[Y]

18.

fail or else prove unacceptable.

This is not to say that the motivation of the administrator
towards the intellectual is cynical. He wants help sincerely. His
problem is that he does not know the nature of the help he requires.
And he generally does not become aware of a need until the problem is
already critical. What is considered "policy planning" too often in-
volves simply the projection of existing problems into the future. In
short, the bureaucracy is more concerned with symptoms than with causes;
it wants "solutions" to specific problems, not a definition of purposes.
Of necessity it gears intellectual effort to its own requirements and its
own pace: The deadlines are inevitably those of the policy maker and not
of the intellectual. The administrative approach to intellectual effort
therefore unwittingly tends to destroy the environment from which great
thought could flow. Its insistence on "results" discourages the intel-
lectual climate which might produce profound ideas whether or not the
bureaucracy feels in need of them. Instead of leavening the inflexibility
of administration, the intellectual too often becomes a prisoner of it.

This is strikingly illustrated by the extent to which many re-
search organizations even when they have financial independence reflect
the views of their sponsoring agency. This is because financial control
is the least effective means of achieving intellectual conformity and in
many respects the least insidious. No self-respecting person will alter
his views for monetary gain. His effort will be affected by the problems
with which he is dealing. His thinking will be influenced by all the in-
tangibles of fellowship produced by constant association with a particular
group. As long as the sponsoring agency retains the right to define the

19.

tasks of its research agency - or even the majority of them - it will
also determine the point of view of the product. There is no reason
why an "outside" group should react very differently to a particular
set of problems than the bureaucracy, if its activites are concentrat-
ed on the same range of issues. After all, the onesidedness which the
"independent" research group is designed to overcome is itself the re-
sult of an excessive and very sincere concentration on a very narrow
range of problems. It is not removed if the research agency has no great-
er possibility for applying a wider perspective than its sponsoring organ.

In part, one of the greatest uses of sponsored research groups may be less the originality of their work but the opportunity they provide to present ideas outside of organizational channels. One of the problems of a bureaucracy is to filter ideas to the top. It is often difficult to obtain a hearing for proposals which run counter to the well-intrenched views of the higher echelons. "Outside" research organizations, since they are not limited to bureaucratic demands, can overcome this hurdle to some extent and are occasionally deliberately used by the bureaucracy for this purpose. Their function in this respect is less to conceive than to galvanize.

Thus though the intellectual participates in "policy-making" as
rarely before, the result has not necessarily been salutary for him or for
the government. Nor has the present manner of employing outside experts
or the typical work of research groups done more than reduce somewhat the
dilemmas of the policy planners. The production of so much research of-
ten simply adds another burden to already overworked officials. It tends

[Y]

20.

to divert attention from the act of judgment on which policy ultimately depends to the assembly of facts - which is relatively speaking the easiest step in policy formation. Few if any of the recent crises of US policy have been caused by the unavailability of data. Our policy makers do not lack advice; they are in many respects overwhelmed by it. They do lack criteria on which to base judgments. In the absence of commonly understood and meaningful standards, all advice tends to become equivalent and every problem turns into a special case. In helping the bureaucracy to find its way out of this maze, the intellectual too frequently becomes an extension of the administrative machine, accepting its criteria and elaborating its problems. While this too is a necessary task and sometimes even an important one, it does not touch the heart of the problem, which is that purpose must dominate the mechanism if we are to avoid stagnation. The dilemma of our policy is not that it cannot act on what it has defined as useful - though this too happens occasionally - but that the standards of utility are in need of redefinition. The intellectual does not perform his full responsibility if he shies away from this essential task.

