Introduction
Neoliberalism has become, for various reasons, a highly contested term across a range of academic domains (Harman, Reference Harman2008; Venugopal, Reference Venugopal2015; Rodgers, Reference Rodgers2018). As a concept, it has been charged to have ‘failed analytically’ and to be ‘hopelessly confused’ (Mair in Venkatesan et al., Reference Venugopal2015: 917). Furthermore, the proposition that neoliberalism is at the ‘bottom of the various ills besetting the poor and marginalized around the world does violence to the particular histories and structural and life conditions of particular places and peoples’ (Venkatesan in Venkatesan et al., Reference Venugopal2015: 911). Indeed, some argue that the term constitutes an obstacle and should simply be dropped (Laidlaw in Venkatesan et al., Reference Venkatesan, Laidlaw, Eriksen, Mair and Martin2015). Bill Dunn (Reference Dunn2017: 443) goes on to assert that, whilst it is a term of the political left, neoliberalism is mostly associated with ‘left elites’ and the discourses dominating ‘academic texts and relatively highbrow media’. Progressive social movements do not, it is maintained, tend to have much recourse to the term (Ishkanian and Glasius, Reference Ishkanian and Glasius2018). Consequently, the ‘conceptual proliferation’ of neoliberalism continues to ‘reflect and encourage the dissociation with broader social movements and legitimises a retreat into a self-referential world of our own’ (Dunn, Reference Dunn2017: 444).
In contrast, a number of writers stress the continued analytical usefulness of the concept of neoliberalism (Garrett, Reference Garrett2018a: Ch. 5). For Bourdieu (Reference Bourdieu2001: 35), neoliberalism is best perceived as a ‘conservative revolution’ signalling the ‘return of the kind of radical capitalism, with no other law than the return of maximum profit’. According to David Harvey (Reference Harvey2005: 168) – arguably the leading populariser of the term – neoliberalism seeks to succeed the ‘embedded liberalism’ mostly dominant in the industrial west from the end of the Second World War into the 1970s. More recently, when examining developments in various parts of the world, a range of social policy scholars have continued to stress the significance of neoliberalism in examining the imposition of, and opposition to, a range of orientations and programmes (see, for example, Dukelow and Kennett, Reference Dukelow and Kennett2018; Grugel and Riggirozzi, Reference Grugel and Riggirozzi2018; Papadopoulos and Roumpakis, Reference Papadopoulos and Roumpakis2018; Schram and Pavlovskaya, 2017).
On account of this debate, it may be especially timely to re-visit Michel Foucault's lecture series on neoliberalism published, in English, ten years ago (Foucault, Reference Foucault2008). These lectures, titled ‘The Birth of Biopolitics’, were delivered at the Collège de France between 10 Jan and 4 April 1979 (Foucault, Reference Foucault2008).
Internationally, this was a period marked by revolutionary change and associated forms of political reaction. The Iranian Revolution took place just days after their commencement and, in the UK, Margaret Thatcher came to power on 4 May precisely a month after Foucault concluded.
Central to the lectures was Foucault's attempt to articulate two specific forms of neoliberalism – German and American – which shared the very same ‘objects of repulsion, namely, the state-controlled economy, planning, and state interventionism’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault2008: 79; see also Villadsen and Dean, Reference Villadsen and Dean2012)Footnote 1. In this sense, his prescient – and problematic – contributions continue to furnish insights into the evolution of social policy and the wider world in which social policy is situated. Initially relying on the translation of Foucault's words, the article starts by describing his account of both variants of neoliberalism. The first part of the ensuing discussion historicises and situates Foucault's analysis within debates occurring in France in the late 1970s and early 1980s. The second part, argues that, despite some of the theoretical obstacles posed by his analysis, Foucault may still aid our understanding of the evolution of ‘neoliberal’ social policy.
Creating the anti-Beveridge blueprint: German ordoliberalism
In a sense, reference to a ‘German’ neoliberalism lacks appropriate specificity and is somewhat misleading. More accurately, this is a West German neoliberalism evolving in the Federal Republic of Germany (FRG) in the years following the inception of the state in 1949. Importantly also, some of the main theoreticians were actually Austrian. Ludwig von Mises was born in what was then Austria-Hungary, as was Friedrich Hayek. Indeed, Foucault acknowledges the significance of the ‘Austrian school’.
The post-war ‘reconstruction’ of the FRG provides the temporal, political and cultural framework for the development of neoliberal economic and social policy. The Cold War was significant, although Foucault does not dwell on this dimension. During this period, key figures successfully argued that the economy needed to be deregulated and not be subject to price controls. Influential here was Ludwig Erhard, appointed FRG Minister of the Economy in 1951 and hailed as ‘father of the German economic miracle’ (p. 97). By 1952–3, ‘liberalization’ was ‘more or less established’ in the FRG (p. 87). Price controls had been abolished on food, coal, electricity and most other basic necessities. Whilst workers opposed these measures with a general strike in 1948, Erhard steadfastly maintained his economic direction. Eventually, the Social Democratic Party (SPD) was won over to the vision and, following a ‘series of renunciations’ (p. 89), the Godesberg Programme of 1959 rejected class-based politics and the political aspiration to replace capitalism. Even the policy of nationalisation was rejected by the SPD.
