For the last few years I’ve been pursuing accidentalism as a theory of economic development. This is a vein of insight that I will continue to mine, as I feel I still have much to learn. But I am fascinated to read Nicholas Carr’s criticism of the theory:
Now, I understand what the Accidentalists are getting at: Technology builds on technology, and at any given time in human history only certain technologies are in the realm of the possible and of those only a subset will actually be developed and put to use. Those technologies will in turn influence the means of production and the modes of consumption both directly (through the characteristics of the technologies themselves) and indirectly (through the economic tradeoffs inherent in using the technologies). Every technology, every means of production, every mode of consumption is hence provisional. Something better or at least cheaper or more convenient may come along tomorrow and displace what we depend on today.
All that’s true. But is it really accurate to describe the process as fundamentally accidental? Does the word “accidental” accurately reflect the complexities of technological and economic development? I don’t think it does. In fact, I think it’s difficult to imagine a poorer choice of word. When you describe an event or a thing as an accident, what you are doing is draining it of all human content. You are saying that human intention and will and desire played no part in its occurrence. A volcano is an accident in human history (if not natural history), and if it’s a big enough one it may well influence the course of that history. But the the book, the printing press, the publishing house, the newspaper, and the newspaper company are not volcanoes. Their development was guided not just by blind circumstance but by human intent and desire. They represent, not just in the abstract but in their concrete forms, something that people wanted and that people consciously brought into being, for human purposes.
I don’t think it is right to say that an event or development is drained of its human component when we call it an accident. Doris Lessing has said that it is part of human nature to be, at all times, in rebellion against circumstance (she said this, I believe, in her book Prisons We Chose To Live Inside). When I read that, I think of her horrible childhood in Africa, and then her horrible first marriage, before she was able to escape to England. She felt herself trapped by circumstance, that is, a series of accidents that built up to a particular situation. Nevertheless, in her case, we are talking about a circumstance full of emotion, trial, stress, anger, striving, dreaming. It would be a mistake, I think, to say that her circumstance lacked a human dimension, even though we must acknowledge that much of what she experienced was shaped by accidents – the accidents of birth (where was she born, who were her parents, how much money did they have), the accidents of her education, the accidents of whom she first met romantically.
Having a fate doesn’t make us non-human.
Oddly, the part of his post that I most agree with is a part that Nicholas Carr offers in jest:
If we suspend our disbelief and accept the Accidentalist view that both the media of the past and the means of their production were accidents, then we have to also view the media of today and the means of their production as accidents. If the book is a historical accident, then the web is a historical accident. If the newspaper publisher is a historical accident, then the blogger is a historical accident. To think otherwise – to think that all mankind’s past blundering has brought us suddenly to a perfected state, that the long chain of accidents has been broken in (surprise!) our very own lifetime – is to abandon any pretense of a consistent and rational view of history and leap into the realm of quasi-religious faith. We were lost, and now we’re found!
Without a doubt, all of our current technologies are accidents. All of our current economic processes are accidents. And all of our future technologies and advances will also be accidents. A comparison to Darwin’s theory of evolution would be useful here – in the same way that wolverines, spiders, humans and bacteria are accidents, so to, every existing business is an accident, existing in a transitional state between what it has been and what it will be.
“Accident,” I hardly need point out, is a word with strongly negative connotations.
I can think of counter-examples. Winston Churchill praised certain accidents of history for allowing Europe to remain free of the Khan, during the Middle Ages. Sir Alexander Fleming openly described the discovery of penicillin as an accident. Charles Darwin suggested that all species were accidents, and many of the biologists who have lived in the modern era have been forceful in asserting that the human race is an accident (I am thinking of Stephen Jay Gould in particular).
Nicholas Carr has a particular target that he is going after:
Accidentalism, in other words. provides the perfect backdrop for the liberation mythology promoted by many of the web’s most ardent proponents, which is built on the idea that old technology put us in chains and new technology is breaking those chains.
I don’t have a problem with Carr criticizing those people. No doubt there are some who are promoting a millennialist interpretation of the Internet. But Carr specifically mentions Clay Shirky, who is clearly not a millennialist.
Any theory of the future that requires a distortion of the past should be greeted not with applause but suspicion.
What should we say of a theory that distorts what people are saying right now, in the present?