Anarchy 94/The machinery of conformity
The machinery
of conformity
In the conflict of anarchist aims with the existing social structure it is clearly of vital importance to be fully aware of the tools at the disposal of the State in inducing conformity, and to attempt to work out positive alternatives.
I propose to discuss two central means of bringing about conformity. The first is upbringing, the second the activity of the State towards the adult nonconformist. The child has to cope with two environments—home and school. Both these, as we shall see, are remarkably potent forces for conditioning conformist behaviour patterns. No doubt anarchists are aware of this anyway, but I think it is crucial that we recognize the full depth and extent of it.
In adulthood, the State copes with deviation in two ways—by sending the offender to prison, or giving him psychiatric treatment. Again it is obvious that this is so, but again I feel we must recognize just how important it is.
CHILDHOOD
The parents provide love, in particular the mother. She provides too frustration. At one time she allows the child to feed: at another time she denies him this possibility. The child reacts, reasonably enough, by loving her in the first case and hating her in the second. As he grows older, however, he must adapt to these conflicts. At the same time, he is totally dependent for the satisfaction of his needs on his mother. He must conform: if he does not he is threatened by the withdrawal of the very thing he depends on.
Clearly it is not difficult for the parent to exploit this dependence on her. Progressively she introduces patterns of behaviour that represent conformity to what she wishes for the child and of it. It starts with training it to defecate in the appropriate place: it ends with indoctrinating it with the attitudes of the parents. Sartre remarked: “Long before our birth, even before we are conceived, our parents have decided who we will be.” (Foreword to The Traitor, by Andre Gorz.) But the attitudes of the parent may contradict with those of the society in which they live. And let us remember that however we try not to impose our attitudes on the child, we give them away by our approval or otherwise of their behaviour.
It is well worth noting in all this that the most successful method of conditioning to our society is love—at least to the more“liberal-minded” sections of our society. But at the same time a certain frustration probably helps to produce the more successful businessman. He is less concerned for his fellow man, more with getting what he wants. The petted child though is the same: having got everything from his parents, he intends to get it from society.
Society however produces various child-rearing techniques. These the parent will tend to adhere to. In a society where the middle-classes, at least, have a variety of techniques to choose from, generally running in fashions—as much for the progressive parent, so-called, as for anyone else.
It is more revealing to study the child-rearing techniques of more static societies, as they stand out clearer. But we should not assume from this that our techniques don’t produce conformity: the rapid changes in technique are equalled by changes in technological methods and every other aspect of our culture, if not the basic system of competition—though even this is converting from the direct struggle of the 19th century to competition within an increasingly bureaucratic system of managment that is likely to become more so as time goes on and at the same time increasingly state-controlled or private monopolist (see, e.g., Paul Cardan: Modern Capitalism and Revolution).
Erikson in Childhood and Society provides a good deal of information on two particular examples of the relationship between child-rearing techniques and the demands of the societal structure. It is worth summarizing part of it—the part on the Yurok people. The newborn baby is not breast-fed for ten days: it is then generous and frequent, but it is terminated at the sixth month, the time of teething. The Yuroks’ sweets are salty foods, while pregnant the mother does heavy work, with the general aim of preventing the child from resting against the spine! A taboo on sex until the child can creep vigorously ensures the parents do their best to bring this about. Even during the breast-feeding period, a number of devices are used to prevent the child from feeling too comfortable during this activity.
The supernatural providers arrange that the Yurok salmon fisherman be successful. “The Yurok attitude towards the supernatural providers is a lifelong fervent ‘please’ which seems to be reinforced by a residue of infant nostalgia for the mother from whom he has been disengaged so forcefully.”
The child was taught to slow down his eating, to carry out the whole process rather laboriously, and at the same time to think of getting rich—to concentrate on money and salmon. But he must also be convinced that he means the salmon no harm, and it is said that the fish only leaves its scales, which then turn into salmon on the nets—surely a throwback to the deprivation of the breast when the desire to bite arose, and thus guilt feelings for having wished harm, one might suggest. “All wishful thinking,” says Erikson, “was put in the service of economic pursuits.” He adds: “Later, the energy of genital daydreams is also harnessed to the same economic endeavour. In the ‘sweat house’ the older boy will learn the dual feat of thinking of money and not thinking of women.” Apparently in fact the wife is paid for: the status of the wife and her children is determined by the price the would-be husband offers her father for her. Deviant behaviour among the Yurok is explained solely in terms of the father having made a worthy girl pregnant prematurely—before he could pay for her—or simply married her on a down-payment, and being unable to pay off the instalments. Thus money is even necessary to marry.