Foucault emphasises the significance of the academic journal ORDO established in the 1930s by the German economists Walter Eucken and Franz Böhm and associated with the Freiburg School of economic thought. ORDO provided the intellectual impetus for what became known as ordoliberalism. Alexander Rüstow, Wilhelm Röpke and Hayek were some of the most influential figures associated with this, often internally fractious, current of thought. Not only was Hayek important within Germany, he was ‘very clearly one of the inspirations of contemporary American liberalism, or of American anarcho-capitalism’ (p. 104).
All of these neoliberal thinkers drastically opposed Keynesian economics and welfare capitalism with Röpke equating the Beveridge reforms in Britain to the horrors of Nazism (p. 110). Within this framing, Nazism was essentially and ‘above all. . .the unlimited growth of state power’, but it was detectable in all other forms of state interventionism departing from the liberal model they valorised (p. 111). Foucault recognises that the coup de force of the ordoliberals was their sweeping up of ‘concentration camps and social security records, in the same critique’ presenting them both as a consequence, albeit in different ways, of the gross inflation of the state (p. 116). Within this paradigm nothing ‘proves that the market economy is intrinsically defective since everything attributed to it as a defect and as the effect of its defectiveness should be attributed to the state’ (p. 116). Thus, Foucault summarises, the ‘ordoliberals say we should. . . adopt the free market as organizing and regulating principle of the state, from the start of its existence up to the last form of its interventions. In other words: a state under the supervision of the market rather than a market supervised by the state’ (p. 116, emphasis added).
However, it is entirely erroneous to perceive this body of ideas as simply ‘Adam Smith revived’ or the type of ‘market society’ that Marx unpicked and denounced in Capital (p 130). Central to this new ‘art of government’ is a rejection of nineteenth-century laissez-faire capitalism in favour of a more regulated approach. The evocative metaphor Foucault uses to describe this shift is that of the ‘Highway code’, which dictates that ‘vehicles’ will no longer be ‘allowed to circulate in any direction, according to whim, with avoidable endless congestion and accidents’ (p. 162). To prevent such mishaps, traffic will be strictly monitored with ‘fixed hours’, ‘routes’ and speeds imposed. At a time of ‘faster means of transport this code will not necessarily be the same as in the time of stagecoaches’ (p. 162).
This form of neoliberalism was not – as some were subsequently to argue – a project aiming to ‘roll back the state’ leaving people entirely to the whims of an unregulated market (Garrett, Reference Garrett2009). Neoliberal ‘governmental intervention is no less dense, frequent, active, and continuous than in any other system’ (p. 145). What occurs, however, is a reconstitution or remaking of the state, which becomes more vigilant and active in promoting the market economy. Neoliberalism departs not only from the classical liberalism of the nineteenth century but is also at odds with what Foucault terms ‘contemporary American anarcho-capitalism’ (p. 133). As advocated by its West German and Austrian proponents, neoliberalism is a ‘positive’ and ‘intervening liberalism’ (p. 133): an evolving form in which ‘economic processes and institutional framework call on each other, modify and shape each other in ceaseless reciprocity’ (p. 164).
The transformations willed by these neoliberals are associated with a novel ‘governmental style’ (p. 133) entailing different kinds of regulatory and ‘organizing’ actions (p. 138). Setting themselves firmly against Keynesianism, the promulgators of this new form of liberalism argued that there are instances where the state should emphatically not intervene: namely, there should be no substantial state intervention to respond to, and alleviate hardships prompted by, unemployment. Within this perspective, an unemployed person should never be perceived as a ‘social victim’ (p. 139). Foreshadowing the later lexicon on so-called ‘jobseekers’, the unemployed person was better understood as merely a ‘worker in transit. . . in transit between an unprofitable activity and more profitable activity’ (p. 139; see also GOV.UK, 2014).
Relatedly, social policy should not ‘function like a compensatory mechanism for absorbing or nullifying the possible destructive effects of the market’ (p. 160). Rather, the role of social policy should be one of facilitating market processes. As Foucault remarks:
there must be those who work and those who don't, there must be big salaries and small salaries, and also prices must rise and fall. Consequently, a social policy with the objective of even relative equalization, even a relative evening out, can only be anti-economic. Social policy cannot have equality as its objective. On the contrary, it must let inequality function (p. 143).
Social transfers – social security benefits – should be available, but only to provide a very basic ‘minimum’ for those who are not ‘able to ensure their own existence’ (p. 143). Central here is the ‘idea that the economy is a game’ with the state merely aspiring to safeguard ‘players from being excluded from the game’ (p. 202). Above this threshold, ‘everyone will have to be an enterprise for himself and his family’ (p. 206). More pervasively, this will be a society ‘formalized on the model’ of ‘competitive enterprise’ (p. 206). Echoing Marxist analysis, Foucault asserts, however, that there will continue to exist a ‘kind of infra- and supra-liminal floating population, a liminal population which, for an economy that has abandoned the objective of full employment, will be a constant reserve of manpower which can be drawn on if need be, but which can also be returned to its assisted status if necessary’ (p. 206); see also Marx (Reference May1990 [Reference Marx1867]): 794). This ‘floating population’ will be enabled ‘to live, after a fashion, and to live in such a way’ that it can ‘always be available for possible work, if market conditions require it’ (p. 207): an articulation, which describes the predicament of those now often referred to as the ‘precariat’ (Gill and Pratt, Reference Gill and Pratt2008).
