Corporate social responsibility á la the liberal communist

Abstract

This article explores the ‘liberal communist’, a conceptual and satirical figure originally elaborated in the work of Slavoj Žižek (2008). The liberal communist claims (1) that there is no opposition between capitalism and the social good; (2) that all problems are of a practical nature, and hence best solved by corporate engagement and (3) that hierarchies, authority and centralized bureaucracies should be replaced by dynamic structures, a nomadic lifestyle and a flexible spirit. This analysis of the liberal communist has at least two implications for research on CSR. First, it examines the ideological role of CSR by moving beyond a propaganda view, instead offering an ideological reading that focuses on the ways in which CSR seeks to obliterate any existing contradictions between ‘philanthropic actions’ on the one hand and ‘profit-seeking business activities’ on the other hand. Second, it demonstrates how critique is not necessarily what corporations seek to avoid, but something that they actively engage in.

Corporate social responsibility (hereafter, CSR) has become a central concept in business and management theory (Lee, 2008). As such, it has been subject to mounting suspicion. A common objection is that CSR is often limited to glossy annual reports and slick management rhetoric, and that corporations routinely exaggerate their philanthropic activities with the intention of improving their reputation and image (Deegan, 2002; Hooghiemstra, 2000; Roberts, 2003). In short, corporations do not deliver what they promise, and are far less transparent and accountable than they purport to be (Freeman and Liedtka, 1991). This offers a welcome counterpoint to the more uninhibited celebrations of CSR. Yet, some have argued that this criticism does not go far enough, because it fails to critically address the underlying assumption of CSR, namely that social values and capitalism can be combined in a seamless and complementary manner (Hanlon, 2007; Jones, 1996; Shamir, 2008).

This article seeks to engage and extend this recent critique by examining the ideological nature of CSR. ¹ We begin from the observation that corporations themselves have begun employing a language of critique, in some cases even a critique of capitalism, as the founders of the ice-cream maker Ben & Jerry’s exemplified through its support of the Occupy movement, or when Mercedes Benz used the iconic image of Che Guevarra to promote car sharing. The argument we put forth is that this trend should not be viewed as evidence that corporations now consider their political and social role more seriously, although it may hold true in some individual cases. Rather it signifies an ideological shift that is closely connected to what some have called a new spirit of capitalism (Boltanski and Chiapello, 2005). We claim that CSR, and in particular forms of engagement that involve social critique, deserve serious scrutiny from an ideological viewpoint, because one of the most central functions of ideology is to render invisible those contradictions that exist between, for instance, profit-seeking business activities and a notion of the social good.

To make this argument we will explore the concept of the ‘liberal communist’, as originally elaborated by the Slovenian philosopher Slavoj Žižek. This notion has been mentioned previously in relation to CSR (Cederström and Fleming, 2012; Fleming and Jones, 2013; Moncrieff, 2011), but then mainly in a sweeping and cursory manner. In this article we seek to analyse the concept in a more systematic fashion by relating it to CSR. We note that liberal communism consists in three complementary dimensions. First, liberal communism denies any tension between a wider concern for the public good and profit making, what Bill Gates has called ‘frictionless capitalism’ (Moncrieff, 2011; Žižek, 2008). We seek to develop this point by considering how CSR has set out to reconcile business interest with environmental concerns. While business activities were originally seen as running counter to the environment, corporate environmentalism offered a strategic tool aiming to obliterate this opposition (Karliner, 1997). Second, liberal communism is concerned with practical problems only (Dunne, 2008). This focus downplays ideological or political issues. Politically sensitive issues surrounding corporate activity and its possible detrimental effects on society are routinely sidestepped (see also Fleming and Jones, 2013). To develop this point in relation to CSR, we will consider the legitimation of sweatshops, which some pragmatic commentators view as necessary harbingers of economic development. Third, liberal communism is opposed to hierarchy, authority and centralized bureaucracy. Instead it endorses the dynamic, nomadic and the flexible. This is closely related to what some have called ‘cool capitalism’ (McGuigan, 2009), or the ‘cool capitalist’ (Žižek, 2009). To illustrate this, we consider the ice-cream makers Ben & Jerry’s curious support of the Occupy Wall Street movement.

After analysing the key aspects of the liberal communist, we consider the implications this analysis has on current debates about CSR. We will argue that the liberal communist, although having a number of precursors, is a distinctly contemporary phenomenon. It does not passively respond to forms of social and political critique. Rather it engages with critique in a more pro-active manner. This is an important point to consider because it demonstrates how corporations now engage in a particular ideology, according to which corporations can be anti-capitalist actors while making profit in the meantime. This says something important about capitalism and how, by ceaselessly renewing itself, capitalism seeks to overcome its own crisis (Cremin, 2011). By extension, we argue that one possible avenue for corporations to address this capitalism-in-crisis is by dissociating themselves from capitalism, at least those aspects of capitalism which are often criticized (mindless accumulation, exploitation, alienation, etc.). It is in this context that our examination of the liberal communist should be read, as a figure that seeks to restore the legitimacy of business and capitalism by engaging more proactively with various forms of social critique.

