Keywords

The term utopia is linked to a number of metaphors: good society, fantasy, hope, freedom, unattainable perfection. The word itself is a creation of the utopian Thomas Morus (1516). He combines “place” (from the Greek topos) with the prefix “not” (from the Greek ou) to create a “non-place”. The concept of utopia also gives birth to the positive “eutopia”—“place” combined with the prefix “good” (from the Greek eu)—and “dystopia”, in its negative expression.

Nowadays, the statement “anyway, that is utopian” is almost the same as “that is impossible, after all”. This everyday use of the term utopia hints at a substantive problem. Utopias are often arbitrary. They claim that a harmonious, free and happy world is possible and illustrate this world in order to make it clearer and more plausible. These attractive visions of the future are then often used to motivate and mobilise. But, when presented as mere claims, utopias are unreliable, unfounded and arbitrary. They do not specify a possibility but describe a dream, a “non-possible fantasy”. Often these romantic, wishful utopias go back to ethical demands and describe what should be. Ethically based conceptions, however, are arbitrary. Romantic utopianism dwells in the land of fantasy, for it knows no limits. The utopian “overflow”, the exceeding of present conditions, is important. We are used to seeing it in art and even in Hollywood blockbusters, this dreaming of a world without war or filled with love. It is an expression of the fact that what is, is not enough. “Something’s missing” says Bertolt Brecht in the opera “Rise and Fall of the City of Mahogany”. But these utopias have been dreamt up, they are not utopias of possibilities. They express a longing for “something else”; however, they do not explain why this “something else” should be possible.

1 Utopia Beyond Ban and Dream

Many critics of society have dismissed utopia as a hollow, helpless dream of the future. Thus, Karl Marx and Frederick Engels confronted “utopian socialists” with “scientific socialism” and claimed to develop socialism from a utopia to a science (Engels 1891). In this chapter we want to point towards the implicit and unacknowledged presence of utopias, as well as justify its necessity for a transformation theory. Our aim is to overcome the opposition between the “negative” ban on images, on the one hand, and the “positive” arbitrary utopian dreams and classic socialist pictures, on the other. This is what the concept of categorical utopia is about. A categorical utopia fathoms the humanly possible on a conceptual level. It is a utopia of possibility.

1.1 Utopian Socialism and Determinism

At the beginning of the nineteenth century workers’ movements that developed utopias were quite common. Saint Simon (cf. Saage 1999), Charles Fourier (1829) or Robert Owen (1827) developed visions of new communities—rather than societies—and tried to bring them to live in pioneer villages. They aspired to communities that distribute the workload equally, collectivise the means of production and have some kind of democratic organisation. Empirical examples certainly have an epistemic value, but they also have significant limitations. “Whether or not a way of organising society works for a small community may not mean that it is or is not feasible for a society of a larger size” (Dapprich 2020, p. 17). Maybe the principles only work for a limited number of people. It may also be that the social system does not work at all on an island within a larger society that adheres to completely different principles.

Friedrich Engels argued against these “utopians” for other reasons which were no small matter for them. Engels wrote: “The utopian approach has long dominated the socialist ideas of the 19th century and to some extent still does” (Engels 1891, p. 200). Engels did not criticise the utopians for dreaming the impossible and praised their “ingenious thoughts and ideas” (ibid., p. 195). They criticised their ideas of revolutionising the world through ideas and concepts alone and called them idealists. For Engels, socialism was not an “accidental discovery of this or that genious head, but the necessary product of the struggle of two historically created classes. […] Its task was no longer to create a societal system as perfect as possible, but to explore the historical economic course” (ibid., p. 208). Historical and economic development leads inevitably to socialism and then communism. Here materialism tips over into determinism, and determinism needs no utopias. Thus Ernst Bloch then describes the average socialist as a “totally unutopian type[,] a slave of the objective tendency” (Bloch 1985, p. 677).