The association between the frustration of oral satisfaction and the wish for money and salmon is, as we have seen, made clear. The removal of the breast at the time of biting, reinforced by the general atmosphere of frustration, at the time and later—the whole system of making the child feel uncomfortable, frustrated and thus anxious—is directed into economic gain energy. And thus the Yurok are a money-fixated tribe. But the anxiety has also the effect of making life a long plea—especially the anxiety-invoking situation surrounding oral satisfaction at the breast.
It has been said that “conformist individuals in abnormal cultures—such as the Yurok or the Dobuan—are in fact abnormal in an absolute sense, even though they find complete acceptance within their own culture.” (Andrew Crowcroft: The Psychotic.)
But as Laing in particular brings out very clearly, our own culture does not qualify as the ideal-type. “We are bemused and crazed creatures, strangers to our true selves, to one another, and to the spiritual and material world—mad, even from an ideal standpoint we can glimpse but not adopt. We are born into a world where alienation awaits us. We are potentially men, but in an alienated state, and this state is not simply a natural system … What is to be done? We who are still half alive in the often fibrillating heartland of a senescent capitalism—can we do more than reflect the decay around and within us?” (Politics of Experience.) A point that is accepted by anarchists anyway, so hardly needs stressing.
School is also a crucial means in the process of turning the child into an obedient conformist. This is done, not only by such methods as Citizenship Classes and Religious Instruction. Far more relevant and effective is the indoctrination by the very method in which the teaching is carried out.
Ours is a competitive society. Ninety per cent accept this situation and act out their desires for self-improvement in this atmosphere. Surely it is not irrelevant that the whole system of schooling is one in which success is rewarded and failure punished. Not only this, but the success of one person is the failure of another—the failure, and the humiliation of having failed in front of the whole class. This latter technique is especially effective where the teacher is popular. The more traditional technique of a public punishment for failure served to frighten people into conformity—with the result that they were a much more aggressive type, taking out their sufferings on those who stood in their way.
But we are discussing the modern, and much more effective techniques. For in the traditional method there was the inherent danger that resentment would be transferred from the master to the ruling class. In the modern method this danger is dealt with. The children feel solidarity with the teacher against the failure. The shame is therefore far greater. J. Henry describes a concrete example of this technique of linking competitive success with praise and failure with shame.
A teacher invited a pupil to reduce 12/16 to the lowest terms. He had trouble with it. She ignored the other pupils howling to supply the answer and concentrated on him, telling him to “think”, although he was probably mentally paralysed. Finally she turned to the rest of the class, asked the question, and selected one of the children to supply it. Henry comments: “Boris’s failure made it possible for Peggy to succeed; his misery is the occasion for her rejoicing … Such experiences force every man reared in our culture, over and over again, night in, night out, even at the pinnacle of success, to dream not of success, but of failure.” (Culture Against Man.) One could point out that Peggy’s success would make a dream of this: the two dreams seem to me likely to co-exist. Admittedly Henry is describing an American school, but there seems at least a chance that, as time goes on, we may adopt this kind of technique.
Henry also observes another phenomenon in education. The teacher did not ask who had the answer to the next question, but who would like to provide it. “A skilled teacher sets up many situations in such a way that a negative attitude can only be construed as treason.” Thus the shame is added to by the sense that in failure one has betrayed the group: and how many children want to feel an outcast?
Perhaps, though, the method of the future will be that now present in some primary schools and secondary moderns—the permitting of the child to tackle the subjects it wants at the rate it can cope with. This does seem possible, perhaps more so than the method discussed by Henry. It has one setback—that it is less compatible with society, apparently.
But it is necessary to ask whether in fact this is so. For it does seem unlikely that such a system would develop if it were incompatible with society. In the most modern schools, the teacher, as I understand it, is just there to help. The child decides what it is interested in, and works on this basis, seeking advice from the teacher from time to time, but also using books and other sources of information.
Society can only accept this as a total system if the end is seen as contributing to a career, or to spare-time compensatory activities. Thus the poet and writer of mediocre standard, or better than average, who is not good enough to make the market, has a means of fulfilling himself in his spare time. His leisure horizons are widened. And the gradually shrinking time spent at the factory will thus be less unbearable. The budding scientist is likely to be far better at his job in the end if he has been allowed to work it all out for himself, with just advice and information—he is likely to be a better scientist if his profession springs out of an inner “vocation”.
