AN ANALYSIS AND CRITIQUE OF THE POLITICAL AND EDUCATIONAL PHILOSOPHY OF JOSEPH TUSSMAN BY NATALIE VEINER FREEMAN B.A., University of British Columbia, 196^. A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS OF THE DEGREE OF MASTER.OF ARTS . In the Department of Philosophy We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA November, 197^ .;, ' In presenting th i s thesis in pa r t i a l fu l f i lment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the Univers i ty of B r i t i s h Columbia, I agree that the L ibrary shal l make it f ree ly ava i lab le for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of th is thesis for scholar ly purposes may be granted by the Head of my Department or by his representat ives. It is understood that copying or pub l i cat ion of th is thesis fo r f inanc ia l gain sha l l not be allowed without my written permission. Department of fi \ ^ W f ^ l l ^ The Univers i ty of B r i t i s h Columbia Vancouver 8. Canada i A B S T R A C T The struggle from Plato onward, i n every p o l i t i c a l theory and i n every actual p o l i t i c a l system, has been the attempt to deal with the notion of public purpose, generally expressed as the public interest. The struggle has been to make sense out of the relationship between a concept of public interest on the one hand, and a concept of private interests on the other. This same struggle i s the central theme of Tussman's theory of obligation, and i n his attempt to come to terms w i t h the problem, I have been struck by how Platonic a stance he i s f i n a l l y forced to adopt even though he seems to be i n i t i a l l y writing out of a different tradition: the democratic tradition. I want, then, to trace a pervasive influence of Platonic notions on Tussman's p o l i t i c a l theory; specifically, I want to argue that i t i s the Platonic view of the ' s e l f and i t s relationship to a special theory of freedom which has direct bearing upon three areas of Tussman's argument in Obligation and the B ody P o l i t i c . I want to argue that these Platonic notions directly inform his view of the public interest, his theory of representation, and f i n a l l y , flowing out of these f i r s t t wo, Tussman's distinctive theory of education. C O N T E N T S i i page Introduction 1 Chapter I; ANALYSIS OF TUSSMAN'S POLITICAL THEORY.... 4 1. Definition of Body P o l i t i c 5 2. Theory of Membership 6 3. Relationship of the Notion of the Public Interest to Platonic Notions 10 4. The Platonic Theory of the Division of the Soul.. 18 Chapter II: A 'HUMANISTIC CRITIQUE 2 6 Chapter III; THEORY OF REPRESENTATION 35 1. Concept of P o l i t i c a l Freedom 40 2, Consequences of the Dichotomy Between Private and Public Interest 49 3. An Alternative Model... 57 4, Theory of Democracy 64 Chapter IV; THEORY OF EDUCATION 70 Conclusion 90 Bibliography 92 Post-Script 93 i i i ACKNOWLEDGEMENT I would l i k e to thank Robert Rowan, Donald G. Brown and Elbridge Rand for the help they have given me not only in the preparation of this paper but throughout my educational experience in the philosophy department at the University of B.C. INTRODUCTION -1-Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c i s an attempt to write p o l i t i c a l theory rather than to merely analyze i t . The book i s written from "the perspective of action" rather than from "the per-spective of description"* and the argument, so Tussman says, "turns" on this distinction; for he writes the book' from the perspective of being inside the mind of a man who i s a participant i n the sovereign function i n a democracy, and Is facing the problem of deciding how to act i n that capacity. Tussman, then, i s presenting a theory of obligation i n p o l i t i c a l l i f e which only becomes sensible i f i t i s appropriate to ask the question "what should I do?" rather than "what am I doing?" or "what w i l l I do?" as a p o l i t i c a l agent. From this perspective, he has some t e l l i n g cannons to f i r e at the door of the fortress of the social sciences. High time too, for the descriptive-predictive hangover of the s c i e n t i f i c model has badly scarred the study of p o l i t i c a l theory and Tussman is right when he points out that "the art of training of the decision maker i s not simply identical with that of the social scientist; and a school of government cannot simply be a division of social science." Tussman claims, fundamentally, that the 'is/ought* dis-tinction, as we too commonly re-interpret Hume, should be put to rest i n p o l i t i c a l matters - for a democracy cannot survive unless i t understands and takes seriously the obligations and duties i n -volved i n the role of being a p o l i t i c a l member and agent. 1 Joseph Tussman, Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c , New York, Oxford Press, 1961, p. 12. 2 Ibid., p. 1^ . - 2 -In order to write from this perspective of there being obligations i n p o l i t i c a l l i f e , Tussman must have two assumptions operating: (1) f i r s t of a l l , he must assume that man i s free, i n the sense - not compelled - to make choices about important decisions in his l i f e , and (2) secondly, he must assume the possibility of rational arguments about morality. That i s , he must assume that there are some moral c r i t e r i a against which a member or agent can examine his alternatives; for to say a man 'ought* to do something — or more important —: for me to make a judgment about what 'I ought to do*, means I am engaged in assessing a claim on my action which arises outside myself; a claim which I can either accept or reject as binding upon my actions. So to talk about obligation at a l l , means, at the very least, that I am engaged in the process of acknowledging rational moral claims upon my actions. Tussman, then, i s writing from the perspective of the moral agent in a democracy; which i s to i n s i s t that democratic p o l i t i c a l man always exists within a structure of actual public purposes, and that these purposes can be known and f e l t to be obligatory. The struggle from Plato onward, in every p o l i t i c a l theory and i n every actual p o l i t i c a l system, has been the attempt to deal with the notion of public purpose, generally expressed as the public interest. The struggle has been to make sense out of the 3 Tussman makes i t clear that he doesn't want to take on the whole free-will problem, but that he assumes there are jobs that need to be done in a democracy and that the members of a democracy can do them. Most important — one of these jobs is to decide whether or not we're going to take up our 'governing' role in a self-governing community. -3-relationship between a concept of public interest on the one hand, and a concept of private interests on the other. This same struggle i s the central theme of Tussman's theory of obligation, and in his attempt to come to terms with the problem, I have been struck by how Platonic a stance he i s f i n a l l y forced to adopt even though he seems to be i n i t i a l l y writing out of a different tradition? the democratic tradition. I want, then, to trace a pervasive influence of Platonic notions on Tussman's p o l i t i c a l theory: sp e c i f i c a l l y , I want to argue that i t i s the Platonic view of the ' s e l f and i t s relationship to a special theory of freedom which has direct bearing upon three areas of Tussman's argument i n Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c . I want to argue that these Platonic notions directly inform his view of the public interest, his theory of representation, and f i n a l l y , flowing out of these f i r s t two, Tussman's distinctive theory of education. CHAPTER I Tussman begins Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c by stating that his concern i s with the nature of relationship; but he quickly moves to narrow that focus to p o l i t i c a l relationship, and then, within a few sentences, even more specifically to the relationship between the members of a body p o l i t i c . Next he searches for the definition of this concept of a 'body p o l i t i c ' , saying that he i s looking for the distinctive features that hold that kind of grouping of people together. It soon becomes apparent, however, that his search for the definition of a body p o l i t i c i s really a circular one; for Tussman already has his own c r i t e r i a that the definition must satisfy. In fact, i t turns out that i t i s his knowledge of the workings of the democratic process - especially the American one -that underlies the definition of body.politic in the f i r s t chapter, even though the word democratic doesn't appear u n t i l P.22. Tussman wants to so define a body p o l i t i c that the concept becomes identical to the concept of a democracy, so that he can produce a model of a body p o l i t i c which answers the distinctive features of the relation-ship in a democracy of the ruler to the ruled and vice versa. That model turns out to be 'voluntary agreement.' So, for Tussman, the distinguishing features of a body p o l i t i c i s that i t must be able to accomodate three democratic notions: ( l ) the notion of the 'common good': that i s , the commitment to -5-comraon interests or purposes which constitutes the j u s t i f i c a t i o n of an authority structure, (2) the notion of 'legitimacy*: which involves a sub-set of notions such as 'duty', 'obligation', and 'right*, making moral claims extending beyond mere claims of 'prudence' or 'power', and (3) the notion of ' p o l i t i c a l freedom': the idea that there is a way of reconciling 'being free' and 'being under law'. To these c r i t e r i a he'introduces three suitors: the models of power, habit and custom, and voluntary agreement. It soon becomes obvious that only the model of voluntary agreement i s going to f i t -with a l i t t l e pinching and straining at that. So Tussman concludes that the proper mode of a body p o l i t i c i s an association of people in relationship to authority, based upon their voluntary agreement. What I am arguing here is that his attempt to define a body p o l i t i c i s not so much a legitimate definition as i t i s an attempt to e l i c i t the characteristics governing the relationship of author-i t y in a democracy. But there i s no reason to see a democratic body p o l i t i c and a body p o l i t i c as identical notions, for there i s nothing inherent i n the idea of a body p o l i t i c which demands that i t satisfy Tussman's arbitrary c r i t e r i a . On the contrary, i t doesn't seem re-dundant to speak of a democratic body p o l i t i c , whereas i t does seem uncomfortable to speak of a body p o l i t i c and assume everyone knows you mean a democratic one. Even Tussman doesn't risk that; for there are several places where he qualifies his use of body p o l i t i c after - 6 -his definition of i t . * * S t i l l , i t turns out to be an interesting exercise for i t makes clear some of the different kinds of authority relationships that are possible, and what conditions they do or do not satisfy. Almost immediately following on the heels of his d e f i n i -tion of a body p o l i t i c , he introduces the idea of a "member". I want to argue that there are some fundamental implications of being seen as a "member" of a body p o l i t i c , where we would ordinarily be accustomed to use the word 'subject' or 'citizen', which only a democratic body p o l i t i c based upon a voluntary model'' can provide. It i s important to point out that already, i n this f i r s t chapter, Tussman's idea of a "member" i s a very special one stemming directly from his conception of the body p o l i t i c : specifically, the criterion he sets up of the common good or the public interest.^ Furthermore, I want to argue that his interpretation of this criterion of the public interest stems directly, in turn, from the Platonic theory of the soul. But before pursuing this relationship between his criterion of public interest and Platonic notions, l e t me f i r s t turn to a consideration of his special idea of a "member"; for so much of the later arguments in the book depend upon understanding i t . 4 ( l ) Tussman, Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c , p. 27. "A body p o l i t i c , based upon consent," (2) Ibid., p, 21. "...a theory which meets the demands of a body p o l i t i c concerned with p o l i t i c a l freedom." 5 Following Tussman from this point on, with attention to his definition, I'm using interchangeably the notions 'body p o l i t i c ' , 'democracy', and a 'group based upon voluntary agreement'. 6 Tussman f i r s t introduces the notion of the 'common good', but he later talks about this notion as the 'public interest' and also 'public purpose. From this point on I shall speak of this notion, primarily as 'the public interest', -7-The usual or ordinary notion we have o f a member o f a government generally means a designated individual somehow arriving at a particular office with particular authority. Thus when we speak of a Member of Parliament, we generally refer to a man who has been elected by a certain constituent group to take his seat in a governing tribunal and share in that process. Tussman extends this usual notion of a member of a government to include a l l whom we are more accustomed to call citizens or subjects of a government; and he is able to do this and s t i l l make sense because of the way he has already talked about a body politic. More explicitly, his enlarged notion of "member" flows from his establishing the model of voluntary agreement as the only one that satisfies his criteria of what constitutes a body politic; for from a l l models of voluntary agreement i t is perfectly natural to talk about members. What else could you talk of? So, in fact, to slide from the definition of body politic into talk of members is necessitated by the way he talks about the body politic and is already an unusual use of the word member. Let me now point out one of the important consequences of this point. Because of Tussman's special sense of the word member, following logically from his construction of a body politic, he can claim that the ordinary role of a citizen or subject is markedly changed from our usual conception o f i t . And this he proceeds to do. He wants to argue that there is an extension of the range of duties and rights flowing from that special conception of being a 'member' - 8 -of a "body p o l i t i c , and i n particular, stemming from the criterion of the public interest. It i s important to understand this claim for the rest of the book lo g i c a l l y depends upon i t . Tussman wants to argue what Flato did as well; that there are two ranges of rights that may be accorded the ruled by the ruler: there are the rights of subjects, and there are the rights of agent-citizens.' In any government that we would recognize as legitimate, i t could be argued that there must be at least the f i r s t category of rights accorded. In this category we would place the right to 'equal protection* and the right to 'due process of law' or any similar rights that entitle us as subjects to conditions of fairness: the right to a lawyer, to a f a i r t r i a l , to non-discriminatory treatment. However, i t isn't the case that any government that may be legitimate must extend the second category of rights: the right of free speech, of equal participation in the governing function, the right to vote, the right to a free press etc., because i t i s possible for there to be legitimate governments that aren't democratic. (I make this naked point without stopping to pursue c r i t e r i a of l e g i t i -macy here.) This second category of rights, Tussman would argue, i s a function of our member role i n a democracy; that i s , they are the rights that are accorded to us in our c i v i c capacity when we are behaving as agents, not as merely subjects: when we are acting in our capacity as voters, sovereigns, rulers. 7 For Plato, i t would be the rights of the guardian-citizens. -9-So Tussman's argument goes, there are rights that must be accorded to us i n our capacity as subjects by any legitimate govern-ment whether or not i t i s a democratic one, but there are additional rights that we accord to ourselves (so to speak) as members of a democratic government in order to f u l f i l l our role as agents. It i s to this l a t t e r category of rights that Tussman means to refer to when he talks about the 'member' and i t i s the implications of those rights for a theory of duties or obligations which he wants to draw out in the next two chapters. He wants to argue that we do not generally understand this role that we have based upon the rights accorded to us as members in a democracy pursuing our agent role, and that i t must be the task of p o l i t i c a l education to f i l l this vacuum. Actually, as I w i l l argue, what he really does i s to convert the notion of member quite quickly into the notion of agent and then, r e s t r i c t the notion of agent again to that of the 'elected representative*. The result of this conversion, I w i l l argue, i s due to Platonic influences, and in the end, his 'elected representative' becomes barely distinguishable from a Platonic guardian. The point to be made here i s simply that the rest of the 8 book — and most importantly — his theory of education — turns on the specialness of his model of a body p o l i t i c and the unusual con-ception of member log i c a l l y flowing from i t . 