Читать книгу The Coming of Neo-Feudalism - Joel Kotkin - Страница 8

CHAPTER 1

The Feudal Revival

Feudalism is making a comeback, long after it was believed to have been deposited into the historical dustbin. Of course it will look different this time around: we wont see knights in shining armor, or vassals doing homage to their lords, or a powerful Catholic Church enforcing the reigning orthodoxy. What we are seeing is a new form of aristocracy developing in the United States and beyond, as wealth in our postindustrial economy tends to be ever more concentrated in fewer hands. Societies are becoming more stratified, with decreasing chances of upward mobility for most of the population. A class of thought leaders and opinion makers, which I call the “clerisy,” provide intellectual support for the emerging hierarchy. As avenues for upward mobility are diminishing, the model of liberal capitalism is losing appeal around the globe, and new doctrines are arising in its place, including ones that lend support to a kind of neo-feudalism.

Historically, feudalism was hardly a monolithic system, and it lasted much longer in some places than others. But certain salient features can be seen in feudal structures across medieval Europe: a strongly hierarchical ordering of society, a web of personal obligations tying subordinates to superiors, the persistence of closed classes or “castes,” and a permanent serflike status for the vast majority of the population.¹ The few dominated the many as by natural right. Feudal governance was far more decentralized than either the Roman Empire that preceded it or the nation-states that followed, and it depended more on personal relationships than does liberal capitalism or statist socialism. But in the feudal era a static ideal of an ordered society, supported by a mandatory orthodoxy, prevailed over dynamism and mobility, in a condition of economic and demographic stagnation.

The clearest parallel in our own time is the concentration of wealth in fewer hands, following upon an era of robust social mobility. In the second half of the twentieth century, growing prosperity was widely shared in the developed world, with an expanding middle class and an upwardly mobile working class—something seen in many developing countries as well. Today, the benefits of economic growth in most countries are going mainly to the wealthiest segment of the population. One widely cited estimate suggests that the share of global wealth held by the top 0.1 percent of the global population increased from 7 percent in 1978 to 22 percent in 2012.² A recent British parliamentary study indicates that this global trend will continue: by 2030, the top 1 percent is expected to control two-thirds of the world’s wealth.³

This wealth tends to be handed down from one generation to the next, creating something akin to a closed aristocracy. It may not have a legally privileged status or political power by right of inheritance, but its wealth can buy influence with government and over the culture. Thus we see an oligarchy emerging in supposedly democratic countries, with a neo-feudal aristocracy grafted onto a powerful central state.

As in the Middle Ages, the power and privilege of this oligarchy are supported by an influential cognitive elite, or what I call the clerisy. The term was coined by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, who envisioned a group of secular intellectuals guiding society with their knowledge, as the cultural role of the church waned. Today’s clerisy are the people who dominate the global web of cultural creators, academia, the media, and even much of what remains of traditional religious institutions. They share many beliefs with the oligarchs—on globalism and the environment, for example—and spread them around to the wider population as a secular orthodoxy. But like the medieval clergy, they sometimes act as a check on the power of economic elites.

The clerisy and the oligarchy correspond to the medieval clergy and nobility—or the First Estate and Second Estate, as they came to be known in France. Beneath them are the vastly larger group corresponding to the “commoners” in the feudal era, or the Third Estate: those who were neither anointed nor ennobled. Today’s Third Estate, which I call the “yeomanry,” has two distinct parts. There is a property-owning middle class, analogous to the old English yeomanry but with the same spirit of independence transported into an urban or suburban context. Historically the yeomanry played a critical part in overturning the feudal order—but today their counterparts are being squeezed beneath the oligarchy. Second, there is a working class who are becoming more like medieval serfs, with diminishing chances of owning significant assets or improving their lot except with government transfers.

Although the two groups that constitute the Third Estate are falling behind, they can still pose a challenge to the oligarchs and the clerisy, as they are no longer quiescent in the face of globalism and technological obsolescence. We are seeing what one sociologist describes as “the defection of the working class” from a traditional allegiance to the political left, along with a simultaneous rejection of global capitalism and its cosmopolitan value structure.⁴ Though the challenge to the oligarchy tends to come from the populist right, there are other forces that could attack from another direction, particularly younger workers and the less affluent portions of the clerisy, who together might form what one conservative writer has described as “a zombie army of anti-capitalists.”⁵ Even as a new feudalism appears to be setting in, it is stirring up counterforces that promise turbulent times.

History Also Regresses

History does not always move forward, to a more advanced or enlightened condition. The collapse of classical civilization is a case in point. That civilization had its cruel and unjust aspects, including the extensive use of slaves, but it also engendered cultural, civic, and economic dynamism that spread from the Near East to Spain, North Africa, and Britain. It developed a body of philosophy, law, and institutional forms that laid the basis of modern liberalism. But as classical civilization unraveled—from a combination of internal dysfunction and external pressure—its territories devolved into political disorder, cultural decline, and economic and demographic stagnation.

