Moral Efficacy: A Response to Richard

Richard responded to my previous post. Here is my response to his response.

First of all, I wholeheartedly agree that any given society will not abandon the State. In fact, I, too, would not advocate anarchy; as a libertarian, I support limited government. In addition, I do not blame those who pursue politics for creating political power; I blame them for perpetuating it.

Secondly, it is true that even if we lived in a libertarian society, life would not be free from evil (Genesis 3 reminds us of that). It is also true that the evils we do to one another need to be judged (or arbitrated) by a third party, which in most societies is the State. The main difference between libertarians and both the contemparary Left and Right stems from the former's belief that such disputes be handled through a posteriori litigation, rather than a priori regulation. In a world in which most disputes were handled through a (limited) judicial system, we would have considerably less need for campaigns, elections, and other formal political activity.

In terms of your examples regarding pollution and accounting fraud, I'm afraid those are two conceptually different episodes. If a power company emits excessive pollution, then that violates one's property rights (the right not to have one's body harmed by another party); I wholeheartedly agree that one should have the right to sue a power company for damage to his/her body.

In terms of accounting fraud on the order of Enron, WorldCom, etc., those immediately affected (e.g., stockholders) have the right sue. However, it is true that a person working for a different company (i.e., one not directly affected) might be laid off due to the economic ripple effects of such massive fraud. However, this merely shows that libertarianism is not a perfect ideology; this does not show that state action is the best answer to those suffering indirect effects. I would argue that a robust market—one that could provide new jobs—would serve the aggrieved employee best.

It appears that our disagreement stems from our different views regarding the legitimacy and efficacy of the State. Since you view the State as serving more of a useful purpose than I do, it would make sense that you do not view politics with the same level of disgust. This nevertheless ignores the almost inevitably corrupting effect of formal politics. For example, you write, "...I view this [the inability of politicians to deliver all of the goods they promise] as an incentive for people with policy expertise and political savvy to enter the public sphere. If they do not, then people who lack either the understanding of what needs to be done or the capacity to bring it about will hold the reins of power." This implies two things: (1) there are "right" people for political jobs (those with policy expertise and political savvy) and "wrong" people, and (2) we need to get those "right" people in power so they do, well, the right thing.

This puts too much of a benign, administrative gloss over political life: If only we had "good" people in office, then we would have good policies. However, we will not necessarily get good policies, no matter how politically savvy the operative, due to obstruction from opponents (e.g., see Clinton's failed attempt to create a national health care system), and those "good" people that enter the fray often turn out to be incompetent or corrupt after all. For example, many in the Left were happy when Clinton won the '92 election, but some (notably unions) were angered by his support for NAFTA. On the flip side, many fiscal conservatives were happy with Bush's election win in 2000 only to feel betrayed by his administration's massive levels of spending on both foreign and domestic policy.

In regards to your final comment: "While politics may (may) involve moral compromises, I would argue [that] true immorality is witnessing injustice, knowing how to remedy it, and doing nothing," I would partially agree. Yes, it is immoral to witness injustice and do nothing. However, I would argue that "knowing how to remedy it" does not mean state action. The state would be one of the last places I would look in order to effect efficient, effective, and morally beneficial change. For anyone looking to help others, I recommend a career in the private, non-profit sector.

Is Participation in Formal Politics Intrinsically Immoral?

During the past couple of months, I have heard two people tell me that they are interested in running for public office in the future, and I was startled to hear that. Why would anyone who wanted to maintain his/her moral fiber participate in formal, institutional politics? When I hear someone say that he/she "wants" to run for office, it is akin to hearing that person speak of a new career in fraud.

Even though I am a libertarian, I do have to admit that there is nothing intrinsically wrong with running for political office. It is logically possible for one to campaign, win, and even "serve" (an oft misused term, especially in relation to politics) without becoming corrupt or authoritarian — logically possible, but empirically unlikely. In real terms, participation in formal politics almost inevitably corrupts the moral fiber of its participants in the following ways:

1. Politics is simply power. Whether through war or the ballot box, those who want power utilize politics. (I certainly will grant that the ballot box is to be preferred over war.) Even the platitude that one is running for office in order to "help people" doesn't detract from the ultimate purpose and effect of politics: monopoly violence over others' lives.



