The misplaced desire to accumulate endless material possessions is as old as sin itself, but during most of the Christian era it was acknowledged to be a bad thing, even if people often gave into it. That was all changed on a large scale during the course of the French Revolution.
A French Catholic Priest called Emmanuel Joseph Sièyes, more commonly known as Abbé Sièyes, was one of the leaders and great mediocre thinkers during the Revolution and, along with Bernard Mandeville, lays claim to the title of "Father of Modern Materialism". Unlike Mandeville, however, who caused great scandal among his peers, Sièyes' opinion was highly influential because he didn't come out and say "materialism is good". He was much more subtle in his presentation, presenting his position as part of a greater political struggle and indirectly allowing it to influence society around him. It is questionable, in fact, if he was intentionally materialistic in his outlook, or simply that he just didn't consider the consequences. In any case, the impact of his pamphlet Qu'est-ce que le tiers-état? (What is the Third Estate?) was felt quickly.
In Qu'est-ce que le tiers-état?, Sièyes puts forth a political vision in which the social contribution of the Third Estate, that is, material wealth, is the only contribution that matters to a nation. (For an explanation of the three estates, please see my previous post). The Third Estate, he argues, is an nation complete in itself, and the First and Second Estates are just parasites that prevent this nation from reaching greatness.
Now it's important, when reading any political thinker, to properly regard them as products of their time and, certainly, in Sièyes time, there was a lot of good reason to be angry with both Church and aristocracy. But the difference between an ordinary political thinker and a great one is that the former attempts reform of the political institution simply as it appears in the here and now, and strives for the benefit of their own constituents; whereas the latter sees political institutions as they've changed through history, not for the sake of mere tradition, but in order to understand the good and the bad of those institutions properly, and the great thinker is not just concerned about the immediate welfare of his constituents but looks to how the good of all social sectors can flourish to the benefit of all.
Sièyes was very much a product of his time and very much an ordinary thinker. He had no great vision of a national flourishing, but was just able to dress up his ideas to look good. He didn't really think through the consequences of what he was proposing.
It is certainly true that, at the time, the First and Second Estates were not contributing to society according to their respective charters, and in that sense they were parasitic, but Sièyes, instead of seeing the other estates as they ought to be and as they had been in the past, and challenging them to return to their original charters, he only saw them as they directly manifested in the now and, subsequently, considered them to be redundant.
The saddest thing about his vision for society was its utter lack of imagination. All he was able to see was what was before his eyes and this led him to conclude that the material wealth of the Third Estate was useful, so the Third Estate was the entirety of the nation, while the others made no direct contribution and, therefore, needed to be abolished. As a result, the society that emerged from the Revolution was one in which the spiritual nourishment of the Church was not a consideration, and the broad justice and tradition of the old aristocracy were replaced by a more expedient form of justice. Because of the shortcomings of the First and Second Estates, an entire generation was living in a world where the goodness of a spiritual and broadly just society were not experienced, and, not being experienced, were not given consideration in the new society the Revolution was building.
Sièyes' betrayal of the faith he had promised to preserve, and his wild attack on the status quo of his day, challenges us today to consider political reform with a greater sense of prudence. We often see injustice in the society in which we live, and our knee-jerk reaction is to try to fix it without consideration of the wider consequences. Rather than just settling on the first solution we can think of, we need to ask: how did we get to this position in the first place? What are the original goods that were intended by the existing institutions? Is there a way of fixing the problem without forfeiting the intended good?
The social reforms Sièyes introduced are a key factor in the materialistic nature of contemporary secular society. Why is it that we take for granted that secular society must necessarily be materialistic and expedient, while spiritual and moral concerns are relegated to the private sphere? This is a question I'll explore further in future posts, but if you've got an answer you'd like to share in the comments I'd love to hear from you.
In Qu'est-ce que le tiers-état?, Sièyes puts forth a political vision in which the social contribution of the Third Estate, that is, material wealth, is the only contribution that matters to a nation. (For an explanation of the three estates, please see my previous post). The Third Estate, he argues, is an nation complete in itself, and the First and Second Estates are just parasites that prevent this nation from reaching greatness.