Well, determinism has failed. In 1914, the German social democrats voted for nationalism and war instead of internationalism. The socialist countries developed not in the centres of capitalism but the peripheries, and “the haphazard production of capitalist society [did not capitulate] to the planned production of socialist society”, as Engels assumed (1891, p. 201). In 1929, fascists, not socialists, took power in Germany. Walter Benjamin called history “a single catastrophe that ceaselessly heaps debris upon debris” (Benjamin 1940, p. 697f). Confidence in history disgraced itself, real socialism taught fear, and alternatives were urgently needed. A time for utopias? Hardly.

The 1920s to the early 1940s were a time of some utopian theories. The socialist calculation debate enrolled (Tisch 1932; Lange 1936, 1937; Lerner 1934, 1936), the council communists discussed alternatives to Soviet socialism (Korsch 1919; Pannekoek 1942; cf. Klopotek 2021) and Otto Neurath called for “scientific utopianism” (2004; cf. Da Cunha 2016), but the discussion faded. The debate on alternatives focused on reforms of Soviet socialism and market socialism in Yugoslavia—or mixed the two. The new left did not succeed in developing an overall societal alternative, and even after the end of Soviet socialism utopian thinking did not reappear. Today we are witnessing a resurgence of utopia, but most of the ideas are oriented towards a reformed social-ecological market economy. Margret Thatcher’s negative utopia expressed in the phrase “There is no alternative” is still strong. We have to defeat it.

1.2 Ban on Images

The lack of utopian perspective is propelled by emancipatory theories that always reject utopias and decree a “ban on images”. Their representatives argue (e.g., Adorno 1966; Behrens 2009) that each notion (“picture”) of a freed society is dominated by our present experiences and insights, that is, today’s domination-based conditions. Thus, it is impossible not to prolong today’s domination into the utopia and, therefore, it is impossible to currently envision a free society. It could be imagined as “the complete other” which cannot be described today. This is expressed in abstract and meaningless appeals like “For Communism” (a slogan on a demonstration banner). Utopia becomes the intangible heavenly hereafter.

We agree with this criticism; however, the answer cannot be to dismiss utopia, but to think in a way that specifies and reflects its foundations. Indeed, we cannot anticipate the free society today; we cannot prefigure how we will live then. But that is the fundamental problem of truth. No branch of science can find absolute truth; nevertheless, we can strive to come as close to it as possible. The same applies to scientific reflexion on utopia.

But how to fill the space of the non-existing but possible? Utopia is constituted and limited by human’s possibilities of societal development. In other words: utopian space is determined and limited by the human-social potential. This potential we must explore. It is this utopia, the utopia of what is possible, that overcomes the ban on images, as well as the arbitrariness of utopian phantasy.

The Ban on Images Is Not a Ban on Thinking

Theodor W. Adorno is seen as the embodiment of the ban on images—and, indeed, he objects to any “ornamentation”. Adorno’s ban on images, however, is no ban on thinking. Utopia is not only a central element in his theorising, one that guides it as an antithesis, but an item on which he develops conceptual clarifications. A utopian society would involve the “fearless, active participation of each individual: within a whole which no longer institutionally hardens participation but would still produce concrete results” (Adorno 1966, p. 261, transl. M.R.). What is needed is “the liberation of the mind from the primacy of the material needs in the phase of its satisfaction. Only when the bodily urge is settled, will the mind be at ease” (ibid., p. 207, transl. M.R.) Adorno reflects on utopia, and we consider his theoretical foundation of Marxism and psychoanalysis to be the starting point of his utopian reflections. Thus, his utopian provisions are not arbitrary but verifiable, can be criticised and can provide the basis for further development—not unlike our categorical utopia.

1.3 Continuing Old Socialist Pictures

While the modern utopian discourse has surrendered to the ban on images and given up on looking for alternatives, concepts of traditional Marxism still fill the utopian space. No matter how real socialist countries might be assessed, they did exist, at any rate. Thus, they provide orientation, for criticism and utopia. In fact, socialism lost the status of a true utopia when the stage model (cf. p. 53) declared it to be just a transition society on the path to communism. The communist utopia, however, remained largely undefined. There are, certainly, some general clues—work as an end in itself, the socialisation of →property (p. 130), absence of the state and so on—but these are, strictly speaking, simple negations: work is not subject to a foreign purpose, property is not private, the state is not omnipresent and so on.Footnote 1 Even after the decline of real socialism, these problems of utopia were never properly processed. Thus, in many cases, pictures of an “improved” real socialism could mutate into a utopian goal (like in many reformist approaches: more democracy). However, such a “utopia”—including property, the work principle and the state—mentally remains a society that mediates its societal structure through (hours of) work, like in capitalism.

