So in a nutshell, ambivalence is simultaneously holding two
incompatible beliefs, the uncertainty of having mixed feelings about an issue.
Ours is not the age of ambivalence, O’Connell points out: we inhabit a world of 'omniscient' politicians, of Ted Talks with a single take-home message, and of eight
clear MDGs.
Academically I’ve had some experience of this. I’m currently
doing some research into managerialism in NGOs. This is the theory and practice of
managers in development, an ideology which relies on assumptions of
development as a linear, mechanistic process of change in a technical,
scientific sense. In its most exaggerated forms, local context is abstracted
away to produce a replicable ‘recipe for action’ which can fit neatly into a
logical framework analysis. The managerialist logic is what motivates you to
write up that nice report of your development project in which you iron out all
the inconsistencies and present a clear problem-solution-implementation-success
narrative, recounted by a coherent, objective self. Managerialism in this
context is the antithesis of ambivalence.
But while certainty’s clearly useful when attempting to make
and justify decisions, it can also be extremely problematic for thinking about
development. Suppressing ambivalence and constructing a single narrative (of a
project for instance) can reduce reality to a single set of ‘truths,’
preventing political engagement and contestation, and favouring the opinions of
some as more legitimate than others. But not only is this approach dangerous in
its implications, it is misguided in itself, as it fundamentally misrepresents
human experience, of which ambivalence is a inherent feature, as O’Connell
points out. In fact one thing I am certain of is that people are hopeless
psychological bundles of mutually contradictory and illogical thoughts and
opinions. This misrepresentation in turn means that the given development
project is unlikely to produce successful outcomes, addressing as it does only
part of reality.
And in my own personal case, too, I’ve felt the conflict
between ambivalence and certainty quite strongly. Up to the last couple of
years, I have unintentionally but systematically avoided firm opinions on issues
short of the most obvious, especially in domestic politics. My strategy, which
my friends/siblings/ex-girlfriends may recognise, has been either to say ‘I don’t
know’ when pushed on something, or, if I know something about it, argue
fervently against whatever my interlocutor is proposing. Often I’ve literally produced
a counter-argument and immediately realised that I don’t actually believe what
I’m saying. Some of the time I even have the good humour to admit it. Anyway
more recently I’ve decided that facetiously sitting on the fence is not all
that productive politics-wise so I’ve been doing things like reading and
thinking and writing a blog to try to trace some lines in the sand. But I do
get the sense sometimes I’m just arming myself with facts and arguments to
shield myself with dogma (even progressive, internationalist, statistics-based
dogma) and hide my own ambivalence.
So fittingly I’m not going to come to a conclusion, even one
simply arguing for ambivalence. Perhaps proposing ambivalence as a guide when
thinking about politics is just a dressed-up defence of ignorance and lack of
reflection. But certainly in the narrow context of development policymakers and
particularly NGOs constantly searching for results, legitimacy and
funding, to recognise the inevitable plurality of potential opinions on even
the apparently most certain of facts, will allow them to be more flexible in
their offering and to de-centre themselves in the development process.
As O’Connell neatly ends his talk, “Have the courage of your
own ambivalence”.
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