1
Digging Up the World
Introduction
From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.
The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.
But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.
(Yehuda Amichai, âThe Place Where We Are Rightâ)
This is a book about both language and society. It examines a linguistic phenomenon, the transfer of business discourse to other domains, and it does so on the basis of a dialectic view of the relationship between discourse and its social environment. The market societyâin which market exchange is no longer simply a process, but an all-encompassing social principleâleaves its imprint in language. Conversely, language plays a central role in the continuous support of the market society. Business discourse can follow the spread of business practices, but it can also prepare the ground for them. Because discourse is implicated in creating marketisation, it is also a crucial lever for curbing it. Talking differently about the world invariably contributes to changing it.
Rooted in a critical tradition, the present treatise raises doubts about the assumption, now taken for granted so widely, that market forces should be allowed to determine social structures and relationships not only in the realm of commercial production and exchange, but in society generally. The book is thus concerned on the one hand with examining the social and discursive territory that has been taken over by market principles, and on the other with ways in which this territory may be reclaimed.
AIMS OF THE BOOK AND GENERAL ORIENTATION
Let me begin by explaining the unique selling proposition of the book, pointing out how the information in it is packaged, making a personal brand value statement and expressing the hope that customers will buy into its main arguments. Did any of these expressions jar and seem out of place? Hazarding a guess I would say that the âbrand value statementâ probably did, but what about the rest? The language of the market is now so fully integrated into everyday text and talk that it can easily go unnoticed, even by linguistically sensitive readers and listeners. In other words, to use the vocabulary of critical theory, this type of discourse has been ânaturalisedâ. In a wide variety of social domains, from politics to education, and from health care to religion, such language is simply what people expect and what they themselves often use. It has become natural in the sense that in very many cases it is no longer perceived as marked. Expressions imported from the domain of monetarised exchange now blend in easily almost everywhere, often without the slightest indication that their meanings might be contested, or their connotations misleading, or the implications of using them detrimental to cultural values that used to be constitutive of the domain adopting the imported expression. More importantly still, what naturalisation has done is to make alternative, non-marketised views almost unsayable and, crucially, unthinkable. âThatâs just the way it isâ, âyouâve got to move with the timesâ, or âwe call our students customers because thatâs what they areâ is the kind of stereotypical response that forestalls further debate. Such âdiscursive closureâ (Deetz 1992a, 186ff.) and the conceptual closure it sustains âquickly [lead] to overfamiliarity and then unquestioned certainty and finally to ideological dogmatismâ (Chia and Morgan 1996, 56). Closure is a perfect shield, and thus the enemy of social change.
The personalised metaphor of the enemy may be misleading. In fact, the book is an indictment without a scapegoat, a trial without a defendant. There isnât any one social actorâno single institution, let alone any individualâwho can be blamed for the âmanagerial assaultâ on the lifeworld (Hancock and Tyler 2008, 39). Instead, a post-modern view of what Hardy and Palmer (1999, 386) call âspiderless webs of power relationshipsâ seems more appropriate; these are webs, they explain, that âare not single-mindedly constructed to achieve control; rather, they are webs that grow out of a past, change in response to accidental events, and emerge to entrap the very people who are advantaged by themâ. Because there is no âspiderâ to be found, a critical analysis needs to tackle the much more difficult task of unravelling the webs of power which are both intricate and elusive.
Stated in very general terms, the bookâs analytical aim is to discover what impact the rise of the market society has had on language, and to relate the linguistic evidence to its socio-political background. The analysis is grounded in a critical and socially constructivist stance, underpinned by the idea that âlanguage is central to the process of constructing social realityâit is productive, formative and creativeâit makes things happenâ (Musson, Cohen, and Tietze 2007, 46). The normative aim of the book, on the other hand, is to promote resistance against both the unquestioned spill-over and pro-active adoption of marketised language in social domains other than business. This aim, too, is rooted broadly in the tradition of Critical Theory, and specifically, in the idea of praxis, which âimplies a combination of the awareness gained from ideological critique with reflective strategies for social change, thus transforming critical theory into an inspiring and constructive springboard for actionâ (Prasad and Caproni 1997, 288).
The critical and normative aims of the book are closely connected because critical awareness is a prerequisite for resistance: You need to see what is going on even to realise that you would want to do something about it. This is not to say, of course, that everyone who has become aware of marketised discourse will automatically be convinced that it is not a good thing. Some are quite keen to promote itâusually from positions of dominanceâprecisely because they are very conscious of the power of such language to transform social structures and relationships both inside institutions and in society at large. While I would not agree with such a viewpoint, I would certainly have to respect it; in this sense, too, I am prepared to be inspired by the poem quoted at the beginning of this chapter. The book is committed to its aims, but not zealously so. What strikes me as crucial, though, is to draw a distinction between, on the one hand, endorsing marketised discourse because one is aware of how it works and, on the other hand, simply being engulfed by it unknowingly, naively, and powerlessly. The book thus sees itself in the tradition of emancipatory research which does not aim at telling people what to think but does believe in uncovering a broader range of options so that people can make their own informed choices.
The overall position I am adopting is neatly captured by what Meyerson and Scully (1995) call âtempered radicalismâ. The tempered radical, they argue, is radical in that he or she challenges the status quo, and tempered in that he or she seeks moderation in doing so. Tempered radicals also have a temper, that is, âthey are angered by the incongruities between their own values and beliefs about social justice and the values and beliefs they see enacted in their organizationsâ (1995, 586). In their professional environments, tempered radicals engage in a balancing act between fitting in and playing the game while preserving personal identities for which sceptical distance and critique are crucial (1995, 587); they are used to enduring ambivalence (1995, 588) and being criticised by both conservatives and radicals (1995, 589). For the former they go too far, for the latter not far enough; both may accuse the tempered radical of being hypocritical (1995, 590). I myself am no stranger to such charges. I critique the market society from the comfortable position of a tenured professorship, and get paid by a âUniversity of Economics and Businessâ which is proud to see its graduates populate the boardrooms of both Austrian and international companies, and which explicitly brands itself as âentrepreneurialâ.1 Like many scholars in the critical tradition, I can afford to be both loyal to my institutional home and, at the same time, not have any qualms about occasionally biting the hand that feeds me. In truly post-modern fashion, the tempered radical juggles multiple identities.