Now it's important, when reading any political thinker, to properly regard them as products of their time and, certainly, in Sièyes time, there was a lot of good reason to be angry with both Church and aristocracy. But the difference between an ordinary political thinker and a great one is that the former attempts reform of the political institution simply as it appears in the here and now, and strives for the benefit of their own constituents; whereas the latter sees political institutions as they've changed through history, not for the sake of mere tradition, but in order to understand the good and the bad of those institutions properly, and the great thinker is not just concerned about the immediate welfare of his constituents but looks to how the good of all social sectors can flourish to the benefit of all.
Sièyes was very much a product of his time and very much an ordinary thinker. He had no great vision of a national flourishing, but was just able to dress up his ideas to look good. He didn't really think through the consequences of what he was proposing.
It is certainly true that, at the time, the First and Second Estates were not contributing to society according to their respective charters, and in that sense they were parasitic, but Sièyes, instead of seeing the other estates as they ought to be and as they had been in the past, and challenging them to return to their original charters, he only saw them as they directly manifested in the now and, subsequently, considered them to be redundant.
The saddest thing about his vision for society was its utter lack of imagination. All he was able to see was what was before his eyes and this led him to conclude that the material wealth of the Third Estate was useful, so the Third Estate was the entirety of the nation, while the others made no direct contribution and, therefore, needed to be abolished. As a result, the society that emerged from the Revolution was one in which the spiritual nourishment of the Church was not a consideration, and the broad justice and tradition of the old aristocracy were replaced by a more expedient form of justice. Because of the shortcomings of the First and Second Estates, an entire generation was living in a world where the goodness of a spiritual and broadly just society were not experienced, and, not being experienced, were not given consideration in the new society the Revolution was building.
Sièyes' betrayal of the faith he had promised to preserve, and his wild attack on the status quo of his day, challenges us today to consider political reform with a greater sense of prudence. We often see injustice in the society in which we live, and our knee-jerk reaction is to try to fix it without consideration of the wider consequences. Rather than just settling on the first solution we can think of, we need to ask: how did we get to this position in the first place? What are the original goods that were intended by the existing institutions? Is there a way of fixing the problem without forfeiting the intended good?
The social reforms Sièyes introduced are a key factor in the materialistic nature of contemporary secular society. Why is it that we take for granted that secular society must necessarily be materialistic and expedient, while spiritual and moral concerns are relegated to the private sphere? This is a question I'll explore further in future posts, but if you've got an answer you'd like to share in the comments I'd love to hear from you.
But surely England had moved along Sieyes' lines well before the French Revolution - which they wisely opposed. Parliament reigned supreme in Britain not so long after Henry tore the nation from the Church. The financial interests that the MPs represented had already chucked out a monarch or two, basically to protect their investments.
ReplyDeleteThe growth in materialism probably has more to do with key technological breakthroughs which allowed for the industrial revolution and the discovery of rich new markets around the world that could be dominated easily enough. The lure of these fat markets was too strong for any one nation, however strong and competent their first two estates were. If England didn't colonize and trade in slaves and whatever, then the French would steal the opportunity, or the Spanish, or the Ottomans.
The growth in these Empires either necessitated severing ties to the Vatican, or severe hypocrisy and arm twisting applied to the church. Either way, it seems inevitable that the role of the papacy and monarchies had to evolve to suite the new times - and Yahweh allowed it all to happen so that some new and greater good could come from it. Like, idk, the Jesuits.
My point is that you're living in an obscure past that is totally oversentimentalized. And you're wrong, quite wrong, to blame it all on a single French radical, who was just a pebble articulating what the great wheel of time has already made a reality.
Your job should really be to honestly look at the actual world and see how individuals can be reached with the truth in these times. It should be creative and honest and not some throw-back to a by-gone era where the church weilded legal power - sometimes to excess and with scandal.