Governments must not, therefore, ‘form a counterpoint or a screen. . . between society and economic processes’ (p. 145). Neither must they seek to ‘correct the destructive effects of the market on society’ (p. 145). The core function of governments, according to this radical neoliberal analysis, is ‘to intervene on society so that competitive mechanisms can play a regulatory role at every moment and every point in society’ thus ensuring ‘a general regulation of society by the market’ (p. 145).
As the quintessential anti-Beveridge blueprint, neoliberal society is unencumbered from the responsibility of ‘guarantee[ing] individuals against risks, whether these are individual risks, like illness or accidents, or collective risks, like damage, for example’ (p. 144). The only task for the ‘society, or rather the economy’, will be to maintain the rule of law and to ensure that every ‘individual has sufficient income to be able, either directly or as an individual, or through the collective means of mutual benefit organizations, to insure himself against existing risks, or the risks of life, the inevitability of old age and death, on the basis of his private reserves’ (p. 144, emphasis added).
According to Foucault, this type of ‘individual social policy’ is entirely counter-posed to ‘socialist social policy’ (p. 144). Founded on a socially atomising dynamic, it involves ‘an individualization of social policy and individualization through social policy, instead of collectivization and socialization by and in social policy’ (p. 144). For these European neoliberals, the ‘only one true and fundamental social policy’ is that aspiring to create ‘economic growth’ (p. 144). Nevertheless, Foucault concedes that there are various constraints hindering this project, including attachments people had to more benign and progressive forms of organising social life. Although he fails to mention it, the existence of the eastern German Democratic Republic (GDR) may also have acted as a brake on the evolution of ‘privatized social policy’ because it represented an alternative model of collective welfare provision. In France, the ‘German model’ was implanted ‘slowly, insidiously, and creakingly’ (p. 192). At the same time Foucault was delivering his lectures, reflecting the exhaustion of Labourism in the UK, the government of James Callaghan was limping through its final weeks in office (Hall et al., Reference Hall, Critcher, Jefferson, Clarke and Roberts1978). This also provided part of the historical context for his argument that everywhere ‘in spite of everything, social policy increasingly tends to follow’ the neoliberal programme (p. 144).
Anarcho-capitalism: American neoliberalism
In the second part of the ‘Birth of Biopolitics’ lecture series, Foucault turns his attention to US neoliberalism. Whilst sharing some of the characteristics of the ‘German model’, this variant originates from a markedly different national and cultural milieu. US neoliberalism is more encompassing than in the FRG and saturates the ‘whole way of being and thinking’ (p. 219). Foucault also acknowledges how US neoliberalism contains potent, popular components and a ‘sort of utopian focus which is always being revived’ (p. 218). It would, therefore, be misguided to merely perceive it as a ‘technical alternative for government’ since that would fail to grasp the project's powerful affective dimensions (p. 219). Indeed, this aspect was reflected in the subsequent presidential campaigns of Ronald Reagan, epitomised by his famous ‘Morning in America’ TV commercial from 1984.
Two years into the faltering one-term presidency of Jimmy Carter, Foucault identifies US neoliberalism as a ‘widespread movement of political opposition within American society’ (p. 193). He regards the 1930s as a crucial period and highlights the contributions of, for example, Henry Calvert Simons, an economist at the University of Chicago. The emerging corpus of US neoliberal ideas were further shaped in opposition to President Roosevelt's New Deal measures, Keynesian economic policy and a perceived inflation in the size of the federal government administration.
Subsequently, the theorisation of human capital was to become pivotal in emphasising the assets (or lack thereof) of individual agents within a competitive society. Human capital ‘represents two processes, one that we could call the extension of economic analysis into a previously unexplored domain, and second, on the basis of this, the possibility of giving a strictly economic interpretation of a whole domain previously thought to be non-economic’ (p. 219). In short, everything ‘for which human beings attempt to realize their ends, from marriage, to crime, to expenditures on children, can be understood “economically” according to a particular calculation of cost for benefit’ (Read, Reference Read2009: 28).
Primary definers include the University of Chicago economists, Theodore Schultz (Reference Schultz1961) and Gary Becker (Becker et al., Reference Becker, Ewald and Harcourt2012). According to these theorists, human capital is comprised of two elements: one ‘innate’ or ‘hereditary’ and the other, ‘acquired’ (p. 227). In terms of the first type, Foucault asserts that we ‘do not have to pay to have the body we have’ or for our ‘genetic make-up’ (p. 227). However, he invites us to engage in a bit of ‘science fiction’ and imagine how genetic risk profiling, and the related genetic matching of parents might boost or enhance the ‘innate’ capital of their offspring (p. 228). In later years, pre-birth screening has, in fact, become associated with greater calculation in this respect and more advanced forms of genetic engineering have multiplied these possibilities (Cooper, Reference Cooper2008). On another level, the increase in recourse to cosmetic surgery to alter and enhance given appearances has also occurred.
