top of page

On the Genesis of Populism in Late Modernity: Homogeneity and Claustrophobia

Max Schmermbeck

This text makes up the second – and thereby final – part of my investigation into the genesis of populism in late modernity. In the first installation of this project, I linked the notion of populism to complexity and psychosis, arguing that populism is a reaction-formation to the epistemic and epistemological impenetrability of contemporary reality. Populist rhetoric thereby reaches beyond the realm of politics, because it represents the attempt to find solid ground within a world that is becoming increasingly more complex and difficult to navigate. It is a way to restore the world-as-reality through myth, story and fantasy, which is formally similar to the genesis of psychosis from an existential point of view. Both are practices of world-building, albeit in different ways and with different outcomes.


In this text, I take the opposite route. I argue that populism isn’t a reaction-formation to the complexity and chaos of contemporary reality, but rather to the bland homogeneity and predictability that has infused every aspect of daily life under modern capitalism. The problem is not that things are too complex or that changes occur at a too rapid pace, but that they are too similar, interchangeable, and static. Roaming the existential territory of a world saturated with universal brands, pre-approved entertainment and ready-made consumptive goods, people long for something that is truly ‘theirs’, something that gives them a sense of belonging and worldliness. On this view, the Grundstimmung of late capitalism isn’t confusion or ambiguity, but claustrophobia: the feeling of being trapped in what Byung Chul-Han calls “the hell of the same.” There is a tacit feeling that our society’s conception of ‘freedom’ is mostly freedom of consumption, the ‘free’ choice to buy one product rather than another. But surrendering to this kind of freedom has resulted in a world of unprecedented homogeneity and cultural sterility. Hence, people are gasping for fresh air. Populism, with its strong rhetoric about sovereign nations, peoples, homelands and borders, has managed to co-opt this desire by promising people a world that is truly and rightfully ‘theirs’.


This testifies to both the strength and weakness of populist movements. It shows that populism is rooted in something much deeper than politics, a general sense of dissatisfaction that arises from systemic and structural problems rather than political disagreements. It is therefore also a phenomenon that is here to stay, for these problems are not easily solved. However, it also shows that it is possible for political movements to tap into the streams of desire for liberation that circulate amongst large swaths of the population. Consequently, the left has the chance to re-frame this issue by re-politicizing and de-naturalizing modern life, showing that our misery is not caused by immigrants, Muslims or the ‘woke’ left, but by the unprecedented control of megacorporations on virtually all aspects of society.

 

No Logo

In order to better understand the relationship between capitalism and populism, we first have to reconsider the current state of affairs within our economic system. It is striking that our conception of companies often remains tied to their historical role as factories, a notion that originated in the industrial revolution. We still think of companies as entities that produce goods which are sold for their utility on the open market. The rules of the market are supply and demand, and the company which makes the best products for the best price has the most sales. Following the Marxist theory of surplus value, companies are then able to make a profit by separating producers from products and selling goods for a higher price than what it costs to make them. This profit goes towards the capitalists, who hold the real power in society because they own the means of production.


Landmark works of critical theory like Naomi Klein’s No Logo, Zygmunt Bauman’s Liquid Modernity, Jean Baudrillard’s Simulacra and Simulation and Gilles Deleuze’s “Postscript on the Societies of Control” show that this epoch of capitalism has long passed. Capitalism no longer revolves around the goods or services that companies produce, but rather around their brand. Consumers must associate that brand with an experience that fits a certain lifestyle: Apple users are creative and progressive, people who wear Nike embody perseverance and suffering, Carhartt is for hip young fashionistas and users of Rituals shampoo are in touch with nature, selfcare and sustainability. It’s not about what the product actually does, but about the feeling that it evokes and the sense of identity that it reinforces. Marketing, rather than production, has become the center of gravity in contemporary capitalism. As Deleuze writes: “Marketing has become the center or the "soul" of the corporation. We are taught that corporations have a soul, which is the most terrifying news in the world.”


According to Klein, the changed locus of capitalism has impacted our daily lives in ways of which we are largely unaware, but which are nonetheless incredibly real. It has resulted in a paradoxical situation where “the world of things” (materials, employees, factories, salaries) is no longer the necessary condition for companies to exist, but rather their obstacle. The goal of the modern company, Klein writes, is to “become as weightless as possible: whoever owns the least, has the fewest employees on the payroll, and creates the most powerful images – rather than products – wins.” As budgets for marketing skyrocket, production is outsourced to sweatshops in Asia and Africa, and large-scale mergers create massive conglomerates by usurping local shops and independent businesses. Over time, the world becomes ‘branded’: a spectacle of self-referential signs, brands and logos without any material grounding. As Deleuze writes, “the factory was a body that contained its internal forces at a level of equilibrium, the highest possible in terms of production, the lowest possible in terms of wages; but in a society of control, the corporation has replaced the factory, and the corporation is a spirit, a gas.”


One of the key insights of this critique is that modern companies, despite their consistent praise of diversity, creativity and difference, in reality all adhere to the dictum that one-size-fits-all. After all, it is far more profitable to only create one brand for all markets than to tailor to the specific needs of different cultures. McDonalds, Apple, Starbucks, Ikea, you name it: their stores are pretty much identical regardless of whether they are located in London, Bangkok or Rio de Janeiro. Brands must be clean, streamlined and – most of all – recognizable. Klein summarizes the modern business strategy as follows: “Force the world to speak your language and adopt your culture.” In other words, in order to establish a brand, predictability and homogeneity are key. There must be no surprises, because only if you keep your brand static across time and place, you maximize profitability.