The analysis of the liberal communist that we offer in this article has at least two implications for research on CSR. First, it examines the ideological role of CSR by moving beyond a propaganda view—which maintains that CSR, first and foremost, is a popular weapon of propaganda used to improve the guise of the corporation. Here, we offer an ideological reading that focuses on the ways in which CSR seeks to obliterate any existing contradictions between ‘philanthropic actions’ on the one hand and ‘profit-seeking business activities’ on the other. Again, many corporations currently experience a legitimacy crisis, which has made it increasingly difficult for them to openly defend their activities. The second implication for previous research on CSR comes out of our theoretical and empirical discussion on the nature of critique. We argue that the critique that the liberal communist engages with is a very particular one. In contrast to forms of critique that seek to destabilize a structural condition by contesting its basis, the critique that the liberal communist explores is one that has no intention to contest the basic premises of capitalist accumulation or business activities. On the contrary, we argue that this is a form of critique that seeks to maintain the legitimacy of capitalism.

The liberal communist

In Violence, published in 2008, Žižek introduces what he terms the liberal communist. Satirically, he describes this figure as someone who (1) fails to acknowledge the antagonistic relationship between capitalism and the social good; (2) is concerned exclusively with practical problems and (3) is against traditional hierarchies and bureaucracy, but in favour of a dynamic and anti-conformist lifestyle. Before unpacking these dimensions we wish to point to a set of problems associated with the use of this concept.

Satire is a powerful, critical tool, but also hazardous: it easily lends itself to misinterpretation. Žižek’s satirical image of the ‘liberal communist’ is no exception. We can note at least three dangers involved in employing this concept. First, liberal communism could be used to critique any conceivable ambition to pursue ethical ends. Here, ethical engagement is automatically reduced to various forms of laughable life-style choices. Second, liberal communism is used as a pejorative term to demonize any political engagement that is not conservative. This is how the liberal communist has been portrayed in the mainstream US media. For instance, Barack Obama has been described as a liberal communist by right-wing commentators. The aim of this characterization, we would argue, is to associate or even equate one word that Obama is openly endorsing (liberal), with one that is widely unpopular in the US (communism). Third, the liberal communist is problematic insofar as it facetiously considers two concepts that are otherwise immensely important in Žižek’s critique of capitalism. A considerable part of Žižek’s work is concerned with the detrimental effects of liberalism. Meanwhile, he has become increasingly supportive of communism as an alternative way of thinking about politics (Žižek, 2009). It should therefore be noted that Žižek’s use of liberal communism is only incidentally related to his more far-reaching examinations of liberalism and communism as two very different political systems and ideologies.

In spite of these problems, we suggest that liberal communism offers a productive framework that highlights three points, each of which provides us with a distinctive critique of CSR. We will return to this critique at the end of this article.

Frictionless capitalism—the corporation as the saviour of the environment

The fundamental belief of the liberal communist is ‘that we can have the global capitalist cake, i.e. thrive as profitable entrepreneurs, and eat it, too, i.e. endorse the anti-capitalist causes of social responsibility and ecological concern’ (Žižek, 2008: 16). This indicates a concern for a broader set of social issues, whether social injustice, environmental degradation, animal rights, poverty or starvation. But it also indicates a firm conviction that the most effective way to address these issues is through a liberal market economy, with a focus on entrepreneurship, innovations and a wider influence of corporate interests.

The corporation is viewed as a positive force in a market economy, one that can be based on and foster ethical ideals (recall Google’s informal corporate slogan ‘don’t be evil’; see Cederström and Grassman, 2007). One of the most prominent representatives of this view is Bill Gates. In a now famous speech, delivered at the 2008 World Economic Forum in Davos, he launched his idea of ‘creative capitalism’. At its essence, creative capitalism is ‘an approach where governments, businesses, and nonprofits work together to stretch the reach of market forces so that more people can make a profit, or gain recognition, doing work that eases the world’s inequities’ (Gates, 2008). ‘Such a system’, Gates continues, ‘would have a twin mission: making profits and also improving lives of those who don’t fully benefit from today’s market forces. For sustainability we need to use profit incentives wherever we can’ (Gates, 2008). This is frictionless capitalism. To Gates, there is no opposition between the creative forces of capitalism and the social care of communism. Rather, he regards profit as the best incentive to lift people out of poverty and to improve lives in developing countries.

The ‘twin mission’ of creative capitalism that Gates describes is reflected in how CSR is usually defined. For instance, the European Commission defines CSR as ‘[a] concept whereby companies integrate social and environmental concerns in their business operations and in their interaction with their stakeholders on a voluntary basis’. The UK government, meanwhile, views CSR as ‘[t]he voluntary actions that business can take, over and above compliance with minimum legal requirements, to address both its own competitive interests and the interests of wider society’. These definitions, along with many others, point to a wide array of actions that corporations undertake in order to act in accordance, not just with their shareholders, but with a wider set of stakeholders (see Carroll, 1979).

It is important to note that, in previous eras, corporate social responsibility was highly controversial. In the 1920s, for instance, it was seen as deeply unethical to take into consideration any interest beyond that of the shareholders. This became evident as Henry Ford was planning to re-invest part of Ford Motors profits on plant expansion (and hence providing more people with employment) rather than dividend payments (Lee, 2008; see also Banerjee, 2008; Regan, 1998). This ‘philanthropic exercise’ sparked violent protests among the shareholders, and Ford was brought to court and lost the case on the basis of having sidestepped his responsibility towards shareholders (Banerjee, 2008).

