Evidence for elite overproduction could be better
On reformulating an important hypothesis
This week, the case of David Austin Walsh prompted the reemergence of debates about elite overproduction. Walsh is a precariously-employed historian at Yale and, following tweets about his prospects on the academic labour market which descended into polemic, became the object of a Twitter/X storm.
The academic Noah Smith wrote an interesting analysis, arguing that Walsh was a classic instance of elite overproduction. This hypothesis states that surplus elites drive unrest and was proposed by the polymath Peter Turchin.
In an earlier article, Smith argued that this hypothesis explains current trends in American politics, emphasizing the surplus of humanities graduates in the 2010s. Historically, such people entered elite professions and post-Great Recession labour markets were a rude awakening,
‘If you graduated with a degree in English or History back in 2006, what would you do with that degree? If you wanted a secure stable prestigious high-paying job, you could go to law school and be a lawyer. If you wanted to live on the East Coast and work in an industry with a romantic reputation, you could work in media or publishing. If you just wanted intellectual stimulation and prestige, you could try for academia…
All of these traditional career paths for humanities graduates suffered in the late 2000s and 2010s. But at the same time, there had been a giant boom in the number of people studying humanities…
It’s easy to draw a line between this unhappiness and the socialist movement in the U.S. Socialism rapidly became more popular among young Americans in the 2010s, and the Bernie Sanders movement exploded upon the national scene. The socialist movement has people from all classes, but overall it’s far from a proletarian movement — this is fundamentally a revolt of the professional-managerial class, or at least the people who expected their education to make them a part of that class. It’s telling that two of the new socialist movement’s most passionate crusades have been student debt forgiveness and free college.’
Building on Smith, we might note the heavy influence of the humanities on social justice ideology (a preferable term to ‘woke’); this emphasizes identity, direct action and emotional safety. These concepts originated in humanities departments and, enduring hardship and disappointment, graduates would have reached for such ideas. The socioeconomic focus of Smith’s hypothesis entails similarity with another internet hypothesis: Rob Henderson’s theory of luxury beliefs. This argues that social justice positions are rooted in the desire for status.
Whilst these hypotheses are compelling, they have undergone limited empirical testing. I am unaware of published work which tests the luxury beliefs hypothesis, let alone Smith’s argument. This is changing. Recently, colleagues and I fielded a survey of 900 US progressives (i.e. voters with liberal and/or social justice values), which used the Progressive Values Scale – this distinguishes between liberal and social justice values – and included questions on status (e.g. ‘In our society there are groups which tend to be towards the top and groups which tend to be towards the bottom... Where would you put yourself on this scale?’; ‘I felt relatively wealthy compared to the other kids in my school’).
Currently, I am exploring data, yet can find little relationship between socioeconomic status and social justice ideology. This fits a pattern. In analysis of the American National Election Study (ANES) and British Election Study (BES), I have discovered limited association between economic influences and social justice values. Contrastingly, demographic variables such as education, female sex and youth have strong associations with these values. Interestingly, literature on radical right populism also finds that demographic variables are more important than economic ones.
Admittedly, the Smith hypothesis is distinct and we did not specifically test it. Post-2008 humanities graduates are a small demographic and our sample included few such voters. In future, researchers might investigate economic hypotheses with such a sample. Findings may be revealing, just as later studies of radical right populism support certain economic arguments.
Of course, quantitative methods overlook nuances, qualitative analysis providing deeper insight. Certainly, the Smith hypothesis deserves the attention of qualitative researchers. Something happened in the 2010s. As the Paroxysms Substack observes, liberalism and its accompanying model of capitalism ran out of steam. This model emphasized equal opportunities and autonomy, originating in the 1960s and maturing during the 1980s, yet its contradictions became stark. If the promise of equal opportunities were true, why did rich white men dominate top positions and why were so many humanities graduates excluded? Consistent with Blyth’s argument about the generational reinvention of capitalism, there was need for a model consistent with the values of young demographics; social-justice ideology provided this.
Yet as Blyth emphasizes, the move from one capitalist model to another does not happen automatically; years before its victory, the succeeding model must have proponents. Here, the elite overproduction hypothesis becomes relevant. Notwithstanding poor career prospects, figures such as Walsh have cultural influence. After all, he is a Yale historian and has tens of thousands of Twitter/X followers. Other members of this class may not be so prominent, but tend to be concentrated in sectors which help shape opinion. For example, they might have precarious jobs in journalism or publishing. This proximity to cultural power provides opportunities to change conversations. This happened in the 2010s, sociocultural sectors and (later) corporations embracing social justice ideology.
Recent elite overproduction may work in this way; this would account for the dearth of quantitative evidence and, even if not a primary factor in the emergence of social justice ideology, helps us explain the phenomenon.
Alas, we continue to know little about social justice ideology. Despite an abundance of popular books, academic research remains underdeveloped. Beyond problems associated with time – academic research takes years – there is a specific issue; many researchers contest the very existence of social justice ideology, dismissing it as a rebranding of conservative concerns.
As I have argued previously on this Substack, this must change.
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As I find myself keep saying (to anyone who'll listen) Social Justice is better understood as a Psychology than as an Ideology. As an ideology it holds no water....in our time white people are not more racist than other ethnicities but less so.....homosexuality is not demonised but valorised etc etc. So the Social Justice belief system survives and thrives in spite of, not in accordance with the evidence. So why does it? Because it makes people FEEL good and FEEL sophisicated. It also gives its adherents a free pass to vent their bile and animus against their peers (as in Freud's Narcissism of Small Differences). On a theoretical level I would say that Lasch's 'Culture of Narcissism' has more depth than Henderson's (somewhat over-hyped in my view) Luxury Beliefs meme.
I understand though that your field is empirical research and so I would suggest that in order to understand what is driving its upsurge in recent times, the Social/Evolutionary Psychological disciplines are important avenues.
I never saw Henderson's LB idea as anything more than an observation. I've never seen him advance any actual evidence of real world causation for it. What would a test of its explanatory power even look like? (Rhetorical question).