While we can put a date to the end of the Roman Empire in the West, the process of cultural decline extended over centuries. The backward trajectory is clear by the sixth or seventh century, in the demise of learning, the rise of religious fanaticism, the decline of cities and the collapse of trade, and Malthusian stagnation: Europe’s population in the year 1000 was about the same as it had been a millennium earlier.⁶ The formerly vibrant urban middle orders had faded away, and the class of landowning peasants shrank as agricultural land was consolidated into huge estates. Class relations became more rigidly hierarchical, with a hereditary nobility and powerful clerics at the top. These ruling classes often competed and fought among themselves, but they were distinctly privileged in comparison with most of the population, who would endure life as landless serfs. The ideal vision of society was static, and the aim was not to find new fields to plow, not to innovate or grow, but instead to maintain an equilibrium within a largely fixed system.⁷

In the second millennium, markets and towns began to grow again, craft guilds formed, philosophy and learning quickened. The Third Estate was rising: both rural smallholders and a prospering, literate bourgeoisie in the growing cities. With prosperity came a bigger public voice, and the Catholic Church and the nobility gradually lost power as a consequence. A system based on free markets, liberal values, and a belief in progress evolved in Europe and spread to North America and Oceania.

Like all social structures, the liberal order brought its own injustices. Most shamefully, slavery was revived and extended to newly colonized territories. In addition, the industrial revolution replaced cottage industries with factories and created an impoverished urban proletariat living at the very edge of subsistence. But during the twentieth century, especially after the Second World War, life became measurably better even for most of the working class, and the middle orders continued to grow in prosperity and numbers. Some government action came into play—for example, subsidizing homeownership, building new infrastructure, and permitting labor unions. Linking such policies to the engines of economic growth promoted a mass movement to affluence, the premier achievement of liberal capitalism.

Although liberal capitalism has generated many social, political, and environmental challenges, it has freed hundreds of millions from the widespread servility, entrenched cruelty, and capricious regimes that have dominated most of history. The material conditions of life have improved dramatically, not only in Europe and America but throughout much of the world. In the five hundred years up to around 1700, economic output per capita was flat, which means that a person of median income in 1700 was no better off, economically speaking, than the average person in 1200. By the mid-1800s, particularly in the West, economic output had increased markedly; the growth accelerated after 1940 and spread to the rest of the world.⁸

Bending the “Arc of History”

Liberal capitalism first fueled Western dominance, and then the economic rise of other countries as well. The economic boom that followed the end of the Second World War and extended to large parts of the world with the collapse of Communism nurtured confidence about the global future. The key to increasing prosperity appeared to be in our hands. Optimistic notions about an “arc of history” bending inexorably to greater prosperity and social justice were embraced on both right and left—for example, by President George W. Bush and by President Barack Obama.⁹

Beginning in the 1970s, the arc started bending backward in the regions that gave birth to capitalism and modern democracy—Europe, Australia, and North America. Upward mobility for the middle and working classes began to stall, while the fortunes of the upper classes rose dramatically. Economies kept growing, but most of the benefits were harvested by the very rich—the top 1 percent and especially the top 0.1 percent—while the middle classes lost ground.¹⁰

In 1945–1973, the top 1 percent in America captured just 4.9 percent of total U.S. income growth, but in the following two decades the richest 1 percent gobbled up the majority of U.S. growth.¹¹ The combined wealth of the richest four hundred Americans now exceeds the total wealth of 185 million of their fellow citizens.¹² In European countries, with their socialistic welfare policies, the upper middle class pays very high taxes while the wealthiest find ways to hide their income sufficiently to maintain and even increase their dominance. Surprisingly, in progressiveoriented countries such as Finland, stock ownership is considerably more concentrated among the very richest people than in the United States.

The trend is not only a Western one. In avowedly socialist China, for example, the top 1 percent of the population hold about one-third of the country’s wealth, and roughly 1,300 individuals hold about 20 percent. Since 1978, China’s Gini coefficient, which measures inequality of wealth distribution, has tripled.¹³ Globally, the ultra-rich are an emergent aristocracy. Fewer than one hundred billionaires together now own as much as half of the world’s assets, the same proportion owned by around four hundred people a little more than five years ago.¹⁴