8 Though Tussman talks about the relationship between p o l i t i c a l theory and education almost immediately, I leave the theme u n t i l the last section of this paper to pick up on: I do so because a thorough understanding of i t , requires an analysis of other parts of his argument f i r s t . -10-Let me now return to pursuing the. relationship of Tuss-man's criterion of the public interest to Platonic notions. In Chapter II, Tussman talks about the nature of membership i n the body p o l i t i c - using the model of voluntary agreement that he has already set up. He begins by analyzing the meaning and consequen-ces of single individuals coming together to form a group under a system of agreements which create a legitimate authority. His claim i s that the act of voluntary membership, or the status of being a voluntary member, e l i c i t s a new relationship between the individuals so related, and that this new relationship expresses i t s e l f in two fundamental acts of subordination or obligations: (1) the obligation to subordinate private to public decisions, and (2) the obligation to subordinate private to public interest. Tussman i s arguing that this two-fold subordination i s analytic to the concept of membership i n a voluntary group based upon agreement; that i s , he i s arguing that obligations ( l ) and (2) are what i s log i c a l l y entailed in agreeing to be a member of a voluntary association. I would agree that ( l ) i s always analytic to the concept of voluntary membership, but (2) is only analytic i f the kind of voluntary association one agrees to be a member of is a body p o l i t i c so defined, as Tussman does, to include the criterion of commitment to the public interest in i t s very definition. This i s a small point, and I do not wish to pursue i t further here; I raise i t merely to show how much of his conception -11-of the nature of membership i n a voluntary association derives from his definition of a body p o l i t i c rather than the other way around5 especially from the specific notion of the public interest. For i t i s certainly possible to talk about voluntary groups based upon agree-ment, where people stand i n some other kind of relationship to each other than the subordination of their private interest to the public interest. His second obligation of subordination i s only logically required then, assuming that the public interest i s always involved in the concept of a voluntary association based upon agreement. This brings me to the major problem with the book; the real lack of any substantial theory about the nature of the public interest; specifically, the relationship, i f any, of private interest to public interest, or private good to public good. It i s a distinc-tion, f i r s t met here, that i s fundamental to everything that Tussman has to say about the obligation of both the member and the agent, yet he never really pursues i t deeply. The problem i s underlined when a person asks himself why he would want to be a member of a body p o l i t i c so constituted; that i s why i s i t sensible or reasonable to subordinate his private interest to the' public interest? Only i f he becomes clear on what the public interest involves is he in a position to determine whether, indeed, he would want to be a voluntary member of such an association. The fundamental question i s then what i s the relationship of a person's private interest to the public interest? In this regard -12-Tussman gives us some sketchy answers. F i r s t of a l l we know that the model of voluntary agreement means that at least, in his view, the private must always subordinate i t s e l f to the public interest where-ever there i s conflict between the two. He also t e l l s us that this subordination i s logically bound up with the guarantee of certain procedural rights stemming from the principle of equality: those of 'due process' and 'equal protection'; for who would feel obliged to subordinate their private interest to a public interest that did not guarantee them a minimum of equal consideration and protection? It i s d i f f i c u l t to see how one could claim the rights without having made the subordination or how one can be held to the subordination and denied the rights. Both are inseperable aspects of membership.g Thirdly, stemming from this last condition, we know that therefore, the public interest i s somehow concerned with a "system of interests 9 of which any individual's i s only a part." But more than this, we do not know. We do not know how a member would determine what i s in the public interest; what c r i t e r i a he would use. We do not know what the public interest i s made up of: is i t made up of generalized private interests? of the majority who share the same interest? Or i s i t something not even related to private interest, but another kind of conception? At this point in the book, the only further hint we have of the relationship between the private and public interest is Tuss-man's vague remarks that the public interest must be concerned with the total amount of interests dealt with i n some equal way: 8 Tussman, Obligation p.31. 9 Ibid., p. 28. -13-To be a member i s to acknowledge that one's own interests are only a part of a broader system of interests, that other members have theirs as you have yours, and thus i t is the function of government to promote and safeguard the entire system, of which yours is a part but no more significant part than any others.^ It looks as though he is saying at this point that a l l private interests have the same significance and that the public interest i s directly related to these private interests, but i t can't be made up of only your interest. But later on he talks about public interest as the "recognition that one's own interests 12 constitute only a subordinate part of a broader system of interests," Is a "broader system of interests" the same thing as a system of private interests of which the individuals' i s only a part? Or i s i t another whole conception which reduces the notion of private interest to t r i v i a l i t y ? Furthermore, even i f i t i s the former case, we s t i l l don't know how a member can e l i c i t the public interest out of the welter of private interests he is confronted with: by what procedure, guide, principle? This problem, f i r s t encountered in the chapter on mem-bership, becomes even a more serious one when Tussman comes to discuss the role of the agent in a democracy. The member as "subject", needs only acknowledge the claim of subordinating his private interest 11 Joseph Tussman, Obligation, p. 28. 12 Ibid., p. 29. -14-to the public interest, but the agent must be involved, not only i n that same act of subordination, but also i n the actual day to day determination or creation of the very public interest the member must subordinate himself to. But there i s no additional help offered out of the confusion here either. Let me suggest that there are two directions i n which one could move at this point with regard to the problem of the public interest. One direction i s to assume that each members* private interest has a legitimate claim upon the c r i t e r i a of the public interest, and the problem l i e s in trying to find some r e l i -able method of computing a l l of these legitimate private desires into a "system of interests" which apportions an equal share to a l l or the greatest possible number. The classic attempts i n this direction would be the U t i l i t a r i a n move to compute "the greatest happiness of the greatest numbers" based on just such an assumption, or modern attempts in welfare economics to distribute benefits i n some appropriate way. The second direction i s to see that there i s a different sort of problem involved in trying to determine what i s i n the public interest. To move in this direction i s to find something lacking in the ordinary conception of 'private interest', which brings the kind of claim of legitimacy between private and public interest mentioned above into question, I want to argue that i t i s this second direction which Tussman takes at this point, i f not -15-purposefully, then i m p l i c i t l y , because he has a view of the re la t ion-ship between private and public interest which is essentially a 13 Platonic one depending upon a.special interpretation of 'private interest* . I want to argue that Tussman sees there are only two possible interpretations of the public interest : one that he continually argues for , based upon his commitment to Platonic notions, against what he sees as a more popular one now in practise. It i s this more popular Interpretation, sometimes characterized as the theory of pluralism, which Tussman finds disastrous for the survival of a body p o l i t i c committed to the 'common good'. Let me outline these two interpretations b r i e f l y . ( The theory of pluralism is the view that a democratic system provides the framework for the legitimate pursuit of private individualism; where each individual regards his interest in a narrow and private sphere. Each man, according to this conception of the public interest , has the right to decide what his interest i s and to express that judgement p o l i t i c a l l y . What Tussman sees as the inevitable outcome of this view, is that public interest then becomes the result of the vying of a l l these personal, individual interests for the most support; each person trying to catch the vote of his neighbour, pursuading, pres-suring, arguing, u n t i l a solution is reached; u n t i l some interest 13 '//hen I refer to Platonic notions, I am referring to the views generally expressed in the Socratic dialogues, but with particular emphasis to Republic. -16-succeeds in gaining the support of the majority or a bargain i s struck: " for t h i s , you can have that . " Tussman argues that, on this view, public interest becomes defineable in terms of a procedure of compromise among private interest , seen as the expression of peoples' wants. In this process, he argues, a man's private interest i s thought to be considered because he has been given a chance to express his wishes through being given a vote. I f he f a i l s , i f his interest does not carry the day, he must accept the fact that he has had his equal chance; he has participated i n the system such as i t i s . If he i s not s a t i s f i e d , he must organize for another day, meanwhile facing the fact that the alternatives to this kind of system are worse. What Tussman is arguing throughout Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c i s that there i s at least one alternative which is not worse, but much better. He argues an essentially Platonic notion about the public interest : that there i s some objective c r i t e r i a by which'specially g i f ted and trained individuals can make decisions as to what i s i n the community's public interest . Where that public interest accomodates private, individual interest , that i s a happy chance occurrence, but more often, i t is the expression of something quite opposed to a person's private 14 interest ; i t i s more often the case of 'governing' those private interests through the development of a well-trained, disc ipl ined 14 Plato, i n the Republic, labors hard to identify 'pr ivate ' and •public' interest via his theory of knowledge; but s t i l l needs to rely on a.notion of 'governing' private interests as an intermediary stage — and then, only intermediary for the'guardians, who have the capacity to ultimately 'know' or 'apprehend' the truth. ' ' ;,. -17-mind which acts as our best se l f . In fact, on this view, following one's private interests within a democratic structure which has that very pursuit for everyone as i t s purpose, is more like a return to the Hobessian "state of nature" - a condition where power rather than authority, and manipulation rather than justice, prevails. Plato's view, and Tussman's as well, depends for under-standing on the distinction between two pairs of concepts that are closely connected to each other: the distinction between the concept of needs and the concept of wants, and the distinction between the concept of real and the concept of apparent interest. Let me try a short analysis where a long one i s called for. In the simplest sense ~ the distinction that both of these .concepts refer to i s the difference between what a person may want -what he sees as the immediate object of his happiness — and i n re a l i t y , what he may need or come to see as good for him i f he had the time for reflection, or had the wisdom to see what in the long run of his l i f e would really make him happy. Much of the weight of this distinction must be born by our experienced knowledge of the relationship between (for want of better terms I use the classic categories) passion and reason. That i s , the distinction between a conception of ourselves when we behave in the throes of passion; when we are concerned primarily with immediate and momentary gratification of our individual wants — and ~ a conception of ourselves as future-oriented, rational, responsible beings concerned with our long range needs. -18-The' point of t h i s d i s t i n c t i o n i s to connect what a person needs with what' he would want i f he were f u l l y r a t i o n a l , therefore considered h i s long-range i n t e r e s t ; then, what a person wants, but doesn't need, i s seen as i n h i s apparent i n t e r e s t but not i n h i s r e a l i n t e r e s t . Real i n t e r e s t i s connected to reason as apparent i n t e r e s t i s to passion. The roots of t h i s d i s t i n c t i o n between reason and passion - and the implications f o r a theory of human behavior are found i n the P l a t o n i c theory of the d i v i s i o n of the soul. One way to view the Pl a t o n i c theory of the d i v i s i o n of the soul i s as an attempt to provide an answer to the problem of the r e l a t i o n s h i p between freedom and the ' s e l f . I t i s a doctrine which i s d i r e c t l y derived from a s p e c i a l view of what constitutes the nature of a person, f o r i t proposes that to be free a person must have a kind of Internal freedom as well as freedom from external r e s t r a i n t s , and that t h i s kind of i n t e r n a l freedom i s the expression of the 'true s e l f of a person. In order to support t h i s proposition, Plato i s dependent upon a theory of the s e l f : how the s e l f emerges, and how i t functions. For Plato, man i s l i k e a community with a l l sorts of r i v a l i n t e r e s t s which do not e x i s t compatibly side by side. I t becomes necessary to r e s t r a i n some i n order t o f r e e others. The free man f o r Plato i s one who p r a c t i s e s temperance and "temperance surely means a kind of or d e r l i n e s s , a c o n t r o l of c e r t a i n pleasures and appetites""^ so that a person can act i n accordance with h i s true 15 F. M. Cornford, The Republic of Plato, Oxford, U n i v e r s i t y Press, 1956, i v . 430. -19-nature or 'best s e l f . But the problem Is, which of the multitu-dinous wants of a given i n d i v i d u a l are expressive of h i s true nature; which must be c o n t r o l l e d and which encouraged; which are such that t h e i r f u l f i l l m e n t i s conducive to the expression of our 'inner' or 'true' or 'best' s e l f and therefore enable one to be free? Plato's answer to t h i s problem i s to put forward a view about our i n t e r e s t s which claims that a l l our wants are not of the same natural order or worth; they are a l l not i n our actual or ' r e a l 1 i n t e r e s t s i n the same way. His c r i t e r i o n of what makes an i n t e r e s t ' r e a l ' i s r e l a t e d to what w i l l give us l a s t i n g s a t i s f a c t i o n , and that c r i t e r i o n i s r e l a t e d i n turn to h i s way of d i v i d i n g up the source of our various i n t e r e s t s i n t o categories or parts of the s o u l : (1) the a p p e t i t i v e (2) the r a t i o n a l and (3) the s p i r i t e d , ^ His f i r s t two categories seem recognizable d i s t i n c t i o n s : We may c a l l that part of the soul whereby i t r e f l e c t s , r a t i o n a l ; and the other, with which i t f e e l s hunger and t h i r s t and i s d i s t r a c t e d by sexual passion and a l l the other d e s i r e s , we w i l l c a l l i r r a t i o n a l appetite, associated with pleasure i n the replenishment of c e r t a i n wants,^ But the t h i r d category — the s p i r i t e d — seems somewhat strange. Plato defines t h i s t h i r d category as "that passionate element which 18 makes us f e e l angry and indignant," but at the same time, i n s i s t s that i t doesn't belong i n the category of appetites, but i s a d i f f e r e n t kind of passion - sometimes i n c o n f l i c t with the other appetites - though i t can be shown to be d i s t i n c t from reason. I t 16 Cornford, The Republic, i v . 439. 17 Loc. c i t . 18 Loc. c i t . -20-appears that he i s talking about a kind of neutral category of pas-sionate anger which i s , so he says, naturally present in children and animals — a moral indignation which can be used i n the service of reason i f i t i s properly trained, I do not wish to argue here whether this third category makes sense or not except to say in passing that i t does seem strange to separate off one element of passion, namely, anger or indignation, and i n s i s t that i t i s separate.from a l l the other instinctual emotions that we ordinarily refer to as passions. I leave that particular and well-worn problem alone however, for the connection of Tussman's conception of public interest and his theory of representation to Plato's theory of the division of the soul does not depend upon it} that connection can be aptly demonstrated by acknowledging the im-portance of Plato's major conception: the s p l i t t i n g off of the rational elements in our nature from others we can collect under the general heading of the instinctual-emotional l i f e . I would like to elaborate on that conception and show the implications following from i t both for Plato and for Tussman. Plato's conception of the nature of man depends upon the belief that within each person there is a rational or moral element which i s l i k e a small seed tucked away among many other r i v a l elements, a l l competing for attention and expression. This rational element of a person is considered to be his 'best s e l f : the self which represents his true nature, for i t i s the self which is truly -21-i n tune with what i s good f o r him — with what w i l l contribute to a more temperate, more just and therefore happier and b e t t e r l i f e . However, as already pointed out, man i s d i v i d e d against himself, having within h i s nature as well, surges of impulse or passion which are obstacles to the free exercise of h i s best s e l f and therefore to the attainment of what he would r e a l l y want i f only he were f r e e from the shackles of these i r r a t i o n a l parts of h i s nature and able to choose.-So, on t h i s account, the nature of man i s s p l i t : on the one hand there i s the transcendent, r a t i o n a l , ' r e a l ' i n t e r e s t -oriented c o n t r o l l e r which i s the b e t t e r part, while on the other, there i s the empirical bundle of desires and passions — momentary 'apparent' i n t e r e s t s which must be d i s c i p l i n e d by the higher r a t i o n a l s e l f and brought to heel because they comprise the worse part. For Plato, f o r a man to be "master of himself" means: ...that within the. man himself, i n h i s soul, there i s a b e t t e r part and a worse; and that he i s h i s own master when the part which i s b e t t e r by nature has the worse under i t s c o n t r o l . , . . i t i s considered a disgrace, when, through bad breeding or bad company, the better part i s overwhelmed by.the worse,,.,A man in that condi-t i o n i s c a l l e d a slave to himself and intemperate,. I7 I am arguing that the assumption that t h i s view puts forward i s that i t i s our r a t i o n a l capacity alone which reveals our true or higher nature: the nature of a human performing that function f o r which he i s uniquely and best suited. Only when reason 19 Cornford, The Republic, i v . 430 - i v . 