TEACHING MARCUSE BEVERLY JAMES Abstract Herbert Marcuse's 1964 classic, One-Dimensional Man, was required reading for that generation of scholars who came of age intellectually in the era epitomised by 1968. The most widely read of Marcuse's sixteen major books, One-Dimensional Man led the New York Times to identify Marcuse as "the foremost literary symbol of the New Left." Over the decades, however, with the dumbing down of American higher education and the commodification of learning, Marcuse fell out of favour. This article argues that One-Dimensional Man is highly relevant to the current generation of students and provides them with theoretical concepts for understanding contemporary problems. The trends Marcuse described in the 1960s have accelerated, so that his basic arguments are more relevant than ever for courses in news, advertising, and contemporary culture. Marcuse relies heavily on examples to advance his arguments, and this article demonstrates for his illustrations can easily be brought up to date. Following the author's background notes on Marcuse and basic Marxist concepts, the article identifies five suggestive themes that can be drawn from the text to consider contemporary problems: true versus false needs, lack of class consciousness, alliance between government and business, militarism, and authoritarian language. Beverly James is Professor in the Department of Communication, Horton Social Science Center, University of New Hampshire, Durham; e-mail: bajames@unh.edu. 00 rN ro o o rN ro £ £ 3 a 0 £ * 1 * (R 0 C K Herbert Marcuse's 1964 classic, One-Dimensional Man, was required reading for that generation of scholars who came of age intellectually in the era epitomised by 1968, "the year that rocked the world" (Kurlansky 2004).1 One-Dimensional Man was the most widely known of Marcuse's sixteen major books (see Kellner 1984, 48182), the work that led the New York Times to identify him as "the foremost literary symbol of the New Left" (Hacker 1968, 1). With the dumbing down of American higher education and the commodification of learning, Marcuse fell out of favour. The official Herbert Marcuse website maintained by his grandson, Harold Marcuse, contains links to courses where Marcuse's writings are still assigned.2 Of the sixteen courses where One-Dimensional Man is either required or recommended, five are in departments of philosophy, four are in sociology, and two are in history. The remainder are single courses in anthropology, German studies, law, and communication studies. The one communication course listed, Seminar in Textual Studies, is taught by Ben Attias in the Communication Studies Department at California State University, Northridge. In addition to Marcuse, readings in the seminar include the works of Marx, Freud, Lacan, Foucault, Nietzche, and Gramsci. The course was last offered in 1998. While the Marcuse website's course list is surely not comprehensive, it does give a sense of the marginality of One-Dimensional Man in the careerist climate of American universities today. An informal Google search for other inclusions of One-Dimensional Man in communication syllabi located one other course: Ed McLuskie, professor of communication at Boise State University, assigns One-Dimensional Man in his course on the Frankfurt School. This course was taught as recently as fall 2006. In tracing the trajectory of communication studies in the last several decades, a number of scholars have pointed to the eclipse of politics with the institutionalisation of cultural studies (Bennett 1992; Budd, Entman, and Steinman 1990; Hall 1992; Hardt 1996). This is particularly true in the United States. At the 1990 conference, "Cultural Studies Now and in the Future," held in Champaign-Urbana, Stuart Hall stated, I don't know what to say about American cultural studies. I am completely dumbfounded by it. ... the enormous explosion of cultural studies in the U.S., its rapid professionalization and institutionalization, is not a moment which any of us who tried to set up a marginalized Centre in a university like Birmingham could, in any simple way, regret. And yet I have to say, in Q the strongest sense, that it reminds me of the ways in which, in Britain, we are always aware of institutionalization as a moment of profound danger (1992, 285). ^ Hall's fears were realised as cultural studies became a cottage industry, lucrative for commercial publishing houses as well as universities faced with declining public support. With state funds covering an increasingly smaller proportion of the costs of public higher education, tuition and fees rose from an average of $4,000 a year in 1986-87 to $11,400 in 2004-05.3 At the same time that higher education became an expensive commodity and students became discerning shoppers, the popularity of U S nv/v^/vi IUI V V. WllllllWlll.