Rethinking Utopia and Utopianism

In the field of utopian studies, Lyman Tower Sargent is well known and respected globally. His new book, Rethinking Utopia and Utopianism, is well written, witty, and persuasively argued, reflecting on, and updating, his life’s work. It includes several previously published pieces, such as Sargent’s oft-cited “The Three Faces of Utopianism Revisited” (1994), along with his current thinking across the broad field of utopian studies.Sargent admits to naiveté when, as a young scholar in the 1960s, he set out to write a “history of utopian literature”—probably thinking it wouldn’t take long! This field, he soon found, ever expands the more one looks. Sargent continues to look for, and discover, examples from around the world—many of which he has made available online in Utopian Literature in English: An Annotated Bibliography from 1516 to the Present.1 But now, at eighty-two years of age, he accepts that this project will require “quite a few lifetimes, lifetimes that are not available to me, so I hope that others will take up these topics” (349).Sargent thinks utopianism is best understood as “social dreaming—the dreams and nightmares that concern the ways in which groups of people arrange their lives and which usually involve a radically different society” (7). Utopia, he points out, “expresses deep-seated needs, desires and hopes” (42). This, he asserts, is a universal phenomenon—part of being human—certainly not confined to the Western Christian tradition, as some scholars have argued.We must be careful, Sargent warns, not to equate utopia with perfection; utopias are about betterment, not perfection. He argues that equating utopia with perfection is a ruse employed “by those opposed to the idea that human beings can bring about significant social change and is intended to undermine that possibility” (323). Sargent argues that all humans “need the idea that a better life is possible” (325) and this is what utopianism provides.As someone who has spent much of my professional life studying intentional communities, I have always recognized that almost all such groups have an underlying utopian impulse. So I came to utopianism research as a subset of intentional communities research. Sargent, on the other hand, sees “communitarianism as a sub-category of utopianism” (85). He acknowledges that intentional community members are “trying to find better ways of living together, making decisions about all important aspects of life, whether it is political, economic, religious, or sexual. . . . They are actually doing with their own lives what literary utopias describe in words” (93). Perhaps our different paths are a bit like asking whether the chicken or egg came first?Sargent quite correctly observes that many intentional community members reject the label of “utopian” because they confuse it with the naïve, and unobtainable notion of perfection—and I have often observed the same. Nevertheless Sargent asserts “that continued utopian thinking is essential to the overcoming of the dystopian reality of . . . the last century” (178). This, he argues, is why intentional communities are important test sites for enacting utopian dreams.In discussing dystopia, Sargent points out how utopian aspirations occasionally lead to the creation of dystopias. “The hopes of communism became the dystopia of Stalinism. . . . The utopian dreams of Pol Pot became the dystopia of Kampuchea” (172). “Utopian visions from Lenin to the Taliban that purported to have the potential of producing an enhanced life have been hijacked and turned into dystopias” (175). While acknowledging that some colonization schemes, particularly for New Zealand and South Australia, had a utopian angle, nevertheless those schemes generally created dystopia for the Indigenous peoples. “The original inhabitants’” idea of the good life “inconveniently did not include having their land stolen, being enslaved, and being slaughtered” (262).That reminds us that utopianism, like beauty, lies in the eye of the beholder. Sargent offers a wonderful personal example, “my utopia would include a strong right to die” whenever and however he chooses (240). While this might seem odd to younger readers, being of a similar age to Sargent, I agree 110%. “We must choose Utopia,” Sargent concludes; “We must choose the belief that the world can be radically improved; we must dream socially; and we must allow our social dreams to affect our lives. The choice for Utopia is a choice that the world can be radically improved” (195–96). That said, Sargent sagaciously reminds us that one must never assume that one’s own utopia can or should be universally applied. We must modestly “accept that we may be wrong; that there are utopian dreams as good as, perhaps even better than ours, which means that we have to do the hard mental and emotional work of evaluating our own visions as well as those of others. Being a utopian is not easy, but that is when it is most necessary” (351).Anyone seriously interested in utopian (and communal) studies should read Rethinking Utopia and Utopianism. It will become one of the seminal texts in the broad field of utopian studies.