Nordic Ideology

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by Hanzi Freinacht


  Such a syst­em of thought must be inherently logical, like the tripartite division of pow­­ers—or else it can hardly be sustainable as a new equil­i­brium. What you need to do is to learn to see this attractor, how it is inhe­r­ently logical, how and why it gets its competitive edge. This attra­ctor is the lodestone of the navi­gator, allowing us to blaze new paths for soc­iety, because we can see—not quite where we are going—but which dir­ections do exist: where is north and where is Mecca?

  If we can see the directionality of how our societies evolve, and where we are on this map, the point isn’t necessarily that we should always go “for­ward”. The point is rather that we should navigate more pro­fi­ciently, adju­sting to every wind and current, because we know our posit­ion and our direction. This can include waiting for the right mom­ent and taking some strategic retreats. But instead of “north” and “Mecca”, we are deal­ing with another dimension by which we can navigate: the stages of dev­elopment; each stage being an attractor for society to stab­ilize arou­nd.

  Understanding where you are in a sequence of attractors doesn’t nec­ess­­arily mean you can go to the next stage, or indeed, that you should always try to do so. But it means you can tilt the likelihood of going in a direction that is more sustainable and is likely to have positive effects in the lives of people.

  Imagine you have two governments in similar coun­tries: one sees the attractor points ahead and the other doesn’t. As they each make a thou­sand policy and implementation decisions for their administrations over a per­iod of time, the “attractor-aware” government will gain an advantage over the “attractor-blind” one. The difference might not be vis­ible from the outside unless you study their many policies in great detail. In practi­cal reality, how­ever, one country is likely to thrive while the other is not. As the differences stack up over the years, one society will be happier, healthier, more res­ilient and gain a more central position in the global system—economically and culturally.

  The people who recognize the attractors of course don’t have all the answers to the questions of life and society; they just have an extra hint on how to navigate in each unique situation that surfaces. So that’s how you use this text: You learn the attractors, and then you navigate to affect any number of situations in which you play a part. Because you can see thro­ugh the goggles of political metamodern­ism, you can implant a little of the meta­modern DNA here and there: in a political debate, in a media prod­uc­tion, in your company’s values and cul­ture, in the way you pose your re­search questions in social science—or just by hinting at some­thing in an art project.

  It’s like spreading a virus (if you will allow me a switch of metaphors), except this one improves society instead of making it sick. Hence the pol­itical meth­od is—again—of a more non-linear kind than the political rev­olutions that grew from the Enlight­­en­ment. These revolutions required con­stit­ut­ional reform, and to achieve that, you had to scrap the old soci­ety, l’ancien régi­me , which was only possible by topp­ling the sovereign or at least ending the mon­­archic form of governance (or the colonial one, if you are the often-overlooked Haitian revolution).

  The “virus strategy” proposed here works differ­ently. We are not really targ­eting the constitution and designing “a system” you can “esta­b­lish” by promulgating certain laws. We are talking about culti­va­ting new pro­cesses that target culture itself and the devel­op­mental psych­ology of every­one; about creating a more existentially apt and emo­tion­ally sen­sitive civi­lization—a listening society. And we are exploring why con­tem­porary society is driving us in this dir­ection, and why the ones who fail to recog­nize this, and to act accord­ingly, will be severely pun­ished and out­compe­ted in the many games of life.

  Or actually, this virus can be harmful if it turns out we’re wrong about the attractors; if we make the wrong assumptions. There is nothing more beneficial than a good theory. Correspondingly, there is nothing more dan­gerous than a bad one. Getting it right is just as important as not gett­ing it wrong. The wrong theory can and will land us in a sea of troubles.

  Marxism comes to mind. Of course, Mar­x­ism has been an incred­ibly productive intellectual field for the last century and a half, but Marx’s att­empt to identify the attractors of hist­orical development was simply not satisfactory. Society did not follow the fundamental dynamics he propo­sed, nor did it develop through the stages he and his followers ima­gined. The mistakes of this theory killed about a hundred million people dur­ing the 20th century—however indirectly.

