Deconstructing Decision

Thomas Bay
Stockholm University
Unpublished Review Article, written in 1994

Conflict and Consensus: A General Theory of Collective Decisions, Serge

Moscovici & Willem Doise. London: Sage, 1994. 214 pp. ISBN 0-8039-8456-1.

The subject of this book is one simple, basic fact of community life: consensus,
necessary when people seek to associate together, act in concert and make
decisions. This is the opening line of a text written by two social psychologists, or
perhaps one should rather refer to them as "social biologists", since social
psychology is in the same category as biology (p. 171). Indeed, the text leans
heavily on a large number of experimental data produced under laboratoryresembling conditions. On the face of it, these authors do not, as they repeatedly
remark, indulge in a mere play on words. For that reason, I am focusing on when
they do; when they do play on words, play with words, and perhaps even more
interesting, when the wordswith or without the authors' knowledgeplay with,
that is, speak through them. Thus, in what follows, I am not writing anything that
the authors themselves have not already written, although they might want to
argue to the contrary. I intend taking you on a brief wandering along the
conceptual routes/roots running through (this social necessity named) consensus,
and, at once, make a few detours into some of its etymological co-texts. Put
differently, I will attempt toplayfullyshake, that is, discuss (from the Latin
discutere, dash to pieces, disperse, dispel; formed on dis-, twice, double, apart and
quatere, shake, strike) the theory of decision and consensus proposed by the
authors, therewith setting it in motion, letting it drift with the intertextual currents
permeating it. Since to write is to walk on a pavement of citations (Olsson, 1991),
let me pave the way to the text in question by showing you a glimpse of some of its
more noteworthy site(ation)s.
The context, or, better, the real life situation (p. 77) in which the authors'
conjectures are put forth, is a society in continuous transformation alteration
eruption. Hence, individuals as well as groups more often than not tend to find
themselves in rather dramatic social situations which create disagreements and
differences, provoke dissent and cut of social bonds. There are only three

authorities, according to the authors, that can resolve discord and put an end to
dissension by a choice acceptable to everyone involved: tradition, science and
consensus. Now, since people no longer neither respect the rules of tradition nor
trust the authority of scientific truths to provide instructions for or guide their
future actions and decisions, the only alternative left would be to seek consensus.
Consensus can thus be said to substitute for both tradition and science as the
ultimate [authority] to hold good and answer the need for individuals and groups
to make decisions, to resolve their arguments, to demarcate what is permitted and
what is forbidden [C]onsensus explores various conflicting viewpoints and
possibilities, focuses them, and directs them towards an entente that all
acknowledge. (p. 1)
The authors further advance this line of reasoning by proposing a general theory of
decision-making that leads to consensus. They take as point of departure for their
project two (taken-for-granted) classical postulates of decision-making relating to
consensus, which they, accordingly, intend to rewrite. The first of these classical
postulates claims that consensus is better arrived at if it is based on very precise
information regarding its purpose and if very many people are involved in
discussing it. In other words, the choices of a group will have more chance of being
rational if it has assembled an optimum amount of knowledge which it has
carefully examined. (p. 5) The second supposition states that [t]he normal
tendency in a consensus is to arrive at a compromise. The two words are so often
used in conjunction that they have become synonymous. In other words,
differences between individuals are assumed to be settled by concessions that draw
them nearer to the mean point between their positions and distance them from
extremes. (p. 6)
Convinced that the best way of criticising these classical assumptions of decisionmaking is to put forward something that is new, and on a par with the old, and so
replace them (p.17); the authors begin their task. To the first postulate's rational
view on decision they make an addition which highlights the rules for dialogue and
interaction as the vehicles of choice, and as more important than the sum of
participant knowledge. [T]he emphasis will move from the competence of
individuals towards their relationships in a group. [The rewritten second postulate]
may be enunciated as follows: consensus is normally established, if nothing
hampers discussion or the exchange of views, at one of the extreme positions
preferred by the group. The group is less inclined than individuals to tone down
conflicts and avoid differences, but more disposed to devote the attention they
require to criticisms and the various viewpoints expressed. (p. 15)

