Politics
The terms 'Politics', 'Politicians', 'Policy', 'Police' all originate from POLIS, the title of city-states in ancient Greece. Each such city created its own laws, courts, money, army and foreign policy. There were different Poleis, each with its own special system for running the city, for making its laws, its policy, and its army. Some cities were named after their founders: the Emperor Constantine founded Constantino-polis. Adriano-polis was named after Adrian. Akropolis is the 'high city', the hilly part of ancient Athens.
What a Polis intends to do is called 'Polis-y'. "Politics" was the activity of deciding what the Polis should do. Those who decide policy are called "Politicians".
People appointed to enforce the laws of the Polis are called 'Police'.
Nowadays we can replace the term 'Polis' by the term 'Society', and "Politics" is the activity of deciding what an entire society should do.
In some Poleis dictators decided what the Polis shold do, in others - the elders or land owners.
In Athens all free men (but not women and slaves) decided all policies. This was known as 'Demos-kratia' because the "Demos" (the entire community) had "Kratos", namely – authority to decide what the Polis should do.
What people call "Democracy" today is a system where representatives of citizens - not all citizens themselves - decide all policies. This is Rule by Representatives (RR) not democracy. Calling such a system "Democracy" is false and misleading.
In Democracy all citizens decide all policies, and no one decides for others.
Politics means deciding what an entire society should do. This is done today by a few politicians. Everywhere today only a few Representatives of citizens - not the citizens themselves - decide all policies.
People accept policy-making by representatives because they do not yet see how all citizens can do so themselves. This seems impossible. Finding out what millions of citizens want looked too complicated until recently. Today it can be done by electronic means.
In Direct Democracy every citizen can propose, discuss and vote on every policy.
Is this technically possible today? Yes.
Is this desirable? To some - No. To others - Yes;
To do politics is to decide policy. What does "to decide" mean?
In politics there are two types of decisions:
- What should society do? (decisions of policy)
- How should society do it? (decisions of how to carry out a policy).
Next we shall discuss the first type. Later on we shall discuss the second type.
Decisions of Policy
Decisions are not Conclusions
Many people confuse decisions with conclusions. Decisions are not conclusions.
To decide is to PREFER. To draw a conclusion is to DIAGNOSE.
A decision is a preferance, a conclusion is a diagnosis.
There are four differences between a 'decision' and a 'conclusion'.
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1. To 'decide' is to choose one option from a number of options. If only one option exists we cannot choose and there is nothing to decide. To choose is to prefer.
Preference is determined by a priority. So every decision is determined by a priority.
To "reach a onclusion" is utterly different. Only one right conclusion exists and we cannot choose it according to our priorities. We must deduce it from the data by using logical reasoning and technical knowledge. Data, reasoning and knowledge - not priorities - determine a single right conclusion. We must accept it even if we prefer a different one.
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2. A conclusion can be 'right' or 'wrong', (2+2=5), but not 'Good' or 'Bad'. There are no bad conclusions, only wrong ones. A decision can be 'Good' or 'Bad', but not 'right' or 'wrong'. There are no wrong decisions, only bad ones..
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3. Those making a decision are responsible for its outcome as they could decide differently - by a different priority - and get a different outcome. Those who draw a conclusion are not responsible for its results. They could not draw a different conclusion that is right.
They are responsible only for the conclusion being right, not for its results.
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4. Data determines conclusions, it does not determine decisions. The same data forces different people to draw the same conclusion, but they can make different decisions on it because of their different priorities.
To clarify further the difference between a decision and a conclusion, let us compare Hamlet wondering "To be or not to be?" with a doctor pondering "To amputate or not to amputate? " Hamlet has two options and must decide which to choose. Knowledge and logic cannot help him, as they do not determine what is 'Good' for him. On the other hand, a doctor must solve his dilemma by medical knowledge and logical reasoning leading to the right medical conclusion. If this has 'Bad' consequences the doctor is not to blame.
A doctor is responsible only for his conclusion being right.
Imagine a patient suffering from a tumour in the leg. Analyzing test-results the doctor concludes that the patient has cancer and says: Amputation can enable you to live longer; without it, you'll die soon.
By applying logical reasoning to medical data a doctor draws a single medical conclusion ('diagnosis'). If the conclusion is wrong it is due to faulty data or reasoning but not due to the doctor's priority. Medical data determines a doctor's conclusion, but not the patient's response to this conclusion. The patient - not the doctor - decides how to respond to the doctor's conclusion. The same conclusion can lead different patients to make different decisions due to different priorities. Some decide to die rather than live as disabled, others decide to live as disabled rather than die. Which decision is "Good"?
Can the same conclusion lead to contradictory decisions, both "Good" ?
Can two decisions that contradict each other both be 'good'?
Surprising as it may seem the answer is - Yes.
The reason is simple: different patients have different priorities, some prefer disability to death, while others prefer death to disability. Both decisions are 'good' in the eyes of those who made them, as they are determined by different priorities, not by facts, knowledge or reason. Different people have different priorities, and there is no absolute priority enabling us to grade all priorities.
How does all this relate to politics?
Are politics decisions or conclusions?
Do politicians 'decide' or 'conclude' policy?
In politics people vote. Voting is choosing. To choose is to prefer. We decide what to prefer.
Anyone deciding policy - King, Dictator, President, Prime Minister, Leader, or ordinary citizen - chooses one option from a number of options. We cannot choose a conclusion. Answering "What to do"? is always a decision, never a conclusion.
Decisions are determined by priorities, not by data, knowledge or reasoning. The same facts, knowledge, and logic, can lead to different decisions due to different priorities.
Politics is decisions, not conclusions. We decide political issues. We don't conclude them.
Those who make a decision are responsible for its results as they could make a different decision (motivated by a different priority) and get different results.
Politicians whose decisions produce undesirable results usually try to evade their responsibility for such results by saying I had no choice
pretending their decisions were conclusions. But they voted. Voting is choosing. One cannot choose a conclusion.
Priorities
A priority is a principle that determines preference. Without a priority we cannot choose.
To 'decide' is to choose one option from a number of options. To choose is to prefer. We prefer according to our priority. Priorities determine what we consider as 'good' and for whom it is 'good'. Many believe priorities are 'natural' or 'self-evident'. Not so. They are arbitrary assertions we make as without them we cannot make a decision.
Before World War I in Europe many believed that 'good' means 'Whatever is good for King and country.' In the United States some believed that 'What's good for General Motors is good for the United States.' But is the 'Good for General Motors' also good for the Ford Motor Company? Ford employees may think otherwise.
Human priorities are created by people, not by 'Nature', not by 'God', not by 'History', not by 'Reality.' Priorities are not imposed on us from outside, above, or below. If they were, there wouldn't be political problems. Many people believe 'Survival' is the ultimate priority imposed on us by Nature. Hamlet refutes this. If survival were his priority 'not to be' cannot be an option, as he must conclude 'to be' and has nothing to decide. But for Hamlet 'not to be' is an option, so he must decide, not conclude. For Hamlet - and many others - survival is not the ultimate priority. There is no ultimate priority.
A BBC survey conducted in 2004 showed that 71% of US citizens were ready 'to die for God.' They value God more than their survival. Many value their WAY of life more than life itself. Many prefer to risk their lives for Freedom or Honour rather than to live under oppression, or in shame. 'Death before dishonour!' and 'Freedom or death!' motivated millions to fight against oppression rather than submit to it.
Is submission to Nazi rule preferable to fighting against Nazism? Many replied - No.
Human society was not created by Nature. It is an arbitrary creation of human beings. By creating society people liberated themselves from total subordination to Nature. In Nature behaviour is dominated by biological needs. There is nothing 'good' in being completly dominated by biological needs: it abolishes freedom and reduces priorities to one - survival. Living in society liberates us from this enslavement by making the fulfilment of biological needs easier. Society frees us to choose priorities set by us, not by Nature.
Life in society enables us to choose our own priorities.
All political priorities can be sorted into just five types by posing the question:
The five possible answers are:
- 1. Good for me/my family (the Ego-centric priority)
- 2. Good for my King/Country/Nation/tribe (the Ethno-centric priority)
- 3. Good for Humanity (the Anthropo-centric priority)
- 4. Good for God (the Theo-centric priority)
- 5. Good for all Nature (the Bio-centric priority)
At any moment we have a single priority. We need it as without it we cannot decide.
We cannot have two priorities at the same time, as we cannot prefer two things. We may want two things but if we must choose one of them we must prefer by using our priority.
Each priority excludes all other priorities. 'Good for King and Country' excludes 'Good for me'; 'Deutschland über Alles' excludes 'Rule Britannia'; both exclude 'Good for Humanity.' Many people use one priority for one purpose and another priority for other purposes but at any given moment everyone has only a single priority.
Economic and political conflicts originate from conflicts of priorities. Ethno-centrism of one group comes into conflict with ethno-centrism of other groups and often leads to war.
Egocentrism of one person comes into conflict with the egocentrism of all other persons.
Ego-centrism, the priority principle of Capitalism, contradicts Anthropo-centrism, which is the priority principle of Socialism and of Christianity.
Each priority has sub-priorities, to decide what does 'good' mean. 'Good for me' can mean maximum health, or maximum wealth, or maximum power, or maximum happiness, or longevity. Here too we can have only one sub-priority at any moment.
How do priorities affect Hamlet and the doctor? They affect Hamlet but not the doctor.
Hamlet decides according to his priorities but the doctor concludes by applying logical reasoning to medical data, not by personal priorities. If Hamlet is religious then his priority makes him choose 'to be' as all religions forbid suicide. But if his priority is 'good for me', and if he prefers death to dishonour, then he'll decide not to be
. A doctor cannot choose a medical conclusion. Conclusions are not chosen but imposed by the data and by logic.
What about politics? Is Politics conclusions or is it decisions?
Politicians vote. One cannot vote for a conclusion, so politics consists of decisions.
'Good for King and country' was the priority of most Europeans up to World War I, and millions of Europeans volunteered to die for that priority.
Two world wars changed people's priorities. Today most people in Europe and the United States have another priority: Ego-centrism. 'I do what is good for me'.
In his inaugural speech in 1961 President Kennedy appealed to the citizens of the USA to change their priority. He said:
Ask not what your country can do for YOU. Ask what YOU can do for your country.
He asked them to change their priority from ego-centrism to ethno-centrism. Very few did so.
Priorities are programmed into children by parents, teachers, leaders. Once implanted, it is very difficult to change them - especially if this is done using authoritarian means.
People believe that their own priority is 'natural', 'self-evident', 'the only sensible choice'. But all priorities are arbitrary. No priority can be justified 'objectively' as every justification is itself based on a priority which requires justification.
Despite Kennedy's request, very few Americans changed their ego-centric priority.
Some Americans decided that Kennedy's priorities contradicted their priorities and assassinated him on November 22, 1963, in Dallas, Texas. This event - like all wars - demonstrates that conflicts of priorities often motivate people to kill.
Politicians
In ancient Athens citizens concerned with the Polis were known as
To vote is to choose. To choose is to prefer. In elections we decide who will decide for us what our society should do. We choose others to express our preference and expect them to prefer according to our priorities. They are supposed to serve as a mere extension of us.
In reality they impose their own priorities on us.
Why choose others to prefer on our behalf? Why can't we choose ourselves what we prefer our society to do? We elect representatives because to find out what millions of citizens prefer was very slow and difficult, while policies must often be decided quickly.
The easiest way to decide policies for a whole society was to authorize one person to decide for all. Therefore for many years, in most societies, one person (Chieftain, King, Emperor) decided what an entire society should do. Often, that person's priority was to make authority to decide for all into property of his family. Eventually people rejected such authority and elected representatives to decide policies for them. If one politician represents 100,000 citizens, 500 politicians represent 50 million citizens. These 500 can sit in a medium-sized hall to debate ('parler' in Parliament or 'congregate' in Congress) and vote by raising hands. Representatives make many decisions daily for those who elected them. This system is still in use as finding out what millions of people prefer, explaining to them the options and their possible results, setting up voting facilities, counting millions of votes, was - until recently - a very long and complicated procedure.
Nowadays all this can be done by TV, mobile phones, or magnetic cards.
Many believe that politicians apply the preferences of those who elected them. Usually they don't. Nor do they possess a special skill for deciding. Every decision is determined by a priority, not by a skill. Decision-making is a role, not a skill; everyone makes decisions daily. The Athenian philosopher Plato - who opposed Democracy - argued that decision-making is a skill like that of a ship's captain who steers a ship in a particular direction by using knowledge of ships and navigation. But society is not a ship. All passengers on a ship want to reach the same destination, but not all citizens in society want the same policy since they have different priorities. Politicians need some skills to get Power, like conspiracy (to defeat rivals); flattery (to get the support of superiors); and hypocrisy (to win voters) but they need no special skill for deciding policy.
Politicians decide policy according to their personal priority like everyone else.
The citizens of ancient Athens, who invented Democracy, declared: Every cook can govern.
We see this is true when Arnold Schwarzenegger, a muscle man who became an actor, serves as Governor of California. He can decide for all citizens without any special skill or training because all decisions are determined by priorities not by a special skill.
Arnold has priorities just like anyone else. In 1980 Ronald Reagan, another Hollywood actor, became President of the USA. Did he possess a special skill required for being President?
Not at all. No President has a special skill required for being President, Acting as President is a role, not a profession. It can never become a profession.
Anyone can act as President. Whether he'll be good (for whom?) or bad (for whom?) depends on the priorities of those who comment on his decisions.
Forecasting the outcome of a policy does require knowledge and skill, which are provided by experts who study the various options and their possible outcomes. Such experts explain to the President the various options and their possible results, but they do not decide which option to choose. The President decides. Experts rarely decide policy, but when they do, it is their priorities, not their expertise, that determines their decision.
A President acts like the jury in a court of law. Jury members are not legal experts. They listen to lawyers, to witnesses, and the judge, and then decide whether the defendant is guilty or not. When witnesses contradict each other, jurors must decide whom to believe. They do so according to their preferences, not according to their legal knowledge.
Politicians decide what society will do and the State carries out these decisions. This raises two questions:
- 1. What is 'Society'? and
- 2. What is 'The State'?
Society
Margaret Thatcher, Britain's Prime Minister during the 1980s, once said: There is no such thing as society, there are only individuals and families.
She said this to justify her policy of privatization, arguing that coal mines, railways, electricity plants, must be run exclusively for profit, not as a service to Society, which is - according to her - a fiction, not a reality.
At first it seems she is right. We see no entity called 'Society'. We see only people.
But if she is right, then one can also say: There is no such thing as an Army, there are only people wearing uniforms.
We know this is nonsense. An Army is more than people wearing uniforms. The difference between an Army and people wearing military uniforms is not in the way they look but in the way they behave. People wearing military uniforms as a fashion do not obey orders and do not act together according to a plan. They do not risk their lives or kill others, even if ordered to do so. Only soldiers in an Army do so.
The difference between people and society is not in how they look but in how they behave. A society is not merely people living next to each other but people behaving according to rules accepted by all of them. These rules - known as laws - are made to resolve conflicts between people, and are accepted by most people in a society.
Obedience to laws makes people into a society. Different societies make different laws, but only when a group of people accepts the same laws do they become a society. Not everyone obeys every law, but most of the time most people obey most laws. Some do so out of fear of punishment, but most people in most societies obey most laws because they know that without laws there will be constant strife and living together will be impossible. A crowd of people, each obeying their private laws, as in frontier towns in the Wild West of the United States in the 19th century, is not a society. It is merely a crowd without cohesion. Such crowds lack stability and viability. They live in constant strife, lack communality, and eventually fall apart. American Indians used to say the Wild West became Wild
only after the whites arrived. It became wild because each white immigrant obeyed only his own laws. When people obey only their private rules they constantly fight each other and society does not exist.
Before creating societies, hominoids were just another species of apes lacking speech and thought. Life in society produced speech and thought thus 'humanizing' primates. Speech and thought are not produced by Nature but by Society. If, as Margaret Thatcher said, Society does not exist, then speech, language, and thinking, could not exist either.
The State
As we have seen, people living together and obeying accepted rules are a society.