^ UllV* [JLUU.WII.LJ IL/W.U111V. V*1lJV.VJ.1 111 l^j Ljl HJ^/^/V.1 lJ^ HIV. UlUi 1LJ VI communication as a field of study soared.4 The false dichotomy between culture and political economy that has plagued communication studies for many years plays into the need to attract students. Political economy and the critique of capitalism fall by the wayside as tiresome, dry, and retro in the worst sense of the word. One of Marcuse's central themes in One-Dimensional Man is the transformation C^ of art and culture from spheres of opposition to modes of domination. Once, he ^ writes, "literature and art were essentially alienation, sustaining and protecting the contradiction [between what is and what could be] - the unhappy consciousness of the divided world, the defeated possibilities, the hopes unfulfilled, and the promises betrayed" (1964, 61). Under the conditions of advanced technological society, however, "the intent and function of [classical works of art] have ... fundamentally changed. If they once stood in contradiction to the status quo, this contradiction is now flattened out" (1964, 64). The administrative rationality that transforms art into reality television and news into happy talk threatens to overtake the classroom, one of the few remaining autonomous spheres. While university bean counters weigh tuition increases against financial aid expenditures and pressure instructors to offer courses that will attract the greatest number of students possible, once the door is shut, the classroom remains a place where young people can be encouraged to imagine alternative arrangements and possibilities. In this article, I wish to argue that Marcuse's One-Dimensional Man offers a way to re-insert politics into undergraduate programs in communication in a manner that is not only palatable but satisfying to students. As the senseless war in Iraq rages on, waged by a president chosen by a politicised Supreme Court, and the melting ice sheet over Greenland threatens to raise the oceans by twenty feet, all but the most comatose students realise that their generation faces enormous challenges. Marcuse is among the writers who provide them with a conceptual apparatus for understanding contemporary problems. The trends he described in the 1960s have only accelerated, so that the basic arguments he advances are more relevant than ever, and Marcuse can be fruitfully used in seminars having to do with the analysis of news, advertising, public relations, and other cultural forms that interest contemporary mass communication and journalism majors. My own approach in assigning dense texts to undergraduates who lack much understanding of social theory is to explain that I am asking the class to walk in on a conversation that is in progress. The students are to try to pick up the threads of the competing arguments, whether explicit or implied. While I expect them to read closely and carefully, I tell them to focus on what they do understand and not to fret about what is beyond their grasp. This is good advice in the case of Marcuse. A New York Times Book Review critic (Hacker 1968, 37) describes his style as "heavy and humourless, Teutonic in syntax, and never easy reading. Indeed," he adds, "without a modest understanding of Hegelian philosophy it is impossible to follow half of what he says." Not withstanding the dense prose, Marcuse relies heavily on examples to advance his arguments, and these illustrations can easily be brought up to date. By way of a foundation to reading Marcuse, I do introduce them to the writer himself and to the basic principles that form the basis of the "conversation." In what follows, I provide my own sketchy class background notes on Marcuse and the Marxist concepts necessary to read One-Dimensional Man. Then, I lay out five suggestive themes that my students and I have drawn from that text in order to think about contemporary problems: true versus false needs, lack of class consciousness, alliance between government and business, militarism, and authoritarian language. The secondary literature on Marcuse and the Frankfurt School, an intellectual movement with which he was associated, is enormous. Two helpful introductions are Martin Jay's The Dialectical Imagination and Douglas Kellner's Herbert Marcuse and the Crisis of Marxism. Marcuse lived between 1898 and 1979, so that in many ways his life was coterminous with the twentieth century. Historians are likely to recall that century as one in which utopian hopes for more equitable, humane, and peaceable societies took many forms as reactions against the growth of corporate, and then global capitalism. However, these dreams were repeatedly dashed through genocide and wars, both hot and cold, that usually had an economic basis. Marcuse directly experienced the turmoil of the twentieth century and was caught up in both its nightmares and their resistance. He was born in Berlin into what he described as a typical, upper-middle class Jewish family. He was drafted into the German Army in World War I, and was involved in the socialist revolution against the monarchy toward the end of the war. In a 1971 interview, he described this experience as formative: "My passion came from my personal experience of the betrayal and defeat of the German revolution and the organization of the fascist counterrevolution which eventually brought Hitler to power" (Keen and Raser 1971, 35). Politically and intellectually, Marcuse aligned himself with the early, humanistic writings of Karl Marx. Marx wrote during a time when capitalism was brutally oppressive to the working class. For Marx, history is driven by shifting modes of economic production and the human relations that grow out of that economic form. The economic arrangement in contemporary society, capitalism, is characterised by the division of antagonistic economic classes: a bourgeoisie in control of all the means of production and a working-class proletariat that has only its labour to sell. Marx forecast an end to the exploitation of the proletariat and the implementation of equitable social arrangements. This radical shift to a society in which men and women would enjoy economic as well as political freedom was to be brought about through revolution by the working class. But as we will see in a moment, what is perhaps most important in relating