Thus, conceived, the second conjecture reverses our vision of the role that falls to
consensus. Up to now emphasis has been put above all on its function as a remedy
for the deficiencies in knowledge, by highlighting it as a means of avoiding or
resolving conflicts when no process of calculation or experiment is possible. So
long as its optimum remains compromise, it is expressed by the lowest common
denominator among the opinions expressed, each one being partly right and partly
wrong, and it reflects the contrast between opposing interests and ideas without
modifying them. Here, then, is the point where polarization introduces a
difference. It proposes consensus as a means, and even a method, of changing the
norms and rules of collective life. Its function is not to eliminate tensions or
preserve an equilibrium between opposing propositions, but, on the contrary, to let
them modify one another with the least amount of virulence, until a common
element arises among them. Discord, far from representing failure or resistance, in
the event, is the most valuable lever of change. (p. 16)
Thus, the outcome of this process is not so much to reduce the differences between
points of view in order to make them conform to a single one but rather to clarify
them and integrate them on a higher level, after which the members of a group see
the problem in a different light. They rank the alternatives on a different scale, that
of the group in which they are participating and in which they feel involved. It is no
mere play on words to assert that the decision has the effect of transforming the
representations of each individual into a social representation, which is the
common basis sought after. The work of decision is started in order to transform
representations that appear distinct from one another into one shared
representation that corresponds to them. It brings to the surface and explains the
complete set of categories, judgements, value hierarchies and knowledge of which
individuals were the repository of, and which each one thought he alone possessed.
It is thus an effort of mutual recognition through that very consensus which
henceforth is common to them all. It associates them, in some way, in a moral and
intellectual compact. (pp. 173-174)
To boil the text down even further, I suggest that it should be understood as an
economy of two opposite forces, as a play between two forces: consensus, a general
agreement or concord (from the Latin consens, which stems from consentire,
consent, formed on con-, together, in combination or union and sentire, feel); and
(its indecisive other) dissensus (dissent, from the Latin dissentire, to withhold
assent or consent, disagree, differ, formed on dis-, apart, asunder and sentire, feel).
The two forces encounter each other, and thus make their appearance, in the
overlapping forms of discussion and participation. This image can be further

animated by in-scribing these forces in the text and de-scribe their play. The theory
of decision-making is a theory of rational consensus when, in fact there is a
dissensus (p. 122). The forms in which they operate, and express themselves are
on the one hand discussion, the one factor in decision which we know to be the
most constant and the most general (p. 79), and on the other participation, since
[a]cts of decisions, as well as acts of consenting, are above all acts of participation.
(p. 47) Hence it is for this economy (from the Greek oikonomia, derived from
oikonomos, manager of a household, formed on oikos, house and nomos,
managing), this play of forces that the authors develop a theory of decisionmaking that leads to consensus. (p. 15) In other words, they design a strategy with
which it would be possible to come to terms with, that is, control and utilise dissent
as a means to an end, that is, consensus. Now, let us, in order to approach its secret
place of lability, try to shake and bring into play the conceptual structures or terms
of this decisive strategy; of this space of inscription (Gasch, 1986), or what I shall
call decision, in which heterogeneous possibilities (of constructing the social
world) are arranged.
To continue this search into the economy of decision and, hopefully, create the
proper feeling of homeliness necessary for the forthcoming discussion, it might be
worth while adding to this economical image the often used metaphor of the oikos
or house. The house of consensus, or, rather the bricks with which it is built are
made out of two ingredients; dissent, that is, discord and disagreement; and
conflict (to encounter in arms, struggle; from the Latin conflictus, stems from
confligere, formed on con-, together and fligere, strike). Indeed, without building
material no building; therefore differences must not be stifled and conflicts
repressed, but should be left to develop. (p. 76) Now all that is needed to get the
job done is a suitable set of tools. For one thing, what is absolutely essential is
participation (to take part, from the Latin participare, formed on parti-, pars, part
and cip-, weakened form of cap-, of capere, take), since to be is to participate (p.
50). For another, the institution of discussion, the emblem of consensus. (p. 57)
To be sure, the house of consensus could not be erected without the means of
participation and discussion. The essential factor is one of difference, whether in
points of view or of ability to argue, and in the system of knowledge or positions
within a group. Just as a heat machine needs a hot source and a cold one, so the
range of difference sparks off discussion, feeds opposition and stimulates
controversy by inciting everyone to participate. (p. 78)
But as everyone who has tried knows, a house is not built by just piling up bricks,
one on top of the other; even the most moderate discussion, the slightest discord

