship studies as their basic unit of analysis is family relationships). If two siblings with a known degree of genetic relatedness (r) are raised, by circumstance, apart - and then their life outcomes are subsequently measured - it is in theory possible to calculate the effective contribution of genes vis-a-vis other facts such as upbringing, environment and random chance. Heritability, then, is an estimate of the contribution of biology to outcomes - in other words, if you had a large number of clones of an individual, to what degree their behaviour would vary as a result of non-genetic causes.

Twin studies are notoriously difficult to design - human lives are complex, and the potential confounding factors are many. More importantly, however, because of their limited number of available subjects twin studies tell you very little about the genetic variation within the broader population and next-to-nothing about genetic variation between populations. A twin study cannot tell you which genes are influencing outcomes or by what mechanism they are acting - only that biological similarity plays some role. The second stage of behavioural genetics - which took place largely in the 1990s and early 2000s - was premised on the idea that advances in scientific knowledge, in particular the completion of the Human Genome Project, would allow the identification of the ‘genes for’ particular traits. This turned out to be a disappointment. DNA is rarely so simple, and with the exception of some single-nucleotide polymorphisms (SNPs) associated with particular diseases, it turned out most genetic influence was pleiotropic - many genes influence many traits, through complex interactions and subtle influences that are often poorly understood. The challenge increases exponentially when we try to measure genetic influence over complex behaviours such as learning, sociability and sexuality.

Which brings us to the third and contemporary moment - that of the genome-wide association study (or ‘GWAS’). Readers may be vaguely familiar with the concept of factor analysis - which among other things is used in the psychological literature to generate measurement constructs such as g (for general intelligence). By combining the results of multiple tests (e.g. for language, spatial awareness, mathematical ability and problem solving), one can mathematically construct a single variable which best explains performance across multiple domains. A polygenic score is similar to this, but more complex by several orders of magnitude. Very sophisticated computer programs construct thousands or even millions of models combining the tiny influences of hundreds or even thousands of SNPs on an observed trait, settling on a model that offers the best statistical fit to the data. A polygenic score then sums up in a single variable the effect of all those genes - even if the specific identity of those genes or their mechanism of action remains unknown. Once again, these scores can produce quite good evidence of a genetic influence in diseases - the evidence, so far, for behavioural influence remains much weaker.

Turkheimer remains a vocal critic of the GWAS approach. Apart from the significant problem that a polygenic score is a statistical construct divorced from any investigation of the physical mechanism of action, the use of large data sets and machine learning to construct models means the field is doing something akin to ‘p-hacking’ - combing through data until an algorithm finds a result of statistical significance. The GWAS methodology is similar to the data mining approach used by many tech firms - the sort of analysis that predicts that consumers who wear red shoes on Thursdays are x% more likely to buy your product - and shares a similar problem in terms of model selection and validity. The most serious problem with polygenic scores, according to Turkheimer, is that the confidence intervals are rarely reported. A polygenic score may give you an estimate of the influence of your genes on, say, academic performance, but within a fairly wide band. So the predictive validity of a polygenic score for any given individual may be low - these are first and foremost population statistics. Large groups of people with particular scores may on average display the predicted traits, but the likelihood that any one individual will develop it is low. They are - like racial stereotypes or gender norms - poor predictors of individual behaviour and unsuitable for use in public policy formation.

As the New Yorker piece makes clear, Harden has moved away from her mentor’s scepticism in recent years - by all accounts, The Genetic Lottery is optimistic about the potential of the GWAS approach. There are hints in the piece at Harden’s evolving views - as a southerner with an evangelical background, a political ‘pragmatist’, and a successful white woman unaccustomed to receiving pushback from her left Harden is trying to identify the middle ground of these arguments. She highlights the importance of the genetic influence on behaviour while disavowing the dark policy prescriptions of the likes of Charles Murray and the race science crowd. But I - and most others on the left - would be sceptical that this is a line that can be walked, and definitely reject DeBoer’s thesis that it must be walked in order for the left to achieve its goals.

We just love debating tactics, don’t we?