Marx to Marcuse is the prior necessity for revolutionary consciousness, in which workers as a class are aware of their oppression and can mobilize in solidarity to overthrow the existing social order. With the rise of National Socialism and the election of Hitler in 1933, Marcuse's academic path was blocked, and so he left the country and became affiliated with the exiled Frankfurt Institute for Social Research. Better known as the Frankfurt School, this group of intellectuals endorsed Marx's desire for revolutionary social Q change, but was pessimistic about its likelihood under the given conditions. As a result, their main agenda was to offer a radical critique of contemporary society and to keep alive at least the idea of alternatives to the status quo. As socialists and, in many cases, Jews, members of the Frankfurt School had been forced to flee Germany. Together with a number of his colleagues, Marcuse found refuge first in Switzerland and then, as of 1934, in the United States. During World War II, he worked for the 0 forerunner of the C.I.A., and after the war, for the U.S. State Department. Marcuse J began his career as a professor of political philosophy in 1952, teaching briefly at Harvard and Columbia, and then at Brandeis from 1954 to 1965. He then taught at the University of California in San Diego until he retired. Marcuse's name was practically a household word in the decade after the pub-O lication of One-Dimensional Man, an unusual claim for a philosopher. As a rough fN U S indication of his fame, his name appears in 271 articles in the New York Times published between 1964 and 1974.5 Together with figures such as Frantz Fanon, Albert Camus, and Che Guevara, he was recognised, especially by young people, as a hero of the New Left (Abel 1968). The New Left was a political and social movement in the 1960s. While communism never had great traction in the U.S., there were periods in American history when it was relatively strong; one such period was the "Old Left" of the Depression-era 1930s. The term "New Left" was used to distinguish the later movement from the more rigid, orthodox communism of the Old Left. A cluster of historical events gave rise to the New Left in the 1960s: reactions against the Cold War and the burgeoning nuclear menace, impatience over the slow pace of racial integration, and growing unease over American imperialism, especially in Vietnam. In the popular imagination, the 1960s are associated with student unrest, including marches, sit-ins, and riots in protest of the war in Vietnam, civil rights, and the irrelevancy of an education aimed at placing students into a sick society marked by excessive consumerism and militarism. As a professor in the Boston area and then in San Diego, Marcuse was in the thick of the turbulence. Unlike most people of his generation, he enthusiastically endorsed student riots and other forms of civil unrest. He presented a bitter critique of advanced industrial society through his writings and teachings, articulating the anger and disgust felt by a generation of disenchanted young people. In One-Dimensional Man, Marcuse uses Marx as a jumping off point to offer a way of thinking about advanced industrial society and a model for the critique of contemporary culture. Like Marx, his ideas are based on a view of human nature in which men and women are potentially creative, reflective, and capable of directing their own political and economic action. Similarly, society is potentially a sphere in which mankind can exercise these abilities. Ideally, people organise themselves into pluralistic societies that nurture the full and free range of human expressive and productive capacities. But like Marx, Marcuse argues that capitalism has suppressed and distorted authentic human nature. Marcuse goes further: His basic argument in One-Dimensional Man is that men and women are no longer conscious of their own oppression. The main reason has to do with technological progress, with the ability of science and industry to deliver the goods, to satisfy "needs" through the mass production of commodities. As the title of the book suggests, the heart of the problem is one-dimensionality. Marcuse uses this term to describe a historical condition in which individuals have lost their critical abilities and in which opposition to an oppressive status quo is thereby liquidated. The result is the elimination of political and social dissent and a numbing conformity to inhumane ways of living. Kellner (1984, 235) gives us a good definition of the term: One-dimensional is "a concept describing a state of affairs that conforms to existing thought and behaviour in which there is the lack of a critical dimension and the dimension of alternatives and potentialities which transcend the existing society." In other words, one-dimensional man can no longer resist domination. He has lost his revolutionary consciousness, he identifies with the powers that be, and he willingly submits to his own oppression.6 He has lost the ability to transcend the present, to negate it, either in his individual thought and actions or in concert with others through political actions. Marcuse distinguishes between true and false needs, those things that people actually need to live, and those that we have been programmed to believe we need through the mass media, advertising, and other forms of persuasion. He defines false needs as those which are superimposed upon the individual by particular social interests in his repression: the needs which perpetuate toil, aggressiveness, misery, and injustice. ... Most