4-31. -22-i s in control are we performing that function and therefore are performing freely as our best se l f . Accordingly, freedom becomes identified with rationality for, on this account, only rational ends can be true objects or wants of a free man's true nature. This i s not the end of the story however, for a problem arises when we see that there i s nothing inherent i n this human nature so described which guarantees that our best self, i f l e f t to i t s own devices, w i l l indeed triumph over our worse self. The argument therefore continues, that part of us, the seed of our best self, requires nourishment i f i t i s to grow properly or at a l l . Part of that nourishment may be the purposeful development of latent capacities such as training in deliberation, reasoning and logic; part of that nourishment may be merely the creation of the best possible environment for the natural unfolding of these 20 • capacities; but part of that nourishment must also be the forcible restraint of our instinctual desires and passions in order to give our better self a chance to emerge. Interestingly enough, on this view of the nature of man, i t i s man's lower nature — his desires and passions — which appear to be naturally stronger; which, i f not restrained particularly early in l i f e , may well run away with his personality or character. It is this irrational part of man which seems to be the most powerful element of the soul; yet the true self i s not 20 This i s pretty much the view put forward by Socrates in Meno. -23-identified with what i s most powerful in us, but with what i s weakest: the rational element. It i s this special power relation-ship which makes i t necessary to talk about restraint - either external in the form of authority, or internal in the sense of self-mastery - as necessary in order to sh i f t the power from man's 21 lower or worst self to his higher or best self. It i s important to see what kind of shift takes place here with our ordinary conception of freedom; for this necessary restraint or control (either external or self-mastery) i s seen, not as our usual notion of restraint, but as the arbiter of true freedom. For freedom i s seen here not as doing what you 'want', i f what you want i s connected to passion or instinctual desires, but doing what you rationally see that you 'need' to do: doing what you 'ought' to do i f you were acting as your best self i n your 'real' interest. Freedom on this account, i s not freedom to do what i s irrational. For there i s the implicit assumption that what i s irrational i s really harmful to oneself and therefore detrimental to one's real or best interests, and no man, i t i s argued, who i s truly free would act against his own real interests, for that would be enslavement, not freedom. Let me make a note here that the foregoing account explains i n part the paradoxical assertion of Rousseau that i t i s sometimes necessary "to force men to be free"; for, as I have already argued, freedom on this account i s self-control and self-direction 21 Cornford, The Republic, see i v . 441, iv. 443, iv. 444 where the references are to words like "control and subordination", "command" and "ruling" to express the relationship of the rational part of the soul over the appetitive. -24-t r a n s l a t e d as the con t r o l of the r a t i o n a l part of our nature over the other parts, Control i s seen here as a kind of power which expresses freedom; f o r a man who subjects h i s passions to the control of reason has the power over himself to do what he knows he ought to do; what he would want to do i f he were free of h i s i r r a t i o n a l passions so-that he could act i n h i s r e a l I n t e r e s t s . Real i n t e r e s t s , on t h i s account then, are always i d e n t i f i e d with freedom or the power to be r a t i o n a l . Tussman i s c l e a r l y i n t h i s t r a d i t i o n , f o r he believes that to have that kind of i n t e r n a l power i s to be f r e e . Though he only h i n t s at t h i s view of freedom i n Ob l i g a t i o n and the Body P o l i t i c , Freedom i s the f r u i t of the successful operation of the teaching power. Freedom i s power and i t , too, must be d e l i b e r a t e l y c u l t i v a t e d . ^ an attempt i s made to c l e a r l y develop the idea i n h i s next book -Experiment at Berkeley where he makes i t c l e a r that "the freedom that we c u l t i v a t e i s the freedom of mastery not impulse." For the mind to be free i s f o r i t to be able, t o have the power, to do what i t should do. That i s the freedom with which education i s concerned. I r a i s e t h i s point here because I want to argue that Tussman's s p e c i a l view of freedom, stemming from the influence of the P l a t o n i c theory of the soul, i s an important undercurrent run-ning throughout Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c ; f o r i t ' d i r e c t l y informs h i s theory of the public i n t e r e s t and therefore h i s theories 22 Tussman, Obligation, p. 6?. 23 Joseph Tussman, Experiment at Berkeley, Oxford U n i v e r s i t y Press, New York, 1969, p. 3*. -25-of membership and agency. Most specifically, i t informs his theory of the agent's role as a representative and therefore, his theory of p o l i t i c a l education; for the member and agent who f u l f i l l s his public obligations turns out to be that Platonic conception - the free man trained to act as his best s e l f . It i s my contention that i t i s a Platonic conception of character, of the 'best s e l f within us, that Tussman appeals to in the end as the arbiter between public and private interest. Behind his conception of the public interest i s the demand that i t must have reference to the 'real' needs and 'real' interests of the community; that turns out to be those needs and interests we dis-cover when we are acting in the capacity of our best selves: when our rational capacity i s in control of our instinctual desires and wants. Accordingly, for Tussman, private interest i s identified with our worst self, with our irrational, s e l f i s h passions, while public interest i s identified with our best self, with ourselves acting in and through our rational capacity. This i s , in the end, the only criterion of public interest that he gives us; but i t i s a criterion which forces him into a dilemma which only an author-itarian model of representation and education can resolve, I want to argue that he i s pushed into an unnecessary dilemma via this private public distinction, because his Platonic view of human nature i s too reductive, leaving out of account a wealth of psychological understanding that i s available to us now, which would under-cut such a narrow perspective on the nature of man. Let me try to point in another direction. CHAPTER I I * -26-F i r s t of a l l , one could object to the whole view of d i v i -ding human nature up into r i v a l camps of the r a t i o n a l l i f e and the inst i n c t u a l - e m o t i o n a l l i f e , and fu r t h e r c a t e g o r i z i n g them respec-t i v e l y as higher nature-lower nature, r e a l self-apparent s e l f , b e t t e r or worse part, or r e a l freedom as opposed to apparent freedom. What i s the basis f o r such a judgement except the p a r t i c u l a r (emotional?) preference of the jury? For instance, i f the s e l f i s made up of parts, i t seems l o g i c a l l y absurd that only one part i s to be regarded as the r e a l s e l f or the expressor of our r e a l wants. Are we to be l i e v e that a person's nature i s l i k e a p i c t u r e and a negative: only one of them i s r e a l , only over one part can ownership be claimed? On t h i s view "self-mastery" looks l i k e a d e n i a l of at l e a s t part of the s e l f , and thus a d e n i a l - not an a s s e r t i o n - of man's r e a l nature. The metaphor of the d i v i s i o n of the soul r e s u l t s i n a s c h i z o i d p i c t u r e of a f r e e man - and a depressing one, I r i s k the judgement that the s e l f i s not a human nature fra c t u r e d i n t o r e a l and apparent, or good and bad selves, nor has pr i v a t e i n t e r e s t got to do with our lower s e l f and p u b l i c i n t e r e s t with some kind of transformed higher s e l f . That i s a view which i s not at a l l c l e a r , and moreover, damaging to human p e r s o n a l i t y . The damage i s two-fold: i n the f i r s t place i t l i e s i n the creat i o n of a s p l i t within a person while ignoring the psyc-^ I am deeply indebted to E l l e n Tallman, the current c o - d i r e c t o r of The Resident Fellow Program at Cold Mountain I n s t i t u t e f o r valuable i n s i g h t s on t h i s whole sec t i o n . -27-hological implications of such a model of the s p l i t t i n g of the per-sonality, and secondly, i t l i e s in the reinforcement always of the need for outer restrictions; for outer forms of authority in order to rule human nature. It does this by somehow dividing us into these two natures: the primitive, passionate child who is immature and uncontrolled on the one hand, and the wise man - the rational adult on the other. One of the unhappy results of such a view is to give so l i t t l e encouragement or interest to the whole creative ranges. It is to see only those who are working for over-riding systems or In-stitutions, or set-ups of control as really acting as mature adults in the public interest. This results in the denial of the whole a r t i s t i c , creative world, where often the real antennae of the race is happening, for we learn as much from the i r r a t i o n a l , the unknown, the i l l o g i c a l , the uncharted, out of control places as we do from the rational: the already known and structured places. Philosophers l i k e Nietzsche, and since Freud, psychologists 24 l i k e Jung and Adler have moved more and more in the direction of seeing the s e l f , not as a human nature fractured into good and bad parts, seen respectively as the rational and the non-rational, but as the integrating force of an entire range of human capacities which includes both. 24 The l i s t is long, but I refer especially to the group called Humanistic Psychologists whose approach to human personality is in the 'ho l i s t i c ' tradition. People lik e Abraham Maslow, Fritz Perls, Wilhem Reich, Eric Fromm, R.D. Laing. -28-It i s impossible for me at this point to try to put forward their views i n either a hi s t o r i c a l or detailed, way, but a summary could be expressed in this way. Most of them talk about the harmony of the soul i n much the same terms as Plato did, but they d i f f e r as to how this harmony is to be achieved, and this difference i s a significant one. The 'holistic* view of man talks about achieving harmony through the model of integrating the various parts of the personality rather than through the model of balancing them. This important distinction leaves open to them the creative elements of human personality which are closed to the more negative model of balance, and therefore, leaves more scope for a person's 'private', emotional l i f e . Let me try to explain this difference. The notion of balancing the rational against the emotional-instinctual elements in our personality so as to achieve a harmony, assigns a necessarily negative role to reason; for the act of bal-ancing means you are constantly engaged in keeping elements from getting out of control. Reason must be used in a restrictive ca-pacity: always checking, weighing, judging, restricting the ex-pansion of each different part so as to keep everything within some sort of equal (balanced) relationship. By i t s very nature, the model of balancing involves the structure of polarities that must be juggled. The notion of-integration, on the other hand, acknowledges the importance of harmony in the soul, but does not see that harmony as possible through the rational part containing the other parts through balancing them. 'Holistic' psychologists argue that the -29-r e s u l t of that conception n e c e s s a r i l y creates a s i t u a t i o n where one sees oneself as being s p l i t into two sides, one side always obliged to check and c o n t r o l the other, and therefore, always looking down on the other, hating and f e a r i n g the.other as a r i v a l . But, the 'other' i s s t i l l ourselves and that means that we are involved i n hating and f e a r i n g ourselves; a course which can only l e a d to severe c o n f l i c t within our psyches. Thus, the model of balancing i s seen as merely the negative achievement of keeping peace between warring elements; the maintenance of the status quo or order. Though harmony i s achieved through this'process, the c o n f l i c t remains c o n t i n u a l l y raging within us. On t h i s view, the r e s u l t of that continuing c o n f l i c t works to s t u l t i f y a c t i o n rather than to free us to act; f o r the binding of energy involved i n the continual judging, and checking of one part of the s e l f against another i s experienced inescapably as repression.' Accordingly, they argue t h i s repression, while often very u s e f u l , i n e v i t a b l y r e s u l t s i n a. b l i n d , c o n t r o l l i n g self-righteousness, and the double edge of that: a despairing g u i l t and c o n f l i c t which works more to deaden the soul rather than free i t . They are s p e l l i n g out the psychological underpinnings of 'idealism'. Of course there i s much to be gained from t h i s r e p r e s s i v e process of balancing. Peace i s attained, with a l l i t s valuable t r a i n 25 The struggle, almost c l a s s i c a l l y P l a t o n i c , i s best revealed i n Freud's C i v i l i z a t i o n and I t s Discontents. Here, repression i s c e n t r a l and inescapable, with the gain and l o s s to c i v i l i z a t i o n never r e a l l y s e t t l e d . -30-of benefits: security, predictability, a measure of control or •power' over one's l i f e which is certainly an important kind of freedom. But there is an important loss of freedom as well; there is a continuing loss of newness, a drying up of joy and creativity which depend for their sources upon unbound energy and the risking of pushing into unknown regions. The 'holistic' psychological school then, sees harmony as the positive integration or interlocking of the self. Freedom on this account is achieved, not though the caging of the instinctual-passionate l i f e via checking and suppressing parts of the self, but ? 6 through the 'allowing' ' knowing, and in that way, having use of the emotional ranges. They argue for a kind of creative interplay between a l l parts, for they claim that you cannot integrate yourself into a harmonious whole unless you are first willing to see who you are. That means that we must see the totality of our nature, for the hiding of undesireable parts doesn't make them disappear: instead, they continue underground, affecting our behavior in sub-conscious ways that we have no access to and therefore no affective use -of; binding us to our nature, not freeing us and requiring more and more external controls to keep our outside behavior appropriate. 2 6 In putting forward the idea that the Platonic view sees freedom achieved through balance via rational suppression, and the 'holistic' view sees freedom achieved through integration via emotional 'allowing*, I'm tempted to use the metaphor of the paternal and maternal archetypes or modes of acting in the world, I mention i t here as a footnote, mainly because I haven't worked i t out as a full-blown theory, yet suggest It. might be illuminating for someone who i t strikes as intuitively appropriate here. By. this I mean that the Platonic view of the nature of man is essentially a paternal one - with emphasis upon external restraint, order, duty and obligation, while the. 'holistic' approach to the nature of man is essentially a maternal one - with emphasis upon allowing, accepting, ex-pressing inner development and growth. The distinction is an important one with relationship to different kinds of authority systems. -31-Specifically their argument looks l i k e t h i s : we can only have real control over ourselves when we understand ourselves. Since we can only understand ourselves once we see ourselves, and we can only see ourselves i f we allow ourselves, then we must permit the f u l l range of our behavior that we can look at i t and accept i t in order to have control of i t . Accordingly, the route to harmony l i e s through the expression of the emotional l i f e , not through balancing i t against the rational. To regard human nature i n this way i s not to say that there are no dangerous parts in our animal natures, nor that reason does not have an important place in i t . It would be madness to uphold a view of emotional expression that gives people permission to go around k i l l i n g others or indulging in similar destructive patterns of behavior. When i t i s argued that through too much emphasis on the rational element in our nature we have been stunting and re-pressing the source of our energy and creativity i n our emotional l i f e , no one i s arguing for a return to violence i n human aff a i r s , but for a different and more effective method or way to handle those anti-social drives in our personality. Both the Platonic and the 'holistic' views of the nature of man want to control the anti-social and destructive parts of our nature, but they go about control in a different way and for a different purpose. The Platonic view wants to control the irrational parts of our nature by the rational in order to achieve a kind of order or balance which allows the 'better s e l f of man to emerge: the truly rational man who is concerned with his 'real' interests. -32-The 'hol i s t i c ' approach wants to bring about a kind of control of our emotions as well, but through 'allowing' a f u l l range of expression of that emotional l i f e in order to build on i t , move from i t so as to extend and challenge ranges in a person's psyche that he can then move into. This kind of control i s more often expressed as the control of our emotions i n order to achieve inner development or 'growth' so that a person can move into previously unknown ranges of experience which enrich his l i f e . In this sense, the Platonic view i s reductive, the 'holi s t i c ' i s more expansive. But, just as the rational understanding, the analytic mode, does very l i t t l e towards change i n a person's l i f e because i t doesn't touch the emotional levels of 'knowing' which permeate the whole being of a person, so too does just being able to fee l , know one's emotions, having catharsis etc., by i t s e l f do very l i t t l e . So the problem remains of how to bind or inter-lock different modes of being in the world. The 'holistic' approach maintains that the solution is not a matter of swinging back and forth between passion and reason or good and bad parts of the se l f for the ultimate result of that approach can only be suppresion and outward forms of control. Their view is weakest at this point; that i s , i t doesn't yet have a really satisfactory theory of the creative interplay between the emotions with reason that explains this kind of integrative growth process. That i s why in the attempt to describe the process, they often get thrown back into descriptions that look very much -33-l i k e the Platonic conception of balancing different parts of the soul, or else retreat into subjective rambling that has more of a mystical tone than an analytic one. They use words to describe the process lik e 'experienced knowledge* or 'experiential learning*, and what i s behind this kind of language i s precisely that point: that the process cannot be 'gotten' through the intellect alone, but i s more l i k e a click i n awareness, involving a l l the layers and centers of knowledge. The kind of inner control brought about through the con-stant awareness of yourself i s dependent upon this different kind of integrative knowledge of oneself, and is clearly i n another 27 tradition from the Platonic sense of control brought about through balance. Furthermore, i t has important implications for a theory of freedom in relation to authority. I have spent some time in this paper attempting to uncover the difference because the rest of my argument depends upon seeing the distinction between a system of authority which i s based upon an integrative rather than a balancing model of human nature. Specifically, the Platonic view provides the psychological underpinnings for a theory of authoritarianism, while the ' h o l i s t i c ' approach does the same job for a theory of individualism, closely related to our ordinary understanding of the notion of freedom within a democracy; for unless one understands and takes responsi-b i l i t y for what one does in the world, there i s no way to change 27 Though I suspect i t i s very close to the Socratic view. -34-outside behavior without increasing external control. Accordingly, the implications of the 'ho l i s t i c ' model of integration has bearing on Tussman's