This view lingers on, however. In a much cited article from the New York Times Magazine, Milton Friedman claims that ‘the social responsibility of business is to increase its profits’ (1970), a quote that is often summed up in the now clichéd slogan ‘the business of business is business’. A more recent example of this view can be found in the commentaries by the conservative journalist Nick Nichols who, with explicit reference to Friedman, has suggested that CSR is a socialist project which ultimately confiscates money from shareholders:

When Americans actually start investing in the markets again, I suspect they will not take kindly to the Corporate Social Responsibility crowd who pressured hundreds of publicly traded companies to spend hard-earned shareholder cash on socialist projects that had little to do with the bottom line. (Nichols, 2009)

The major concern—which runs from the violent outbreak triggered by Ford’s initiative in the 1920s through to Friedman’s argument that business should be concerned with making profits—has largely remained the same: that CSR impinges negatively on shareholder value. This view has become outdated over time, however, mainly because there is now a prevailing view that CSR is having a positive impact on business, and hence to the benefit of shareholders. For instance, quantitative studies have suggested that corporate social performance has a positive impact on financial performance (Margolis and Walsh, 2003), although other studies have more modestly suggested that at the very least there is no negative relation between profit and philanthropic engagements (Orlitzky et al., 2003; see also Banerjee, 2008). Studies have also demonstrated that, whether positive or not for the individual organization, responsible commitments do have a positive impact at an industry level (Porter and Kramer, 2006). Another central argument is that corporations, if failing to present themselves as socially responsible, may put their brand value at risk (see Mintzberg, 1983). With this in mind, it is hardly surprising that when Henry Ford’s grandson, William Clay Ford Jr proclaimed in 1999 that ‘[w]e want to find ingenious new ways to delight consumers, provide superior returns to shareholders and make the world a better place for all of us’ (Meredith, 1999, as cited in Lee, 2008: 54), he did not have to respond to fuming protests from the shareholders, as his grandfather had to do. Instead, he was hailed for his efforts to implement a greater social awareness. Indeed, this suggests that much has happened to the discourse of CSR over the 80 years that separate the two statements.

This shift towards CSR as good for business has been well documented in the academic literature. In his examination of the history of CSR, Carroll (1999) suggests that it is not until the 1990s that the literature began to more explicitly evaluate the financial performance of CSR—often under the heading of Corporate Social Performance (see also Orlitzky et al., 2003, Wahba, 2008). Banerjee (2008), meanwhile, has suggested that the normative pressures placed on corporations—to think beyond mere profiteering, to be ethical and transparent and to engage with the local communities within which they operate—are primarily motivated by the assumption that fulfilling these criteria result in better financial performance, while failing to live up to them might jeopardize the corporation’s operations in particular areas. Finally, Sabadoz (2011) has argued that the vague and ambivalent definition of CSR has contributed to maintaining the interest of the corporation in making profit. Frictionless capitalism indeed.

One illustration of Gates’ frictionless capitalism is how corporations have become increasingly interested in various forms of environmental engagement. What makes this example particularly telling is that it allows corporations to engage in social critique without necessarily questioning the systemic features of capitalism. Whereas some would highlight corporate activities as the root cause of environmental degradation, the liberal communist would see the corporation as best-suited to deal with environmental problems.

Indeed, the environment has not always been on the top of corporations’ agenda. This interest emerged as the global recession of the late 1970s waned. A central part of this was a series of environmental disasters during the 1980s: the Bhopal chemical explosion (1984), the Chernobyl Nuclear plant meltdown (1986) and the Exxon Valdeez oil spill (1989). The environmental message, that up until this point had been peddled only by green activists, now became a concern for corporations and made it into the boardroom. To use Starik’s (1995) term, the environment became a prominent stakeholder for corporations.

It was during this era, at the dawn of the 1980s and the beginning of 1990s, that corporate social responsibility began to take more interest in corporate environmental responsibility. This was a direct response to wider accusation that business activities were complicit in environmental degradation. At the same time, CSR in America became more strategic and professionalized (Epstein, 1989). In this spirit, companies established CSR units and departments, corporate giving became more formalized and social activities were intimately tied to the marketing of the corporate brand. This professionalization of the CSR function meant the corporate sector was well prepared to meet the intensification, in the 1980s, of the green threat to corporate legitimacy.

This culminated in what Karliner (1997) terms corporate environmentalism. The pressure exerted by social movements combined with the prospect of new environmental regulations, made corporations engage more actively with green policies such as green marketing and the provision of environmentally friendly products (Ergardio, 2007). However, the corporations that were taking these threats most seriously were those involved at the sharp end of the environment—particularly transatlantic energy and oil companies—which embraced dark green solutions involving ideas about sustainability. These included the introduction of clean technologies and less resource depleting production techniques. But more than that, it involved embracing the language and practices of sustainability on a broader level, so that they could effectively ward off ‘the threat that the environmental movement might convince the world’s governments to force them to make far-reaching changes’ (Karliner, 1997: 32). It was in this context that the eco-friendly CEO, or the CE(C)O, emerged as a prominent figure, one who was introducing the idea of sustainability to the global economic agenda. Examples include Richard Branson and his pursuit to develop bio-fuel alternatives, or General Electric’s Jeffrey Immelt who advocates sustainable, carbon-reducing environmental practices on business grounds. These figures would be prime examples of the liberal communist as they embrace the corporation as an engine for bringing about social and environmental change.