of the prevailing needs to relax, to have fun, to behave and consume in accordance with the advertisements, to love and hate what others love and hate, belong to this category of false needs (Marcuse 1964, 5). In other words, commercial media and other social forces not only shape our beliefs, hopes and dreams, but our "needs" as well. Having convinced us that we are in some way deficient, the media then offer ways to fulfil us, usually through the consumption of commodities and services. The creation of false needs is central to the integration of one-dimensional man into the social order. Through advertising, through a sea of mass-produced images of affluence, he is harnessed to a wasteful, materialistic culture through promises of a share in its riches. In this way, consumer goods became a main form of social control over the course of the twentieth century. Marcuse writes (1964, 9), "The people recognize themselves in their commodities; they find their soul in their automobile, hi-fi set, split-level home, kitchen equipment." What surprises students is how little the broad categories of commodities have changed in the last fifty years. Specify BMW for generic automobile and Viking stainless steel appliances for kitchen equipment; substitute iPod for hi-fi set and McMansion for split level home, and you have today's dream list. Through reading Marcuse, students recognise that such devices, and the overwhelming desire to own and display them, are repressive in the sense that they bind men and women to a corporate work environment that now demands their souls. One-dimensional man is forced to work long hours to pay for the excesses that have become "necessary," and he must conform in all respects to the corporate culture from which he draws his paycheck. Freedom to live otherwise - to explore less lucrative but more satisfying job possibilities in the public or non-profit sector, to take time £ off to travel, learn a new language, read art history - is severely restricted. The BMW and the Viking range, in other words, are also repressive in the sense that they restrict people to their role as consumers, limiting their ability to explore and nurture other aspects of their identity - environmental activist, musician, citizen, and father. Even such activities as volunteering to work on community projects have become a public relations ploy, as corporations give their employees "time off" to participate in organised, feel-good "community service days" that further jg strengthen their corporate loyalty. In thinking about their own entry into the full-time work force after getting their degrees, students insist on the importance of achieving a balance between work and leisure that will allow them to satisfy their more authentic needs, which they > define as spending time with their families, relaxing, engaging in sports, attending to their fitness and health, pursuing hobbies, and expanding their horizons through activities such reading or travel. However, they recognise that they face a harsher reality. A Harris Poll revealed that the number of hours worked per week in the United States rose from about 40 to about 50 from 1973 to 1997. This 25 0 £ percent increase in working hours, together with technological developments, led to dramatic growth in productivity, but that has not translated into an increased fO standard of living for employees. Instead, as Stephen Roach (1998) observes, we ^ have witnessed "a dramatic shift in the work-leisure trade-off that puts increasing stress on family and personal priorities." Not only are people working longer hours, but real wages are at best stagnant. Meanwhile, the inequity in income distribution is wider than ever before. In an efficiently administered one-dimensional society, the conflicts, contradictions, and oppositions that Marx predicted would give rise to revolutionary change have been ironed out so that competing interests have been assimilated and potentially disruptive elements have been neutralized. This false harmony is evident in a number of spheres: the cultural assimilation of blue- and white-collar workers, the merging interests of labour and management, political bipartisanship, and the mediated opening of private spheres of existence to public voyeurism.7 But perhaps most visible is the consolidation of the government and business. Marcuse (1964, 19) writes, "The main trends are familiar: concentration of the national economy on the needs of the big corporations, with the government as a stimulating, supporting, and sometimes even controlling force." Countless examples of this alliance are available for classroom discussion. The transportation sector, in particular, illustrates the selective nature of governmental subsidies to large corporations. In 1979, Chrysler, the weakest of the Big Three American automobile manufacturers, was losing $6 to $8 million a day, partly because of the Arab oil embargo of the mid-1970s and Detroit's insistence on turning out oversized vehicles. In an arrangement that united not only the government and Chrysler but the upper echelons of the United Auto Workers as well, Congress came through in the form of a $1.5 billion loan that was contingent on $500 million in wage and benefits concessions by labour and $125 million by management (Miller 1979). Similarly, the airline industry has repeatedly benefited from the government's largesse. After the attack on the World Trade Center in September 2001, Congress awarded the airlines $5 billion in cash to cover their immediate problems and established the Air Transportation