THE PHENOMENON OF CRACKPOT REALISM

Information forms the basis of every decision. It helps us to view situations or things as objectively as possible from various angles, thereby potentially arriving at an ideal assessment. We live in an age where information as a resource is abundant; indeed, we are positively inundated with it. Whether through classical media such as radio or television, or more recently through social media, information is available at any time and anywhere. Even though the abundance of available information includes poor information (for example, false information), our information age is nonetheless characterised by an unprecedented quantity of high-quality information. One might think that this wealth of information would enable decisions to be made more rationally or objectively. However, this is not the case.

At the political level, decisions are still shaped by narratives and ideologies, though this need not always be immediately apparent. The sociologist Charles Wright Mills coined the term crackpot realism to describe this phenomenon precisely: political decisions that may appear rational, yet are marked by short-sightedness, leading to unforeseen interactions or negative long-term consequences. This short-sightedness cannot be explained causally, yet decisions appear rational when they fit within the basic assumptions and reality of a social order. Accordingly, the term can be translated meaningfully as reality-blind pragmatism, a formulation that deliberately provokes by underscoring the irrational character of intentions proclaimed as realistic. Whilst the concept of crackpot realism is analytically imprecise as a category, it helps to memorably internalise the danger lurking behind the phenomenon. For when political actors confuse their own basic assumptions with reality, they act pragmatically within a given framework, defend general principles and respond to immediate challenges, yet may increasingly become unable to question the framework itself. Thus emerges a mechanical politics, whose focus shifts to the how rather than engaging with the why.

Engaging with such phenomena helps to make one's own intellectual assumptions visible and to examine them critically. In the following, we examine the concept of crackpot realism more closely. First, we explore the underlying psychosocial disposition, before then turning to its content and modes of operation.

Psychosocial Disposition

Human beings are social creatures, and few things come harder to them than prolonged isolation. This need for belonging carries a price. To belong, we adopt the thought and behaviour patterns of our surroundings, often without noticing. Our perception of reality is shaped by our society and the structures around which it develops. This gives rise to a form of thinking that German psychoanalyst Erich Fromm described as automaton thinking. The individual holds something to be true not because they have examined it in their own critical thinking process, but because it is suggested to them. Through increasing sophistication of suggestive techniques (for example, advertising or political propaganda), genuine thinking is increasingly replaced by automaton thinking, whilst the illusion of voluntary and spontaneous character of thought formation is preserved (Fromm 1961). At the aggregated societal level, this creates a phenomenon that Fromm calls the pathology of normality. At the societal level, this leads to what Fromm terms the pathology of normality. What the majority shares is deemed normal and healthy, even if it is not. That many people believe something to be correct says nothing about whether it actually is; societal consensus does not objectively reflect reality, but is shaped by it.

Within such a framework, people can tolerate contradictions without recognising or questioning them as such. Peace rhetoric coupled with simultaneous rearmament can thus appear reasonable and logical to the majority of society. George Orwell described this form of thinking in 1984 as doublethink, and Fromm adopts the term. Like automatic thinking, he counts it among pathological forms of thought because it does not test reality but protects the framework. Fromm identifies one cause as the emotional and moral development of humanity having lagged behind its technical capabilities, so that decisions are rarely made from a perspective that includes the wellbeing of all people. This psychosocial condition serves as the foundation for this analysis of Mill's concept of crackpot realism. When information and situations are predominantly shaped by the framework of social reality, pragmatic decisions that stem exclusively from one's own basic assumptions appear realistic.

The Concept Of Crackpot Realism

Mills developed the concept in the late 1950s in The Causes of World War III (1958) against the backdrop of the Cold War. Arms races and nuclear deterrence were regarded by political and military decision-makers of that era as a sober necessity. Mills counters that precisely those who understand themselves as realists have lost touch with reality. They prepare for a war with enormous effort whose consequences they neither comprehend nor seriously call into question. What appears ostensibly realistic becomes absurd, without those involved noticing it. In doing so, Mills describes less individual miscalculations than a mode of thinking that can be grasped in three characteristics. First, a particular worldview is presupposed as self-evident. In Mills's case, it is a military one, since international politics is understood at its core as a struggle for power that is won through strength or at least endured by it. Second, means (the "how") take precedence over ends (the "why"). Discussion centres on how many weapons, in what quality and at what speed are necessary, but scarcely on what all this is supposed to serve and where it leads. Third, alternatives are rejected before they are examined. Whoever questions the framework is regarded not as a conversation partner but as naive or unrealistic.

