Tuesday, May 15, 2012

"Banks are special"

Everyone interested in finance is now talking about the recent announcement by JP Morgan that it somehow managed to lose $2 billion in the past six weeks. In a recent opinion article, Paul Krugman asserts that this is precisely why we need more government regulation:
Just to be clear, businessmen are human — although the lords of finance have a tendency to forget that — and they make money-losing mistakes all the time. That in itself is no reason for the government to get involved. But banks are special, because the risks they take are borne, in large part, by taxpayers and the economy as a whole. And what JPMorgan has just demonstrated is that even supposedly smart bankers must be sharply limited in the kinds of risk they’re allowed to take on. [emphasis added]
So do you now understand? Banks are special.

The beef I have with Krugman is not that I think businessmen are superior to government; far from it. No, the beef I have is that I believe, as a hopeful believer in the classical liberal tradition, that our ultimate political goal should be to create a society which is less dependent on people with power, not more dependent. Krugman either thinks there is nothing wrong with a system in which we are forced to pay for the mistakes of cocky financiers, or else he simply thinks such a system is inevitable. I refuse to accept either premise.

As libertarians constantly remind us, if big businesses will at some point inevitably screw us all over, then isn't the same true of big government?

How do we liberate ourselves from a power structure which forces the many to pay for the mistakes of a few? It seems to me we need to reexamine the purpose of law. Almost everyone in contemporary political discourse assumes that one of the major purposes of law is to prevent bad things from happening. So confident are we in our ability to control the world around us, using the incredible technological and political tools developed in the modern era, that we feel certain that someone ought to be able to steer this monstrous ship away from those icebergs. (You'd think we'd actually learn something from the Titanic.)

We need a more chastened approach to law. The purpose of the law is to administer justice. This concept is still not lost on most people. We understand that if we have been wronged, the person who has done the wrong ought to compensate us. It is not possible to change a person's motives, but we can punish bad behavior.

Sometimes, however, the question is not so much whether a person has committed any wrong, but rather who should be responsible for what happened. A man who risks his own money in a business venture has not done any wrong to anyone, and probably has good intentions. However, if the venture goes bad, then justice does not provide him any claim on anyone else's money to reimburse him. He may ask others to be merciful, of course. But is stealing from someone else in order to help this man really an act of mercy? That, in effect, is what the government does whenever it bails out failed businesses. And how much more insulting is this practice, since the businessmen being shown "mercy" hardly deserve our pity!

For this reason, the best way to constrain government is to demand from it only justice, not mercy. The purpose of government is not to "steer the boat," as it were. Its sole purpose is to arbitrate between individuals who will sometimes fall into irreconcilable conflict. Its purpose is to decide the boundaries of responsibility so that individuals aren't forced to pay for the consequences of actions to which they had no prior connection, and then to enforce those boundaries. This is clearly not a trivial task, but it is a fundamentally different task than the one demanded by a majority of the American public today. It has nothing to do with control, but only with justice.

Doubtless someone will say that mercy triumphs over justice. A fine Christian sentiment that is, but mercy can only be shown by someone with power. The vision proposed by America's founders is one in which the government is not an institution of power, but of service to the people. God can have mercy on us because he has some rightful claim on us. If we admit that the government can have mercy on us, we give government a place which only properly belongs to God! Nothing belongs to the government other than what we have given it, or what has been taken from us. What an act of mercy for government to steal from the many in order to give to the few!

Like Krugman, I believe that if government is to insure the banks against all possible failures, it ought to demand that these banks act within the bounds of reason, so that they don't harm the public. But the question is whether the government has the authority to insure the banks in this way. The question is whether anyone has the right to claim a position in society that is "too big to fail," or too important not to be supported by the public. Such a position is what used to be called privilege, before the term came to be abused in modern discourse. The American dream, in my view, was to have a society in which the notion of privilege in this sense was all but totally destroyed.

It is not possible to prevent mistakes. It is not possible to prevent evil. Regulations will only slow down the conscientious. Those who have respect for what is right and prudent will either work around such regulations or ignore them. When people speak of the need to "regulate," they have already assumed that there is such a thing as privilege. And that is a tragedy.