To make the rules (Laws), to enforce them and defend them, people created special systems. All of them together are - 'the State'. The components of the State are:
- 1 Parliament - a group to discuss and decide laws and policies for an entire society.
- 2. Government - a commitee deciding how to carry out each policy.
- 3. Courts, Police, and Prisons – people trained and organized to enforce the Laws;
- 4. An Army - people organized, and armed, to attack other societies or defend their society from others.
All these together are "The State".
The content of the laws depends on their makers. If one person makes the Laws they will depend on that person's priorities. If a group makes them they will depend on the group's priorities. Peoples' survival depended on society and society depended on laws accepted by all. In the past people attributed the creation of laws to God. The laws were deemed to come from God. Laws were engraved in stone to be permanent and visible (in Hebrew 'to make a law' means 'to engrave in stone'.) The Bible story about God giving the Ten Commandments to Moses on Mount Sinai is an example of the belief that the laws by which a society lives are made by God. According to the Bible Moses engraved them on two stone tablets, but he recieved them from God.
Mohammed too was convinced that God dictated the Koran to him.
Actually it is people who make all laws. Moses - not God - created the Ten Commandments, and Muhamad - not God - created the Koran. Human beings, not Gods, make laws and States, and they can - and do - change them. Every State is designed, created, maintained and paid for by all the citizens and they have a right to change it whenever they so wish.
The basic issue of politics is: Who makes the laws and sets the policies of a society?
Until four centuries ago the answer was - the King.
Many citizens opposed laws and policies made by kings and decided to make the laws themselves. No King liked this. A violent conflict between kings and citizens started. The King called for 'Law and Order' denouncing the citizens as 'outlaws' and 'lawless'. By 'Law and Order' he meant his Law and his Order. The citizens wanted the "Law and Order" they made themselves. The conflict between the citizens and the king was not conflict of 'law vs. lawlessness' or 'order vs. disorder'. It was a conflict of "King's law" vs. "Citizens' law" and "King's order" vs. "citizens' order". Eventually the citizens won, but the issue, 'Who makes the laws and who decides what the Order should be?' Is still with us today.
Nowadays 'law and order' is decided by politicians, yet many citizens disagree with many laws and much of this 'order'. Today we can have a system where all citizens - not their representatives - decide what the laws and the order should be.
Such a system is a Direct Democracy (DD). It is a society run directly by all its citizens. This will be denounced as 'Disorder' and 'Lawless' by those who prefer Rule by Representatives (RR). A system where citizens are represented by others but can represent themselves directly and determine the laws and the order themselves, is not a democracy.
This raises the question: What is Democracy?
Democracy
Democracy was invented in the ancient city of Athens by Cleisthenes about 2,500 years ago. In Greek, 'Demos' means 'the people of the community'; 'Kratos' means 'power' or 'authority to decide'. 'Demos-kratia' (Demokratia) means 'a system to decide what a group should do where all members have the right to participate in all decisions'. Nowadays we would call this a Direct Democracy as citizens themselves - not their representatives - decide all policies. In Athenian Demos-kratia all free adult men (but not women or slaves) decided all the laws and policies of their society. This was not 'rule by referendum' asking citizens to vote on questions set by others. Every citizen could propose every law and policy, amend or debate it, and vote on it.
Denying women and slaves to propose and vote on policy is a major fault, but in most ancient societies also free men could not decide policy or law. Only kings or elders made all laws and policies. Athenian demos-kratia was unique by enabling all free men to vote.
Today we still admire Egypt's pyramids, but they are not something we can use. Yet Athenian democracy is something we can use today. Democracy is still very much in demand, though its content and form have been perverted beyond recognition.
Athenian democracy produced the philosophies of Socrates, Plato and Aristotle. It invented Theatre, Drama, Persona, Tragedy, Comedy, the plays of Aeschylus, Sophocles, Aristophanes, and the method of proof by logical argument. We still use them today. They were created in Athens, not in Sparta which was nearby but was run by two kings and a council of elders. Philosophy, Theatre, Tragedy, Persona, grew from the public debates on policy which took place before voting, in a square known as the Agora. Every citizen could express his views in the Agora. On controversial issues there was even a duty (called Parhesia) to express views publicly - silence was punished by law.
All citizens debated and voted directly on all laws and policies of Athens.
In Athenian democracy there were no elections. Citizens appointed people to carry out policies. Such appointments were made by lottery, not by election. Posts were granted for one year only. No one could serve two consecutive years. Each year new lotteries appointed new people and the outgoing ones had to account for their deeds and were punished for failures. Appointing officials by lottery prevented the formation of an elite and eliminated competition and corruption.
This is utterly different from what we call Democracy today. Nowadays Democracy means electing a few politicians to decide for all citizens. This contradicts the meaning and spirit of original democracy where all citizens decided all policies, without representatives.
Politics without Politicians is the authentic, original, meaning of Athenian Demos-kratia.
Freedom
To be Free is to live by one's own decisions. Freedom means living by self-made decisions, and therefore those living by their own decisions are free. Those who live - knowingly or unknowingly - by other people's decisions, are not free.
Total freedom is impossible in any society. It is possible only when one lives - voluntarily - isolated from all people. Living with others requires accepting, occasionaly, their decisions, and limiting one's own decisions so they do not harm others. Even two people living together voluntarily have disagreements, and each must, occasionally, accept decisions of the other. If the same person always accepts others' decisions, that person is oppressed. But if people take turns in accepting others' decisions they limit their freedom - voluntarily - for the sake of living together. This occurs in most families, communities, cities, and societies.
In society people agree to obey decisions of others if others in turn obey decisions of theirs. If the same person or group always has to bow to decisions of others, they are oppressed.
Total freedom for every member of a group is impossible in any group, even in the smallest anarchist commune.
Most people prefer to live in groups such as family, tribe, society, with partial, rather than total, freedom. However, there are different degrees of partial freedom. Living under elected rulers gives people more freedom than living under unelected rulers, as the ruled can at least decide who will decide for them. But those living under elected rulers have less freedom than those living without rulers. A society where every citizen can propose, debate and vote on every law and policy is self-ruled, and its majority lives by its own decisions. The minority must obey majority decisions but if the minority has a fair chance to become a majority it is not oppressed. These citizens enjoy far more freedom than those who live in a society where representatives decide every law and policy.
Politics without politicians (Direct Democracy) allows the highest level of freedom possible in any society. It is not total freedom, as majority decisions are binding and the minority must accept them. So the minority is not totally free. However, those in a minority on one issue can be in the majority on another decision. A minority that can promote its views and become a majority is not oppressed. A minority prevented from becoming a majority by rules (laws) forbidding it - or restricting its ability - to publicize its views, is oppressed - but if it can publicize its views, gain votes and become a majority, it is not.
Direct Democracy enables every minority to promote its views, however disagreeable they may be .This stimulates public debates on policy, increases people's concern for their society, and raises the quality of life in society as a whole and of each individual within it.
Indifference to society breeds boredom and depression. By encouraging people to participate in deciding what their society should do Direct Democracy will dispel their indifference to society and thus the boredom and depression most people suffer today.
Cleisthenes
The Development of Democracy in Athens: Cleisthenes
We saw earlier that the new plan for the city of Miletus, following its destruction in 494 BC, created a geometrically regular structure on an irregular terrain. The reforms of Cleisthenes imposed a similar pattern, not on the land of Attica but on its citizen population. Following Cleisthenes' reforms, the fundamental division of the population was according to DEMES, a word whose basic meaning appears to have been something like "divisions." In the rural parts of Attica, the deme was a village or a town, while in the urban area of Athens the deme corresponded to what we would call a "neighborhood." There were 140 of these demes, which Cleisthenes distributed into 30 newly created entities, called TRITTYES, each consisting of a number of demes, from one or two large ones to about 10 smaller ones. Ten of these trittyes were located in and near the city of Athens, 10 along the coast, and 10 in the inland area away from the city. While the demes in each trittys were in many instances geographically contiguous, that was not always the case, and in some instances 40 or more kilometers might separate two demes belonging to the same trittys. The purpose of these trittyes seems to have been to arrange Athens in such a way as to create divisions that could represent a cross-section of the population. For one trittys from each of the three areas, city, coast, and inland, was combined into one of 10 newly created tribes. Previously, the population of Attica had been divided among four ancestral tribes, the names of which are also found as the names of tribes in several Ionic poleis. The 10 new tribes were named after legendary Athenian heroes and membership in them was hereditary, giving the impression that all members of the tribe were descended from a common heroic ancestor. In fact, this new and arbitrary arrangement represented a significant break with the past and had the (undoubtedly intended) effect of reducing the influence of traditional family connections. What is perhaps most surprising is the ease with which the Athenians appear to have been willing to adopt this new organization. Cleisthenes must have counted on the readiness of the Athenians to reinvent their past, a readiness that, as we have seen, is characteristic of the Greeks generally.
- DEME
- A local territorial district, either a village or a neighborhood of a larger urban area; also, by extension, the inhabitants of the district.
- TRITTYS (PLURAL: TRITTYES)
- One of 30 units into which the population of Attica was divided by Cleisthenes in 508 BC, with one trittys from each of the three geographical divisions (city, coast, and inland) combining to constitute one of the 10 tribes created by Cleisthenes.
The division into 10 tribes served a partly military and partly administrative function. When Athens was at war, all soldiers from the same tribe stood together in battle and were commanded by a member of their own tribe; there were 10 generals, one elected annually from each tribe. Each of the 10 tribes also selected 50 of its own members each year to represent it in the Council of 500. This Council was itself a newly created body, replacing an earlier Council of 400, which had consisted of 100 members from each of the (now discontinued) ancestral tribes. The new Council of 500 set the agenda for the meetings of the assembly of all Athenians, so that all matters of public policy necessarily passed through it. Every deme was represented on the Council by a number of its members ranging from one to 22, depending on the population of the deme. In this way, the government of the state was rooted at the level of the deme where, presumably, every citizen was familiar with all his fellow demesmen. This was the level of "the people." In fact, the Greek word for "the people," the word from which English "democracy" is derived, is precisely the word "deme," which can mean either "the people as a whole" or "the local division of the people." The structure through which the inhabitants of each deme participated in the government of the polis was both elaborate and arbitrary, giving each individual citizen a genuine sense of participation while ensuring that no one individual was in a position to exercise undue influence. The sense of familiarity that a citizen felt toward his fellow demesman, whom he saw and dealt with locally on a daily basis, was combined with a feeling of solidarity with his fellow tribesman, who might live at quite a distance in a very different environment, but with whom he served in the Council deciding on matters of state and by whose side he risked his life in battle. The stunning success of the Athenian military forces at Marathon, Salamis, and Plataea must have reinforced the tribal solidarity brought about by these recently introduced reforms.
Ostracism
There was one other institution that the Athenians attributed to Cleisthenes – whether correctly or not is matter for debate – that also had the effect of both promoting a sense of grassroots participation and of preventing any individual from attaining excessive power. This was the practice known as OSTRACISM, which takes its name from the Greek word ostrakon (plural ostraka), which means "broken piece of pottery" and is related to the Greek word from which English "oyster" comes. As we have seen, ceramic vessels were in very common use in every period of ancient Greek civilization. Because of their fragile nature and because they are not readily biodegradable, fragments of these vessels are the most numerous, and the most long-lasting, components of ancient Greek trash. The Athenians discovered a way of recycling these fragments by using them as ballots in an unusual form of popular self-expression. Once every year, the Athenian assembly decided whether or not an ostracism was to be held. If a majority voted in favor, an election of sorts was held in the agora later that year, in which each citizen had the right to cast a ballot by inscribing the name of any Athenian on an ostrakon. The person receiving the largest number of votes – but only if the total number of votes cast exceeded 6,000 – was given 10 days to leave Athenian territory, to which he was not allowed to return for a period of 10 years. At the end of that time he could resume his normal life and, if he wished, continue his involvement in political affairs. The effect of this procedure was to reduce political tensions in the city by temporarily removing a controversial figure from circulation; that is, not punishing him so severely that he and his supporters would be tempted to engage in desperate acts of vengeance.
- OSTRACISM
- The Athenian practice of holding an election, in which fragments of pottery (ostraka) were used as ballots, to determine whether one prominent political figure should be removed from the polis for a 10-year period.
Principle of Political Equality (PPE)
The American Declaration of Independence runs:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.
And women? Are they created equal
with men?
The formulators of this declaration did not consider women – or slaves – as equals. They opposed the idea that women must have the same rights as men.
As no two creatures are created equal
the declaration also contradicts biological facts.
What equality did its authors have in mind? Did they mean biologically equal? Legaly equal? Economic equality? Political equality? These are different matters. It seems they meant legal equality - namely, that all laws apply equally to all people, whatever their origin, race, sex, creed, wealth or power, so no one is above the law. The dismissing of President Nixon in 1974 for his part in the Watergate scandal demonstrated this equality, it showed that even a President of the United States is not above the law.
So much for applying the law equally, but what about equal authority to make laws? Do all citizens have equal authority to propose, debate, and vote, on every law?
Certainly not. Very few citizens are authorized to vote on laws or policies. Those who do so are not legal experts but politicians. Applying all laws equally to all citizens is important, but equal authority to vote on laws is more important. Authority to vote on laws and policies is authority to make the rules which all citizens must obey.
Every citizen must have the right to decide what laws society should accept. After all, the purpose of law is to improve the life of all citizens. Shouldn't those whose life is to be improved decide themselves how to do it? Apparently not, as in no society today are all citizens authorized to propose, debate and vote for the laws and policies of their society.
The Principle of Political Equality (PPE) asserts that even though no two citizens are biologically equal all must have equal authority to vote on every law and policy of their society. Only those who have this equality live by their own decisions - and are free.
When all citizens have equal authority to make laws, they can legislate other equalities. They can decide all laws of society, including other equalities.
PPE must be applied to any group, couple, family, tribe, nation, army, place of work, school, and to society itself. PPE asserts the right of every member of a group to propose, debate and vote on every decision of the group. Some will accept PPE as self-evident. Others will prefer to die rather than accept it. They will oppose its application to society - but even more so to family, school, and work. PPE abolishes power and domination in every domain of society, in families, schools, places of work, trade unions, and political parties. It equalizes leaders and the led, dominators and the dominated. No political party leader, Right or Left, will accept that all members of his or her party have equal authority to propose, debate and vote on every policy of their party.
Many democrats
denounce PPE for taking Democracy too far, and label it Populism
. They distort the meaning of original Democracy and write it off as dated
or unrealistic
. It is a safe bet that hysterical campaigns against PPE will erupt whenever demands for PPE will appear. The scope and intensity of hostility to PPE will exceed the hostility to Socialism, Anarchism or Feminism. Socialists will oppose PPE no less than Capitalists, arguing that what really matters is the Principle of Economic Equality, not of Political Equality (PPE). Socialists ignore the fact that in all the states based on economic equality (the USSR and the former Eastern Bloc) only a handful of officials decided everything for everybody, and 99.99% of all citizens had no authority to decide anything, not even who should decide for them. No wonder such systems collapsed without bloodshed. Very few of their citizens supported them. Such systems were supposed to overcome oppression and exploitation caused by economic inequality but being based on political inequality they produced greater oppression and exploitation by denying their citizens political freedom. Most people who grew up in former socialist states prefer economic inequality of capitalism to political inequality of socialism. No wonder.
The collapse of the USSR was the historical proof that economic equality is inferior to political equality - and cannot create it. Only political equality can create any other equality and is therefore far more important than any other equality.
Opponents of political equality argue that most citizens lack the knowledge to understand the laws they vote for, either their benefits or their drawbacks. But this [also] applies to most politicians who vote on laws nowadays. Most of them are not legal experts, yet they debate and vote on new laws and policies. They call experts to explain the consequences of proposed policies, then they choose the option that suits their own priorities. Every citizen can do the same. Citizens can listen on radio or TV to panels of experts explaining a new law or policy, and later vote on it. If a law or policy has unforeseen negative results, the citizens can always repeal them. All panels of experts must be drawn by lottery and changed regularly.
Political Parties
A political party is a group of people acting voluntarily to promote a particular policy. A political Party is not part of the State. The State can function without political parties. If some citizens want to promote a particular policy they can form a political Party to do so, but the state can function without them.
