32 Gregory Bateson: A practitioner’s perspective Victoria Fontan I turn my eyes to the schools & universities of Europe And there behold the Loom of Locke whose Woof rages dire, Wash’d by the Water-wheels of Newton: black the cloth In heavy wreathes folds over every Nation: cruel works Of many Wheels I view, wheel without wheel, with cogs tyrannic Moving by compulsion each other, not as those in Eden, which, Wheel within wheel, in freedom revolve in harmony & peace. William Blake A colleague recently told me that Afghanistan has become a cemetery for peace projects. Over the past ten years, billions of dollars have been spent to alleviate people’s suffering, to ensure that the country would embark on a sustainable recovery, this to no avail, Taliban or no Taliban. To the average observer, throwing money and goods at a country’s economy can only serve the overall goal of its recovery, this for the general good. To the
31
Embed
Gregory Bateson: A Practitionner’s Perspective’ in Dietrich, et al., The Palgrave International handbook of Peace Studies
This document is posted to help you gain knowledge. Please leave a comment to let me know what you think about it! Share it to your friends and learn new things together.
Transcript
32 Gregory Bateson: A practitioner’s perspective
Victoria Fontan
I turn my eyes to the schools & universities of Europe
And there behold the Loom of Locke whose Woof rages dire,
Wash’d by the Water-wheels of Newton: black the cloth
In heavy wreathes folds over every Nation: cruel works
Of many Wheels I view, wheel without wheel, with cogs tyrannic
Moving by compulsion each other, not as those in Eden, which,
Wheel within wheel, in freedom revolve in harmony & peace.
William Blake
A colleague recently told me that Afghanistan has become
a cemetery for peace projects. Over the past ten years,
billions of dollars have been spent to alleviate people’s
suffering, to ensure that the country would embark on a
sustainable recovery, this to no avail, Taliban or no
Taliban. To the average observer, throwing money and
goods at a country’s economy can only serve the overall
goal of its recovery, this for the general good. To the
local farmer, the free supply of grounded wheat from
benevolent nations to post-war Afghanistan means that he
has no choice to abandon the culture of wheat to the
benefit of poppies, hence contribute to the exponential
increment in opium trafficking towards Western nations.
After spending the last ten years visiting conflict areas
and teaching Peace and Conflict Studies, I was left with
the distinct feeling that I would not be able to spend
the next ten years of my life doing more of the same.
Mission after mission, course after course, I came to the
realization that our field is more part of the problem
than it is part of the solution. When peace has become
more of an industry for the general good than a way of
life, how can we, well-intentioned human beings fit in?
How can we reconcile our ethics with our activities?
Gregory Bateson wrote that a message about peace is not
part of the peace and that the more we feel that we can
wage ‘war’ on a problem, eradicate it, the more we
contribute to it (Bateson, 1972a). What would he have
said? Had he been alive to witness the ‘Yes We Can’
campaign of US President Barack Obama? Crowned not by his
election but by his immediate showcase decision to close
the Guantanamo Detention Centre, a decision yet to be
applied? What would he have said to our growing concerns
about climate change, he who more than forty years ago
documented environmental changes on the coastal region of
California? The discovery of Gregory Bateson’s work has
inspired me to spend the next ten years of my career
focusing on how Peace and Conflict Studies can become
part of the peace that is so often taken for granted.
This essay will review Gregory Bateson’s work in light of
the challenges faced by our discipline, this alongside
his life.
Transdisciplinarity in the making
Gregory Bateson was born in England in 1904 and died in
San Francisco in 1980. He owes his first name to
biologist Gregor Mendel, re-discovered by his father
William, a pioneer of modern genetics (Harries-Jones,
1995). Bateson’s youth was dominated by the death of his
two brothers, John, during World War I and Martin, who
committed suicide by shooting himself in Piccadilly
Circus, after a failed attempt at becoming an artist
(Harries-Jones, 1995). While being promised to a career
in zoology by his father and rebelling against the rigid
system of science, Martin Bateson left a deep concern in
the heart of his younger brother: how to reconcile
science with arts. How to ensure that one becomes as
sacred as the other. Gregory Bateson’s fascination for
the work of William Blake, centered on the sacred unity
of mind and spirit, contributed to this search
(Nachmanovitch, 1981). It is at the origins of his
transdisciplinary epistemology.
While modern society can only function ascribing as many
precise names as possible to people, Gregory Bateson
still confuses most academics. This is because he never
chose to pertain to one academic discipline per se, but
instead, to adopt a transdisciplinary approach to the
creation of knowledge and communication as early as
possible in his career. Bateson never focused on content,
but the relationships and patterns linking contents. To
some, he remains an intellectual scattered between
disciplines as varied as anthropology, oceanography,
psychiatry, communication and ecology. To many, he is one
of the fathers of cybernetics, through what he refers to
as the ecology of the mind.