The corporate response to the green challenge has also proven very astute in manipulating environmental regulation. Corporations have certainly accepted the inevitability of environmental regulation. Yet they have shaped the agenda of regulations in such a way as to ensure their interests in profits are not in any way diluted. When regulation intensified in the US during the 1970s, companies were intractably opposed to strict regulations over the production process, seeing it as having a devastating effect on free enterprise. Companies with poor energy and resource depleting records preferred regulators to focus on waste disposal. Karliner makes a telling observation about this regulatory compromise:

Northern industrialized countries bowed to pressure from the corporate world and instituted a series of ‘end of pipe’ and ‘downstream’ disposal-orientated solutions. These legislative responses—akin to mandating filter on carcinogenic cigarettes—preserved the production status quo … . (Karliner, 1997: 34)

Here, companies and liberal communist mouthpieces were able to accept the green critique and made it their own. Hence the pursuit of traditional economic goals was not disturbed.

The pragmatic turn—embracing the sweatshop

If the liberal communist were defined only by its ambition to marry business with ethical social engagements it would remain unsatisfactorily broad and conceptually imprecise. An additional feature of liberal communism is that it seeks to avoid issues of ideology, political economy or any other structural explanations. Instead, liberal communism is concerned with practical problems only. In his satirical depiction, Žižek writes:

They [the liberal communists] hate a doctrinaire approach. For them there is no single exploited working class today. There are only concrete problems to be solved: starvation in Africa, the plight of Muslim women, religious fundamentalist violence. When there is a humanitarian crisis in Africa—and liberal communists really love humanitarian crises, which bring out the best in them!—there is no point in engaging in old-style anti-imperialist rhetoric. Instead, all of us should just concentrate on what really does the work of solving the problem: engage people, governments, and business in a common enterprise; start moving things, instead of relying on centralised state help; approach the crisis in a creative and unconventional way, without fretting over labels. (Žižek, 2008: 18–19)

The focus on practical problems at the expense of broader contextual issues is echoed in the CSR literature. It has been suggested that CSR, both in academic terms and practice, has become gradually rationalized over the years. As a consequence, CSR is concerned almost exclusively with the corporation and financial performance, as relatively isolated phenomena, at the expense of situational, contextual and macro-social issues. Moreover, in his review of extant research, Dunne (2008) has suggested that there is a strong pragmatic bias—by which it is suggested that there is less space given to reflection than devising realistic solutions to concrete problems. The result is that questions of how—especially how CSR initiatives might be successfully implemented—become prioritized at the expense of more fundamental questions seeking an answer to what counts as CSR in the first place—conceptually, let alone philosophically. Along similar lines, Windsor (2001) has suggested that the literature on CSR has become increasingly concerned with managerial views and best practice, hence a preoccupation with crafting standardized templates for what passes as ethical conduct (see also Jones, 1996).

One illustration of this pragmatic orientation follows from the more accepted view that developing countries benefit from engaging with foreign investors and transnational corporations. Some have extended this argument by suggesting that these countries first need to go through times of significant hardship and difficulty in order to enter the right track and lift themselves out of poverty. This argument is often legitimated by reference to the industrialization of Europe and particularly England, which resulted in great socio-economic upheaval. This is the view held by the Columbia University economist Jeffrey Sachs, who once claimed that sweatshops should not be eradicated but rather seen as signs of actual development. During a Harvard panel discussion, Sachs said, ‘My concern is not that there are too many sweatshops but that there are too few’. Viewing sweatshops as inhumane places, that need to be closed down, is hence dispelled as a narrow and destructive viewpoint that prevents development. This is reflected in the Pulitzer prize winner, Nicholas Kristof, who in a New York Times Magazine article (disturbingly titled ‘Two cheers for sweatshops’) endorsed this logic by explaining that when he first moved to Asia he, ‘like most Westerners’, was outraged at the sweatshops, but eventually came to appreciate them as ‘a clear sign of the industrial revolution that is beginning to reshape Asia’. Another vocal supporter of the sweatshop logic is Thomas Friedman (singled out by Žižek as a prime example of a liberal communist). In one newspaper piece, Friedman violently attacks those who seek to support local trade unions or work towards safer working environments. Friedman writes:

whom to root against: [r]oot against the economic quacks peddling conspiracy theories about globalization; the anti-free-trade extremists, such as Ralph Nader’s group, Public Citizen; the protectionist trade unions; and the anarchists. These groups deserve to be called by their real name: ‘The Coalition to Keep the World’s Poor People Poor’. (Friedman, 2000: A7)

A pragmatic orientation is distinguished by its ignorance of structural questions. It will look at particular problems—such as poverty—and argue that the one best way to address such problems is through corporate, mainly voluntary, intervention.

Another example of the pragmatic approach is the Live Aid concerts held in 1985. As Mark Fisher has pointed out, this project was based on the assumption that ‘“caring individuals” could end famine directly, without the need for any kind of political solution or systemic reorganization’ (Fisher, 2009: 15). But this is not a philanthropic engagement that in any way seeks to challenge capitalism, as a system that has even remotely contributed to the problems of poverty and starvation. Rather, Fisher continues, ‘the aim was only to ensure that some of the proceeds of particular transactions went to good causes. The fantasy being that western consumerism, far from being intrinsically implicated in systemic global inequality, could itself solve them’ (Fisher, 2009). The ideological element of the pragmatic turn is hence its unwillingness to address structural questions of global inequity and the role that corporate interests will have. As we will argue in the discussion of this article, CSR often assumes a similarly pragmatic, and hence narrow, orientation as that presented by the liberal communist, whether we see it embodied by Bono or Thomas Friedman.