A large Party needs people to run its offices, to publicize its views, to organize meetings and talks, to raise funds, to create new Party branches and communicate regularly with Party members. To do all this Parties hire full-time employees, known by various names – officials, secretaries, bureaucrats, nomenklatura. The names don't matter; what matters is that these people earn their living by running political parties and controlling their work. They decide what to do and how to do it, they influence nominations to Party posts.
Many of these officials care more about their Party job than about the Party's policies [because their livelihoods depend on their jobs, not on the Party that employs them or on its effect on Society.
Each Party has its own policies, but there can be different versions of these. In most parties, different sub-groups advocate different versions of the Party's policies.
When a particular Party wins a majority in an election - in which many voters may not have bothered to vote – it starts to run the State. Its Head becomes President or Prime Minister and Party leaders become heads of government departments. This Party then runs the government and its leaders use their government posts to implement the Party's policies. This is how all democratic
states work today. Actually this contradicts the basic principle of democracy authorizing all citizens to participate in deciding all laws and policies. It also contradicts the democratic principle of nomination by lottery only.
Party Rule is not democracy. In Demos-kratia the citizens vote directly for policies, not for political Parties. What is called Democracy today is Rule by Representatives (RR). In Democracy Party leaders can decide only the policies of their Party, not of society as a whole. Parties can propose a policy to the citizens; but not decide it for them. A political party advocating a particular policy contributes to democracy, but a Party deciding all policies for all citizens is blatantly anti-democratic.
After World War II, Political Parties everywhere deteriorated in three ways:
- 1. The officials took over the Party from the policy-makers.
- 2. Parties began to seek power for their own benefits, not for the benefit of society.
- 3. Most Political Parties have become vote-collecting machines.
Today, in most countries, Party officials run States (and Parties) for their own benefit, not for the benefit of all citizens. Many people came to believe this is normal
.
Democratic Theory and the Public Sphere
One way of understanding alternative media is to consider their role in the process of democratic communication. Philosopher Jürgen Habermas proposed that a healthy democratic community requires a space where rational debate can take place between engaged citizens. It is essential that the dialogue in this public sphere occurs outside the control of any authority so that citizens can exchange ideas as equals. This translates to the need for free speech and a free press.
In Habermas's idea of the public sphere, participation is open to everyone, all participants are considered equal, and any issue can be raised for debate. However, this view fails to note the inherent exclusion of women and minorities (and their interests) from the debate in the public sphere. In light of this social inequality, philosopher Nancy Fraser argues for the importance of multiple independent public spheres, in which members of subordinated groups can first deliberate their issues and concerns among themselves and later assert those issues into the larger public sphere. The alternative media associated with these counter-public spheres are critical in developing the needs and identity of the group and in challenging the larger dominant public sphere. A feminist counter-public sphere is, for example, responsible for circulating the view that women's issues such as domestic abuse and reproductive rights are deserving of debate in the larger public sphere.
Direct Democracy
Politics means two things:
- To decide what an entire society should do.
- To carry out these decisions.
In a Direct Democracy every citizen has the right to participate in the first task, to propose a policy, to debate and vote on it. Public debates on policies are the core of Direct Democracy. In Athens these debates stimulated people to produce Philosophy, to invent the Theatre, Tragedy, Comedy, and to convince people by logical reasoning rather than by imposing one's authority. Public debates on policies are genuine only if facilities exist enabling every citizen to participate. How can millions do so? Today they can do it - by using TV for the debate, and mobile phones, magnetic cards and touch screens for voting. In ancient Athens citizens debated policy in an open-air space called "Agora". The modern Agora is TV where every citizen can speak to millions of other citizens. In DD every government Department (Health, Education, Industry, Finance etc.) operates its own TV channel around the clock all year round. Tuning in to a channel will show a panel debating policies for this department. Panel members must have knowledge and experience with issues of the particular department. They will answer questions phoned in by the public. They will explain the good and bad points of every proposal. Panel members must be drawn by lottery (not by elections) from a list of those with the required expertise. Panel members will be changed regularly; no member will serve two consecutive periods. Any reward to panel members will be a punishable crime.
The TV channel will display lists of all proposed policies and the panel will debate the pros and cons of each one. Viewers will be able to phone in at any time to question, criticize or suggest ideas. Every proposal will be allocated a discussion time (set by Constitution). When this time is up the proposal will be put to the vote. The public will have 48 hours to vote on each one. Any proposal receiving the required number of votes will be submitted to a second round of debates and voting. A policy gaining the required number of votes in the second round of voting will become state policy. If citizens demand a third vote, the proposal will be submitted to a third round of debating and voting.
Public debates on policies, by millions of people, are possible today. Clearly, when politics without politicians
is established, all citizens will have to devise and adopt a Constitution to decide all the procedures. Unforeseen problems will emerge, but where there's a will, there's a way
, especially with the help of TV, mobile phones, magnetic cards, touch-screen input and the Internet. What technology to use, and how, will be decided by all citizens when Direct Democracy is set up. For now it is sufficient to realize that by using electronic communication we can establish a political system where every citizen can propose, debate and vote on every law and policy.
When a policy has been decided a panel will be set up to carry it out. Panel members will be drawn by lottery from a pool of all those with experience and knowledge of the specific task. They will be changed at regular intervals. Complaints about panel members' inefficiency or corruption will be invistigated immediately - and punished if it was the case.
Basic Rules of DD*
Decisions of how to Carry Out a Policy*
Political Organizations (Elman Service)
Societies have been classified in terms of social and political organization.
An eminent anthropologist, Elman Service, classified societies into four kinds:
-
Band
Tribe
Chiefdom
State
Elman Service's work is fundamental to cultural materialism, one among several influential paradigms in modern anthropology. Ethnographic and archaeological studies in hundreds of places have revealed many correlations between economy and social and political organizations.
Foragers as an economic type tend to have band organization. Similarly, many pastoralists and horticulturalists have lived in tribal societies or, more simply, tribes. While most chiefdoms had farming economies, herding was important in some of the Middle Eastern chiefdoms. The non-industrial states usually had an agricultural base. With food production come the larger, denser populations and more complex economies than are found among foragers. New regulatory problems were created by these features and that gave rise to more complex relations and linkages.
Band
A band society, sometimes called a camp or, in older usage, a horde, is the simplest form of human society. A band generally consists of a small kin group, no larger than an extended family or clan. The general consensus of modern anthropology sees the average number of members of a social band at the simplest level of foraging societies with generally a maximum size of 30 to 50 people.
Bands have a loose organization. They can split up (in spring/summer) or group (in winter camps), as the Inuit, depending on the season, or member families can disperse to join other bands. Their power structure is often egalitarian. The best hunters would have their abilities recognized, but such recognition did not lead to the assumption of authority, as pretensions to control others would be met by disobedience. Judgments determined by collective discussion among the elders were formulated in terms of custom, as opposed to the law-governed and coercive agency of a specialized body, as occurred with the rise of the more complex societies that arose upon the establishment of sedentary agriculture.
A. R. Radcliffe-Brown defined the horde as a fundamental unit of Australian social organizations according to the following 5 criteria:
- It denotes people who customarily share the same camp and lifestyle.
- It is the primary landowner of a given territory.
- Each horde was independent and autonomous, regulating its social life by a camp-council, generally under the direction of a headman.
- Children belonged in the father's horde
- A unified horde identity was affirmed in all relations with external tribes.
In his 1975 study, The Notion of the Tribe, Morton Fried defined bands as small, mobile, and fluid social formations with weak leadership that do not generate surpluses, pay taxes nor support a standing army.
Bands are distinguished from tribes in that tribes are generally larger, consisting of many families. Tribes have more social institutions, such as a chief, big man, or elders. Tribes are also more permanent than bands; a band can cease to exist if only a small group splits off or dies. Many tribes are subdivided into bands. On occasion hordes or bands with common backgrounds and interests could unite as a tribal aggregate in order to wage war, as with the San, or they might convene for collective religious ceremonies, such as initiation rites or to feast together seasonally on an abundant resource as was common in Australian aboriginal societies. Among the Native Americans of the United States and the First Nations of Canada, some tribes are made up of official bands that live in specific locations, such as the various bands of the Ojibwa tribe.
Tribe
In anthropology, a tribe is a human social group. Exact definitions of what constitutes a tribe vary among anthropologists. The concept is often contrasted with other social groups concepts, such as nations, states, and forms of kinship.
In some places, such as India and North America, tribes are polities that have been granted legal recognition and limited autonomy by the national or federal government.
Tribes are associated with nonintensive food production and have villages and/or descent groups, but lack formal government and social classes.
Urban Tribes
Termed coined by french sociologist Michel Maffesoli. Its first widespread use came from his book, Le Temps des Tribus (1988). In it's original meaning, urban tribes were young city people that gathered in relatively small, fluid groups. These groups shared common interests that were, in general, different from the interests of mainstream culture.
Chiefdom
A chiefdom is a form of hierarchical political organization in non-industrial societies usually based on kinship, and in which formal leadership is monopolized by the legitimate senior members of select families or houses. These elites form a political-ideological aristocracy relative to the general group.
Within general theories of cultural evolution, chiefdoms are characterized by permanent and institutionalized forms of political leadership (the chief), centralized decision-making, economic interdependence, and social hierarchy.
Chiefdoms are described as intermediate between tribes and states in the progressive scheme of sociopolitical development formulated by Elman Service: band - tribe - chiefdom - state. A chief's status is based on kinship, so it is inherited or ascribed, in contrast to the achieved status of Big Man leaders of tribes. Another feature of chiefdoms is therefore pervasive social inequality. They are ranked societies, according to the scheme of progressive sociopolitical development formulated by Morton Fried: egalitarian - ranked - stratified - state.
The most succinct definition of a chiefdom in anthropology is by Robert L. Carneiro: An autonomous political unit comprising a number of villages or communities under the permanent control of a paramount chief
(Carneiro 1981: 45)
State
The term state refers to a form of polity, that is typically characterised as a centralized organisation. There is no single, undisputed, definition of what constitutes a state.[1][2] A widely-used definition is a state being a polity that, within a given territory, maintains a monopoly on the use of force, but many other widely used definitions exist.
Speakers of American English often use the terms state and government as synonyms, with both words referring to an organized political group that exercises authority over a particular territory. In British and Commonwealth English, state is the only term that has that meaning, while the government instead refers to the ministers and officials who set the political policy for the territory, something that speakers of American English refer to as the administration.
Nation-State
A nation state (or nation-state) is a state in which the great majority shares the same culture and is conscious of it. The nation state is an ideal in which cultural boundaries match up with political ones. According to one definition, a nation state is a sovereign state of which most of its subjects are united also by factors which defined a nation such as language or common descent.
It is a more precise concept than "country", since a country does not need to have a predominant ethnic group.
A nation, in the sense of a common ethnicity, may include a diaspora or refugees who live outside the nation-state; some nations of this sense do not have a state where that ethnicity predominates. In a more general sense, a nation-state is simply a large, politically sovereign country or administrative territory.
The Future of the Nation-State
It has been speculated by both proponents of globalization and various science fiction writers that the concept of a nation state may disappear with the ever-increasing interconnectedness of the world. Such ideas are sometimes expressed around concepts of a world government. Another possibility is a societal collapse and move into communal anarchy or zero world government, in which nation states no longer exist.
Globalization especially has helped to bring about the discussion about the disappearance of nation states, as global trade and the rise of the concepts of a global citizen and a common identity have helped to reduce differences and 'distances' between individual nation states, especially with regards to the internet.
Clash of civilizations
The theory of the clash of civilizations lies in direct contrast to cosmopolitan theories about an ever more-connected world that no longer requires nation states. According to political scientist Samuel P. Huntington, people's cultural and religious identities will be the primary source of conflict in the post–Cold War world.
Huntington began his thinking by surveying the diverse theories about the nature of global politics in the post–Cold War period. Some theorists and writers argued that human rights, liberal democracy and capitalist free market economics had become the only remaining ideological alternative for nations in the post–Cold War world. Specifically, Francis Fukuyama, in The End of History and the Last Man, argued that the world had reached a Hegelian end of history
.
Huntington believed that while the age of ideology had ended, the world had reverted only to a normal state of affairs characterized by cultural conflict. In his thesis, he argued that the primary axis of conflict in the future will be along cultural and religious lines.
As an extension, he posits that the concept of different civilizations, as the highest rank of cultural identity, will become increasingly useful in analyzing the potential for conflict.
Social Workers
There are two main types of social workers: direct-service social workers, who help people solve and cope with problems in their everyday lives, and clinical social workers, who diagnose and treat mental, behavioural, and emotional issues. A social worker can work in a variety of settings, including mental health clinics, schools, hospitals, and private practices.
Direct-service social workers typically do the following:
- Identify people who need help
- Assess clients' needs, situations, strengths, and support networks to determine their goals
- Develop plans to improve their clients' well-being
- Help clients adjust to changes and challenges in their lives, such as illness, divorce, or unemployment
- Research and refer clients to community resources, such as food stamps, child care, and healthcare
- Help clients work with government agencies to apply for and receive benefits such as Medicare
- Respond to crisis situations, such as natural disasters or child abuse
- Advocate for and help clients get resources that would improve their well-being
- Follow up with clients to ensure that their situations have improved
- Evaluate services provided to ensure that they are effective
Clinical social workers typically do the following:
- Diagnose and treat mental, behavioural, and emotional disorders, including anxiety and depression
- Provide individual, group, family, and couples therapy
- Assess clients' histories, backgrounds, and situations to understand their needs, as well as their strengths and weaknesses
- Develop a treatment plan with the client, doctors, and other healthcare professionals
- Encourage clients to discuss their emotions and experiences to develop a better understanding of themselves and their relationships
- Help clients adjust to changes in their life, such as a divorce or being laid-off
- Work with clients to develop strategies to change behaviour or cope with difficult situations
- Refer clients to other resources or services, such as support groups or other mental health professionals
- Evaluate their clients' progress and, if necessary, adjust the treatment plan
Why Science Absolutely Needs a Place in Politics
You can't have politics without science
Two Sides of the Aisle
There seems to be a growing disconnect between political issues and science today. Though not the only effective approach to designing policy, many of today's issues require disciplined, dispassionate, and systematic thought,
according to 2016 Democratic candidate for the 8th Congressional District of Pennsylvania Shaughnessy Naughton. In a article she wrote for Scientific American, Naughton, who is a scientist by training, outlines her observations on how science seems to have been left out of the political conversation.
That certainly does seem to be the case as the distance between the various sides of some issues that require the input and acceptance of scientific evidence continues to grow. One such debate surrounds the scientifically unfounded belief that vaccines can cause autism. While this belief amongst the general population is worrisome enough and has led to an increase in outbreaks of previously under-control virus, even more unsettling is the idea that the thought is shared by a known vaccine skeptic that may soon be in charge of the presidential commission on vaccine safety.
Then, of course, there is the hot-button issue of man-made climate change. The American congress is known to have among its ranks a number of climate-change deniers, and they often proudly trump up their position with less-than-factual data (it doesn't help that the President-elect himself has called climate change a Chinese hoax
). Other issues include an often alarmist approach when it comes to GMOs and stem cell research, as well as a regressive attitude towards the development and use of nuclear energy.
The surprising thing is, despite all evidence pointing to the contrary, many people outside of politics believe these politicians, showing that the political sphere has influence beyond just the laws that go on the books.
The Need for a Scientific Perspective
Naughton thinks that these clashes are all made possible by the dearth of scientifically trained minds in the American Congress. I realize the importance of bringing the scientific perspective to bear on today's urgent and complex environmental and technological issues because of my background and training,
she wrote.
To raise the profile of science on the political and public stage, Naughton founded a nonprofit organization here, and she wrote about the goals of that organization in her article:
Our aim is not to make science another highly partisan issue, but rather to let facts and empirically observed data trump emotional debate. It is far too common for politicians to find themselves defending oftentimes indefensible positions that can and should be approached and solved with a scientific perspective.
What science brings to political conversation is hard evidence acquired through rigorous and disciplined study and research, according to Naughton:
As scientists, we are trained to embrace uncertainty, use the tools of data, hard evidence, and analysis to solve problems. For scientists, there are no facile answers; rather, there are complex questions that require disciplined, dispassionate and systematic thought —our aim to arrive at solutions that serve truth above expediency.