Being destined to a career in zoology after the death of
his brother Martin, Bateson conducted a first field
research in the Galapagos Islands in the mid 1920s, where
he affirmed his desire to embark in a career of
anthropology (Lipset, 1982). His first field research was
conducted in Indonesia, followed by New Guinea and in the
early 1930s Bali, where he met his first wife, the famous
anthropologist Margaret Mead. He then embarked on a
career mostly in the US, where he remained until his
death in 1980 (Lipset, 1982). He first taught at Harvard
University as a visiting professor, before joining the
Veterans Administration Hospital of Palo Alto to head a
study of abstraction within communication. His most
famous finding from those years was to be the theory of
‘double bind’, or dilemma in communication. Later, he led
the Oceanographic Institute at the University of Hawaii,
where he researched communication in porpoises. His last
professional years were spent as part-time Lecturer at
the University of California, Santa Cruz.
Bateson’s bibliography is as eclectic as his scholarship,
most of his thinking being expressed in the recursiveness
of his communication with his readers. Reading Bateson is
a complex undertaking, since he engages the reader to
mentally stretch in a feedback loop both during and in
between the discovery of his articles, speeches and
metalogues. Without active intellectual involvement,
Bateson’s words do not stick; his ideas fail to blossom.
Bateson does not deliver content; he plants seeds of
interconnectedness, he invites the reader to come back to
his works over and over, to discover new ideas and more
importantly, make more connections between ideas, every
single time. Reading Gregory Bateson is like journeying
through the infinite complexity of a fractal.
Cybernetics of Self
There are many entry points into Bateson’s ecology of the
mind, the most relevant to peace studies being that of
cybernetics, where he proposes to rediscover the
territory hidden by the map so commonly discussed in
mainstream peace studies. The map, interventions for
peace, often hides the territory, the patterns of
communication that leads to conflict in the
fragmentations of peacekeeping, peacemaking and peace
building.
The essay he wrote on the cybernetics of the self, a
reflection on the symmetric aspects of alcoholism,
becomes resounding when one studies the many failures of
peace operations worldwide (Bateson, 1972b). In his
essay, Bateson explains how alcoholic pride, deriving
from a Cartesian symmetric epistemology, invariably
maintains the alcoholic in a state of addiction. This
pride alludes to the addict and the understanding of the
situation of his or her entourage as one to be conquered,
won over and dominated. According to this common
assumption, the addict must vanquish his or her desire to
drink. He or she is thought to be in total control of his
situation and locked onto a duel with the substance, a
duel that is inexorably to be won by the substance as
often as the situation repeats itself, with increasingly
damaging consequences for the vanquished.
At the root of this situation lies the epistemological
error of understanding the situation as one of symmetry
between the addict and the substance, as well as the
division between mind, matter and spirit. By believing
that one has complete power over the situation, one is
also left alone to confront it, hence unable to address
the complimentary-related roots of the addiction.
Conversely, the first of the famous ‘Twelve Steps’ of the
Alcoholics Anonymous ‘message to the alcoholic’ is to
make him or her ‘cut through all this mythology of
conflict’ in making them admit that they ‘are powerless
over alcohol – that [their] lives ha[ve] become
unmanageable’ (Bateson, 1972b, pp. 312-13).
The myth of ‘war over’ is therefore diffused towards a
reconnection between body and mind, mind and matter,
matter and society, society and spirit. Combined to this
is also the shock effect of having hit the bottom, which
can be the loss of a job, the failure of a marriage, a
black out of a few hours. The shock generated by this
awakening to one’s situation is understood as a key to
the recovery process. In sum: no hitting bottom = no
recovery.1 Yet, many actors in the life of the addict will
ensure, knowingly or not, that the bottom is never
reached. They can be understood as enablers. This can be
the addict him or herself, the entourage, in their plight
to hide the addiction to themselves, their families,
society. This prevention of hitting rock bottom is a form
of negative feedback. It regulates the addiction so that
the amplifying effect of the shock never materializes.
This is peace and conflict studies’ own entry point into 1 While psychiatric discourse has since disputed this
notion of ‘hitting bottom’, I remain attached to
Bateson’s desire to keep this as prominent as possible in
the understanding of addiction. My own understanding of
this stems from the fact that no one who does not want to
be helped (hence has reached a certain bottom – and it is
understood that bottom can be reached several times in a
lifetime) can initiate a cure without ever falling into
relapse at any given time.
the ecology of the mind: conflict is to addiction what
peace is to negative feedback. Both complement one
another in, among other disorders, leading our world to
its destruction.