Stabilization Board to administer a $10 billion loan program. According to a group that monitors the federal budget, the industry got more than triple what the four-day shutdown of air traffic actually cost them, and responded by firing 70,000 employees and drastically reducing service (Taxpayers 2002). The government's position vis-à-vis passenger rail travel is another matter altogether. While highways - by far the most expensive transportation network in the United States - are almost entirely supported by taxpayers, Congress repeatedly insists that travellers should pay the full costs of rail service. Amtrak has been chronically underfunded ever since its establishment in 1971, as the government has tried to pressure the organisation to "wean" itself from public support. In 2005, President George Bush proposed eliminating Amtrak's $1.2 billion subsidy and letting the railway go bankrupt.8 Upon leaving office in 1961, President Dwight D. Eisenhower warned the nation of the "the conjunction of an immense military establishment and a large arms industry." He identified the military-industrial alliance as something "new in the American experience" (Eisenhower 1961). Yet just three years later, Marcuse (1964, 32) pointed to the permanent defence economy as a central factor in the enslavement of one-dimensional man, as military and industrial experts hide behind a "technological veil," making decisions about life and death, personal and national security, over which the ordinary public has no control. Quoting Stewart Meacham, he writes, "As the productive establishments rely on the military for self-preservation and growth, so the military relies on the corporations 'not only for their weapons, but also for knowledge of what kind of weapons they need, how much they will cost, and how long it will take to get them' " (Marcuse 1964, 33-34). The link between Halliburton and the Bush administration through its former head, Vice President Dick Cheney, is an example familiar to students of the partnership between government and business. When they are provided with some of the details, they are able to see the magnitude of the problem. A House Minority Report on government contracting under the Bush administration reveals that Halliburton has been the fastest-growing federal contractor during the Bush years: "In 2000, Halliburton was the 28 th largest contractor, receiving $763 million in federal dollars. By 2005, the company had leaped to the sixth largest federal contractor, receiving nearly $6 billion.9 This is an increase of 672% over the five year period" (United States House of Representatives 2006, 6). But Halliburton is just representative of the larger problem. That same report shows that under the Bush administration, government contracts with private companies have soared. Between 2000 and 2005, such spending rose 86 percent, to reach $377.5 billion annually. Most of the contracts have gone to support Bush's three main initiatives, homeland security, the war and rebuilding in Iraq, and Hurricane Katrina recovery. In all three areas, federal spending has been marked by waste, fraud, mismanagement, and abuse. The report identified 118 contracts costing taxpayers $745.5 billion that have involved such problems as overcharges, lack of competition, vague contract requirements, and corruption (United States House of Representatives 2006, Appendix A). Marcuse saw the tension created by the Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union as a further source of unification, a powerful tool for controlling and containing any form of dissent. In the West, "class struggles are attenuated and 'imperialist contradictions' suspended before the threat from without. Mobilized against this threat, capitalist society shows an internal union and cohesion unknown at previous stages of industrial civilization" (1964, 21). Additionally, a permanently mobilized economy meant sustained growth, high employment, and high standards of living. Nuclear arsenals and constantly airborne, fully armed Q B-52s were justified by the concept of deterrence at the time Marcuse was writing, with U.S. foreign policy characterised by George Kennan's policy of containment. The break up of the Soviet Union in 1991 left the United States with the dubious status of the world's only Super Power. Like a Super Hero that has just destroyed the last source of kryptonite, the United States entered into a qualitatively different and much more dangerous phase of militarism with the invasion of Iraq in 0 spring 2003. Executed in the name of disarming a rogue, trigger-happy country of g "WMDs" - weapons of mass destruction - the attack was based on the doctrine of pre-emption. Engineered by Bush's Deputy Secretary of Defence Paul Wolfowitz and policy advisor Richard Perle, pre-emption is grounded in the belief that the U.S. is justified in taking unilateral military action against any nation that poses a ^ perceived threat to national security. fN U S Marcuse observed that our imagination of peace is limited by our massive, economically-motivated organisation for war. Following his lead, students have LO noted that the "peace dividend" that accrued to the political changes in the Soviet ^ bloc in the late 1980s and early 1990s was short-lived. The replacement of deterrence with pre-emption, a doctrine that asks the citizenry to trust a small cadre of policymakers to determine if and when a threat is sufficiently grave to warrant a first strike, is a further consolidation of the power of technical "solutions." A much saner way of working toward a