To bring science into the political dialogue, scientists have to be more involved in the political process. By this, Naughton doesn't just mean being part of some advisory group or committee, but direct involvement. [We] strive to encourage scientists and pro-science advocates to become active in the political process, running for local and national office,
she wrote.
Participation vs Representation
Politics Without Parties
It has become a truism that political parties are the fundamental political actors in modern democracies, where elections are usually considered the main way for citizens to participate in democracy. Yet the last decade has seen trust in political parties and democracy decline dramatically in countries where those institutions seemed most consolidated—including in Europe.
The 2007 to 2008 financial crisis, corruption scandals, and journalistic exposés of politicians' unethical behavior (like those in the Panama and Paradise Papers) have spread the view that political representatives either don't have the public interest at heart or aren't able to resist the influence of efficiently organized private and vested interests.
Today, almost 80 percent of people in the European Union tend not to trust
political parties, and governments and parliaments don't fare much better, according to the latest Eurobarometer survey. And, worryingly, citizens have also become more cynical about the value of democracy as a political system, less hopeful that anything they do might influence public policy, and more willing to express support for authoritarian alternatives,
according to a much-cited paper by Roberto Foa and Yascha Mounk, published in July 2016 in the Journal of Democracy.
It is democracies, often including faulty and low-quality ones, that allow for citizens to self-organize to become political actors in order to defend and promote the public interest beyond the parties and the electoral cycle. Many citizens who in the past might have joined a party or would have been content with voting are opting for a different course
PAH
After spending nine months in Latin America as an aid worker, Carlos Macías felt frustrated with the lack of impact of his work and decided to move back to Barcelona, his hometown. It was May 2011, a time when economic recession and the austerity policies imposed on Spain prompted the indignados movement to take over the squares of many Spanish cities to protest against those policies and demand real democracy.
I concluded that I didn't have to travel far away, that if I wanted to change the world I could start at home,
Macías told Foreign Policy. He was a political science graduate, but his distaste for political parties had kept him away from any kind of political engagement. He wasn't alone: One of the protest anthems was They don't represent us!
—they
being elected politicians.
With political parties a no-go zone, Macías felt attracted to a group he'd heard about that was succeeding at stopping home evictions: the Mortgage Victims' Platform, known by its Spanish acronym as PAH.
PAH was founded in Barcelona in 2009 by five friends who foresaw that the financial crisis and the draconian Spanish mortgage law—which mandates that those evicted from their homes still carry most of the debt burden after the bank repossesses their house—would condemn many people to homelessness and a lifelong debt.
Macías attended one of PAH's meetings and was shocked at the many eviction threats and heartrending dramas happening on a daily basis in Barcelona. Many people—including children and the elderly—were forcefully expelled from their homes by the police, many lost their belongings in the process, and some were sleeping rough if they didn't have anybody to take them in.
Most shockingly, there was an increasing number of suicides among people threatened with eviction. But he was also inspired by PAH's activists, most of whom had been affected by the mortgage crisis themselves and then successfully fought the banks to keep their homes or have the debt written off.
Macías became a PAH activist and went on to become the group's national spokesperson. He succeeded Ada Colau, one of PAH's co-founders, who became known all over Spain after calling a senior member of the Spanish banking association a criminal
in parliament and telling lawmakers: Most people in this country … think that voting once every four years is not democracy, that it's not enough, that it's not a blank check for parliamentary groups to do whatever they want thinking they are backed by the majority of the population.
In 2015, Colau left PAH to run for and win the Barcelona mayoralty as the leader of Barcelona En Comú, an independent citizen political platform.
PAH managed to fundamentally transform the public debate—which had long placed all the burden on mortgage holders—to shift part of the responsibility onto the banks, a view replicated by Spanish and European courts, which have since found the Spanish mortgage law unlawful. There have been eight rulings by European courts, and quite a few by Spanish regional and national courts, condemning the Spanish government and finding the banks guilty of criminal practices according to EU law due to abusive clauses in the mortgage contracts.
Some banks have been forced to pay money back to mortgage holders. PAH also drafted a citizens' initiative, currently going through parliamentary procedures—even though conservative parties had been blocking the debate about that law proposal, which now with the upcoming general election it risks being stuck in parliamentary limbo for a while—and it has successfully pushed regional and national authorities in Spain to increase tenants' and homeowners' protection.
I feel useful and capable of doing things. This may seem silly but actually that is not easy to find: feeling that you can actually change things for the better,
Macías said. While PAH may represent the prototypical grassroots organization, it's by no means the only example of citizens self-organizing in Europe.
Tax Justice Network (TJN)
Back in 2002, over tea and cake in an English town near London, John Christensen, a 62-year-old economist and forensic auditor, was asked rather ambitiously by three visitors: Would you please help us rescue Jersey from the banks?
Christensen, who is himself from Jersey, had to leave the British Channel Island in 1998 after participating as a source in an investigative report in the Wall Street Journal that described Jersey as a tax haven. He had tenure as an economic advisor to the local government and couldn't be fired, but he'd lost friends and received threats, and he finally had decided to move to London, where after the visit from his fellow Channel Islanders he ended up co-founding the Tax Justice Network (TJN), which today he chairs.
TJN is made up of economic and financial experts and accountants who get access to high-profile forums and conversations through their expertise—but also act as research-grounded activists. The strategy is to force their research into the public debate and then call for measures that are difficult for reasonable people to oppose. On paper, it works.
As the vanguard of the tax justice movement, TJN has been key in making the OECD, the G-20 and the EU accept new norms like country-by-country reporting (making corporations disclose their economic activity by country of and type of operation, which would show the profits they register in tax havens where they don't generate income), automatic exchange of financial information (making different jurisdictions share tax information with each other by default), and public disclosure of beneficial ownership (revealing the actual people who in the end benefit from financial assets).
TJN has also expanded the definition of corruption—as for instance conceptualized in Transparency International's annual Corruption Perception Index, which had become one of the international standards to measure it—to include those who enable it: the big, usually Western law and accounting firms that help corrupt political leaders, wealthy individuals, and corporations to hide their money and avoid paying taxes.
We are not aligned to any political party or political movement. But we are very much trying to bring a technical expert voice on behalf of the wider public to discussions from which that public have been excluded for decades,
Christensen said.
Gals for Gals
The rise of grassroots activism is not limited to economic policy. On April 1, 2016, Polish media began covering a citizens' initiative that aimed to allow abortion only in case of direct danger to the mother's life, and to criminalize seeking an illegal abortion. Poland already had some of Europe's most restrictive abortion laws; if passed, the new law threatened to forbid termination of a pregnancy caused by rape—and a person trying to do so could be jailed.
At first thinking the proposal was an April Fools' joke, Agata Majewska, a 35-year-old graphic designer from Warsaw, created a Facebook group to discuss the proposed law. She named it Dziewuchy Dziewuchom (Gals for Gals), invited a few of her friends to the group, and went back to work.
When she logged on to Facebook later that day, the group had grown to around 5,000 people, almost all women, many openly discussing abortion and sharing their rage at the proposed law. Majewska was shocked; she had never seen such a thing online in Poland, and this was in a group she had just created herself. Later that evening, there were around 30,000 members, and in a week the group reached almost 100,000 (with about 103,000 members today).
On April 9, during a protest the Dziewuchy page had co-organized, two of the group administrators read a speech onstage on behalf of the members: For many of us, this is the first time we voice our opposition, the first such a strong commitment in our lives. … Our discussions made us realize that we have the power to take matters into our own hands and to fight for our rights.
From an online forum, Dziewuchy had quickly grown into a real community that gave its members a sense of political identity and belonging.
As Dziewuchy became more visible, politicians from opposition parties approached its leaders to explore the possibility of collaboration—yet most members held politicians in contempt and didn't want anything to do with them. [But] what we do is actually politics, and we decided since the beginning that in all our news info and press packs we would use that phrase: that what we do is political, but we are not a political party,
said Barbara Ewa Baran, one of the group's four original members.
As well as providing a safe online space for women in Poland, Dziewuchy helped coordinate the big Black Monday protest in October 2016—which saw about 100,000 people, most of them women wearing black, take to the streets in Warsaw and over 60 other cities and towns across Poland to protest against restricting access to medical abortion—and other demonstrations and events, and its members self-organized to collect signatures to support citizens' initiatives that aimed to liberalize access to abortion in hospitals. Since April 2016, we've gained the awareness that law isn't an abstract thing, that it's touching us, that even if we are not interested in the law, the law is interested in us,
Majewska said.
Iceland 2009
In 2009, Iceland demonstrated how an unexpected opening could give citizens a chance to gain access to state power in a rich and highly-developed country. The financial crisis led to the failure of the three biggest Icelandic banks; Iceland itself had to be bailed out by the IMF and several European countries. After several weeks of protests, the heads of the Financial Supervisory Authority and the Central Bank were forced out, and the government resigned.
It was an awakening for concerned citizens—and they took action. Some developed online platforms to allow for direct democracy and citizen participation in political decision-making, others embarked in a citizen-led process to rewrite the country's constitution, and yet others created citizen political movements to run in parliamentary elections.
However, the inertia of the system and the resistance of some conservative parties and actors meant the online platforms only had an impact at the local level in Reykjavik, the newly written and progressive constitution hasn't yet been approved, and the citizen parties didn't gain enough power—and now some critics accuse them of having become institutionalized.
Still, many people think the atmosphere is different now. Even though people are much more calm, we're not taking to the streets with the pots and pans every day, there is a level of knowledge that the power is ours that was not there before … and that is really precious,
said Katrin Oddsdottir, a human rights lawyer and one of the citizens who wrote the new constitution. And I think the basic foundation is just this real deep love of democracy, seriously. It sounds corny, but I think it's like we have the power. It's like we have been living in a lie, but we were able to break it.
Citizen Political Platforms
The political game may or may not be rigged, but it's certainly skewed toward those with access to money, media visibility, and influence. And when public debate runs on sensationalist headlines and clickbait, extreme views tend to be favored.
To compete in such an environment, citizen political platforms need to be strictly nonpartisan and develop communities where members share a common vision and sense of mission. They need to be strategic, plan for the long term, and be ready to take risks and to compromise. They also have to develop proposals based on expertise, and to find ways to become sustainable and maintain momentum until their goals are reached.
Unless such citizen political engagement becomes a check on the excesses of electioneering and the rise of extremism, violence and conflict may instead become the continuation of politics by other means.
The Internet Government
Welcome to 21st Century Representation
This is a platform created to represent ideas themselves. We're looking to create a better process for policy-making, and by better we mean more objective, more transparent, & more inclusive. We mean a more rigorous process in the pursuit of truth, for everyone's benefit. It's politics without the politics - and without the politicians.
We're a non-profit, non-partisan, non-governmental program reinventing the legislative process. Why? We just think the whole business of creating public policy could be more transparent, difficult to the corrupt, and verifiably representative of everyone. It's a huge undertaking (and we encourage you to learn more about it below), but you can help us! So, join us, donate, follow us online, or get a citizenship to help out the cause!
The online E-Lightenment model: Abstract Meritocracy
By performing content analysis using a decentralized, anonymized, inter-coded, public-participatory framework, volunteers can help process qualitative data which informs arguments on all sides of debates on persistent human rights and resource issues. By breaking down the points made in any perspective, they can be reconstructed into more comprehensive argument frameworks, which are then presented as if they respond to each other; enabling the most comprehensive and complex debate on any important issue possible.
- Perspectives, not people
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The Internet Government is a system of representation of perspectives, not people. Your voice in place of a vote. Imagine if all socio-political perspectives, and all the research, reason, and rhetoric which supports them could directly debate each other. Instead of electing politicians to represent socio-political perspectives and carry out deliberations, people may directly upload their own perspectives to the system. The system manages how people operate within this bicameral inter-coding system to overcome the tyranny of the majority, corruption, collusion, and bias; welcoming a new age of reason.
- Merit, Not Majority
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Traditionally, decisions are made in a democracy by consensus of a majority, however in this system, decisions are made by meeting a more sophisticated mathematical threshold when legislation responds to arguments of merit on every side of an issue. Merit is assessed by assigning established classifications of logic, knowledge, evidence, etc., identified by anonymized, collaborative, content analysis coders working within a judicial-style hierarchical system. Merit is not to identify
debate winners
but to assist in curating legitimate arguments and identifying incorrigible conflicts in values to which legislation will have to respond. - programmed w/o politics
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We rely on politicians to articulate our views in government, but there are limits to how well representatives (and humans in general) can participate in meaningful, honest, unbiased, and thorough debate; instead, we can build radically inclusive argument frameworks, thereby creating the most complex and comprehensive public discourse on persisting human rights and resource issues possible. This open and inclusive process is not meant to identify winning platforms, but to produce superior legislative outcomes which respond to the needs of all perspectives expressed.
The Society Library
Our Big Sister The Society Library is watching, and we're watching back.
This is our 501(c)3 non-profit, educational parent organization. It is the closed, inter-coding, twin system which is to be compared to the conclusions of the public Internet Government system in order to discover inherent bias or possible collusion of the private and public groups despite the systems' structural defenses and redundancies. The Society Library publishes the collaborative content for educational purposes in a visually-navigable, contextual library which reimagines the presentation of information via search engines (the Internet Government manages input, the Society Library inter-codes, then delivers output). The Internet Government and Society Library manage ideological conflicts regarding the definition, distribution, and defense of persisting and pressing human rights and resource conflicts for educational and awareness purposes.
- Remove political partisanship from the conversation
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Ideas represented in this system are not identified by party affiliation unless an argument specifically relies on addressing one. Within this system, political parties are effectively abolished; respective ideas are represented as is.
- Create an alternative platform for representation
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In such a system, people can represent themselves directly by uploading their ideas into the system. People can replace federal legislative politicians as public servants by volunteering to help process data. This is closer to true self-governance
- Create a corruption-resilient public-policy producing engine
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Every decision made in the system (by meeting mathematical thresholds) is transparently displayed for public scrutiny. This is the equivalent to being able to witness every thought and conversation of a representative in government.
- Enable the most informed decisions possible
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There are limits to how much information humans (one on one or in groups) can intellectually process, ideate, and communicate. In a collaborative, inter-coded digital system, we can greatly expand those limits and make more informed decisions.
- enable more Effective socio-political Discourse
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Conflicting perspectives may be more easily distilled to their core logical or value-driven conflicts, therefore a greater focus may be applied to developing innovative solutions which respond to those conflicts.
- Centralizes educational resources to identify research opportunities
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In taking stock of knowledge contributing to argument frameworks, the system can serve to direct where further research or peer-review is needed on pertinent topics
- temper extreme political socialization
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Generationally inherited knowledge could become increasingly less asymmetrically influenced by sociological variables and/or thought-bubble online behaviors if a centralized source is created and widely accessible.
- Create useful tools for society as a whole
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This system could enable a given society to better examine, understand, and communicate with itself for the purpose of more sincere self-governance, with the intention of enabling better decisions (made more quickly) by recognizing patterns of thought.
Politics Without Politicians
Introduction
All over the world today most people mistrust most politicians.
Political scandals, conspiracies and corruption occur daily in every country and in every political party, hence most politicians are mistrusted even by their supporters. Many believe that politics necessarily breeds corruption (there's a well-known saying, All power corrupts
). No wonder many people mistrust not only politicians but politics itself.
Many refuse to vote. They no longer believe elections can make a significant change.
Non-voting for representatives is a vote of "no confidence" on rule by representatives.
Often people disgusted by most Politicians' duplicity seek trustworthy politicians. If they find some, those too eventually disappoint them. No wonder some believe a dictator should replace parliament. Others, rejecting dictators but seeing no alternative, give up and leave politics to politicians. This makes matters worse as politicians concerned more with their power than with the interests of society are left to run society.
Society Run by All Citizens
We shall explain how to run society by all citizens – not representatives - voting directly on policies rather than on politicians. When all citizens decide all policies politicians are redundant as their job is to decide for others. Politicians represent others. Authority to decide for others is Power
, and it is this Power - not politics – that breeds corruption. Abolishing authority to represent others will abolish corruption. When no one has the right to decide for others, politics will be purged of hipocricy, duplicity, and conspiracies. When all citizens decide all policies themselves we have a new political system called Direct Democracy (DD). In such a system no one decides for others, no one is paid for deciding policy, so costs of running society are greatly reduced, yet citizens' concern for their society rises.