  And of cour­se, all things are both good and bad. If communism has left us with no sub­stan­tial positive legacy in terms of socialist societies or hist­orical devel­opments, it still pla­y­ed a major and positive role in many peo­ple’s lives, and it has taught our global consci­ousness some hard-earn­ed lessons about political and econ­omic develop­ment.

  Then again, it’s not like there is a default “no-theory” place from which we can develop society; we are always within the framework of a theory of some kind. So just “not being a Marxist” is hardly a mark of intelligence and critical thinking. We have to make ass­u­m­ptions, explicit or otherwise. (More on Marxism and communism in Appendix A.)

  False assumptions mass murder people (like climate change de­nial) and correct ones save millions (like correct preemptive action agai­nst cli­m­ate change). Montesquieu was succ­essful in iden­tifying the tri­part­ite di­v­i­­sion of powers. If Marxism ended up killing people, how many lives has Montesquieu’s theory saved —if we under­stand the question in an indi­rect, non-linear sense? How about liberal democra­cy, human rights, mar­ket economy, free enterprise, the welfare state; how many lives have these saved, how many have they im­proved? What would have happened if these ideas had not taken hold? What about feminism and environmen­talism? What about animal rights? You do the math.

  Set the Lodestone Right

  I hold that our current society is based on a number of false assum­p­tions; a number of sacred cows must be brought to the slaughter house and shown little mercy (said by a vegan, mind you). I hold that these false ass­um­ptions can and will kill or otherwise harm millions—in indirect, non-linear ways—because they do not match the new dynamics of a glo­bal, digitized, postindustrial soc­iety. The chief such false assumption is that we can and should continue the current social-liberal “business as usual” pol­itics within the framework of left-right party pol­itics.

  The failure to spread more accurate ideas about society can cause, or fail to prevent, un­ima­­ginable quantities of suffering. So we must put for­ward the best ideas and try to spread them—to the right people, at the right moments, from the right angles.

  But how can we make sure this is Montesquieu and not another Marx? A common reflex, championed perhaps most clearly by the “fa­ther of lib­ertarianism” Friedrich von Hayek, is to denounce all greater plans and plots for society. In this regard libertarianism and conservatism tend to agree: Top-down social engineering and utopian ideas enforced upon society according to the blueprints conceived of by our limited minds can hardly do justice to the complexity of society. Edmund Burke, “the father of modern conservatism”, underscored in his dismissal of the French Rev­olution that customs and mores are based upon a long-tried and arduou­sly evolved sum of human experience, whereas intellectual ideas can hard­ly take into account all the subtle contexts of these collec­tive wisdoms. Radicalism tends to build fortresses in the skies that collap­se and backfire when imposed upon the com­plex­ities of real life.

  This is also largely the line of argument in Hayek’s 1943 book The Road to Serfdom , in which he bas­ically tells us that the road to hell is paved with good intentions of social and political reformers and revolutionaries. The tendency of humans to think we can understand the complexity of our own societies and “plan them” has led to huge mistakes, the commu­nist experiments being only the clearest example. Instead
, society should self-organize through the interactions of many independent play­ers who en­gage on a free, unob­stru­c­ted marketplace (as well as in other arenas).

  In some ways, this is an appealing idea. It lets us off the hook, intellect­ually speaking, when it com­es to ima­gining future society, and lets each of us focus on whatever we can do ourselves, as agents on the mar­ket and in the civil sphere. It is a humbler stance, its ad­her­ents argue, because it’s difficult to know what is good even for oneself—let alone all other people, or society as a whole!

