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>From NewCriterion
www.newcriterion.com/text/kimball.htm
What the Sixties wrought
by Roger Kimball
------------------------------------------------------------------------
�One is clever and knows everything that has ever happened: so there is no
end of derision. One still quarrels, but one is soon reconciled� else it
might spoil the digestion.
�One has one�s little pleasure for the day and one�s little pleasure for
the night, but one has a regard for health.
��We have invented happiness,� say the last men, and they blink.�
�Friedrich Nietzsche
We have here the peculiarly American way of digesting continental despair.
It is nihilism with a happy ending.
�Allan Bloom
Where�s the outrage?
�Bob Dole
The Sixties, it seems, have become less the name of a decade than a
provocation. As a slice of history, the purple decade actually encompasses
nearly twenty years. It begins some time in the 1950s and lasts at least
until the mid-1970s. And it means�what? Sexual �liberation,� rock music,
chemically induced euphoria�nearly everyone would agree with that, even
though some would inscribe a plus sign, others a minus sign beside that
famous triumvirate. The Sixties also mean protest, the �youth culture,� and
a new permissiveness together with a new affluence: Dionysus with a bank
balance and a cause. For all its garishness, however, the spirit of the
Sixties tends to live on and to reveal itself most clearly in a negative
not a positive sense: not in what it champions so much as in what it
undermines, what it corrodes. In many respects, the Sixties really did
amount to a counter-culture: a repudiation, an inversion of the
Fifties�another period that lives on as a provocation. As we approach the
end of the century and a new millennium, the question of what the Sixties
wrought is far from settled. Indeed, it has lately assumed a new urgency as
it becomes ever clearer that American culture is deeply riven along fault
lines first defi
>From NewCriterion
www.newcriterion.com/text/kimball.htm
What the Sixties wrought
by Roger Kimball
------------------------------------------------------------------------
�One is clever and knows everything that has ever happened: so there is no
end of derision. One still quarrels, but one is soon reconciled� else it
might spoil the digestion.
�One has one�s little pleasure for the day and one�s little pleasure for
the night, but one has a regard for health.
��We have invented happiness,� say the last men, and they blink.�
�Friedrich Nietzsche
We have here the peculiarly American way of digesting continental despair.
It is nihilism with a happy ending.
�Allan Bloom
Where�s the outrage?
�Bob Dole
The Sixties, it seems, have become less the name of a decade than a
provocation. As a slice of history, the purple decade actually encompasses
nearly twenty years. It begins some time in the 1950s and lasts at least
until the mid-1970s. And it means�what? Sexual �liberation,� rock music,
chemically induced euphoria�nearly everyone would agree with that, even
though some would inscribe a plus sign, others a minus sign beside that
famous triumvirate. The Sixties also mean protest, the �youth culture,� and
a new permissiveness together with a new affluence: Dionysus with a bank
balance and a cause. For all its garishness, however, the spirit of the
Sixties tends to live on and to reveal itself most clearly in a negative
not a positive sense: not in what it champions so much as in what it
undermines, what it corrodes. In many respects, the Sixties really did
amount to a counter-culture: a repudiation, an inversion of the
Fifties�another period that lives on as a provocation. As we approach the
end of the century and a new millennium, the question of what the Sixties
wrought is far from settled. Indeed, it has lately assumed a new urgency as
it becomes ever clearer that American culture is deeply riven along fault
lines first defined by the reverberations of that long, percussive decade.
In his huge compendium on the Sixties, 1 the British social historian
Arthur Marwick offers a kind of international sourcebook of exemplary
texts, trends, and events from about 1958 through about 1974�his definition
of the �long decade� that constituted the Sixties. It is an odd book. There
is nearly as much about the evolution of English laws regulating the sale
of alcoholic beverages as there is about the Beatles and rock music. The
social-science apparatus is wheeled on early and often. The reader
encounters sixteen �Characteristics of a Unique Era� (�the formation of new
subcultures and movements,� �upheavals in race, class, and family
relationships,� etc.) as well as numerous statistical summaries and charts:
there is, for example, a chart indicating the percentage of Italian
families who owned television sets, refrigerators, and washing machines in
1965 as compared with 1975 (more later than earlier) and a chart comparing
the relative popularity in France of watching television and going out in
the evening in 1967 and 1973 (ditto). Eight-hundred pages of such stuff are
reinforced by one-hundred pages of notes and index.