Turning to acquired human capital, Foucault suggests this is the form that most interests US neoliberals and this is reflected in their preoccupation with ‘the more or less voluntary formation of human capital in the course of individual lives’ (p. 229). How do individuals evolve into ‘abilities-machines’ to enhance their incomes? (p. 229). What in the ‘child's family life will produce human capital? What type of stimuli, form of life, and relationship with parents, adults and others can be crystallized into human capital?’ (p. 230). This is a grid of intelligibility in which ‘all the problems of health care and public hygiene must, or at any rate can, be rethought as elements which may or may not improve human capital’ (p. 230). Important here, therefore, are ‘educational investments’ which are ‘much broader than simple schooling or professional training’ (p. 229). This might include, for example, the ‘time parents devote to their children outside of simple educational activities’ (p. 229). The entire set of cultural stimuli received by the child will collectively contribute to the formation of acquired human capital. In this context, ‘more educated parents will form a higher human capital than parents with less education’ (p. 229). However, with a ‘whole environmental analysis’ of the child's life, it will be ‘possible to calculate, and to a certain extent to quantify, or at any rate measure’ the ‘possibilities of investment in human capital’ (pp. 229–30; see also Gudmand-Høyer and Hjorth, Reference Gudmand-Høyer and Hjorth2009).
Foucault takes child attachment discourse and situates it within his articulation of neoliberal ideas on human capital (pp. 243–44). He is not interested in the gendered dimension inherent in this arrangement (Thornton, Reference Thornton2014). Nor does he draw any, arguably relevant, parallels with contemporary theorisations developed by the Italian Marxist Autonomists, around the idea of the ‘social factory’ or ‘factory without walls’ in which the whole of society is placed at the disposal of profit (Negri, Reference Negri2005: 102–115: see also Garrett, Reference Garrett2014). On occasions, Foucault does refer to a Marxist framework, linking human capital to the work of Rosa Luxemburg. More specifically, the cultivation of human capital is interpreted as an attempt to counter the problem historically haunting capitalism – namely the threat of falling rates of profit – by dint of ‘innovation’ and investments ‘made at the level of man himself’ (p. 231). As people are turned into ‘abilities machines’, the honing of new skills, and not imperialism as suggested by Luxemburg, might be the vital new platform for capital accumulation.
Foucault is ambiguously attuned to how US neoliberals seek to ‘use the market economy and the typical analyses of the market economy to decipher non-market relationships’ and wider ‘social phenomena’ (p. 241). Comparing and contrasting this perspective with that of the German ordoliberals, he perceives how the Europeans were intent on ‘generalizing the “enterprise” form within the social body or social fabric’ (p. 241). ORDO social policy aspires, therefore, to conjure up a ‘vitalised entrepreneurial personality’ (Bonefeld, Reference Bonefeld2012: 642). Perhaps, this can be connected to how more contemporary social policy has become more orientated toward an emphasis on a zest for enterprise, self-activisation and resilience (Neocleous, Reference Neocleous2013; Garrett, Reference Garrett2016). The ‘individual's life itself – with his relationships to his private property, for example, with his family, household, insurance and retirement – must make him into a sort of permanent and multiple enterprise’ (p. 241). Furthermore, the ‘ordoliberal idea of making the enterprise the universally generalized social model’ functions as a ‘support to what they designate as the reconstruction of a set of what could be called “warm” moral and cultural values which are presented precisely as antithetical to the “cold” mechanism of competition’ (p. 242). Hence, it is important that economic processes are anchored within a political and moral framework – a politics of life or Vitalpolitik (see also Bonefeld, Reference Bonefeld2012). In comparison, the US variant of neoliberalism is ‘much more radical or much more complete or exhaustive’ (p. 243, emphasis added). This is because it involves ‘generalizing’ the ‘economic form of the market. . . throughout the social body and including the whole of the social system’ (p. 243, emphasis added). Across the entire society, this ‘economic analysis of the non-economic’ becomes the dominant ‘analytical schema or grid of intelligibility’ (p. 243).
Another key facet of the neoliberal project is ‘to object to activities of the public authorities on the grounds of their abuses, excesses, futility and wasteful expenditure’ (p. 246). This entails ‘anchoring and justifying a permanent political criticism of political and governmental action. . . scrutinizing every action of the public authorities in terms of the game of supply and demand, in terms of efficiency. . . and in terms of the cost of intervention by the public authorities in the field of the market’ (p. 246). Referring to the ‘cynicism of a market criticism’ which functions in the US as a ‘permanent exercise’ (p. 246), Foucault draws attention to right-wing think-tanks, such as the American Enterprise Institute, aiming to measure ‘all public activities in cost-benefit terms’ (p. 247). This incessant criticism of government policy amounts, in fact, to a ‘sort of permanent economic tribunal confronting government’ (p. 247).
