Peter Emmerson

I have been passionate about football since I was a lad in the 1950s.  This engagement with football as both player and spectator has been a mostly disappointing experience: I never became the professional I dreamed of being; I am from County Durham and like so many of my ilk have a tribal allegiance to Sunderland football club.  When I was a boy Sunderland were the Bank of England club, bigger than anyone else.  The decline since then has been heart-breaking as a series of incompetent Chairmen have betrayed the loyalty of the enormous reservoir of people like myself.  As a result we have one moment of glory to energize our spirits, the defeat of Leeds in the 1973 Cup Final, courtesy of the greatest save ever made by the mangnificent Jim Montgomery!  Other than this one event the post-war history of Sunderland football club has been a littany of treachery and mediocrity: what halfwit turned out Clough? what idiot sold off the best players after the victory at Wembley? 

However, from the USA may have come a saviour who has the ambition, common sense and insight to respond at long last to the needs of the fans who are as usual complaining about spending their hard earned money to watch the turgid kick and rush served up by the all too brittle Steve Bruce and his regime.  Now we have a manager in Martin O’Neill who has the ability to produce a team that can play the sort of football which we long suffering fans deserve – thank you Martin for taking the risk – thank you Ellis for making it happen – you may both become human angels of the north!

 1.8 Darwin’s use of mutation as a piece of process technology and its implications for lowered ideals, more science and greater relative uncertainty.

Mathematics is the main defence against the insecurity of relative uncertainty when doing science. It is therefore not too surprising to find ‘me-oriented’ mathematicians idolized, worshipped, promoted and defended with a zeal that would do any religious fundamentalist credit: the status accorded Newton, Einstein, Heisenberg and Hawking is ample evidence. Where ‘me-oriented’ scientists are concerned, we see a similar process occurring – I am thinking of Smith, Marx and Freud. I was tempted to put the biologist Darwin in this last category because he was an early over-idealistic scientist and his ideas have been proselytized or attacked as passionately as any religious doctrine. However, his model of evolutionary development does contain a considerable amount of strategically significant process technology, which from my position, separates it out from the theories of the three social scientists mentioned above. For example, Darwin’s use of the concept of ‘mutation’ moves us away from ‘me-oriented’ perceptual models dominated by ideals that imply some sort of mega-human presence guiding the functioning of the universe, to a greater engagement with reality and ‘they-oriented’, process perceptions, that owe less to the truth techniques of theometaphysics, and more to the relative uncertainty of sense data.

The Darwinian model is less engaged with idealism in another sense being less systematized by mathematics. Darwin’s theory is a response to the unsatisfactory explanations provided by the prevailing models of his time such as creationism or the arguments of Lamarck, as regards the factual problem of “the distribution of the inhabitants of South America” (p, 5.). His attempt to persuade us of the value of natural selection contains comparatively little mathematical justification: he offers no algorithm (mathematical formula) at the basis of life. There is however, plenty of evidence of ‘me-orientation’ in the model in the form of philosophical (Cartesian) idealism, which produces such a considerable amount of systematic analysis that his ability to achieve the level of ‘they-orientation’ needed for a fuller investigation of processes, is curbed. An example, is Darwin’s unquestioned belief in the validity of rationality/logic, which makes him vulnerable to over-confidence as to the certainty of his judgement that heredity is of supreme importance in the process of mutation and the development life-forms: the dichotomy of nature-nurture, a piece of system technology, patterns Darwin’s network of analysis into which he inserts mutation. Consequently, he embarks on a causal, systematic style of analysis rather than one of interdependencies and process, even though he is aware of the need for process technology in the form of the concept mutation. In addition, his commitment to rationality as a truth technique justifies the adoption of a moral stance that qualifies him to make truth statements about the beneficence of natural selection at the expense of learning, certainly where ants are concerned (p, 180). Such certainty is typical of a ‘me-oriented’ approach that sanctions and privileges ideals, validating a perceptual habitus that understands the universe in terms such as ‘the laws of nature’, as well as licensing forms of analysis that emphasize the pre-eminence of the rational over experience and inheritance over learning/culture; a way of seeing that can be traced back, in modern terms, to Descartes.