Rather than regulations, we simply need law. "A government of laws, and not of men," as Madison said. In the short run, laws do not prevent evil men from doing evil things, but they do give the common man the power to stand up and be compensated for the wrong done to him. One hopes that in the long run, this has the tendency to prevent evil, since at least people will seek to avoid bad consequences. But what is there to prevent a man from doing as he pleases, when he knows that he has a place of privilege in society, and someone will always pick up after his mistakes?

I don't know how to successfully reform the power structure we have mistakenly built in this great civilization of ours. All I know is what kind of direction we ought to move in. It seems to me that so-called "liberals" like Krugman have abandoned the classical liberal vision of a world without privilege. My only guess is that they have all but abandoned thinking about the long run in favor of using their technocratic abilities to help as many people as they can in the short run. We shall see what is the fruit of their bias.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Correcting assumptions about religion and science

From the Browser, which is always a great source for reading up on the latest in modern thought, I found an article called "Christianity and the rise of western science" by Peter Harrison. Excerpt:
In spite of this widespread view on the historical relations between science and religion, historians of science have long known that religious factors played a significantly positive role in the emergence and persistence of modern science in the West. Not only were many of the key figures in the rise of science individuals with sincere religious commitments, but the new approaches to nature that they pioneered were underpinned in various ways by religious assumptions.

Could modern science have arisen outside the theological matrix of Western Christendom? It is difficult to say. What can be said for certain is that it did arise in that environment, and that theological ideas underpinned some of its central assumptions. Those who argue for the incompatibility of science and religion will draw little comfort from history.

Those who have magnified more recent controversies about the relations of science and religion, and who have projected them back into historical time, simply perpetuate a historical myth. The myth of a perennial conflict between science and religion is one to which no historian of science would subscribe.
This part was really on the money:
What historical record also suggests is that insofar as modern science posits natural laws and presupposes the constancy of nature, it invokes an implicit theology. Most important of all, perhaps, religious considerations provided vital sanctions for the pursuit of scientific knowledge and, arguably, it is these that account for the positive attitudes to science which have led to the high status of science in the modern West.
And this part actually surprised me a bit:
The adoption of more literal approaches to the interpretation of the bible, usually assumed to have been an impediment to science, also had an important, in indirect, role in these deveolopments, promoting a non-symbolic and utilitarian understanding of the natural world which was conducive to the scientific approach.
The whole thing is a good read. Very little of it was stuff I didn't already know, but I realize that sometimes it's not so much how new your ideas are, it's how often they get repeated. One could take the article as a healthy antidote to misleading "New Atheist" rhetoric. On the other hand, you could also take it as an exhortation to Christians in the west to earn once more the healthy relationship with science that we once had.

Folks on all sides need to remember that religion is extremely diverse, and as a result it's hard to pin down ideas and label them correctly. Christian ideas played a role in bringing about the rise of modern science, but not all Christian ideas played the same role. All I would ask of atheists is that they admit that science comes with a certain theology--not necessarily a Christian or otherwise traditional theology, but a theology nonetheless. Likewise, I would ask Christians not to label something as outside the realm of Christian thought simply because it doesn't align with their own traditional beliefs.

What the article addresses most thoroughly is the Christian conception of nature and the relation between that conception and western science. Where I think it gets interesting is in more recent years, when, starting with Darwinian biology and continuing on with psychology and neuroscience, science begins to penetrate into questions about ourselves. No longer is science about this vast sphere of reality known as nature, with human beings attempting to be objective observers. Now human beings are studying themselves, trying to determine where we came from and by what laws we behave.

Small wonder that this creates such a great deal of tension with religion. Christianity, like many religions, is largely a story about who we are and where we came from. As modern science begins to challenge that story, it creates conflict where there was none before. It's one thing to say that time started with the big bang; that doesn't necessarily change the story about ourselves. It's quite another to say human beings have a common ancestor with other species of living things. That definitely changes the story.

