Scott located the emergence of high modernism in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, when the successes of scientific engineering — railroads, bridges, electrical grids, public health systems — produced a generalized confidence that the same rational methods could be applied to the design of social, agricultural, and political arrangements. The transfer was plausible but mistaken. The engineering triumphs operated on systems that were, relatively speaking, simple: a bridge is a complex artifact, but it is not a complex adaptive system. A community, a forest, a city is.
The high modernist impulse found institutional expression across the political spectrum. Soviet central planning and American urban renewal shared more than their advocates admitted: both rested on the conviction that comprehensive redesign, informed by expert knowledge, would produce outcomes superior to those generated by the organic accumulation of local decisions. The political valence differed; the epistemic structure was identical. Scott was careful to emphasize that high modernism is not inherently left-wing or right-wing. It is a technocratic sensibility that can be deployed in service of any political program.
The contemporary AI discourse is saturated with high modernist ideology in forms that Scott would recognize instantly. The regulatory framework designed by experts who have never watched what actually happens when a practitioner engages with a language model. The corporate governance strategy designed by committees that do not include the workers whose jobs will be restructured. The university policy drafted by administrators who do not sit with students struggling to determine whether their use of AI constitutes learning or its simulation. Each of these exhibits the ideology's defining feature: the conviction that the view from above is sufficient.
The connection to legibility is structural. High modernist ideology requires legible reality in order to act on it. The simplifications required to make reality legible to centralized administration are, in turn, justified by the ideology that insists the simplified representation captures everything that matters. The ideology and the legibility project reinforce each other, producing governance structures that are internally coherent and systematically blind to the conditions that determine whether their interventions will succeed or fail.
Scott developed the concept of high modernism through comparative study of twentieth-century planning catastrophes. The term itself was not original to him — it was already circulating in architectural and urban-planning discourse — but Scott gave it analytical precision by linking it to specific institutional conditions and outcomes. The account in Seeing Like a State identifies high modernism's key figures (Le Corbusier, Lenin, the Soviet agronomists, the Tanzanian planners of ujamaa villagization) and traces the pattern across contexts different enough that the pattern's persistence implicates the ideology itself rather than any local circumstance.
Sincerity, not cynicism. High modernism's danger lies in the genuine conviction of its practitioners. The Soviet agronomists believed in scientific agriculture. The urban planners believed in better cities. The sincerity is the operating condition, not an alibi.
Technocratic sensibility across ideologies. High modernism appears across the political spectrum wherever expert planning is taken as sufficient justification for overriding local knowledge — left, right, authoritarian, democratic.
Structural blindness to local knowledge. The ideology does not merely overlook practitioner expertise; it treats the practitioner's insistence on the relevance of local conditions as evidence of backwardness to be overcome through education or, failing that, coercion.
Compatibility with sophisticated science. High modernism is not anti-scientific. It is, in fact, often deployed by excellent scientists. The problem is not the science but the assumption that scientific knowledge is sufficient for governing complex systems.
Scholars have debated whether 'high modernism' is too loose a category — whether lumping together Soviet agronomy and Le Corbusier's urbanism and American highway planning obscures more than it reveals. Scott's response was pragmatic: the label is useful precisely insofar as it captures a shared structural feature across otherwise dissimilar cases. Contemporary critics of AI governance have extended the critique in ways Scott would likely have endorsed, while some defenders of comprehensive AI regulation have argued that the high modernist label is a rhetorical dodge that dismisses necessary institutional responses to genuine AI risks.