stable, prosperous, and peaceful world, students have suggested, would be to redirect the "defence" budget toward aid programs along the lines of the Marshall Program. The communist threat, then, has been replaced by an even more nebulous Enemy, "terrorism," where there is no longer much distinction between external and internal Enemies. Marcuse (1964, 52) argued that for the powers that be, the real enemy was neither Soviet communism nor Western capitalism, but the possibility of real liberation. Now, the insanity of making "rational" calculations about how many millions of people will be annihilated in a nuclear war with the Soviet Union has given way to a society in which no pretence of democracy remains, in which the line separating citizen and foreign enemy has disappeared. The suppression of individual rights to liberty and privacy is embraced in the name of security, as witnessed by the renewal of the Patriot Act in 2006 and by the illegal wire taps that the Bush administration began conducting in 2002. Ignoring restrictions mandated by the Foreign Intelligence Surveillance Act, Bush repeatedly authorised the National Security Agency to secretly monitor the international phone calls and e-mails of hundreds and perhaps thousands of U.S. citizens, legal immigrants, and foreign tourists without obtaining a warrant. In a stunning lack of understanding of democracy, when the New York Times broke the story of the wire taps on December 16, 2005, Bush responding by attacking the press, claiming the actions of the media in publishing the information were illegal. But regardless of the fact that the story was heavily reported, almost half of adults surveyed in a recent poll stated that they were unfamiliar with the National Security Agency's monitoring program. This ignorance about current events and their constitutional implications is clearly part of the reason why over two-thirds of the public believe Bush is justified in authorising wire taps without first getting a warrant, thus signalling their willingness to concede to the suppression of their own freedom ("Majority of U.S. Adults" 2006). Public acceptance of the administration's actions is also tied to nativistic, anti-immigration sentiments, where not only the taxi cab driver, but the convenience store clerk or the political volunteers are apt to be "aliens."10 Following the work of Peter Berger and Thomas Luckmann (1966), communication students today are often taught to conceive of language as a means by which reality is socially constructed. Without adequate attention to the material conditions under which reality is fashioned and history is made, this is an essentially conservative approach to the understanding of the generative power of language. Marcuse's observations about language are extensions of his social critique and offer useful correctives to an abstract, idealist approach. He argues that the language of "the defence laboratories and the executive offices, the governments and the machines, the time-keepers and manager, the efficiency experts and the political beauty parlours ... orders and organizes, ... induces people to do, to buy, and to accept" (1964, 86). In an authoritarian setting, language itself is authoritarian, directing our thoughts and limiting our imaginations rather than serving as a means of autonomous expression and the exploration of alternative realities. "In the prevailing modes of speech," Marcuse writes (1964, 85), "the tension between appearance and reality, fact and factor, substance and attribute tend to disappear. The elements of autonomy, discovery, demonstration, and critique recede before designation, assertion, and imitation." One-dimensional language, in other words, extinguishes conceptual, critical thought, which depends upon sensitivity to nuance, ambiguity, and contradiction. Furthermore, Marcuse argues, authoritarian language is "radically anti-historical" in that it reduces a phenomenon to its present manifestation, and in so doing, it cuts off other possibilities. He writes, "Remembrance of the past may give rise to dangerous insights ... Remembrance is a mode of dissociation from the given facts, a mode of 'mediation' which breaks, for short moments, the omnipresent power of the given facts" (1964, 98). Similarly, the ability to imagine a future that breaks with the present is dangerously subversive to the established society. The suppression of critical, historical consciousness and the constriction of meaning are carried out through a variety of methods (1964, 87-94): the reduction of words to clichés, Or-wellian inversions of meaning (rigged elections called "free," despotic governments called "democratic"), the unification of contradictory terms (clean bomb, luxury fall-out shelter), the hypnotic coupling of specific adjectives and nouns (unwanted fat, strong defence), and hyphenized abridgement (nuclear-powered submarine). It is not difficult for students to locate contemporary examples of language that is intended to channel or restrict understanding. In political discourse, old people and poor people are "special interest groups." Conservative Christian abhorrence of divorce, single-parenthood, and homosexuality translates into "family values." In the nuclear power industry, an explosion is an "energetic disassembly," a fire is "rapid oxidation," and a reactor accident is an "event." When the State Department deals with human rights in other countries, killing is "unlawful or arbitrary deprivation of life." The CIA doesn't assassinate people, it "neutralizes" them. However, year in and year out, the