Mr. Marwick makes a great show of being the careful, �scientific�
historian, concerned with sources and evidence, not �metaphysical�
theories. He begins with a good deal of methodological throat-clearing:
just what counts as an historical period? What really constitutes
historical influence?�that sort of thing. This is harmless enough, no
doubt. But one might have had more faith in Mr. Marwick�s scientific
aptitude had the left-wing journalist Paul Berman not appeared as Professor
Paul Bearman on page four of The Sixties, endowed not only with a new name
and a professorship but also with �a strongly hostile view of the radicals
of the sixties.� Hostile? �We ourselves,� Mr. Berman wrote in A Tale of Two
Utopias, the book to which Mr. Marwick refers in his notes, �stood at the
heart of a new society . . . of spiritual grandeur. . . . Something
soulful. A moral advance. And in the glow of the very grand and utopian
idea, a thousand disparate events from around the world�the student
uprisings, the hippie experiments, the religious transformations,� &c. Not
exactly everyone�s idea of hostile.
In many ways, what Mr. Marwick has produced is less a book than a
sociologico-historical grab-bag. Nevertheless, The Sixties offers both an
argument and a mood. The mood is captured by the montages Mr. Marwick
offers of the Fifties and the Sixties in his opening pages. It is not all
that different from the mood evoked by Mr. Berman. The Sixties, Mr. Marwick
writes, prominently featured
black civil rights; youth culture and trend-setting by young people;
idealism, protest, and rebellion; the triumph of popular music based on
Afro-American models and the emergence of this music as a universal
language; . . . the search for inspiration in the religions of the Orient;
massive changes in personal relationships and sexual behaviour; a general
audacity and frankness in books and in the media, and in ordinary
behaviour; gay liberation; the emergence of �the underground� and the
�counterculture�; optimism and genuine faith in the dawning of a better
world.
All of which is to be contrasted with the Fifties, a dark, uncreative time
whose �key features� include
rigid social hierarchy; subordination of women to men and children to
parents; repressed attitudes to sex; racism; unquestioning respect for
authority in the family, education, government, the law, and religion, and
for the nation-state, the national flag, the national anthem; Cold War
hysteria; a strict formalism in language, etiquette, and dress codes; a
dull and clich�-ridden popular culture, most obviously in popular music,
with its boring big bands and banal ballads.
Mr. Marwick is quick to add that �of course� a conservative would regard
the Fifties quite differently. And he admits along the way that much of
what was done in the name of the Sixties �was downright stupid� (the
violence, the �mindless� drug-use). But in mood, The Sixties adheres
closely to the standard left-wing account: Sixties good, Fifties bad.
Toward the end of the book, in a few sentences remarkable as much for their
baldness as for their na�vet�, Mr. Marwick sums up his attitude:
Life became more various and enjoyable. With less rigid conceptions of
marriage and new opportunities for divorce, with changing attitudes to
fashion and to education, with the abandonment of comfortable fictions
about the nature of beauty and the arrival of informal, body-hugging
clothing, there was a healthier openness to ordinary living, less need for
lies.�.�.�. Gone was the stuffy conservatism of previous decades, while the
radical, divisive, philistine conservatism of Reagan and Thatcher was yet
to come.
It is an excellent thing that Mr. Marwick early on warned us that �It is
very important not to get into the position of idealizing, reifying, or
anthropomorphizing periods or decades, attributing personalities to them,
singling out �good� decades from �bad� decades.� The unsuspecting reader
must be grateful for that warning: otherwise he might think Mr. Marwick was
doing just that.