theory of the relationship of private interests, seen as one's emotional-instinctual l i f e , and public interest, seen as one's rational l i f e . It i s Tussman's lack of any psychological theory of individuality or human growth which I find most d i f f i c u l t i n his account of obligation and the public interest in a democracy. Because of his Platonic bias, he seems to have no room for the passions in public l i f e (outside of loyalty), for he sees them as belonging almost solely to private l i f e . That i s , he doesn't seem to have any relationship for these emotional ranges of interests to the public interest, except one of suppression. In short, he i s lacking any positive theory of the relationship of a theory of Individualism to a theory of public purpose, which any serious attempt to explain the relationship of the ruled to the ruler in a democracy must be involved i n . Consequently his theory of representation and the theory of education which flows from i t suffer f r o m this lack. CHAPTER III -35-I have argued i n the last section that Tussman's view of the public interest i s a limited one because of i t s Platonic base, nevertheless i t i s important to see the weight of the problem, f i r s t encountered there, that drives his theory of representation. In talking about the public interest, Tussman's appeal to the distinc-tion between real and apparent interests i s certainly an appropriate one. The idea that there can be real needs as distinguished from apparent wants, and that freedom i s the realization of the former through the restraint of the latter, rests on the assumption that one can harm oneself, or hurt oneself, defeat one's own deep-rooted and long range interests unknowingly or even unwillingly. Thus we speak of being a "slave to passion" or "enslaved" by ignorance. This i s not such a strange assumption i f we look around us at how democracy actually works much of the time. We know very well that there are objects or experiences that we want that turn out to be destructive for us. We know very well that our selfish pursuit of what we i n i t i a l l y see as our i n t e r e s t , often turns out to be the opposite of what we would have wanted i f we had only known better. Even more often, we see that the maximization of everyone pursuing their own individual Interest a l l the time can destroy the very fabric of a democratic l i f e i f that means as a body p o l i t i c we value security, peace, justice and equality as much as we do our individualism. We may want to drive bigger and faster cars, but i f we really understand the consequences of doing so, we might see that i t i s the worst solution to our transportation problem. We may want to develop industry in order to produce more and more goods, thus satisfying our desire for a higher standard of l i v i n g ; yet, that may not be in our real interest i n view of the environmental price that we, or future generations w i l l have to pay. It may be that i t is both a natural and instinctual need for human beings to procreate their own kind, and yet i t may be the case that i t i s not in our best interest to allow uncontrolled procreation i f we are to protect the earth from the problems of over-population. A l l of these very real problems which face us as members of a democratic body p o l i t i c involved in determining the public interest, force us to acknowledge that the distinction appealed to between real and apparent interest, or between need and want, is not an unimportant one. That i f the public interest i s to have any meaning at a l l with regards to this distinction, i t must be concerned with real interests and real needs. The problem then, i s not the recognition of the distinc-tion and the p l a u s i b i l i t y of the assumption i t rests on, for they are valid, but the question as to what implications are to be drawn from i t . What i s going to be done about this fact of l i f e ? How is a community going to handle this distinction in the process of arriving at the public interest? Are we going to give the power to someone to make these kind of public distinctions which we -37-w i l l accept as binding upon us, even against our own judgement; or are we going to allow the vast majority of people to make their own decisions on these issues, whatever the outcome? Tussman - following Plato - has drawn his own implications from this distinction for a theory of government, ' ' As I have argued, Plato saw that only the 'best s e l f could determine what was in the real or public interest of the individual, and because he despaired of the vast majority of human beings ever being able to operate out of a conception of their 'best s e l f , he found i t necessary to develop a special class of 'best selves' who were to be set over the rest of the population to rule them in the 28 public interest; with their consent, but not with their voice, Tussman, because of his commitment to a democratic form of government, or at least, because he i s writing out of the democratic context, must i n i t i a l l y appeal to that 'best s e l f which resides i n every member of the body p o l i t i c ; but i n fact, we find that he, li k e Plato, acknowledges important differences between people that are important to his concept of ruling, particularly i n the capacity of rational judgement, He cannot escape the observation that a l l are not f i t to govern i n the public interest: To make a l l men good and wise seems beyond hope. ...Even i f i t i s assumed that a l l men have latent . . capacity in this direction, there are some who seem to be 'naturals 1 28 Cornford, The Republic, iv, kjl. Here Plato establishes the consent of the governed as a condition of authority. This point i s often missed. 29 Tussman, Obligation, p. 100. -38-It i s to these 'naturals' that Tussman wants to rely on in the' end to safeguard the search for the public interest in l i e u of any clear c r i t e r i a . This is what he means when he says that "we must grope our way back to the Republic and join Plato in the search for the guardian type, for the agent who by endowment and 30 the training of mind and character can play the public role," So, i t is not surprising to find as the book moves from a consideration of membership to agency that he, l i k e Plato, r e l i e s more and more on the development of a special class of people to rule in the public interest: the agent who is to man the democratic tribunal against the wishes, wants and desires of the majority of the members i f need be. The agent who through education and character i s able to make those kind of tough public distinctions that are required echoes the Platonic notion of the 'best s e l f : "the public 31 agent had better be us at our best, not at our most typical," What distinguishes Tussman from Plato is only a thin thread at this point; that thread i s Tussman hanging onto the elective 32 process. If the members of the body p o l i t i c can be induced to vote for this special class of people as their representatives, and i f they w i l l understand the notion of representation to mean that the agent is to represent them "at their best", against their 33 ordinary selves, J then democracy and Plato can be reconciled at 30 Tussman, Obligation, p. 99. 31 Ibid,, p. 62. 32 That, and his lack of a theory of knowledge, i t s nature, how i t is attained etc. 33 Tussman, Obligation, p. 62, the f u l l quote goes: "I risk the judgement that the conception of the representative body as a representative sample is a f u t i l e and fatal one. The representative, the public agent, had better be us at our best, not at our most typical." - 3 9 -l a s t . Tussman can maintain an essentially Platonic conception of government within a democratic framework and in so doing, can make sense of both. There are obvious d i f f i c u l t i e s with the attempt, fascina-ting and powerful as i t i s . The most serious objection is that his attempt to reconcile Plato and democratic theory involves some very unfamiliar notions about democracy; specifically, a special notion of representation, and with that, a strained view of p o l i t i c a l freedom. It can be argued that these special notions are very different from our ordinary understanding of a theory of democracy, and, however sensible, feel strange in this context. In fact, they seem closer to an authoritarian system of government - a dilemma Tussman seems pushed into because he sees no alternative to an essentially Platonic view of the public interest. Let us look at his theory of representation more closely. I want to argue f i r s t , that Tussman's model of representa-tion involves a real dichotomy between private and public interest seen respectively as the emotional and rational l i f e , and though i t i s by no means obvious that this model does violence to the notion of freedom he started with, i t certainly bends i t around quite a b i t . Secondly, I'd l i k e to point out the implications of such a dichotomy between private and public interest for a theory of authority. Thirdly, I want to argue that the model of integra-tion rather than that of balance, as outlined in the last section, -40-provides at l e a s t one pos s i b l e a l t e r n a t i v e to Tussman's theory of representation. F i n a l l y , before turning to the next s e c t i o n on education, I want to consider Tussman's theory of representation i n r e l a t i o n s h i p to some ordinary conceptions of democratic theory, I begin then with a consideration of Tussman's model of• representation and the concept of p o l i t i c a l freedom. Tussman begins t a l k i n g about a theory of representation by introducing two d i f f e r e n t senses of representative government: on the one hand, there i s the sense that the agent i s to represent the views of the majority of people who have elected him to be t h e i r delegate; on the other, i s the famous Burkean model of the a,gent who i s to be elected to represent h i s elec t o r a t e as an i n d i v i d u a l judge of what he thinks i s the best p o l i c y . Tussman goes on to make the point that these two d i f f e r e n t senses of the r o l e of a representative i n a democracy are r e f l e c t e d i n two p a r a l l e l conceptions of what a representative body i s sup-posed to be: On the one hand, i t s representativeness i s thought to be that of a 'sample'; a l e g i s l a t u r e i s repre-sentative when I t contains within i t s e l f the same elements, i n the sa.me proportion, as are found i n the body p o l i t i c at large....On the other hand there s t i l l l i n g e r s the conception of representative gov-ernment as a. form of e l e c t i v e a r i s t o c r a c y . And on t h i s view we want to be represented by our best, our wisest and f a i r e s t . The representative body should be a cream not a homogenized sample,^ 35 I have already discussed what view he supports. He i s committed to a theory of representation that turns out to be an 34 Tussman, Obligation, p. 61-62. 35 See p. 38 of t h i s paper. -41-"elected aristocracy" because of the importance of public interest as a defining characteristic of a body p o l i t i c , and because of his view of achieving that purpose only through the character or the 'best s e l f of the representative agent. He cannot permit a theory of representation wherein the agent merely takes orders from his electorate for that would be l i k e having the worst s e l f — the private interests of the members — rule the 'best s e l f — the public interest arrived at through reason and deliberation. The agent, so Tussman argues, must be free to deliberate, to discover the public interest. One of the d i f f i c u l t i e s with this view i s that we get incredibly twisted up in a maze which does strange things to the notion of p o l i t i c a l freedom. Tussman has defined p o l i t i c a l freedom in his f i r s t chapter as "the freedom under law" and says that freedom in this sense "does not turn on the absence of law but on 3 7 whether the law i s "self-imposed." That is one of the reasons that only the model of a voluntary group based upon agreement w i l l adequately f i t this necessary condition of freedom as defining a body p o l i t i c . But i t turns out to be a tricky business trying to square this condition of p o l i t i c a l freedom, defined as "self-imposed law", with his theory of representation. He can actually do it,-but the thread that holds i t a l l together i s very thin indeed, and one wonders how much of an ordinary sense of "self-imposed" gets lost or distorted along the way. 36 Tussman, Obligation, p. 8, 37 Ibjd., p. 9. -42 -Before getting into a discussion of that, l e t me pause here to make a minor point with regard to the relationship between freedom and law. Tussman says in the f i r s t chapter: ...to the extent that law i s a system of agreements to which I am a party, "being under law' does not conflict with 'being free' unless', indeed, I consider myself not free when I do what I have agreed or consented to do.^g I find this view just false; for 'being under law' often does con-f l i c t with 'being free'; at least, we often feel less free when we obey law no matter how beneficial we agree i t s effects are. Tussman is pretty much echoing the Platonic-Rousseauian argument about freedom that I have mentioned earlier; where freedom i s seen as the power or the active capacity to do something that you w i l l — that you know you 'ought' to do. The problem with this tradition in this context of p o l i t i c a l freedom i s that i t ignores for the most part another tradition of freedom which i s generally expressed as the absence of restraints upon our actions. According to this tradition, freedom can only be FROM restraint and i t i s therefore a contradiction to talk about people being made free BY M E A N S of restraint. This lat t e r tradition does, I think, convey a more satis-fying descriptive sense of the way we use the word freedom; one that f i t s into our experiential sense of the relationship between freedom and law. For when you have laws or rules which you have agreed to as the basis of an authority structure, there are s t i l l certain 38 Tussman, Obligation, p. 9. freedoms lost as well as certain freedoms gained. The point is that i f we re-define the notion of freedom so that there i s no conceptual conflict involved in i t s relationship to law, then we have to deny the r e a l i t y of our internal experience: that there really are choices one has to make with regard to areas of freedom, and that there i s a resulting feeling of loss or gain in freedom which we experience due to those choices. That Tussman i s aware of this conflict becomes apparent later on when he is discussing the relationship of the subordination required by membership to p o l i t i c a l freedom, and remarks that "we are frequently reminded that the achievement, and preservation of order exacts i t s price in freedom, that some freedom must be given up, that we must carefully and constantly balance the demands of these unfor-tunately competing goods. But then he puts forward two arguments which are an attempt to cancel out that "reminder". F i r s t he asks i f "we ought to consider whether i t (law) does not in fact so increase the options and p o s s i b i l i t i e s open to us that on any reasonable assessment i t increases rather than diminishes the 40 opportunity or power 'to do as one l i k e s , ' " I have no argument with the idea that authority which regulates our a c t i v i t i e s in many instances increases our freedom to do what we want. In effect, what I c a l l 'regulative authority' makes possible the condition of equal freedom for i t protects individuals and groups by enforcing prohibitions against the free exercise of arbitrary desires, where those actions 39 Tussman, Obligation, p. 51. 40 Ibid., p. 6 l , brackets mine. It is interesting that in order to make this point, Tussman adopts the other tradition of freedom that he tends to argue against for the most part: that i s , freedom seen as the power 'to do as one likes', not as what 'one ought to do'. would interfere with the similar freedom of other members of the group. On this view then, quite rightly, regulative authority increases rather than diminishes the freedom to do as one consciously chooses; i t makes real rather than formal freedom possible. If we did not have t r a f f i c rules and restrictions, no one would have the freedom to drive in any significant sense; and i f we did not have the intervention and regulation of food inspectors and standards of health safety, no one would have the same freedom to eat. But i n each of these examples, there are also actions that we are not free to do, and when we look at the relationship of freedom to authority, we are always balancing just this gain of one kind of freedom against the loss of another. To acknowledge then that there can be a relationship between freedom and authority which increases our freedom i s one thing; but to claim that there i s always this relationship, or that there i s never a conflict between freedom and self-imposed law, i s , as I have claimed - to be blind to the binding nature of authority as well as the freeing; i t i s to make an important point without seeing the relationship of freedom to authority i n i t s t o t a l i t y . To return now to my major consideration, I take up Tussman's second argument concerning p o l i t i c a l freedom and i t s relationship to law to examine what sense he makes of "self-imposed law" — the de-fining characteristic of p o l i t i c a l freedom within a body p o l i t i c . He says here: " l e t us consider freedom as 'governing oneself'"^"1" and then slides Into the bald assertion almost immediately that 'governing oneself i s : ...not quite the same thing as 'doing as one l i k e s * ; i t rests on a different conception of the s e l f and finds expression in Rousseau's 'The mere Impulse of appetite i s slavery, while obedience to a law which we prescribe to ourselves is l i b e r t y , ' ^ Or again, shortly on: On this view....we are free when we are self-governing, making and following our own rules.^ It looks as though he i s saying that p o l i t i c a l freedom consists simply i n obeying the laws that we make ourselves, S t i l l , in the f i r s t quotation he talks about a "different conception of the s e l f " and sees 'governing oneself as not "doing as one l i k e s , " It i s my contention that these Platonic notions are implicit in his conception of making laws; that they serve as c r i t e r i a for making laws in the public interest, for the concept of a 'best s e l f which makes laws in the public interest i s necessary to the argument of this whole section on representation. It i s necessary to Tussman's argument because, even i f he succeeds in showing that the complex notion of 'delegation' or representation can be interpreted as "making and following our own rules", he s t i l l needs the concept of a 'best s e l f in order to justify stretching this interpretation of "self-imposed law" further to include the notion of a representa-tive agent who i s not to reflect his electors, but to rule i n their place. 41 Tussman, Obligation, p. 52. 42 Loc. c i t . 