However, On the Origin of Species does not privilege theology or mathematics, thereby diluting the level of ‘me-orientation’ to the extent that Darwin is able to work with more ‘they-oriented’ perceptions and engage more thoroughly with reality than his predecessors, producing a more scientific model. Because it addresses processes, albeit structured by a perceptual habitus that is patterned by a commitment to the ideals of philosophical logic and systematic analysis, the model of evolution as natural selection is lower in idealism than its competitors. Interdependently, the greater level of relative detachment (‘they-orientation’) achieved by Darwin correlates with a concomitant rise in the experience of relative uncertainty, both in the model itself and in the lives of those who find it useful. Darwin’s much closer proximity with reality, produces a less ideal set of perceptions that makes the idea of a divine presence comparatively incongruous as a method of explaining human development. Hence, he uses mutation rather than creation.

The latter point goes some way to explaining the fear and animosity that has accompanied the growth in popularity of the process concept of mutation and Darwin’s model of evolution. As a piece of process technology, mutation implies dynamism rather than stability, even though it is often spoken of in conjunction with the ideal notion of randomness with all its connotations of absolute freedom from being meddled with, other than by a divine being. Whilst the notion of mutation can never be free of idealism, any more than any other human conception, it does loosen our hold on the ‘me-oriented’ notion of cause and effect by opening further the possibility of considering the less certain analysis of interdependencies implied in a process model of the the way life-forms operate, albeit injected with a good dose of stability via system technology adapted from the philosophers: Darwin’s diagrams of inheritance are a good example, (p. 90).

 1.7 Process Technology: an answer to the problems of the new mathematical idealism – the study of interdependencies rather than cause and effect.

 I think it’s fair to say that you can never feel safe: the notion of safety is just another ideal. But as Maslow pointed out, we can achieve a level of security, what might be termed ‘relative safety’, that allows us the facility to get involved in less pressing activities such as socializing and contemplating the realisation of personal potential. Even though from my perspective his notion of ‘self actualisation’ is too heavily contaminated with idealism to be much use scientifically, it does offer an insight as to the conditions necessary for the growth in the numbers of scientists since the 17^th century. As far as I’m concerned, to do science people must not only have their immediate practical needs under control, but also must feel sufficiently secure to relinquish enough of a hold on their ideals to allow them to explore and conjecture about reality, without being traumatized by the experience: venturing into the unknown world outside, and trespassing on the territory of supernatural beings was dangerous. It is not therefore very surprising that early scientists carried with them a sturdy package of ideals on their uncomfortable, risky journey into greater relative detachment and, interdependently, greater relative uncertainty.

In this sense developments in new mathematical technology have been crucial to the expansion of science, not just because they offered greater technical expertise, but also because they provided a different type of truth tool kit, much more suited to the research of reality than religious or philosophical truth finding techniques. Thus, scientists were well fortified by a more mathematicized model of certainty on their voyage into the forbidden world outside. This is not to say that the truth technologies of religion and philosophy were abandoned, although religious truths clearly took a big hit with the demolition of its authority over the spirit world and its taboos. The growth of mathematics is more of an accommodation producing a new mix, still including plenty of the non-mathematical technology of truth such as philosophical systems technology and its dichotomies: positive-negative being a prominent example.

In the hostile territory of reality where scientists operate, sheer sensory information overwhelms human consciousness diluting the relevance of much in our ancient truth technology (especially theology), which was designed to cope with egocentric, ‘me-oriented’ insecurities about how I/we cope with the surrounding world outside. When you actually get out there (into the world outside the human mind and its ideals) and try to understand the very thing that our ancient truths protected us from, you are confronted with different and even greater problems of relative uncertainty in the form of ‘they-oriented’ insecurities, which are better suited to ‘they-oriented’ ideals such as mathematics to give them form. Not only did the new model of ideals (theometaphysics) dominated by mathematics provide a greater potential for engaging with reality, it also patterned our perceptions and understanding of that relatively uncertain ‘they oriented’ world outside, giving it the appearance of something predictable and much more stable than is in fact the case. Early physicists spoke of laws interdependent with the truths of the new, more mathematicized theometaphysics. This confirmed the findings of earlier truth-finders that certainty is everywhere, probably still governed by divine presences.

