The only problem with “The Utopia of Rules” is that you end up wishing you were reading “Bureaucracy: The First 5000 Years” (to coin a title) instead. Well, it probably wouldn’t be called that, since Graeber is more concerned with bureaucracy in the modern world, and in particular the way that our society is the most bureaucratized in history, but it would still be an overview of the subject that would fully flesh out the arguments and tie all the pieces together in a way that “The Utopia of Rules”, constructed as it is largely around two previously-written essays, doesn’t. While the essays have been rewritten to a certain extent to enhance their connection to each other and to the new material in the book, the result feels less like a seamless whole than a series of variations (albeit fascinating and well-written variations) on a theme.
What Graeber is doing, or would be doing in the larger book, is constructing a theory of modern society by examining what he believes to be its most important aspect, bureaucracy. In the U.S., we are accustomed to think of ourselves as a not particularly bureaucratized society -- certainly not when compared to, say, Germany or France -- but that’s only because we have a limited view of who is a bureaucrat. While the category does include various government employees whose job is to push paper around, it also includes private-sector employees whose job is to push paper around, and if the U.S. has fewer of the former it definitely has quite a lot of the latter. As Graeber points out, corporate capitalism is the most highly bureaucratized version of capitalism, and the U.S. is its undisputed champion. To mention one example that Graeber doesn’t cover, employment systems such as those adopted by the U.S., in which employees are paid poorly, given no guarantee of employment, and treated as more or less disposable, require many more middle managers than those which treat their employees well (or at least better). The less of a stake workers feel they have in their job, the larger a disciplinary apparatus is required to keep them performing it, and in the case of American-style corporate capitalism, that means many middle managers performing evaluations of all kinds: in other words, filling out forms. But this idea of bureaucracy as a disciplinary apparatus extends beyond the corporate world to the other class of bureaucrats that we tend not to think of as bureaucrats: police officers (and also, of course, correction officers, private security guards, and all the other members of the vast American security apparatus). The most important point Graeber makes in this book, I think, is that a policeman is just a bureaucrat with a gun. The heroic American image of the police sees them as constantly engaged in the struggle against violent crime, but in reality most interactions between police and civilians involve breaking some bureaucratic rule (usually a motor vehicle violation). As Graeber says, it’s entirely possible to commit an act of violence and never see police involvement (for instance, all the evidence indicates that the vast majority of rapes are never reported), but just try driving anywhere without a license plate and see how long it takes for a cop to stop you. Fundamentally, bureaucracies are about rules; rules need to be enforced; and the word “enforced” contains the word “force” for a reason. Bureaucracy basically amounts to an encoded threat of violence, and many of Graeber’s strongest points have to do with the way he insists on the continuing importance of violence, either real or implied, in the governing of society. Sure, Foucaultian ideas about the power of, well, ideas are not entirely wrong, but nonetheless most of the power of the state still comes down to the fact that if you break its rules, it will hurt you.
The rest of the book explores various facets of bureaucracy. The middle essay, “On Flying Cars and the Declining Rate of Profit”, is a theory of neoliberalism, approached via the intersection of bureaucracy and technology. Here, Graeber asks an obvious question: much of what the great science-fiction writers of the late 19th and early 20th century — Verne, Wells, etc. — conceived of as the likely technological shape of the near future ended up coming true, in one way or another, within about 50 years. (Ok, fine, the world was never invaded by Martians, and nobody built a time machine, but rocket ships for travel to the moon, to take just one example, do exist.) A priori, there’s no reason to believe that the science-fiction writers of one era are smarter than those of another: why, then, have we massively failed to achieve the futures conceived of by subsequent science fiction writers? Computers are nice, sure, but where are the robot factories, moon colonies, and flying cars that many people confidently assumed were just around the corner 50 or 60 years ago? (Even computers are still not nearly as smart as science-fiction writers confidently assumed they soon would be.) Graeber’s answer is, essentially, that they don’t fit the modern, bureaucratic state, which is only interested in technologies that perpetuate itself: in particular, the computer is the great technology of our era because it is the world’s most efficient platform for the filling out of forms (thus also tending to suppress other potential uses of it). The essay also covers the economics of Star Trek, the offshoring of manufacturing, and the bureaucratization of academia, among other topics, all of which are swept into the argument in a way that makes you wonder why you never saw the connection before.
Even more interesting is the book’s third essay, which delves into the reason why we have so much bureaucracy. Graeber makes his argument by contrasting “play” and “games”: the former is free-form, ready to go in any direction at all (think Calvinball), while the latter has well-defined rules that strictly restrict the action. Which makes play sound great, until you remember that “play” is also what a cat does with a mouse before it eats it. If there are no rules, well, there are no rules, and that’s not always a good thing. Rules are necessary, we feel, to prevent the kind of play that involves the unrestricted wielding of power without heed for others: hence the well-known phenomenon of children who, given the opportunity to play freely without restrictions, end up arguing over the rules they will play by. And if there are to be rules, they must be enforced somehow, or else they are meaningless, and thus it is that you end up not just with bureaucracy but with people actively demanding ever more bureaucracy. If we can just come up with one more rule, we think, we can finally prevent people from taking unfair advantage of whatever position they have, and thus at long last create the perfect society, Graeber’s titular utopia. Of course, one of the defining features of a bureaucracy is that its rules, though in theory meant to promote fairness, do nothing of the sort: those who know how to navigate the bureaucracy make it work in their favor, those who don’t get left behind, and the actual intent of the rules the bureaucracy is supposed to be enforcing quickly gets lost. Nonetheless, the idea of the utopia remains dear to our hearts, an idea that, Graeber argues, will never really be overcome.
And I’ve still only scratched the surface: “The Utopia of Rules” is full of fascinating insights and interesting arguments. The “Iron Law of Liberalism”, that any reform intended to free up the market to do its work invariably results in the proliferation of a new class of bureaucrat, must be mentioned at least briefly (did you know that the Russian state employs more bureaucrats now than the USSR ever did, even though it has only about half the population?). I have given far less attention to the arguments about philosophical labor in the second section of the book than they deserve. And the final essay, on the “The Dark Knight Rises”, is also well worth reading even if only tangentially related to the rest of the book. It should also be noted that Graeber is a really good writer: he uses a friendly, semi-informal style which leaves room for jokes and sarcasm and makes reasonably complex topics simple. In particular, his avoidance of the kind of academic jargon that left-wing professors deploy all too often is extremely welcome. My only real complaint, again, is that “The Utopia of Rules” could easily be twice as long as it is to make a fuller approach at evaluating its subject. Graeber is a busy guy, of course, but hopefully this project is somewhere on the back burner.