The concentration of wealth is also clear in property ownership. In the United States, the proportion of land owned by the one hundred largest private landowners grew by nearly 50 percent between 2007 and 2017, according to the Land Report. In 2007, this group owned a total of 27 million acres of land, equivalent to the area of Maine and New Hampshire combined; a decade later, the one hundred largest landowners held 40.2 million acres, more than the entire area of New England.¹⁵ In much of the American West, billionaires have created vast estates that many fear will make the rest of the local population land-poor.¹⁶

Landownership in Europe too is becoming more concentrated in fewer hands. In Great Britain, where land prices have risen dramatically over the past decade, less than 1 percent of the population owns half of all the land. On the continent, farmland is being consolidated into larger holdings, while urban real estate has been falling into the hands of a small number of corporate owners and the mega-wealthy.¹⁷

In the United States, long seen as the great land of opportunity, the chance of middle-class earners moving up to the top rungs of the earnings ladder has dropped by approximately 20 percent since the early 1980s.¹⁸ Across the thirty-six wealthier countries of the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, the richest citizens have taken an ever greater share of national GDP, and the middle class has become smaller. Much of the global middle class is heavily in debt, mainly because of high housing costs, and “looks increasingly like a boat in rocky waters,” suggests the OECD.¹⁹ Rates of homeownership are stagnant or plummeting in the high-income world, including the United States, Canada, and Australia.²⁰

Globalization of the economy has served the interests of the upper classes but not the rest. For example, the shift of production to China alone has cost well over a half million manufacturing jobs from Great Britain, once an industrial powerhouse, and an estimated 3.4 million jobs from the United States.²¹ Economists may point to better aggregate growth and lower prices for consumers, but most people do not live in “the aggregate.” They live in their individual reality, which in many cases has gotten bleaker even as the economy overall has improved.

In a world growing more bifurcated, elite communities are surrounded by urban poor and by small towns that are fading and becoming destitute. Globalization “has revived the citadels of medieval France,” writes Christophe Guilluy, a leftist geographer.²² Like the castle towns of Japan or the walled cities of medieval Italy, a few choice locales are enclaves of privilege, while the less appealing places are inhabited by the newly servile classes.²³

The New Power Nexus

Just as the clerical elite shared power with the nobility in the feudal era, a nexus between the clerisy and the oligarchy lies at the core of neo-feudalism. These two classes often attend the same schools and live in similar neighborhoods in cities such as New York, San Francisco, or London. On the whole, they share a common worldview and are allies on most issues, though there are occasional conflicts, as there were between the medieval nobility and clergy. Certainly, they hold similar views on globalism, cosmopolitanism, the value of credentials, and the authority of experts.

This power nexus is enabled by technologies that once were widely seen as holding great promise for grassroots democracy and decision making, but have become tools for surveillance and a consolidation of power. Even as blogs proliferate, giving the appearance of information democracy, a small group of companies—mostly based on the West Coast of the United States—exercise tightening control over the flow of information and the shape of the culture. Our new overlords do not wear chain mail or top hats, but instead direct our future in jeans and hoodies.²⁴ These technocratic elites are the twenty-first-century realization of what Daniel Bell prophetically labeled “a new priesthood of power” based on scientific expertise.²⁵

The future of politics, in the high-income countries at least, will revolve around the ability of the dominant estates to secure the submission of the Third Estate. As in the Middle Ages, this requires imposing an orthodoxy that can normalize and justify a rigid class structure. The power of the nobility in the feudal order was justified through the agencies of religion and custom, blessed by the church. The modern clerisy often claim science as the basis of their doctrines and tout academic credentials as the key to status and authority. They seek to replace the bourgeois values of self-determination, family, community, and nation with “progressive” ideas about globalism, environmental sustainability, redefined gender roles, and the authority of experts. These values are inculcated through the clerisy’s dominance over the institutions of higher learning and media, aided by the oligarchy’s control of information technology and the channels of culture.

Losing Faith in Liberal Democracy

One consequence of the current economic trends is growing pessimism throughout the high-income world. Half of all Europeans believe that future generations will suffer worse economic conditions than they did, according to the Pew Research Center. In France, the pessimistic view predominates by seven to one. A pessimistic trend is also marked in the usually more upbeat societies of Australia (64 percent), Canada (67 percent), and the United States (57 percent). Overall, Pew found that 56 percent of residents in advanced economies believe their children will do worse than they did.²⁶

Pessimism is also growing in East Asia, which has been the economic dynamo of the current era. In Japan, a full three-quarters of those polled expect things to be worse for the next generation, and that expectation also predominates in such successful countries as Taiwan, Singapore, and South Korea.²⁷ Many young people in China have reason for pessimism: in 2017, eight million college graduates entered the job market to find they could only earn salaries that they might have gotten by going to work in a factory straight out of high school.²⁸

