What Is Required in Western Democracies and of the Western Citizen.

What Is Required in Western Democracies and of the Western Citizen.

Summary. Western democracies, and the Western citizen in particular, require two interrelated elements: first, a new sensitivity; second, an unyielding political will directed toward political and individual autonomy. Concurrently, there must develop a critical awareness of the ideological dimension inherent in supposedly “objective” technology.

The fundamental problem confronting Western democracies (including Greece) resides, in my view, not primarily in the realm of professional politics but in the domain of the citizenry itself. It is not the politicians—whom we are so readily inclined to blame—who constitute the core difficulty. Rather, it is the citizens who, while declining to assume the responsibilities of political conflict (especially when social and patriotic interests demand it), expect a quasi-magical resolution of their problems from some external saviour—whether a charismatic individual or an institution (the judiciary, technology, figures such as Trump, and so forth). These same citizens thereby leave unchecked the very forces that may, on occasion, exploit them excessively. The deeper issue, therefore, is the psychologically and politically infantile condition of the average citizen. What, then, is required? On the one hand, a new sensitivity (in the sense articulated by Herbert Marcuse) that enables perception of manipulation and alienation at both the individual and the societal levels. On the other hand, an unyielding political will oriented toward political and individual autonomy (as formulated by Cornelius Castoriadis). The former cultivates the consciousness necessary to apprehend one’s situation; the latter establishes the recognition that the sole viable remedy lies in political autonomy and in collective, unmanipulated political action undertaken with one’s fellow citizens. All other responses amount, in my estimation, to forms of evasion: the displacement of responsibility, or the plaintive appeal to an unresponsive paternal authority that fails to grant the disciplined child the promised pleasures of the playground or the expensive ice cream. The child remains, and will remain, aggrieved.

Occasionally, moreover, that authority may permit the acquisition of the desired luxury (an automobile, a high-end appliance, costly holidays), producing a temporary satisfaction that reinforces a pathological attachment to the paternal figure itself. Does technology, then, assist democracy or furnish an automatic solution to collective problems? The user of technology—and, regrettably, often even the professional practitioner or the scientist who develops it within the parameters prescribed—fails to grasp its ideological function. Technology is treated instead as a sacred and unquestionable power. For those whose livelihood depends upon it, such an attitude is partially intelligible: they must persuade themselves, and their clients, of its presumed objectivity. Comprehending the ideological component of technology is, however, a demanding undertaking, particularly in an intellectual climate that circumscribes thought and relegates anything outside its boundaries to the status of the eccentric, the outdated, or the irrational. This dimension remains obscure even when one observes that technological development occurs predominantly within private corporations—above all the large-scale conglomerates rather than smaller firms, subcontractors, or start-ups—and is directed by their priorities. Once this ideological dimension is recognised, one becomes still more resolute in advocating caution regarding technology’s application at the most critical juncture of democratic life: the election of political office-holders (parliamentarians, ministers, prime ministers, mayors). Such recognition produces a genuine consciousness of technology’s operative role. The allure of technology is therefore far from innocent. It encourages its deification and thereby places it beyond the reach of criticism. The introduction of specialised technical terminology, memorised from product manuals, is frequently sufficient to terminate discussion—discussion that has, in effect, already been foreclosed without public awareness. Yet the trained and sensitive observer discerns that this is precisely the point at which genuine inquiry must begin: Who controls technology, and what functions does it serve?These remain the decisive questions. Passive users may continue to regard technology as sacred; critical consciousness, however, will not.