No political system can cure all political problems. Belief in such a cure is a dangerous delusion. There is no such cure. Abolishing power will solve many political problems but not all of them. When every citizen can propose, debate and vote on every policy no one has authority to decide for others so politicians' power is abolished. Political power works like a drug. Those who get it - in any State, Church, municipality, school, or family - become addicted to it. They should be treated like addicts who do anything to get their drug.
Many politicians crave power for its own sake, but even the few who use it to improve society will do anything to hold on to it.
DD abolishes political power by forbidding anyone to decide for others.
In Direct Democracy no one decides for others. Every citizen can decides directly every policy. Every citizen has only one vote on every policy and represents him/herself only.
If a policy produces undesirable results, those who voted for it are responsible.
To prevent recurrence of bad results voters must discover what made them vote for a bad decision and reconsider their motives. This enables people to search for causes of political problems within themselves - not outside them - to find and overcome them.
Direct Democracy can be summed up thus: Every citizen has, at every moment, the authority to propose, debate, and vote for, every policy. This abolishes the political power of representatives, their authority to decide policy for others. In DIRECT democracy no one decides any policy for others. Every citizen has the right to propose, debate, and vote on every policy. Whether citizens use this right - or not - is up to them.
Why replacing politicians with experts is a reckless idea
Democracy is tired, vindictive, self-deceiving, paranoid, clumsy and frequently ineffectual. Much of the time it is living on past glories. This sorry state of affairs reflects what we have become. But current democracy is not who we are. It is just a system of government, which we built, and which we could replace. So why don't we replace it with something better?
This line of argument has grown louder in recent years, as democratic politics has become more unpredictable and, to many, deeply alarming in its outcomes. First Brexit, then Donald Trump, plus the rise of populism and the spread of division, has started a tentative search for plausible alternatives. But the rival systems we see around us have a very limited appeal. The unlovely forms of 21st-century authoritarianism can at best provide only a partial, pragmatic alternative to democracy. The world's strongmen still pander to public opinion, and in the case of competitive authoritarian regimes such as the ones in Hungary and Turkey, they persist with the rigmarole of elections. From Trump to Recep Tayyip Erdoğan is not much of a leap into a brighter future.
There is a far more dogmatic alternative, which has its roots in the 19th century. Why not ditch the charade of voting altogether? Stop pretending to respect the views of ordinary people – it's not worth it, since the people keep getting it wrong. Respect the experts instead! This is the truly radical option. So should we try it?
The name for this view of politics is epistocracy: the rule of the knowers. It is directly opposed to democracy, because it argues that the right to participate in political decision-making depends on whether or not you know what you are doing. The basic premise of democracy has always been that it doesn't matter how much you know: you get a say because you have to live with the consequences of what you do. In ancient Athens, this principle was reflected in the practice of choosing office-holders by lottery. Anyone could do it because everyone – well, everyone who wasn't a woman, a foreigner, a pauper, a slave or a child – counted as a member of the state. With the exception of jury service in some countries, we don't choose people at random for important roles any more. But we do uphold the underlying idea by letting citizens vote without checking their suitability for the task.
Critics of democracy – starting with Plato – have always argued that it means rule by the ignorant, or worse, rule by the charlatans that the ignorant people fall for. Living in Cambridge, a passionately pro-European town and home to an elite university, I heard echoes of that argument in the aftermath of the Brexit vote. It was usually uttered sotto voce – you have to be a brave person to come out as an epistocrat in a democratic society – but it was unquestionably there. Behind their hands, very intelligent people muttered to each other that this is what you get if you ask a question that ordinary people don't understand. Dominic Cummings, the author of the Take Back Control
slogan that helped win the referendum, found that his critics were not so shy about spelling it out to his face. Brexit happened, they told him, because the wicked people lied to the stupid people. So much for democracy.
To say that democrats want to be ruled by the stupid and the ignorant is unfair. No defender of democracy has ever claimed that stupidity or ignorance are virtues in themselves. But it is true that democracy doesn't discriminate on the grounds of a lack of knowledge. It considers the ability to think intelligently about difficult questions a secondary consideration. The primary consideration is whether an individual is implicated in the outcome. Democracy asks only that the voters should be around long enough to suffer for their own mistakes.
The question that epistocracy poses is: why don't we discriminate on the basis of knowledge? What's so special about letting everyone take part? Behind it lies the intuitively appealing thought that, instead of living with our mistakes, we should do everything in our power to prevent them in the first place – then it wouldn't matter who has to take responsibility.
This argument has been around for more than 2,000 years. For most of that time, it has been taken very seriously. The consensus until the end of the 19th century was that democracy is usually a bad idea: it is just too risky to put power in the hands of people who don't know what they are doing. Of course, that was only the consensus among intellectuals. We have little way of knowing what ordinary people thought about the question. Nobody was asking them.
Over the course of the 20th century, the intellectual consensus was turned around. Democracy established itself as the default condition of politics, its virtues far outweighing its weaknesses. Now the events of the 21st century have revived some of the original doubts. Democracies do seem to be doing some fairly stupid things at present. Perhaps no one will be able to live with their mistakes. In the age of Trump, climate change and nuclear weapons, epistocracy has teeth again.
Technocracy
So why don't we give more weight to the views of the people who are best qualified to evaluate what to do? Before answering that question, it is important to distinguish between epistocracy and something with which it is often confused: technocracy. They are different. Epistocracy means rule by the people who know best. Technocracy is rule by mechanics and engineers. A technocrat is someone who understands how the machinery works.
In November 2011, Greek democracy was suspended and an elected government was replaced by a cabinet of experts, tasked with stabilising the collapsing Greek economy before new elections could be held. This was an experiment in technocracy, however, not epistocracy. The engineers in this case were economists. Even highly qualified economists often haven't a clue what's best to do. What they know is how to operate a complex system that they have been instrumental in building – so long as it behaves the way it is meant to. Technocrats are the people who understand what's best for the machine. But keeping the machine running might be the worst thing we could do. Technocrats won't help with that question.
jBoth representative democracy and pragmatic authoritarianism have plenty of space for technocracy. Increasingly, each system has put decision-making capacity in the hands of specially trained experts, particularly when it comes to economic questions. Central bankers wield significant power in a wide variety of political systems around the world. For that reason, technocracy is not really an alternative to democracy. Like populism, it is more of an add-on. What makes epistocracy different is that it prioritises the right
decision over the technically correct decision. It tries to work out where we should be going. A technocrat can only tell us how we should get there.
How would epistocracy function in practice? The obvious difficulty is knowing who should count as the knowers. There is no formal qualification for being a general expert. It is much easier to identify a suitable technocrat. Technocracy is more like plumbing than philosophy. When Greece went looking for economic experts to sort out its financial mess, it headed to Goldman Sachs and the other big banks, since that is where the technicians were congregated. When a machine goes wrong, the people responsible for fixing it often have their fingerprints all over it already.
Choosing Whose Vote Counts: Mills
Historically, some epistocrats have tackled the problem of identifying who knows best by advocating non-technical qualifications for politics. If there were such a thing as the university of life, that's where these epistocrats would want political decision-makers to get their higher degrees. But since there is no such university, they often have to make do with cruder tests of competence. The 19th-century philosopher John Stuart Mill argued for a voting system that granted varying numbers of votes to different classes of people depending on what jobs they did. Professionals and other highly educated individuals would get six or more votes each; farmers and traders would get three or four; skilled labourers would get two; unskilled labourers would get one. Mill also pushed hard for women to get the vote, at a time when that was a deeply unfashionable view. He did not do this because he thought women were the equals of men. It was because he thought some women, especially the better educated, were superior to most men. Mill was a big fan of discrimination, so long as it was on the right grounds.
To 21st-century eyes, Mill's system looks grossly undemocratic. Why should a lawyer get more votes than a labourer? Mill's answer would be to turn the question on its head: why should a labourer get the same number of votes as a lawyer? Mill was no simple democrat, but he was no technocrat either. Lawyers didn't qualify for their extra votes because politics placed a special premium on legal expertise. No, lawyers got their extra votes because what's needed are people who have shown an aptitude for thinking about questions with no easy answers. Mill was trying to stack the system to ensure as many different points of view as possible were represented. A government made up exclusively of economists or legal experts would have horrified him. The labourer still gets a vote. Skilled labourers get two. But even though a task like bricklaying is a skill, it is a narrow one. What was needed was breadth. Mill believed that some points of view carried more weight simply because they had been exposed to more complexity along the way.
Choosing Whose Vote Counts: Jason Brennan
Jason Brennan, a very 21st-century philosopher, has tried to revive the epistocratic conception of politics, drawing on thinkers like Mill. In his 2016 book Against Democracy, Brennan insists that many political questions are simply too complex for most voters to comprehend. Worse, the voters are ignorant about how little they know: they lack the ability to judge complexity because they are so attached to simplistic solutions that feel right to them.
Brennan writes: Suppose the United States had a referendum on whether to allow significantly more immigrants into the country. Knowing whether this is a good idea requires tremendous social scientific knowledge. One needs to know how immigration tends to affect crime rates, domestic wages, immigrants' welfare, economic growth, tax revenues, welfare expenditures and the like. Most Americans lack this knowledge; in fact, our evidence is that they are systematically mistaken.
In other words, it's not just that they don't know; it's not even that they don't know that they don't know; it's that they are wrong in ways that reflect their unwavering belief that they are right.
Brennan doesn't have Mill's faith that we can tell how well-equipped someone is to tackle a complex question by how difficult that person's job is. There is too much chance and social conditioning involved. He would prefer an actual exam, to screen out citizens who are badly misinformed or ignorant about the election, or who lack basic social scientific knowledge
. Of course, this just pushes the fundamental problem back a stage without resolving it: who gets to set the exam? Brennan teaches at a university, so he has little faith in the disinterested qualities of most social scientists, who have their own ideologies and incentives. He has also seen students cramming for exams, which can produce its own biases and blind spots. Still, he thinks Mill was right to suggest that the further one advances up the educational ladder, the more votes one should get: five extra votes for finishing high school, another five for a bachelor's degree, and five more for a graduate degree.
Brennan is under no illusions about how provocative this case is today, 150 years after Mill made it. In the middle of the 19th century, the idea that political status should track social and educational standing was barely contentious; today, it is barely credible. Brennan also has to face the fact that contemporary social science provides plenty of evidence that the educated are just as subject to groupthink as other people, sometimes even more so. The political scientists Larry Bartels and Christopher Achen point this out in their 2016 book Democracy for Realists: The historical record leaves little doubt that the educated, including the highly educated, have gone wrong in their moral and political thinking as often as everyone else.
Cognitive biases are no respecters of academic qualifications. How many social science graduates would judge the question about immigration according to the demanding tests that Brennan lays out, rather than according to what they would prefer to believe? The irony is that if Brennan's voter exam were to ask whether the better-educated deserve more votes, the technically correct answer might be no. It would depend on who was marking it.
However, in one respect Brennan insists that the case for epistocracy has grown far stronger since Mill made it. That is because Mill was writing at the dawn of democracy. Mill published his arguments in the run-up to what became the Second Reform Act of 1867, which doubled the size of the franchise in Britain to nearly 2.5 million voters (out of a general population of 30 million). Mill's case for epistocracy was based on his conviction that over time it would merge into democracy. The labourer who gets one vote today would get more tomorrow, once he had learned how to use his vote wisely. Mill was a great believer in the educative power of democratic participation.
Brennan thinks we now have 100-plus years of evidence that Mill was wrong. Voting is bad for us. It doesn't make people better informed. If anything, it makes them stupider, because it dignifies their prejudices and ignorance in the name of democracy. Political participation is not valuable for most people,
Brennan writes. On the contrary, it does most of us little good and instead tends to stultify and corrupt us. It turns us into civic enemies who have grounds to hate one another.
The trouble with democracy is that it gives us no reason to become better informed. It tells us we are fine as we are. And we're not.
In the end, Brennan's argument is more historical than philosophical. If we were unaware of how democracy would turn out, it might make sense to cross our fingers and assume the best of it. But he insists that we do know, and so we have no excuse to keep kidding ourselves. Brennan thinks that we should regard epistocrats like himself as being in the same position as democrats were in the mid-19th century. What he is championing is anathema to many people, as democracy was back then. Still, we took a chance on democracy, waiting to see how it would turn out. Why shouldn't we take a chance on epistocracy, now we know how the other experiment went? Why do we assume that democracy is the only experiment we are ever allowed to run, even after it has run out of steam?
Keeping Democracy is Cautious
It's a serious question, and it gets to how the longevity of democracy has stifled our ability to think about the possibility of something different. What was once a seemingly reckless form of politics has become a byword for caution. And yet there are still good reasons to be cautious about ditching it. Epistocracy remains the reckless idea. There are two dangers in particular.
The first is that we set the bar too high in politics by insisting on looking for the best thing to do. Sometimes it is more important to avoid the worst. Even if democracy is often bad at coming up with the right answers, it is good at unpicking the wrong ones. Moreover, it is good at exposing people who think they always know best. Democratic politics assumes there is no settled answer to any question and it ensures that is the case by allowing everyone a vote, including the ignorant. The randomness of democracy – which remains its essential quality – protects us against getting stuck with truly bad ideas. It means that nothing will last for long, because something else will come along to disrupt it.
Epistocracy is flawed because of the second part of the word rather than the first – this is about power (
Brennan's response to this argument (a version of which is made by David Estlund in his 2007 book Democratic Authority) is to turn it on its head. Since democracy is a form of
The democratic case against epistocracy is a version of the democratic case against pragmatic authoritarianism. You have to ask yourself where you'd rather be when things go wrong. Maybe things will go wrong quicker and more often in a democracy, but that is a different issue. Rather than thinking of democracy as the least worst form of politics, we could think of it as the best when at its worst. It is the difference between Winston Churchill's famous dictum and a similar one from Alexis de Tocqueville a hundred years earlier that is less well-known but more apposite. More fires get started in a democracy, de Tocqueville said, but more fires get put out, too.
The recklessness of epistocracy is also a function of the historical record that Brennan uses to defend it. A century or more of democracy may have uncovered its failings, but they have also taught us that we can live with them. We are used to the mess and attached to the benefits. Being an epistocrat like Mill before democracy had got going is very different from being one now that democracy is well established. We now know what we know, not just about democracy's failings, but about our tolerance for its incompetences.
The great German sociologist Max Weber, writing at the turn of the 20th century, took it for granted that universal suffrage was a dangerous idea, because of the way that it empowered the mindless masses. But he argued that once it had been granted, no sane politician should ever think about taking it away: the backlash would be too terrible. The only thing worse than letting everyone vote is telling some people that they no longer qualify. Never mind who sets the exam, who is going to tell us that we've failed? Mill was right: democracy comes after epistocracy, not before. You can't run the experiment in reverse.
The cognitive biases that epistocracy is meant to rescue us from are what will ultimately scupper it. Loss aversion makes it more painful to be deprived of something we have that doesn't always work than something we don't have that might. It's like the old joke. Q: Do you know the way to Dublin?
A: Well, I wouldn't start from here.
How do we get to a better politics? Well, maybe we shouldn't start from here. But here is where we are.
Alternatives to Voting: AI Nigel
Still, there must be other ways of trying to inject more wisdom into democratic politics than an exam. This is the 21st century: we have new tools to work with. If many of the problems with democracy derive from the business of politicians hawking for votes at election time, which feeds noise and bile into the decision-making process, perhaps we should try to simulate what people would choose under more sedate and reflective conditions. For instance, it may be possible to extrapolate from what is known about voters' interests and preferences what they ought to want if they were better able to access the knowledge they needed. We could run mock elections that replicate the input from different points of view, as happens in real elections, but which strip out all the distractions and distortions of democracy in action.
