Part THREE — § 1

Critique-al Humanities, the Corporate University and the Pursuit of Profit

Although the texts by the Vice-President are occasioned by what she represents as a (local) “crisis” in the English Department at SUNY-Albany, they are part of a larger anti-(non-profit)-research and pro-business move in the University. In other words, the views articulated in her texts are effects of historical tendencies to adjust the rate of profit in the knowledge industry as part of changes in the globalization of capital. They are, in short, symptomatic of larger shifts in public spending caused by the emerging economic and political practices aimed at further transferring wealth from the public to the private sector. Public expenditure on higher education has declined since the beginning of the current decade: the “proportion of state funds devoted to [higher education] fell from 14 to 12.5 per cent” (Breneman B-4). The decrease is usually justified by a legislative hysteria about “budget crisis." However, the reduction of public support for higher education is taking place at a time when “more than 15 states have budget surpluses” (Breneman B-4). Take the example of New York State: in his budget for 1997, George E. Pataki, the Republican Governor of the State, has proposed sharp cuts in spending on public education, health care and other social programs at the very time that the State has a budget surplus of over $1.36 billion. The City of New York (which routinely cuts the budget of CUNY) has ended up with over an $800 million surplus in the same budget cycle (The New York Times, May 2, 1997, B-1, B-4). The budget crisis is simply a ruse for transferring wealth to the upper classes by means of tax cuts, capital gains cuts and the like, especially cuts in social spending such as education.

Such cuts in public funding are prompting a turn to increasing privatization. In the specific case of SUNY-Albany, as I have indicated in my text, “Public Education, Critique-al Citizenship and Capitalism," the

administrators are now competing with each other to demonstrate their value to the system by seeing who can most effectively adjust to the new 'realities.' But the reality of these new “realities” is not being questioned by the educators who are supposed to be critical intellectuals. Consequently, many SUNY-Albany administrators now openly talk about privatizing public education or, at least, adopting the ideals and methods of the 'private sector' as the only way of dealing with the current 'crisis'.

These funding shifts and privatizing practices should be critiqued and changed: they impose new and more drastic limits on public education; restrict access to knowledge; restrain free intellectual inquiry and replace critique-al citizenship with techno-subjects.

Those who have discussed “privatization” have, by and large, looked at it as a positive development — a “model for the future," to use David W. Breneman's word. “Privatization” of the public research university, however, is not simply a matter of the reduction of public funds; rather it is a “new type of organization whose culture focuses on providing quality goods or services." It is, in the words of Ted Marchese, a “mind set” (SUIQ 3). “Privatization," in other words, is a re-articulation of the university, turning it from a space of critique-al knowledges into a corporation run by managers and by means of such methods as “TQM” (Total Quality Management) which are widely deployed in for-profit corporations. In most research universities — whether formally private (Carnegie-Mellon, Syracuse) or public (Michigan, Georgia Tech) business management strategies, such as the TQM method, are now the order of the day. At Syracuse University, for instance, the TQM model has been adopted as “SUIQ” (Syracuse University Improving Quality). The purpose of SUIQ is to do at Syracuse University what TQM has done in such corporations as Motorola, IBM, Federal Express and Westinghouse. In order to reshape the University as a corporation, TQM takes the “customer” as its central figure and them establishes a relation of identity between the "'customer,' 'student' or 'colleague'" (SUIQ 3). All relations, to be more precise, are relations of “consumption." To implement this new model of management, "[Syracuse] University looked to Corning, Inc." (SUIQ 4). One consequence of transforming the university into a consumption unit is to replace “critique-al” knowledge with business “excellence” (as in CETL — “Center for Excellence in Teaching and Learning” at SUNY-Albany, which I will discuss at length later in this section).