Discussion: thinking with Foucault
Foucault's perspective is sufficiently ambiguous to suggest he may have been won over by aspects of the neoliberal analysis. Often it is unclear if he is simply mouthing the analyses of those whose theory he is expounding or if he is endorsing their contributions. This ventriloquizing tactic creates a blurring that makes it difficult for readers to identify his own perceptions and particular viewpoint. However, there is little evidence to suggest that he was unambiguously captivated by neoliberalism. Foucault was ‘certainly not a “socialist”, but that does not mean that his radical individualism’ entirely ‘fell under the auspices’ of neoliberalism (Balibar, Reference Balibar2015: 112). As we have seen, the tone of some of his remarks in the 1979 lectures is, perhaps, rather more ‘dystopian than utopian. . . despite the lack of explicit denunciations’ (Hansen, Reference Hansen2015: 298). Nevertheless, some passages hint at the lure that some key neoliberal ideas and ways of perceiving the world may have exercised on the iconic thinker. The attraction of the potent US variant appears particularly marked with Foucault maintaining that neoliberalism contains a ‘theme-program’ of a society which allows ‘difference’ to flourish and which potentially tolerates ‘minority individuals and practices’ (pp. 259–260). Arguably less ‘disciplinary’ than the previous modes of organising social and economic life he had spent his intellectual life examining, the US brand of neoliberalism appears to furnish ‘a precisely defined alternative to the other kinds of power and regulation’ (Dean, Reference Dean2014: 436).
Moreover, Foucault's antipathy to ‘philosophical humanism’ has affinities with the individualistic ethos of neoliberalism (Behrent, Reference Behrent, Zamora and Behrent2016: 30). Neoliberal economists only have ‘a “thin” theory of human nature’ (Behrent, Reference Behrent2013: 89). They do not, therefore, hold onto ideas about the essential, timeless attributes or qualities of human beings. Individuals make choices as market actors within dynamic, unsentimental market milieus. They are attuned to losses or the accrual of gains. Although not an unambiguously neoliberal thinker, Foucault shares this perception that there is no such thing as authentic ‘human nature’ (see also Cooper, Reference Cooper2017; see also Garrett, Reference Garrett2018: Ch. 9). He aims to reveal how the ‘assumption that individuals have a deep interiority and innermost truth – expressed in concepts such as the soul, psyche and subjectivity – is a coercive illusion’ (McNay, Reference McNay1994: 5). Indeed, his anti-humanism was one of the main points of contention in his TV debate with Chomsky in 1971 (Chomsky and Foucault, Reference Chomsky, Foucault and Davidson1997: 109).
Perhaps what also drew Foucault toward the neoliberals is a shared ‘suspicion of the state’ (Behrent, Reference Behrent, Zamora and Behrent2016: 29). In France, he gravitated toward those organisations and individuals intent on ‘reforming’ the Parti socialiste (PS) [the French Socialist Party] from around 1977. More specifically, that current within the party and associated media and think-tank niches connected to the ‘very social-liberal “Second Left”’ (Zamora, Reference Zamora, Zamora and Behrent2016a: 3). Michel Rocard and his non-Marxist Socialist Unity Party (PSU) faction within the PS were significant, as was the non-communist CFDT trade union, in terms of these efforts to theoretically re-map the role and functions of the state (Christofferson, Reference Christofferson2014). Here, a key intellectual figure was the historian and social policy expert Pierre Rosanvallon (Amable, Reference Amable2011; see also Rosanvallon, Reference Rosanvallon2000; Reference Rosanvallon2011). Unlike more dominant tendencies within the PS, this minority faction wanted to abandon a centralist conception of radical social transformation and the core political ideas circulated around autogestión, workers’ self-management (Behrent, Reference Behrent, Zamora and Behrent2016). Despite his ‘flirt’ with neoliberalism (Hansen, Reference Hansen2015), Foucault's interest in economic liberalism was prompted more by these social-democratic ‘alternatives to “social statism” than by overt sympathy for Thatcher, Reagan or Barre’ (Behrent, Reference Behrent, Zamora and Behrent2016: 39). Moreover, his social-policy-related comments might arguably resemble, in sketchy and pre-figurative form, those subsequently associated with the ‘Third Way’ (Giddens, Reference Giddens1994; Reference Giddens2001; see also Donzelot and Gordon, Reference Donzelot and Gordon2008; Garrett, Reference Garrett2008).
In this context, an interview Foucault gave to Robert Bono, the general secretary of the CFDT in 1983, becomes a particularly interesting coda to the lecture series. Here Foucault's concern was with the ‘perverse effects’ attached to the system of ‘social guarantees’ then available in France. This ‘system is now reaching its limits, as it comes up against the political, economic, and social rationality of modern societies’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 160). The phrase ‘modern societies’ is a peculiarly bland, lazy and decidedly untypical formulation by Foucault. However, he then moves on to focus on the problem with the social security system: namely, ‘on the one hand, more security is being given to people and, on the other hand, they are being made increasingly dependent’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 160). This security-dependence nexus is, in fact, the ‘infernal coupling’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 160). Here, Foucault's thinking appears to slide into the orbit of the US neoliberals he lectured on at the College de France. The keyword is, of course, ‘dependency’ which became such a lightening-rod for the galvanising politics of the US New Right (Gustafson, Reference Gustafson2011; Garrett, Reference Garrett2018b).