But these free development techniques are at present confined to primary schools and secondary moderns. In the latter, the assumption is anyway that the children are of average intelligence or below. It may well be that we will get the same techniques in bottom streams in comprehensives, but for the higher levels it seems reasonable to expect a firmer direction being provided by the teacher—a job to aim at being selected and worked towards, particular standards to be reached to get into University.
It does seem possible, on the other hand, to see psychological techniques being introduced more and more, and the use of these to achieve the desired effect (desired by society) even in a supposedly free-development situation. Even now it is obvious that the child is largely reliant on the teacher for advice, and especially in the early stages for information and recommended books. It is in these early stages that the basis for development is laid. Clearly the choice of books and the type of advice and information will be strongly affected by the personality of the teacher—and teachers are not a noticeable revolutionary section of society!
Robert Jay Lifton records a faculty seminar discussion following his having given a talk on the relationship of education to thought reform and ideological totalism. One professor declared that there was no difference, that at this college they did brainwash the children. Another declared that “We do not care what the girls believe when they graduate. Our main concern is that they learn something from their college experience”, but questioned more closely it emerged that she did care what her students believed and what they would become.
A third professor concluded a solution: “Perhaps we can avoid this by holding our beliefs with a certain amount of tension … with an attitude that ‘I believe in this, but recognize that there can be other beliefs in opposition to it’. In this way we can subject any belief which we hold to the tension and pressure of its own limitations and of other alternative beliefs.” Lifton comments that this third professor “grasped the necessity for both commitment and flexibility”. (Thought Reform and Psychology of Totalism.)
But the skilled teacher has succeeded in persuading the child to accept him as someone to be looked up to, like a parent. Therefore the child is more likely to accept his views. The skilled teacher will be able to maintain her authority through the troubled years of adolescence, but being prepared to talk out dissident views.
And it seems not unreasonable to expect that teachers’ training colleges will, in providing techniques, evolve those most likely to induce conformity. The very act of becoming a teacher, indeed, implies a sense of responsibility to the community (whatever the psychological basis for this sentiment), which can be reinforced, and dissident views negated. The teachers would be encouraged to look forward, but within the context of the existing structure—thus any idealistic tendencies would be turned up the blind alleyway of reformism.
Another point that it is important to remember is that adolescent revolt is only a passing phase: we can be sure those who operate the education machine are aware of this. Even in revolt the teenager often continues to hold the same views: but those who move on to the plane of ideological rebellion (a small minority, unfortunately, especially in this country) will move back to earlier conditioned patterns of behaviour and thought. The adult nonconformist will continue to be something of a rare being. In this connection a recent Daily Mail survey of teenage opinion is interesting: it gave surprisingly high figures for the percentage of those who stood by outdated prejudices. Even among the teenagers, a referendum would, apparently, bring back hanging and make life uncomfortable for residents of other pigments.
Even if the next generation are going to be more liberal, this doesn’t mean much for us—it is only faintly comforting to think that the social services will be improved. Indeed, this is likely to happen—care from the cradle to the grave, with legislation constantly being introduced, as it is now in the motoring sphere, to reduce loss of life, regardless of the cost to what liberty there is left.
Laing supplies a very relevant comment to round off the discussion of both home child-rearing and educational techniques. “Children do not give up their innate imagination, curiosity, dreaminess easily. You have to love them to get them to do that. Love is the path through permissiveness to discipline: and through discipline, only too often, to betrayal of self.”
And thus we conclude with the adolescent entering adulthood, his conformist patterns of behaviour reasserting themselves. But what happens if for various reasons the conditioning fails? It may be that the family environment has contradicted the societal, or that pressures within the family have made a conformist reaction impossible and provoked radical and lifelong revolt or escape from reality, as certainly happens in many cases. We call such family environments abnormal—but some at least are too normal to be compatible with societal structure, if most are bizarre to a degree, as Laing has shown present in the genesis of schizophrenia (cf. Divided Self: Sanity, Madness and the Family, Vol. 1), not forgetting of course that it seems feasible that the schizophrenic experience involves a certain amount of truth apart from the projections and dissociations.
THOUGHT REFORM
