This economic collapse is a 'crisis of bigness'
Paul Kingsnorth
Leopold Kohr warned 50 years ago that the gigantist global
system would grow until it imploded. We should have listened
Living through a collapse is a curious experience. Perhaps
the most curious part is that nobody wants to admit it's a collapse. The
results of half a century of debt-fuelled "growth" are becoming
impossible to convincingly deny, but even as economies and certainties crumble,
our appointed leaders bravely hold the line. No one wants to be the first to
say the dam is cracked beyond repair.
To listen to a political leader at this moment in history is
like sitting through a sermon by a priest who has lost his faith but is
desperately trying not to admit it, even to himself. Watch Nick Clegg, David
Cameron or Ed Miliband mouthing tough-guy platitudes to the party faithful.
Listen to Angela Merkel, Nicolas Sarkozy or George Papandreou pretending that
all will be well in the eurozone. Study the expressions on the faces of Barack Obama
or Ben Bernanke talking about "growth" as if it were a heathen god to
be appeased by tipping another cauldron's worth of fictional money into the
mouth of a volcano.
In times like these, people look elsewhere for answers. A
time of crisis is also a time of opening-up, when thinking that was consigned
to the fringes moves to centre stage. When things fall apart, the appetite for
new ways of seeing is palpable, and there are always plenty of people willing
to feed it by coming forward with their pet big ideas.
But here's a thought: what if big ideas are part of the
problem? What if, in fact, the problem is bigness itself?
The crisis currently playing out on the world stage is a
crisis of growth. Not, as we are regularly told, a crisis caused by too little growth,
but by too much of it. Banks grew so big that their collapse would have brought
down the entire global economy. To prevent this, they were bailed out with huge
tranches of public money, which in turn is precipitating social crises on the
streets of western nations. The European Union has grown so big, and so
unaccountable, that it threatens to collapse in on itself. Corporations have
grown so big that they are overwhelming democracies and building a global
plutocracy to serve their own interests. The human economy as a whole has grown
so big that it has been able to change the atmospheric composition of the
planet and precipitate a mass extinction event.
One man who would not have been surprised by this crisis of
bigness, had he lived to see it, was Leopold Kohr. Kohr has a good claim to be
the most important political thinker that you have never heard of. Unlike Marx,
he did not found a global movement or inspire revolutions. Unlike Hayek, he did
not rewrite the economic rules of the modern world. Kohr was a modest,
self-deprecating man, but this was not the reason his ideas have been ignored
by movers and shakers in the half century since they were produced. They have
been ignored because they do not flatter the egos of the power-hungry, be they
revolutionaries or plutocrats. In fact, Kohr's message is a direct challenge to
them. "Wherever something is wrong," he insisted, "something is
too big."
Kohr was born in 1909 in the small Austrian town of
Oberndorf. This smalltown childhood, together with his critical study of
economics and political theory at the LSE, his experience of anarchist city
states during the Spanish civil war, which he covered as a war reporter, and
the fact that he was forced to flee Austria after the Nazi invasion (Kohr was
Jewish), contributed to his growing suspicion of power and its abuses.
Settling in the US, Kohr began to write the book that would
define his thinking. Published in 1957, The Breakdown of Nations laid out what
at the time was a radical case: that small states, small nations and small
economies are more peaceful, more prosperous and more creative than great
powers or superstates. It was a claim that was as unfashionable as it was
possible to make. This was the dawn of the space age – a time of high
confidence in the progressive, gigantist, technology-fuelled destiny of
humankind. Feted political thinkers were talking in all seriousness of creating
a world government as the next step towards uniting humanity. Kohr was
seriously at odds with the prevailing mood. He later commented, dryly, that his
critics "dismissed my ideas by referring to me as a poet".
Kohr's claim was that society's problems were not caused by
particular forms of social or economic organisation, but by their size.
Socialism, anarchism, capitalism, democracy, monarchy – all could work well on
what he called "the human scale": a scale at which people could play
a part in the systems that governed their lives. But once scaled up to the
level of modern states, all systems became oppressors. Changing the system, or
the ideology that it claimed inspiration from, would not prevent that
oppression – as any number of revolutions have shown – because "the
problem is not the thing that is big, but bigness itself".
Drawing from history, Kohr demonstrated that when people
have too much power, under any system or none, they abuse it. The task,
therefore, was to limit the amount of power that any individual, organisation
or government could get its hands on. The solution to the world's problems was
not more unity but more division. The world should be broken up into small
states, roughly equivalent in size and power, which would be able to limit the
growth and thus domination of any one unit. Small states and small economies
were more flexible, more able to weather economic storms, less capable of
waging serious wars, and more accountable to their people. Not only that, but
they were more creative. On a whistlestop tour of medieval and early modern
Europe, The Breakdown of Nations does a brilliant job of persuading the reader
that many of the glories of western culture, from cathedrals to great
To understand the sparky, prophetic power of Kohr's vision,
you need to read The Breakdown of Nations. Some if it will create shivers of
recognition. Bigness, predicted Kohr, could only lead to more bigness, for
"whatever outgrows certain limits begins to suffer from the irrepressible
problem of unmanageable proportions". Beyond those limits it was forced to
accumulate more power in order to manage the power it already had. Growth would
become cancerous and unstoppable, until there was only one possible endpoint:
collapse.
We have now reached the point that Kohr warned about over
half a century ago: the point where "instead of growth serving life, life
must now serve growth, perverting the very purpose of existence". Kohr's
"crisis of bigness" is upon us and, true to form, we are scrabbling
to tackle it with more of the same: closer fiscal unions, tighter global
governance, geoengineering schemes, more economic growth. Big, it seems, is as
beautiful as ever to those who have the unenviable task of keeping the growth
machine going.
This shouldn't surprise us. It didn't surprise Kohr, who,
unlike some of his utopian critics, never confused a desire for radical change
with the likelihood of it actually happening. Instead, his downbeat but
refreshingly honest conclusion was that, like a dying star, the gigantist
global system would in the end fall in on itself, and the whole cycle of growth
would begin all over again. But before it did so, "between the
intellectual ice ages of great-power domination", the world would become
"little and free once more".
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