Alighting on the idea that the current social security system is anachronistic, Foucault (Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 166) asserts that we ‘are still bound up with an outlook that was formed between 1920 and 1940, mainly under the influence of Beveridge, a man who was born a hundred years ago’. He also airs his frustration at the lack of progress that is taking place. Possibly referring to the oil crisis, which began in October 1973, Foucault (Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 167) asserts that ‘the crisis that we are going through and which will soon be ten years old has given rise to nothing interesting or new. . . . It would seem that a sort of sterilization has taken place. . . no significant invention seems to have emerged’.
The unions – and he probably has in mind Bono's own CFDT – could, he suggests, ‘open up a space for invention’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 167). In terms of the ‘problems of health’, he maintains, ‘one is entering an order of values that gives rise to an absolute, infinite demand. The problem raised is, therefore, that of a relationship between an infinite demand and a finite system’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 173). This framing, markedly neoliberal in its implied concession regarding the need for welfare retrenchment, leads Foucault (Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 173) to suggest that ‘we must find a solution in technical terms’. He assures Bono that he is ‘not advocating. . . any kind of wild liberalism that would lead to individual coverage for those with means and an absence of cover for the rest’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 175).
The exchange then ends in a somewhat odd fashion with Foucault (Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 176) raising the question of ‘what life is worth and the way in which one can confront death’. Discussions, involving relevant individuals and organisations, might result in a ‘recognized right for everybody to kill himself when he wishes in decent conditions’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault and Kritzman1988: 176). However, in the context of the foregoing conversation, this question, treated with a certain levity by Foucault, also appears as a possible way of dealing with finite resources and the escalating costs borne by the social state.
Foucault does not address the issue of the economic inequalities which compel some to have recourse to social security. Poverty is rendered somewhat passé in his body of theorisation. Hence, ‘poverty and inequality were essentially a nineteenth-century problem. While he readily conceded that these issues were not entirely resolved, they no longer need to be addressed [he maintains in June 1978] “with the same urgency”’ (Zamora, Reference Zamora, Zamora and Behrent2016b: 68). A more significant problem was the more ‘diffuse systems of domination’ (Foucault in Zamora, Reference Zamora, Zamora and Behrent2016b: 68). Intermeshed problems of extreme wealth existing alongside poverty and other forms of material hardship became, for Foucault, replaced by a more central and abstract concern: pervasive and ‘excessive power’ (Zamora, Reference Zamora, Zamora and Behrent2016b: 68). Furthermore, conceptually, the welfare state is rendered problematic because it furnishes an example of ‘biopower’ and social security is conceived as a ‘tool that standardizes conduct and individuals’ (Zamora, Reference Zamora, Zamora and Behrent2016b: 69). According to Foucault's associate François Ewald, the welfare state actually fulfils the ‘dream of biopower’ (Zamora, Reference Zamora, Zamora and Behrent2016b: 69).
Relatedly, in the ‘biopolitics’ lectures, we get no real sense that people resist the imposition of neoliberalism. Aside from Foucault's brief reference to the general strike in the FRG opposing the neoliberal economic reconfiguration after the Second World War, there is hardly any mention of how people collectively organise or devise counter-hegemonic strategies. People are apt to ‘find ways of surviving, negotiating, accommodating, refusing and resisting’ (Clarke, Reference Clarke2005: 159). Yet, in Foucault's analysis, there are ‘few social forces from below’ or ‘shared struggles for freedom’. Such absences, in fact, are a ‘perennial limitation’ of his work (Brown, Reference Brown2015: 73–74). In contrast, a good deal of current analysis within the field of social policy explores such forces of resistance (Dukelow and Kennett, Reference Dukelow and Kennett2018; Gruegel and Riggirozzi, Reference Grugel and Riggirozzi2018; Ishkanian and Glasius, Reference Ishkanian and Glasius2018; Papadopoulous and Roumpakis, Reference Papadopoulos and Roumpakis2018; Schram and Pavlovskaya, Reference Schram and Pavlovskaya2017).
Despite these substantial problems with Foucault's own stance, his analysis seems to ‘predict crucial aspects of the marketization of social relations’ that subsequently occurred (McNay, Reference McNay2009: 56). Indeed, his articulation of neoliberalism predates its hegemonic consolidation. In this context, two aspects of Foucault's insights merit amplification. First, how the European Union (EU) is, perhaps, shaping the conduct of macro-level economic and social policy in line with ordoliberal principles. Second, how facets of social policy are being shaped in line with Foucault's account of neoliberalism.
EU ordoliberalism
A number of prominent ordoliberals opposed the creation of the European Economic Community because they believed it risked bloating bureaucracy and empowering ‘socialist tendencies in Western Europe’ (Slobodian, Reference Stavrakakis2014: 71). However, since Foucault delivered his lecture series, the ordoliberal approach has arguably deepened within the EU (Dullien and Guérot, Reference Dullien and Guérot2012). For some, the ordoliberal character of the EU is something of a ‘myth’ because evidence suggests that, for example, the vaunted ordoliberal attachment to the rule of law and agreed protocol is not respected. On the whole, despite the severity of the measures imposed on countries such as Greece for allegedly flouting agreements, EU policy elites – including the seemingly ‘rule-fixated Germans’ – are essentially pragmatists (Storey, Reference Storey2017).