Then again, it's all in how you tell it, isn't it? The Genesis account has human beings made both in the image of God and from the dust of the earth. One suggests great power and dignity, the other suggests fragility and corruptibility. Does the story modern science tells really change so much?

I don't know the answer to that, I'm just offering some space for better theological discussion. At the very least, we all need to realize that at the heart of everything we do is some sort of theology, good or bad. The false assumption that we can get by without thinking theologically at all is helped along by these great historical myths about the inherent conflict between science and religion. We'd be much better off having real theological discussions, instead of arguments in which we either assume our theology is basically correct or else pretend we don't need any.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

The Life of Julia

In case you're not up on your politics, here is the link to Obama's new gimmick:
http://www.barackobama.com/life-of-julia
And I quote:
"Take a look at how President Obama's policies help one woman over her lifetime--and how Mitt Romney would change her story."
This truly blows my mind. Is this what Americans really want? Is voting really an act of choosing which manager would be better suited to make our personal lives better, from cradle to grave? There is nothing "progressive" about this. Inculcating Americans with the idea that we can't live without the all-powerful government is not "liberal." Liberalism is supposed to be about freedom. It's supposed to be about limiting arbitrary power and unleashing the potential of the individual. What would be "progressive" is if we could truly imagine a world in which we didn't have to bring all our gifts before the altar of the state in order to make life better for ourselves and one another.

What happened to liberalism, that it now boasts of such wretched ideas? Is Barack Obama the people's monarch? Is that what we do when we vote? Are we electing our king?

Fortunately, there is at least one good response out there:
http://www.thelifeofjulia.com/

Monday, April 23, 2012

Is it really so hypothetical?

The following comment on facebook made by a pro-choicer was meant to challenge pro-lifers on their belief that the abortion really is murder:
What if there was a building in your town where they chucked two year olds into a furnace. Would you be able to go about your day in a normal fashion if you knew that was taking place? Would you shake your head and say "We need to start some grassroots organization to lobby congress to put an end to that". Would you go a period of a few days where the fact that kids were being tossed into a furnace wasn't the most pressing thought in your head? Would you solemnly condemn someone who violently attacked that establishment or the people who work there in order to stop the constant, unapologetic murder of babies that took place there every day?
My response: is it really so hypothetical? People have to live with these kinds of contradictions every day, actually. It's not like people three hundred years ago people had no idea how bad the slave trade was. It's not like Americans in the nineteenth century didn't know how awful the Trail of Tears was. It's not like Germans under the Nazi regime really thought it was okay to lock up millions of Jews in concentration camps. These things really happened, not because people were so different from you or me. They happened because normal people like you and me aren't so wonderful as we think we are. It's remarkably easy to justify evil. You'll even hear words like "freedom" used to justify these atrocities: Hitler thought Germans should "liberate" themselves from the Jews, as I'm sure American Southerners wanted to free themselves from the presence of the Cherokee Nation.

 

The simple answer to the commenter's question is, sadly, yes. Yes, I can go about my day in a "normal" way, knowing that thousands and thousands of my fellow human beings are being killed at the hands of people who probably feel justified. Yes, I do think that for now the political process and grassroots movements are probably the best means I know of for doing anything about this problem in our society. Yes, I will condemn acts of terrorism done in the name of the pro-life movement, partly because I think it's wrong to fight fire with fire (I'm not even sure the Civil War was justified for all the blood that it spilled), and partly because I think it's futile to act in this manner. If a pro-choicer really wants to understand how pro-lifers don't go insane under the mental strain of knowing what injustice is committed in the name of "freedom," well, maybe the answer is that it kind of does drive us insane. Maybe if you think about it long enough, you'll start to understand why the rhetoric gets so heated.