2 Possibility Utopia

All people who think about a better future in any way have utopian ideas. Marx had them, Lenin had them, Adorno had them. What is different is the degree of explication and foundation. This is exactly what categorical utopia is about: explication and foundation. It points towards a space of human societal development; it is a utopia of human societal possibilities. Its goal is to spark debate on the possible future of societal development. Otto Neurath already tried to overcome anti-utopian ideas in the 1920s by introducing a similar concept called “scientific utopianism”. While Robert Owen tried to prove the feasibility of a better society by establishing small communities, Neurath used theoretical models and social science findings to design better political and economic systems (cf. Neurath 2004). Moreover, Engels’ accusation of idealism does not apply to Neurath’s utopia as he does not disconnect the development of utopias from social movements. Rather, these utopias are meant to give a movement a clear goal to fight for and to show that this goal is feasible. Furthermore, we do not want our categorical utopia, substantially developed in Chap. 6, to be misunderstood as a “genuine truth”, but as an invitation to criticise and refine it or to develop an alternative categorical classification. Utopia can become a science with the help of criticism, refinement and dispute. There are two requirements a categorical possibility utopia has to meet: a criticism of the existing and a classification of the possible.

2.1 Categorical Criticism of Capitalism

We consider the objection that our experience of capitalist reality shapes our thinking, feeling and acting and that there is therefore no possibility of transgression to be weighty. Our refutation rests upon the observation that the capitalist shaping is not closed, that, apart from integration and subordination, it also encloses transgression. The way we think, feel and act is certainly shaped by capitalism; however, there are elements of human potential that are deployed by capitalism in an inadequate or distorted form. These elements need to be given room to breathe.

We have grown into this society and we have, more or less, succeeded in learning its functioning. Every day we reproduce the societal conditions we are subject to. We are capitalism. Nevertheless, we are not happy with everything we experience, we see the faults resulting from capitalism and we criticise them. This criticism, however, as well as our daily functioning, refers to the given framework. First of all, our criticism is immanent. It stays within the boundaries of capitalist categories, refers to them and, thus, confirms them. For example, it accepts money-mediated exchange but demands a fairer distribution of money. This immanent criticism is important, for it is the beginning of an individual rejection of what is wrong, and it implies a search for alternatives.

It makes a difference, though, whether the criticism of the faults stays within the boundaries of the existing framework or the framework itself is criticised. That is the difference between immanent and categorical criticism. Immanent criticism objects to particular faults; categorical criticism aims at the systemic context, the source of the faults. The systemic context can only be figured out categorically. As detailed as a description and criticism of the faults of capitalism may be—and they are truly countless—they do not provide insight as to the operating principle of capitalism. Categorical criticism claims to conceptualise the inner core of capitalism, that which creates it and holds it together. It approaches capitalism as a self-producing and self-maintaining system, as a whole. Criticism is aimed at the whole and, thus, at the forms of thinking, feeling and acting that shape our behaviour under the given circumstances in order to secure our existence. Consequently, categorical criticism includes the critics; it is also always self-criticism. No one stands outside looking in. The main features of our categorical criticism of capitalism have been outlined at the beginning of the book (Chap. 1, 3). It is a necessary socio-theoretical element of categorical utopia. Thus, we claim to know what must be transvoluted. An open question is how it should be done.

2.2 Human Societal Possibilities

Any given utopia can only put possibility into practise. As a consequence, we need general classifications and categories that outline the realm of human possibility. This includes the achievements of the general theory of the individual and the general theory of society. These theories do not deal with historically specific characteristics of specific people in a specific society, but with general features of people and society throughout history. They do not speak specifically of a capitalist or feudal society but of societies in general; this is also what links utopia to reality.