2. Such violence makes politics distinct from other disciplines, such as business, medicine, and academia. Are not those latter disciplines full of their own versions of corruption, megalomania, and incompetence? Absolutely! However, when such evils are contained in the private sphere, they are more easily managed by market competition. As a consumer, I usually can avoid the companies, doctors, and universities with whom I disagree (or even avoid an entire industry altogether). However, while I theoretically can "choose" my political representative (though unfortunately, the political sphere does not give me many agreeable options), I cannot choose to opt of the "government industry" altogether — even if I don't vote, I still have to pay taxes and live with the system I'm given. Thus, politics is much more of "all-encompassing" (monopoly) presence, coercing, rather than requesting, my loyalty.



3. Finally, politicians with good intentions become frustrated, corrupted, or both. Candidates in (supposedly) democratic systems simply cannot deliver all (or even most) of the goods that they promise, since they often are blocked by other political actors (an illustration of how electoral campaigning almost inevitably leads to deception, whether self- or other-inflicted). Thus, said politicians (and their initial supporters) become frustrated and possibly end up making distasteful (and perhaps corrupting) compromises with their enemies in order to "get something done."

Thus, I must advise my friends, colleagues, and anyone within earshot — no matter how good their intentions — to avoid formal, institutional politics altogether. Empirically (though, I admit, not necessarily), campaigns, elections, and public "service" lead to authoritarian practices, megalomania, deception, frustration, and ultimately, the corruption of one's moral core. To run for political office is almost inevitably a Faustian bargain with little room for escape.

Napoleon Dynamite: Humanity Unbound

A friend of mine is coordinating a new Web site that will be devoted to movie reviews from a Christian perspective. He has indicated that while the reviewers would be informed and influenced by faith, he does not want the site to be contrived or to use Scripture in essentializing ways. In short, he doesn't want the site to be too preachy. In any case, I am contributing to this project, and here is a preview of the types of entries that I'll be posting. Stay tuned for news of the official launch!

When I initially recommended that we write about Napoleon Dynamite for our first set of reviews, I was half-joking. However, Paul Marchbanks, cinekklesia's coordinator, does not shy away from the bold and the cutting-edge, and he concurred (with, as far as I could surmise, a straight face). So, here goes:

I suppose that I considered my suggestion a half-joke due to the nature of the film and the response it has received among the masses. Jon Heder plays the title character, an Idaho-based teenager ostracized due to his sartorial aesthetic; fascination with fantasy and mythology; inability to express more than two or three emotions (none of which involve smiling or laughing); and oddly shaped afro. The plot is rather mundane: he befriends other ostracized teenagers (one of whom runs for school president), falls in love, and achieves some measure of dignity—nay, greatness—by the end.

What is most inspiring about Napoleon Dynamite is his seeming indifference to majority opinion. I cannot remember any moment in the film during which he dwells upon his status as an outcast; while I did not get the impression that he was oblivious to his position in the adolescent food chain, that did not seem to have any effect upon his demeanor.

In short, what Napoleon Dynamite represents is Humanity Unbound. He has no allegiance to a particular clique (even though he indicates that one of the gangs at school was interested in recruiting him for his skills with the bo staff), and he charts his own course, whether in terms of footwear (i.e., moon boots), hobbies (he demonstrates an unexpectedly high level of ability in agricultural science and a strong dedication to the art of disco), and his views on what "counts" in the realm of current events:

Last week, Japanese scientists...placed explosive detonators at the bottom of Lake Loch Ness to blow Nessie out of the water. Sir Godfrey of the Nessie Alliance summoned the help of Scotland's local wizards to cast a protective spell over the lake and its local residents and all those who seek for the peaceful existence of our underwater ally.

Napoleon is not the only figure in the movie unshackled by social norms. His cousin, Kip (Aaron Ruell), is not satisfied with adhering to any stereotypes of the slight, pale Milquetoast. He not only trains for a future in cage fighting, but he also breaks racial divides by befriending and eventually betrothing an African-American woman from Detroit. The latter is of particular interest because Kip furthers his quest in cultural experimentation by adopting an urban, hip-hop persona; like Napoleon, Kip rejects cultural essentialism, choosing to mix-and-match in the manner described by anthropologist Grant McCraken.

Ultimately, however, we must ask whether Napoleon Dynamite presents a prescriptive message. We see Napoleon and Kip charting bold symbolic territory, but do they invite us along? Are we to eschew social convention and to unbind ourselves from the cliques that stifle creative freedom?