Excellent!! 9

[4]

IV

The entire responsibility for the current state of affairs
should not be placed upon the policy maker, however. The stagnation
of our policy is produced not by the limitations of his perspective
alone nor solely by his tendency to turn the intellectual into an extension
of the bureaucracy. There are intellectuals within the bureaucracy who
have avoided the administrative approach but who have nevertheless contri-
buted to the existing stagnation through a perfectionism which paralyzes
action by posing impossible alternatives. There are intellectuals outside
the bureaucracy who are not part of the maelstrom of committees and study
groups who must share the responsibility for the prevailing confusion
because they refuse to recognize the inevitable element of conjecture in
policy making. The "men of affairs" have tended to predominate not only
because of the practical bend of our society but also because an insufficient
range of options has been offered by the intellectuals.

The difficulty is that intellectuals even when they have not
been turned into appendages of the bureaucracy have too often confused
the mode of analysis with the mode of action. One of the most crucial
components of policy is the factor of time; policy making is in a sense
the art of timing. But analysis is essentially timeless; it seeks to
derive principles or insights of general validity. Profound policy fits
its measures to circumstances. Analysis strives to eliminate the accidental;
its thrust is in the direction of universality. The policy maker must
often act on insufficient knowledge; his measures are based on an assessment
which cannot escape including an element of conjecture. Analysis on the
other hand, seeks to encompass the greatest range of factors; it is not

22.

completed until all avenues of research have been explored. The policy maker is faced with situations where at some point discussion will be overtaken by events; to delay for the sake of refinement of thought may invite disaster. Analysis can and must always sacrifice time to clarity. The difference between the mode of action and the mode of analysis is therefore one of perspective: policy looks towards the future; its pace is dictated by the need for decision in a finite time. Analysis assumes an accomplished act or a given set of factors; its pace is the pace of reflection.

This difference colors much of the relationship between the policy maker and the "academic" intellectual in or out of government. It is unavoidable that "academic" intellectuals in and out of government should have recourse to a method which has shaped their whole experience. The difficulty arises not from the method but from the refusal to recognize its limitations. The quest for certainty which is essential for analysis, may produce paralysis when applied to policy. The search for universality which is one of the noblest aspects of intellectual effort, may lead to something close to dogmatism in national affairs. The attempt to eliminate conjecture which is inherent in first-rate scholarship may result in a tendency to avoid dilemmas by denying their reality often on grounds of pure methodology. ("How can you be *sure* what the Russians intend?') Because of these biases analyses of past action by "academic" intellectuals are frequently far superior to the precepts formulated to guide future policy. Although this is to some extent unavoidable there is nevertheless in many "academic" intellectuals a tendency to recoil

23.

before the act of choosing among alternatives which is inseparable from
policy making; and to ignore the tragic aspect of policy making which lies
precisely in its inherent uncertainty. There is a temptation to attempt to
combine the advantage of every course of action; to delay commitment
until "all facts are in," until, that is, the future has been reduced to
an aspect of the past.

As a result, on almost every issue, the perhaps excessively
short-run and manipulative approach of the bureaucracy and its adjuncts
is opposed, if at all, by an abstract, rigid formalism which all too often
cannot be related to the problem at hand. The technicians who act as if
the Cold War were its own purpose are confronted by others who sometimes
talk as if the Cold War could be ended by redefining the term.² The
Machiavellianism of short-term expedients much too frequently has as its
sole antagonist a Utopianism which seems more concerned with registering
a dissent than with contributing a sense of direction. The self-righteousness
which sees in conscientious coordinating procedures a sufficient gauge of
valid policy is little affected by a perfectionism which segments policy
into cycles of self-improvement and self-projection (do we have the moral
right to act abroad as long as there is a Little Rock?); or by a fastidious-
ness which spends more energy on establishing a moral equivalence between
our short-comings and those of Communism than on defining the moral content
of what we stand for. (Are our security measures different in kind from
those of the Soviet Union? Or: Since we both distrust each other we
should prove our good faith first if we expect them to prove theirs.)

2. See for example Eric Goldman in Millis, Walter, Fund for the Republic p.

24.