In this context, uncertainty can quickly erupt. This uneasiness is well-founded. All too often, talking about “the” human being results in its reduction, limitation, fixation. All too often, human beings are tied down as “instinct creatures”, “biotic egoists” or “good by nature”. We must tread lightly here. However, the emancipatory answer to the question of general human traits cannot be silence. This prevents us from thinking about the future and limits our classification of the present.

The point is this: criticism does not only require a theory of society; it also requires a theory of the individual if it is to understand our human suffering. Criticism could wear out in stating that many people do not feel well in capitalism. But as soon as it tries to go beyond this statement and become more specific regarding human suffering—be it stress, isolation, fear and so on—it implicitly touches on individual-theoretical statements. In doing so, it identifies what people would need to live a better life (cf. Chap. 4, 1). At the very moment that this better life requires a change in societal conditions, individual criticism becomes a general societal claim. If we find people in capitalism to be existentially afraid of being outcompeted and taken advantage of, we implicitly assume →needs (p. 113) for a life free from existential fear. If we criticise the egoistic human of neoclassical economics, this implicitly confirms that people do not always act selfishly. These examples only give implicit conclusions. However, as long as they are not systematically reformulated within a theory of the individual and consequently justified, the mentioned problems run the risk of being unknowingly attributed to the individual as a personal deficit.

Therefore, we suggest an explication of the theory of the individual as well as of the theory of society (cf. Chap. 5). In this process we must substantiate them so that their assumptions become testable and debatable. This way we will refine and specify them and improve our categorical utopia along the way. Naturally, not all theories of the individual and of society serve that purpose, and explication alone is not enough. Many theories of the individual conceptualise the human being as independent of societal connections. The individual is the familiar (“inside”), and society is the stranger (“out there”). If a theory of the individual conceptualises the latter only as what the body encloses and society as simply an “external factor” or, at best, just another “variable”, then it solely replicates what in capitalism is experienced as societal alienation. This, however, closes the door on an understanding of people as establishing a relationship in which they experience society as a part of themselves. Allow us to illustrate.

Some approaches, such as solidarity economy, degrowth, and alternative forms of living, acknowledge alienation in society. However, this alienation is only perceived as an interpersonal phenomenon: we do not feel connected, and without relationships we cannot achieve societal changes. Therefore, we must first connect with other people. This reflection is not wrong, but it falls short of the mark. It oversees the fact that we are already connected to all people, namely, transpersonally. First of all, we are not nomads, we do not have to go “outside” to connect; the relationship already exists. We simply do not experience it. Relationships are not to be established interpersonally, in the first place. Instead, we must ask ourselves why we experience the existing transpersonal relationships as separation, unfamiliarity and anonymity. A mere interpersonal criticism of alienation is not directed at the capitalist form of relationship, which can only appear as separation (cf. Chap. 1, 3.1); it rather tries to repair this perceived separation at the interpersonal level. Therefore, unfamiliarity and anonymity seem to be generally immanent in societies. And the capitalist relationship of monads via markets, contracts, money and force appears as the “natural” form of establishing a societal “connection”.

Defence Against Utopia

It is hardly surprising that most people do not think much of emancipatory ideas. When talking with critics, one often encounters the statement: “Nice idea; impossible though”. Emancipatory movements have a fundamental problem. The pursuit of a free society rests on a basic assumption: a society free from domination is possible. But why? Isn’t Capitalism the best of all bad societies? An emancipatory movement without a categorical utopia has no answer to this. Hope cannot be justified. But hope must—and can—be justified. Otherwise, emancipatory movements are to remain in the religious fogs of belief. Asking for the legitimation of hope means asking for the legitimation of utopia. We must have a clear understanding of our hope, that is, we must prove the human societal potential to build a free society beyond doubt. Only then will the emancipatory movement be able to stand its ground with conviction and, maybe, spread enthusiasm.

How to explain the paradoxical experience of perceiving connection as separation? The source of this paradox is the capitalist →logic of exclusion (p. 17). According to this, each connection simultaneously produces the exclusion of others. It is an excluding connection—interpersonal and transpersonal—of a structural nature. Recognising structural causes of alienation leads us to the next question: how can we produce* conditions which foster forms of structural connection that we can experience as such? In order to be able to answer the question of whether this possibility is a real one, we need an adequate theory of the individual as well as a theory of society. We develop our view on the space of human possibilities in Chap. 5. They allow us an approximation to answering the question of what we are capable of—individually and societally. In other words: what is our individual-societal potential?