Pentagon is the chief offender, with such terms as "peacekeeper missiles," "collateral damage," and "pre-emptive strikes." In the 1970s, the neutron bomb was defined as "an efficient nuclear weapon that eliminates an enemy with a minimum degree of damage to friendly territory." During Q the Persian Gulf War, "weapons systems" (jet fighters) "took out" "hard" and "soft targets" - vaporized buildings and human beings. Under Secretary of Defence Donald Rumsfeld, "body bags" became "transfer tubes," and the torture at Abu Ghraib "the excesses of human nature that humanity suffers."11 Students anticipate landing a well-paying job after graduation, but fear that the price will be too high to bear - limited time to live their lives in satisfying, self-Q fulfilling way, and relentless pressure to fit into a corporate culture at odds with J the critical values they have developed as students. While Marcuse's assessment of one-dimensional society provides them with a challenging vision of the forces that restrict their horizons, he is not altogether pessimistic. In the final section of One-Dimensional Man, "The Chance of the Alternatives," he argues that other historical (^O arrangements are possible, in that they are the result of "determinate choice, seizure fN U S of one among other ways of comprehending, organizing, and transforming reality" (1964, 219). A rationality that involves the free development of human needs and r^ the pacification of existence serves as a criterion for exercising such choices. Having ^ developed into young adults "who comprehend the given necessity as insufferable pain, and as unnecessary" (1964, 222), students of Marcuse are prepared to pursue real human freedom, to imagine a world in which the Pentagon, rather than schools, is forced to hold bake sales. Notes: 1. That year, students and workers around the globe - in Mexico City, Czechoslovakia, Paris, Berlin - clashed with police in response to authoritarian power structures and their militaristic policies. In the U.S., Robert Kennedy and Martin Luther King were assassinated, demonstrations at the Democratic National Convention in Chicago were met with violence, and the anti-war movement gained tremendous momentum when the Johnson administration launched the Tet Offensive in Vietnam. 2. Harold Marcuse is a professor of Modern German History at the University of California, Santa Barbara. 3. These figures include the costs of room and board. The corresponding figures at private universities are $10,000 in 1986-87 and $26,500 in 2004-05 (National Center for Education Statistics n.d.). 4. In 1970-71, 10,000 B.A. degrees were awarded in communication and journalism. By 2003-04, the figure had risen to 71,000. As a point of comparison, math majors declined from 24,000 to 13,000 over the same period of time (National Center for Education Statistics n.d.). 5. This figure is based on a word search through ProQuest Historical Newspapers' database. 6. I will use the pronoun "he" in a gender-neutral sense throughout this paper when the antecedent is "one-dimensional man." 7. Regarding the disappearance of class distinctions, the New York Times recently ran a seven-part series called "Class Matters," which puts the lie to upward mobility and classlessness in U.S. society. The following articles, together with some side bars and commentary, make up the series: Janny Scott and David Leonhardt, "Class in America: Shadowy Lines That Still Divide," May 15, 2005, sec. 1, p. 1; Janny Scott, "Life at the Top in America Isn't Just Better, It's Longer," May 16, 2005, sec. A, p. 1; Tamar Lewin, "A Marriage of Unequals," May 19, 2005, sec. A, p. 1; Laurie Goodstein and David D. Kirkpatrick, "On a Christian Mission to the Top," May 22, 2005, sec. 1, p. 1; David Leonhardt, "The College Dropout Boom," May 24, 2005, sec. A, p. 1; Anthony DePalma, "15 Years on the Bottom Rung," May 26, 2005, sec. A, p. 1; and Jennifer Steinhauer, "When the Joneses Wear Jeans," May 29, 2005, sec. 1, p. 1. Regarding the merging interests of labour and management, the latter has been stunningly successful in convincing the American work force that unions are no longer in their best interest. A 2005 Harris Poll found that even though the public credits unions with improving workers' wages and working conditions, about two-thirds of all adults judge labour unions negatively (Negative Attitudes 2005). 8. The automobile and airline bail-outs pale in comparison to the costs of the savings and loan crisis of the 1980s and early 1990s. As of the end of 1999, fraud, mismanagement, and poor policies had cost taxpayers $124 billion, according to the Federal Deposit Insurance Corporation (Curry and Shibut 2000, 33). While the S&L crisis bears mentioning in class, the transportation industry is a more concrete and interesting example for students. 9. The top contractor, Lockheed Martin, received $25 billion of federal money in 2005, a figure that exceeds the gross domestic product of 103 nations. The other leading recipients are Boeing, Northrop, Grumman, Raytheon, and General Dynamics. 10. Recent manifestations of this attitude include Senator Joseph Biden's remark that "You cannot go to a 7-Eleven or a Dunkin' Donuts unless you have a slight Indian accent," and Senator George Allen's racial slur at a campaign rally. Referring to S. R. Sidarth, a Virginia-born 20-year-old of Indian heritage and volunteer for the opposition, Allen stated, "Let's give a welcome to Macada here. Welcome to America and the real world of Virginia" (Leibovich 2006). Apart from the implication that Sidarth is not American, the term "macada" refers to a genus of monkeys. 