Fuzzy left

However laudable the intention though, the project was obviously risky, considering the implied obligation for the author to take enough distance from his own biases and conflicts of interest. As a part-time teacher myself, and of economics for non-economists at that, this obligation is something I manage with extreme precaution, and I must admit I was somewhat skeptical of Cornellier’s commitment to maintain a fair perspective. In the end, although his efforts deserve praise in many ways, his essay is indeed quite misleading where it counts most, and in particular for those he intended to help.

But before I get to the heart of the matter, it is important to take a peak into the ideological battleground upon which a large portion of Québec’s francophone intelligentsia sees itself fighting. English Canada columnists and thinkers often oversimplify this in their own complacent ways, and one must certainly refrain here from generalizing a way of thinking beyond those who do share it. Otherwise, one replicates and thus reinforces the exact same mistake one thought was the problem in the first place. In this case, although much of this mindset is shared in fact by many Quebecers as well as much of France’s chatting class, it is neither specifically French nor is it an essential feature of that culture. Such prominent figures as Descartes or Voltaire, but even more to the point the likes of Jean-Baptiste Say or Frédéric Bastiat, are certainly no less French for not fitting neatly in the conventional wisdom about an alleged cultural war between anglo commercial pragmatism and franco refined nobility.

Yet there is no denying that a francophone tradition does exists which promotes this kind of stereotype. Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s “noble sauvage” was certainly a paradigmatic father figure for this idealist romanticism that scorns at day-to-day mundane trade-offs, which were already giving its imperial edge to British commercial savvy a couple of centuries ago. Rooted in radical moral dualism such as that of Malebranche, for example, as opposed to Descartes’ more moderate and relativist stance, it has merged with nineteenth century collectivist metaphysics and nurtured, up to this day, a special brand of social science that permeates part of the writings of such intellectual monuments in Québec as Fernand Dumont, for example. Add to this a strand of progressive catholicism which uses the wrath of Jesus against the vendors of the Temple as legitimizing the demonization of the profit motive, and you have the main ingredients of an ideology defined around some collective underdog in the temporal realm, which believes itself to be superior in the moral/cultural/spiritual one. The way some influent anglo-Canadians act or speak as to somehow justify this mythology in responding to it with their own is also quite interesting, but that will be for some other time.

Now one should also be a bit familiar with the idea of a “communauté de regard”, a community of outlook or gaze, which is an important concept that I suspect Cornellier has borrowed from Dumont’s defense of Québec nationalism, and which can also be associated to the main communitarian critique of political liberalism. Page 26 of his book, Cornellier writes (my translation):

“Will one understand the importance I give to this community of outlook, even if I know it to be always relative, which ties me to those that I trust and whom I need in order to enliven, nuance, and move my conscience of what is elsewhere, of afar? (…) without the recognition of a common culture at the moment of departure, how can I hope to succeed in transporting myself in thinking towards other points of view?”

In principle, this is supposed to account for the idea that one cannot think out of an a-historical, “clean slate” type of identity, and thus that one needs to look outside from somewhere, a real cultural situation, with embedded moral pre-conceived ideas. Seems fair enough. In practice though, it calls at least for somewhat of an arbitrary delineation of such a point of departure, whether in a language, a particular bit of historical background, a specific set of cultural or ideological references, and then how wide or narrow in time or space can we extend the reach of this “common culture”? Certainly one can argue in favour of some particular perspective here, but surely this must be done explicitly, otherwise the only community of outlook one participates in is that in which everyone agrees with one’s own ideas. This is exactly where I have a problem with Cornellier’s book. Putting forward a Québécois perspective is fair game, even a sovereigntist or anti-capitalist one, but there is a way to do this when one wants to teach without endoctrinating, and this introduction to handling the first duty of a responsible citizen is quite inept in this regard.

Declaring for example, that Le Devoir has more credible concern for the public interest than its competitors because of its “independance” from any other financial powers than its readership, is to claim the validity of an unverifiable hypothesis that must first be recognized as such, whatever its arguable merits. Cornellier is entitled to his beliefs, but this is certainly one that the readers of his book should be invited to compare to rival propositions, rather than stand alone as if there were no alternative. A case could be made that these other powers, as long as they remain in competition with yet others, may actually enhance freedom of speech in many ways rather than constrain it. But you will not have learned of it in Cornellier’s book, that’s for sure. Yet he will relish in exposing how the “common sense” perspective of La Presse can be loaded with populist rhetorics and capitalist ideology. For anyone who has read his columns on economics-related books over the past year, showing mostly how little understanding he has in these matters, this is hardly surprising. Still, is it fair to introduce a subject without at least stating the main theses of opposing points of view on the matter? Is ignorance an acceptable defense when one claims to teach?