would expose it to danger, make it tremble and, if it comes to the worst, shake it to
pieces. If the authors were to evaluate this house, they would probably categorise it
as a house of compromise and, accordingly, as not being up to the required
standard (compromise, a joint agreement to abide by a decision, coming to terms
by concessions on both sides; but it could mean also an endangering of reputation,
an

exposure to danger,

suspicion;

from the Latin

compromissum,

of

compromittere, consent to arbitration, formed on con- , together and promittere,

promise). [T]he propensity to compromise smoothes over differences,
suppresses excesses in interests and ideas, discourages eccentric behaviour, and in
brief ensures that social life is lived without clashes. (p. 27) What is needed in
order to con-solidate the building and thereby keeping the bricks in place, creating
space between them, making the house draught proof, is some kind of cement. The
only cement or joints capable of holding the house of consensus together would be
a composition of harmony (from the Greek harmonia, joint, agreement, concord,
formed on harmozein, join or fit together). The common elements of this cement
or joint belong to the order of values and norms. (p. 96) By recognising the
importance of this social adhesive, one is also acknowledging the place of values in
a world of information (p. 122), the essence, or, better, "sense" of both con-sensus
and dis-sensus.
The house of consensus is not just any ordinary house; it is a forge, a smithy, a
place for forming a consensus. (p. 1); and for the preparation of a decision the
definition of choice alternatives (p. 171), that is, a place for decision-making.
Hence the next step will be to take a closer look at the forge itself, at the qualities
of the space within which these decisions are shaped (p. 122), at the processing of
in-formation (information, from the Latin informare, to shape, give form to). Put
differently, the time has come to intimately scrutinise the concept of decision. In
colloquial language, to decide would be to determine or settle a question,
controversy or struggle, often by giving victory to one side, or to one out of two or
more alternatives. This notion of decision coincides with the Latin decisio, a
cutting off (from decidere, to cut off, determine, formed on de-, from, of, down
from, away from, aside, off and cdere, cut). To decide is thus to establish an
agreement by separating a choice from its alternatives, to create order through
cutting off and getting rid of the conflicting choices, to identify an ensemble by
excluding the dissidents.
Now, since choicethe act of choosing or selecting, of taking preferenceis the
source of consensus (p. 3) and a decision, as cited above, is prepared through
defining a number of choice alternatives, the etymology of the verb "choose" may

