ABSTRACT
The time-honoured tradition of critical theory has been and continues to be one of the most powerful and potent influences in sociological theory throughout the latter part of the 20th and here at the threshold of the 21st century. Through by now three to four generations of so-called ‘critical theorists’ – philosophers, sociologists, cultural analysts, political theorists and other social scientists – we have come to learn the importance of continuously keeping a critical and watchful eye on a variety of social developments and pathological tendencies so characteristic of modern as well as late modern, postmodern or liquid-modern society. Therefore, critical theory has spawned some of the most incisive and acclaimed theories aimed not only at critiquing society but also at criticising other (so-called ‘traditional’) theories for neglecting or misunderstanding what is in fact at stake (Horkheimer 1937/1975). Although it is impossible specifically to date the rise of such a critical-investigative mentality in intellectual history, within the discipline of sociology – besides the obvious path-clearing work of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels – the ideas of the so-called first generation ‘Frankfurt School’ social thinkers in the 1930s and onwards were instrumental in establishing a tradition dedicated to developing and advancing critical theory (for a history of the ‘school’, see Wiggerhaus 1986/1994). Theodor Wiesengrund Adorno was one of the main founders of and contributors to this early kind of critical theory. Today, critical theory still thrives and besides those who still locate themselves and their work in the direct lineage of the specific Frankfurt-style critical theory, there is also a vast group of scholars doing critical theory without adhering to this particular Frankfurt-based branch. One of the most prominent of contemporary critical theorists is undoubtedly Zygmunt Bauman, whose work for the last few decades has attracted international recognition for its profoundly critical dissection of many of the malaises and problems confronting contemporary society. There are many similarities – in fact surprisingly many – between the
bodies of work of Adorno and Bauman. Some of these similarities are unquestionably biographically determined, whereas others relate to shared academic perspectives and possibly quite a few have crystallised as the direct
consequence of the combination between specific life circumstances and developing academic perspectives. Both Adorno and Bauman come from Jewish backgrounds, both lived through dark and totalitarian times on the central European continent, both had to escape – at different times as well as from and to different destinations (see Smith 1999: 172) – anti-Semitic purges and both experienced extended periods of living, thinking and writing in exile. However, it seems as if every cloud – even exile – has a silver lining. As Adorno once stated, based on his own experiences as an emigrant to the United States, ‘inviolable isolation is now the only way of showing some measure of solidarity’ (Adorno 1951/1974: 25), and as Bauman has testified, ‘eviction means group loyalties need not constrain vision anymore … Exile is a blessing’ (Bauman 1988-9: 25). So the blessing found in the exile’s inviolable isolation, in his ability to be unconstrained in vision, in the freedom to think out of the box, to criticise and to challenge that which currently is and to show a sense of solidarity borne out of solitariness, has been a trademark of Adorno’s and Bauman’s work alike. They also share what by many interpreters has been regarded as a rather deep-seated pessimistic and dismal view of the possibilities for mankind to create a better future. True, the optimistic tone in Adorno’s work is indeed difficult to detect, which is one of the main reasons why he has earned the epithet of the ‘German gloom-meister’. There is, however, a somewhat hidden utopian strand to be detected in his work which has come into focus in recent years through new interpretations of his work (see, for instance, Sherratt 2002). In Bauman’s case, things seem a little different. On the one hand, his analyses and diagnoses, as we shall see later, seldom open up to any concrete vision of a better world and provide only infinitesimal pieces of advice on how to improve society. On the other hand, however, he is unrelenting in insisting that the road ahead is still open for diverging paths and detours of our choice and this is noted in a more direct fashion than is often the case with Adorno. As once reported by Richard Sennett in a swift comparison respectively between the pessimism/optimism of Bauman and Adorno:
When you speak to Zygmunt, he’s very optimistic. It’s remarkable that at this stage of his life he is so engaged. He wants to know what is going to happen next year. He suggests that there is a real realm to navigate of personal responsibility, and that makes contact with young people. A lot of thinkers of his age think that the world has gone to hell in a basket – for example Adorno who, by the end of his life, didn’t seem to like anything. But Bauman’s work doesn’t read like that, it reads like – make it better!