There is, however, another side to The Sixties. If in many respects it
embodies the established liberal clich�s about the delights of the Age of
Aquarius and the depredations of the years before and after, it also
challenges at least two important elements of the received story. For one
thing, Mr. Marwick has no patience with what he calls the Great Marxisant
Fallacy. He describes this as �the belief that the society we inhabit is
the bad bourgeois society, but that, fortunately, this society is in a
state of crisis, so that the good society which lies just around the corner
can be easily attained if only we work systematically to destroy the
language, the values, the culture, the ideology of bourgeois society.�
As Mr. Marwick notes, �Practically all the activists, student protesters,
hippies, yippies, Situationists, advocates of psychedelic liberation,
participants in be-ins and rock festivals, proponents of free love, members
of the underground, and advocates of Black Power, women�s liberation, and
gay liberation believed that by engaging in struggles, giving witness, or
simply doing their own thing they were contributing to the final collapse
of the bad bourgeois society.� Or so they said. Revolution in this sense
was never more than a pipe dream�partly because, as Mr. Marwick notes,
modern liberal societies are not the monolithic entities that the radicals
and would-be radicals pretended they were. Liberal society�it is part of
its genius�tends to absorb opposition instead of rejecting it outright.
This does not mean that the cultural revolution did not happen, only that
in the end it succeeded by insinuation rather than insurrection. As Mr.
Marwick puts it, �The various counter-cultural movements and subcultures,
being ineluctably implicated in and interrelated with mainstream society�
did not so much confront that society as they �permeated and transformed
it.� Exactly.
And this brings us to Mr. Marwick�s second challenge. The counterculture of
the Sixties is often described as idealistic, utopian, and anti- or
non-materialistic. Doubtless there were utopian and idealistic elements.
Yet in retrospect we can see that most were so tightly interwoven with
na�vet� and simple hedonism that neither �utopian� nor �idealistic� seems
quite the mot juste. And although there was a great deal of rhetoric about
the evils of materialism, it is now clear that there had hitherto never
been a generation so blissfully immersed in consumerism. The 1980s and
1990s may have perfected the genre. But it was the counterculture of the
Sixties� supported by the unprecedented abundance the mainstream economy
provided�that succeeded in first spreading the gospel. As Mr. Marwick
notes, �most of the movements, subcultures, and new institutions which are
at the heart of sixties change were thoroughly imbued with the
entrepreneurial, profit-making ethic.� All those boutiques, experimental
theaters, art galleries, discoth�ques, nightclubs, light shows, head shops,
pornographic outlets, and underground films may have challenged the morals,
manners, and standards of taste and accomplishment of bourgeois capitalist
society. But they did so while profiting generously from its largesse.
Mr. Marwick is quite happy about all this. In his view, the international
movement that �permeated� and �transformed� society constituted a
�mini-Renaissance,� with the Beatles, miniskirts, and the art of Andy
Warhol having contributed �their mite to the people�s liberation.�
Everywhere, people were richer, �franker� (a favorite commendation), and
more intent upon pursuing pleasure:
All the statistical evidence suggests that permissive attitudes and
permissive behaviour continued to spread at accelerating rates, with only
the utterly unforeseen occurrence of AIDS to bring any kind of caution;
single-parent families proliferated, the terms �husband� and �wife� became
almost quaint, giving place to �lover� and �partner.� . . . The appearance,
also, of moralistic crusades simply testifies to the strength of the by now
well-established behaviour patterns which the crusades, vainly, hoped to
eliminate. The cultural revolution, in short, had continuous,
uninterrupted, and lasting consequences.
Of course, Mr. Marwick is right. The only question is whether we are
justified in taking so cheery a view of the results. Again, Mr. Marwick
sounds various cautionary notes; he is disturbed by the phenomenon of
political correctness; he notes that the Sixties brought various
undesirable excesses. But overall he is a cheerleader for the
�multicultural societies� that �exhibit to the full the vibrancy and
creative potential which first bloomed in the sixties.�
Mr. Marwick�s basic mistake is believing that more is necessarily better.