provide an entrance into the smithy where decisions are forged and consensus
formed. The genealogical threads of "choosing" can be followed through the Old
English ceosan, the Old Saxon kiosan, back to its Indo-European base geus-, gaus, gus-, which is represented also by the Latin gustare, taste, the Greek geuein, give
a taste of, the Sanskrit justus, favour, satisfaction and jusate, enjoy. What this
genealogy might suggest is that not only does a decision eventually cut off all other
possible or potential options hammered upon at the (con)sensual blacksmith's
anvil, but its intellectual or non-sensual aspects as well. This feeling of belonging to
a collective "we", based upon an ensemble of shared values, displaces, that is,
eliminates and takes the place of argumentative knowledge and disputable
information. This is not to say that from now on thinking and reason are ruled out,
rather (consensual) reason is now, as Plato might have put it, to be inscribed in the
soul of the individual. It is those arguments, which appeal more to ethics and
sensibility than to reason, that carry the day (p. 78)
There is no longer any question of debatable alternatives. In their place there is an
exact vision, the overall vision arising from several individuals, which is eventually
shared as an unquestionable norm. We recognize here the consequences of the task
of decision-making, which go much further than those attributed to it: to deal with
items of information, to harmonize values, and to reconcile divergent attitudes and
interests. These are the outcomes of the links made between persons as soon as
they begin to communicate and discuss together, and, above all, to commit
themselves to a course leading to an agreement. Afterwards they feel themselves
bound by it as if it were a moral duty or a religious oath (pp. 191-192). Indeed, it
seems as if the task of decision-making [is] to overcome differences. (p. 187)
It is argued throughout the entire text that in collective decision-making, the
individual positions in a group are polarised in the direction of the predominant
values and norms in the culture to which the group belongs. If this process
continues for long enough, the consensus approximates to these values, just as a
house under construction does to the architect's plan. (p. 97) Moreover, during the
process cultural norms tend to become reinforced, individual values more extreme.
I cannot help but wonder what would be the result of an experimental discussion
(aiming at consensus) on the impossibility of consensus? I would be quite amazed
if it did not end up in a consensus-decision stating the impossibility of consensus;
that is, if this was the dominant value favoured by the participants. Be that as it
may, what we do know is that the house of consensus is built according to a plan
designed to overcome differences; and that the plan itself is predetermined by
common or shared values.

The essence of value, writes Heidegger, commenting on two aphorisms in

Nietzsche's Will to Power, lies in its being a point-of-view [Gesichtspunkt]. Value
means that upon which the eye is fixed. Value means that which is in view for a
seeing that aims at something or that, as we say, reckons upon something and
therewith must reckon with something else. Value stands in intimate relation to a
so-much, to quantity and number. [V]alue is posited at any given time by a
seeing and for a seeing. This seeing is of such a kind that it sees inasmuch as it has
seen, and that it has seen inasmuch as it has set before itself and thus posited what
is sighted, as a particular something. Value is value inasmuch as it counts. It
counts inasmuch as it is posited as that which matters. It is so posited through an
aiming at and a looking toward that which has to be reckoned upon. (Heidegger,
1977) It would seem to follow from this that in order for anything to be what it is,
its differing others, its divergent alternatives, have to be excluded. As a
consequence, that which is not (dissensus) in what is (consensus) only serves to
posit and reinforce what matters or counts, and can subsequently be excluded from
the view. A point-of-view is just one out of countless point-of-views; no wonder
then that [t]o arrive at a consensus, one has to reach wider convictions, as do
religions and social movements. (pp. 185-186)
Returning to the forge, let us take a closer look at the undecidable and hence
disposed (of) decision material deriving from the process of decision-making
(dispose is understood here as both to organise, arrange, decide and to put away,
get rid of, from the Latin disponere, place, set in order, settle, formed on dis-,
apart, asunder and ponere, place). The archaic Greek concept krineinto decide,
separate, judge, choosecorresponds to the Latin decidere (to decide, cut off).
From krinein derives furthermore the notion of krisis, which apart from connoting
a decision or judgement simultaneously signifies a turning-point (especially of a
disease), that is, a crisis. This crisis hence indicates some kind of turning-point,
condition of instability, lability or lack within the notion of decision.
This has some rather inter-esting (from the Latin interesse, differ, be of
importance, formed on inter-, between and esse, be)differing and deferring
consequences for the process of decision-making. Instead of simply referring to its
hitherto privileged meaning and function as a decisive cutting off, a final settling of
a question, or a de-termining of a problem, it at once holds something in reserve,
something which, so to speak, postpones the decision; delays it at the turningpoint, hinders it from transcending; disposes what supposedly was removed
through the (de)scission. This repressed trait of decision-making, the intrinsic
instability, lability or crisis, is grafted onto the name of decision, inscribed within

it. Hence a decision is no longer a decision in the conventional, irrevocable sense;