Running counter to this perspective, it is possible to identify a ‘swarm’ of ‘disciplinary mechanisms’ aiming to tame any anti-neoliberal tendencies amongst individual EU countries (Foucault, Reference Foucault1991: 211; see also Ryner, Reference Ryner2015; Gill, Reference Gill2017). This encompasses a welter of measures aiming to control budgets (Biebricher, Reference Biebricher2017). Member states, failing to meet the necessary requirements, are arguably managed and treated like ‘welfare’ claimants with payments subject to strict ‘conditions’ and mandatory ‘reporting’ to assess ‘progress’ (Pentaraki, Reference Pentaraki2013, Stavrakakis, Reference Stavrakakis2013). Indeed, countries under Troika administration have tended to be treated as the ‘shameful class. . . always separated from the other. . . dressed in sackcloth’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault1991: 182; see also Garrett, Reference Garrett2012).
A good example, of how the ordoliberal management of EU affairs are conducted along ordoliberal lines, is provided by what occurred in Italy in 2011. Late that year, the evolving crisis in the euro zone brought the country to the verge of financial default (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013). This crisis coincided with the centre-right government of Silvio Berlusconi (2008-2011). On 5 August 2011, Jean Claude Trichet (then president of the European Central Bank (ECB)) and Mario Draghi (now president of the ECB) sent a ‘detailed and private letter to the Berlusconi government specifying the structural reforms it had to introduce in order to receive ECB support for keeping interest rates low on Italian bonds’ (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013: 424). Subsequently made public in the Italian press, this letter called on Berlusconi to quickly introduce a number of draconian measures including: full liberalisation of local public services and professional services; the tailoring of wages and working conditions to employers’ specific needs; a thorough review of the rules regulating the hiring and dismissal of employees; a set of ‘active’ labour market policies; the adoption of expenditure cuts; making more stringent the eligibility criteria for old-age pensions; the reduction in the cost of public employees. It was explicitly stated that all actions listed – something of an ordoliberal manifesto – had to be taken as soon as possible with ‘decree-laws, followed by parliamentary ratification by the end of September 2011’ (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013: 423–4).
Not untypically, the Berlusconi government assured the ECB that these measure would be expeditiously introduced, but once financial support had been received his government ‘paid only lip-service to the ECB's requests, deciding to postpone the introduction of the required policy measures’ (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013: 424). However, in November 2011, once again ‘fearing the financial default of the country, the government was obliged to resign’ (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013: 424). Fabbrini wryly observes that the ‘non-confidence vote against the Berlusconi government was expressed by the financial markets and the main Eurozone institutions, rather than by Italian voters’ (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013: 424). Without any elections taking place, Mario Monti – a former EU commissioner, member of the Trilateral Commission and senior advisor to Goldman Sachs – assembled a new government mostly comprised of technocrats. On account of the suspension of the ‘normal functioning of electoral democracy, albeit temporarily. . . the Monti government was able to introduce some of the reforms set out in the ECB letter because of its relative independence from the need for electoral consensus’ (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013: 425). Indeed, the new government introduced neoliberal ‘reforms’ that the governments of the 2000s did not ‘even dare to submit to their parliamentary majority and public opinion’ (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013: 433). This was attributable to its ‘independence from electoral pressures’ (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013: 433). The Monti government, as suggested by the ‘ECB letter, had frequent recourse to decree-laws in order to avoid parliamentary negotiations on its proposals’ (Fabbrini, Reference Fabbrini2013: 433). This administration, unencumbered by the inconvenience of electoral democracy, lasted for just over a year. However, this whole affair provides a good illustration of how ordoliberal approaches dilute, even destroy, democratic processes.
Social policy
According to the ordoliberals, social policy is ‘no longer a means for countering the economic, but a means for sustaining the logic of competition’ (Donzelot, Reference Donzelot2008: 124). This dimension has become magnified in recent years with more coercive and punitive forms of social security provision – recoded as ‘welfare’ – becoming embedded (Fletcher and Flint, Reference Fletcher and Flint2018; see also Garrett, Reference Garrett2007; Reference Garrett, Sheehan and Ogloff2015a). Harsher regimes have contributed to processes of ‘deproletarianization’ similar to those promoted by Röpke (see also Bonefeld, Reference Bonefeld2012). For him, welfare policy had to be ‘equivalent to a policy of eliminating the proletariat’ (Röpke, Reference Röpke1950: 225). That is to say, welfare must seek to prevent employed and unemployed workers from collectivising their interests and from meaningfully forging bonds of solidarity which would potentially culminate in the formation of a collective class consciousness. As Foucault observed, the ordoliberals were committed to crafting policies and practices preventing the working class from coalescing as a potential dual power. Subsequently, policy has continued to function in this way. Relatedly, across Europe and elsewhere, a range of anti-trade union laws has endeavoured to undergird this project (Ishkanian and Glasius, Reference Ishkanian and Glasius2018). As Foucault highlights, according to the ordoliberals, alternative ways had to be found to cultivate non-threatening forms of collective consciousness, group identity and social cohesion. For Röpke (Reference Röpke1957), religious morality might serve as the glue holding together societies perpetually at risk of dissolving because of market competition. In his support of the Apartheid regime in South Africa, he also implicitly recognised the advantages of exclusionary and racialised forms of attachment and solidarity (Slobodian, Reference Slobodian2014).
