Libertarianism, Liberalism, Conservatism and the Dangers of Idealism

Reading Murray Rothbard can, in a sense, be comforting to someone with libertarian leanings.  This is because Rothbard recognizes that the libertarian view has its origins in what was called classical liberalism, and is antipathetic to authoritarianism in all its forms, theocratic, feudal, aristocratic, collectivist, mercantile.  This is comforting because Libertarianism has come to be associated with Conservatism (note the capital letters) and Conservatism, at least in these dark times, is unattractive in several respects.

This is not to say that what is now called Liberalism is particularly attractive, and certainly not when compared with classical liberalism.  Both Liberalism and Conservatism as currently practised in what remains of our great republic seem overwhelming concerned with controlling us, in one way or another, for our own good, of course.  And both seem intent on manipulating the government to do so, albeit in different ways.

Liberals have for some time thought that only government can save us from those who have the power to enslave us, and some of them appear to believe that we can only avoid this enslavement if most all aspects of our lives are regulated by the government.  Conservatives, while claiming that we must have less government, seem sometimes to feel primarily that less government means less government authority to prevent us from acceding to certain social and religious standards.  Federal government, and particularly the federal courts, should not have the power to prevent us from living as we feel appropriate, nor should it have the power to prevent us from requiring others to live as we feel appropriate, something it is believed can be achieved most readily through local government.

Rothbard notes that for those who prize liberty, there is little difference between the kind of collectivism associated with "communism" and the authoritarian government which arises through a partnership of the government with great business interests, sometimes associated with organized religion as a not very silent third partner.  This may be called fascism by some, but I hesitate to use the term as it is used so commonly these days that I'm uncertain it is meaningful in any useful sense.

I view Liberalism and Conservatism (and other things as well) as ideologies disassociated from the practical in the sense that they're dependent on certain ideals which are unquestionable, notwithstanding facts or circumstances to the contrary.  And it seems to me that the reliance on such ideals is the result, in part at least, of certain kinds of philosophical idealism.

John Dewey once gave a series of lectures at around the time of the First World War which were subsequently published under the name German Philosophy and Politics.  In those lectures he opined, with many a caveat, on the relation between German Idealism and the German Politics (and it should be said militarism) of that time.  It's an interesting read, if only because he is on occasion witty, indeed wry and sardonic at times, and at least in my reading of him this is unusual.  That it should come at the expense of German Idealism is perhaps not surprising in a pragmatist, and is in any case enjoyable to me as I'm not fond of German Idealism and the German Romanticism I think comes with it almost necessarily.

As I understand him, he sees in this idealism a kind of substitution of Divine Providence with the a priori.   Humans in a way impose on nature certain forms or categories, and these may include moral concepts such as duty.  These do not result from experience, nor do they result from God.  They are not of divine origin, but they are nonetheless supersensible, and it seems that certain German thinkers feel that Germans, whether due to their language or their unique aspects are particularly good at understanding them.  Others tend to think empirically only; they base their judgments purely on consequences or utility, for example.

Even when the a priori is claimed to be rational in some sense, viewing such knowledge or morality as distinct from what we experience--as something which experience is formed by, something which facts are to fit within as necessary--can lead to the belief that they should be controlling regardless of facts, regardless of consequences.  And therein lies the danger, as when we begin living our lives, or demanding that others live their lives, regardless of consequences according to certain unquestionable ideals which cannot be corrected or modified even if problems result in the "real world" we can be very dangerous indeed.

Making judgments based on reasonable methods shown to be successful rather than ideals, and allowing for modification of judgments based on circumstances and results, abjuring certainty, may not be inspiring or glorious, but it may be the only way we can live our lives freely, neither dominating nor dominated by others.

Santayana and the Tea-Partiers

I just completed Santayana's Character and Opinion in the United States, and was struck by what he writes regarding liberty in the final essay of that book.  He was comparing what he calls "English liberty" favorably with other conceptions of liberty, and those "other conceptions" seem disturbingly familiar in these disturbing times.

Conceptions of liberty, like most things, may be reasonable or unreasonable.  Reasonable conceptions of liberty, according to Santayana as I understand him, acknowledge limitations to liberty, because it is necessary to do so to achieve anything resembling harmony in our affairs.  X's liberty may infringe on that of Y; it may be necessary to restrict liberty in some cases to foster the common good; we shouldn't have the liberty to trample upon others, much as we may wish to do so, merely because we may do so, still less because we think we should do so.  "English liberty" which was largely the conception of liberty acknowledged by those we insist on calling the Founders of this glorious Republic, and the political system they put in place is therefore one which operates as a series of "checks and balances" on power as we were all taught, or perhaps simply told, in the happy days of our youth.

