ISSN: 0040-5817 (print) • ISSN: 1558-5816 (online) • 4 issues per year
Published Open Access as part of the Berghahn Open Society collection.
The scope, compass and nature of the United States of America’s power in the post-9/11 context has run as a thematic thread through recent issues of Theoria. The British Prime Minister Tony Blair has appealed to the other members
of the European Union to engage constructively with the Bush
administration as a means of working towards peace in a perilous
world. The combination of highly developed destructive capacity, relative
economic decline, diplomatic incompetence, and continuing
political divisions among a frustrated and resentful population that is
deeply ignorant of the wider world and subject to recurrent bouts of
collective paranoia does indeed make the United States a dangerous
international agent. One of the main ways, in particular, in which the
U.S. represents a particular menace to world peace at the moment is
that it has come to be in Washington’s short-term interest to make the
world a place in which the quick recourse to violence, and the constant
threat of violence, is accepted as part of normal practice in international
relations. The use of military power presents itself as an
increasingly attractive option primarily because the U.S. is becoming
weaker and weaker economically and politically, and force is one of
the few means U.S. politicians can deploy that offer any hope whatever
of allowing them to advance or protect what they think are their
vital interests. Each one of T.H. Marshall’s trinity of human rights rested on the state
as, simultaneously, its birth place, executive manager and guardian.
And no wonder. At the time Marshall tied personal, political and
social freedoms into a historically determined succession of
won/bestowed rights, the boundaries of the sovereign state marked the
limits of what humans could contemplate, and what they thought they
should jointly do, in order to make their world more user-friendly. The
state enclosed territory was the site of private initiatives and public
actions, as well as the arena on which private interests and public
issues met, clashed and sought reconciliation. In all those respects,
the realm of state sovereignty was presumed to be self-contained, selfassertive
and self-sufficient. In 1997, the World Bank Group1 published in English one of its many
country studies, entitled Vietnam: Education Financing. Its goal was
to measure ‘what changes in educational policies will ensure that students
who pass through the system today will acquire the knowledge,
skills and attitudes needed for Vietnam to complete the transition successfully
from a planned to a market economy’(World Bank 1997:
xiii). Skills, knowledge, and attitude designate the successfully ‘educated’
Vietnamese national subjects for the bank. The educational
‘system’ performs, therefore, a disciplinary function by using the
technologies of the nation state to cultivate productive humans—measured
by technical expertise and computer and business skills—for
transnational companies who do business in the region. When administrative scientists look to the current scholarship surrounding
the phenomenon of technological development, they will
inevitably be forced to grapple not only with an entire battery of
abstract theories portraying technological development as more or less
socially determined or autonomous. These policy analysts will also be
obliged to struggle with the daunting task of developing a coherent,
causal, subject-oriented and systematic framework for describing,
comparing and even creating public technology policies. Understanding
the spectrum of theories available when examining public information
technology policy development (hereafter IT-policy) from an
administrative sciences perspective, including how these theories
relate to each other and differ in nature, is paramount to any attempt
to formulate such a systematic framework regarding the subject.
Indeed, it is crucial in order to defend one’s choice of methodology. Much recent theory of an anti-foundationalist or ‘post-ist’ hue has
made a point of returning us to historicity. If modern theory sought
the universal, then postmodern theory has favoured the particular, the
situated, and the historically contextual: the little narrative, the
silenced voice, the marginalised other. This is, to be sure, a simplification
of both sides of the comparison. But it opens up a pressing
question. What kinds of relationship to historicity are opened up by
postmodern theory? In an age when relations with the past have taken
on a particular kind of resonance—through truth commissions,
retrievals of underplayed or silenced events, commemorative projects,
and in a more general sense, a concern for the historical contexts of
group and individual identities—what help does such theory offer us
in seeking a grasp of such relations? Empire, by Michael Hardt & Antonio Negri. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2000. ISBN: 0674251210. Empire’s New Clothes: Reading Hardt and Negri, edited by Paul A. Passavant & Jodi Dean. New York: Routledge, 2004. ISBN: 0415935555. Power: a Radical View (Second Edition), by Steven Lukes. London: Palgrave, 2005. ISBN: 0-333-42092-6.
Notes on contributorsVolume 52 Issue 108