2.3 Utopia as Science

Our categorical utopia aims at triggering a new form of thinking about utopia. Criticism is one way to specify categorical utopias. This criticism, however, should not be an abstract rejection or a mere →defence against utopia (p. 97) such as: “this simply doesn’t work”. On the contrary, it should be a concrete, relevant critique that focuses on what is possible. In our view, this criticism can take three forms: First, it can criticise the underlying theoretical base—the theory of the individual and of society. Second, it can question the relation between this theoretical basis and the substance of the utopia presented. Do they match? Does the utopia correspond to the theory of the individual and that of society? Third, criticism can attack the conceptual unfolding within the categorical utopia. Are there any additional implicit or explicit assumptions?

2.3.1 Description and Categorical Classification

Most existing utopias are descriptions of a situation hoped for. They describe how people live in this future society, how they bring up their children, how they work, move and so on. They provide a detailed description of everyday life to make it transparent, credible, to show that it works. In doing so, utopias can display different qualities.

The concepts of the early socialist Charles Fourier might appear a little strange when he explains how many people comprise the smallest group and how they should organise themselves (cf. Fourier 1829, p. 146 ff.). Likewise, the education utopia of early socialist Robert Owen, who hoped happiness could be imposed on people, is likely to be met with a sceptical frown (cf. Owen 1827, p. 105). In contrast, the description of the anarchist utopia in Ursula K. Le Guin’s novel The Dispossessed (1974) seems more promising, even though its criticism of capitalism is reduced to a personalised criticism of inequality. However, all the aforementioned share a common problem: they are based on certain notions and theories about people and society—and on certain types of criticism of the existing society. These serve as a foundation for their moral rules, their concept of algorithmic division of labour via computers and so on. Neither theories nor criticism are openly stated, they remain implicit. One cannot blame a novel for this; however, it applies to most theoretical utopias. This lack of explication gives the impression that these utopias have been plucked out of the air, that they are arbitrary, an unfounded claim. Many assumptions remain in the dark, unclear and unquestionable. Why should three to five people be in Fourier’s core group? Does a computer programme allow for an organisation of task sharing free of domination?

We claim that all utopias have a theoretical and critical foundation. They are developed with a certain concept of the world in mind. They move within a certain categorical frame. Our categorical utopia demands an open naming and analysis of this frame and its connection to the utopia. Our assumption is that, in the course of this process, we will find out that many detailed descriptions of utopias are unsustainable. We cannot describe the future in detail. We cannot paint a picture of the future. We can only name some mechanisms, some forms of coordination, which could be essential in the utopia.

However, we do not know precisely how people will “work”—our categorical frame does not provide any information on this. But we can say that, in all probability, nobody will be forced to “work” in a free society. We can presume that activities will not be subject to a hierarchical structure, and that jobs that are not very popular, such as assembly-line work, will be replaced.

At this point we can guess the shape that utopias acquire when following a categorical outline. We will be less concerned with “ornamental” details and more with the fundamental dynamics in society. Rather than developing finished scenarios on the future, we will specify frame-setting considerations. Categorical utopia is not about depicting phenomena of the future but about comprehending its essential structures. This turns the utopian dream into a human possibility. And such a possibility utopia can improve and clarify the practice.

2.3.2 Utopia First!

Utopias are often seen as something unlimited, a dream, a space of endless possibilities. This conception conceals their fundamentally limited and limiting nature. Utopias are always grounded on certain theories, on conceptions of reality. Engaging with ideas of transformation, we come to the same conclusion time after time: transformation is fundamentally limited by the utopia it is based on. This, for example, becomes quite obvious when looking at Lenin’s The State and Revolution (1917). The idea of socialism as a state-planned economy shapes the conception of transformation. Erik Olin Wright’s utopia of a market with strict state rules and formative collective property is also within reach of his proposals of reformist alterations (Wright 2010). Again and again, the enormous importance of the utopia for the transformation becomes obvious.