Conceptions of liberty which maintain that we all should be free to do whatever we like are unreasonable.  Too often, those who maintain this view actually mean that they should be free to do whatever they like.  It is a conception of liberty which seems essentially (and inevitably) selfish.  Santayana notes that it is often a highly romantic view, having its basis not only in self-love but in the belief that we are entitled to unlimited freedom because this is required for us to achieve some goal set either by some God or ourselves in some personal quest for glory or renown, or because this is a kind of birthright we have merely by being humans (or better humans than others).  It is the conception of liberty peculiar to the martyr, the madman and the criminal according to Santayana.

This conception of liberty seems to have taken hold of some of us.  I confess to having libertarian leanings, but the tendency of some to object to almost all government action of any kind and to object to it because it infringes on our self-proclaimed sacred liberty is a matter of concern.  It is, first, unrealistic.  Any thinking person in these times must know that his/her liberty is necessarily restricted, and that he/she wants the liberty of others to be restricted.  It is hypocritical.  If something bad happens to one holding this conception of liberty, it may reasonably be expected that they will be shrieking that the government should be doing something about it.

It seems to have its basis in a romantically nostalgic view of a past which likely never existed.  The cowboy, a kind of 19th century migrant-worker, probably didn't celebrate his freedom much.  His life was likely a Hobbesian one, nasty, brutish and short.  The very wealthy and well-off doubtless had pretty much their way with everyone else in the past; it's not that long ago that the robber-barons did whatever they pleased, and if we but think a bit it will occur to us that most of us would not have been then, and are not now, in a position to do whatever we please, and that we'd rather not see others doing as they pleased.

Limitations on government (and especially government spending) are desirable.  But the current anti-government movement is too often infantile and short-sighted.  Those limitations should be intelligent limitations.  The fact is that most of those on our hectic political stage are not seeking limitations in any intelligent sense.  They are as beholden to special interests and certain government programs as any other politicians.  If they are brave enough to support cuts in spending, they will not do so with respect to that spending those who support them consider to be their bread and butter.

Thoughts on the Limitations of Libertarianism

I have a certain sympathy for the libertarian view, as I've noted before on this blog.  That is to say, it troubles me when government acts to restrict our thought or conduct, when we don't harm others.  As to our thought, I see no basis on which government should restrict us at all.  When harm results from our conduct, then government may legitimately exercise its police power to regulate us; just how much it should do so is a complicated matter, and the extent of harm required to justify the restriction is not an easy issue to address either. 

Libertarianism is often justified by reference to natural or God-given rights.  Not being particularly religious, I'm not inclined to claim God as a basis for the unfettered exercise of conduct, or thought for that matter.  I'm not so opposed to reference to nature in these circumstances, though, if what is referred to is human nature, and the fact that we have certain characteristics and abilities in common, generally desire certain things, like happiness, peace and comfort and reasonably believe we should not be unnecessarily imposed on by government or others provided we do no harm.

Well and good.  Government should leave us alone, for the most part.  But if I think there is value in certain things, like happiness, peace and comfort, and that I should be allowed to achieve them, doesn't it follow that others should be allowed to do so as well?  What, then, if they can't, not because of restrictions imposed by government, but because of their circumstances?  Does the libertarian opposition to government restrictions entail opposition to government action to improve the circumstances of those who are not in the position to live in happiness, peace and comfort?

I would say no; this doesn't seem to follow.  But, to improve the circumstances of others, government needs resources, and it has none unless it taxes or imposes fees for government services.  When it imposes taxes or fees, it restricts the abilities of some to pursue what they think is appropriate or desirable.  Is it appropriate to oppose this kind of restriction?

It is inherent in the position that we each have certain rights that others have such rights in addition to ourselves.  So, it can't be maintained that those who cannot exercise such rights don't have them.  It can only be maintained that they can't exercise them, because they're less fortunate than we are.

Should the response to this be "that's too bad" or (shudder) "that must be the way God wants it to be" or some variant?  This seems a mean, selfish, contemptible option.  What is the libertarian response?  Will the fabled "Invisible Hand" make all right eventually?  That seems just another kind of mysticism.

I just finished a book by Larry Hickman about John Dewey and his "pragmatic technology."  I may have more to say about this later.  But I was struck by his explanation of Dewey's response to those on the left and the right who maintained that he was naive to believe that we can remedy economic and other social problems through the exercise of intelligence and education.   Dewey was accused of being sentimental, and it was claimed pragmatism provided no justification for the betterment of others.

Dewey's response, according to Hickman, was that it was only reasonable to improve the condition of those who were poor, illiterate, unskilled, etc.  By doing so, we can avoid violence (through revolution and otherwise).  We can increase their contribution to society which will inevitably better our own position.  They can become investors and participants in the social enterprise rather than outcasts or parasites.

So there can be some pragmatic basis for social welfare (even in the common sense of "pragmatic").  There need be nothing of the charitable impulse involved, if that makes anyone uncomfortable.  The question then is how to go about it effectively.