From the point of view of a peace practitioner, this has
been a rather grim, sobering, realization. We, from the
vantage point of prescriptive peace as a discipline, can
be seen as enablers to the conflict meme that animates us
on a daily basis. How?
Conflict is to addiction what peace is to negative
feedback
‘War on Terror’, ‘War on Drugs’, even ‘War on Poverty’,
these are the daily aberrations presented to us by
political systems, relayed by the infotainment media
industry (Nacos, 2002). In our certainty over our power
to defeat terrorism, we have forgotten that not only we
are powerless over this symptom, but also that we are
addicted to the social, political and ideological
conflicts that drive us. Terrorism is symptomatic of a
greater conflict meme that animates our lives (Wilber,
2001). Our dualistic view of the world in ‘us’ and ‘them’
has made us unable to realize that we all have conflict
within us and that our illusion of power over the other,
terrorism, drugs, makes us part of the problem.
Bateson (1972b) asserts that we are the mirrors of our
own demons. For as long as we are to engage in a
symmetrical relationship with our addiction, we will be
unable to transform it. The decision by President Obama
to close Guantanamo Detention Centre was a message of
peace, yet his administration’s collateral killing of
civilians in Northern Pakistan renders his message void
in the eyes of the populations towards whom this message
was aimed in the first place (Almeida, 2010). Worse, this
message failing to materialize into concrete actions
deepens political polarization, rendering moderate
discourse obsolete.2
By declaring war on terrorism, or by attempting to hide
skeletons in our human rights violations closet, we 2 Author interviews with various Pakistani political and
intellectual leaders, Karachi, April 2010.
hereby declare war on ourselves, in the same way that the
addict declares war over himself when he or she confronts
the substance in a conflict that he or she is bound to
lose every time. We instead have to examine the patterns
of our involvement in conflict, in order to transform our
symmetrical dualistic relationship into a complementary
one. Bateson’s ecology of the mind asks: can we imagine
‘Twelve Steps’ to our addiction to conflict? Can the
sacred unity between mind, body and spirit help? Let us
examine first if we have hit bottom.
Double bind
Bateson once asserted that ‘language is a remarkable
servant and a lousy master’ (Bateson in Nachmanovitch,
1981, p.11). In his research on communication, he wrote
that digital, linear, communication was often symptomatic
of a double bind that could only be transcended through
an analogical approach to communication (Harries-Jones,
1995). Put simply, if digital communication can be the
expression of robots, analogical communication is
speaking with one’s heart, mind, body and soul.
Double bind is the effect of a contradictory message
given by someone to someone else, often within a power-
dynamic. It results in pathological relationships. An
illustration of double bind can be a parent telling a
child that he or she is loved, but never with the
gestures and actions that are the expressions of that
love (Harries-Jones, 1995). It can be a post-Bush
administration address to the Muslim world, alongside
daily killings of civilians. Words but no hugs, no
closeness, no connection: this contradiction creates
different reactions, one of which being schizophrenia.
Words but no human dignity or justice, this can result in
disillusionment, or acts of terrorism (Fontan, 2007). In
this, the digital communication of the parent or
authority figure creates a pathological reaction
(Bateson, 1972c). Under this light, language can
certainly become a lousy master.
A sacred unity
Can aesthetics save us from ourselves? Can it bring
meaning to our actions as peace practitioners? Bateson’s
deep connection to British painter and poet William Blake
seems to foster this realization. Aesthetics in both the
work of Blake and Bateson takes on the role of
reconnecting the spirit to the mind and body, as well as
nature, humans and the spiritual. It takes the
spirituality out of organized religion and back to the
cognitive domain of the individual and collective self.
Aesthetics brings the territory back to the map in the
same way that it connects both spheres of our brains. It
connects nature, humans and their spirituality through
the acknowledgement of what Bateson referred to as ECO,
or the ‘gods’ of ecosystem (Harries-Jones, 1995). It
redirects the message of peace into peace itself.
Aesthetics is the missing link between our wishful
thinking for the general good and our actions. It derives
in our emotions, our ethics, our values and principles.
It alludes to making peace with peace, to teaching peace
with peace. It tells us that a ‘Yes We Can’ attitude is
devoid of any connection to the reality of us creating
more of the same by seeking to negate the connection
patterns between our actions. Emotions, values and
principles become visible in our actions.
Changing the bias of the system
We want to know that we are hitting the bottom, yet we
refuse to acknowledge it in our belief that we can quit
conflict, pain, hunger and death whenever we want to. We
refuse to admit that we are addicted to conflict, yet it
permeates every aspect of our lives, as deep as our
entertainment patterns or our compartmentalization of
peace building. We say ‘never again’ each time we speak
of Auschwitz, yet refused to call events in Rwanda
genocide (Albright, 2006). We believe that we are better
than them, whoever they are, the Nazis, the Muslims, the
terrorists, the freedom haters: the Others. Yet how would
‘they’ have sprung to life if it were not for us?