Well...only if we want to. Napoleon doesn't evangelize his lifestyle; he "leads" by example, and his message is inadvertent. He doesn't advocate that others adopt "alternative" interests, nor does he try to get others involved in his particular hobbies. If we are as culturally bold as he, then so be it; if we, too, adopt his hobbies, then all the better. For instance, when Napoleon's love interest, Deb (Tina Majorino), asks him about his drawing of a "liger," he is happy to elaborate: "It's pretty much my favorite animal. It's like a lion and a tiger mixed...bred for its skills in magic." However, Napoleon doesn't go out of his way to impress Deb with his hobbies; he responds when she expresses interest.

At the end of the day, Napoleon Dynamite just wants to live a full life. The world is so replete with richness that the pedestrian concerns of social conformity are not worth his time. Will we follow Napoleon's bold example and escape from our lives of quiet desperation? Napoleon, himself, won't be waiting for our answer; he's already ahead of the game, making sweet jumps on the bike of life.

Academic Taxonomy

Today, I read an excellent review of Szasz Under Fire: The Psychiatric Abolitionist Faces His Critics, edited by Jeffrey A. Schaler. (Unfortunately, the link is not yet available; see below for a bibliographic reference to the paper copy.) In short, Thomas Szasz is a maverick psychiatrist, who has spent the past four decades denouncing the psychological concept of "mental illness," arguing that it is a myth and a method of social control. He does acknowledge that diseases of the brain (neurological pathologies) exist and that one can ascertain such diseases by brain scans and other diagnostic methods. However, as with other physical illnesses, Szasz argues that the state should not coerce anyone into receiving treatment; thus, whether a patient is diagnosed with heart disease or schizophrenia, that patient should have final say regarding whether to receive treatment.

Szasz's critique of "mental illness" as a meaningless term that opens the door for state tyranny forces us to examine the taxonomies we use to describe (on a material level) human behavior.

1. On one level, we can describe human behavior biologically. For example, depression stems partially from a neurological pathology, which can be diagnosed and tested. A simple remedy for the biological side of depression is medication.



2. On another level, we can use sociology, since humans are social, as well as biological, creatures. In the case of depression, environmental factors certainly can and do play a role; for example, one who is physically isolated from others may feel lonely and may, in turn, develop depressive symptoms.



3. On yet another level, we can examine human behavior psychologically. How do we think? Do our thought patterns shape our "reality," causing us to make false assumptions or to see things that "aren't there"? Proponents of cognitive behavior therapy, for example, argue that how we think (notably, our tendency to follow "irrational" ideas) can affect us adversely.

Some of you reading this will find this extremely pedestrian. "Of course we can analyze humans using these three disciplines! This isn't new or interesting!" However, I have observed a tendency both in academia and among the general public to favor one approach at the expense of the others, ignoring the fact that humans are complicated and affected by biology, culture, and thought patterns. While lip service may be granted to human complexity, we often tend to prefer a simplistic "nature vs. nuture" dichotomy.

What ultimately surrounds biological, sociological, and psychological analyses, of course, are philosophical and theological discussions. All academic fields make assumptions about what we know and what we can know (ultimately epistemelogical questions), and all academic fields contribute data/cases/examples that can be used in philosophical and theological debates (often, debates of a moral nature). It is very important to remind ourselves constantly that not only are humans complex but that science (whether natural or social) does not answer moral questions. Scientists can and do contribute indispensible data, but they ultimately cannot tell us what is "good" or "bad," at least from within the strictures of their fields. Scientists certainly should have every right to make normative claims, but when they do, we should realize that they are speaking philosophically/theologically, and not scientifically.

Thus, I am grateful for Szasz and his followers for the following reasons:

1. They help us to clarify our understanding of neurological pathologies. An "illness" is something physical, something that one can see represented on a brain scan or in a lab result. The psychological term "mental illness" is not medical at all, but behavioral.



2. We certainly can analyze behavior through other lenses (i.e., social conditions, thought patterns), but at that point, we should not say that we are diagnosing an illness. Someone may be able to overcome depressive symptoms through cognitive behavior therapy, but that is not medicine. (One should note that conventional psychiatry today usually recommends a combination of medication and psychotherapy.)



3. While Szasz helps to clarify our thinking regarding neurological pathologies, he doesn't shy away from making philosophical (specifically, moral and ideological) statements. For example, in opposing the insanity defense, Szasz forces us to return to fundamental questions: At what point do we hold a person accountable for his/her actions? What is an appropriate punishment for a given crime? Does that punishment serve the cause of justice? These are not medical questions but philosophical/theological ones, and we would do well to know the difference.

Reference:

Sullum, Jacob. "Thomas Szasz Takes on His Critics" [Book Review]. Reason May 2005:57+.