The default progressive position is that we should remedy all social and economic inequalities regardless of cause. It’s not that genes don’t matter, is that no source of inequality matters. If your standard of living is below the poverty line we should fix that immediately without making moral or scientific inquiries as to why that circumstance has arisen. The real debate, if there is to be one, between the hereditarian left and other progressives is ultimately one of tactics (and oh boy, does the left love debating tactics!). To quote Harden from the New Yorker: “If you want to help people, you have to know what’s most effective, so you need the science.” In other words, is the left making our job of social reform harder by ignoring the science, as Peter Singer believes? Harden’s - and particular DeBoer’s - central contention is that in a realistic political environment, with limited space for progressives to pursue their priorities and the need to persuade others, the genetic influence on behaviour is a relevant source of inequality that should be factored into policy-making. Most socialists, for their part, argue that the dominant source of inequality is social structures and that until those social structures are changed, other interventions are likely to fail.

So DeBoer argues that education reforms have historically failed because they failed to take the genetic influence on cognition seriously. But perhaps a more parsimonious socialist critique would be that centrist plans that heavily focused on punishing teachers as part of an ideological project to undermine public schools were poorly conceived from the start. Until we begin to make serious structural changes to the allocation of resources in society, we simply cannot say that the material environment is not a significant factor shaping life outcomes for individuals. DeBoer and Harden would likely respond that kind of political and social revolution is impossible, and that the better political tactic would be to argue on the basis of luck-egalitarianism that the genetically disadvantaged are not to blame for their poor life outcomes, and that the state has a role to play in compensating for such undeserved inequality. Maybe, in the short term, they’re right. Luck egalitarianism is a respectable liberal philosophical position. But as the philosopher Elizabeth Anderson has written, any liberalism that is predicated on the unlucky demonstrating their inferiority in order to receive aid from their social superiors undermines the promise of equal dignity at the heart of the liberal system. And given the innate human concern for relative social status, we’ve repeatedly seen that subaltern groups know and despise when elites treat them with pity - which in turn gives succour to reactionary forces.

Not just tactics - strategy

One of the most important political lessons I’ve learned - from the comms specialist Anat Shenkar Osorio - is that tactically sound decisions can be counterproductive in the long-term if they cede the framing of an issue to the right. Even if the hereditarian left was offering tactically sound advice - that interventions based on genetic influence on behaviour were more effective and more persuasive in moving people to support them - it would be strategically unsound. Because conservatives simply do not care about remedying social and economic inequalities. So when the hereditarian left argues that genes matter, they inevitably provide significant succour and support to the right, who can say “Yes, we agree, genes do matter, because they mean that some degree of hierarchy and inequality is natural and inevitable.” Which tends to put an end to movements for social reform.

I strongly suspect that the reason so much of the literature on genes and behaviour is focused on intelligence and academic performance is to, in some sense, legitimise and justify the liberal meritocratic ideal. Academic and journalistic elites - such as Harden, Pinker and DeBoer - are products of an education system that has granted them access to outsized social standing and influence. As the French economist Thomas Piketty has described, the Brahmin left values educational competition because they see their own achievements in that field as legitimising their social position. But if universities are just printing degrees for middle- and upper-class children whose parents paid their way through adolescence, then the Brahmin left’s social position - and the liberal meritocracy they promote - is in some sense illegitimate. For Pinker and the classical [right] liberal IDW crowd in particular, if academic achievement is sorting on the basis of something ‘real’ and unchangeable (i.e. genes), then the meritocratic hierarchy - Jordan Peterson’s hierarchy of talent - is legitimate and defensible.

Conservatives are simply uninterested in changing the status quo to remedy inequality. Whatever Harden and DeBoer may think, the right are not looking to be persuaded on this point, or to persuade others to implement egalitarian social policies. What they are looking for is evidence that legitimises and naturalises inequality and hierarchy, which in turn makes their job of resisting change and persuading others to resist change easier. So when the ‘hereditarian left’ argue that seeking change to social structures won’t be effective in eliminating inequality, or that certain inequalities are fixed and unalterable, they are doing the right’s work for them. So politically speaking, the genetic influence on behaviour doesn’t matter for the left because, in the first instance, we probably can’t make use of it, and in the second, doing so would actively aid our ideological opponents. Plenty of leftists can be and are interested in the science - myself included - and relish the intellectual opportunity to debate its merits. But it simply has no bearing on our politics other than being able to argue against the genetic essentialists and race realists. And that’s where Harden, Singer, DeBoer and their fellow travelers are gravely wrong. The hereditarian left is a dangerous, dead end.