However, the new ‘they-oriented’ theometaphysics is much more vulnerable to questioning than was its ‘me-oriented’ predecessor. There are two issues that I want to consider: dynamism and diversity. The bonds formed between the new ideals and reality are much more tenuous because there is nothing stable to hold on to: this contrasts strongly with the ‘me-oriented’ problems of the mind where stability is possible. The forces in the universe are just too dynamic to be held in place indefinitely. It is rather like a chemistry experiment where two compounds are mixed in a test-tube to produce a measurable, controllable reaction. In the simple, highly regulated world of the test-tube the ideal of a cause and effect explanation between the two reactive materials works well. However, when analysing much more real, complex and dynamic containers such as the human body the ideal of cause and effect is much more difficult to apply, understand and justify. Whilst this analogy is not perfect because a test-tube is not the mind, it is a practical attempt to mimic an ideal environment and provides a nice example of the importance of ideal states for human experience; they offer control. In the ‘me-oriented’ world of the mind complete control is possible via its capacity to develop absolute truths as stable models which can be projected onto the world outside to provide security. In the less ‘me-oriented’ world of the test-tube a lesser degree of control is possible but still sufficient to explore ideals such as cause and effect successfully. However, as we move further away from the mind to the human body as a biological problem, the ‘me-oriented’ methods of interpreting reality have much less influence and much less control over the dynamics of the real world. When taking a scientific position the balance of influence between the mind and its ideals moves in favour of reality and with it the level of control declines. The dominant issue of the mind is dealing with problems of stability and absolute truth; the dominant issue of reality (science) is dealing with problems of dynamism and relative uncertainty.

The problem of the fragility of the bonds ‘me-oriented’ mathematicians can develop when they engage with ‘they-oriented’ reality is not just about their lack of fit for analysing dynamism, it is also related to reality’s diversity: for ideals to prevail, they have to explain an awful lot more than just the problems of the mind. The problems of the mind can produce ‘me-oriented’ truths in the form of transpositions of reality such as mathematical proofs, Pythagorus’ triangle being a famous example. These transpositions are then projected back onto reality, thereby removing much of the diversity that does not approximate the perfect form. However, for scientists empirical facts are the bread and butter of experience, promoting a picture of diversity that overwhelms the mathematical proofs for which they were never designed: there are no straight lines, there is no way of measuring distance exactly. Diversity and complexity is everywhere and cannot be controlled and ignored via the ‘me-oriented’ perceptual habitus that Elias termed Homo clausus. In order to engage with the vastness of reality, as opposed to the problems of the mind, ‘me-oriented’ perceptual habits are of little use. For the study of reality we need a different perceptual habitus that fits with a ‘they-oriented’ scientific approach, described by Elias as Homines aperti, open people. Such people are sensitive to the dynamism and diversity of reality because they are aware of the requirement to meet the demands of interrogation from facts that inevitably at some point may call their conclusions into question. Concomitantly, reality is experienced with relative uncertainty.

