David Runciman is one of our foremost public intellectuals writing and speaking about ideas defining our age of politics. Whether it is the decline of democracy, the politics of hypocrisy, or the notion of abolishing the voting age, Runciman has expressed clear opinions on all such issues that has if not affected policy then at least made us think about such questions. His popular bi-weekly podcast is testament to his work in bringing political theory to a ‘popular audience’ and it is this that his new book is based off. I opened the book with high expectations given not just who the author was but the sparkling quotes from noted figures such as Anne Applebaum, Adam Tooze, James Marriot and Jason Cowley on the front and back.
The History of Ideas: Equality, Justice and Revolution is a big title for what should be a big book. Equality, Justice, and Revolution are some of the most contested and important words in the world of philosophy. They all have a rich historical tradition requiring careful unpacking and a clear voice for any real conversation to take hold. Indeed, given the times we live, any book detailing such concepts should substantially engage with how these concepts are being played out today.
Yet, in this mishmash of a book, neither is really done to any great degree. Runciman writes in the preface that “This book, like its predecessor, Confronting Leviathan, is based on a series of Podcasts that I put out during and after the Covid Pandemic.” Unfortunately, throughout reading this attempt it is clear that the podcast-book transformation fails to really hit home. The chapters, all based on singular thinkers, are designed to be able to be read independently while the needle thread of Equality, Justice, and Revolution are threaded through them.
Yet, I found this was rarely the case. Not only were some of the authors an odd choice (Why decide upon Samuel Butler, a relatively unknown writer) but the placement of those chosen lacked clear systemisation. Our journey begins with Rousseau, and then we shift radically towards Bentham, before tilting towards Douglass. What these authors have in common to ‘thread the needle’ is difficult to discern and it is a theme repeated throughout. The result is an incoherent framework giving us a whirlwind tour which leaves you scratching your head and asking ‘why’ throughout with relatively few answers provided.
Compounded by a lack of theoretical underpinning describing the world around us or the values which he’s assessing in each author Runciman dives straight into the content. Within each author, there is a mixture of biographical information and political theory discussion. The articulation and expounding of the theory is not bad in of itself but does lack depth. Rarely are quotes from the authors included in the work and neither are rival interpretations included with any regularity. The result renders the reader at the mercy of Runciman’s interpretation which for different reasons is unsatisfactory. For those who are not familiar with the authors, there are not enough guardrails for them to actively make up their minds and consider the entire landscape surrounding the author’s thoughts. Yet, for those who are well-read on these subjects, there is little new provided by Runciman. Ultimately, this approach likely pleases neither camp with everyone wanting a little bit more.
I was most disappointed about the lack of serious discussion on critiques of each of these author’s flaws. Runciman selectively chooses who to pick apart in more detail and who to leave alone because of their ‘brilliance’. The chapters on Bentham, Douglass, Schmitt and Rawls all point to the inconsistency of the application of reason. Bentham is described as a genius unfairly mischaracterised by his opponents, Rawls as a dry academic who made some progress and Schmitt as a card-carrying Nazi. Even a brief exposition on the conservative critiques made by idealists and conservatives of Bentham and Rawls would give the reader some indication these paragons of liberal and progressive thought are not as unique and perfectible as the book gives the impression of. This would not have been difficult to do nor to give the reader a fuller menu of options when considering what constitutes democracy, equality and revolution.
I found few major flaws with most of the discussion making it somewhat robust but it could have been more obviously connected to the themes of the title and developed in greater depth. Take for instance the chapter on Carl Schmitt. Runciman is correct to articulate that politics is about the friend enemy distinction but he fails to note what constitutes the distinction leaving the reader inevitably asking, ‘For Schmitt who is a friend and an enemy?’. This is only one example of a commonly recurring theme throughout where Runciman seemingly has not unpacked the authors sufficiently for the layman to understand and not enough for the ‘expert’ to wonder where it all takes us. It does not make Runciman wrong necessarily, although the Schmitt chapter was laden with assumptions, but it certainly attempts an incomplete one.
The lack of depth at times plays a more significant role. Precisely because Runciman fails to thematically tackle concepts it can lead to some inconsistency across chapters which makes for a lack of conceptual clarity. Take democracy, Runciman argues in the Schmitt chapter the US by 1918 was a democracy, yet he also argues in the Schumpeter chapter that minimal democracy requires everyone to have a choice. Given in 1918 African Americans and Women didn’t have the vote in the US, it strikes me that even according to his own minimum definitions the USA of 1918 could not reliably be called ‘democracy’. Indeed, even a brief reading of the literature on democracy, would find Robert Dahl’s famous work On Democracy explaining precisely why pre-civil rights America could not reliably be called a ‘democracy’.
It is not only theoretical consistency and depth which are lacking here. Oftentimes, Runciman got sidetracked with discussions from different authors throughout the chapters leading to significant issues with pacing and direction. Rousseau appeared throughout with the odd mention but oftentimes with little effect. Yet, in the Schmitt chapter, where Rousseau is most pertinent compared to other authors, he oddly makes no appearance. Perhaps, this is an issue with developing a podcast as a book, the conversational flow doesn’t quite track the same way.
Despite the popular nature of such a book, there were few references to the modern day (some such as The West Wing, Twitter, and Greta Thunberg did pop up) and when used they were relatively thin and inconsistently applied. Rather than in Liberalism as a way of life, which creatively used cultural artefacts to engage the theory this attempt felt sloppy and applied practice for the sake of it. Perhaps worse, and most disappointing was Runciman’s writing on Jeremy Bentham. Spending a significant section of the chapter asking if Bentham had ‘Asperger’s syndrome’, an outdated term no longer in clinical use, Runciman clumsily attempts to highlight how the way we think effects our categorisation of ideas and things.
Runciman is an important thinker who is capable of serious era-defining work. His writings in Political Hypocrisy, The Handover, and How Democracy Ends are all worthwhile and important efforts. Unfortunately, Runciman’s talent is wasted in this everyman’s explanation of political thinkers and ideas. Worse than being banal the book fails to accomplish what it sets out on its own terms- adequately exploring equality, justice and revolution via the authors chosen. This is a frustrating work which should not be revisited and a warning to those who believe podcasts can easily be turned into written works.
I haven’t read the book, but this is a good review - gives me a clear idea of the book’s strengths and flaws. For me, a “flow” is really important in writing - it sounds like this book lacked flow. Works fine in a podcast, not so well in a book.