The smart and ‘cool’ capitalist

So far the liberal communist has been described as follows: as one who (1) believes that business’s pursuit of profit and the wider social good are congruous and as one who (2) focuses exclusively on practical solutions. To capture Žižek’s more animated scorn against the liberal communist, we need to turn to the third characteristic feature of this figure, namely that he or she is ‘smart’. Satirically, Žižek describes ‘smart’ as such:

smart indicates the dynamic and nomadic as against centralized bureaucracy; dialogue and cooperation against hierarchical authority; flexibility against routine; culture and knowledge against old industrial production; spontaneous interaction and autopoiesis against fixed hierarchy. (Žižek, 2008: 16–17)

Smart, here, is indicative of a shift from Fordism to post-Fordism, from hierarchical bureaucracy to rhizomatic networks, or from the white collar to the no-collar (Ross, 2004). Since Žižek is employing the word ‘smart’ in an ironic manner, it requires some unpacking. We suggest that ‘smart’ is close to what Gates calls frictionless capitalism, but with an additional feature: it involves the cultivation of a particular attitude. This attitude, we suggest, is the ‘cool’ attitude, which is closely associated with the new spirit of capitalism (Boltanski and Chiapello, 2005). In First as Tragedy Then as Farce, Žižek writes:

The new spirit of capitalism triumphantly recuperated the egalitarian and anti-hierarchical rhetoric of 1968, presenting itself as a successful libertarian revolt against the oppressive social organizations characteristic of both corporate capitalism and Really Existing Socialism—a new libertarian spirit epitomized by dressed-down ‘cool’ capitalists such as Bill Gates and the founders of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. (2009: 56)

This is a key historical development in management discourse, which is central also to the development of CSR (Shamir, 2010). Boltanski and Chiapello (2005) argue that in the aftermath of the 1968 protests in Paris, critique underwent a significant conceptual transformation. Up until that point, forms of social critique (involving issues of egoism, injustice and suffering) were inseparable from artistic critique (involving issues of authenticity and liberation). But gradually these two forms of critique drifted apart: social critique went out of vogue, while artistic critique became increasingly popular. What Boltanski and Chiapello (2005) go on to suggest, via a historical reading of management texts, is that corporations, from the 1970s onwards, began to employ a particular rhetoric aiming to respond to forms of artistic critique, such as experiences of inauthenticity and a lack of freedom (Fleming, 2009). Hence, personal freedom and individual emancipation—slogans that were frequently used during the 1968 protests—suddenly became endorsed by management gurus, and corporate leaders (cf. Tom Peter’s liberation management).

However, ‘cool capitalists’ such as Bill Gates and the founders of Ben & Jerry’s (Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield) seem to address not only issues of artistic critique but also social ones. Bill Gates has become known for setting up, together with his wife, the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, which supports various social projects around the globe, most notably directed towards combatting HIV/AIDS in Africa. The founders of Ben & Jerry’s have also been recognized for their social engagement. For instance, it is stated on the company website that Ben & Jerry aims ‘to improve the life of the broad-based community’ (see Dennis et al., 1998). But what make Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield particularly interesting is that they, unlike Bill Gates, have supported causes that seem to attack capitalism in a more radical and direct way. Shortly after the eruption of the Occupy Wall Street movement, Cohen and Greenfield began their involvement by giving out free ice cream. Shortly afterwards they started to raise money for Occupy and by the end of February, 2012, they had raised about $300,000 for the said movement. For both Greenfield and Cohen, their support of the movement was all about helping it to get its message out there to a wider audience. In one interview Cohen observed: ‘This is providing the fuel for this Movement, which is rocking and rolling. And the amount of energy and planning that’s gone on in the winter is unbelievable, and it’s going to be a really productive summer and spring’ (Scott, 2012). Note the hip, and un-CEO like, cultural reference to rock ‘n’ roll. ‘Cool’ indeed.

‘Cool’ here refers to the predilections of contemporary liberal communists to embrace subterranean, underground cultural values and even express a counter-cultural critique. Think of ‘cool’ here as referring to a new hipster capitalism. This would imply that corporations are not merely seeking to avoid criticism, but instead proactively integrating social critique into their own business model.

Discussion: the liberal communist today

The liberal communist is a satirical construction that aims to capture what Žižek sees as the fundamental contradiction in late-capitalism. As with all satire, this concept needs to be read cautiously. Žižek names a number of people that he sees as liberal communists, including ‘Bill Gates and George Soros, the CEOs of Google, IBM, Intel, eBay, as well as their court philosophers, most notably the journalist Thomas Friedman’ (Žižek, 2008: 16). When seriously scrutinized, few of these people perfectly match the more narrow definition of the liberal communist. But the point of Žižek’s analysis, we claim, is not to single out these figures and to label them. A more fruitful approach is to treat Žižek’s list of figures as graphic illustrations rather than exact manifestations. For instance, George Soros may be a good illustration of someone who subscribes to a pragmatic agenda, but would not easily fit the label ‘cool capitalist’. We need to remind ourselves here that the liberal communist is not intended as a Jungian archetype, seeking to capture a limited set of personality traits. Rather, liberal communist figures should be seen, in a Lacanian sense, as ideal images, images which are not so much direct representations of living people as symbolic manifestations of idealized people.