Actually, insofar as fairness is the focus here, I must give praise where it is deserved, as again the purpose of the book is certainly a noble one, and it is handled quite efficiently at least on the surface, and in almost all of the first half, actually. Cornellier is absolutely right in defending the overall quality of Québec’s media and journalists in his opening remarks, and he follows with a good summary account of important issues, such as distinguishing appropriately between information and opinion as well as between different genres, and also in relation to the question of the social role of medias as well as the different ways in which the ideal of objectivity can be understood.

But the main problem I have with this book appears mostly in its treatment of this last question, when it comes to the influence of commercial constraints, which apparently can only have deleterious effects on freedom of speech and limit the capacity of readers for enlightenment. In fact, by enrolling a host of colleagues and analysts in a “communauté de regard” unanimously dissing the corrupting effect of economic competition, the purported “relativity” of Cornellier’s outlook is only given rhetorical status, and it is no surprise that in the second part, we assist to quite a complacent portrayal of the moral superiority of the man’s own employer, as Le Devoir is owned by a foundation financially supported by the readers. This supposedly makes it a more credible ally of the public interest, as if the public interest necessarily coincided with how the author and Le Devoir’s generous readers define it, whatever that is.

In all fairness yet again, Cornellier’s comments on individual journalists in that second half of the book are respectful and enlightening in many respects. Furthermore, neither he nor his bosses have ever made a mystery of their left-leaning sovereigntist stance. Yet it is not enough to admit belonging to one side of a debate, if one misrepresents this very debate in the first place. When Bernard Landry was attempting to defend Jacques Parizeau’s involvement in the 2003 provincial election, his mantra was the classical “audi alteram partem”, listen to the other party. But even this appearance of intellectual generosity is nowhere to be seen in Cornellier’s dealings with Québécor’s convergence (the owner of Le Journal de Montréal also owns many other printed media, the main private TV network and the main cable company in Québec) or with Gesca’s editorial “common sense” (Gesca is part of the Power Corporation empire and owns La Presse and other regional dailies such as Quebec City’s Le Soleil and Ottawa’s Le Droit).

Now the problem is not with deciphering the ideological implications of particular editorial policies or commercial practices, but precisely to do it from a point of view that is not properly clarified. If all you end up doing is pretending to side with justice and freedom against economic efficiency at all human cost, you are not helping anyone understand the deeper issues involved, any more than claims to “common sense” can, that’s for sure. To accuse others of turning their corners a bit quick, and be completely dismissive as to your own intellectual shortcuts, is a very strange way to encourage the critical thinking that is the single most important tool you need when reading a newspaper.

Let me also remind that potential reader how anti-socratic is Cornellier’s underlying assumption. What is supposed to be obvious here is that a given perspective on things is only credible as a function of the interests it serves. Now there is no doubt that in actual decision-making, precautions must be taken for conflicts of interests to be eliminated as much as possible. It is also clear that one’s own interests will influence one’s concept of the public interest and thus also the position he or she will endorse in this regard. The step that must absolutely not be taken beyond this point though, is to suppose that the validity or the relevance of the arguments one will offer to defend his case is itself a function of how he or she will benefit from it, or worse that the wealthier the proponent of a thesis, the more magically influential his case will be in the public discourse.

This is in contradiction with the very idea that arguments stand on their own logical strength, an idea without which the whole project of helping citizens with their newspaper reading becomes completely futile. Cornellier himself puts it very elegantly when he states in his conclusion that (my translation again)

“(…) reading the daily paper gives in fact, to whomever practices it, a grip on the world that nothing else could provide, by arousing curiosity in every direction and by reminding one that it’s up to himself to become an actor of the marching world.” (p.159)

But if there is any better way to practice this activity and become such an actor, a more intelligent way at least, it must mean there is a way to distinguish the good arguments under the pen of anyone, however rich and spoiled, from the bad ones even if they come from the worthiest of souls. No argument of authority should move the responsible citizen of pluralist societies, including the authority of the underdog, however large or noble his community of outlook. It’s not a matter of whose opinion you should trust anyway, but of why you shouldn’t trust yourself just as much as anyone else.

Lire le Québec au quotidien is in this sense quite an instructive example of the peculiar mindset and rhetorical strategies of a certain intellectual elite in Québec, mostly useful for eyes already trained in spotting conventional wisdom, hidden as it is behind that familiar veil of moral and cultural superiority by those who apparently need not justify themselves. For sure, other political sects work in similar ways. In the wake of the Québec nation debate, the paranoid denial of diversity that emerged again in the name of some lofty universalist ideal, which conveniently puts the burden of proof of their own worth on minorities’ shoulders, was certainly a most telling example.

But the point I’m making here is that such strategies, while democratic debate does require free trade of all ideas among equal citizens, are just not good enough when one’s ambition is precisely to provide resources to play that trading game “intelligently”. At the end of the day, and despite a good start, the main failure here is in refusing to trust the reader’s real capacity for critical thinking, inviting him instead to take refuge under the intellectual protection of Cornellier’s very own self-congratulatory ideological community. Too bad. In doing so, he’s also letting his opponents believe they might as well go on doing the same.