Then there are the violent ones. One widely respected US left-wing figure often beat his partner. But when she spoke out about it, no one seemed to want to know. Louis Althusser, a famous French left-wing intellectual, killed his wife.[2]
All this is nothing new. Many renowned intellectuals and activists have had feet of clay. Karl Marx, champion of the working class, tried to maintain a bourgeois lifestyle by borrowing from friends. He was notorious for his authoritarian behaviour in personal relations and socialist politics.[3]
Michael Bakunin, one of the greatest figures in anarchism, was vehemently opposed to all governments. At the same time, he plotted incessantly, created all sorts of secret cells and had grandiose ideas of capturing power.[4]
The flaws and foibles of left-wing intellectuals have been catalogued at length by Max Nomad, who seems to have made a career out of puncturing illusions about those who see themselves as saviours of the workers.[5]
These examples are of male intellectuals, but females are not exempt. Marlene Dixon was a left-winger whose writings and activism were highly resented by male academics. In her book Things Which Are Done in Secret she wrote powerfully about the machinations used to get rid of her and others at McGill University.[6] Later she became head of a Marxist-Leninist organisation. It had lofty ideals of gender and ethnic equality as part of revolutionary struggle. Dissident party members, on the other hand, portrayed Dixon as an abusive autocrat and alcoholic, enjoying privileges not permitted to the rank and file.[7]
But does it matter? What difference does it make whether great ideas come from flawed humans?
One answer is that it makes little or no difference. The key thing is the ideas themselves, not who came up with them. It is certainly true that ideas often can be used without being contaminated by where they came from. In the same way, it is possible to enjoy Wagner’s music or Picasso’s paintings without being affected by the politics or sexual life of Wagner or Picasso.
Another answer is that it does matter. Knowing the origins of ideas can help in assessing the ideas themselves. For example, a close analysis of the social context of early Marxism provides clues to limitations in Marxist theory itself, especially the privileged role it gives to intellectuals.[8] A study of the social influences on Darwin’s thought — Malthus’s ideas of a competitive struggle for survival were influential — provides insight into biases in evolutionary theory.[9]
To determine social influences on ideas can be a challenging task. There is no guarantee of finding anything in particular or anything at all. Even so, the behaviour of thinkers provides a basis for beginning an investigation. If communication scholars are plagiarists or sexual harassers, this does not automatically mean that communication theories are flawed. But if there are gross discrepancies between theory and behaviour, it is worthwhile finding out how they are justified or tolerated.
There is another way in which it matters that great ideas come from flawed individuals. It relates to the cult of celebrities.
Richard Schickel points out that the celebrity is a twentieth-century phenomenon, created especially by movies and television. He describes a culture of celebrity, in which people strive to be well known, even if this is only because they have appeared on the screen. The culture of celebrity, he argues, is undermining many traditional practices. For example, politicians are sold on the media in terms of image rather than policies.[10]
David Marshall argues that there is a system of celebrity which continues even though individuals come and go. The system depends on an interaction between celebrities and their audiences. The celebrity system is related to capitalism in that personality is made into a commodity.[11]
The cult of celebrities is making increasing inroads into scholarly circles. While many academics personally detest publicity about their work, some are gaining a public profile. At the highest level, a few become media stars, such as Carl Sagan and David Suzuki. Others become well known in particular circles. Nobel Prize winners become public figures. Suddenly their opinions become newsworthy, even when their views have little to do with their prize-winning research.
Rather than reading about ideas, it is increasingly commonplace to read about the person who is associated with the ideas — a “personal profile.” If an idea is not associated with a prominent thinker, it is more easily dismissed.
The cult of celebrity operates within academia itself. The latest intellectual fashions are typically associated with individuals, whether it is Jacques Derrida, Michel Foucault or Donna Haraway.
None of this is all that new. The striving for fame has been a tremendous driving force for centuries.[12] Technologies for mass communication, which gave rise to the modern celebrity, have been around for decades. Celebrity intellectuals are not new. They are just becoming more prevalent.
One consequence of this is that people are attracted to ideas because of the prominent intellectual who is associated with them. This is a mild version of what happens with various gurus and prophets. The followers have faith in their leader rather than thinking for themselves.
The other side of this dynamic is that if a person is shown to be flawed — a harasser, a plagiariser or just a snob — then this can serve to undermine the ideas they espouse. In other words, debates over ideas are pursued by attacking and defending the people associated with them.
Being a celebrity gives one a degree of power, and along with this comes various dangers. The first and most immediate risk for a famous person is to believe that one’s fame is truly deserved on the basis of one’s person rather than being due to the audience or historical circumstances. It is far easier to recognise that some other successful person was simply the “right person in the right place at the right time” than it is to see one’s own success in the same light.
Associated with this is a tendency towards arrogance and exclusivity. This can result in:
not answering queries except from those who are prominent themselves (though, admittedly, some well-known figures are totally overwhelmed by requests);
expecting special treatment in accommodation, travel and meetings;
charging high fees when not needed financially;
claiming credit for the work of assistants.
Another hazard is to encourage others to believe in one’s ideas rather than to think for themselves. Most celebrities depend on many followers being uncritical, since otherwise they would not be followers. If people thought for themselves, they would be unlikely to depend so much on a few prominent figures for wisdom — and most celebrities would no longer be put on such a pedestal.
The next step is to attack others who disagree. This can be done by the celebrity or by followers. Sometimes this is an open attack. More commonly in intellectual circles, it takes the form of denying publication to those who are out of fashion. This is not a sin peculiar to celebrities. There are numerous cases in which scholars have taken the ideas of subordinates without acknowledgment, blocked appointments and spread rumours, all with the aim of getting ahead and squashing competitors.
A final problem for celebrities is that they can avoid responsibility for their failings. Usually this happens because friends and supporters, who are most likely to know about the failings, keep quiet because they do not want to fall out of favour or to give ammunition to critics.[13]
2
Geraldine Finn, “Women and the ideology of science,”
3
Jerrold Seigel,
4
Alfred P. Mendel,
5
Max Nomad,
6
Marlene Dixon,
7
Peter Siegel, Nancy Strohl, Laura Ingram, David Roche and Jean Taylor, “Leninism as cult: the Democratic Workers Party,”
8
Alvin W. Gouldner,
9
Robert M. Young, “The historiographic and ideological contexts of the nineteenth-century debate on man’s place in nature,” in Mikulás Teich and Robert M. Young (eds.),
10
Richard Schickel,
11
P. David Marshall,
12
Leo Braudy,
13
These problems are also occupational hazards for gurus, who have similarities to celebrities. See Anthony Storr,