In addition, it is important to remember that satire—which is the genre in which Žižek writes about the liberal communist—is a form of social critique that often seeks to shame particular people or phenomena. However, we claim that Žižek’s intention is not to shame these particular people, as he seeks to shame a particular ideal image, to which these people loosely correspond. Different as they are, these figures share one thing: the stern belief that capitalism can be seamlessly combined with a project of public good, or what Žižek calls ‘cultural capitalism’.

With this in mind, we wish to spell out two significant contributions of such insights regarding the liberal communist to the field of CSR. The first one relates to ideology and the second to critique.

Ideology and CSR

It is crucial to note that Žižek does not see liberalism and communism as two sides of the same coin, or as complementary political ideologies. On the contrary, the liberal communist seeks to bridge what Žižek views as two fundamentally antagonistic and incongruent categories. And it is precisely in its denial of this antagonism that liberal communism is ideological. As Žižek repeatedly reminds us, ideology operates at its best when no fissures are noticed, and when ‘reality’ appears as natural and can go on in an uninterrupted fashion.

The analysis of the liberal communist extends previous discussions on CSR and ideology by examining the ways in which capitalist sentiments are rhetorically bridged with notions of ethics and social good. This perspective on ideology moves beyond a propaganda view, which holds that corporations cynically lie about their engagement in order to improve their symbolic value. We obviously do not deny that corporations routinely do this, but we suggest that a more important trend, which is potentially even more problematic from an ethical viewpoint, is how corporations tell the ‘truth’, but a very specific kind of truth, which is akin to what Mark Fisher has called capitalist realism—that is, ‘the widespread sense that not only is capitalism the only viable political and economic system, but also that it is now impossible even to imagine a coherent alternative to it’ (2009: 2). The truth is hence a restricted and sealed truth, one that can only fit within the frame of capitalist reality.

Recall here how Jeffrey Sachs and others have advocated the existence of sweatshops by claiming that they constitute signs of actual development. Rather than viewing sweatshops as indefensible on ethical or humanitarian grounds, for these commentators, they constitute a necessary evil, something that has to happen in order for something better to appear. Molinsky and Margolis have argued along similar lines, claiming that in order to ‘produce a beneficial result, professionals must sometimes cause harm to another human being’ (2005: 245). Exactly what the beneficial result may look like is not clear. Meanwhile, it gives license for corporations to act in ways that can cause harm. All they need to do by way of ethical justification is to promise that, eventually at some point, their actions will lead to something good. Thus, ideology is not used to deny a particular reality, but to render that reality as necessary and hence natural.

More and more academic studies have addressed the ideological aspect of CSR. A central concern has been the corporate bias in CSR studies, particularly with respect to how social and ethical concerns are employed strategically to increase corporate power. Banerjee, for example, views CSR, along with corporate citizenship, as ‘ideological movements that are intended to legitimize and consolidate the power of large corporations’ (Banerjee, 2008: 51; see also Marens, 2010). CSR is hence viewed as part of an ideological movement that aims to legitimize corporate interests in a number of different spheres. Along similar lines, Hanlon and Fleming (2009) have connected CSR to a free-market ideology that seeks to usher in neo-liberal values into the social fabric of life itself. This would indicate how CSR has become adopted and integrated into a wider ideology, which assumes that free markets and privatization are self-evidently good, what Mark Fisher calls a ‘business ontology ‘—’ in which it is simply obvious that everything in society, including healthcare and education, should be run as a business’ (Fisher, 2009: 17). Here, business is viewed as an actor that functions according to the principles of the market, by which, in a Darwinian sense, the efficient firm always beats the inefficient ones.

Our analysis of the liberal communist supports and partly extends this view by examining the ways in which capitalism is reconnected to a sense of ethics and social good, even in admittedly absurd situations, as in the defence of sweatshops.

Embracing critique

The second contribution that comes out of our examination of the liberal communist is related to critique. Indeed, corporations have always been subjected to the scrutiny of media and the public. And corporations have generally responded with great seriousness. Following a series of recent studies on the nature of critique (e.g. Boltanski and Chiapello, 2005; Fleming, 2009), we suggest that critique has undergone a considerable transformation. While critique was largely seen as a potential threat that could cause significant symbolic damage, some corporations have begun making critique part of their own vocabulary, as if rendering themselves more progressive, as a socially conscious actor in the global economy. To examine this strategy more closely, we should recall that, traditionally, corporations have been known for employing two broad and partly overlapping strategies for avoiding undesired attention: risk management, and reputation management (Shamir, 2010). In risk management, corporations seek to escape crossfire by seriously considering and evaluating their more hazardous activities, both pre-emptively (by assessing potential risks beforehand) and retroactively (by minimizing or suppressing critique after the fact). In reputation management, the corporation goes to great lengths to protect or improve their brand reputation, by, for instance, donating funds to local communities, or sponsoring NGOs—in short, to engage in any activity that passes as socially responsible with the aim of rebuilding or improving their reputation.

We argue that today we can discern a third strategy, which builds on reputation management, but which is more pro-active in its nature. The distinctive difference between this strategy and previous examples is that it does not distance itself from critique. Rather it is a strategy that makes the corporation appear on the same side as social critics. They side with critics to dissociate themselves from corporations viewed as ethically irresponsible, institutional norms regarded as flawed, or even the capitalist system itself, as was the case with the founders of Ben & Jerry’s Ice Cream who actively supported the Occupy Wall Street movement.