Surprise! HBO's "The Nevers" is political [spoilers]

Spoiler warning for the first half-season of the “The Nevers”. You’ve been warned. Seriously.

HBO has a new prestige drama. You probably haven’t seen it - if the ratings are anything to go by, very few people have - and the critic reviews of the first batch of six episodes have not been kind. If you know one thing about the series, it’s probably from the original trailers [see below] which pitched it as a female-led ‘Victorian steampunk X-men’. If you know a second thing about it, it that’s creator and showrunner Joss Whedon ‘removed himself’ from the production when his long history of abusive and manipulative behind-the-scenes behaviour was reported widely in the press last year.

The ‘Victorian X-Men’ framework sums up the central conceit of the show fairly well. After a mysterious event in late-nineteenth century London, some people - mostly women - begin displaying superpowers, which makes them an target for widespread social fear and violence. A wealthy benefactor in a wheelchair with mixed motives begins gathering the so-called ‘Touched’ at a school/orphanage, while secretly battling against a sisterhood of ‘evil’ mutants. . . I mean, Touched . . .led by a villain with a ties to our protagonist who risks triggering a repressive blacklash from mainstream society. There are even direct equivalents to Mr Sinister, the Mutant Registration Act, the Hellfire Club and other X-men plotlines. So if we are to read ‘The Nevers’ as being political, we must first recognise that it’s highly derivative of the Marvel comics of the ‘60s and 70s.

This derivativeness is at least partly responsible for the show’s poor reception. We’ve seen all this before - it’s standard Whedon-esque ‘women and minorities good’, ‘Victorian patriarchal aristocrats bad’ framing that is essentially hegemonic in high culture. Simple and effective, but a little on the nose. The show’s immense, bloated cast and confused storytelling don’t help. And character motivation often swings wildly between episodes - the sure sign of a production that was scrambling to find its groove. Shutting down filming due to COVID-19 last year also clearly made things worse - I’ve seen speculation on social media the last two episodes were at least partially assembled in the editing room from the footage they had available pre-lockdown and pre-Joss Whedon’s departure. The big twist from the pilot - that superpowers are a result of being infected with spores [?] from a crashed [?} alien [?] spaceship [?} - was intriguing enough to get me watching, but I wasn’t sure I was going to stick with the show for long.

A superficial political reading

Throughout most of the first season, the Touched are opposed by a cabal of influential men led by the villainous [?] Lord Massen - an arms manufacturer who we see threaten striking workers, who believes in the death penalty as a deterrent and conspires with criminals to control London. The members of this cabal are all generic stand-ins for various aspects of the ‘establishment’ - one wears a British military uniform, another represents the Royal Family and so on. Despite hints that his own daughter is Touched (and thus leaving open the door for a future, Cheney-esque redemption arc), Massen gives several reactionary monologues throughout the first season on the threat posed by these suddenly empowered women (and minoritized men) to ‘order’. In his belief that the appearance of superheroes in Great Britain is an ‘attack’ and an attempt to destabilise British society by some hidden and unknown antagonist, we also see a hint of the anti-semitic and conspiratorial tropes that historical underwrite such reactionary beliefs.

In the context, the political objective of minoritised populations such the the Touched is merely survival. The established regime is highly punitive, and potentially genocidal. The only alternative, represented by Lord Swan’s Ferryman’s Club, is commercial and sexual exploitation. The only way forward is for virtuous oppressed groups - including women, sexual and racial minorities - to band together and defend one another. On the other hand, violent radicals (in this story, represented by the deranged Touched serial killer Maladie) must also be stopped, lest they incite social conflict to get out of hand. In this reading, ‘The Nevers’ is therefore little more than a heavy-handed liberal fantasy, in which oppressed minorities fight for their place in repressive society with the aid of superpowers which, in real life, they didn’t possess. In reality, a hundred years of social conflict had to pass before women warriors, black doctors and gay police officers became commonplace and uncontroversial.