The functioning of this mode of thought connects directly to psychosocial disposition. Where people adopt the thought patterns of their environment and tolerate contradictions without noticing them, the framework itself becomes invisible. Political actors then operate within this framework consistently and often competently, yet without examining whether it holds. Crucially, the pattern reinforces itself. Every action that follows the underlying assumption simultaneously confirms it. The arms spiral is the obvious example. One side's rearmament is read by the other as evidence for its own threat assessment and answered accordingly, which in turn reinforces the first side's assumption. Each individual step is comprehensible in itself, and in sum a dynamic emerges that nobody intended and that scarcely anyone can interrupt. Crackpot realism is therefore neither malice nor stupidity on the part of those involved, but a consequence of the framework no longer being perceived as a framework. And that is precisely what makes it so difficult to recognise.

For the concept to be applicable to other cases without tipping into mere attribution, a framework is needed. Four test questions can be derived from the characteristics described:

• Is the central assumption of the policy substantiated and examined, or merely taken for granted?
• Are the objectives themselves discussed, or only the means by which they are to be achieved?
• Are dissenting positions examined on their merits, or summarily dismissed as unrealistic?
• Are interactions and long-term consequences considered, including those that contradict the underlying assumption?

These questions provide no proof, but rather indicators. If they apply to a policy, that is not yet evidence of crackpot realism, but it is reason to look more closely. Equally important is that the framework applies in all directions. It can be applied to the policies of supporters just as much as to those of critics, because resistance to a policy can also be based on unexamined fundamental assumptions.

Methodological Limits Of The Concept

As mentioned at the outset, the concept of crackpot realism is scientifically too imprecise to assess social phenomena and concrete political decisions on its own. It is therefore important at this point to clarify the limits of the term. Whilst the concept, on the one hand, addresses significant malfunctions in a fairly memorable way, on the other hand, it can easily be misused as a tool for oversimplifying complex social effects. When a political decision fails, it is retrospectively quite simple to label it as irrational. To prevent the term from being used indiscriminately, the information available at the time must always form the basis for evaluating a decision. Generally, when using the term, care must be taken to employ verifiable and traceable criteria. Mills developed the concept against the backdrop of the Cold War, in which the geopolitical interests of the great powers were intensively aligned with narratives. The standards may correspond to the framework described above or take another form; what is essential is only that the term is not used as an empty phrase.

Further limitations of the concept emerge when examining other social science concepts and theories. Incrementalism theory (Lindblom, 1959) posits that political decisions are not shaped by grand plans, but rather that recognised problems are addressed through an interplay of small pragmatic steps and adaptation to the position thereby achieved. According to the theory, societal problems have become too complex in our age to be solved through rigid planning, which is why stepwise approximation towards a solution represents the only efficient method. This view is supported by the assumption of bounded rationality, which holds that no individual can grasp the complete functioning of society. An individual's knowledge therefore remains limited, which means they cannot make an objectively ideal decision. Instead, they make decisions that are satisfactory. Accordingly, political decisions would always be made with bounded rationality; they could not be entirely rational. This would at least diminish the force of the critique of crackpot realism, since if rational decision-making were impossible, irrationality could not be faulted. However, since Mills's critique primarily concerns his own assumption of total rationality, these aspects do not negate crackpot realism but rather help to place it correctly. Conversely, one could also argue that bounded rationality theory complements Mills's concept, at least in the sense that recognising one's own limited rationality calls for caution and deliberation. A tendency that is particularly desirable in the geopolitical context.

These reflections point to a further limitation of the concept. Crackpot realism helps to question the efficiency and direction of political positions, but not the concealed interests and power strategies of global actors. The framework that Mills describes as action-guiding can also be mere pretext for pursuing interests that contradict publicly stated objectives. In this case, a different mechanism is at work: classical realpolitik or the ruthlessness of a preponderant power that need fear no countervailing force. The problem is that the two cases are scarcely distinguishable from the outside, because whether someone believes a framework or merely pretends to believe it is rarely provable. Moreover, conviction and interest are not mutually exclusive. A framework can be believed precisely because it serves one's own interests, and it simultaneously renders those interests invisible. For application, this means that the concept should not judge the motives of actors, which cannot be observed. What matters instead is whether the framework can be examined and whether that examination takes place. The grid therefore asks about procedure, not about intention. To illustrate the concept and its limits, a case study of a political example outside the historical context in which Mills' theory emerged now follows.