Perhaps the interest in promoting ‘social inclusion’ hints at a similar concern, amongst contemporary elites, that competition might result in a ‘social explosion’ if the state fails to calibrate its interventions to counter such inherent tendencies (Röpke, Reference Röpke1950: 181). Since Foucault gave his lectures, social inclusion talk has become ‘diffused through international policy networks’ particularly within the EU (Béland, Reference Béland, Béland and Petersen2014: 143). Here, the ‘inverse of exclusion is thus “integration” and the process of attaining it, “insertion”’ (Silver, Reference Silver1994: 542). In the UK, by the mid-1990s, social inclusion had, of course, become central to New Labour's approach to social justice issues (Commission on Social Justice, 1994; Winslow and Hall, Reference Winslow and Hall2013). This and similar discourses potentially inject a ‘warmth’ into the cold, calculative logic of competition and seek to rhetorically ensure that all ‘players’ are kept within the neoliberal ‘game’ (Donzelot, Reference Donzelot2008: 131). The aim is to generate social policy as a ‘struggle against exclusion on condition. . . that it is not aiming to reduce inequalities’ (Donzelot, Reference Donzelot2008: 131). This perspective is not, therefore, rooted in a ‘disavowal’ or dismantling of the ‘social’, as some commentators suggest (Brown, Reference Brown2018); rather it is one which tries to reconstitute the ‘social’ in line with the imperatives of unrelenting market competition. As we have seen, Foucault emphasises that ‘morals play a central role’ in the establishment and maintenance of a neoliberal society and social policy plays a role in operationalising the values of such a society (Amable, Reference Amable2011: 4). In terms of social protection and housing, this dimension was to the fore in the Blairite mantra of ‘no rights without responsibilities’ (Swanson, Reference Swanson2000).
Röpke (Reference Röpke1950: 181) had called for a ‘high standard of business ethics’ amongst elites, viewing this as a vital element within the ordoliberal vision. Post-crash, this discursive preoccupation has also been reflected in a new rhetorical attentiveness to nurturing ‘inclusive capitalism’ (Brading, 212; Carney, Reference Carney2014; Lagarde, Reference Lagarde2014). Similar motivations are integral to failed political projects pivoting on social policy keywords such as the ‘big society’ (Cabinet Office, 2010) and the promotion of ‘happiness’ (Seligman, Reference Seligman2015). Ordoliberal preoccupations with the ‘social’ were also to the fore in Theresa May's faltering project to chart a ‘new centre ground’ in post-Brexit British politics (May, Reference May2016a; Reference May2016b). None of this implies that everyone should be included or that everyone should, for example, have their happiness guaranteed. As recognised by Foucault, some groups and individuals – encountering a ‘hostile environment’ (Davies, Reference Davies2018) – are to be purposely prevented from entering the circle of inclusivity whilst some are expelled (Rose, Reference Rose2000). In a contemporary context, mechanisms of neoliberal exclusion are also likely to take racialised and nationalistic forms and are bound up with new patterns of surveillance, containment and incarceration (Lazzarato, Reference Lazzarato2009; Wacquant, Reference Wacquant2009; see also Garrett, Reference Garrett2015b). The incessant, key aspiration is to constitute the ‘social’ in such a way as to try to ensure that forms of working-class solidarity are inhibited and blocked. Fundamentally, therefore ‘market behaviour’ needs to be embedded into the ‘psycho-moral forces’ which a competitive society is able to strategically draw on and deploy (Röpke in Bonefield, 2012: 641). Furthermore, as Lazzarato (Reference Marx2009) suggests, fear, insecurity, racism and war are increasingly functioning as ways to create toxic forms of social cohesion and integration within hyper-competitive societies (see also Fekete, Reference Fekete2018).
Conclusion
Referring to his contributions as ‘undermining tunnels’ [galleries de mines], Foucault compares himself to an artisan or ‘geologist’ examining the ‘layers of terrain, the folds, the faults’ (Foucault in Elden, Reference Elden2017: 187). Undoubtedly, he performs valuable intellectual work in excavating the origins of neoliberalism and in pinpointing the roles played by the project's prime ‘organic intellectuals’ in Europe and the US (Hoare and Nowell Smith, Reference Hoare and Nowell Smith2005).
Correcting a pervasive theoretical bias focusing on American neoliberalism (Bourdieu and Wacquant, Reference Bourdieu and Wacquant1999; Reference Bourdieu and Wacquant2001), his attentiveness to the ‘German’ roots of much contemporary neoliberal thinking is timely and enlightening. Foucault's own perceptions on American ‘anarcho’, ‘utopian’ neoliberalism and ideas on human capital are ambiguously important in explaining recent developments relating to social policy. Ten years after the English translation of ‘The Birth of Biopolitics’ lectures, the challenge lies in utilising facets of Foucault's theorisation whilst still thinking against and beyond him.