Things change! The Church changes! The truth is eternal and still being heard and ready to be repackaged in new ways that reach hearts. We can bang on about historical grievances forever. Heck, it would have been easier for Christ to arrive when Solomon was in his glory, but He chose a very difficult political time in which to become one with us. I put it to you that, ultimately, politics never, ever matters to a true witnessing of the gospel.
Thank you for your comment Peter.
DeleteFirstly, yes, the English Parliament gained a lot more influence after the separation of England from the Roman Church. However, the estates remained intact in England, and the Parliament continued to be modelled on the estate system. The "Commons" continued to represent the Third Estate and the "Lords Spiritual and Temporal" continued to represent the First and Second Estates. The MPs might have acted to protect their selfish financial interests, but no one tried to deny that there was an hypocrisy going on. What was different in the French Revolution is that all pretence was shrugged off and materialism became institutionalised. At least with hypocrisy there is a recognition that there is a more ideal situation. With the dissolution of the First and Second Estates in France, the ideal was lost to the system.
Secondly, this isn't a theological blog. I'm not here to speculate on what God's will was, I'm here to examine the institutional changes themselves. Are we "better off" now than we would have been if these upheavals didn't happen? Who really knows? And by what benchmark do we judge better from worse? If you want to get theological: does God sometimes allow evil to happen? That would appear to be the case. Therefore, was it God's will that said evil occurred?
Finally, to answer your remaining point, we can only understand the "actual world" by examining how this world came to be. As it is said, to not understand history is to be doomed to repeat it. If you're going to give an honest critique of the "actual world" you first need to know why world is the way it is. The idea that we can examine and critique the contemporary world without reference to history is to make the exact same mistake the Abbé Sièyes made. Christ might have chosen to become incarnate when he did instead of during the glory of Solomon, but Christ demonstrated in His teachings a more intimate knowledge of the history of the chosen people than anything a contemporary historian could hope for.
Perhaps you're right in your closer that politics stands a distant second to the true witnessing of the Gospel, but to argue that a thorough understanding of politics is useless to said witness is a non sequitur.
Thanks for the reply Peter, but your distinction between institutional hypocrisy and institutional evil doesn't sound all that convincing, considering that they both amount to the same thing.
ReplyDeleteHistory was set on a track of events long before that I don't think it could really deviate from. But I look forward to reading your ideas about how things further unfolded and ideas for the future
I think there is a fundamental difference between an institution that has just structures but is infected with immoral behaviour and an institution that has injustice build into its structures. In the former case, there is a greater opportunity for reform from within, since reform can be enacted with reference to tradition. In the later case, there is no just tradition in the institution, so a just reform must necessarily cite novelty.
DeleteI don't believe history was set on any tracks. History is written by the free will of the individuals who comprise society. Sure, society might be guided by the preconceptions of ideas taken for granted, but a single individual can completely derail it. In the period of time we are talking about here, Europe might have been headed down a particular direction, but a single individual, Napoleon Bonaparte, completely derailed it. Look at a maps of Europe before and after Bonaparte and tell me that the changes were organic.
What? Napoleon was an organic development of the times - an industrial revolution, developments in warfare and the triumph of the individual over all other concerns. Inevitable to what we're talking about, like Hitler was
DeleteInevitable to a postmodern relativistic nihilism that was just around the corner.
You say that history turns on single great men, but I say it evolves on a wave of individual's behavior over a long period, from which certain individuals eventually emerge to effectively
articulate what is already in most men's hearts
It sounds like you've been reading too much Asimov. The idea that historical "progress" is inevitable is based on a Calvinistic fatalism, and is exactly what the Whigs would have us believe. In stark contrast, John Paul II's Reconciliatio et Paenitentia discusses the concept of social sin - containing the idea that institutional changes are the result of cumulative acts of free will of many individuals. I guess at this point we've gone quite off topic and might have to agree to disagree for now, but I'll be sure to write a post on Whig history very soon.
Delete