It's worth saying that the issue of abortion really does cross my mind every single day. Let me add that other issues also tend to drive me crazy, and I suppose the list can get awfully depressing: America's foolish and arrogant interventionist policy in foreign affairs, the death toll of both American soldiers and innocent civilians in the Middle East, the ever-increasing powers of the executive branch of government, the ability of the executive branch to now assassinate a U.S. citizen without trial, the ability of rich elites to come under the protection of the government at the expense of everyone else, the oppressive restrictions on immigrants seeking refuge in a land of bountiful resources--I could go on and on. And these are just the things that our nation is responsible for. Good Lord, if I continually reflected on the horrors committed by the many corrupt governments and criminal enterprises around the world, I don't know how I could live a single day of my life.

So why don't I go absolutely crazy and devote every minute of my life to ending abortion? Sometimes I'm not really sure, except that it's harder than you might think to stand up for justice. We like to tell ourselves we "would" stand up for justice if things "got that bad," all the while not recognizing that things are that bad. Considering how long it took the human race to get rid of slavery, and knowing that even now it still takes place (if only illegally), what makes you think we are so powerful to change things? I don't relinquish all hope, I just want to put these questions about justice in context.

When it comes to activism, I think despair is more powerful than fear. Sure, I guess you could say I would fear for my life if I truly began to express my outrage at the state of affairs in this country. But I think more so, I am held back from action simply by the despair I feel at seeing how few people really agree with me that something ought to change. Thus, I continue to work at my career like a good citizen, hoping that it will make the world a slightly better place, and knowing that if I can just block out the world's evils I really will enjoy it. I continue to enjoy my friends and family, and I continue to thank God that mankind isn't as bad as it could possibly be. We've made it this far, after all.

To sum up: don't kid yourself with such "hypothetical situations." In many ways, the world really is as bad as the worst hypothetical you can come up with. It's only because your brain can only handle so much stress at once that you choose to mostly ignore it. And I'm right there with you.

Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Walk for Life 2012

So I haven't blogged in a couple of weeks. Of course, you can always check on my daily musings on my facebook page (which is always a great forum for sound intellectual conversation). Between thesis writing and making major life decisions (turns out I'll be living in Paris next year) I guess I haven't had much time for other things. Thus, I haven't had time to get out there and ask for sponsors for the Walk for Life, which is coming up soon. You can read about how important this event is to me here. And you can see pictures from the event in 2010 here.

Check out the ChipIn page here. Or, since you're already reading my blog, why don't you just donate on this cool ChipIn gadget!




I'll have more reflections on life, the universe, and everything pretty soon, I guess. Right now I'm pretty tired, and my thoughts are pretty scattered. Mostly I'm just trying to figure out my own life, so I don't know if I'm in a very good place to figure out the world around me.

But hey, there's always time for trying to help people.

Monday, March 19, 2012

Myths of Progress

Human reason can neither predict nor deliberately shape its own future. Its advances consist in finding out where it has been wrong.  -- F. A. Hayek
It's common among some of my intellectual peers to speak of the "myth of progress," a term used disparagingly of the idea of progress made popular in Western consciousness ever since the Enlightenment era. The idea that "civilization has moved, is moving, and will move in a desirable direction" is a very easy target for intellectual criticism, because it both impacts our everyday thought and speech and is obviously false. Yet I find myself a little dissatisfied by the apparent alternatives. Indeed, in my experience there seem to be three different myths of progress, all working together, often paradoxically. Here they are:

  1. The myth of inevitable progress: the idea that whatever is newer is better. You see this a lot when it comes to technology, of course (it's actually a little sad to know how many people are willing to line up for the latest toy being released by Apple or Microsoft). But you also see it all the time when it comes to morality. On multiple occasions, for instance, I have pointed out to a friend that the 19th century feminists were pro-life. Typical response: "They lived a long time ago."
  2. The myth of progress on demand: the idea that if we want more progress, we just have to fight for it. Think of Occupy Wall Street on the left, or the "cultural warriors" on the right. Intentionally militant language is used to signify that progress is both necessary and achievable through unrelenting determination.
  3. The myth of nihilism: there is no such thing as progress, and nothing we do really changes anything in the long run. We're no better nor worse than our ancestors, we can judge no one and no one can judge us. This is, in some ways, an immature reaction to the first two, but it is also deeper than that. Reflecting on our astonishing lack of knowledge can easily lead an intellectual down the pass to despair. Perhaps we really know nothing, after all, and everything we think we know is just a narrative we tell ourselves to keep going. But this is itself a narrative we tell ourselves, and I suspect it is because we have grown weary of traveling down the arduous path of discovery.
All of these are myths, stories we tell ourselves to simplify the world. Or, perhaps, they are stories which really do capture a genuine truth about ourselves. Myths cannot be so easily dismissed as falsehoods. For a myth to become so deeply rooted in society, it must have some ring of truth to it, after all.