Bateson’s essay on the Treaty of Versailles (Bateson,
1972a) is another revealing connection, another kick in
the stomach of the peace practitioner. Evelin Lindner
(2006) started her work on human dignity with an analysis
of the Treaty of Versailles, on the humiliation that
established the systemic bases for World War II to occur.
Bateson made the same proposition, naming our ‘peace’ as
a catalyst to the state of today’s world, via World War
II.
Bateson, in his essay ‘From Versailles to Cybernetics’
(1972a), contended that the treaty of Versailles changed
the bias of the international system, a bias that
inherently led to a century of international conflict.
Bateson explains this with the metaphor of a house
heating system’s thermostat. If the temperature outside a
house falls, the thermostat regulates the temperature in
the house, this according to the temperature range within
which the system operates, the bias. If the bias changes,
the parameters for the room temperature change also.
His argument is that the Treaty of Versailles, with its
short-term good intentions, for the general good, changed
the bias of the international system away from one of
justice for all, including ‘losers’, which in turn
increased the world’s propensity for conflict. Many
observers of the international politics have since also
made the connection (Fisk, 2005). For as long as the bias
of the system will be placed according to a dualistic
understanding of the world, into ‘us’ and ‘them’ and a
fragmented symptomatic solution to conflicts, peace
initiatives will contribute to the overall sustaining of
long-term conflicts (Anderson, 1999). It is the bias of
the system that needs to be changed into a holistic and
sacred one, not our response to its symptoms.
Peace and Negative Feedback
When I reflect on how Afghanistan has been mishandled
since 2001, this by all actors involved in its
reconstruction, I cannot help but wonder how the bias of
the system can be changed, since we were conditioned into
believing that this was a fight between good and evil,
that there was absolutely no way to negotiate with the
‘stone-age’ Taliban rulers. What was not my surprise,
when recently I spoke with the hakim, or ‘witch doctor’,
of Mollah Omar, the former Head of the Afghani Taliban,
in a meeting where he gave a contextualized account of
their rule? He mentioned the founding of a university for
women, something new to me, the reasons behind the
‘banning’ of electricity, which actually was not banned
but unavailable after thirty years of conflict and the
several logical reasons behind for instance the ‘banning’
of kite ‘flying’, which, more accurately called kite-
fighting, has also been banned in Pakistan since 2005.3 He
also mentioned how opposed the Afghani Taliban are to the
Pakistani Taliban, deemed too radical for them.4 I left
his house wondering if western politics in the area had
not created the ‘evil’ that it was denouncing while
justifying its ‘invasion’ of Afghanistan in 2001, albeit 3 For an account on the debate over kite flying, see The
News (2009).
4 Their opposition to the Pakistani Taliban stems from the
incident of the flogging of a girl that shocked the
Pakistani nation in 2009 (The Dawn Media Group, 2009).
in Northern Pakistan. To this day, I am wondering what
was our collective role in worsening the situation in
Afghanistan and now its neighboring Pakistan.
In his resigning letter to the Board of Regents of the
University of California, dated 1979, Bateson laments the
preoccupation of national egos with the possibility of
their own death, hence their need to develop nuclear
weaponry, the reason for his resignation from this
particular board (Harries-Jones, 1995). In his logic, the
impossibility to find a valuable interlocutor and
communicate with the ‘other’ is symptomatic of the
Cartesian bias of the system, hence contributing to the
negative loop of conflict.
We as peace practitioners are led to believe that we can
initiate ad hoc interventions to suppress symptoms of
conflict, to retrocede the collective its good
conscience, in the same way that environmental agencies
address degradation in a symptomatic manner (Bateson,
1972d). We linearly divide peace and conflict studies
into conflict management, resolution and transformation,
combining it with peacekeeping, peacemaking and peace
building and we address the world’s woes in as good a
manner as we can. We intervene, mostly reactively, as a
fire brigade, according to the decisions of an
organization created by and for states, not with
individuals in mind. We intervene within the conflict
bias, instead of holistically addressing the patterns of
interconnections that set the conflict bias. I have seen
the eviction of illegal settlers in Bosnia, but yet have
to see it occurring in Palestine. We say that we care,
that we work for human rights, justice, democracy, but we
only act politically, economically and selfishly
(Easterly, 2006). Sending in rogue peacekeepers that
abuse local populations, as occurred in many UN-sponsored
missions across the world in relation to sexual slavery,
only recently made it to the headlines in connection to
the UN mission in the Congo, this after years of
systematic malpractice on behalf of UN personnel (Firmo-
Fontan, 2003; Lynch, 2004).
We talk of bringing peace to Afghanistan, but through