although cut off from its alternatives it still reserves them as possibilities. Decision
not only holds the social world together by cutting off conflicting possibilities, it at
once divides or splits this world by adding itself to it in the form of a crisis; or as
a(n anagram:) risk (the Swedish word for crisis is kris). Indeed, to de-termine,
delimit or organise the incessant play of meaning within the concept of decision is
a venturous game; not foolish or irrational though, since to take risks in our
Western culture constitutes a higher value. (p. 134)
To make a decision is to hedge against the permanent risk of a crisis within the
violent institution of meaning; it is an insurance against the lability of consensus.
However, an insurance does not hinder the harmonious joints in the walls of the
house of consensus from cracking, or, if it comes to the worst, breaking down
before the breath of an earthquake. Rather an insurance replaces consensus with a
decisive value, that is, an assuring decision adds an adequate equivalent which
takes the place of consensus. Decision is that dangerous supplement that breaks
into the very thing that would have liked to do without it yet lets itself at once be
breached, roughed up, fulfilled, and replaced (Derrida, 1981). This substitution is
made possible through the double character of decision-making; as neither (both)
a cutting off nor (and) a bringing together, that is, simultaneously either a
separation or a joining. Thus, it is not a question of either a bringing together
(consensus) or a splitting apart (dissensus) but of decision. A decision which
moreover is doubled or split in itself; which is decided by its own undecidability, its
fundamental crisis. Put differently, decision is neither dissent nor consent, that is,
at once either discord or agreement. It would seem to follow from all this that it is
the condition of instability within the concept of decision itself which orders the
play of separating and joining in the social world, not, as the authors contend, a
value-based consensus.
The authors argue that consent, an agreement has a particular quality, of
paramount interest: that of fixing the contours of reality (p. 189). They also state
that they have confirmation of the power of social and cognitive conflicts to
transform the representation of individuals into an overall social representation
during the process of decision-making. (p. 184) In other words, social realities are
constructed and instituted through a dialectical decision-making process in which
individual discord and conflict (i.e. dissensus) are contrasted with collective
agreement and harmony, and then synthesised into a polarized consensus around
a dominant value (p. 182); social realities are dialectically deduced from a
presumed unity of value, anterior to the schism between differing choices.

However, as I have tried to demonstrate in this review, there is simply no such

thing as a harmonious unity of value, a common ground on which a consensus
could be based. It matters little if the authors argue that they have written a book
which attempts to reinstate the truth (p. 18); in which, ideally, every word rings
true (p. 50); in which they know, with sure, mathematical knowledge (p. 66) that
certain things exist, et cetera. Neither does it seem very convincing to argue for the
importance of participation in the decision-making process, for acting in concert,
nor for the significance of a conflicting discussion leading to a culturally shared
value of some sort; since at the heart of participation one finds division (to part,
from the Latin partire, divide into parts, put or go asunder, depart); since, even
though the etymologists find it improbable, concert (from the Italian concertare,
unite, bring into agreement or harmony) could be identical with the Latin
concertare, to contend or dispute; since to share (developed from the Old English
scearu, cutting, division, derivative of the Germanic skar, sker, to cut, divide) has
the double meaning of dividing and sharing/distributing. Any ensemble which
posits itself as the reality, the inner meaning, as a totality, the highest value, the
last source, the origin, a consensus, et cetera; that is, as a true presence, is already
fissured and delayed by a primordial diffrance, as Derrida may have written. All
which is left to be confirmed in consensus is the play of decision, the nongrounded,
critical faculty of decision-making to at once either construct or destruct social
worlds. Henceforth consensus is no longer in control, or to paraphrase Sigmund
Freud; consensus is no longer master in its own house.
If I have accomplished anything at all in this review, which would be a rather risky
assertion to make at this point, I hope to have grafted into the act of decisionmaking a critical momentum which, if allowed to develop, could turn out to be
both theoretically and practically useful. It could of course be argued that now at
last I am saying something, that finally I have put my finger on the poodle's kernel:
the cleavage between theory and practice on the one hand, and between different
disciplines on the other. In this picture, I would probably find myself on the
theoretical side of the abyss, playing with words, misinformed of the disciplinary
rules of social psychology, unaware of the practical goings-on at the other side. I do
not feel at all uncomfortable with this image, since it is true that I am not a social
psychologist, nor have I tried to describe the real life of decision-making, or, if you
like, social inter-activity in general. Nevertheless, this is no reason to dismiss the
influence and importance of language upon all sorts of (inter)action, that is, not
only between people, but between our thoughts and reality. Rather to the contrary,
for any kind of dialogue to arise the detour through language is inevitable (the