11. Some of these examples are drawn from the annual Doublespeak Award of the National Council ofTeachers of English. See "NCTE Doublespeak Award" at www.ncte.org/about/awards/ council/jrnl/106868.htm?source=gs for a list of recipients. References: Abel, Lionel. 1968. Seven Heroes of the New Left. New York Times, May 5, Sunday Magazine section, 30-31, 128-33, 135. ProQuest Historical Newspapers. Bennett, Tony. 1992. Putting Policy into Cultural Studies. In L. Grossberg, C. Nelson, and P. Treichler (eds.), Cultural Studies, 23-37. New York: Routledge. Berger, Peter L. and Thomas Luckmann. 1966. The Social Construction of Reality: A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge. Garden City, NY: Doubleday. Budd, Mike, Robert M. Entman, and Clay Steinman. 1990. The Affirmative Character of U.S. Cultural Studies. Critical Studies in Mass Communication 7, 169-84. Curry, Timothy and Lynn Shibut. 2000. The Cost of the Savings and Loan Crisis: Truth and Consequences. FDIC Banking Review 13, 2, 26-35. Eisenhower, Dwight D. 1961. Military-Industrial Complex Speech. Eisenhower Papers, Avalon Project, Yale Law School. Hacker, Andrew. 1968. Philosophy of the New Left. New York Times, March 10, Book Review section, 1, 33-35, 37. ProQuest Historical Newspapers. Hall, Stuart. 1992. Cultural Studies and its Theoretical Legacies. In L. Grossberg, C. Nelson, and P. Treichler (eds.), Cultural Studies, 277-94. New York: Routledge. Hardt, Hanno.1996. British Cultural Studies and the Return of the "Critical" in American Mass Communications Research: Accommodation or Radical Change? In D. Morley and Kuan-Hsing Chen (eds.), Stuart Hall: Critical Dialogues in Cultural Studies, 102-111. London: Routledge. Keen, Sam and John Raser. 1971. A Conversation with Herbert Marcuse. Psychology Today, February, 35-40, 60-66. Kellner, Douglas. 1984. Herbert Marcuse and the Crisis of Marxism. Berkeley: University of California Press. Kurlansky, Mark. 2004. 1968: The Year that Rocked the World. New York: Ballantine. Leibovich, Mark. 2006. Voters Hearing Countless Ways of Saying "Sorry." New York Times, A1, 13. Majority of U.S. Adults Feel President is Justified in Authorizing Wiretaps Without Court Approval to Monitor Suspected Terrorists. 2006. Harris Poll #18, February 23. Marcuse, Herbert. 1964. One-Dimensional Man: Studies in the Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society. Boston: Beacon. £ Miller, Judith. 1979. Congress Approves a Compromise Plan on Aid to Chrysler. New York Times, December 21, A1. ProQuest Historical Newspapers. ^ National Center for Education Statistics. n.d. U.S. Department of Education. www.nces.ed.gov Negative Attitudes to Labor Unions Show Little Change in Past Decade, According to New «Harris Poll. 2005. Harris Poll #68, August 31.< www.harrisinteractive.com/harris_poll/index. asp?PID=598> Roach, Stephen S. 1998. Is Information Technology Creating a Productivity Boom? Issues in Science J and Technology, Summer. Taxpayers for Common Sense. 2002. Airlines. June 7. «United States House of Representatives Committee on Government Reform - Minority Staff Special Investigations Division. 2006. Dollars, Not Sense: Government Contracting Under the Bush Administration. Prepared for Rep. Henry A. Waxman, June. ISKANJE ZDRAVE DRUŽBE: PRISPEVEK ERICHA FROMMA K TEORIJI DRUŽBE BONNIE BRENNEN Več kot 50 let po prvi objavi je Frommova knjiga Zdrava družba še vedno pomembno in presenetljivo sodobno delo, posebej relevantno za raziskovalce na področju teorije družbe in medijskih študij. Frommov glavni poudarek je na ocenjevanju duševnega zdravja zahodnih družb, ki državljanom pogosto odrekajo temeljne človeške potrebe po produktivnem delovanju, samoudejanitvi, svobodi in ljubezni. Meni, da duševnega zdravja ni mogoče ocenjevati abstraktno, ampak z vidika specifičnih ekonomskih, socialnih in političnih dejavnikov v dani družbi ter njihovega prispevka k duševni zmedenosti ali stabilnosti. Zdrava družba predstavlja radikalno kritiko demokratičnega kapitalizma, ko razkriva korenine odtujitve in razkriva poti za transformacijo sodobnih družb v smeri spodbujanja produktivnega delovanja državljanov. Fromm si zamišlja preoblikovanje demokratičnih kapitalističnih družb na temelju komunitar-nega socializma, ki poudarja organizacijo dela in družbenih odnosov med državljani namesto lastninske pravice. COBISS 1.02 STUDIRATI MARCUSEJA BEVERLY JAMES Marcusejevo klasično delo Enodimenzionalni človek (1964) je bila obvezna literatura generacije študentov, ki jih je intelektualno zaznamovalo leto 1968. Zaradi nejgovega najbolj branega dela je New York Times označil Marcuseja za "najodličnejši literarni simbol nove levice". V kasnejših desetletjih sta zaton ameriškega univerzitetnega študija in poblagovljenje izobraževanja Marcusejevo priljubljenost močno zmanjšala. Članek ugotavlja, da je Enodimenzionalni človek zelo relevanten za sodobno geenracijo študentov, ker daje teoretske pojme pomembne za razumevanje sodobnih problemov. Trendi, ki jih je Marcuse opisoval v šestdesetih letih, so se pospešeno nadaljevali, tako da so njegovi ključni argumenti bolj relevantni kot kdajkoli, ko gre za študij novinarstva, oglaševanja in kulture. Marcuse navaja številne primere v prid svojim argumentom in članek kaže, da je njegove ilustracije zlahka mogoče posodobiti. Članek predlaga pet osnovnih tem, ki so posebej relevatne za sodobne razmere: prave in neprave potrebe, odsotnost razredne zavesti, zavezništvo politične oblasti in kapitala, militarizem ter avtoritarni jezik. ^^ O LO COBISS 1.02 I- LU N