As models of certainty, ideals will therefore always be found lacking as templates for the analysis of reality. ‘Me-orientation’, which looks for patterns such as cause and effect, will offer only limited understanding in comparison to ‘they-orientation’ and the more difficult problem of analysing interdependencies. I think it is fair to say that the further from the mind (‘me-orientation’) and its idealistic patterns of analysis we travel, questions as to its usefulness arise; the level of sub-atomic particles being a prime example for which Heisenberg found it necessary to develop a whole new mathematics. Interrelatedly, we can observe his mathematics of ‘uncertainty’ as a contradiction in terms, for mathematics is all about certainty. The limits of mathematical usefulness may have been reached in the realm of particle physics where relative uncertainty bites hard on our consciousness. This level of relative detachment is difficult to live with, where ideals, rather like the oxygen at high altitude, are thinly spread around. To stretch the analogy slightly further, in such a rare place near to the boundary with space, a place of great ‘they-orientation’, we are likely to cling more obsessively to the security of mathematical ideals and even revert back to old and trusted methods of truth technology such as philosophy and theology, which unfortunately seems to be the case with modern theoretical physics. The question is how we can move further into science with less of the comfort provided by mathematical ideals. The answer may be process technology.

 1.6 The case against system technology and the positive-negative dichotomy: time for change!

 ‘Interdepend’ is a word but also a tool for analysis and is therefore a piece of ‘process technology’ used to stress the co-existence of variables without being guilty of over-extending by specifying what causes what. The idea is to ditch the misleading conventions associated with ‘systems analysis’ that rely heavily on ascertaining causal relationships, in favour of a model which uses the notion of process. One important feature of this programme should be the removal of an ancient and fundamental implement in the application of systems analysis – the dichotomy. A prime example of an extremely influential dichotomy features in this essay: ‘positive-negative’.

The deletion of positive-negative as a tool of analysis could have benefits beyond the boundaries of social science. Only the other day I heard one of the physicists using the Large Hadron Collider at Cern explaining that they could now keep ‘antimatter’ (anti-hydrogen) in existence for a quarter of an hour. I would respectfully suggest that whatever it is that they are developing it is not ‘antimatter’. Dichotomies are ancient linguistic tools of system technology that have been employed by theometaphysicians theologians, philosophers and mathematicians) to explore the possibilities of absolute certainty, in order, I would suggest, to find two things: personal comfort in an extremely threatening physical environment; a justification for action, especially the subjugation of others. On this level systems analysis is a technique put together by people to protect themselves from anxiety at a time when they were much more vulnerable to catastrophe than we in the West are today. The search for certainty through systems analysis was an element in the defence/attack strategy of ancient people in their battle to gain control over the turbulence and potential devastation of life’s experiences. From then on it serves to maintain that control, not only over what is idealistically called nature, but equally usefully, to justify the authority of those who have social influence. Systems analysis is a method of providing security through ideals!

Gradually, at first in Europe, as people have gained more control the level of threat in their lives (we can identify a significant increase in self-confidence of certain influential figurations during the Renaissance) we have seen the development and expansion of more realistic types of analysis such as science. I would like to argue that the emergence of science as an industry interdepends with an increase in the numbers of people who felt ‘safe enough’ to risk exploring the potentials of the real world. Such a move implies controlling and modifying the influence of ‘me-orientation’ (relative involvement), high in idealism, because such knowledge is designed to comfort the worried mind of habituses besieged by reality and fate, rather than engaged with it. Such a ‘me-oriented’ habitus has much less value for those committed to exploiting reality. Interdependently, we see an increase in ‘they-orientation’ (relative detachment), and the development of a new brand of mathematicized idealism better fitted for the purpose of exploiting the world outside the mind. From my position scientists can never break the tie with idealism, any more than they can divorce themselves from their emotions such as fear, i.e., be totally realistic or what we term objective. However, I want to argue that in order to do science, they must control their level of ‘me-orientation’ and the pattern of ideals that correlates with it sufficiently to allow the facility to achieve the greater levels of ‘they-orientation’ (relative detachment) necessary to engage profitably with reality. Concomitantly, the influence of the ‘me-oriented’ ideals of religion and philosophy has declined in favour of the more ‘they-oriented’ mathematics as the level of realism has risen. However, the overall authority of ideals has been lowered by the move to greater realism.