SUNY-Albany, it seems, is convinced that the “wave of the future” is to undermine various forms of “basic research” in the humanities by weakening their supporting academic structures — primarily through the adoption of several different management models from the business world. Common to all these different management models being brought into SUNY-Albany and other universities is a shared antagonism to all practices that do not yield “profit," whether directly — by “bringing in money” to the University from outside — or indirectly—by producing skills and consciousness habits in the students/workforce that, as second order practices, will lead to profit-making activities. A research-oriented humanities program—including departments of English, Classics, French, German, Philosophy, History... — aimed at making critique-al knowledges available to citizens of a democratic society is in the way of such a de-formation of the university and thus must be either eliminated or marginalized. It is especially telling that SUNY-Albany has, in fact, eliminated its German Department.

An exemplary instance of this tendency to de-form research practices into more profit-making skills and information is the marginalization of the “history” departments at CUNY. Contrary to the pro-business propaganda, the dismantling of “history” departments at CUNY has nothing to do with a decline in the quality of the scholarship of the history faculty (the faculty of CUNY's history departments includes Arthur Schlesinger, Alfred Kazin, Blanche Wiesen Cook, David Rosner) or the lack of interest in history on the part of students. In fact at CUNY, between 1991 and 1994, “the number of juniors and seniors who declared a history major rose by more than 25 percent” (The New York Times, May 29, 1996, B-9). History departments at CUNY are marginalized, in other words, not because they are not producing first-rate scholarship or there is no interest in history on the part of students but simply because history is not a discipline which yields “profit” to Big Business. Instead, history has often offered some of the most critical assessments of corporate business practices in the U.S. and abroad. History has, in short, served critique-al citizenship by producing “basic research” that has insisted on maintaining a critique-al space in culture. The history programs at CUNY and SUNY-Albany's German Department are, of course, not the only instances of “downsizing” critique-al studies. At the University of Cincinnati, Bowling Green State University and Kent State University, graduate literature programs have either been downsized or completely eliminated (The Chronicle of Higher Education March 29, 1996, A-48). Comparative literature studies at the University of Illinois (Urbana-Champaign) and University of Rochester have been closed down at the very same time that cultural theory itself has shifted from inquiry into national to post-national cultures. One can, of course, add other examples to this list. However, what is significant is that the elimination of non-profit “literature” programs is not simply a matter of lack of financial resources but of changing priorities. For example, the Ohio Board of Regents “wants to replace the literature program” at Kent State University, “with a new Ph.D. in composition and rhetoric” (The Chronicle of Higher Education October 18, 1996, A-10). Syracuse University has just added a new Ph.D. in exactly the same subject, composition and rhetoric, because these programs have acquired high “market value” — they provide the communication “skills” needed by transnational capital. The same market forces that marginalize, downsize and eliminate such critique-al transnational cultural studies as “comparative literature” (at the University of Illinois and the University of Rochester) or “Italian and Portuguese” (at the University of North Carolina — Chapel Hill), proliferate programs in “composition," “writing” and “rhetoric." The “global English” that is discussed in these programs is the “global English” of Business, and the un-said of many “Creative Writing” programs has become the training of “best seller” producers whose books — like Hollywood big budget films — are crafted to have a transnational market. The narratives that “composition” and “writing” are undervalued and have been victim disciplines in the universities is simply a myth aimed at justifying the disproportionate funding of these programs and the inordinate power and influence that they have in the organization of priorities by the university central administration.

The Vice President's texts and her administrative practices, such as putting the English Department in “receivership," are moves to marginalize non-profit research in the humanities by, among other things, weakening the autonomy of its faculty. The moves to marginalize the English Department; eliminate the German Department, and to collapse the remaining modern languages into one department at SUNY-Albany; the elimination of language and literature programs across the country, as well as the fate of “history” at CUNY and elsewhere, are not isolated acts. These are all part of larger administrative moves to deform universities, especially in the next decade or so, reducing their humanities to peripheral units engaged largely in “service" work for more profit-making practices. This process will eventually replace autonomous departments devoted to (non-profit) “basic research” with a number of quasi-academic, quasi-autonomous units that, adopting a common (British) term for an organizational unit that operates largely autonomously, I call quangos (Quasi Autonomous National Government Organization). University quangos, unlike departments, by-pass the academic processes of decision-making — setting priorities by the majority of faculty — which both involve the democratic participation of members through open debate and discussion and regard intellectual dissent to be an integral part of self-governance and teaching in the university. Instead, quangos “report” directly to one of the senior administrators, usually a vice-president. Quangos, however, do not only weaken the autonomy of research units through their administrative structure, for example, by undermining faculty decision-making processes. They also undermine the central role of the critique-al humanities in a democratic society through the way they (re)define the very work of the humanities itself.