Sometimes more is only more. You cannot step a foot into the literature
about the 1960s without encountering the phrase �creative potential� and
being told ad nauseam that not only was the decade �idealistic,� it was
also terrifically �creative,� especially in comparison to the 1950s. In
fact, the �idealism� of the 1960s was nine-parts self-infatuation and its
creativity was seldom more than adolescent flurry. What Allan Bloom said in
comparing American universities in the 1950s to those of the 1960s can
easily be generalized to apply to the culture as a whole: �The fifties,�
Bloom wrote, �were one of the great periods of the American university.�
They had recently benefitted from an enlivening infusion of European talent
and �were steeped in the general vision of humane education inspired by
Kant and Goethe.� The Sixties, by contrast, �were the period of dogmatic
answers and trivial tracts. Not a single book of lasting importance was
produced in or around the movement. It was all Norman O. Brown and Charles
Reich. This was when the real conformism hit the universities, when
opinions about everything from God to the movies became absolutely
predictable.� Notwithstanding Mr. Marwick�s contemptuous remark about the
music of the �boring big bands,� this was true in virtually every
department of intellectual and cultural life. The Sixties saw a tremendous
amount of activity but precious little real accomplishment.
They did, however, see an astonishing explosion of material prosperity. Mr.
Marwick alludes regularly to that fact, he pets and caresses it, he
produces it whenever he attempts to justify his claims on behalf of the
achievements of the period. To be sure, material prosperity is a nice
thing, a very nice thing. But it does not guarantee cultural health or
moral vigor. The culture of the 1990s has served as a vivid reminder of
this home truth. We�the industrialized, technologized world�have never been
richer. And yet to an extraordinary extent we in the West continue to
inhabit a moral and cultural universe shaped by the hedonistic imperatives
and radical ideals of the Sixties. Culturally, morally the world we inhabit
is is increasingly a trash world: addicted to sensation, besieged
everywhere by the cacophonous, mind-numbing din of rock music, saturated
with pornography, in thrall to the lowest common denominator wherever
questions of taste, manners, or intellectual delicacy are concerned. Mr.
Marwick was right: �The cultural revolution, in short, had continuous,
uninterrupted, and lasting consequences.�
It is hardly surprising that conservatives have traditionally been highly
critical of that revolution. Its ethic of self-gratification stood in stark
opposition to the moral, intellectual, and political fabric of our culture.
The wrinkle was abundance. For if the Sixties were an assault on the moral
substance of traditional culture, they nonetheless abetted the capitalist
culture of accumulation. Yes, there are exceptions, but they are
unimportant to the overall pciture. Indeed, it happened that the cultural
revolution was most damaging precisely where, in material terms, it was
most successful. This put many conservatives in an awkward position. For
conservatives have long understood that free markets and political liberty
go together. What if it turned out that free markets plus the cultural
revolution of the Sixties added up to moral and intellectual poverty? This
unhappy thought has lately been the subject of much discussion and
disagreement. Among those identified as conservatives, the two most popular
responses at the moment seem to be retreat and denial. Both are mistaken.
Probably the most vivid example of the counsel of retreat is the
now-notorious open letter written by the conservative activist Paul Weyrich
to his friends and supporters. Dated February 16, 1999, this poignant,
eighteen-hundred word document is clearly the product of profound
disillusionment bordering on despair. Over the last few decades, Mr.
Weyrich has done an enormous amount to promote the conservative agenda. He
has been instrumental in helping many conservative candidates get elected.
It was he who popularized the phrase �moral majority.� And yet the
impressive political victories he helped to win have clearly not translated
into moral or cultural victories. If anything, the culture today is in
worse shape than in 1980 when Ronald Reagan was elected: �our culture,� Mr.
Weyrich argues, �has decayed into something approaching barbarism.� The
reason? �Politics itself has failed. And politics has failed because of the
collapse of the culture. The culture we are living in becomes an ever-wider
sewer. In truth, I think we are caught up in a cultural collapse of
historic proportions, a collapse so great that it simply overwhelms
politics.�
Mr. Weyrich began with a faith in the moral wisdom of the majority of
American people. That faith has been broken.
Let me be perfectly frank about it. If there really were a moral majority
out there, Bill Clinton would have been driven out of office months ago. It
is not only the lack of political will on the part of Republicans, although
that is part of the problem. More powerful is the fact that what Americans
would have found absolutely intolerable only a few years ago, a majority
now not only tolerates but celebrates. Americans have adopted, in large
measure, the MTV culture that we so valiantly opposed just a few years ago,
and it has permeated the thinking of all but those who have separated
themselves from the contemporary culture.
