Beyond the democratic state: anti-authoritarian interventions in democratic theory

ibid. 
47) of advocating “more 
information, more participation, more deliberation” (
ibid.
93) in the name of advancing 
democracy. While communicative and educative efforts are doubtlessly essential elements of 
any social change efforts, they stop short of enactments of collective power that might actually 
bring the change to fruition (though, as will become clear, I have sharp differences with Dean 
about the form and content of these enactments of collective power). Moreover, from Dean’s 
perspective, such claims to “democracy” – at least insofar as democracy is understood as an 
inclusive conversation – are disingenuous, “a way of avoiding the true, partisan position” 
inherent in protest. Organizers “don’t really want an inclusive conversation. They want 
organized political resistance, but they don’t say this directly, shielding themselves from taking 
responsibility for the divisiveness of politics” (
ibid.
84). In short, “ideals of inclusion and 
participation” have been accommodated by, and “capture resistance” to, neoliberal capitalism 
(
ibid.
2). Thus, a left politics in opposition to neoliberalism will need to reach beyond the 
deliberative and communicative framework – a move that, on Dean’s view, entails reaching 
beyond democracy itself.
However, Dean is wrong to reduce democracy to deliberation. After all, given that 
democracy clearly predates neoliberalism, democracy cannot 
just
be a “neoliberal fantasy,” a fact 
revitalizing the Greens or Socialists” (
ibid.
32-33). What all of these disparate tactics have in common is their 
orientation toward actions that alter power relations, rather than (primarily) seeking to deliberate or communicate. 

---

112 
that Dean clearly appreciates but doesn’t dwell on: “communicative capitalism…
repurposes
democratic ideals and aspirations in ways that strengthen and support globalized neoliberalism 
(
ibid.
17; emphasis added). If neoliberalism has repurposed democracy according to its own 
image, then perhaps democracy can be repurposed according to a different image, as well.
Though Dean (
ibid
. 35) chastises the anti-authoritarian left for abandoning the state to 
“conservative strategists,” she curiously reproduces the exact same dynamic with regard to 
democracy: she advocates that the left abandon democracy, thus allowing the left’s opponents to 
define democracy however they like. As a result, Dean sees Leninism (or some variant thereof) 
as the only viable, hard-nosed alternative to the communicative wishy-washiness that she rightly 
condemns.
Interestingly, Dean, like many of the deliberative theorists see criticizes, wrongly sees 
democracy and enactments of collective power as opposed. As an example, consider Dean’s 
analysis of Occupy Wall Street. She incisively critiques efforts to “democratize” Occupy Wall 
Street – that is, to… 
…frame the movement in terms of American electoral politics” and to advise “the 
movement to pursue any number of legislative paths, seek constitutional 
amendments to deny corporations personhood, change campaign finance laws, 
and abolish the Federal Reserve Bank (Dean 2011, 89).
Her main objection is that such a move obscures what people were actually doing: occupying 
space. In other words, “democratization skips the actual fact of occupation” (
ibid.
89). On 
Dean’s account, “occupation is not a democratic strategy” because it involves: “rejecting 
democratic institutions, breaking the law, disrupting public space, squandering public resources, 
and attempting to assert the will of a minority of vocal protesters outside of and in contradiction 
to democratic procedures” (
ibid.
90). For Dean, it seems that power and democracy are opposed 

---

113 
– actions involving the enactment of collective power are, on her view, not democratic. It is this 
contention I wish to challenge.
What if occupation could be understood as reframing our understanding of the content of 
democratization? What if those “institutions” and “procedures” are not rightly seen as 
democratic, but the practice of occupation is? What if occupation can be defended on 
democratic grounds, without watering down this undeniably “militant and divisive tactic” (
ibid.
90)? While the general assembly may be guilty of believing that the solution to our problems is 
simply “more information, more participation, more deliberation” (
ibid.
93), the occupation of 
space is not so guilty. At least one element of Occupy that made it so exciting was that the act of 
occupation was simultaneously a rejection of the idea that we just need more of the same and an 
assertion of collective power on a large-scale.
While Dean laments “the left’s withdrawal from the State” (
ibid.
35) and argues for 
“reclaiming the state as a force to be used against neoliberalism” (
ibid.
47), I argue for non-statist 
alternatives to the left’s current malaise – alternatives that, additionally, do not require that we 
abandon democracy, but instead contest and reframe what democratic practice looks like.
Whereas Dean uses her critique of deliberative democracy’s communicative fantasies in order to 
displace democracy, I take her analysis in a different direction. In particular, I argue that the 
anarchist practice of direct action can constitute the sort of political force Dean seeks, without 
reverting to a state-centric politics or abandoning a democratic normative framework. As we 
will see, however, this will require a reevaluation of democracy itself, one that foregrounds the 
concepts of action and power. In the next section, I explain the practice of direct action as it has 
evolved within the anarchist tradition, highlighting its disruptive and prefigurative capacities. In 
the subsequent sections, incorporating theorists of radical democracy and insights from 

---

114 
contemporary practitioners of direct action, I articulate the democratic potentials of direct action 
politics.