Another sign of pessimism is declining birth rates, particularly in the high-income countries. In Europe as well as Japan, and even in the once relatively fecund United States, fertility rates are nearing historic lows, even though young women state a wish to have more children.²⁹ This demographic stagnation, another throwback to the Middle Ages, has various explanations, including women’s high levels of participation in the workforce and a desire for more leisure time. Other reasons are economic, including a shortage of affordable family housing. Liberal capitalism in its heyday built large stretches of affordable housing for the upwardly mobile middle and working classes, but the new feudalism is creating a world where fewer and fewer people can afford to own homes.³⁰ A trend of diminishing expectations has weakened support for liberal capitalism even in solidly democratic countries, particularly among younger people.³¹ Far more than older generations, they are losing faith in democracy, not only in the United States but also in Sweden, Australia, Great Britain, the Netherlands, and New Zealand. People born in the 1970s and 1980s are less strongly opposed to such undemocratic assertions of power as a military coup than are those born in the 1930s, 1940s, and 1950s.³²

Today there is a turning away from democratic liberalism around the world. Authoritarian leaders are consolidating power in countries that previously appeared to be on a liberalizing path—Xi Jinping in China, Vladimir Putin in Russia, Recep Tayyip Erdogan in Turkey. In more democratic countries, we can see a new longing for a strongman—such as the bombastic and often crude Donald Trump, as well as equivalents in Europe, some of them more functionally authoritarian. Many people who are losing faith in the prospects of liberty look for a paternalistic protector instead. Authoritarian leaders often rise by evoking the imagined glories of the past and stoking resentments both old and new. At the end of the Cold War, the world seemed to be traveling on a natural “arc” to a more democratic future, but today’s new world order has instead become a promising springtime for dictators.³³

Peasant Rebellions

The feudal order did not go unchallenged in the Middle Ages: periodically there were peasant uprisings, sometimes led by religious dissidents. Could we see a kind of uprising from within the Third Estate today? The modern yeomanry can still mount a resistance, but the expanding “serf” class, without property or a stake in the system, might prove far more dangerous to the dominant orders.

Like the revolutionaries of 1789, many in today’s Third Estate are disgusted by the hauteur and hypocrisy of the upper classes. In prerevolutionary times, French aristocrats and top clerics preached Christian charity while indulging in gluttony, sexual adventurism, and lavish spending. Today, many in the struggling middle and working classes see the well-to-do displaying their environmental piety by paying “green” indulgences through carbon credits and other virtue-signaling devices, while these “enlightened” policies impose extraordinarily high energy and housing costs on the less well off.³⁴ Alienated elements of the middle and working classes are responding with what might be likened to a modern peasants’ rebellion. It can be seen in a series of angry votes and protests against the policies championed by the clerisy and oligarchy—on climate change, global trade, and migration. This anger was expressed in the election of President Trump, in the support for Brexit, and in the rise of populist parties across Europe.³⁵

Perhaps nowhere is the rebellion more evident than in France: a clear majority of French people regard globalization as a threat, while most executives, many trained at elite schools, see it as an “opportunity.”³⁶ In an echo of 1789, the so-called gilets jaunes (yellow vests) demonstrated against higher gas taxes in the winter of 2018–19. The protests began in small towns, but then moved into the Parisian suburbs.³⁷

In the United States, restiveness among the Third Estate has prompted discussion among the oligarchs and the clerisy about expanding the scope of the welfare state, with subsidies and direct cash payments for the masses, in the hope of staving off rebellion by those who no longer see a possibility of improving their own lot. But will that be enough?³⁸

Is a Feudal Future Inevitable?

The return to feudalism is not necessarily inexorable. To change the course we are on, we first need to understand and acknowledge what is happening. We possess the advantages brought by centuries of liberal capitalism and free intellectual inquiry; we have knowledge of the past feudal era, and of what democratic capitalism achieved. We do not have to be like the proverbial frog slowly boiling, unaware of its fate.

Reversing the slide into a neo-feudal order will require the development of a new political paradigm. The current “progressive” approach to “social justice,” with its attachment to a powerful central government, will only strengthen the clerisy by vesting more authority in the “expert” class. On the other hand, the devotees of market fundamentalism, refusing to acknowledge the dangers of oligarchic power and the harm being done to the middle and working classes, might further a political trajectory that threatens the viability of capitalism itself. Some prominent business executives now recognize the problem and seek ways to remedy it, but there is much less awareness or concern among market ideologues on the right.³⁹

A new perspective is needed, but it can emerge only when the reality of an emergent neo-feudalism is widely acknowledged and its dangers understood. There is still time to challenge this threat to liberal values. “A man may be led by fate,” wrote the great Soviet novelist Vasily Grossman, “but he can refuse to follow.”⁴⁰ The future course of history is never inevitable if we retain the will to shape it.