43 Ibid., p. 53. -46-One could argue that this attempt to reconcile a theory of p o l i t i c a l freedom as "making and following our own rules" with a Platonic theory of representation stretches the sense of the former theory a b i t too far; for how free can a member really be when, not only i s he one step removed from making laws because he must delegate that power, but in addition, the role of his delegate is to essentially govern for him - ignoring, i f need be, what he may see as his private interests, The "necessary relationship between membership and 'participation' which, since Rousseau at least, has made ' p o l i t i c a l 44 freedom' and 'democracy' virtu a l l y synonymous", on Tussman's account, seems to fade almost into a haze. Participation gets reduced to the 45 right to "consent to being governed without our further consent", and without any apparent limits on the kind of laws the agent may feel are necessary. Tussman is aware of this dilemma for he says that Rousseau thought that a single delegation of the thread of participation "snapped" the relationship to freedom. But not only does he defend as inevitable the delegation of power to representatives and their inevitable delegation i n turn to committees and bureaucracies, he also argues for this one further step of delegation: the delegation of law-making to the elected representative agent alone. In the end, his answer to this very real problem of making sense of p o l i t i c a l freedom within a representative democracy as he has defined i t i s only the curious statement that: 44 Tussman, Obligation, p. 5^ . 45 Ibid., p. 53, Reducing "members" very close to the role of Plato's artisans. -47-But the free citizen w i l l refuse to abdicate, ...Only by dint of ceaseless devotion to the task of keeping the delicate structure of con-sent, participation and authority in good repair can we save the claim of self-government from being a bitter mockery. But isn't his own demand that the representative agent be free to pursue the public interest as distinct from the private interests or wishes of the members who elected him, a demand for abdication by the members of their rule-making function? Perhaps we should look more closely at the relationship he proposes between the member and his elected agent. The notion underlying most of the d i f f i c u l t y in understanding the relationship between the member and his elected representative i s , of course, that of the public interest. For so long as Tussman "(1) sees the public interest as the fundamental concern of a body p o l i t i c , and (2) so long as he sees that public interest as separate from private interest (or even in opposition to i t ) , only realizable through the development of our best, most rational, objective self against our worst, most s e l f i s h , individual self, and (3) so long as he sees that the ordinary member is incapable of performing his public function on this level, but some responsible members - best suited by character and training can; then i t is an obvious con-clusion that i f we wish to achieve the public interest we must set these specially s k i l l e d guardians to rule over us. 46 Tussman, Obligation, p. 56. -48-If we want to hold onto some other notion of representa-tion in a democracy, then i t i s necessary to deal with this sticky question of the public interest again, for i f Tussman's assumptions are a l l valid, then we are pretty much stuck with his conclusion. Let me try to drive a wedge into his theory of representa-tion with the idea that the public interest has, or should have a more direct relationship to private interest than Tussman i s pre-pared to acknowledge. He inevitably gets caught in a representative model which encourages a disastrous dichotomy between private and public interest precisely because he regards the agent as there to, in some sense, transcend or control private interests instead of to unite or integrate them into the public interest. Tussman's representative model works in this way very simmilarly to the Platonic model of balance within the soul which encourages a dichotomy between reason and passion. As I have a l -ready argued, in the balancing model of the se l f , once you assign reason the role of balancer, reason and passion are immediately set in opposition to each other, thus generating a conflict which is self-verifying; for once you postulate that kind of dichotomy, the different parts are bound to develop in independent ways that play off against each other and therefore always conflict with each other. The inevitable result of such a situation i s more and more control being exerted by the rational element and a starving of the instinctual-emotional l i f e . -49-The same thing happens here in Tussman's theory of repre-sentation, only on two levels. If you do set-up the guardian-agents to define a public interest which i s seen as separate, not reducible to private interest, then not only i s there- set in motion this dichotomy between public and private interest, but because of Tussman's Platonic leanings, the private i s identified with the emotional l i f e and the public with the rational. The role of the agent then becomes the role of the balancer between reason and passion; between the public and private l i f e . There are several consequences following from such a view of representation that I find troubling. F i r s t of a l l , because Tussman takes the hard line that there i s on the one hand the public interest, and on the other there are a l l these s e l f i s h private interests, and believes that one i s not reducible into the other, private and public interest w i l l inevitably develop along separate, conflicting paths. Therefore the public agent role vis a vis private interest can only be a controlling one. There i s no way around the agents assuming an authoritarian or oppressor role whenever public and private interest conflict, for they are not supposed to be in charge of uniting private interests, or working on integrating them; they are supposed to be in charge of transcending them. It is their duty to oppose the private interests of individual members and over-ride them in the 'real' interests of the community, as they see them. -50-Secondly, and consequently, there i s a shift in the sense of p o l i t i c a l freedom Tussman has been talking about, for suddenly "making and obeying your, own laws" gets translated into choosing representatives who are in charge of t e l l i n g members things that they are either not competent to decide, or do not see, or cannot get themselves to do without outside authority. What Tussman i s arguing for here i s the authorization of a certain kind of control: the control of reason over the passions, or the subordination of private interest to the public interest. If we accept the role of Tussman's agent as a balancer between our reason and our passions so as to emerge with public interest, then i t might very well make sense for an adult member to consent to having someone li k e that placed i n authority over him — j u s t as on Plato's account a man consents as an autonomous agent to assigning his reason a balancing role in his own psyche. But, I want to argue that though there is nothing i l l o g i c a l about an adult member assigning certain powers to an agent without losing his autonomy, the kind of power and the kind of control he assigns i s crucial to that sense of autonomy. Specifically, I would like to point out that Tussman's model exacts a very heavy price in our ordinary conception of autonomy or p o l i t i c a l freedom; a price, I shall argue later, that i s not necessary to the maintenance of a sensible notion of the public interest. -51-Thirdly, with Tussman's model of representation, there seems to be some confusion, i f not an outright paradox generated in trying to understand the role of the member seen i n this new lig h t . It appears at f i r s t glance that the member i s not really to be concerned, or i s not able to be concerned with the public interest in the same way as the agent i s ; for i f he were able to determine what i s in the public interest, then why wouldn't the role of the representative agent be to reflect the judgement of the member or the majority of members - at least on crucial issues? Now there i s nothing absurd about' the contention that most members, most of the time are incapable of getting beyond their private interests and therefore need a responsible agent to make important decisions for them, but i f this i s the case, as Tussman suggests, we are s t i l l l e f t with the problem of how they are going to get beyond their private interests i n electing a representative, Plato didn't even bother with this problem; he made sure that the ordinary citizen had nothing to do with electing anybody to office. M i l l , coming out of mixture of aristocratic and democratic theory, solved a similar d i f f i c u l t y by relying on some vague reference to the power of "respect"; the bel i e f that the individual member could be trusted to vote for his 'betters' out of a kind of 'reverence'. But the kind of democratic body p o l i t i c that Tussman i s writing about involves a complex system of constituencies, parties and platforms, and has no guaranteed theory of knowledge to validate the d i f f i c u l t decision processes. -52-This means that at each election period, the individual member i s going to be directly confronted with the problem of the public interest i f , and when, he must choose between r i v a l candidates and r i v a l belief systems. It won't do at this point to say "vote for the best man", for that decision as to who i s the best man i s going to depend upon how you assess what each man stands for who i s run-ning for office; how you assess what he believes in, and how he sees the nature of the problems affecting the body p o l i t i c . So no matter how much we may despair of the majority of members having the capacity to act i n the public interest, s t i l l , even on this seemingly minimal of ruling tasks — the election of the representative agent, they are necessarily confronted with the problem of deciding what i s in the public interest. The next question i s then, "How does the member of a con-stituency go about deciding what the public interest i s ? " Do they know what i t is beforehand and simply try to match .each candidate to some objective c r i t e r i a they, or some of them have? Or does the public interest emerge out of debate, consideration or arguments and deliberation? I cannot see how i t can be the former case, i f we are to hold onto any meaningful sense of the public interest, That i s , I cannot see how the public interest can be known beforehand unless we are merely referring to vague generalities which no one would -53-disagrees with, l i k e : the public interest i s always concerned with the needs of the community, with health, transportation, survival, welfare etc. But i f that i s a l l we mean by the public interest then we just have to push the problem to another level; we have to ask what the means are by which these agreed upon public interests can be brought about. We are s t i l l confronted with the problem of trying to determine what methods are in the public interest to best accomplish what i s in the 'objective' public interest - and these methods or means certainly can't be known beforehand. So we are back to the second proposition: the public interest or i t s means can only be determined after discussion, deliberation and argument. If this i s the case, where does an individual member begin to consider the public interest? What does he start with to argue over. Surely i t must be a collection of private and individual interests. That i s , one can accept a criterion of public interest which i s different from a simple collection of private interests — and also oblige both member and agent to do so as well, but surely the public interest starts f i r s t from this collection; for i t cannot be unrelated to somebody's interest. Tussman i s not blind to this relationship i n a democracy between a person's private interests and the public interest. He acknowledges i t by putting forward a 'claiming' criterion which converts private interest into public interest. He argues that that process of transforming private interests into public interests involves the understanding of certain rational structures i n our system; structures, or standards which are d i f f i c u l t to spe l l out and are not understood intu i t i v e l y by a l l those engaged in the process. These structures involve crucial concepts lik e 'making a claim', 'having a good argument', the relationship of claims to evidence, the notions or reasoning which include their own logical c r i t e r i a . Tussman argues that there must be a certain class of claims which may begin as a private expression of a f e l t want, but in order to be legitimately considered as a public expression of a rational need, must satisfy rational structures of argument. He argues that what we are more often engaged in when determining what the public interest i s , i s trying to assess whether a private interest can pass a l l of these tests; can f i t within these structures of a 'claim'. To the extent that Tussman i s engaged in analyzing the distinction between want and claim and showing how the former must be converted into the lat t e r as a necessary condition of the public interest, he deserves explicit mention; his analysis is clear and enlightening on this score. But I want to argue that this necessary condition Is only a minimal one in trying to get at the relationship between private and public interest, and not really the main or interesting problem we encounter with regard to deter-mining the public interest. He never really talks about how we can -55-go about determining the public i n t e r e s t out of a welter of leg i t i m a t e claims; f o r what a c t u a l l y seems to be at the centre of the problem of the p u b l i c i n t e r e s t i s the question of how you . discriminate between leg i t i m a t e public i n t e r e s t s , how you assign p r i o r i t i e s etc. The dilemma most of the time i s not r e a l l y between p r i -vate i n t e r e s t narrowly conceived as passion or want, and a p u b l i c i n t e r e s t i d e n t i f i e d with reason, but over l e g i t i m a t e 'claims' of d i f f e r e n t methods or p o s s i b i l i t i e s of achieving some agreed upon pub l i c good, I would suggest that most p u b l i c p o l i c y , i f not reducible to the coalescing of p r i v a t e and p u b l i c i n t e r e s t i n the end, then i s at l e a s t i n a middle realm where p r i v a t e i n t e r e s t s are not i r r e l e v a n t , f o r they give the shape to p u b l i c issues. That i s , what people come to see as t h e i r i n t e r e s t s i n terms of l i v i n g s t y l e , health, s e c u r i t y , and the values that they uphold, are important to p u b l i c issues and there ought to be some remarks by Tussman on the kinds of things which would represent l e g i t i m a t e solutions f o r c o l l e c t i o n s of le g i t i m a t e claims. He never seems to get to t h i s l e v e l i n the d i s c u s s i o n however, because he i s working out of h i s dilemma between the emotional and r a t i o n a l l i f e almost a l l the time, but even on t h i s l e v e l he i s involved i n a serious problem. I f i t i s true that the p u b l i c i n t e r e s t requires a t r a i n i n g and experience i n the r a t i o n a l acts of 'claiming' or argument, -56-and i f i t i s true that the individual member must be involved in this process i n order to select a representative-agent who w i l l perform this function for him, then either the member i s capable of such an enterprise or he i s not. I f he i s not, how are we going to get the 'best' agents elected, and i f he i s capable, then how can Tussman justify having a representative agent that doesn't represent him? Of course, there can be several justifications for having a model of representation l i k e the one Tussman puts forward, but he owes us some more c l a r i f i c a t i o n on this score. It won't do to merely talk about the necessity of rational control of 'the best* over the irra t i o n a l 'rest' and see the agent as the balancing voice of reason. The member, i t seems, must also be the voice of reason on occasion, and that fact must have some bearing on the authority relationship between agent and member, Let me suggest at this point an alternative model of representation in the same way as I have suggested an alternative model of the relationship between parts of the soul. I want to put forward a model of the representative-agent that sees his guardian role as more of an integrator of private interests rather than as a balancer between reason and passion. According to this model there is a legitimate sense of public interest which doesn't have to create an adversary relationship between private and public interest because public interest can be shown to emerge -57-from private interest; therefore, private interest can at every stage be a legitimate reference point for voters and agents alike. This alternative view of the agent's role as a representa-47 tive i s best expressed by Saul Alinsky in Reveille for Radicals. . His basic starting point is that the people's private interests are f i n a l , though of course he doesn't settle for those interests as they exist, but tries to change them. The important point is the way his agent goes about changing those private interests. The agent i s seen here as a f a c i l i t a t o r who i s there to aid in a transition, not by transcending private interests through t e l l i n g people what the public interest i s , but by changing those private interests through actually putting people in different situations where their private interests have a chance to change, Alinsky's point- i s quite simple: the agent takes the private interests of the community as they exist and that i s his reference point from then on; he accepts the fact that the member's approval or disapproval i s always going to be couched in terms of their private interests. The reason that he can s t i l l get away with claiming to be advancing a sense of community or public interest i s because the changes that he brings about wi l l lead the members to change their private interests b i t by b i t . However, i f those private interests don't change, then what the agent i s attempting to do i s not a legitimate public interest. According to this model then, the public interest i s directly connected to private interest, though not necessarily the private interests that actually exist at any given time and place. 