Mr. Weyrich may overstate his case. The MTV culture that he rightly
deplores may not have permeated the thinking of quite �all� who have failed
to exempt themselves from contemporary culture. And it should be noted that
he issues various qualifications and expressions of tentativeness (�I don�t
have all the answers or even all the questions�). But by and large I think
it must be admitted that his unhappy diagnosis is right. At the deepest
level�at the level of the culture�s taken-for-granted feelings and
assumptions about what matters�the hedonistic, self-infatuated ethos of
cultural revolution has triumphed to an extent unimaginable when it began.
What is the appropriate response? Mr. Weyrich�s �frankly rather radical�
proposal is what we might call the survivalist option: opt out, take to the
hills. �What seems to me a legitimate strategy,� he writes, �is to look at
ways to separate ourselves from the institutions that have been captured by
the ideology of Political Correctness, or by other enemies of our
traditional culture.� Some of Mr. Weyrich�s suggestions are more plausible
than others. Homeschooling, for example, has proven to be an attractive
alternative for many families around the country who are appalled by the
extent to which both public and private schools have been dumbed-down and
have been captured by the ideology of political correctness. But what about
his praise for those �setting up private courts, where they can hope to
find justice instead of ideology and greed�? Do we really want to encourage
efforts to establish a �private� judiciary?
In the last year or so, certain liberals have adopted the strategy of
attacking conservatives for aping the radical tactics and anti-Americanism
of the 1960s. Although the attack is often ludicrously wide of the mark, it
has been enormously popular. Liberals understandably enjoy beating
conservatives with the stick that only yesterday was wielded so effectively
against them. Regrettably, Mr. Weyrich has given his enemies plenty of
ammunition for such attacks. Rhetorically and substantively, the most
ill-judged part of his letter comes in the peroration when he advocates
adopting a �modified version� of the radical slogan �turn on, tune in, drop
out.� It doesn�t matter that Mr. Weyrich wants us to turn off our
television sets rather than turn on with drugs, or that he advises us to
�tune out� the ambient noise of cultural degradation. What catches
everyone�s attention is his endorsement in any form of Timothy Leary�s
infamous slogan and his final plea that we �drop out of this culture.�
As could have been predicted, Mr. Weyrich�s letter created a journalistic
firestorm. Liberals savored the evidence of capitulation it seemed to
suggest; conservatives for the most part shrank back in appalled silence
from the spectacle of political suicide. For his part, Mr. Weyrich later
declared that �we�re not surrendering�we�re opening a different front.� It
remains to be seen how effective his protestation will be.
Even if one strenuously disagrees with Mr. Weyrich�s prescriptions, his
seriousness and the pathos of his response make his letter a moving
document. Here is a man who has fought long and hard for values he believes
in deeply. He may be mistaken; he is not supercilious. I wish I could say
the same about the conservatives who have adopted the strategy of denial.
If Mr. Weyrich errs on the side of petulance� threatening to go home and
take his marbles with him if the game is not played his way�the happy
conservatives neither see nor hear nor speak any evil so long as there is a
game going and they are allowed to play. Looking around at our astonishing
prosperity, they respond (in answer to Bob Dole�s plaintive question) �Who
needs outrage? We�re doing fine, thanks.�
The latest salvo from the camp of contentment is �Good & Plenty: Morality
in an Age of Prosperity,� the cover story for the February 1 issue of The
Weekly Standard. It is an extraordinary performance. Written by David
Brooks, a senior editor at the Standard, �Good & Plenty� is an unashamed
paean to philistinism. It seems entirely appropriate that its title recalls
a popular brand of candy. Mr. Brooks has nothing but sweet things to say
about our cultural situation. He opens his essay by telling us about a trip
he made to a small town in northeast Connecticut. �I asked some of the
older residents whether the cultural upheavals of the 1960s had affected
the town much. They didn�t know what I was talking about. They remember the
sixties as a golden age when jobs were plentiful and the factories were
buzzing.� Doubtless they did. And so?