Nevertheless, all of these claims are demonstrably false once they are stated clearly. The myth of inevitable progress cannot stand up to the fact of two world wars, in addition to many other credible examples of moral decline. The myth of progress on demand cannot stand up to the fact that, for example, communist revolutions have largely resulted in far worse totalitarianism than anything devised by the reigning aristocracy. The myth of nihilism is equally flawed: the world really has, in a way which is simply unprecedented in history, repudiated institutions such as slavery which were finally seen for the evils that they are. And technological progress, for all of the difficulties it brings with it, really has made people healthier and more productive than ever before.

The reason all of this is important is that we as modern people thrive on the idea of progress. We place our hopes in it; we demand it; and, precisely because we love it so much, we sometimes despair of ever attaining it. It is important that intellectuals lay a proper foundation for thinking rightly about progress, a foundation that accords with both high ideals and common sense.

I began with a quote from a chapter of The Constitution of Liberty entitled, "The Common Sense of Progress." I think this essay is a fantastic read, and it's worth reading all the way through, but I think one can also distill from it a few basic principles that are worth repeating. Here they are:
  1. Progress is necessary. No, it isn't inevitable, and no, it doesn't come by simply demanding more of it, but it is what we want, and that's both natural and healthy. As Adam Smith pointed out years ago, a static society is awful for those who are least fortunate, and a regressive society even worse. The only way we can meet the needs of the many is to continue to make progress.
  2. Progress is unpredictable. Just because I think I know how to solve a problem doesn't mean I will. A much bigger point is that many problems cannot even be named, much less solved, until I solve other ones. I won't even know what further progress means until I overcome today's problems.
  3. Progress does not always satisfy. Sometimes, in solving the problems of the day, I may just wind up wishing I hadn't. But if we always knew this ahead of time, there wouldn't be any need for progress in the first place; we'd already know everything we need to.
  4. Progress is nonlinear. Just because we improve in one way doesn't mean we improve in every way. Sometimes in order to make progress in one area, we end up stagnating or even regressing in another. It is impossible to know ahead of time how this balance will play out in the long run.
  5. Progress begins locally. No innovation can immediately affect everyone, but it must undergo a refinement process which always starts with the people with enough expertise to understand the innovation. I think this even applies to moral progress: it is only through determined visionaries, who see the problems of society in a specialized way, that movements can arise to reform society.
  6. Progress is good. Even though we can't say this without qualification, it is nevertheless true that progress is good. If for no other reason than the mere satisfaction of learning something new, progress is a good thing that will always continue to attract the imagination of human beings.
Hopefully these principles are a reasonable enough baseline for thinking about progress in the modern world, so that we as intellectuals can actually say things with both confidence and realistic expectations. Nothing we do will ever result in quite the thing we wanted or expected, but that is no reason not to do it. Nothing we believe is ever invulnerable to criticism or change, but that is no reason to believe nothing. The more realistic we are in our desire for change, the more hopeful we can be that change is possible. We will never know in our lifetimes whether it was all worth it, but we can be sure that such was true also of our heroes of the past.

As for me, I would like to believe that there really is some meaning behind all of our history, civilization, and progress. If we in the modern world have trouble believing in God, then I would rather that we at least believe in something that extends beyond ourselves. And since we are so prone to believe in progress, it would help if we at least believed something true about it.