In a democracy, the role of the humanities — in its basic research and pedagogy — has been understood, at least since the 18th century which is the beginning of the new humanities in the West, as continuing, with various modifications, the legacies of the Enlightenment. My understanding of the “Enlightenment," I must point out, is radically different from the one popularized by bourgeois theorists in recent years — beginning with “readings” by the Frankfurt School writers. Most poststructuralists, ludic feminists, and NeoMarxists — as, for example, in Modernity: An Introduction to Modern Societies written by Stuart Hall and others — have routinely “read” the Enlightenment as essentializing “reason” and thus as a form of totalitarian rationalism. Among other things, this has provided bourgeois theory with an alibi to abandon “reason” and “rationality” and to put in its place both an essentializing “relativism” and an opportunistic pragmatism. The critique of reason in these discourses is itself part of a class politics that attempts to bracket reason and thus dismantle any critique-al understanding of material practices in culture. In his Socialism: Utopian and Scientific, Engels offers a historical critique of “reason” in the “Enlightenment," but his critique is aimed at historicizing reason and not abandoning it. He writes:

Every previous form of society and state, every old traditional notion was flung into the lumber-room as irrational; the world had hitherto allowed itself to be led solely by prejudice; everything in the past deserved only pity and contempt. The light of day, the realm of reason, now appeared for the first time; henceforth superstition, injustice, privilege and oppression were to be superseded by eternal truth, eternal justice, equality based on nature, and the inalienable rights of man.

We know today that this realm of reason was nothing more than the idealized realm of the bourgeoisie; that eternal justice found its realization in bourgeois justice; that equality reduced itself to bourgeois equality before the law; that bourgeois property was proclaimed as one of the most essential rights of man; and that the government of reason, Rousseau's social contract, came into being, and could only come into being, as a bourgeois democratic republic. The great thinkers of the eighteenth century were no more able than their predecessors to go beyond the limits imposed on them by their own epoch (46-47).

The “Enlightenment," in short, is an effect of class struggle and not a totalitarian rationalism as bourgeois critics have popularized it.

At the core of the humanities and the Enlightenment project has always been the education of critique-al citizens to see through the layers of superstition represented as truth: the ideologies — what Roland Barthes called social “myths” — that have blocked clear, rational thinking and thus have undermined the cause of the progress of humanity towards a society of truth and equality. The humanities, in other words, have sought to educate nuanced and engaged critique-al thinkers, develop an imaginative expansiveness, and foster a historical understanding of truth and justice. (Part of the post-al reading of the Enlightenment as totalitarian rationalism, however, has been to separate “truth” from “justice," as Lyotard does in his notion of “ethics” — as an ungrounded judgment — and to treat “justice” as simply a [case-by-case] pragmatic “differend” and truth as an impossible metaphysics.) Historically, then, the humanities have articulated discourses to develop a critique-al space — a zone of free, not-for-profit thinking — in a culture that has, since the 18th century, increasingly grown commercial and profit-oriented. It is, in fact, the emergence of this culture of commerce ("capitalism") that made the Enlightenment thinkers—Vico, Kant, Rousseau, Helveticus, Diderot, d'Alembert—and such post-Enlightenment thinkers as Hegel more committed to the humanities as a way of maintaining critique-al space as a necessary condition for a “good society." Mozart's “The Magic Flute," it should be remembered, is a above all a hymn to “critique”:

The rays of the sun

Drive away the night

Destroyed is the hypocrite's

Surreptitious power

"Surreptitious power” (the undemocratic and coercive force that appropriates resources to serve the interests of a few at the expense of the many) is what the critique-al citizen is educated to fight against. Without freeing humanity from the “surreptitious power” of myths and ideologies represented as truth, the Enlightenment humanities argued, there will be no “good society." The displacement of the humanities today is, in short, an attempt to marginalize the struggle for a “good society”—which affirms the well-being of the collectivity (not “networking") — and to put in its place a “pleasure society” that celebrates the singularities of individuals by valorizing the “desire” to obtain and “consume” objects of pleasure. The marginalization of critique-al practices, to put it in words that foreground the point I have been making about “profit," replaces the “good society” with a “consumer society." The ability of the citizen to accumulate the power of (personal) consumption and not her ability to critique-ally put human “need” before “desire” — and work to meet these needs—becomes the object of profit-making education.

Since its modern re-articulation in the writings of Adorno, Horkheimer, Benjamin, Marcuse and other Frankfurt School theorists, “critique” has been the subject of attacks by those in power in the culture of commerce. One line of these attacks—from the early opponents of the Frankfurt School to, for example, Marjorie Perloff's “A Passion for Content”[1]—has been to equate “critique” with what Perloff calls “Gotcha." Others have attacked “critique” by calling it “trashing” (for example, Jane Gallop, Marianne Hirsch and Nancy Miller in “Criticizing Feminist Criticism"), “harassment," “un-civil”.... By calling “critique” “Gotcha," “harassment," "trashing," “un-civility," the dominant powers have tried to protect its practices from being scrutinized and examined in the public domain and from a rigorous inquiry into its un-said assumptions (un-said because they are treated as self-evident through the exercise of power).

Critique, of course, is a quite distinct practice from “Gotcha," “harassment” and "trashing." Critique is a public act aimed at examining what is taken for granted and put beyond argument—what is treated as a first principle. It is aimed at “practices” not persons; it works to open up space for all who are affected by these practices — to develop new spaces for knowledge and democratic practices of equality. In contrast, “Gotcha," “harassment” and “trashing” move in the opposite direction: they turn away from practices to focus on persons. “Harassment," for example, is deployed by those who hold institutional power (or are the agents of those who hold such power) to limit not only access to resources but also the life-chances and free choices of other persons who do not hold institutional power. “Harassment” is the use of force and/or intimidation to maintain existing practices by naturalizing inequality and privilege and by silencing the questioning of these practices. Those in power have long called critiques of their practices “harassment"/"trashing"/"un-civility."[2] In doing so they have tried to block any questioning of the legitimacy of their power. To equate critique with “harassment, “trashing," “un-civility”...is to obscure power relations and protect the dominant power.

Removing critique from the scene of the social produces a new cultural space — one in which social relations are mystified and the conditions are made ready for situations like those Ali S. Zaidi describes at the University of Rochester:

That the savagery of the market should prevail so completely over voices of wisdom and understanding, that corporate theft should pass for fiscal necessity, that the bottom line should pass for 'vision,' and that the orders and instructions that have turned UR [University of Rochester] into a corporate plantation should pass for the dialogue of an 'intellectual community' is indeed the very measure of our disenfranchisement” ("The Rochester Renaissance” 56).

It is a mark of this “disenfranchisement” that “literature," “philosophy," “history”...are displaced, in a consumer society of desire, by such profitable and “pragmatic” practices as “writing studies” which have a ready market. Critique-al work in the humanities has not been aimed at developing a specific skill but at cultivating a mode of thinking that insists on the priority of the human search for truth whether this has turned out to be “profit” making or (as is more often the case) has gone against the very grain of a society that has valorized consumption and given priority to “profit." It is this critique-al thinking (not to be confused with “critical thinking” which has become a commodity now taught as a skill as part of writing studies) that the quango-ing of the university displaces so that business practices aimed at making “profit” will assume the status of “natural” acts in human daily life.

Notes

[1]

For a Discussion of Perloff's notion of reading as un-critique-al, see M. Zavarzadeh, “Corporatist Humanities."

[2]

In his “Seduced by Civility: Political Manners and the Crisis of Democratic Values," Benjamin DeMott demonstrates how the demand for “civility” by the ruling class is an attempt to erase critique-al contestations from the scene of the social.