The intellectual if he is to deepen national policy therefore faces a delicate task. He must steer between the Scylla of letting the bureaucracy prescribe what is relevant or useful and the Charybdis of defining these criteria too abstractly. If he inclines too much towards the former he will become a technician; if he chooses the latter, he will run the risk of confusing dogmatism with morality and of becoming as wrapped up in a cult of rejection as his opposite number is in a cult of success. The intellectual should not refuse cooperation with the large organization, governmental or private, for then they will become even more fixed in their administrative rut. He _must_ avoid permitting the organization to define all standards of relevance or utility. He should not be concerned that he has "customers" and that they will judge him by his utility in the attainment of short-term goals -- great ideas are rarely accepted for the right reasons. He fails only when he makes their criteria his own or when his ego becomes involved either in the act of participation or in that of rejection. If he turns himself into a barterer of technical remedies, either in the realm of expedients or in that of morality he must not be surprised at the increasing bureaucratization of our society.

Indeed it may well be that one of the deepest contributions the intellectual can make at this moment lies in an attitude. Where so much is done by routine and creativity is so often conceived as an extension of the familiar, the intellectual by his bearing and his concerns must demonstrate the overriding importance of purpose over technique. Where the deepest challenge is to find concepts and goals for a world that has outstripped our presuppositions, intellectuals should know better

25.

than almost any other group the fragility of the process of creation and
the dedication required to conquer new ideas. They must not contribute
to the administrative myopia which is always obsessed with the symptoms of
problems at the expense of a sense of direction. At the same time those
intellectuals who do not participate in the administrative process or who
reject its criteria must take care that protest does not become an end in
itself. They must realize that there is a form of perfectionism which is
an evasion of responsibility, an intellectual fastidiousness which paralyzes
action and a humility which comes close to spiritual pride.

To be sure, the task is not the intellectual's alone. The
executive, in and out of government, must come to a new valuation of the
nature of reflection and a new reverence for intangibles. If we are to
retain any dynamism, our executives must set themselves more modest goals
with respect to the intellectual. They must realize that in their insistence
on "results" they often destroy the climate for creativity and put a
premium on qualities which they could most easily duplicate within their
own organizations. The attempt to judge creativity in terms of adminis-
trative criteria is the most certain prescription for stagnation for it
makes it impossible ever to transcend the standards of the moment.

The stakes could hardly be higher: the deepest cause of the
inhumanity of our time is probably its "objectivity," the pedantic appli-
cation of administrative norms. Its symbol may well be the "commissar,"
the ideal-type of a bureaucrat, who condemns thousands without love and
without hatred simply in pursuance of an abstract duty. But we would do

26.

ourselves an injustice if we ignored that the commissar is not a Soviet
but a universal phenomenon - the Soviet system has simply encouraged it
in its most extreme form. He is the administrator whose world is defined
by regulations in the making of which he had no part, to whom reality is
exhausted by the organization in which he finds himself. Our challenge
is to rescue the individual from this process; to escape from the proten-
tiousness and stultifying quality of an atmosphere in which all sense of
reverence for the unique is lost in the quest for reducing everything to
manipulable quantities. Not only the spontaneity of American policy will
depend on how well we solve this problem but also the fate of human dignity.

IV-17

Great achievement requires a measure of naivete. A society, if it
is to remain vital, must constantly be alert that its critical
faculty does not turn into a cult of the blase or that it confuses
creativity with projecting forward the familiar.

But how can the sense of the challenge of creativity be
brought to another society? If knowledge were adequate it could
establish its own balance of innovation. In the absence of a common
framework exhortation may prove merely irritating. The problem
may be, however, more intractable in theory than in practice. Certain
dilemmas can only be dealt with not resolved in the abstract.
It may well be that the problem of communication is insoluble., if
conceived entirely as an intellectual assignment. The persuasive-
ness open to an advanced democratic society is more likely to be by
example than by word. It can convey its values by bearing witness
to its beliefs. The act of dedication may be more impressive to the
observer--particularly one in an early stage of development-than the
phrases which express it. For the difficulty with words is that they
are an abstraction from reality and the new societies face the problems
that what seems most real to us has no concreteness as yet for them.