  But it is, ultimately, a lazy stance and it quickly leads to dead ends. It begs the question about the libertarian stance itself: If humans cannot under­­stand the complexity of society, or if you are too “intellec­tually hum­ble” to try, how come you can still diagnose which thoughts about society lead to oppression and which ones lead to freedom? Such humility quickly reveals itself as hollow. How come you are allowed to argue that the market is the most free and rational form of self-organ­iza­tion? How come you are all­owed to determine that individuals are more real and important than coll­ectives, that a minimal “night watchman” state is best, or that corpo­rate structures are less opp­ressive than political ones? Or that “freedom” should be defined in this particular manner?

  This “libertarian reflex” also avoids answering another question: What about all the social engineering and utopianism that did work? What about Montesquieu’s tripartite division of powers; would we have been better off without it if it had never guided the formulations of the constit­u­tions of coun­tries? And how come some of the most successful countries in the world, by most measures the Nordic ones, have also been subject to ex­ten­sive social engineering and the perhaps most thorough penetration of the state into the everyday lives of the citizens?

  Scandinavian liber­tarians and conservatives like to point out that Swe­den was in fact a very liberal economy up until the 1970s, and that its main spur of econ­omic growth occurred in the period preceding the social demo­cratic expansion. [13] While this point is correct, it does not take into account that Sweden’s population became the most progressive in the world during the Social Democratic period and that other measures of human devel­opment did very well. It appears as though good societies can be built by a dyna­mic balance between free markets and democratically gov­erned bur­eau­cracies.

  The libertarian reflexes warn us of important risks, but as a general dis­missal of social engineering they don’t compute. They offer no defense aga­inst the Nordic ideology, which seeks to create a deeper and more psy­ch­ological form of welfare. Lene Andersen and Tomas Björk­­man show in their book, The Nordic Secret , how Scandinavian reformers explicitly sought to support widespread psycho­logical development in the popula­tion.

  There is only one proper reply to all of this: studying major societal attractors is a good thing when your analysis is correct, and it’s a bad thing when you’re wrong. Once in a blue moon, a good analysis can grow from a bad one and vice versa , but there it is.

  So the question is not: “Is it okay to try to see how society overall dev­elops and to try to act accordingly?” Yes, it’s okay. We just need to make damn sure we set our lodestone right before we sail the seas of history, lest we be left paddling in the cold.

  Navigators of History

  Back in the days, until the 18th century, European ships had to navigate the seas with latitude but no longitude. You wouldn’t know how far east or west you were. There simply were no clocks avail­able that could keep the time on board a ship as it kept waving back and forth. That Britannia so easily ruled the waves in the 19th century had a lot to do with the British inventing a “marine chron­ometer” before anyone else. In 1714, the British parl­iament offered a huge prize sum to who­ever could solve the problem of longitude. This led to any number of experi­ments, including the stab­bing of rabbits, in the faint hope that on­­board rabbits would suffer some meas­urable con­sequences of their siblings on land being tormented at a set point in time. But no luck. Dec­ades went by.

  In 1773—more than fifty years later—the carpenter and self-taught clock­maker John Harris finally collect­ed the prize, after a lifetime of incre­men­tal improvements to his inven­tion: an advanced mechanical clock which in­cluded a contraption that countered the rocking of the boat. The prize was £20,000, about 3.5 million US dollars in today’s curr­ency (which was, by the way, more than a thousand times the average year­ly income at the time. Ka-ching.)

  The marine clock was expensive, so they couldn’t make too many. Still, the British fleet could now navigate the world in a manner unpara­lleled by all other powers. And it saved quite a few sailors from scurvy and other maritime miseries as well. The British government saw an attractor point—the measurement of longitude—and with its help the British navy could eventually nav­igate the world with much greater ease. The competitive advantages were immense. The same holds, I believe, for the map I wish to pre­sent you with: the Nordic ideology.