An alternative concept to a utopia-first attitude is expressed by the motto “Asking we walk” of the Zapatistas in Mexico. This approach harbours an important truth: we cannot specify utopia completely; and, furthermore, the utopia itself and its theoretical basis can be wrong. On the one hand, this means that the utopia only becomes more specific and detailed in the practical process of transvolution. Step by step, the theory changes by incorporating new experiences and learning processes, thus adding clarity to the utopia. On the other hand, our new experiences might change the fundamental concepts of our utopia. But just as transformation cannot have an utterly predefined aim, it cannot be aimless either. To progress through questions without having sufficiently clarified the objective beforehand will probably lead to failure. Thinking about our aim, we might realise that a state-oriented transformation cannot help us reach our goal. With that in mind, no matter how long we pursue the state-oriented path of transformation, it will never lead us to the free society. The quest must include some basic considerations regarding utopia; this, in turn, will deliver fundamental findings about transformation. Otherwise, what remains is a hopeful groping in the fog of possibilities.

3 Other Approaches to Utopia

3.1 Bloch’s Concrete Utopia

Ernst Bloch (1985) confronted the abstract utopias, already criticised by Marx and Engels, with his suggestion of a concrete utopia. He sees concrete utopia as a process of permanently renewed anticipations of little steps towards something forthcoming, which, as a whole, remains vague and only develops in the course of the approach. “The long-term goal must be recognisable in each short-term objective, so that the long-term goal is not empty, abstract and unmediated, and the short-term objective is not blind, opportunistic, living for the moment” (transl. M.R.). In this context there are two possible problems. One is that the little anticipations might lack the connection to a free society, so that they become a reformist accomplishment of the best possibility today. Without further utopian orientation there is, indeed, an additional danger of remaining tied to the respective society in the actual thinking. The other is that Bloch’s concept might implicitly involve an aim from which it derives criteria, so that the little anticipations can be evaluated as implementations of real possibilities. That would lead to the challenge of explicating the distant utopia as a goal. Bloch’s approach is correct inasmuch as a utopia must be incomplete, and it will be specified in the process of transvolution. Nevertheless, the process of transvolution already requires the existence of qualitatively new relationships between people, and this quality must already touch people and be partly conceivable.

3.2 Planned Society as Utopia

If the core element of a free society is people designing their societal circumstances according to their needs, then the obvious idea is to plan this society. A free society needs planning, but central planning is dangerous. Societal mediation on the basis of centralised plans has little to do with freedom. Like the market, mediation based on a plan is also based on the separation of people from the means they need to live (→property, p. 130). The means for satisfying their needs are not freely available to the people; they must work and fulfil their planned tasks to get them. He/she who works harder or longer gets more. Only needy people get support without work, to cushion the work principle. In principle, however, the satisfaction of needs remains performance-related. This work principle (cf. p. 22) unites plan and market, socialism and capitalism.Footnote 2

As the people are not voluntarily active under socialist conditions, they try to get as much societal wealth as possible for this unloved work. The businesses also try to secure the resources they need for the realisation of their plan. Although there is no official competition, the plan creates a structure of opposite sides. People and businesses compete for wealth and resources by trying to influence the plan in their favour. The state’s task is mediation. It tries to examine the different claims and to control a population, cheating each other and the state. Since there is no market competition, the businesses do not feel the need to include the needs of the users. Thus, the produced items are often inadequate. Why should the workers care about satisfying products? They probably do not even work in the way which could appeal to them. They work because they get something in return and not because it makes sense to them. This leads to the conclusion that planned mediation also creates conditions that foster exclusion, rather than inclusion, for example, when scrambling for wealth.

3.3 Technical Utopias

The frontrunner of the (utopian and) transformation discourse is technology. Many transformation theories share a belief in technological development. Constant improvements would gradually render a great deal of work superfluous. As a consequence, many of our needs could be satisfied with ever-decreasing efforts. “Necessary working time” is supposed to decline to a manageable minimum of, for example, five hours per week. The remaining time could be filled with recreation activities. This, supposedly, brings us close to the free society.