Brennan suggests the following: We can administer surveys that track citizens' political preferences and demographic characteristics, while testing their basic objective political knowledge. Once we have this information, we can simulate what would happen if the electorate's demographics remained unchanged, but all citizens were able to get perfect scores on tests of objective political knowledge. We can determine, with a strong degree of confidence, what 'We the People' would want, if only 'We the People' understood what we were talking about.
Democratic dignity – the idea that all citizens should be allowed to express their views and have them taken seriously by politicians – goes out the window under such a system. We are each reduced to data points in a machine-learning exercise. But, according to Brennan, the outcomes should improve.
In 2017, a US-based digital technology company called Kimera Systems announced that it was close to developing an AI named Nigel, whose job was to help voters know how they should vote in an election, based on what it already knew of their personal preferences. Its creator, Mounir Shita, declared: Nigel tries to figure out your goals and what reality looks like to you and is constantly assimilating paths to the future to reach your goals. It's constantly trying to push you in the right direction.
This is the more personalised version of what Brennan is proposing, with some of the democratic dignity plugged back in. Nigel is not trying to work out what's best for everyone, only what's best for you. It accepts your version of reality. Yet Nigel understands that you are incapable of drawing the correct political inferences from your preferences. You need help, from a machine that has seen enough of your personal behaviour to understand what it is you are after. Siri recommends books you might like. Nigel recommends political parties and policy positions.
Would this be so bad? To many people it instinctively sounds like a parody of democracy because it treats us like confused children. But to Shita it is an enhancement of democracy because it takes our desires seriously. Democratic politicians don't much care what it is that we actually want. They care what it is they can persuade us we want, so they can better appeal to it. Nigel puts the voter first. At the same time, by protecting us from our own confusion and inattention, Nigel strives to improve our self-understanding. Brennan's version effectively gives up on Mill's original idea that voting might be an educative experience. Shita hasn't given up. Nigel is trying to nudge us along the path to self-knowledge. We might end up learning who we really are.
The fatal flaw with this approach, however, is that we risk learning only who it is we think we are, or who it is we would like to be. Worse, it is who we would like to be now, not who or what we might become in the future. Like focus groups, Nigel provides a snapshot of a set of attitudes at a moment in time. The danger of any system of machine learning is that it produces feedback loops. By restricting the dataset to our past behaviour, Nigel teaches us nothing about what other people think, or even about other ways of seeing the world. Nigel simply mines the archive of our attitudes for the most consistent expression of our identities. If we lean left, we will end up leaning further left. If we lean right, we will end up leaning further right. Social and political division would widen. Nigel is designed to close the circle in our minds.
There are technical fixes for feedback loops. Systems can be adjusted to inject alternative points of view, to notice when data is becoming self-reinforcing or simply to randomise the evidence. We can shake things up to lessen the risk that we get set in our ways. For instance, Nigel could make sure that we visit websites that challenge rather than reinforce our preferences. Alternatively, on Brennan's model, the aggregation of our preferences could seek to take account of the likelihood that Nigel had exaggerated rather than tempered who we really are. A Nigel of Nigels – a machine that helps other machines to better align their own goals – could try to strip out the distortions from the artificial democracy we have built. After all, Nigel is our servant, not our master. We can always tell him what to do.
But that is the other fundamental problem with 21st-century epistocracy: we won't be the ones telling Nigel what to do. It will be the technicians who have built the system. They are the experts we rely on to rescue us from feedback loops. For this reason, it is hard to see how 21st-century epistocracy can avoid collapsing back into technocracy. When things go wrong, the knowers will be powerless to correct for them. Only the engineers who built the machines have that capacity, which means that it will be the engineers who have the power.
Capitalism*
Perfect Knowledge*
Why Not Capitalism?*
Redistribution
When philosophers, social scientists, and politicians seek to determine the justice of institutional arrangements, their discussions have often taken the form of questioning whether and under what circumstances the redistribution of wealth or other valuable goods is justified. This section examines the different ways in which redistribution can be understood, the diverse political contexts in which it has been employed, and whether or not it is a useful concept for exploring questions of distributive justice.
Distributive Justice and Redistribution
The concept of distributive justice is sometimes understood as the moral assessment of distributions, or as the moral assessment of individual or collective decisions in light of how they affect distributions. Since the publication of Rawls's Theory of Justice, however, discussions of distributive justice have tended to focus more narrowly on the moral assessment of systems of social rules in light of how they affect distributions. These distributions affecting institutions include laws and other social rules governing what kinds of things can be owned (and by whom), how they can be acquired, transferred, relinquished, and forfeited, how markets and the production systems are structured, the manner in which decisions concerning trade policy and the monetary system are made, and so on. Because international institutions such as markets in capital and labor, the structure of property rights, the international trading regimes (including the World Trade Organization), the international financial institutions marked by the agreement of Bretton Woods, and other complex systems of international rules can also be assessed in terms of their effects on distributions, talk of 'international' or 'global' distributive justice has more recently become more prominent in political theory (Beitz 1979, Caney 2005, Hinsch 2001, Miller 2007).
The concept of redistribution has been invoked extensively in discussions of distributive justice in both the domestic and global context. Indeed, the differences between popular recent approaches to distributive justice, such as libertarianism, prioritarianism, and so-called luck egalitarianism, are sometimes characterized in terms of their attitudes towards redistribution (Scheffler 2003). Even when non-philosophers debate the justice of distributions, or of distribution affecting institutional arrangements, their discussions often take the form of questioning whether and under what circumstances the 'redistribution' of wealth is justified. Extreme poverty in developed and developing countries, for example, has led many to question whether affluent people or countries can and ought to 'help' or 'aid' the poor by redistributing resources to them, and whether they can be compelled by law to do so (for example, through the tax system) (Narveson 2002, 2003).
Given its robust role in discussions of distributive justice, it is unsurprising that disagreements concerning the permissibility of redistribution have often been quite heated. Robert Nozick (1974, p 169) for example, has argued that redistribution in the form of compulsory taxation is morally on par with forced labor.
And he has famously criticized egalitarian principles of distributive justice, such as Rawls's difference principle (which categorizes as unjust any national economic order generating inequalities that are not to the greatest benefit of the lowest socio-economic position) on the grounds that they would require extensive redistributive transfers. In this vein, critics of so-called redistributive policies often claim that while individuals may have positive ethical duties to aid poor or unwell persons, it is morally impermissible to compel them to do so through state-administered tax and transfer or other means, unless universal consent for these policies can be secured (Narveson 2001, ch. 17). Egalitarians, on the other hand, have often argued that redistribution through compulsory taxation and other coercively imposed measures is required to meet basic material needs or to promote other valuable social goals, and provide a legitimate, though perhaps not morally costless means of doing so.
This essay aims to clarify and evaluate some of these disagreements by exploring the many different senses in which the concept of redistribution has been used. It also indicates some of the confusions to which equivocation among different senses of this concept has led. It concludes that the use of the concept of redistribution has tended to obscure rather than clarify the true nature of substantive disagreements about distributive justice.
Two kinds of questions concerning redistribution can be identified:
- Meaning/Status: What does 'redistribution' mean? Does it have a unified and coherent meaning? What kind of a term is 'redistribution': Is it purely descriptive, so that we can classify practices as redistributive without evaluating them? Or does the correct application of the term, like democracy, liberty, and perhaps also coercion depend on evaluative judgments? To what kinds of social practices does redistribution refer, and in what sense are these practices redistributive? Does the concept of redistribution provide a helpful framework for understanding and evaluating institutional arrangements, or does it invite confusion?
- Moral Significance: Can social practices that are commonly said to involve redistribution be justified? In what contexts and for what purposes is it permissible to adopt these practices? Does the fact that a social practice involves redistribution count for or against it, or does it lack basic moral significance?
We might begin to address these questions by looking more closely at the structure of the concept of redistribution.
The concept of redistribution can be characterized in terms of four parameters. (1) The subjects, such as individual persons or rigidly and non-rigidly defined groups whose holdings of goods are modified through the redistribution; (2) The baseline, the initial distribution of goods to which some other distribution is seen as a redistributive modification; (3) The social mechanism, such as a change in tax laws, monetary policies, or tort law, that engenders the redistribution of goods among these subjects; and (4) the goods, such as income and property (or perhaps opportunities and liberties), that are redistributed through this mechanism.
In assessing whether and how redistribution has occurred, then, the following four questions must be answered:
- Among which (if any) subjects did the redistribution take place?
- Which (if any) baseline can be defined, of which the present distribution can be seen as a modification?
- Through which (if any) social mechanism was the redistribution brought about?
- Which (if any) goods have been redistributed?
Redistribution refers to modifications of the holdings of particular persons, collective agents, or groups (as defined in terms of non-resource holding characteristics), or changes in holdings by groups (as defined by resource holdings). Sometimes those from and to whom resources are redistributed are defined as individuals, other times as groups to which individuals are rigidly assigned (for example, Whites and Hispanics), and other times to groups that are defined by their holdings (for example, the top and bottom quintile). We can identify patterns in terms of rigidly identifiable persons (John and Sally) or groups (Whites and Hispanics) or, alternatively, 'anonymously' (for example, as a percentile graph or Lorenz curve). We can imagine a scenario in which, pursuant to some institutional reform, the average holdings of the richest quintile and the poorest quintile shift from <5,3> at time t1 to <6,2> at time t2, while the average holdings of Whites and Hispanics or the actual holdings of John and Sally remain unchanged. Whether redistribution has occurred, then, can only be determined relative to the set of subjects that is identified.
Discussions of redistribution are not always very specific about which kinds of subjects they are concerned with, or about the possible significance of the fact that policies will be more or less redistributive depending on how these subjects are defined. Take, for example, the following claim by Harvard economist Richard Freeman (1999, p. 12), who claims that a set of policies he proposes will result in substantial income redistribution from those who have gained so much in the past 15 to 20 years… for it results in improving the living standards of those now at or near the bottom.
The referent of 'those', in both the first and second clauses, could be understood as picking out groups of specific individuals (a set of proper names), or group statistical aggregates (the top or bottom quintile). If the claim refers to groups of particular individuals, then lack of change in the pattern of holdings between the top and bottom income quintiles needn't mean that no redistribution has taken place. If substantial numbers of people have moved up or down, then redistribution (in this sense) has taken place. My focus in this entry will be on the issue of the baseline, since this seems most fundamental.
The Baseline Distribution
Talk of redistribution implies a baseline, some distribution to which another distribution can be compared. We can explore this concept by examining the different baselines that are implicitly or explicitly adopted when people claim that redistribution has taken place. Once these baseline distributions are clarified, questions regarding the meaning and moral significance of redistribution can be more easily addressed.
Diachronic Redistribution
The baseline distribution can be specified diachronically, in terms of some distribution that held at an earlier time. Economists, for example, often refer to policies as having redistributive effects when they engender a different pattern of holdings than obtained previously. Redistribution of wealth, in this sense, occurs whenever there is a shift in patterns of holdings over time (among some set of subjects) in response to some policy or other social mechanism. On this understanding, we can determine whether redistribution has taken place by identifying (1) a pattern of holdings at time t1 that characterizes the initial distribution; (2) a pattern of holdings at time t2 that characterizes the later distribution; and (3) some policy or other social mechanism that, intentionally or not, caused the change in patterns of holdings between t1 and t2. Let us call redistribution that invokes a diachronically specified baseline diachronic redistribution. Diachronic redistribution can be brought about through many different means, including the reform of social institutions (for example, torts, rules governing competition, trade and tax policy, or the structure of markets in capital and labor), changes in the prevailing social ethos, or specific market or other interventions by governments.
Purposive Diachronic Redistribution
Redistribution is often understood more narrowly, referring only to socially caused changes in patterns of holdings over time that are implemented (at least in part) for the very reason that they are likely to bring about these changes. Let us refer to redistribution in this sense as purposive diachronic redistribution.
Purposive diachronic redistribution is usually associated with (but is certainly not limited to) changes in systems of taxation and property rights. Changes in the structure of markets, the production system, monetary policy, the allocation of public funds for primary and secondary education, or the level of the minimum wage have all been adopted at least partly for the purpose of bringing about changes in the pattern of holdings. In a recent study, for instance, Alberto Alesina et al. (1999) have argued that Italy's practice of heavily concentrating public sector jobs in the poorer Southern regions is redistributive in that it is adopted for the purpose of creating a more egalitarian distribution of economic opportunities between Northern and Southern Italy. Purposive diachronic redistribution involves the successful implementation of institutions and policies whose purpose is to bring about changes in the holdings of different subjects. On this interpretation, determining whether redistribution has taken place involves identifying (1) the holdings of a set of subjects at time t1; (2) the holdings of these subjects after the policy or institutional changes at t2; (3) an agent or set of agents who have enacted the policy or institutional changes that have engendered changes in holdings; and (4) the purposes of these agents in bringing these changes about.
It will not always be easy to identify whether redistribution in this sense has occurred, since the purposes of those who choose and implement policies are often opaque, and also because changes in policies and institutions result from collective decisions involving many agents with diverse and often conflicting purposes. Former U.S. President Clinton's 1996 minimum wage legislation, for example, appears to have marginally increased the holdings of workers at the bottom quintile of the income distribution. Whether this was an instance of purposive diachronic redistribution is less clear. It may have been part of an overall plan to improve the position of the least advantaged. Or, instead of reflecting a systematic attempt to intervene on behalf of those at the low end of the labor market, the purpose of the legislation may have been to appease organized labor and a generally dissatisfied public. Still other policies may be adopted for the purpose of bringing about changes in the patterns of holdings, but fail to do so, either because of internal flaws in the policies themselves, or because of countervailing pressure from other factors.
Redistribution as Taking
Sometimes redistribution is taken to refer to a particular social mechanism for bringing about changes in holdings overtime — namely, when there has been some prior distribution of resources, and those particular resources have been taken away from some of those who initially possessed them and given to others. Let us refer to this second diachronic understanding as redistribution as taking. Identifying instances of redistribution as purposive taking requires specifying (1) a set of holdings of some rigidly identifiable agents (a, b, c) that obtains at time t1; (2) the set of the holdings of these agents that obtains after the policy or institutional changes have been enacted at time t2; and (3) the agent(s) that have taken the holdings of some of these agents and distributed them to other of these agents.
Expropriation is a clear and familiar case of redistribution as taking. Some local government agency, for example, may expropriate a condominium from the Jones family without compensation and subsequently transfer the condominium to the Matua family. In this example, a good that was initially in the possession of some person or persons is taken out of their possession by some agent (perhaps by force or with the threat of force) and given to someone else. Land reform policies and some forms of taxation also appear to involve redistribution as taking. It is worth noting, however, that many purportedly 'redistributive' practices do not involve taking. Income tax, for instance, which is commonly thought to involve 'redistribution as taking', does not typically confiscate income that was initially in the possession of the taxpayer, since it is usually withheld from pay.
The Status and Moral Significance of Diachronic Redistribution
What kind of concept is redistribution when used in the senses defined above? All of these understandings of redistribution are purely descriptive. We needn't evaluate a pattern change, a purposive pattern change, or a taking to identify them. These understandings identify distinct but partially overlapping sets of practices and actions as redistributive. Some policies and institutional changes, for example, may involve redistribution in all of these senses. Take, for instance, Taiwan, which, in the course of a decade, radically reduced levels of income inequality — thereby involving a case of diachronic redistribution. Some studies (e.g., Kuo et al. 1984) suggest that these pattern changes were at least partly the intent of a package of policies that included agricultural reform and increased expenditure on health and education — thereby exhibiting purposive diachronic redistribution. And among the most important agricultural reforms were changes in land distribution — thereby involving redistribution as taking.
In other cases it may be unclear whether redistribution occurred in any of these three senses. Take, for example, the question of whether income redistribution occurred in the United States between 1979 and 1987, accepting as true the findings of a U.S. congressional study (released in March, 1989) which claimed that the average family net income of the poorest fifth of the American population declined by over 6 percent from 1979 to 1987, while it rose by over 11 percent for the richest fifth, and that personal income declined by 9.8 percent for the poorest fifth while rising 15.6 percent for the richest fifth. With respect to income quintiles, it seems very likely that diachronic income redistribution occurred between 1979 and 1987 — but only very likely, since it is possible in principle to deny that the income shifts among quintiles were caused by the policies adopted by the Reagan Administration or through other social mechanisms. As noted above, the term 'redistribution' is usually taken to require some social mechanism that, whether intentionally or not, causes the shift.