4-7 Saul Alinsky, Reveille for Radicals, Vintage Books, New York, lQoQ. The great value of this model is that i t eliminates the extrem dichotomy that Tussman gets into. In Tussman's model, the representative, because of the negative relationship of private interest to public interest is forced into an oppressor or author-itarian role sometimes, particularly when private and public interest conflict and subordination is required. The Alinsky model makes the agent a servant rather than a master (as in the Tussman model), but not a servant of just present private interests which allows him an escape from the equally blinding 'pluralist' approach to public interest that Tussman i s so rightly concerned with. What is happening in the Alinsky model is that the agent is taking private interests and transforming them, not by opposing them as i n the case of Tussman's guardian-agent, but by f a c i l i t a -ting the change through the person's self-interest. In other words, one's private interest i s not only an inevitable reference point, but a desirable one. Many exponents and supporters of People's Organiza-tions b i t t e r l y denounce self-interest as one of the main obstacles that must be crushed i f people ar-e to be organized into a co-operative fellowship. Both liberals and organizers have attributed the failure of their attempts to the rampant s p i r i t of i n d i v i -dualism and selfishness. These organizers have never appreciated that many seeming obstacles can be u t i l i z e d to great advantage. The fact i s that self-interest can be a most potent weapon in the development of co-operation and identification of the group welfare as being of greater importance than personal welfare,^ 48 Saul Alinsky, Reveille for.Radicals, p. 94, -59-To see the agent's role in this alternative context i s , as I have said, to see his.task as more of a f a c i l i t a t o r or inte-grator than a balancer or judge; he becomes an advocate-guardian more than a paternal-guardian. By forcing the representative to pay attention to private interests, you force him into a l l kinds of non-authoritarian ways of changing those private interests, either through educating the public, or putting them into situa-tions which make them directly experience a transformation of their private interests. Alinsky provides various examples of 49 the ways in which this has been, and can be done successfully, I could, of course, try to extend this alternative model of representation to try to show that this i s an ideal form of representation, or the only form of representation that makes sense within the structure of a democratic body p o l i t i c , but I don't wish to get into that kind of argument here. A l l I mean to do i s to show that there are alternative conceptions of representation and the relationship of private to public interest, and the Interesting thing about Tussman's argument i s that he doesn't see that there are and consequently, i s stuck in his formulation of the dilemma. His dilemma i s to see that either you have these private interests which are quarrelsome, factional and chaotic in the l i f e of the body p o l i t i c , or you have order founded on a conception of the public interest which only a few specially'gifted and trained agents can appreciate and impose. But we see with his theory of representation (which i s where he f i r s t seems driven to formulate 49 Saul Alinsky, Reveille for Radicals, pp. 95-100, pp. 110-116, Closer to home, a positive example would be medicare, a negative one the B.C. Auto-Plan Insurance scheme. -60-th is dilemma and bring i t home to us, transforming the concept of freedom in the process) that this dilemma i s not really necessary. At least he owes us much more argument against alternative models for there is. at least one alternative which, seems to be a l e g i t i -mate contender for a theory of representation. Let me try to c l a r i f y my position at this point. I am arguing that Tussman isn't wrong in principle; that i s , he isn't wrong in wanting agents to defend or create something that goes beyond existing Individual private interest, but everything depends upon how, and how far the public interest goes beyond private interest, just as in the model of the theory of the soul, every-thing depends upon how, and how far reason goes beyond the passions i n control. Accordingly, i t does make sense for autonomous adult members to appoint a guardian-agent of some kind, but you have to distinguish the right kind of guardian from the wrong kind, for the consequences are markedly difference in each case depending upon which view you have. Tussman's guardian involves him in a paradox - not because he i s a guardian, but because he is the kind of guardian he i s . That i s , i t i s not true that an autonomous adult member cannot take on the authority of a guardian-agent, but i t seems to be true that an adult cannot take on a guardian-agent of Tussman's kind precisely because Tussman is f a i r l y extreme in his emphasis on the dichotomy between reason and passion which would necessitate an authoritarian kind of guardian. -61-It would certainly make more sense for an adult to accept some kind of guardian who' would work with him in an integrative way than i t would be to accept a guardian who would see his role of balancing private and public interest in such a way that whatever the sum of the balancing process i s , i t is going to stand in op-position to private interest most of the time, necessitating an oppressive kind of authority. Furthermore Tussman i s committed to dealing with f u l l y autonomous adults via his theory of membership, particularly his theory of consent. In the chapter on membership Tussman goes to great lengths to argue that the notion of consent which is at the heart of the model of a voluntary association "must be voluntary, not unconscious or accidental. That is the act can only be properly taken as 'consent' i f i t i s done 'knowingly', i f i t is understood by the one performing the act that his action involves his acceptance of the obliga-tion of membership. This condition seems to me so crucial that, in fact, i t may even override the force of an explicit verbal expression of consent. That is why we take the child's pledge l i g h t l y . He says the magic words, but he does not know quite what he i s saying. It is form without substance.^ This is so because the necessary 'knowing' quality of consenting to membership — the acceptance of the obligations and the roles implied plus the understanding of the rights received — r e q u i r e s a stage of mental development and a sophistication of awareness 50 Tussman, Obligation, p. 36. 51 Loc. c i t . and commitment that only an autonomous 'adult' intelligence can possibly achieve, For to see yourself as a full-fledged member of the body p o l i t i c i n the same sense that Tussman speaks about i s more than just consent; i t i s an affirmation of oneself as a responsible, rational, p o l i t i c a l being. And Tussman needs just this sense of consent i f he i s to hang onto any meaningful account of p o l i t i c a l freedom under law. But, i f this i s the case, Tussman's member i s hardly going to elect an agent of his kind, My suspicion is that Tussman has a much narrower view of adulthood than I would want to put forward.' Tussman, and Hobbes as well, saw that the demands of accepting authority and recog-nizing the responsibility to elect a good guardian-agent was sufficient responsibility for one to be considered an autonomous adult member of the body p o l i t i c ; but that seems to constitute a member's only 'adult' talent, I would want to argue for a notion of adulthood that i s more extensive and has a different result, My conception of adult autonomy, and therefore p o l i t i c a l freedom, involves more than having the intelligence to submit to control which is static and external; i t i s a notion which requires rather the intelligence to submit to a control which is dynamic and internal. This l a t t e r condition would best express i t s e l f by electing somebody to control your private interest, but someone who is to help you move your private interest in new directions. So long as responsibility for public decisions i s kept with the member rather than given over to the agent in one act of elective faith, than the result is quite a different conception of agency or a theory of representation. It i s not my purpose to detail this other conception. I raise i t here mainly to point out that Tussman arrives i n a kind of authoritarian dilemma because he doesn't see the personality in the terms of integration and growth, but only in terms of the dichotomy between passion and reason; therefore, he doesn't see the po s s i b i l i t y of any other kind of agent. He sees the only alternative to his model as stark and disastrous, for either the passions dominate, meaning in the p o l i t i c a l area, private interest, or there i s control of these passions by reason, meaning in the p o l i t i c a l area, public interest. He doesn't see any middle ground or other way between the horns of that dilemma. There i s nothing inherently i l l o g i c a l about such a com-bination or interpretation of representation and democracy; that i s a theory of democracy could easily incorporate such a view and s t i l l be i n t e l l i g i b l e . S t i l l , i t i s important to see that Tussman i s putting forward an essentially aristocratic theory of govern-ment which i s not our usual concept of democracy, and one which seems to conflict i n places with other versions. In this regard I think i t i s important to have a look at what a democratic theory of government actually involves concep-tually, but this, Tussman doesn't provide. He makes many refer-ences to what a democrat believes, to what democracy assumes, and to what purposes are fundamental, but I find no definitive analysis -64-of i t as a p o l i t i c a l concept unless the e n t i r e book i s that a n a l y s i s . But i f t h i s i s the case, then I s t i l l want to argue that something seems missing; that the p a r t i c u l a r i n t e r p r e t a t i o n that he imputes to a democrat i s a strange one, Tussman makes assumptions that I'm not convinced are generally true. He says at one point i n h i s d i s c u s s i o n of democracy that "the e s s e n t i a l features of a democratic p o l i t y i s i t s concern f o r the p a r t i c i p a t i o n of the member i n the process by which the community i s governed.," Indeed, that does seem to be the e s s e n t i a l feature, but rather than go on from that point to draw the usual implications with reference t o " p a r t i c i p a t i o n " , Tussman has devel-oped h i s own theory of p a r t i c i p a t i o n , which, as I have already argued, i n e f f e c t r e s u l t s i n the wrong kind (or not enough) f o r the ordinary, autonomous member. He j u s t i f i e s h i s own version of p a r t i c i p a t i o n on the grounds that t h i s "concern f o r the p a r t i c i p a t i o n of the member" was a concern of a s p e c i a l kind stemming from a s p e c i f i c motive. "The democrat", so Tussman wants to argue: ...when democracy was a creed that mattered... argued that a l l (or most) men have d e l i b e r a t i v e and moral p o t e n t i a l i t y ar.d t h a t given the proper education and environment, each could take h i s place i n the d e l i b e r a t i v e forum and share the r e s p o n s i b i l i t y of s o v e r e i g n t y . ^ He then goes on to argue that men wanted t h i s kind of p a r t i c i p a t i o n i n "the r e s p o n s i b i l i t y of sovereignty"...."not simply to get more, 52 Tussman, Obligation, p. 105, 53 Loc, c i t . -65-but primarily in order to develop his deliberative and moral character." I don't believe that assumption squares with the history of the extension of the franchise to a l l who are legitimate members of the body p o l i t i c - which i s the essential feature of 'participation' in a democracy, I find the phrase "no taxation without representation" or "each man is the best judge of his own interests" are more adequate places to start theorizing about the origins and purposes of democra-t i c theory. When men demanded a part in the sovereign power, i t is more reasonable to assume that they wanted more power or control over their own l i v e s , not "primarily" ( i f at a l l ) "to develop their delib-erative and moral character." In fact, the r i s i n g demand for a share in the governing process for every man and woman who was a member of the body p o l i t i c matched, rather, the r i s i n g consciousness of the concept of a 'person'; a concept of a human being seen as an i n d i v i -dual entity who has the equal right to autonomy and respect for his individuality within a legal framework that guarantees similar rights for those similarly situated. What may be true is that men have found in the process of achieving these goals — i n the process of 'governing themselves' — that the ideals they cherish which bind them together in the pursuit of a common public interest - ideals such as equality, justice, human dignity and welfare - these ideals demand the development of 54 Tussman, Obligation, p. 105, emphasis mine. -66-a deliberative and moral character for their implementation in p o l i t i c a l l i f e . But this i s a discovery after the fact, not the reason for which democracy — participation In the sovereign function — was demanded, nor i s demanded today. It i s this very discovery which gives rise to the d i f f i c u l t conflict which confronts any body p o l i t i c faced with ideals, on the one hand, and the r e a l i t y of human experience on the other. I find Tussman's arguments both powerful and convincing where he points out the need for our understanding the nature of this conflict which faces any body p o l i t i c i f i t is to escape hypocracy in relation to public purposes. He i s at his best specifically where he talks about the tribunal context in i t s role of determining and protecting the public interest, where he gives us a razor-sharp analysis of the internal relationship between procedure, purpose and law with the model of the American Constitutional democracy in mind. His insights into what turns out to be in the end, the procedural role of the judge, are compellingly clear and insightful. But where I have d i f f i c u l t y with his democratic theory i s where he refuses a place in the public process for the private, individual l i f e , In that attempt, since he lacks any positive theory of individualism, he distorts democratic conceptions to suit his own Platonic view of man. Despite what he says, he is not just arguing for a different view of democracy, I believe his view challenges the very conceptual foundation of our understanding of -67-democracy, and that to follow i t i n a p r a c t i c a l way would very q u i c k l y change the form we c a l l democratic r a d i c a l l y . That may turn out to be a very good thing with respect to the achievement of the p u b l i c i n t e r e s t i n one sense, but then, that Is a d i f f e r e n t argument. My claim here i s that Tussman i s not putting f o r t h just a horse of a d i f f e r e n t c o l o r , but another animal, r e s t i n g on a d i s t i n c t i v e a t t i t u d e toward human beings. I suspect that Tussman i s driven to t h i s a t t i t u d e when he looks around at the actu a l working of the democratic process and t r i e s to make sense of that commitment•to a p u b l i c purpose, or pu b l i c i n t e r e s t , or common good, or whatever the term we use to appeal to those i d e a l s which extend beyond our own pr i v a t e , i n d i v i -dual wants and i n t e r e s t s . That i s , he Is driven to an a r i s t o c r a t i c view of human nature from the re c o g n i t i o n that the democratic view doesn't seem to work, that men pursuing t h e i r own pri v a t e i n t e r e s t s within an a u t h o r i t a t i v e structure which encourages that p u r s u i t , can r a r e l y achieve a formulation of the p u b l i c i n t e r e s t . The best that can ever happen under these circumstances i s that someone seizes command, one side out-bargains or out-manoeuvres a l l the others, with the r e s u l t being the legitimacy of sheer power as the c r i t e r i a of pu b l i c purpose. His d e s c r i p t i o n of the democratic process from t h i s perspective i s a c h i l l i n g l y accurate and. a l l too sobering o n e.^ Perhaps he i s saying that we are no longer confronted with a c o n f l i c t , but a c r i s i s . We l i v e i n such a dangerous time that we 55 Tussman, Obligation, p. 104, -68-can no longer afford the luxury of experimenting with the giving of power to adolescents in the hopes that the process of ruling w i l l turn them into responsible adults. Perhaps he is saying that we can no longer give people power over dangerous weapons that they regard as toys, or over the resources of the earth that they re-gard as private possessions. Perhaps he is saying that we l i v e in an emergency era, where even democracies must be willing to put more power in the hands of the few, well-chosen wise men who they elect as their rulers. This isn't such a strange idea, for democracies have b u i l t -in measures which entitle the agents to take over emergency powers in times of c r i s i s . During those times, we allow government to rule us paternally with not only our consent, but with our gratitude. (The Platonic ideal!) The point i s this, however: i s Tussman putting forward a viable theory of democratic government and repre-sentation for extraordinary times, or is he claiming i t i s an appro-priate model of the relationship of ruler to ruled a l l the time? If i t i s the latt e r claim then I cannot see how one can escape seeing his theory of this relationship of authority as fundamentally paternalistic and aristocratic, not democratic. Either i t is one or the other, for i t cannot be both as the same time and s t i l l permit these words their distinctive, p o l i t i c a l signification,, CHAPTER IV -69-With this analysis of Tussman's theory of p o l i t i c a l ob-ligation and i t s relationship to a theory of democracy behind us, we can f i n a l l y turn to the major concern of his p o l i t i c a l philo-sophy both i n this book and in Experiment at Berkeley, his theory of p o l i t i c a l education. It w i l l not look so strange to confront assertions l i k e : The theory of education i s essentially the theory of the government of mind; i t Is hopeless when i t i s not at the same time a theory of the state — a theory of p o l i t i c a l o b l i g a t i o n . ^ for i t i s not surprising to see that the dilemma which spawned his distinctive theory of representation i s what i s driving his argument here as well. I put forward the contention earlier that Tussman i s clearly in the Platonic-Rousseau tradition of seeing freedom as a kind of in-ternal power of the rational faculty over the emotional-instinctual l i f e , and that this view of freedom i s an important undercurrent which informs his theory of public interest, his theory of representation, and most especially, his theory of education. For Tussman then, "government of mind" i s another term for "freedom of the mind"; the very Platonic sense of freedom already discussed. Tussman wants to argue that i t i s the primary function of a l i b e r a l education to nourish that kind of freedom. The crux i s freedom. Liberal education aims at the free mind.,..If we could force men to be free, we would, as i t i s we can only try to help them. Once we understand what freedom of the mind i s , the paradoxical quality of that statement disappears. Minds are not made free by being l e f t alone. Nor are students,^ 56 Tussman, Obligation, p. 103. 