IV-18

A few hundred devoted Americans in Africa over the next few years will be more important than manifestos and perhaps more effective even than mere economic assistance. It is know that we are rich. It is less clear that we are pruposeful or that the purposes we have are relevant to the problems of the new societies.

To be sure, we may not succeed. But the inquiry into the possi-
bility of success is basically irrelevant to the task set here.
As a society our only choice is to revitalize our values or to
stagnate. We are an established society. We have a tradition and
a structure which determines the direction we must take. Within that
framework many choices are possible. But we cannot invent values to
fit our guesses about the requirements of survival. On the contrary
what makes life worthwhile are the values which we hold. Unlike
the new societies, we cannot opt for any set of institutions. Our
choice is circumscribed to making the concepts of freedom and human

will
dignity relevant for our times. If we fail in this we/have no reason
for existence. To revitalize these beliefs is by the same token an
assignment to give meaning to the life of any generation. We are at
the point in our development which where we have mastered much of our

[Y]

II-16

the general disillusionment if no answers are forthcoming to the concrete issues that face the peoples of the new nations every day. Popularity will be fleeting unless we can make our contribution to the tasks of construction that will become more intractable the longer they are delayed.

In this respect, Premier Khrushchev's problem xxxii on his Asian visits is much simpler. His basic interest is to prevent stability. He can appeal to all the resentments of the anti-colonial revolutions; to all the grustrations of new-found independence. It is enough for him to harvest public acclaim, for to the degree that he creates an illusion that progress is simple he will make the painful coming to grips with reality that much more difficult. When Mr. Khrushchev strikes a pose he is appealing to the wishful thinking that he knows will radicalize politics. When President Eisenhower pursues a similar course striking short-term successes only obscure the fact that

II-18

Whatever our contribution to economic development --
and even here a much more massive effort is required -- we have
neglected almost completely the political frame-work. Instead
we have applied to the new nations the same theory of evolution
which also characterized our interpretation of Soviet developments.
Our major problem was thought to be to help their economies reach
the "take-off point" of self-sustaining growth. As capital
accumulated and a consumer economy developed a democratic or at
least an enlightened society, sharing many of the values familiar
to us in the West, was believed certain to emerge. Removing the
grievance of low living standards would undermine the chief
source of Communist recruitments. The requirements of industriali-
zation would bring about more or less automatically a modernization
of other aspects of life. These views could only be strengthened
by the insistence with which economic progress was demanded by the
newly independent states, so much so that at times it seemed to
exhaust the range of their aspirations.

-35-

purpose cannot come from a bureaucracy, and it will not
come from our present leadership groups if they continue to
see the challenge primarily as a succession of technical prob-
lems.

It is true that many of the difficulties described here
are due to qualities which also account for the strength and
vitality of our society. Against the background of our sudden
projection into world affairs we have undoubtedly performed
creditably. Unfortunately, our period offers no prizes for
having done reasonably well; it does not permit us to rest
on historical comparison. Our solve measure is our ability
to contribute a sense of direction in a world of turmoil.

The stakes could hardly be higher. The deepest cause
of the inhumanity of our time is probably the pedantic appli-
cation of administrative norms. Its symbol may well be the
"commissar," the ideal type of bureaucrat, who condemns thou-
sands without love and without hatred simply in pursuance of
abstract duty. But we would do ourselves an injustice if

-36-

we ignored that the commissar is not just a Soviet but
a universal phenomenon--the Soviet system has simply en-
couraged it in its most extreme form. He is the administra-
tor whose world is defined by regulations in whose making
he had no part, and whose substance does not concern him, to
whom reality is exhausted by the organization in which he
finds himself. Our challenge is to rescue the individual
from this process; to escape from the pretentiousness and
stultifying quality of an atmosphere in which all sense of
reverence for the unique is lost in the quest for reducing
everything to manipulable quantities. The way we face this
challenge will be the ultimate test of our long-proclaimed
belief in the dignity of the individual.