Such adjustments in perceptual habitus are likely to be accompanied by far greater psychosocial discomfort as threats emerge that had until then been managed by the old truths of religion and philosophy: the decline in ‘me-oriented’ idealism leaves people more vulnerable to fear of relative uncertainty and the finality of death. Relatedly, the attack on idealism, for that is how it will be interpreted, is very likely to attract violent attempts at suppression because it undermines wider psychosocial relative stability: the violence of some religious fundamentalists are examples, whether it be the Inquisition or the more recent Taliban. We can also see the traumatising effects of a challenge to ideals (certainty) in scientific figurations over the potential discovery of particles that contradict Einstein’s mathematical model by exceeding the speed of light. ‘They-orientation’ is a state of greater relative detachment, in which our ‘me-oriented’ ideals (religion and philosophy) have far less influence, making us much more vulnerable to fear in relation to the fragility of our existence. In moving from a ‘me-oriented’ perceptual habitus we abandon much of the ancient religious and philosophical truth technology that has provided security for so long, in favour of a more ‘they-oriented’ mathematicized idealism that is much more vulnerable to relative uncertainty, because our minds have far less control. Interdependently, a more ‘they-oriented’ habitus has a different fear structure with a heightened awareness of the sheer dynamic futility of existence, albeit buttressed by the stabilising certainties of mathematics, which offers the comforting means for safe sleeping. But only temporarily as we gradually discover the limits of mathematical certainties as explanations of reality: the uncertainty of the particle world being a case in point. Greater levels of ‘relative uncertainty’ await scientists, as they move further into ‘they-orientation’, where even the comfort of mathematics is threatened. System technology and its dichotomies has little use here other than as politics in the defence against process technology.

1.5 An Example of Process Technology to Analyse Interdependencies.

With our present level of theoretical development in social science we will have to make do with checking out interdependencies (non-causal relationships between variables). There are some important techniques already available that can be used to examine interdependency such as the statistical method of ‘correlation’ which analyses the way two linear variables associate with one another. If we can describe compliance (levels of ‘yes-statements’) and authority (levels of social influence) as axes on a graph, we can plot any trend that occurs. My hypothesis is that high compliance will be associated with high authority and that as the levels of authority diminish so do the levels of compliance. As a result we should be able to plot a line that rises from left to right, what is called a positive correlation. The data can then be calculated to ascertain whether such a trend is significant: in other words the likelihood that the association between authority and compliance has occurred by chance – it may be that we start to entertain the idea of a real association only if the probability that it could be explained by chance is less than 0.01% (1/100).

This example is of course merely conjecture to amplify my point. However, such techniques whilst being very useful (the official advice on the danger of smoking tobacco is based on this method) do not specify a cause, they merely allow us to argue that variables co-exist with some degree of regularity: they ‘interdepend’.

Whilst correlation is very useful, it will only analyse the relationship between two linear variables. Social processes usually comprise of interdependencies involving multiples of variables as in the case I am examining here: high authority interdepends with high compliance, high pseudo-positivity, high levels of psychosocial discomfort, organisational under-performance and more. The problem is that our language is dominated by ‘system-speak’ and thus littered with conventions that are specified in terms of ‘it-statements’, geared to cause and effect explanations. This style of analysis may be OK for everyday existence where errors of prejudice may have only personal consequences. In social science however, this is not good enough as we strive to attain the highest levels of relative detachment possible, in an effort to say something more valid about the interdependencies of human life.

1.4

Using the word ‘interdepend’.

As far as I’m aware using the verb ‘interdepend’ is new. It is difficult writing in terms of ‘processes’ because the conventions at your disposal are mostly geared to the analysis of ‘systems’ and therefore inappropriate for the examination of the dynamic patterns needed to describe and analyse social activities such as managing people. ‘System-speak’ presupposes a diagrammatic type of explanation, portraying people as inanimate points on a map, a classic example being the pyramidic model of responsibility and accountability synonymous with military organisation. Correspondingly, systems analysis is heavily reliant on the use of nouns such as Sergeant or Chief Executive, both expressive of function. The convention is to link these nouns with arrows or lines suggestive of cause and effect relationships (line management): the Sergeant gives orders to the Corporal; the Sales Manager sends information to the Sales Executive to account for the dip in orders. In this ‘top-down’ model, people are positioned by a series of ‘it-statements’ in relation to their job which defines their identity and purpose as if they were automata: they will have a job title and job description listing their duties. We also make more general ‘it-statements’ about things that are not objects when carrying out systemic analysis such as ‘the education system is dominated by a culture of compliance’ as if education and culture are things that can be weighed or measured. These ‘it-statements’ are noun-based descriptions that give a false impression of human relationships as lifeless and uniform, markedly unlike the reality I know, which is in fact vibrant and highly differentiated. In our attempt to use systemic concepts to find general or universal explanations we destroy that which we seek to understand.