57 Tussman, Experiment at Berkeley, p. 29 -70-Th e reason that the cultivation of this "free mind" i s so important a task that i t must be, so Tussman argues, the primary goal of any concept of l i b e r a l education i n a democracy, i s because without i t we cannot approach the public/private distinction with any i n t e l l i -gence and therefore, cannot f u l f i l l our roles as active members in the body p o l i t i c . To have a free mind in this sense i s to have trained our character (in the Platonic sense) to f i t us for the roles of member and agent in the democratic community, It i s in this sense that Tussman sees education as having a positive, purposeful mission, a task and role to play, and, he claims, i t i s the raison d'etre of a free, compulsory and universal educational system. Tussman's educational theory embroils him in an age-old educational controversy as to the nature of the development of the rational capacity - the exercise of which he regards as "freedom of the mind," There are two conflicting views concerning the develop-ment of capacity, as old as Socrate's arguments in Meno. One view regards man at birth as l i t t l e more than an empty bottle which needs f i l l i n g up. It therefore i s the duty and purpose of teaching to put knowledge into the person. On the other view man i s seen at birth as simply a complex of inherited faculties which unfold spontaneously and automatically when confronted with particular stimuli when i t is appropriate for that organism to do so. Pushed to i t s extreme position, this latter view holds that a l l guidance by adults i s a form of imposition on the child who generates his own standards and controls wholly from -71-within himself. These two doctrines appear in the area of human affairs mostly as conflicting doctrines under the names respectively of the "authoritarian" and "permissive" schools i n educational theory. Each riva l s the other for the throne of truth, but, in fact, they share the throne between them. For i t seems to be the case that human nature i s a set of complex, innate capacities - genetically deter-mined — some of which unfold spontaneously, and some of which do not. That i s , there are some capacities which, given the appro-priate environment, do just unfold spontaneously without any kind of purposeful, training period. We can see that in the capacities of eating, talking, and walking, or even loving, hating, sympathiz-ing, You cannot really speak of teaching someone to talk or to love in the same way as you speak of teaching someont to play a game or do mathematical sums. At least, in an important sense, i f you leave people alone, i t i s very l i k e l y that they w i l l be able to develop the a b i l i t y to walk and make sounds with their mouth, and eat what they must without any direct, purposeful training period..or teaching. But there are also important 'potential' capacities which, while residually inherent in the individual, may not develop auto matically or spontaneously. These must be called out through purposeful interaction with other people, and i t i s usually the. case that these 'potentialities' or 'capacities' are rarely actua-lize d u n t i l after this interaction has occured. Some of our most -72-valuable a c t i v i t i e s belong to this la t t e r category, act i v i t i e s such as abstract reasoning, logical deliberation, playing musical instru-ments, or even performing athletic games that depend on s k i l l and the development of certain parts of our musculature beyond an 'ordinary' range. There i s a difference between learning to walk and learning to play the v i o l i n , or between learning the reflex action of drinking and learning to do higher mathematics, though they are a l l inherent human capacities and though we use the same word -'learning' when talking about them. Beginning with Plato many philosophers and educational theorists have recognized this distinction between capacities as an important one for the purposes of education. In particular, they have regarded the development of the rational capacities of the mind as belonging to the second category; that i s , they have regarded the activities of reasoning, deliberating, judging, and the exercise of certain mental s k i l l s as inherent in everyone in greater or lesser degrees, but not actualized automatically — most particularly — not actualized automatically in accordance with particular cultural traditions and moral values which are crucial to the on-going l i f e of a c i v i l i z e d community. They argue that even i f these capacities are innate, we s t i l l have the responsibility of developing and engaging them, in awakening their potential, and in guiding them along certain paths, Tussman - like Plato and Rousseau before him - goes even further to suggest that "freedom of mind" and therefore, real freedom, depends upon the development of these rational capacities as a 'power' against the strength of the spontaneous appetites. He argues that i t i s the power that we have to actua-l i z e our capacities for purposes that we have consciously and rationally determined that makes us free-self-determining i n d i v i -duals , If, as on this account, power is freedom, then the degree of freedom that a man has is directly related to the degree of power he can actualize. Accordingly, i f the actualization of those powers i s dependent upon the development of innate capacities, then a man must have access to the means of developing them i f his powers, and thus his freedom, are not to be diminished. Tussman i s arguing that the meaning of self-government, both individually and p o l i t i c a l l y , i s not what we think i t i s . It is not merely the condition of making your own rules seen as 'doing what you l i k e ' . The freedom that he speaks of as needed in order to be self-directing, self-governing members of society i s the Platonic freedom: freedom of the mind. He sees that freedom as not an automatic, fixed part of human nature; but that i t can be established where i t does not occur spontaneously, and increased where i t does, through learning, experience and cultivation. For Tussman, then, the free mind i s not the mind that has been l e f t alone to' express only i n i t i a l f i r s t desires, wants, and passions: Minds are not made free by being l e f t alone. Nor are students. For to do this is not to contribute to a person's real freedom. He might make choices or give his consent without adequate reflection or appreciation of the consequences, or in pursuit of transitory or unreal desires, or in various predicaments when judgement i s l i k e l y to be clouded by lack of understanding. Tussman sees that education alone cannot cope with a l l of these factors, nor perhaps even change them, but i t can diminish their effect and create conditions of awareness that contribute to greater possible freedom of choice. Thus i t liberates us from the bonds of "mere appetite" and allows us to take our place as delib-erative members in the body p o l i t i c , Through a l l of this, he i s making the claim that since democracy depends upon a truly self-governing society, and for him the condition of self-government requires freedom seen as "government of the mind", then i t i s the f i r s t duty of the democratic body p o l i t i c to provide an educational system which is engaged in the positive cultivation of that kind of free mind. He wants to argue, that not only does democratic government have the "license to meddle", with the minds of i t s members, but i t has the positive obligation to "meddle." This is what he means when he says that Liberal education must be "educa/tion for the l i f e of action and 59 decision."-^ 58 Tussman, Experiment at Berkeley, p. 29. 59 Tussman, Obligation, p. 15. -75-This argument i s a strong and compelling one. I t i s true that i f democratic theory i s concerned with g i v i n g the r i g h t to p a r t i c i p a t e i n the sovereign power to every member of the body p o l i t i c , and i f i t i s true that t h i s p a r t i c u l a r r o l e requires the l e a r n i n g of s p e c i a l s k i l l s and t r a i t s r e l a t e d to the development of a d i s t i n c t i v e character and r a t i o n a l a b i l i t y , then we can only conclude with Tussman that i t i s sheer f o l l y to ignore the impor-tant educational r o l e that p o l i t i c a l l i f e demands. But there i s an important s h i f t that occurs i n h i s educational theory that.Tussman doesn't acknowledge. This s h i f t adds more f u e l to the claim that what begins as a democratic theory, turns out i n 60 the end to be an a r i s t o c r a t i c one — or more s p e c i f i c a l l y , a P l a t o n i c one, f o r i t i s here that h i s Platonism i s c l e a r e s t , Tussman begins Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c saying that "the education of the c i t i z e n f o r the r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s of a v a r i e t y 6l of p o l i t i c a l r o l e s i s a pressing task" and one r o l e i n p a r t i c u l a r , "the r o l e of the member, i s the one f o r which everyone needs educa-62 t i o n , " But very quickly i t becomes apparent that he means i n e f f e c t to convert the notion of member i n t o that of agent, and although h i s theory of membership preserves the notion that we are a l l agents i n some sense i n a democracy, once he begins t a l k i n g 60 I have begun to use the word ' a r i s t o c r a t i c ' rather than 'authoritarian' . f o r that word conveys the p a r t i c u l a r kind of a u t h o r i t a r i a n system that I . b e l i e v e Tussman, l i k e Plato, argues f o r . 61 . Tussman, Obligation, p. 10, 62 I b i d . , p. 11. -76-about the agent, he begins to r e s t r i c t the notion of agency to the concern with only the r o l e of the 'elected representative'. Con-sequently, the education that he i s so concerned with, turns out to be not the p o l i t i c a l education of the large mass of members, but the s p e c i f i c education of the elected agent f o r h i s r o l e as r u l e r . This f a c t , though not so obvious i n O b l i g a t i o n and the Body P o l i t i c , becomes very c l e a r i n h i s next book, Experiment at Berkeley. Here he fastens on the college as d i s t i n c t from the 6? u n i v e r s i t y to be the i n s t i t u t i o n to f u l f i l l t h i s important edu-c a t i o n a l task. He doesn't deny the importance of the concept of a u n i v e r s i t y — the expansion of knowledge divided i n t o separate d i s c i p l i n e s — but he wants to argue that the p o l i t i c a l r o l e of self-government i n a democracy demands a two-year programme which should be t o t a l l y centered around p o l i t i c a l , moral and s o c i a l themes before allowing students to go on to s p e c i a l i z e i n the d i s c i p l i n e s provided by a u n i v e r s i t y . For him, the l i b e r a l a r t s college has i t s own s p e c i a l task i n t h i s regard. I t i s : ,,,a d i f f e r e n t enterprise. I t does not assault or extend the f r o n t i e r s of knowledge. I t has a d i f f e r e n t mission. I t c u l t i v a t e s human under-standing. The mind of the person, not the body of knowledge, i s i t s c e n t r a l c o n c e r n . ^ At t h i s point he seems to have abandoned any idea of educating the majority of members, at l e a s t formally, f o r by the time a member reaches a college or the lower d i v i s i o n of a u n i v e r s i t y , 63 Though i n f a c t , he argues the same case f o r the f i r s t two years of u n i v e r s i t y ' l i f e — what he c a l l s the "lower d i v i s i o n " years. 64 Tussman, Experiment at Berkeley, Introduction, p. xiv. -77-there has already been a systematic winnowing process. We are l e f t with a group of people, In modern dress, but c l o s e l y resembling Plato's guardian c l a s s In Republic, who underwent t h e i r own s p e c i a l l y s e l e c t i v e process. Tussman's s e l e c t i v e process i s the v e r t i c a l mobility through our educational t e s t i n g system which i s supposed to determine who are the most i n t e l l e c t u a l l y - o r i e n t e d mem-bers of our soc i e t y . Out of t h i s group w i l l come our agents. So i t i s r e a l l y the s p e c i a l l y selected, agent, the elected representative, which i s the center of Tussman's educational energy, just as f o r Plato i t was the education of the guardians which con-sumed the major part of Republic. But what of the ordinary member? What kind of education w i l l he receive? How i s he to understand the complex notion of agreement that Tussman f i n d s so c r u c i a l to the notion of a body p o l i t i c ? How w i l l he understand the "knowing" q u a l i t y of h i s o b l i g a t i o n s of subordination? How w i l l he construe his. r i g h t s ? Indeed, the argument comes f u l l c i r c l e — how w i l l he ever be able to understand who are h i s betters that he might e l e c t them to r u l e over him? On these matters, Tussman gives us no f u r t h e r information. Despite h i s democratic notion of member, Tussman t r e a t s the ordinary member i n very much the same way that Plato, t r e a t s the a r t i s a n s i n the Republic. I t ' s not exactly f o r the same reason, though i t i s f o r a s i m i l a r one: he doesn't hold much hope f o r the ordinary, run-of-the-mill member. His only hope i s somewhat l i k e M i l l ' s notion of "respect": the hope that the ordinary member w i l l -78-have enough sense to allow *a saving remnant' to save themj that they w i l l allow a well-trained and dedicated group of superior agents to rule over them, with their consent. It i s to this end that he conceives the purpose of l i b e r a l education. Liberal education i s - when i t is what i t should be....training free citizens to exercise judgement on behalf of a consciously self-governed community,g Another and most important d i f f i c u l t y with his theory of education l i e s less with i t s undemocratic nature, but in the narrow-ness of i t s conception. Tussman seems to hold the view that the great tradition of a l i b e r a l arts education should be conceived of as s t r i c t l y a " p o l i t i c a l education" and p o l i t i c a l i n just that special sense of his. He says at the beginning of Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c that "I shall resist the temptation to pursue the argument that the ' l i b e r a l ' i s the ' p o l i t i c a l ' " but then immediately says: The l i b e r a l college w i l l continue to flounder from one morass into another u n t i l i t re-discovers in the task of educating the ruler, the central theme of i t s l i f e . ^ By the end of the book, there are no more qualifications: The education of the ruler, of the p o l i t i c a l agent, i s s t i l l our greatest unmet educational challenge. It is.,..the central theme, i f not the lost chord, of 'l i b e r a l ' education.g,-, And by the time he writes Experiment at Berkeley, he is committed to the identification of the ' l i b e r a l ' with the ' p o l i t i c a l ' from the very beginning. He states that the l i b e r a l arts college has 65 Tussman, Obligation, p. 10. 66 Loc. c i t . 67 Ibid., p. 103. -79-" i t s own mission: to f i t us for the l i f e of active membership in the democratic community; to f i t us to serve, in i t s broadest sense our common p o l i t i c a l vocation,"^ Either Tussman has expanded the notion of the p o l i t i c a l remarkably beyond what we ordinarily see as part of that notion, or the notion of the p o l i t i c a l remains as i t usually i s , relatively narrow, and a whole other range of important values just drop out of the conception of l i b e r a l arts educational purposes. That i s , does Tussman mean to enlarge the notion of the ' p o l i t i c a l ' to i n -clude the a c t i v i t i e s of our emotional, s p i r i t u a l , aesthetic, psych-ological, a r t i s t i c and creative lives? I think not, I think the best that can be said for his enlargement of the range of the p o l i t i c a l i s to include 'moral', 69 and 'social* a c t i v i t i e s closely related to p o l i t i c a l l i f e and that the charge of narrowness concerning the subject matter of a l i b e r a l arts education i s an appropriate one. There i s good evidence for this view given in the last chapter of Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c where he says: The s c h o o l i s , , , , e i t h e r the nurturer of the deliberative animal, or, f a i l i n g that, a bordello of the mind.^Q There i s a total lack Of any other values which could balance the parallel construction of that sentence, After the words " f a i l i n g that", there Is nothing but a reference to degeneracy! What can Tussman possibly mean by referring to the entire range of ac t i v i t i e s 68 Tussman, Experiment at Berkeley, p, 4. 69 Ibid., p. 38. Here he says that "Important for the liberal-arts lower division in America today means 'moral', 'social', ' p o l i t i c a l ' . 70 Tussman, Obligation, p. 105. Emphasis mine. -80-mentioned above, and not covered by the word "deliberative", as a "bordello". Is he using the word descriptively or evaluatively? . Is he contrasting a heaven and a hell? My own sense i s that Tussman uses the word with tolerant contempt. He sees any activity of the mind which is not deliberative, rational, not oriented to train the agent to play his role i n the democratic enterprise, as a seductive degeneracy of the mind, where passion may be indulged i n for a price. He can refer to any kind of interest other than the p o l i t i c a l as the "bordello of the mind" because he sees curiosity which i s unharnessed from the l i f e of the polis as no particular virtue at a l l , and It appears he feels the same way about creativity. My objection takes the form that i t seems both strange and incorrect to relegate the powerful and crucial range of a c t i -v i t i e s that affect our emotional and s p i r i t u a l l i f e to a bordello image. Most of these a c t i v i t i e s are not deliberative in the sense that he means, and though they are instrumental in training our character for the l i f e of action and decision that he values so much, they do not do so i n the way that Tussman stresses. Tussman's model of training character i s a controlled one, whereas a l l the creative a c t i v i t i e s are part of an integrative training model. They are a c t i v i t i e s or modes of training which are means of growing in the f u l l sense of training yourself for seeing and understanding yourself more clearly through focussing energies along certain channels of•expression. To argue -81-this vray i s not to deny the importance of character, but to claim that i t i s best developed in an integrated way rather than a controlling way. It is to argue that the creative ranges of education are a different sort of ac t i v i t y , but, at least as important to the f u l l l i f e of any human animal, for they are what give l i f e much of i t s energy, v i t a l i t y and interest. It i s true that Tussman sees the ' p o l i t i c a l ' as the center of the subject matter for only the f i r s t two years of the college or the lower division of the university, but the objection s t i l l stands, for i t i s these very years which play, such a crucial part in the development of a person's character. Tussman's narrowness of vision just as this particular point in a person's education i s a serious one, I suspect that part of the problem here i s , again, the old one encountered earlier i n trying to understand the relationship of private interest to public interest: the old conflict between the rationa.1 and the emotional l i f e , the roots of which can be traced to his fundamentally Platonic conception of human nature, and to the division of the soul, Tussman applauds the rational capacity while fearing the appetative-emotional. He sees the only proper purpose of education to be the strengthening of our reasoning capacity so that we may perform as our 'best s e l f . Related to that conflict, and another part of the problem here, i s his lack of a positive theory concerning individuality. -82-Tussman seems only to recognize p o l i t i c a l individuals — and p o l i t i c a l in that special sense of his. Because of that his theory of education lacks any psychological underpinnings related to how, in fact, people learn the very things that he values. It lacks a broader, more inclusive view of human nature. Because of this, and because of his emphasis on duty, reason and obligation, Tussman comes out looking more like a. r i g i d authoritarian than a democratic