With respect to purposive diachronic redistribution, matters are still less clear, since in the case at hand it is hard to determine whether or not officials in the Reagan Administration intended that their policies should have these effects. And the congressional study provides no information about whether purposive taking occurred, since it refers only to income quintiles, which are non-rigidly defined.
It is hard to see how redistribution in any of the diachronic senses could have any basic moral significance. That is, that some social reform involves redistribution in this sense would not as such count for or against it. Different institutional arrangements, policies, conventions, and individual behaviors will tend to produce different patterns of holdings. Each set of patterns of holdings engendered by changes in these factors can be viewed as redistributive relative to others, and whether a policy is redistributive will depend only on when it is adopted and which policies prevailed beforehand. Surely, some will do better after a policy or institutional change than they fared before it — but this is not in itself an objection to it. Similarly, though we may of course have grounds for criticizing the particular kinds of patterns that public officials intend to bring about, or for finding these policies objectionable on other grounds (for example, if they are intended to discriminate arbitrarily against minorities or other groups that are socially disfavored), the mere fact that a policy is adopted for the purpose of bringing about changes in patterns of holdings does not count for or against it.
Purposive taking may appear to have basic moral significance, such that the fact that a policy involves purposive taking always counts against it. The thought here would be that we tend to develop plans and projects based on things in our physical possession — and it therefore seems wrong to us if these goods are expropriated from us and given to others. But our assessments of takings seem to depend wholly on background facts. With respect to the expropriated condominium discussed above, for example, our assessment of whether or not the Joneses' rights were violated or infringed, or their interests unfairly harmed would seem to depend on the answers to three interconnected questions:
- Did the Jones family acquire the condominium that the government has redistributed through legitimate means?
- If the answer to 1 was 'yes', did the Jones family acquire a claim to exclusive and enduring use of the condominium?
- If the answer to 1 or 2 was 'no', was the government agency that carried out the expropriation exercising right authority in so doing?
We can see the relevance of these considerations by imagining contexts in which the Jones family has stolen the condominium, or perhaps signed a time-sharing agreement, which entitle them to exclusive use of it only for two months of each year. Regardless of their deep attachment to the condominium, or the unpleasantness of having physical possessions forcefully expropriated, their interests are not unfairly harmed since they lack valid moral claims to its exclusive and enduring use.
This example shows that whether takings are morally problematic depends not on facts about the initial physical distribution of goods, but on whether these actions take from or give to people or groups things that are rightfully in their possession. The initial possession of goods raises questions about subsequent transfers only if the initial possession is rightful rather than merely physical. Indeed, where possessions have been acquired through unjust processes, purposive takings may be required to restore rightful possession. Hillel Steiner (1994), for example, has recently argued that a bloody history of conquest, theft, and unilateral and disproportionate appropriation of land amounts to the imposition of an unjust distribution of resources that can be remedied only by taking and redistributing resources and, where impracticable, by a 'redress fund' that compensates those who are excluded from the use of natural and other resources.
That purposive takings have no basic moral significance can be shown in another way. Some taxes are lawfully withheld from pay while others are lawfully 'taken' after income is in the possession of the taxpayer. In either case, people have enduring legal entitlements to their net rather than their gross incomes. Yet it seems that these contingent facts about different income tax systems could not possibly make any significant difference to our normative assessment of them. Whether a tax can be morally justified depends, therefore, not on whether it involves a redistributive taking, but whether it is compatible with a plausible account of the processes by which people can acquire valid moral claims to things. There are, of course, reasons for considering certain economic systems just, and others unjust, but the fact that these systems involve redistribution in the diachronic sense does not in itself seem to be relevant to these assessments.
Synchronic Comparisons
The baseline distribution can also be specified synchronically, by comparing the prevailing distribution to a distribution that would have held had different circumstances obtained. Since circumstance could have differed in many ways, judging whether redistribution in this sense has occurred will require identifying a more specific subjunctive baseline situation that can serve as the basis for these assessments.
With respect to the question of whether the redistribution of income occurred in the U.S. between 1979 and 1987, for example, we might specify the subjunctive baseline scenario in terms of what income distribution would have been like (1) had policy changes, such as tax cuts, reduction of commercial regulations, and increases in military expenditure not been implemented; (2) had there been no income tax; (3) had all persons and groups received what they contributed to production; (4) had all persons received their gross incomes minus what is required to cover the costs of the public benefits that they have received and the value that they have extracted from the commons; or (5) what they would have received had their holdings reflected what they were entitled to.
Unmoralized Subjunctive Baselines
Let us first examine the subjunctively defined baselines (1)-(3). Determining whether redistribution occurred relative to each of these baselines can be extremely difficult in practice, since the counterfactuals upon which they depend are quite complex. This is not always adequately recognized. It is sometimes assumed, for example, that baseline (2) is identical to the pattern of gross (pre-tax) incomes, so that difference between gross and net income will count as redistributed income according to it. But this is mistaken. The presence or absence of income tax will itself substantially influence many market outcomes, including the availability of economic opportunities to persons with different sets of skills and personal characteristics, and the gross incomes that can be earned in different jobs. Had no income tax been in place, altogether different jobs and economic opportunities would most likely have existed, and gross incomes would most likely have been very different. Indeed, it is extremely hard even to venture a guess at what distribution of income would have obtained had there been no income tax. Identifying the set of holdings that would obtain in the subjunctive baseline scenario invoked by (3) is even more problematic. This is because there is no obvious way of determining how much some individual has contributed to production. Even examples that involve one person producing something from a set of raw materials without the help of others — it is not obvious how to separate out how much of the produced good is due to Crusoe's contribution and how much to the materials themselves. In cases of interdependent production, things become even more difficult, since there is usually no non-arbitrary way of determining the contributions of different factors of production (for example, labor, capital, raw materials, so-called public goods, and so on) that jointly lead to total output. It is sometimes claimed that using a person's marginal product as a proxy for what they have contributed to production can circumvent these problems. But this, too, is mistaken. First, in conditions where there are increasing or decreasing returns to scale, not everyone will be able to receive what they contribute. Where there are increasing returns to scale, for example, it will be impossible for people to receive what they contribute at the margins since the marginal return is greater than the average. Second, while assessments of the marginal productivity of different inputs can be useful for deciding how to use additional resources so as to maximize profit, they do not show how much each resource has produced as a proportion of the total output.
Putting aside the manifest difficulties involved in characterizing the pattern of holdings that would obtain in these subjunctive baselines, would the fact that redistribution has occurred relative to any of them count for or against them as such? With respect to (1) and (2) the answer is 'no.' The mere fact that some policy change leads to a different pattern of holdings than would have obtained had it not been implemented provides no reason to reject it. Similarly, that a pattern of holdings differs from the pattern that would have obtained in the absence of any taxation would not in itself seem to give us reason to look upon the pattern of holdings that obtain with the tax positively or negatively. In both of these cases, our assessment of the policies should be based upon what we take to be their other morally relevant features, such as whether the changes they bring about further disadvantage vulnerable groups, lead to greater suffering, infringe people's justified claims to things, and so on. (3), on the other hand, may appear to have basic moral significance. For although few would insist that all should receive exactly what they contributed to production, or that valuable social goals ought never to be pursued when they require that some receive more or less than what they contributed, many might feel that an economic system in which people regularly receive much less than what they contribute to production would be unjust.
But granting basic moral significance to the set of holdings that would have obtained had all received what they contributed to production is less plausible than it may initially appear. First, the intuition that people should receive in income something close to what they contribute to production seems crucially to depend on the overall background fairness of the social system in which production takes place. If, for example, a society allowed educational opportunities for technical training only to members of certain ethnic groups, or if poorly designed education system puts these opportunities out of reach for the vast majority of people, then the fact that those who received such training might then be able to contribute more to production would not seem to entitle them to proportionally higher incomes. Second, the contribution of some person to total output will depend not only on the value of their labor, but also on the value of the resources that they own. And the claim that owners of resources should receive the marginal contribution of their resources to production is especially problematic: The existing distribution of such resources is tainted by its historical evolution. And the purported moral right to full control over what one owns is rather more tenuous than the moral right fully to control one's natural endowments. As Sen (1982, p. 4) has put it, The moral appeal of giving more — in (P.T.) Bauer's words — to 'those who are more productive and contribute more to output' does not readily translate into giving more to 'those who own more productive resources which contribute more to output'.
Moralized Subjunctive Baselines
Discussions of redistribution have often focused on the permissibility of levying taxes. And it may therefore be tempting simply to identify the baseline with pretax income. Not all taxes, however, are generally considered redistributive. Indeed, economists and legal theorists have typically distinguished between 'redistributive' and 'benefit' taxation. Benefit taxes are typically understood (Biehl 1982, Cappelen 2000) as user charges: taxes that are paid to cover the costs of the use of public and private goods, services, and enabling social conditions (for example, security, the legal system, social cohesion, public health) that are secured by the government or taxing authority.
These taxes are, in effect, user charges. Redistributive taxation is also commonly distinguished from Pigouvian (after the economist Arthur Pigou), or what might most aptly called 'compensation' taxes, which pay for harms that persons cause to the environment or to other people through their activities. Taxes on carbon emissions, maritime dumping, non-renewable resource extraction, and even currency transactions, have often been characterized in this way. Let us call this understanding 'redistribution as tax and transfer'.
Determining whether tax-and-transfer has occurred requires identifying (1) the extent of the benefits enjoyed by different people within a social system (or the costs that they have imposed on others); (2) the costs of providing these benefits or averting imposed costs; and (3) the contribution of each person to the provision of social benefits and compensation for costs imposed. Redistributive tax-and-transfer occurs whenever people have paid taxes that are above and beyond what is required to cover the costs of the public benefits that they have received and the costs they have imposed on others.
Sometimes the baseline that is invoked in claims that redistributive policies are undertaken is the set of holdings that would have obtained had they received that to which they were entitled. Redistribution, then, is understood as the transfer of holdings that infringes property rights. In this sense, of course, resources could be redistributed from taxpayers to recipients without the taxpayers ever having these resources in their physical possession at all. Though people normally get a paycheck for their net income, and thus never have access to their gross income, they do, according to some, have a claim to their gross income, and thus the difference between gross and net income represents the transfer of holdings to which they were entitled. We can call this interpretation of redistribution 'rights-infringing transfers'. Determinations of whether rights infringing transfers have occurred will clearly depend upon an account of the nature and scope of property rights. This requires specifying (1) who has the right; (2) what the right is a right to (the object of the right); and (3) the kinds of obligations that others have to the right-holder as a result of the right.
Would the fact that a practice involves redistribution as tax and transfer or rights' infringement be of basic moral significance? Most seem to agree that it would. Indeed, the debate between Nozick and his egalitarian critics has generally related to whether a policy's being redistributive in either of these senses provides a decisive moral reason to reject them. Nozick (1974, p.ix) has (along with other libertarians) claimed that it does, objecting, The state may not use its coercive apparatus for the purpose of getting some citizens to aid others.
Nozick's egalitarian critics have insisted that such practices may be a regrettable necessity. Thomas Scanlon (1981, p. 199), for instance, has argued: It may be true, as Nozick claims, that there is a continuum of interferences extending from taxation to forced labor, each foreclosing a few more options than the preceding. But the fact that there is such a continuum is no reason why we must be indifferent between any two points along it.
And Thomas Nagel (1981, p. 201) adds that there is a big difference between suddenly expropriating half of someone's savings and attaching monetary conditions in advance to activities, expenditures, and earnings — the usual form of taxation. The latter is a much less brutal assault upon the person.
Both sides of this debate err, however, by simply assuming that welfare and other social programs are redistributive in either of these senses. It is often claimed, for example, that welfare and other social programs are clear examples of tax-and-transfer, because such programs are usually funded by revenues that are raised from those who will seldom, if ever, make use of them. But this assumes an overly narrow understanding of how people can benefit from such programs. In particular, it overlooks the indirect benefits that these programs provide to those who fund them. Programs that provide a decent social minimum, for example, may protect those who fund them from higher crime rates, or promote higher growth rates, a better educated labor force, and other social goods that benefit them in many ways (Murphy & Nagel 2003, Chapter 4). Suppose, however, that those who pay taxes that support a social minimum can insulate themselves from the risks of crime, or are unaffected by the other social benefits engendered by these programs. Would this show that the taxes that they pay to support these programs are redistributive? Perhaps, but it could also be plausibly claimed that insofar as they do not support such programs, their remaining taxes help to support a set of institutional arrangements that harm those that suffer from significant deprivations. Take, for example a social system that features a market economy whose structure tends to produce significant inequality and poverty. Under this system, many lack — through no fault of their own — access to basic educational opportunities, health care, and the foodstuffs required for them to meet their minimal nutritional needs. Some would argue that insofar as those who are extremely badly-off are not compensated or efforts are not made to provide them with enhanced opportunities, they are harmed by the social system. Those who support the social system by paying taxes, complying with its rules, and through other means are thus harming, rather than merely failing to benefit, less advantaged participants. Taxes that ensure that persons can meet their basic human needs may therefore need to be added to the economic system lest its imposition constitute a harming of the poor (Pogge 2002). This point has been emphasized in the work of political theorists who have framed demands for distributive justice in terms of predistribution (Hacker 2011, O'Neill and Williamson 2012, Thomas 2017). These theorists call for corrective action to offset what he regards as the cost of policy shifts that have worked to the benefit of the very wealthy while undermining the position of the disadvantaged, for instance by reducing their organizing rights. In this context, tax and transfer could be seen as compensating for regressive changes in the predistribution of rights which would otherwise harm disadvantaged people.
To take an international example, some have supported James Tobin's (1996) proposal for a tax on international currency exchanges on the grounds that capital markets are currently structured in a way that makes significant shocks and financial crises more frequent and more painful than they need be, often causing grave and lasting harm to poorer and more vulnerable economies. A tax on these transactions is not, according to this view, redistributive, since its purpose is to correct for and minimize harms that these markets can engender if left unregulated. Along these lines, a Tobin-inspired proposal is the 'Robin Hood Tax' on risky financial transactions, which is gaining momentum in the UK and other countries (see the link to Robin Hood Tax in the Other Internet Resources section). Similar claims have been made on behalf of resource extraction, fuel, carbon, and even global income taxes.
The policy proposals mentioned above are quite controversial. They suggest, however, that the very concept of benefit and compensatory taxation is a rather complex idea, presupposing a baseline against which specific policies and institutional arrangements can be seen to benefit or harm persons. Several baselines can be invoked in making such comparisons, including what people would have had in a 'state of nature,' in a laissez-faire scheme, within an order in which people's basic needs are met insofar as possible, and so on. Different baselines will yield different verdicts about these arrangements. And since none of the baselines is obviously more 'natural' or 'neutral' than others, moral reasons must be adduced for treating one or another of them as the appropriate benchmark for assessing the magnitudes of harm and benefit that a particular institutional order engenders. Whether we judge institutional arrangements to have harmed or benefited some agent — and therefore whether or not the taxes that these and other agents pay are redistributive — depends upon our substantive normative assessments regarding how these arrangements should be designed.