One of Mr. Brooks�s main points is that �we shouldn�t leap to conclusions
about the supposed degradation of our culture.� That little town he visited
was up in arms about a porn shop that had opened down the street. But the
town�s newfound prosperity came largely from a local gambling casino: so
they are tough on smut but welcome gambling. According to Mr. Brooks, the
situation in our culture is like a mixed day in the stock market: some are
up, some are down. It is �hard to tell whether the aggregate effect is
positive or negative.� Besides, we shouldn�t ignore �all the social
indicators that are moving in the right direction: abortion rates are
declining, crime is down, teenage sexual activity is down, divorce rates
are dropping.�
Possibly. But as the historian Gertrude Himmelfarb pointed out recently in
�The Panglosses of the Right Are Wrong� (The Wall Street Journal, February
4),
For almost every favorable statistic, an ornery conservative can cite an
unfavorable one. He can even go beyond the statistics to point to the sorry
state of the culture: the loss of parental authority and of discipline in
the schools, the violence and vulgarity of television, the obscenity and
sadism of rap music, the exhibitionism and narcissism of talk-shows, the
pornography and sexual perversions on the Internet, the binge-drinking and
�hooking up� on college campuses.
And so on. If none of that has made much of an impression on Mr. Brooks, it
is because he wants to scrap all such moral considerations anyway and
replace them with pragmatic, �utilitarian� tests. He notes with approval
the extent to which society has recast moral�his word is
�moralistic��language in terms of health and safety. Today, he writes, �we
regulate behavior and control carnal desires with health codes instead of
moral codes. Today in mainstream society, people seldom object to others�
taking the Lord�s name in vain�but watch out if they see a pregnant woman
smoking or drinking.� Note the use of �mainstream��we reasonable people,
you understand, do not worry about morals per se: that�s for those poor
fanatics who still get riled about something as outmoded as blasphemy. We
enlightened pragmatists are beyond all that.
Mr. Brooks acknowledges that many people might consider �Morality as mere
healthism . . . meager, superficial.� But really, he says, in these �happy,
prosperous times� �people��i.e., people like Mr. Brooks�have decided that
they �want a lower-case morality that will not arouse passions or upset the
applecart.� So what if we have a moral pygmy in the White House? Those good
folks from Connecticut agreed that �personal behavior has no connection
with public performance.� What about the continuing depredations of the
culture revolution? �No cause for alarm,� Mr. Brooks says: �the
counterculture has nothing to do� with contemporary life in America. The
counterculture of the 1960s, he assures us, was �utopian� whereas �Today�s
moral attitudes are anti-utopian. They are utilitarian. They are modest.
They are, in fact, the values of the class the counterculture hated most.
They are the values of the bourgeoisie.� The nineteenth century essayist
Walter Bagehot famously said that �the essence of civilization . . . is
dullness.� How surprised he would have been to find himself taken so
literally.
A lot of nasty things have been said about the bourgeoisie over the years.
But few people can hold that class in deeper contempt than does Mr. Brooks,
for all his praise. According to him, the bourgeois doesn�t want to bother
with �grand abstractions,� he is �never heroic� and �has no grandeur,� he
�never seem[s] to look up from quotidian concerns to grapple with great
truths or profound moral issues.� At most this modern Polonius is �modest,
useful, and reliable.� If this is �utilitarian,� no wonder Russell Kirk
described utilitarianism as �a philosophy of death.� Mr. Brooks wants us to
celebrate this stunted caricature because, after all, conservatives have
always championed the bourgeoisie. But what conservatives have
traditionally championed were bourgeois values not bourgeois vices. And
those values were rooted deeply in a God-fearing Protestant ethic that
emphasized church, community, family, and moral honor. The bourgeois ethic
is not a form of Romanticism, true enough; but neither is it the vacuous,
feel-good, �I�ve-got-mine� philosophy Mr. Brooks apparently wants us to
embrace. Irving Kristol once wrote that �if you believe that a comfortable
life is not necessarily the same thing as a good life, or even a meaningful
life, then it will occur to you that efficiency is a means, not an end in
itself.� Perhaps Mr. Brooks would scoff at such distinctions, branding them
merely �grand,� �abstract,� or �heroic.� If so, what he espouses is not
conservatism but a cheerful, buttoned-down version of the moral vacancy
that Mr. Weyrich rightly laments.
Notes
Go to the top of the document.
1.The Sixties: Cultural Revolution in Britain, France, Italy and the United
States, c.1958�c.1974, by Arthur Marwick; Oxford University Press, 903
pages, $39.95. Go back to text.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
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