advocate of freedom. This missing part of his theory i s a serious omission, for. i t tends to work l i k e a smoke screen, blocking out the very important contribution that a programme li k e the one offered at Berkeley and others l i k e i t have to make in terms of a viable and exciting teaching method. In this regard, i t i s a pity that he didn't use the "bordello" metaphor in much the same way as he uses his metaphor of the "market-71 place" regarding the forum. For I think he has a fundamental point to make, one that has given both his programme and others l i k e i t their special quality and l i f e . Where he sees educational institutions as bordellos or market-places, where he sees them as seductive exploiters of our passing whims, cursory interests, or panderers to our immediate pleasures, he i s making an important point. He is making a distinction between two different ways to approach learning. One is from the basis of abstraction - from the discipline of a ' f i e l d of study',.the other is from the basis of the very problems which gave ri s e to the f i e l d of study In the f i r s t place. He is talking fundamentally about two different ways to hook up facts and. knowledge, or learning and under-standing, or science and vrisdom. He is claiming that education should 71 Tussman, Experiment at Berkeley, p. 13. not be either a marketplace nor a bordello. It should not be a place where knowledge is hawked or seductively sold, but should be the purposeful confrontation of a series of issues growing out of actual problems in l i f e . Tussman i s making a claim that i s much the same claim that Popper has made with regard to the a l l too seductive, but inevitably bankrupt method of beginning to teach from the basis of abstraction 72 alone. Popper argues that what he calls the "prima facie method 73 of teaching philosophy" y i s l i a b l e to produce a philosophy that turns out to be a lot of nonsense: What I mean by 'the prima facie method of teaching philosophy', and what would seem to be the only method, is that of giving the beginner,,..the works of the great philosophers to read; the works, say, of Plato, Aristotle, Descartes and Leibniz, Locke, Berkeley, Hume, Kant and M i l l , What is the effect of such a course of reading? A new world of astonishingly subtle and vast abstractions opens i t s e l f before the reader; abstractions on an extremely high and d i f f i c u l t level. Thoughts and argu-ments are put before his mind which sometimes are not only hard to understand, but which seem to him irrelevant because he cannot find out what they may be relevant to. .. Yet the student knows that these are the great philosophers, that this i s the way of philosophy, Thus he w i l l make an effort to adjust his mind to what he believes (mistakenly, as we shall see) to be their way of thinking. He w i l l attempt to speak their queer language, to match the tortuous spirals of their argumentation and. perhaps even t i e him-sel f up in their curious knots. Some may learn these tricks in a superficial way, others may begin to become genuinely fascinated addicts. Yet I feel that we ought to respect the man who having made his effort comes ultimately to what may be described as Wittgenstein's conclusion: 'I have learned the jargon as well as any-body, It i s very clever and captivating. In fact, i t i s dangerously captivating; for the simple truth about the matter i s that i t i s much ado about nothing — just a lot of nonsense. x n h 72 Popper i s talking fundamentally about philosophy only, but I think can be generalized, 73 Karl R. Popper, Conjectures and Refutations; the-Growth of Scientific Knowledge, Harper Torchbook, New York, I 9 6 3 , p. 72. 7'+ Ibid. , p. 72-72. The excellence of the argument ju s t i f i e s i t s -84-Popper talks here about the 'prima facie method' i n much the same way as Tussman uses the metaphor of the "bordello" to describe a particular kind of education — or the only kind of education most students get in their university l i f e . Students come to the college or university knowing l i t t l e or nothing about the various disciplines of learning. During their undergraduate years, so the theory goes, they are to be exposed to as many dis-ciplines as possible i n order to be able to get an understanding of what they are about and thus to be able to choose what they are really interested in pursuing in their l i v e s . Popper argues that what in fact happens i s that the student does learn how to 'do' science, or philosophy, or history, or what-ever, that i s , he learns how to copy the method of abstraction that is being taught. Furthermore, there i s a kind of seduction in the very process, for once the student begins to relate to learning in this way, and becomes good at i t - thus being rewarded for the proper procedures - he becomes committed to the process i t s e l f , often losing sight of the meaning. However, Popper points out quite rightly, that eventually the abstract process and the reality of the problems that the pro-cess was designed to illuminate, get further and further apart Finally the student becomes dissociated from the emotional energy and excitement that made those intellectual pursuits concerns in the f i r s t place. Eventually he must start a l l over again i f he really wants to continue in the f i e l d with some kind of meaningful experience. More often, he j u s t becomes d i s i l l u s i o n e d . Popper thinks there i s another way to approach these kinds of i n t e l l e c t u a l concerns, a method which cuts across the d i v i s i o n of knowledge i n t o compartments with t h e i r own structures. I t begins instead with the problems themselves: The degeneration of p h i l o s o p h i c a l schools i n i t s t u r n i s the consequence of the mistaken b e l i e f that one can philosophize without having been compelled to philosophize by problems which a r i s e outside p h i l o s o p h y — i n mathematics, f o r example, or i n cosmology, or i n p o l i t i c s , or i n r e l i g i o n , or i n s o c i a l l i f e . In other words my f i r s t t h esis i s t h i s . Genuine p h i l o s o p h i c a l problems are always rooted i n urgent problems outside philosophy, and they d i e i f these roots d e c a y , ^ Tussman's educational thr u s t , both i n Obligation and the Body P o l i t i c and i n Experiment i n Berkeley i s towards t h i s approach. He argues f o r a method of studying p o l i t i c a l problems based on fundamental and important issues: "freedom and authority, the i n -7 d i v i d u a l and society, conscience and law, acceptance and r e b e l l i o n " rather than the abstract study of a p a r t i c u l a r body of material d i v i d e d up i n t o compartments or categories. We do not think i n terms of "humanities" or " s o c i a l science"; we do not even think i n terms of " h i s t o r y " or " l i t e r a t u r e " or " p o l i t i c a l science" or "philosophy". I t i s not that we want to r e -place these categories with others. We do not quarrel with them; we simply do not use them, and, i f they prescribe l i m i t s , we do not observe them. We read Homer, Thucydides, a.nd Plato; but we do not say or think, "now we are on l i t e r a t u r e " , "Now we turn to h i s t o r y " , "At l a s t we come to p h i l o s o p h y " . 7 7 75 Popper, Conjectures and Refutations, p. 72. 76 Tussman, Experiment at Eerkeley, p. 32. 77 Ibid., p. 47. -86-Tussman calls this difference "the substitution of the program for the course" and what he has to say about the importance of this distinction for educating students In the lower division years is one of the most lucid arguments on the subject and parallels much of what popper has to say about the teaching of philosophy and 78 science,' They are both talking about a method of inquiry and teaching. My only complaint is that he doesn't develop this method as appropriate to subject area.s other than the s t r i c t l y ' p o l i t i c a l ' , that he doesn't see a wider range of worthwhile act i v i t i e s that can be considered the proper purpose of a l i b e r a l arts education. It would be exciting to see not only p o l i t i c s , but literature, art and science taught from the same perspective. Because of Tussman's narrow conception of l i b e r a l education as ' p o l i t i c a l ' education, he aborts the "bordello" metaphor from some of i t s more natural implications. To this charge of narrowness must be added a post-script. What i s important in what Tussman has to say in this regard is the reminder of something we seem to have forgotten or never truly understood. He argues for the strengthening of one of the weakest links in our educational chain, and, as the logic of his arguments . point out, a crucial one in a democracy, He demonstrates with power and s k i l l the logical steps which connect the ideals of our democratic p o l i t i c a l theory to the necessity of some kind of pol-i t i c a l education. Whether or not one sees his description of "self-government", as the Platonic conception of a free mind, he forces 78 Tussman, Experiment at Berkeley, pp. 46-65. -87-us to recognize that even at the simplest level of a notion of "self-government", the business of the state requires the training of minds in the intelligent exercise of the right to vote. I f right have duties attached, we may well require the exercise of the duties f i r s t . As he points out, i t i s one of the great curiosities of p o l i t i c a l l i f e - t h a t we require a special course of training for 'naturalized' citizens, but not for those who acquire their member-ship through the accident of birth. Though Tussman tends to lose sight of the broader spectrum of the purposes of education that we value as.much as we do the ' p o l i t i c a l ' , he recognizes that the intelligent l i f e of a member of the body p o l i t i c means that we must see the p o l i t i c a l as one of the.highest purposes of a free, universal and compulsory educational system in a democracy. Furthermore, the idea that decision-making requires at least some modicum of s k i l l may well mean that vre need to re-think a theory of agency which includes at least Tussman's suggestion that training i s a necessary precondition for the acquisition or actua-li z a t i o n of those s k i l l s , though we may want to argue about the kind or method or training which i s the most effective. It may very well make sense to set up some obligations on the part of a citizen before giving him the right to.make decisions affecting us a l l ; a course of study for a relatively brief time that i s neither punitive nor restrictive, but a kind of acknowledgement that a process has been undergone. The problem i s , of course, as i t always i s with any movement towards ' q u a l i f i c a t i o n s ' ( e s p e c i a l l y f o r having the r i g h t to vote or standing f o r o f f i c e ) , who administers the q u a l i f y i n g standards and how do we protect the purpose of those kind of provisi o n s from being used i n v i c i o u s and r e s t r i c t i v e ways? \Je have seen how l o y a l t y oaths or property q u a l i f i c a t i o n s or l i t e r a c y t e s t s have been used to maintain an ' a r i s t o c r a t i c b i a s ' that i s unequal and unjust. What Tussman does i s to remind us that i t may not be altogether outrageous to re-think what the r i g h t to vote requires of us educationally. CONCLUSION - 8 9 -I have been arguing throughout t h i s paper that Tussman's relia.nce upon P l a t o n i c notions i s the key to understanding h i s argu-ments i n O b l i g a t i o n and the Body P o l i t i c . S p e c i f i c a l l y , I have argued that i t i s the promotion of t h i s notion of the p u b l i c i n t e r e s t , seen In i t s P l a t o n i c form, which Tussman sees as the fundamental purpose of the State. It i s the notion which spawns h i s s p e c i a l view of freedom, h i s theory of p o l i t i c a l representation and h i s theory of education.' I have argued that the way he develops the implications of the notion of. the p u b l i c i n t e r e s t leaves him open to the charge of P l a t o n i c e l i t i s m and authoritarianism. The notion that i n d i v i d u a l s have d i f f e r e n t c a p a c i t i e s , that authority must be placed i n the hands of some decision-making body, a.nd that 'the best' should r u l e i s not n e c e s s a r i l y an author-i t a r i a n p o i n t of view. In that sense Tussman i s wrestling with a t r a d i t i o n a l and important problem. What pushes him over i n t o the a u t h o r i t a r i a n camp i s j u s t h i s P l a t o n i c view of vrhat the best consists of; i n p a r t i c u l a r , the dilemma he gets into through s e t t i n g up a dichotomy between reason and passion, and p r i v a t e and p u b l i c i n t e r e s t r e s p e c t i v e l y . The d i s t i n c t i o n between p r i v a t e and p u b l i c i n t e r e s t i s an important one. I t has been made i n a l l kinds of ways which aren't r e a l l y very s a t i s f a c t o r y , and Tussman's P l a t o n i c attempt to a l i g n i t with reason against passion i s n ' t much of a s o l u t i o n e i t h e r . However, where the d i s t i n c t i o n points to the necessity i n peer re -l a t i o n s h i p s — p o l i t i c a l or otherwise •— of a process which transforms a v a r i e t y of i n d i v i d u a l p r i v a t e claims i n t o a "system of i n t e r e s t s " which i s f a i r to a l l i n t e r e s t s , i t i s on s o l i d ground. Whenever a -90-group of people get together and try to l i v e together, there has to he some movement out of just their own individual concerns or interests into something larger, something that takes account of everyone who is equally situated. How that process actually takes place i s directly related to the kind of authority structure that characterizes a body p o l i t i c . Tussman sees that process as essentially the suppression, of the emotional, irrational l i f e to the rational, or the transforma-tion of the private to the public,, and this view colors his theory of representation. What he leaves us with in the end is the concept of the agent in the Platonic model of the guardian. His attempt in Obligation and the 3ody P o l i t i c to bring both Plato and democracy together into some kind of synthesis which tr i e s to save the wisdom in each, turns out f i n a l l y to resemble a Platonic model of a body p o l i t i c rather than a democratic one. B I B L I O G R A P H Y I. BOOKS: A l i n s k y , S a u l D. R e v e i l l e f o r R a d i c a l s . New York: Vintage Books, 1969. Ashton-Warner, S y l v i a . Teacher. New York: Bantam Book, 1964. B e r l i n , I s a i a h , Four Essays on L i b e r t y . London: Oxford U n i v e r s i t y P r ess, 1969. Burke, Edmund, The Philosophy o f Edmund Burke. Ann Arbor Paperbacks: The U n i v e r s i t y of Michigan Press, I967. Cornford, F.M. The Republic of P l a t o . Oxford: Oxford U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1956. Freud, Sigmund. C i v i l i z a t i o n and. I t s D i s c o n t e n t s . New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1962. Hobbes, Thomas. L e v i a t h a n , P a r t s I and. I I . New York: The L i b r a r y of L i b e r a l A r t s , 1958. Hook, Sidney, The Paradoxes of Freedom. Berkeley: Univer-s i t y o f C a l i f o r n i a P r e s s , 1967, H o l t , John. How C h i l d r e n F a i l . New York: D e l l P u b l i s h i n g Co., 1964. . Escape From Childhood. New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., 1974. Humboldt, Von Wilhelm. The L i m i t s of Sta t e A c t i o n . Ed. J.W. Burrow, Cambridge: Cambridge U n i v e r s i t y P r e s s , 1969. Jung, C a r l , G. Man and His Symbols. New York: D e l l P u b l i s h -i n g Co., 1973. . Memories, Dreams, R e f l e c t i o n s . New York: Vintage Books, 1963. . .The Undiscovered S e l f . New York: The New American L i b r a r y , 1958, Maslow, A.H. The F a r t h e r Reaches of Human Nature. New York: The Viking Press, 1971. . Toward a Psychology of Being. P r i n c e t o n , N.J.: Van Nostrand, 1962. Meiklejohn, Alexander, Education Between Two Worlds. New York: Atherton Press, i960. -92-K i l l , John Stuart. Autobiography. ' New York: Columbia U n i v e r s i t y Press, 1 9 2 4 , . U t i l i t a r i a n i s m ; L i b e r t y ; Representative Government. London: Dent, 1 9 5 7 . [Everyman's L i b r a r y , No. 482.) N e i l l , A.S. Summerhill. New York: Hart Publishing Co., I 9 6 0 . Nietzsche, F r i e d r i c h . The B i r t h of Tragedy. New York: Vintage Books, 1 9 6 7 . Pearls, Frederick, H e f f e r l i n e , Ralph F., Goodman, Paul. Ge s t a l t Therapy. New York: D e l l Publishing Co., 1 9 5 1 . . In And Oat of the Garbage P a i l . Lafayette, C a l i f o r n i a : Real People Press, I 9 6 9 . Peters, Richard, Authority, R e s p o n s i b i l i t y and Education. London: George A l l e n & Unwin Ltd,, 1 9 6 9 , . The Concept of Education. London: . Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1 9 6 7 . , E t h i c s and Education. A t l a n t a ; Scott, Foresman and Company, 1 9 6 7 . Popper, K a r l R, Conjectures and Refutations: The Growth of S c i e n t i f i c Knowledge, New York; Harper Torchbook, 1 9 6 3 . Rousseau, Jean Jacques. Emile. trans. Barbara Foxley, London: Everyman's Li b r a r y , 1 9 6 6 . . The Confessions. Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1 9 6 7 . .. The S o c i a l Contract and Discourses. New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., 1 9 5 2 . (Everyman's Library, No. 6 6 0 ) . Tussman, Joseph. • Experiment at Berkeley. New York: Oxford U n i v e r s i t y Press, 1 9 6 9 . . Obligation and, the Body P o l i t i c . New York: Oxford U n i v e r s i t y Press, 1 9 o l , I I . ARTICLES: Tussman, Joseph. "The C o l l e g i a t e R i t e of Passage." Experiment and Innovation, Vol. I I , No. 1 , July I 9 6 8 . and tenBroek, Jacobus. "The Equal Protection of the Laws," C a l i f o r n i a Law Review, Sept. 1949. POST-SCRIPT -93-My bibliography i s not traditional in the sense that i t does not pretend to be an exhaustive l i s t of the books and articles available in the area of p o l i t i c a l and educational philosophy. This is not an oversight but a matter of principle. In an important sense a l l that I have ever read with interest i s part of this thesis, for my commitment and focus for so many years of graduate work has always been centered around my own experiences with educating myself and finding answers to the problems - personal and theoretical - that have been generated by that struggle. Therefore i t would be perfectly appropriate to l i s t every book and a r t i c l e that I have been concerned eneough to read. However, that task seems to me a rather stylish waste of time. Instead, I have presented a working bibliography for the purposes of this paper, but in keeping with the main thesis expressed in these pages, I would like to include four learning experiences that have been major influences on my thinking: 1. Board Member in The New School, Vancouver, B.C. 2. The Experimental College at Berkeley, California. 3. The Resident Fellow Program at Cold Mountain Institute, Cortes Island, B.C. h. My years of graduate work at U.B.C, both as a student and a teacher, I have been a student for so long that, my youngest child f i n a l l y asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.
UBC Theses and Dissertations
An analysis and critique of the political and educational philosophy of Joseph Tussman Freeman, Natalie Veiner 1974
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