Episode Six and the turn

And then we come to Episode 6 “True” - the mid-season finale - written by Buffy alum Jane Espenson and reportedly produced at least in part following Joss Whedon’s departure. In the show’s second major twist, we final get the complete backstory of our protagonist, and ‘leader’ of the Touched, Lady Amalia True. And its a doozy. We flashed forward hundreds [?] of years to a dystopian future where the fanatical True Life movement and the stock good-guy Planetary Defense Coalition (‘PDC’) are fighting over the ruins of Earth [?] devastated by pollution and nuclear war. The alien Galanthi have arrived to help humanity save itself with planetary-preserving technology and insight, but it’s too late. The True Life movement have killed all but one Galanthi - which they are holding prisoner and torturing - and which is now trying to activate a portal and escape. Is it trying to flee, having given up on trying to help humanity? Or is it going home to gather more of its kind and prepare an invasion?

Among the battle-scarred soldiers fighting over the last Galanthi is Zephyr, portrayed by sci-fi veteran Claudia Black. Zephyr is jaded and burned out from a lifetime of war - struggling with PTSD and a morphine addiction. In a key piece of dialogue, Zephyr admits she just doesn’t get the point of fighting any more - ‘victory’ always seem close but never actually arrives. Things always seem to get worse. “This close is always where we end up. It’s where we all fold. This close, change is too scary, even for the people who fight for it”. It’s a very familiar sort of weary resignation I’ve heard from many socialists and others on the left in the aftermath the Bernie and Corbyn moments, the sort of world-weary nihilism that fuels vicious infighting and cynicism. Nevertheless, like a true hero, at the end of the day, Zephyr decides to do the right thing, fight for the Galanthi and help it escape.

And then things get bananas (although, to be fair, there were hints). The portal, as it turns out, traverses time as well as space. And it takes the dying Zephyr’s soul [?] or memories [?] with it. So when the Galanthi distributes its spores over London as we saw it do in the pilot episode, it deposits Zephyr in the body of down-on-her luck slum dweller Amalia ‘Molly’ True, who has chosen just that moment to commit suicide, leaving her body conveniently vacant. It’s inferred, though never stated outright, that the Galanthi have changed their plans - they’re now interfering in human history earlier, and more directly, than they were willing to in the past, having failed to change humanity’s fate in the future. Zephyr - now stuck in True’s body - is shocked to learn that that Galanthi spores give the residents of the nineteenth century superpowers - in her time, those who ingested the spores simply become more intelligent, insightful and/or empathetic.

We can read this development in several ways: literal, allegorical or metaphorical. On the one hand, aliens interfering in human history to change the outcome is a reliable sci-fi premise. And at the metaphorical level, turning women and people of colour into superheroes grants “The Nevers” the superficial wish-fulfilment politics reading already discussed. But the allegorical reading is potentially the most interesting. We shouldn’t interpret the ‘Victorian steampunk X-men’ plot on its own terms, but rather as the creation of 21st-century beings who have political experiences not dissimiar to the audience’s own. Whereas previously, the Galanthi might have hoped that smarter more empathetic people would make for a more cooperative society, now it/they are just arming the oppressed and letting them loose. Are they out for revenge? Have they been driven mad? Have they lost hope? We don’t know. As a post-Bernie millennial socialist, the impulse of just ‘arming the proletariat’ and seeing what happens resonated with me; I wouldn’t necessarily attribute that degree of cynicism to Espenson - given the show’s production schedule, it just as likely reflects the general liberal/progressive disillusionment of the Trump era. But whatever the political message, it serves as a meta-commentary on disillusionment, how progress is made, and the necessity of direct action - political themes rarely encountered in mainstream entertainment.

Socialism and the nature of political existence

The emphasis on the political as a process - and not just as an enactment of the symbolic - is made clear towards the end of the episode in dialogue between True and her 19th-century protege, the scientific genius Penance. True, in this moment, has explained the full nature of her reality and the mission she has inherited from the Galanthi. “It is upsetting; the future being so grim,” Penance admits freely. It won’t be simple to change the human race’s fate, “But it’s a life’s work. Like as not to drive us mad. Or get us killed. And we’ll never know if we’ve done enough, or done it right.” As we all come to realise that the political revolution is not imminent, and may not happen in our lifetimes, those socialists among us sober enough to have a sense of historical perspective have come to see their political life in precisely these terms. We may not see it done, we may lose more often than not. But the nature of the work gives up purpose, and hope. Which is a form of existential gift more deeply satisfying than a simple tale of heroes and villains. I can’t vouch for whether or not ‘The Nevers’ has a future beyond its first season. But it made me think, and feel, and that’s high praise indeed.