Greek dialogos is formed on dia-, apart, through and logos, word). I am not saying
that there is nothing outside of language; I am rather saying that there is neither
thought nor action without language.
This indeed poses a problem. A text such as the one being reviewed hererelying
completely on several descriptions of supportive laboratory experiments,
constantly referring to precise facts, and to neutral information regarding
objective reality (p. 94), taking the meaning of words and concepts for granted
will inevitably lose much of both its theoretical edge and imaginary power (and
thereby its credibility!) if it does not recognise language beyond its function as a
neutral means of transporting meanings and perceptions. In short, social
psychology seems to be enclosed within, or enframed by a theoretical discourse
which it unwillingly recognises or reframes. Maybe all it takes is for social
psychologists, such as the authors in question, to start playing around with their
own philosophical perspective, deliberately opening up their writings to
intertextual influences from other, more extreme thinkers. If they do, perchance
they will revaluate the value of consensus; and, conceivably also the value of a
compromise, in which each person sacrifices fragments of his own conviction,
facets of his own reality gives up a degree of individuality in order to seek an
understanding and vision in which all can share. (p. 7) Perhapsin want of a safe
ground for a consensual alternativewe must settle for just that; a (com)promise.
Finally, a few words on strategy. The authors proclaim that the psychological law
on which we can rely with every confidence is that people are all the more disposed
to compromise when their attention is diverted from the problem to be solved,
turning it away from the ends to the means. (p. 142) Analogously, if the authors
want the readers to buy their message, to uncompromisingly accept their theories,
they must see to that the readers' attention stick close to the text's topic or theme,
that is, to consensus and decision-making. But again, if a text is not only a matter
of what is said but also of how what is said, of the enframing of whatness, of the
compromises that have to be made when, in order to get the meaning right,
choosing the proper words and so on; what then happens to the message received
by the reader? Does it not risk getting astray among its alternatives; risk being
taken for a means?
It therefore appears not only strategically accurate but necessary to propose
consensus as both a means and a method (p. 16) andsince a decision [leads] to
consensus (pp. 14, 124)the aim or outcome of a decision. The concept of
consensus is hence employed by the authors as both the end and the means to this
end. Thusly put, consensus seems to confuse or intertwine means and ends,

10

presenting one as the other and vice versa, and, as if this was not enough, it
scandalously (since self-referentiality usually is considered to be scandalous)
engender itself. Self-reference is the name of this tabooed game, or system of
ordering and regulation, which the authors play with their readers. But the readers
are beginning to learn to see how this game is played; they are beginning to see
how messages are delivered, see how meaning is constituted. Learning to see, as I
understand it, is almost what is called in unphilosophical language strong willpower: the essence of it is precisely not to will, the ability to defer decision.
(Nietzsche, 1968)

References
Derrida, Jacques (1981/1972) Dissemination. Chicago: The University of Chicago
Press.
Gasch, Rodolphe (1986) The Tain of the Mirror: Derrida and the Philosophy of
Reflection. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.
Heidegger, Martin (1977/1952) The Word of Nietzsche: "God Is Dead", in The
Question Concerning Technology and Other Essays. New York: Harper & Row.
Nietzsche, Friedrich (1968/1889) Twilight of the Idols, in Twilight of the
Idols/The Anti-Christ. London: Penguin Books.
Olsson, Gunnar (1991) Lines of Power/Limits of Language. Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press.

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