The problem is that the complexities of most social variables do not allow simple cause and effect connections to be established beyond the banal experience of analysing an instruction: ‘Peter asked me to come here today’. Once we start to look at groups (figurations) of three or more people who make choices, such causal relationships may be impossible to stipulate. This is certainly the case when looking into the governing activities that are meant to educate people. The emphasis in this sentence stresses the verbs ‘governing’ and ‘educate’, suggestive of process, real people and complexity. Such ‘doing-statements’ contrast starkly with ‘it-statements’ by making it more difficult to idealize real human experiences with over-general summaries that promote a bland, simplistic set of perceptions that ignore fluidity and difference in favour of stability and commonality. We get a very different impression when using ‘doing-statements’ that warms and emotionalizes the whole analysis of government functioning, encouraging a focus on process, humanity and dynamics rather than systems, automata and statics. Such ‘process-language’ is geared to the figuration rather than the individual: no-one performs their activities in isolation, they operate interdependently with one another, their activities shaped by a network of variables such as geographical distance and social influence. Most of us start the day with our family and move to our work and then back again to our family. The bonds of interdependence that tie us together in these two figurations don’t perish as the space between us increases. If a family emergency occurs the level of familial social influence may be substantial enough to pull us away from working figurations. Our thinking and behaviour are structured in relation to others. Life is more about social processes rather than systems, and the language we use to describe and analyse it should ‘interdepend’ with the dynamics of those processes.

 1.3

Two well known examples of research into ‘yes-saying’ or what is often called compliance are the works of Milgram and Janis. However, their work tended to focus on formal situations where authority was clearly demarcated such as obeying instructions from more senior ranks or conformity to group pressure in the decision-making processes associated with governmental/company task groups. By looking at pseudo-positivity I want to examine a quieter, more informal and yet pervasive illustration of the authoritarian process, which prepares the ground for the giving of orders and the making of corporate decisions. An example concerns the use of pseudo-consultation as a tactic in the battle to obtain high levels of yes-saying and correspondingly, low levels of resistance. It relies on giving people the impression that they have been listened to. I have been witness to many of these exercises where managers give the impression that corporate objectives are being pursued in an open, reality-oriented (relatively detached) manner. At the time of writing those in the UK government trying to change the NHS may well be using this very tactic to deal with resistance to their plans. Practices of this sort con people into believing that their views are important and have been included in a decision-making process that has the appearance of subjecting managers’ proposals to critical appraisal. In fact such pseudo-consultations are merely exercises in compliance where any potential resistance is drained of its potency: opinions that differ from those of senior managers are comfortably ignored by being stigmatized as negative. Consequently, consultation is too often merely window dressing where the pseudo-positive prejudices of more senior managers are given formal approval by a process that just rubber stamps decisions already made.

Another indicator of pseudo-positivity, that often ‘interdepends’ with the activities of pseudo-positive, authoritarian managers is the use of clichéic language known as ‘management speak’. One contemporary illustration of this phenomenon that is exceptionally popular in these more authoritarian times is the word ‘challenging’. Only the other day Sir Michael Lyons, the out-going Chair of the BBC used ‘challenging’ liberally during an interview in a radio feedback programme. This morning, May 19^th, the word was used on the Today programme in connection with the problems facing the new incumbent, John Patten. From my experience, whenever people with authority (high social influence) use this word they are employing it to hide substantial levels of psychosocial discomfort at being confronted with demands from above that they feel are impossible to supply. Clichéic language seems particularly prevalent in public sector organisations such as the BBC which have, certainly since 1979, been under constant attack as over-comfortable parasites upon the tax-payer. When put under constant pressure to justify your existence, even when you excel, anyone will become defensive. The same can be said for process of educating people.

