1
State of Mind
All human perception is selective. We all process information through pre-existing âknowledge structuresâ â systems of schematized and abstracted knowledge which scientists tend to label âbelief systemsâ or âschemataâ when referring to people they study, âtheoriesâ when referring to their own scientific activity and âprejudicesâ when referring to their rivals and enemies. Without these knowledge structures, âlife would be a buzzing confusionâ; at the same time, âa price is paid for this mental economyâ â knowledge structures âare not infallible guides to the nature of physical or social realityâ.1 Our preconceptions help us structure, but may also distort, what we see, understand and remember.
To a great extent, we are prisoners of our own preconceptions. Cognitive scientists have shown that knowledge structures are resistant to change. Rather than abandoning cherished theories, beliefs or prejudices, we tend to reinterpret contradictory information to fit pre-existing knowledge structures. This is no less true of social science theorists than of âthe man in the streetâ. The main difference between scientific and intuitive theories is that the former are formalized and available for public scrutiny, whereas the latter are implicit and lie below the level of awareness.
Human perception, in short, is theory-driven, whether or not the âtheoriesâ are conscious and formalized. âThere is nothing as practical as a good theoryâ is an often-used quote, attributed to the German psychologist Kurt Lewin. Theories represent good cognitive economy, insofar as they allow us to sort out what to pay attention to in the overwhelming flow of stimuli and data. Theories are like floodlights that illuminate one part of the stage but, by the same token, leave other parts in the shade or in the dark. They sensitize us to certain aspects of a phenomenon or problem while desensitizing us to others. To use another metaphor, âconceptual models not only fix the mesh of the nets that the analyst drags through the material in order to explain a particular action, they also direct him to cast his nets in selected ponds, at certain depths, in order to catch the fish he is afterâ.2
The state in focus
It is this dark side of theories that is our principal concern. Have our floodlights illuminated the wrong part of the stage, and/or have we cast our nets in the wrong ponds? The state has long had a privileged position in historical research and social science theories. The division of the world into sovereign states with mutually exclusive territories is a fundamental premise of social, economic and political life. In our understanding of the current world, âstates have become (second) nature, and come to seem inevitableâ.3 Most disciplines have upheld a clear distinction between what goes on inside the state, on the one hand, and activities that cross state boundaries and are referred to as international relations, on the other.
The predominance of the state in social science thinking is, for example, reflected in the German (and Scandinavian) labels for political science (Staatswissenschaft) and economics (Nationalökonomie). Similarly, state boundaries are prevalent in the maps of geographers, and a majority of historians write national histories. Moreover, the statistics that social scientists use are normally collected on a national basis. In fact, the etymology of the word âstatisticsâ reveals its close relation to âstateâ. The state, in short, has become the ordering principle of several disciplines, all of which take the state for granted. State boundaries have come to represent intellectual boundaries as well.
It should be noted that the words âstateâ and ânationâ are often used interchangeably in contemporary political and analytical language â in fact, you need go no further than to the previous paragraph to find an example. For instance, we speak of international relations when referring to interstate phenomena; the United Nations is a misnomer for an association of states; and we often allude to states acting âin the national interestâ. We shall return to the subject of nationalism and nation-states in Chapter 5. At this point, suffice it to say that the tendency to confound state and nation is another sign of the expansive nature of the state concept.
The prominence of the state constitutes the obvious common denominator of the disciplinary knowledge structures of the three co-authors, and the idea of this book has grown out of a shared conviction that this theoretical foundation needs to be reconsidered and that past, present and future efforts at organizing European space provide a fertile ground for such reconceptualizations. We are drawing on the growing realization within our respective disciplines that the structural basis of territorial states is, if not disappearing, then at least changing in character. In this sense, present-day scholars may find themselves in a situation similar to that of
the late medieval political theorists who thought the choice was between the papacy and the empire as the primary unit of political organization. The best of these theorists realized that something new was emerging â the modern state; but they lacked the categories for understanding the new reality. We now are in a similar position.4
At the same time, we are sceptical of the tendency to overemphasize the newness of recent developments in Europe. We donât subscribe to proclamations of âthe end of historyâ5 and âthe end of geographyâ6 â or, for that matter, âthe end of the nation-stateâ7 and âthe end of sovereigntyâ.8 If anything, the end of the Cold War (here it is more legitimate to speak of an âendâ, although there are sceptics on that score as well) taught us the dangers of theorizing on the basis of a narrow time frame. Theorists of international relations who used the Cold War as a yardstick of normality now face what Susan Strange has labelled âPinocchioâs problemâ. The strings that were attached to Pinocchio made him a puppet of forces he could neither control nor influence. His problem at the end of the story, when he was magically transformed into a real boy, was that he had no strings to guide him. Similarly, students of international relations in the post-Cold War era have been shorn of the intellectual strings that tied them to existing power structures, and are groping for orientation in the new world.9
The obvious lesson is that a longer historical perspective is warranted, if we want to avoid that our knowledge structures make us prisoners of the unique features of present realities. Thus, when we explore alternative ways of organizing European space, we rely to a great extent on historical experiences and structures. To be sure, history does not repeat itself, but we pay a heavy price if we ignore its lessons. And recent developments in Europe have involved the return, not the end, of history.10
More than half a century ago, E.H. Carr concluded: âFew things are permanent in history; and it would be rash to assume that the territorial unit of power is one of themâ.11 Similarly, our enquiry proceeds from the assumption that the system of territorial states, which was formed in Europe with the Peace of Westphalia of 1648 and which eventually spread to cover the entire globe, is contingent. The state does not represent the only way of organizing European space, nor is it the inevitable conclusion of an evolutionary process. By problematizing the state and putting it into historical context rather than taking it for granted, we aim to remove the blindfolds that state-centric theories have furnished to our respective disciplines.