There is, of course, some change and diversity within markets dominated by gigantic conglomerations, but virtually all of it is prepackaged, tested for maximum impact and approved by marketing executives long before it reaches the market. Contemporary culture, Klein writes, is a monologue. It is something that happens to you, but not something you actively participate in. This is what Jean Baudrillard calls ‘hyperreality’, where “entertainment, information, and communication technologies provide experiences more intense and involving than the scenes of banal everyday life, as well as the codes and models that structure everyday life.” Life in hyperreality is marked by a paradox: it is simultaneously superficial and ‘more real than real’. It is a world of plastic ecstasy, where subjects flee from high to high, experience to experience, and identity to identity. Everybody wants to be different, because everything is the same.

 

Technocratic Politics

On the level of politics, processes of streamlining and homogenization can also be identified, albeit in a different context. In his work Waardenloze Politiek (which roughly translates as ‘value-free politics’), political scientist Tom van der Meer argues that Dutch politics is no longer an open market of ideas where rivalling parties offer original perspectives on society, humanity and the world at large. The political landscape has turned into a specialized arena where experts discuss the judicial nooks-and-crannies of policies rather than values and ideologies. He writes:

 

Since the 1980s, many traditional parties have been chasing voters in the political center. In their search for a larger following, these parties moved to the center. They shed their sharpest edges, switched to no-nonsense politics, transformed themselves into the reasonable alternative and shed their ideological feathers. They succeeded so well that voters are now less able to see clear differences between political parties. The irony is that the center parties have made themselves interchangeable in an attempt to make themselves attractive to the broadest possible following.

 

Just like the sterile logos of multinational companies are aimed at maximizing revenue across all markets, ideologically watered-down political parties are solution-driven organizations aimed at maximizing votes. Modern movies must be ‘family friendly’ in order to be consumed by the largest possible demographic, and political programs must be ‘voter friendly’ to make sure that no feathers are ruffled and no voters alienated.


As van der Meer observes, the irony is that this has created the opposite effect of what was originally intended. Because political parties try to appeal to everyone, they appeal to no one in particular. They no longer have a strong identity shaped by commitment to ideas and values, but shape their programs according to maximum efficiency. Therefore, they are forced to participate in the debate as it is framed by other parties (as can be observed by the Dutch left accepting the migration-frame set up by the far right) rather than create their own agenda. What this opportunistic style of appeal-based politics overlooks, is that people crave political parties with original ideas and clear values, even if those values are controversial. Politics are not just about reason and efficiency, they are also (or even mostly) about emotion and feeling. As van der Meer states:

 

Democracy is unthinkable without conflict. Conflict offers voters choice, enables political parties to distinguish themselves and gives direction to policy. Without conflict there are no alternatives, nothing to choose from and democracy withers. Democracy cannot deal with such a vacuum. If voters are not offered alternatives in the political centre, they will find them on the flanks.

 

Desire and/as progress

An aura of inevitability and acceptance has dominated politics and culture for a long time. Reality was, to a large extent, depoliticized and we simply had to accept the situation we were in. The resurgence of populism across the world shows that this paradigm has slowly started to shift, and that dissatisfied and disenfranchised people are voicing their anger in large numbers. Populist parties have managed to translate this energy into reactionary politics through fearmongering and scapegoating, creating a dialectic which underlies the genesis of populism in late modernity: the feeling of anxiety and claustrophobia that arises as a result of homogeneity and sameness breeds the desire to find alternatives, a free space for liberation, something different.


Klein and Deleuze teach us that this desire can also be harnessed in favour of progressive politics. We must re-politicize and de-naturalize our modern condition by showing that it is in no way inevitable or unchangeable, but untenable and absurd. As Klein convincingly argues, our current situation is the result of choices made by people in power. Hence, these people can – at least theoretically – be pressured to make different decisions, to finally represent their constituents rather than the interests of capital.


Because the enemy has infused virtually every aspect of our society, we must be modest. Our goals cannot (yet) lie in a complete dismantling of the system or the ushering of a new society. We have to let go of our utopian dreams. But what we can do, is to let people feel what it’s like to experience a different kind of freedom and self-determination, one that reaches beyond consumer choice. Not by rejecting the present, but by breaking it open. Dance in the street. Protest. Upset. Scramble. Create the spaces of freedom that you long for, here and now. Don’t wait for those in power to start making changes, because they have shown us time and time again that they either actively participate in keeping the system alive or are entirely clueless as to how to dismantle it. Re-claim your freedom, and don’t wait for approval. As Mark Fisher beautifully writes, “the tiniest event can tear a hole in the grey curtain of reaction which has marked the horizons of possibility under capitalist realism.’” It is up to the new generation of progressives to start looking for these holes in the grey curtain of reaction, and to tear them wide open.

 

Sources

Gilles Deleuze, “Postscript on the Societies of Control,” 1992.

Jean Baudrillard, Simulacra and Simulation, 1994.

Naomi Klein, No Logo, 1999.

Zygmunt Bauman, Liquid Modernity, 2000.

Mark Fisher, Capitalist Realism: Is there no Alternative?, 2009.

Byung Chul-Han, The Burnout Society, 2015.

Marian Donner, “De hel van het gelijke,” De Groene Amsterdammer, June 2023.

Tom van der Meer, Waardenloze Politiek, 2024.

0 comments

Comments


bottom of page