1.2

 Pseudo-positivity is just one of numerous variables that can co-exist in the perceptual habitus of educational managers at any level. For example, I have found it associated with significant levels of personal anxiety (psychosocial discomfort) about operational responsibilities: ‘yes-saying’ is a tactic for coping with fear. Managing people in order to supply the policy demands put together by authoritarian bosses can be eased by abnegating personal responsibility for dealing with the difficulties they confront you with. Straightforward compliance appeases and flatters those influential people who can do you most damage. It is also a good method of coping with people who are certain of themselves and have sufficient social influence to set rigid targets that are not up for negotiation. The authoritarian tactic is then passed on down the line by the managers themselves to fend-off attacks from below. Staff are informed of the challenges faced by the organisation in relation to objectives defined by those in government.

When confronting difficulties people will look for answers in the form of certainties to control their psychosocial distress: these certainties are the rules or laws developed by the three figurations we pay to supply the truth – the theologians and their acolytes the priests; the philosophers; the mathematicians and their acolytes the scientists. Such people come up with the conventional wisdoms that pattern our experience, whether it be policy makers or the managers and staff who put their policies into operation. Correspondingly, there is significant encouragement for managers to adopt the same habitus as their bosses which in turn produces plenty of the required ‘yes-saying’.

However, when certainty evaporates managers will search their habitus, and if necessary consult their friends, for tried and tested methods of dealing with the threat they face. In such conditions of high relative uncertainty, people select what they perceive to be the least risky, yet viable option – do as you’re told. This decision has another important virtue: if it all goes wrong you can pass the buck. The thought that there is a get out even if disaster occurs, relieves the psychosocial distress of decision making when confronting situations over which you have little control: Seligman showed quite convincingly, that those who blame others are less prone to depression.

The pseudo-positive habitus is a cover up born of the need to control psychosocial distress when managers confront rigid authoritarian demands from above. Pseudo-positivity supplies a veneer, that gives managers the appearance of being ‘business-like’, beneath which there lurks nothing but a highly paid ‘go-for’. Pseudo-positivity is also a technique used to quell any resistance from below by stigmatizing those who are not compliant as negative. In addition, managers often supplement their pseudo-positive habitus with an obsessional interest in defensive administration to cover their backs against any auditing of hard evidence: the job is seen to be done through sterile policy statements and paper trails.

1.1

I want to explore the hypothesis that large numbers of people whose job it is to manage the process of educating have a way of seeing and thinking (perceptual habitus) which is excessively, even obsessively, positive. Such a perceptual habitus is not an authentic positivity that is geared to an honest and motivated commitment to group (figurational) aims, it is a ‘pseudo-positivity’ that is more often than not just a ‘front’, as Goffman would say; merely a smokescreen of impression management, that is used as a tactic by many educational managers to guard against censure. The threat of censure is a constant problem: at the operational level subordinates find fault on a day to day basis. However, such pressure from below can easily be blunted by using the social influence that goes with authority. Censure from the side or above is a more difficult problem. Pseudo-positivity is a method of coping with these more serious dangers. On one level it bonds managers of roughly equivalent status together in highly cohesive ‘figurations of the positive’, where negativity is stigmatized and with it the potential for insider conflict is controlled. In addition, such collectivities protect managers from any attempt by those at more senior levels to exclude them from the policy making process (serious social influence). From my experience, this brand of compliance or ‘yes-saying’ is rife throughout the network of managers who run education, certainly in the UK. It is a significant element in their managerial strategy, a strategy which is defensive and is correspondingly counterproductive to any attempt at educational improvement.

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