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Drug legalization: the moral argument

As I've just read in the news that Pat Robertson, of all people, has come out in favor of legalizing marijuana, I thought I would take a stab at the issue generally. There are many angles from which you could approach this issue: social, political, moral, medical, and even fiscal concerns come into the picture. While I think all of these are important, I want to stick with the moral/political side of things, because this is where our principles are really put to the test.

So here's the claim: drugs should be legalized, with certain regulations as necessary to prevent harm to those who are particularly vulnerable (such as children). Some positive arguments, as Robertson himself elucidates, include the following. First, it would reduce our prison population, saving us lots of money which we currently spend needlessly. Second, it would prevent violence in the form of "drug wars" between black market rivals or between drug dealers and police. Third, it would eliminate the rather obvious disparity in the legal system between wealthy drug users who find it easy to get away with and those in the lower class who are easy targets for police. Beyond these, legalization would probably also have a good effect on our economy, by creating more legitimate jobs, as unsavory as it might sound to most people.

Now let's deal with three objections. First, there's the paternalistic objection: shouldn't we save people from themselves? After all, drug addiction is pretty bad, and everyone hooked on drugs could use a little incentive to get off drugs. Do we really want to leave people alone while they ruin their lives, and possibly impose costs on the rest of us due to their poor health and poor decisions?

The answer to this is pretty clear: we don't need to make something illegal to help people stop doing it. On the contrary, it would probably be easier to help people quit their addictions if drug use were legal, since it would be easy for people to be out in the open about their use. If you want to be paternalistic, then let's have a compromise: instead of spending government funding on guns and prisons, let's spend it on rehab centers. Alcoholism is a real problem for many people, yet we don't arrest people for drinking. (We tried that before, it didn't turn out so well.) Or take smoking as an example: an entire industry has built up around helping people to quit, from nicotine patches to chewing gum.

A second objection has to do with law and order: aren't drug users more likely to be involved in other crimes? Well, let's weigh the moral merit of such an objection. Is it right to punish people for doing something they are going to do? Should I punish someone for using drugs because I think it will lead to violence? Again, take the issue of alcohol use. We punish people for drunk driving, but not for drinking. That's because drunk driving endangers lives, while drinking does not. But doesn't drinking lead to drunk driving? Well, in general, no. There is a pretty clear dividing line between the choice to use drugs in the privacy of your own home or private club, for example, and the choice to drive a two-ton piece of machinery down the road while intoxicated. One should not be punished because of bad associations between two distinct activities.

Thirdly, there is the following objection, related to the first two: won't legalization lead to more drug use, thereby degrading the morals of society? Some will answer this by pointing to studies that show eventual declines in drug use in countries where it has been legalized. However, let us make a more philosophical point in response to this objection. It is obvious that we cannot make illegal all things which are wrong. How can we possibly draw the line between things which should be legal and those which should be illegal?

To solve this puzzle, I propose the following test: is it peaceful? As someone with libertarian leanings, I believe that society must work first to be a peaceful society, and then we can focus on solving particular moral problems. Progress is best made through peace. When people feel coerced into abiding by a particular moral code, they tend to resent whoever assumes this moral authority over them. Within certain institutions such as the family, this can be a necessary and even healthy thing; but between existing communities of people, this is an unhealthy relationship which can only cause long-standing tension.

I have never used any drugs other than alcohol; I've never even smoked. But there really is virtue in tolerance, by which I mean permitting other people to do things you actually do not prefer. I grow increasingly discouraged that tolerance has fallen out of favor in our society; we seem to be forced to choose between endorsing or forbidding. If everything we find disgusting must be illegal, and likewise everything we make legal must be actively accepted as good, then our democracy will surely deteriorate (as it has done) into a tug of war, to which there is no end. I refuse to hold any stance on drug use other than tolerance: I think drug use is wrong, and I think it should be legal.

Simply ask yourself, do you really want men with guns locking someone away merely for possessing a substance which has certain negative effects on the human body when consumed? Does this punishment fit the crime? Perhaps a tax is a more fitting punishment; or, just maybe, the mere use of drugs is benign enough to simply be left alone, as are most activities done in private.