Such hopes based on technology have been accompanying capitalism for a long time. As long as competition led to cheaper products requiring less labour, the development was considered positive. For Marx, too, the development of the productive forces was one of the most secure roads to a free society. For Lenin—along with education—it was the most important driving force for the transition from socialism to communism. Unfortunately, so far, technology has not delivered the promised results.

But predictions say it will not be long; it is estimated that 47% of labour in the USA will be automatised within the next 20 years (Frey and Osborne 2013). The affirmation that what causes social upheavals and redundancies in capitalism can hold the promise of the free society is one we cannot embrace.

For us, utopia is essentially a social utopia, a utopia of relationships and not of technology. Of course, technology will be necessary for a lot of things, and there will probably be exciting technological developments in a free society. However, the new quality of the satisfaction of our needs in a utopia derives from experiencing a new quality of societal integration and security rather than from new technological inventions. Our human potential surely includes the production of technological means; but even more impressive are the human possibilities of shaping our social means, our relationships, our mediation and organisation. Thus, the utopia is less concerned with unlimited freedom on the basis of technological omnipotence and more with the liberty of inclusive relationships, of being connected and mutually supportive so that we can advance together.

4 The Limits of Utopian Thinking

In this chapter we concentrate on some problem areas of utopian thinking.

4.1 Utopia and Criticism

Each criticism has a foundation, a position (a positive proposition) from which to criticise a state of affairs as wrong, painful, or unnecessary. This position can be justified in different ways, for example, through an ethical, normative perspective, by establishing values or, psychologically, by defining human needs. It is this position that establishes negation as a starting point. Without it, criticism would not be justified; it would be a mere rebellion against the unchangeable, against a world “which is as it is, take it or leave it”. The position, however, refers to a point where criticism is transcended, where the basics of the position can unfold. This place of the practical transgression of theory, of the realisation of ethical values, of the unfolding of the human being, this place is utopia.

An example: when I criticise injustice, I assume a position which demands justice. This position refers to a place where there is no injustice, where justice has been achieved, a utopia. Naturally, I can oppose this place, discard it as impossible and not demand the qualitative fulfilment of justice but only its quantitative expansion. But this too must be justified and, again, criticism will reject the next phase as unjust. The foundation of criticism propels criticism. It needs utopia to reach its fulfilment, for the process to come to rest. Criticism aims at utopia.

In the critique of society, the position—and, thus, utopia—only implicitly resonates most of the time. There is a reason for that. A positioning is much weaker and easier to criticise than a negation. And, nevertheless, each negation always encompasses the position. Then one might realise that “what is wrong, once definitely recognized and specified, is already the indicator of what is right, what is better” (Adorno 1971, p. 19, transl. M.R.). When post-structuralism criticises the construction and exclusion of the “Not Normal”, it has in mind the inclusion of diversity in its peculiarity. When neo-Marxism criticises subconscious socialisation, it demands a conscious one. When modern feminism criticises patriarchal domination, it desires a society without gender discrimination. When critical theory criticises interior and exterior repression, it imagines a society which provides for the “fearless, active participation of the individual” (Adorno 1966, p. 261, transl. M.R.). There is an interdependence between societal criticism and utopia: the more detailed and insightful the criticism is in addressing the heart of the matter, the more explicit the utopia becomes. And vice versa: each statement on utopia sharpens the criticism. That is why utopian literature is said to have a socio-critical element. Criticism needs utopia, otherwise it is arbitrary. The explication of utopia sharpens the criticism. The ascertainment of criticism explores utopia.

4.2 Utopia as Legitimation

A utopia can legitimise actions people would not perform without the normative alignment of the utopia. With the help of this legitimation, they can induce people to perform unwanted actions: “A future good cause renders today’s sub-optimal means acceptable”. The destruction of the nature that surrounds us for the sake of wealth or the suppression of political opponents for the sake of enforcing the free society against the enemies also follow this line of argument. Thus, domination is justified. As Stalinism has proven, extreme forms can emerge in the name of emancipation which pervert the original aims. This brings to light a typical figure of civic enlightenment, an ends-means rationality which subjects the means to the ends. The ends justify the means, after all. That does not mean that the aim must be wrong. The tragedy is that the aim disintegrates, or develops negative features, because of the means employed in pursuing it.