Given the general thrust of the book, the bias I am most likely to be accused of is being hostile to business. However, such a charge would be missing the point. The case I will be making is not âanti-businessâ but âpro-boundariesâ, a plea, in other words, not to allow the conceptual structures, value systems and discourses of commercial domains to spill over into other lifeworlds and eventually re-create them in the image of business. Thus, and probably to the chagrin of many a left-wing colleague, I do not fundamentally challenge the social and discursive structures native to the capitalist economy. The point is, rather, that these structures can now be found on so many sites where, I would argue, they do not belong. Saying that something is not right in a particular place is quite different from saying it should not exist at all. Water flowing in a riverbed is useful, life-giving and relaxing to look at; the same water flooding the cellar of your house is unwanted and threatens to make its foundations crumble.
RATIONALE AND RELEVANCE
Marketisation has been identified and critiqued by scholars with various disciplinary orientations, most notably by sociologists and those working in a framework informed by Critical Management Studies (see Section 3.2). Alvesson and Willmott (1996, 21), for example, talk about âthe creeping commercialisation and commodification of everyday lifeâ. Similarly, Hancock and Tyler (2008, 39), noting âthe managerial assault on the symbolic and linguistic domain of the lifeworldâ, then go on to argue that
Hancock and Tylerâs specific focus on expert cultures will be picked up again in Chapter 7, but the general point they make, about the âmanagerial assault on the lifeworldâ is an ongoing theme throughout the present book.
The corresponding task of the linguist is to identify the traces that this âassaultâ is leaving in discourseâtraces which, in turn, make further assaults easier, less marked and more natural. Marketisation is a societal mega-trend showing in almost archetypical fashion how âat any particular point in time, certain patterns of meaning become more entrenched than others and take on the appearance of objective realityâ (Prasad and Caproni 1997, 286). Seminal work by Fairclough, from his 1991 and 1993 papers on, has laid the conceptual groundwork. But to date, no birdâs eye view of the phenomenon, combining a broad overview of several social domains with detailed textual analyses, has been attempted. This is the contribution this book wishes to make. While rooted in linguistics, it adopts a broader orientation, not only tapping into other disciplinesâ knowledges as and when appropriate but, it is hoped, also offering them insights that they can fruitfully re-integrate into their own scholarly endeavours.
Even at the outset it is worth noting that criticism against marketisation is not restricted to academic debate in learned journals and research monographs, but is clearly of considerable general interest: enough to add further relevance and urgency to research in this area, but not enough, it seems, to gain the kind of momentum that would be needed to generate sustained and widespread resistance. However, popular books such as Naomi Kleinâs book No Logo, with its plea for âunbranded spaceâ (2000, 105), obviously fell on enough fertile ground to become a bestseller. In the daily press, too, comments such as the following show how concerns about marketisation are also raised outside academia:
The zeitgeist this commentator picks up on is also amply borne out by anecdotal evidence from a variety of social domains. The gospel of the market is not short of disciples. A local parish newsletter was dropped through my door a few years ago which referred to the church as a âservice providerâ; the flyer announcing a conference organised by Compass, an âindependent democratic left pressure groupâ,2 adopted the language of neo-liberal âdeliverologyâ (see Chapter 4) when it asked, âHow do we deliver equality in the 21st century?â; an article archived online in the Times Educational Supplement said that âschools in Wales are still not producing pupils who are âjob readyââ;3 Austrian students protesting against new higher education legislation were recently reported to have carried placards that said âWir sind kein Humankapitalâ (We are not human capital) and âNein zur Ăkonomisierung der Bildungâ (Against the economisation of education) (MĂźller 2009, 4); an Austrian Olympic swimmer, Markus Rogan, appeared on the TV sports news4 with the logo of a sponsor attached to his bare chest, indicating that body advertising (see Section 7.1) has moved from the somewhat eccentric fringes to the mainstream. The image also signalled that the human body can be functionalised in an even more immediate and fundamental way than is already the case with the usual display of sponsorsâ logos on clothes and sports equipment (a common practice placing those athletes at a serious disadvantage who are involved in a sport that is normally practised half-naked). Examples could be multiplied, and many more are indeed included in the Data Panorama sections opening each empirical chapter in Part II.
Informal chats with friends, acquaintances and colleagues also confirm that marketisation is an issue that strikes a chord, even among people who, unlike academics, are not professional doubters in the business of perennial questioning, de-constructing and de-naturalising. It clearly does not take a grounding in critical theory to appreciate that something is happening to society, and that language is both a mirror and a driver of that change. Of course, such popular appeal is not the only justification for tackling a particular research question (although âcrittersâ of the more radical persuasion would probably say that it is). Motivation for and relevance of research usually derives from more than one source, and may be intra-disciplinary, theoretical and introspective as well as interdisciplinary, applied and driven by a spirit of outreach. However, it is entirely in keeping with the emancipatory intentions of both Critical Discourse Analysis (CDA) and Critical Management Studies (CMS) to accept that a general perception of relevance is, at the very least, an important added bonus. You know you are âon to somethingâ when people ask you, âand this book you are writing, what is it abo...