Case Study: The 2003 Iraq War

The Iraq War serves as a case study because it both confirms the concept and exposes its limits. Following the procedural approach of the previous section, we therefore do not ask what the actors truly intended, but rather whether the framework of their actions was properly examined. The basic assumption itself reveals the tension. There is considerable evidence that the proclaimed objectives—the elimination of weapons of mass destruction and later the liberation of Iraq—were pretexts. Yet even under the naive assumption that the government of the United States of America (hereinafter: USA) pursued its objectives sincerely, the assumptions on which the operation rested were not sufficiently scrutinised. The claim of Iraqi weapons of mass destruction relied on intelligence assessments that scarcely disclosed existing uncertainties. United Nations inspectors found no evidence and requested more time for investigation. Yet even after the invasion, no significant stockpiles were discovered. The second assumption, that the overthrow of Saddam Hussein would trigger stable, democratic development, was little more than hope. Both assumptions were thus presupposed rather than justified.

The same pattern emerges in means and ends. The goal of "liberating" Iraq was proclaimed, yet the actual subject of planning was the means. The invasion itself was prepared in detail and with military efficiency, but the question of what should follow the fall of the governing authority remained largely open. The "how" displaced the "why" and especially the "what comes after". Dissenting positions were overlooked or dismissed. This applied to inspectors as much as to military officers who estimated a significantly higher troop requirement for occupation, to the Foreign Ministry's post-war planning and to sceptical allies. This observation permits two readings. According to the first, alternatives were rejected as unrealistic in the spirit of crackpot realism because they called the framework into question. According to the second, it is strong evidence that the objective was of such great importance to the USA that no counter-evidence could stop it. Both readings are consistent with the findings, and this is precisely where procedural logic comes into play: what matters is that the alternatives were not examined, not why.

Distinguishing consequences proves most difficult. The dissolution of the army and administration, the rise of the terrorist organisation Islamic State, regional destabilisation and Iran's gain in power were interactions that barely featured in planning. One might argue that a permanently weakened Iraq and an unstable region could even have served one's own hegemony, including the interests of allies. This thesis fits within a general perspective of hegemonic geopolitics, yet it cannot be declared unequivocally true. Conversely, it is argued that the USA apparently expected a stable, pro-European and Neo-European Iraq, and Iran emerging as the war's victor ran counter to the stated objective. It therefore seems more plausible that the consequences were not considered. The alternative interpretation cannot be entirely ruled out, and it remains the point at which the concept reaches its limit. The balance is therefore mixed. With basic assumptions, alternatives and consequences, the framework fits well. The parameters were presupposed, the means took centre stage and dissenting voices were rebuffed. Regarding the question of motives, however, the concept contributes little. The Iraq War thus demonstrates how crackpot realism can function without being the sole explanatory factor. Even if one reads the stated objective as deception, the finding remains that the proffered justification was not scrutinised either.

Assessment

Engaging with crackpot realism yields an insight that extends beyond the specific case. It concerns not only political decision-makers, but anyone seeking to form a judgement. The observation at the outset was that we live in an age of information and yet do not decide more rationally. The analysis has shown why. The quality of a decision depends not solely on how much one knows, but on whether the framework within which that knowledge is interpreted is itself examined. The example of the Iraq War makes this tangible. Information was available, including information that contradicted one's own assumptions. What mattered was that it was read within a framework that was not open to question. More knowledge would have changed little, so long as the limitations of one's own perspective were not taken into account. This applies to us as well. Whoever believes that sufficient information will lead to an objective opinion may fall prey to precisely the assumption that Mills criticises.

More important than the accumulation of knowledge is therefore awareness of one's own limitations. Only those who recognise that they think from premises they do not fully comprehend can question those premises and counteract misguided developments. This insight may be called wisdom, and it carries more weight than any amount of knowledge. It does not make politics error-free, but it urges caution, careful deliberation and openness to differing positions. Engaging with social phenomena such as this helps to make one's own thinking premises visible and to examine them critically. Thinking cannot thereby be completely freed from its premises, but one learns to recognise them as premises. And that is the first step towards overcoming them.