Therefore, we come to the conclusion that a utopia cannot claim to be emancipatory in character if the means do not match the ends, if the path does not correspond to the goal. A utopia that is partial and selective is no utopia at all, at least not one referring to a free society, which can only be a society of universal freedom. If we reject an instrumental relation between ends and means, if we are convinced that the end cannot justify the use of conflicting means, the question of agency arises, of how to enforce a societal transformation. Another question is how an emancipatory movement can deal with force, one that it has not chosen but to which it is subjected.

4.3 Philosophy of History

Utopias are often associated with the philosophy of history or the teleology of history, a concept which identifies the utopia with an aim (telos) that the historical process necessarily pursues. In this context, the concept of “progress”, at the heart of the Enlightenment acquires a clear benchmark. The workers movement believed itself to be the actor of historical progress, the driving force and executor of the historical process, the one who would, sooner or later, lead humanity to communism. In light of the failure of real socialism, but also of the apparent limits of a logic of economic growth, all philosophy of history and related utopias must be discarded—so the argument goes.

This criticism implies that all philosophical reflexion on history is based on a teleological construction. But each view is based on key assumptions about the concept and progress of history, such as consistency, circularity, regression, randomness and so on and so forth. Historical reflexion without a philosophy of history is a contradiction in terms. The question is not whether to embrace a philosophy of history but which one to choose. We advocate a teleonomicFootnote 3 philosophy of history, investigating which historical development is within human reach and what conditions must be met for its realisation.

4.4 Totalitarianism

Another critique argues that all utopias go against the equal right to happiness for all. Happiness is supposed to be always entirely individual, a characteristic life plan, one’s own preferences and goals. A totalitarian societal system is the inevitable result—according to this reasoning—of a utopia that claims to assess or simply describe everyone’s goals for the sake of a unified form of societal realisation, subordinating the individuals to the whole.

This (short) conclusion regarding the connection between generality and totalitarianism points at the limitation of the underlying concept of emancipation. Indeed, in traditional Marxism, realised in socialism, there are utopias which subordinated individual happiness to the interests of the collective body (cf. also Chap. 2, footnote 6). Real socialism-oriented utopias represent a certain (state-oriented) version of utopia, not the whole space of its possibilities. Nevertheless, they implement an important requirement of utopias: they are generally valid and, therefore, apply to everybody. However, this generality is attained by diluting individuality into the community. The utopia applies to everyone because everyone is equally subjected to it. Subordination in such a concept of community becomes a pressure that cannot accept deviation and leads to a totalitarian claim.

On the other hand, an emancipation that does not claim to involve everyone is not general but only partial, limited. Such partial emancipations—for example, the acceptance of homosexuality—can not only be nicely integrated into capitalism (perhaps as a new group of consumers), they can even become a motor of its inner differentiation and permanent renewal. This does not speak against partial emancipations, but as long as some interests are met at the expense of others, as long as emancipation is not general, it cannot aim beyond capitalism.

The solution to the opposition of generality and partiality, totalitarianism and capitalist modernisation, is unfolded individuality. An individual’s unfolding is not limited by others; it requires them. A general emancipation can only be successful on the basis of inclusion, not exclusion.

5 Summary

Without utopian thinking, societal transformation has no goal. And without a goal, the path towards a free society is questionable—for, where could it possibly lead to? In the poetic words of Oscar Wilde: “A map of the world that does not include Utopia is not even worth glancing at” (1891, p. 303). Nevertheless, utopian thinking is problematic and there are good reasons to oppose it. Our findings in brief:

  • Current utopia theories either prohibit utopias, refer to them as an abstract “complete other”, or tend to ornament them.

  • A ban on utopia renders transformation undeterminable and misjudges the difference between pipe dream and categorical classification.

  • A categorical utopia is based on two requirements: a critique of the existing and an identification of the possible.

  • On the basis of explicit considerations about the human being and society, we can analyse basic dynamics of a free society.

  • We can criticise and advance disclosed categorical foundations of a utopia, thus turning utopia into science.

  • The limits and dangers of utopia must always be considered.