  It would be foolish to claim that the Nordic ideology as proposed in these pages is free of error or makes up a complete blueprint for how to re­new society. You, the reader, need to help out by crit­ically eval­uating this theo­­ry as we go along—it might need tweaks, serious revis­ion, or down­right reject­ion. [14]

  In this book, you need to evaluate which parts of my theory should be kept or scr­app­­ed. But, again, to do that you need to success­fully under­stand the theo­ry first. You can only be a navigator of history to the extent that historical cir­cum­stances place you in a position to think and act. You are always part of a greater, self-organ­izing system of society. The study of self-organ­izing systems has been called many things—and it stretches across many scien­ces. One of its early names, the one used at the influen­tial Macy Con­ferences back in the 1950s, was cyber­netics ; the word’s root comes from Greek for “nav­igator”. You navigate history, just as history navigates you. This makes you a part of the self-organization of global society. This book helps you to become a part of the self-org­an­ization of the “metamod­ern” layer of societal devel­op­­ment.

  On a last note on historical attractors, I’d like to underscore that these exist in the logical structure of things, much like mathematical theorems. They are “out there”, available to be discovered and made visible—per­haps not as “natural laws”, but certainly as discernable dynamics under certain given circumstances. Attractors aren’t “inscribed into a pregiven universe”, but they can still guide us, just as any other discovery.

  Once discovered, mathematical truths can be put to use as we navigate the world. For inst­ance, the Indian mathema­tician prodigy Srini­vasa Rama­nujan who went to Cambridge in the 1910s, left beh­ind a note­book with some ideas he never published. These proofs were jotted down in his idio­syn­cratic and intuitive manner, self-taught as he was. The notes were redis­cov­ered in the 1960s, and they were still original at that time. These ideas have since been used in research about black holes. The logical structure was there to be uncovered all along.

  But even if the attractors follow from what is logically coherent, they do not represent a “manifest destiny”. After all, even if it is logical for a sys­tem to evolve in a certain direction, any number of things can happen to disrupt it. You can get hit by a comet (outside shock to a system), or you can run into an ecological limit that was not accounted for (inside break­down of a system)—or there may be other, stronger attractors that you failed to spot, pulling you in another direction altogether.

  So even if there are some arrows that point history in certain general direc­tions, this is not the same as saying this and that will happen. There are no guaran­tees here. But that only serves to make our own con­scious parti­ci­pation in the self-organization of society all the more neces­sary. This is the para­doxical relationship at hand: Potentials become reali­ties in part because we recog­nize them and act upon them.

  But please
note that history doesn’t allow for an “individual” to see it “from the outside”; we can only ever see history from a vantage point within it. History can only be seen from the inside, and that is in itself a part of its evolution and path. Again, history navigates us and we it. This is the cyber­netic view, the perspectival view.

  In other words, we can be diligent students of the attractors of history and faithful navigators of its winds and currents—while still remaining agnostic as to what actually will happen. The point is that the ones who are best at recog­nizing what can happen, also have the greatest chances of aff­ecting what will .

  Do you now believe attractors exist and that they can be studied, and to some extent can be known in advance?

  What we are trying to do in this book is to take the vague currents currently forming in the Nordic countries and flesh out a more coher­ent and clear Nordic ideology, to be manifested in a few progressive soc­ieties and eventually spread to other parts of the world. There are paths society can take, and some of these are more logical, coherent, viable and con­ducive to human flourishing than others. We should find these paths and travel them together. Dreamers must learn to steer by the stars.

  Easier said than done. But let’s say it first, then do it.

  Chapter 1:

  RELATIVE UTOPIA

  “Here’s the deal. The human soul doesn’t want to be advised or fixed or saved. It simply wants to be witnessed—to be seen, heard and companioned exactly as it is. When we make that kind of deep bow to the soul of a suff­ering person, our respect reinforces the soul’s healing resources, the only resources that can help the sufferer make it through.”

  —Parker Palmer

  In a way, we’re living in our ancestors’ utopia. If they could have wit­nessed our lives today, they probably wouldn’t have believed their eyes: all the food you can eat, a minimum of hard manual labor, the expectation to see all your children reach adult age, and no drunken lords to abuse you—truly a paradise compared to what most of them had to put up with.

 

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