The interest in critique that some corporations now display should not be regarded as an isolated phenomenon. It is part of a larger trend whereby mainstream culture has begun drawing inspiration from counterculture. In their book, The Rebel Sell, Joseph Heath and Andrew Potter claim that, as a result, ‘countercultural rebellion has reinvigorated consumer capitalism’ (2005: 11). Along the same lines, one could argue that corporations, by employing the expressive language of counterculture, manage to remake their image as less stiff, boring and conservative. A telling example is how Mercedes Benz recently used the iconic Alberto Korda photograph of the Argentinian rebel leader Che Guevarra—a symbol of the counterculture and anti-capitalism—to promote car sharing. The chairman of Mercedes Benz, Dieter Zetsche, presented the new initiative during an annual Consumer-Electronics show. With the photo of Che Guevarra projected in the background (and with the Mercedes Benz logo on his beret), Zetsche said that some ‘colleagues still think that car-sharing borders on communism’, after which he rhetorically responded: ‘But if that’s the case, viva la revolucion’. This PR stunt caused much controversy, and following a torrent of outrage, Mercedes parent company, Daimler, officially apologized, stating that it was ‘not condoning the life or actions of this historical figure [Che Guevarra] or the political philosophy he espoused’.

Mercedes is only one in a series of multinational corporations that have sought to reinvigorate its image through the use of countercultural or anti-capitalist rhetoric and imagery. Google, Microsoft and Apple, to name but a few corporations, are other examples. They have all become known for their unconventional cultures, modelled on anti-conformist ideals, and where the employees are not just allowed but mandated to exhibit a counter-cultural edge (Žižek, 1999; see also Frank, 1998; Ross, 2004). Even anti-capitalist sentiments now seem to be welcome in some corporations, which is indicative of how anti-capitalism has moved into the mainstream:

There is no lack of anti-capitalists today. We are even witnessing an overload of critiques of capitalism’s horrors: newspaper investigations, TV reports and best-selling books abound on companies polluting our environment, corrupt bankers who continue to get fat bonuses while their firms are saved by public money, sweatshops where children work overtime. (Žižek, 2010: 87)

But the critique of capitalism that is at stake here is not one that threatens the capitalist system. On the contrary, some would argue that it is precisely this critique that helps sustain capitalism ideologically (Cremin, 2011). In this sense we deal with a very specific kind of critique. In a series of seminars, Boltanski defined critique as an activity that ‘renders reality unacceptable’ (2011: 5). But the critique that has become popular among liberal communists is one that seeks to render (capitalist) reality, not unacceptable, but necessary. Another way to bring out the difference between the radical critique that Boltanski endorses and the reactionary critique that liberal communism supports is to say that the former seeks to destabilize capitalism by seriously challenging its foundational structure, while the latter seeks to stabilize the foundational structure of capitalism by concentrating on aberrations and isolated problems. In other words, embracing critique in the manner of the liberal communist is not to engage in a radical social criticism that seeks to transform a political system. In this sense, one may argue that a certain cynicism underlies this form of critique. By cynicism we follow Sloterdijk (1988) and later Žižek (1989) who view it as an enlightened false consciousness. This is to say, while we are well aware of the problems that corporate activities cause, we act as if we did not possess this knowledge. At first glance, this would seem to contradict the fundamental belief of the liberal communist: that capitalism is not a harmful system and that corporations, as social actors, can bring about positive change. But we then forget the practical focus, which seems to suggest that even though corporations may cause harm, it is the only practical alternative. The argument you would hear from the liberal communist is the following: that while governments just sit back and talk about structural issues without doing anything practical, corporations set ideological talk to the side and act directly and more effectively. A crucial aspect of this rhetoric lies in the portrayal of the world, and how business is seen as embedded within this world. The watchword is complexity: the world is complex; the financial system is complex; laws are complex.

It has been argued that this portrayal of late capitalism, as indeterminate and complex, is employed by corporations with the aim of legitimizing ethically dubious business activities. Here, corporations refer to the immensely difficult and constraining situations in which they often find themselves. Fleming and Zyglidopoulos (2011) have critically examined this stance. They claim that the explosion of scientific knowledge has opened up a wider space of indeterminacy, which has allowed corporations to be less, rather than more, transparent. This indeterminacy is perhaps nowhere more obvious than in the field of CSR, both in its theoretical conceptualization and practical application. Theoretically, there is no way to arrive at a consensus over the meaning of the term, or what it would imply. An interesting interpretation of this inability to arrive at any mutual consensus is offered by Sabadoz (2011), who reads the indeterminate and ambiguous nature of CSR through Derrida’s concept of supplement. From this perspective it is suggested that the ambiguity is a necessary condition for retaining its functional role for corporate profit-maximization. This suggests that CSR, just like capitalism, has a malleable quality, constantly taking on new forms to sustain itself. With regard to its practical application, CSR seems to remain equally slippery and open for interpretation. Shamir (2010) has offered an interesting story covering the many and often protracted legal battles over these issues, where various government bodies, NGOs and others—among them notably the UN and EU—have sought to impose legal frameworks to guarantee a minimum social engagement from corporations. These attempts, however, have been fruitless as they have routinely been suppressed by pro-business interest groups, often backed by large corporations.