A constructivist approach
Our focus on perceptions and theories puts us in the âconstructivistâ camp. We adhere to the view that what we refer to as political, social, economic and historical ârealitiesâ are to a significant extent socially constructed by cognitive structures that give meaning to the material world. However, we do not subscribe to the extreme relativism of âpostmodernismâ which holds that material reality cannot be known outside human language; thus, everything is reduced to âdiscoursesâ or âtextsâ, and science is but one among these discourses with no privileged position. Rather, we agree with the emerging view of constructivism as occupying the âmiddle groundâ between rationalist, positivist approaches and interpretive, postmodern approaches.12 On the one hand, constructivists, like positivists, believe in the existence of a material world which is independent of our accounts and which provides opportunities for, and puts restraints on, human action. On the other hand, constructivists, like postmodernists, hold that the material reality does not fully determine human action and thought and that social reality emerges from the attachment of meaning to physical objects. International relations, to constructivists, are based primarily on social facts, which are facts only by agreement. A metaphor may help to illustrate the constructivist position:
Suppose you toss a rock into the air. It can make only a simple response to the external physical forces that act on it. But if you throw a bird into the air, it may fly off into a tree. Even though the same physical forces act on the bird as on the rock, a massive amount of internal information processing takes place inside the bird and affects its behavior. Finally, take a group of people, a nation or various nations and metaphorically toss them in the air. Where they go, how, when and why, is not entirely determined by physical forces and constraints; but neither does it depend solely on individual preferences and rational choices. It is also a matter of their shared knowledge, the collective meaning they attach to their situation, their authority and legitimacy, the rules, institutions and material resources they use to find their way, and their practices, or even, sometimes their joint creativity.13
Our enquiry into the organization of European space will focus on what Emanuel Adler calls âcognitive evolutionâ, the adoption by policy-makers â and scholars â of new interpretations of reality. This means trying to understand âhow institutional facts become taken for grantedâ, how âas certain ideas or practices become reified, competing ideas and practices are delegitimizedâ.14
Symbols and metaphors of statehood
The use of symbols and metaphors is central to processes of cognitive evolution in international relations. The term âmetaphorâ comes from the Greek verb metapherein, âto carry from one place to anotherâ, to transfer. âThe essence of metaphor is understanding and experiencing one kind of thing in terms of anotherâ.15 Metaphors are not merely figures of speech or ornaments; they are âpervasive in everyday life, not just in language but in thought and actionâ.16 We typically conceptualize the unfamiliar in terms of the familiar, the non-physical in terms of the physical, the less clearly delineated in terms of the more clearly delineated. We tend to structure the less concrete and inherently vaguer concepts (like those for mental processes) in terms of more concrete concepts (like those for physical processes) with a clearer experiential basis. For instance, many of the terms used to characterize intellectual activity are based on the metaphor of seeing with the eye â âobserveâ, âseeâ, âviewâ, âpoint of viewâ, âoutlookâ, âfocusâ, âperspectiveâ, etc.17
By the same token, abstract political phenomena are strikingly often treated in metaphorical terms by practitioners and theoreticians alike. âSince metaphor is transference of meaning from the familiar to the unfamiliar, the pervasiveness of metaphor in political speech is a sign that political things are somehow less familiar or accessible than the things from which political metaphors are takenâ.18 We have already pointed to the prevalence of mechanical and organic metaphors in descriptions of organizations. Other examples include the frequent use of spatial metaphors in political language. Ordering political parties and groupings along a left-right axis is a metaphor that dates back to the seating of the various fractions in the French National Assembly at the time of the French Revolution. Another equally common â but less conscious â spatial metaphor concerns our use of âupâ to denote power and high status and âdownâ to denote powerlessness and low status (we speak of leaders being at the height of their power, of high command and of climbing the social ladder; conversely, you fall from power, and are at the bottom of ...