To the liberal communist, critique is a vital rhetorical device that is employed to reinvigorate the image of corporations, not to challenge the structural conditions of late-capitalism. It is a form of mentality that dissociates them from the unpopular image of a slow bureaucrat. It displays a modern attitude and an awareness of the condition of the planet. Engaging in this form of social criticism, however shallow and insincere it may be, has a particularly important role in attracting young, ‘talented’ knowledge workers, who feel ill at ease with large corporations and their ‘lack of moral consciousness’. Considering some of the most popular employers today, especially those which have become popular among an otherwise alienated youth, we find elaborate programs of CSR (Fleming and Jones, 2013). This is the function that CSR plays inside the corporation. But it is also a way to respond to the wider disenchantment with the usually tenuous employment relationships. Corporations such as Google have established a reputation for offering to their employees what the welfare state in some countries could once offer its citizens: security, belonging, food, daycare, etc. This is not just pointing to the corporation taking over some of the services previously supplied by the state, but also an ideological shift whereby the corporation becomes un-corporatized; distanced, as it were, from the ruthless corporation, which, in its submission to the laws of the market and the logic of capitalism, could not see beyond growth, surplus, rationalization, and marketization.

It is precisely against this background of ‘capitalism in crisis’, that we suggest that the liberal communist should be considered. Rather than seeking to avoid criticism, as it has primarily done in the past, many corporations have now, under the guidance of liberal communists, become proactively engaged in social and political critique—which, perhaps, is the most cunning way to evade criticism.

Conclusion

In this article we have introduced Žižek’s notion of the liberal communist to current CSR debates. On the one hand, the liberal communist seems to offer a way forward, both in terms of suggesting creative ways to address social and political injustices resulting from capitalism, and in terms of finding creative solutions to addressing environmental issues arising from corporate exploitation. The liberal communist sternly believes that capital accumulation together with compound growth and corporate power should not be curbed. The problem, rather, is that the free markets and large businesses have not been extended enough so that everyone can benefit from their activities, especially today’s excluded poor. On the other hand—and this is Žižek’s main argument—the liberal communist is forming part with an ideology that extends and deepens, rather than counters, the systemic crisis of capitalism itself.

In our attempt to popularize Žižek’s portrayal of the liberal communist, we began this article by teasing out three main points—all of which, we argue, can be seen as corresponding to recurring themes in dominant approaches to CSR. The first notable feature of the liberal communist is the belief that there is no inherent contradiction within capitalism or capital accumulation (Harvey, 2011). This means that we can have the global capitalist cake and eat it too (Žižek, 2008). Although critical scholarship on CSR abounds, there have been few attempts to challenge the underlying neo-liberal values often driving these arguments forward. We suggest that this view is ideological in the precise sense that it fails to recognize the tensions, contradictions and inherent antagonisms that are located at the heart of discourses of CSR. The second point we have raised is that the liberal communist foregrounds what they regard as practical and concrete problems that need to be corrected. While these issues might be worthwhile subjects of inquiry, they also tend to shift focus away from the more systemic risks associated with corporate activities. The third point concerns the discourse of ‘smart’ and ‘cool’ and how the liberal communist endorses dynamic, flexible and nomadic values rather than centralized bureaucracy and old-style authority. We have sought to extend this theme by connecting it to a new spirit of capitalism, where also forms of social and political critique are mobilized and used for corporate advantage.

Considering these three points allow us to tease out the ideological character of much of the current debates on CSR. It suggests that the naturalization of CSR, as combining the interest of businesses with that of the wider public, suppresses questions of the nature of the corporation and the systemic damage the latter may have committed, also, or particularly, in their more daily functioning. In addition, it suggests that current discourses of CSR mobilize or co-opt forms of social critique to their own end.

We have argued that what the liberal communist primarily responds to is the crisis of capitalism. Loud voices have been raised against corporate interests and capital accumulation. Increasing wealth gaps, the financial collapse, bailouts, bonuses and many other issues have triggered a widespread embitterment against corporate power and even capitalism itself—which has been illustrated by the recent protests around the world, most notably ‘Occupy Wall Street’ and ‘Occupy London’. What we suggest, here, is that former critical responses to corporate power are now being proactively employed in order to evade this criticism of capitalism.

Our analysis of the liberal communist also draws attention to the malleability of CSR and the multiple ways in which corporations have employed this term. But more importantly for our purpose has been to demonstrate how CSR can be proactively used as a form of recuperating critique and making it into a source for reinvigoration. While many corporations may have witnessed the unfolding unrest around the world with a twitch of anxiety, others, like Ben & Jerry’s, viewed these protests as an unprecedented opportunity to absorb the critical vibe of young activists in order to corporatize their ideas and to stimulate innovative impetus.

Considering CSR á la the liberal communist raises a number of important questions—questions that could hopefully inspire future research on the subject. The first set of questions would concern the relation between the corporation and its context—that is, capitalism. This suggests that scholars need to go back to questions which used to be more present in the discourse of CSR, including the relationship between neo-liberalism and corporate power; the relationship between systemic aspects of capitalism and what passes for social values; the ideological aspect of CSR and practice. The second set of questions would involve studying the transformation of CSR alongside the emergence of a new spirit of capitalism. Such a study would highlight questions of recuperation, but also how corporations engage in critique with the intention of plundering the social, informal bodies that have traditionally been formed outside the realm of corporate domination.