The social practices that are sometimes said to involve rights infringing transfers include compulsory taxation that is used to pay for welfare, social programs provided for the poor and unemployed, and foreign development aid. It is somewhat curious that many critics of conservative and libertarian positions seem to agree that taxation involves redistribution through violation (or at least infringement) of property rights — while maintaining that this is nevertheless justified given the importance of other social goals. Indeed, defenses of the welfare state have typically represented taxation for welfare programs as a form of state-administered infringement of property rights — or 'enforced charity'. These judgments depend, however, on highly specific (and contentious) understandings of economic justice and the processes that give rise to valid entitlements. They seem to suppose, for example, that people have valid moral claims to their gross incomes. A more robust egalitarian critique of these claims would question whether gross income provides the appropriate benchmark for judging whether rights-infringing transfers have occurred. U.S. citizens have a right only to their net incomes, not their gross incomes. They are legally obligated not to evade payment of income tax. The choice of a tax scheme does not reflect a commitment to infringing property rights to serve social goals; indeed, no individual or government agency may interfere with the (legal) use of net income. Rather, the tax scheme reflects a commitment to fixing the content of the rules that determine valid property rights in a particular way. That is, the income tax is part of the process that fixes the initial (normatively relevant) distribution, to which the right-holder is completely entitled. The income tax does not represent redistribution, since this takes for granted some different initial distribution of rightful holdings (and thus a right with a different object: in this case, gross income). Indeed, consideration of social goals such as general economic security, for instance, often figure in the design of an economic system, including its monetary policies and tax rates, but these same goals seldom figure in justifications of infringements of rights (for example, the repossession of goods that have come to be held by legal means within that system) (Murphy & Nagel 2003, Pogge 1989). Once we have fixed the content of our economic ground rules (according, of course, to some account of justice), they cannot be viewed as 'redistributive' in the rights-infringing sense. Rather, they ought to be viewed as governing how economic benefits and burdens are rightfully distributed in the first place. This is just a specific instance of the general distinction, stressed by Rawls (2001), between the use of forward-looking considerations in justifying a practice (or, in this case, an institutional design) and using those same considerations to justify infringement of the rules of an ongoing practice.
The considerations above do not in themselves show, as Liam Murphy and Thomas Nagel (2003) have argued, that Taxes do not take away from taxpayers what is antecedently theirs; pretax income has no status as a moral baseline for the purpose of evaluating the justice of the tax system.
Indeed, libertarians and others can still make out their case that rights-infringing redistribution has occurred by specifying and justifying entitlement producing rules that, if accepted, would grant pretax income significance as a moral baseline. They may argue, for example, that gross incomes have moral significance because they show the value of one's contribution to social cooperation as assessed by others, or because they represent (at least roughly) differentials in what individuals contribute to total production.
By employing the concept of redistribution, both libertarians and their egalitarian critics make it appear that laissez-faire institutions are natural and define the baseline distribution. They seem therefore to share the conviction that egalitarians seek to revise these distributions ex post through redistributive transfers. But this presupposes that the libertarians are correct in their specification of entitlement producing processes that produce the initial distribution. The fact that particular forms of taxation are often seen as redistributive in this sense is due to a tacit presupposition that a very specific kind of free-market scheme should serves as a morally privileged benchmark. Those who find that only a more egalitarian set of social arrangements is ethically defensible will (symmetrically) view the distributions that come about pursuant to a lasses-faire market scheme as involving rights infringing redistribution. Here again, the debate is better understood as concerning what the correct predistribution of right ought to be (O'Neill and Williamson 2012).
Conclusion
There are, no doubt, reasons for considering certain economic systems just, and others unjust, but it has turned out to be difficult to use the concept of redistribution to mark out differences between them. Redistribution in any of the three diachronic senses, and in either of the unmoralized synchronic senses appears to lack basic moral significance. Redistribution as tax and transfer or as rights infringement may indeed have basic moral significance. The classification of policies and institutional arrangements as redistributive in either of these senses, however, has been shown to depend on our moral assessment of these practices, and cannot thus be used as a basis for such assessments.
But couching discussions of distributive justice in terms implied by redistribution smuggles in associations of forceful takings and rights infringements, which are not obviously appropriate in the context of evaluating social programs funded through taxation, or to discussions of reforms of the global economy. Moreover, focusing on the permissibility of 'helping' and 'aiding' poorer people through 'redistributive' transfers seems tacitly to accept the existing distribution of holdings as a morally unproblematic benchmark. This focus will tend to privilege the status quo, and foster resistance to more egalitarian social arrangements.
Socialism
So, Why Not Socialism?
You, the reader, are probably not a socialist. But you probably accept the view just described: That markets are a kind of moral compromise, and that if we could harness the best within us, we would dispense with capitalism. You might not call yourself a socialist, but if you are a typical person, you probably agree that socialism would be best if only human beings were much nicer than they in fact are.
The best spokesperson of this widely shared view is the philosopher G. A. (Jerry
) Cohen. Cohen is the leading Marxist philosopher—and one of the leading political philosophers, period—of the past 100 years. Capitalism has countless critics, but Cohen is perhaps its best moral critic. Why Not Capitalism? is a debate with Cohen. I want to show he, and everyone else who agrees with him, is mistaken. I debate Cohen in order to undermine the widespread belief that socialism is morally superior to capitalism.
Unlike Michael Moore, Cohen does not mince words. Shortly after his death in 2009, Cohen's work Why Not Socialism? was published. It argues that only socialism can be just. Capitalism, Cohen claims, is an inherently repugnant way for us to live together.
Although Why Not Socialism? is tiny—about 10,000 words over 82 pages—it punches well above its weight,
as a reviewer in The Guardian says.11 Philosopher Jonathan Wolff finds the book's argument disarming.
Ellen Meiksins Wood thinks Cohen says things that need to be said.
Alexander Barker says that we, the readers, are challenged and ultimately persuaded that our objections to socialism are practical rather than moral. We in turn must confront the question of how to lead our lives according to these ideals in our less-than-ideal world.
Andrew Stone agrees that the book is stimulating and thoughtfully argued advocacy of the better world that we need to fight for.
Cohen's book contains a simple but powerful thought experiment meant to prove that socialism really is inherently morally superior to capitalism, even if capitalism works better.
Cohen means to prove our worries about capitalism are correct. For Cohen, to say of socialism, Wonderful theory, wrong species
is to damn humanity, not socialism. Capitalism works better only because it harnesses our greed and fear. But socialism is the system of love and community. Socialism is not bad for us—we are bad for socialism.
The Camping Trip Argument for Socialism
Cohen has a simple, clear argument for the inherent moral superiority of socialism. Unlike many Marxists, he doesn't rely on convoluted dialectics or postmodernist piffle. Rather, he just wants you to imagine a camping trip. Once you reflect on how you'd like to run a camping trip, you'll see that you, the reader, regardless of whether you call yourself a libertarian, capitalist, left-liberal, moderate, conservative, or whatnot, probably already believe deep down that socialism would be best.
In this section, I summarize Cohen's entire argument in Why Not Socialism? I'll also add in additional supporting arguments to help him make his case. I intend to knock Cohen's entire argument down, but not before I help him build it up as much as I can.
Cohen first has us imagine a camping trip among friends. Everyone wants everyone to have a great time. When the campers bring their equipment to the campsite, they stop asserting ownership rights over their stuff, and instead treat everything as a common bounty. Food and goods are held in common and shared freely. Everyone works hard to ensure everyone has what he or she needs. They take turns doing the hard work. The campers maintain a perfect community of perfect equality.
That's how a camping trip among friends should go. But, Cohen says, notice that the campers are living by socialist principles. They make sure everyone is equal. They share everything as a collective. Everyone does his or her part. On a good camping trip, people act like socialists.
Now, Cohen says, imagine what the camping trip would look like if the campers began to act like people do in real-life capitalism. Imagine Harry demands better food because he is good at fishing. He refuses to put his skills to use unless he gets the best fish. Sylvia demands privileges after she finds an apple tree in the woods. She refuses to share unless she gets a break from the communal chores. Leslie demands extra payment for her special knowledge of how to crack nuts. Morgan, whose father left him a well-stocked pond 30 years ago, gloats over having more food than the others.
Cohen asks, isn't the socialist way, with collective property and planned mutual giving, rather obviously the best way to run a camping trip…?
Cohen claims the camping trip was clearly better when the campers acted like socialists. When the campers started acting like capitalists, the trip became stifling and repulsive.
It is hard to disagree. When Harry says he'll catch more fish only if he gets the choicest catch, he comes across as a schmuck. Friends don't talk that way to one another. Morgan brags at his good fortune: Great. Now I can have better food than you guys have.
What a jerk! But, Cohen says, these repugnant behaviors are just what we see in real-life capitalist societies.
Cohen then articulates the moral principles that underlie the socialist version of the camping trip. These moral principles explain how the socialist campers relate to one another, and why their camping trip seems morally superior to modern capitalist societies.
First, the principle of socialist equality of opportunity eliminates all inequalities resulting from undeserved disadvantages or advantages. So, for instance, the principle forbids people from having more simply because they happen to inherit greater natural talents or were born to rich parents. After all, no one did anything to deserve being born with such good fortune. This principle allows significant inequalities only if these inequalities result from people's choices. The principle explains why Morgan shouldn't have more fish: He's just lucky that his grandfather left him a well-stocked pond.
Second, the campers also abide by a socialist principle of community. The campers care about one another, and care that they care about one another. Cohen argues that, as a result, the campers will not tolerate the inequalities that socialist equality of opportunity would otherwise permit. So, while socialist equality of opportunity allows only those inequalities that result from free choice, the socialist principle of community forbids any inequalities that would put distance among the campers. Cohen claims that we cannot be fully in community with one another if we are unequal. After all, if I am rich and you are poor, then I just can't fully understand your problems. Inequality prevents us from empathizing with one another. (To see why, imagine complaining to Bill Gates about being late on your mortgage. Could Gates really empathize with you, and wouldn't you find it a bit absurd to discuss financial difficulties with a billionaire?) When one person is much richer or poorer than the others, it cuts that person off from communal life, or so Cohen claims. This principle explains why the campers will choose to work toward perfect equality, rather than allowing some to become worse off as a result of poor choices.
You might not accept Cohen's favored principles of justice. But Cohen would say he needn't rely on them too much for his argument. For him, what's important is that you agree that the camping trip is better when it was socialist and egalitarian than when it became capitalist and inegalitarian.
The socialist camping trip is just a trip among friends. It's not really a society—it's more of a short-term microsociety. Still, Cohen asks, wouldn't life just obviously be better if we could somehow make large-scale societies more like the camping trip?
Put aside for now the question of whether we can do so. There are lots of things we can't do or might not be able to do that we know are good to do. It might be impossible to cure AIDS, but it would be better if we could. It might be impossible to discover many important scientific truths, but it would be better if we could. It might be impossible to develop efficient, pollution-free energy, but it would be better if we could. Judgments about what's intrinsically best are independent of judgments of what's feasible.
So, imagine we had a magic wand that would make the entire world just like the socialist camping trip. Obviously, we have no such wand. But Cohen's question is, if we had such a wand, should we wave it? Cohen says, of course! If we could somehow discover how to make societies run like the socialist camping trip, we would rejoice.
But if so, this means we tolerate capitalism only because we think we must. We tolerate capitalism only because we think we don't know how to make socialism work the right way. Perhaps, given our moral and cognitive failings, capitalism delivers the goods.
But socialism would be the preferred system if only human beings were morally better, like the people on the socialist version of the camping trip. In Cohen's view, human vice is in abundance. Capitalism works because it channels that vice toward publicly beneficial ends. Capitalism works only because it relies upon greed, fear, and people's limited knowledge. But socialism, he says, would rely upon generosity, community, and wisdom.
Cohen says there are two main questions about socialism. First, is it intrinsically desirable? The camping trip thought experiment proves it is. Second, is it feasible? Here he is less certain. He thinks it might be feasible, but is unsure.
Many people believe socialism is infeasible. Again, Cohen responds, even if socialism were infeasible, it would remain intrinsically desirable and the best way for us to live together. Whether something is feasible has no bearing on whether it is intrinsically desirable. Whether it is possible to get something has no bearing on whether the thing is, in itself, worth having. We can see that just by asking, if it were feasible, would we want it? If it were possible to get it, would we want it? And Cohen thinks he has already shown that we'd all say yes to socialism.
In his previous work, Cohen illustrates this point with an analogy. Suppose you find some grapes. Suppose, somehow, you know these are the tastiest grapes in the world. That is, if you were to eat them, you would find them better tasting than any other grapes. However, suppose the grapes are out of reach. That does not make the grapes any less intrinsically desirable. The fact that you cannot reach the best grapes does not make the grapes less tasty. They are still the best grapes! It just means that the best grapes you can reach are not the best grapes there are.
On Cohen's behalf, I'll defend his point further by borrowing (and modifying) a similar example from the philosopher David Estlund. Suppose we go out for a picnic. On a hill in the distance, we see the perfect picnic spot. We can tell from here that this picnic spot is better than any other. It's much better than our current spot. However, suppose it is difficult, impossible, or just too costly to get there. Suppose, for instance, that to get to the spot, we would have to cross a deep ravine, a briar patch, and a swamp filled with alligators. Suppose there's also magical fog surrounding the hill. This fog transforms morally imperfect people like you and me into murderous zombies, although it has no effect on perfectly virtuous people. Faced with such obstacles, we should not bother to try to reach the perfect picnic spot. Yet, none of these obstacles make the picnic spot on the hill any less perfect or desirable in itself. The picnic spot, in itself, is still better than any spot we will reach. If we could get to that better spot, without having to suffer the costs of doing so, then we should.
Here is one final analogy to sell Cohen's point. Suppose you are in the market for a sports car. You can choose between the 2013 Chevrolet Camaro ZL1 or the 2012 BMW M6. The experts Car and Driver car magazine say, The BMW is the better car by nearly every measure.
They claim it is the better car, period. Yet, they also recommend you buy the ZL1 instead of the M6. They conclude, The BMW does most everything better. But the ZL1 has more than half the swagger at just less than half the price.
In short, the Camaro is the better car for the price, but the BMW is the intrinsically better car. The BMW is still intrinsically more desirable. If you could have either car for free, you should pick the M6.
And that's much like Cohen's point. If we could get socialism to work and we could transition to socialism at a low enough cost, of course, we'd want to. So, he concludes, socialism is inherently morally superior to capitalism.
Now turn to the question of whether socialism is feasible. Many economists are convinced socialism cannot work. Here, I'll explain why.
Every economic system needs three things to function. First, the system needs information—it needs some way to coordinate people's actions, to convey to people what they need to do in light of what others are doing. Second, it needs incentives—it needs some way to induce people to act on the information they receive. Third, because people make mistakes, it needs learning—a process by which people become better at responding to information and incentives.
When economists claim socialism is infeasible or unworkable, they cite two different kinds of reasons. First—the most familiar—is an incentive problem. Socialism might be infeasible because of human beings' moral limitations. Socialist governments have great power. Murderous, powerhungry sociopaths try to seize control of that power. Socialism also fails to motivate selfish people to work hard for the sake of others. In practice, from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs
fails to meet needs or get people to make use of their abilities. But if people were virtuous, they would not be corrupted or tempted by power. They would work hard for the common good without demanding extra rewards. Economists, of course, don't use moral language like this. They just say that most people are insufficiently altruistic to make socialist institutions function.
Second, socialism might be infeasible because of an information problem. This second problem with socialism may be unfamiliar to you unless you have a strong background in economics. Economists say socialism fails because socialist economic planners lack the information they need to make it work. Socialism fails because of our cognitive limitations.
Socialist Regimes Lacks Information
In economic theory, the Socialist Calculation Problem or Knowledge Problem holds that in large-scale societies it is close to impossible to make good economic calculations without market prices or a good substitute for market prices. Market prices are not, as non-economists commonly believe, arbitrary numbers set by capricious managers. They are instead a function of supply and demand. Market prices thus convey information about the relative scarcity of goods in light of the effective demand for those goods. Market prices, therefore, tell producers and consumers how to adjust their behavior to other people's wants and needs.
So, for instance, if more industries start trying to buy aluminum, the sellers of aluminum will try to raise their prices. When The Coca-Cola Company notices that the price of aluminum is rising, it will try to find a way to use less aluminum. In fact, soda cans use much less aluminum now than they did 40 years ago, but the cans have a better design that allows them to be stacked high despite containing less metal. This is not because executives at The Coca-Cola Company are environmentalists, but because they knew they'd make more profit if they could cut costs.
Or, suppose there's a power outage. You rush to the store for ice to keep your beer cold. But when you get to the store, you find the now scarce ice is selling for $12 a bag. You'll probably decide it's not worth buying ice for your beer. What you don't realize, though, is that by choosing not to buy the ice, you thereby leave it for the diabetic who needs it to cool his insulin. As economics textbooks say, market prices tend to ensure goods go to their highest value uses.
Consider a simple object—a number 2 pencil. You might not realize it, but literally millions of people worked together to produce that pencil, although only a few hundred of them realized they were doing so. The person who mines the iron that will go into the ball bearings in machines that grind up the graphite and clay that will end up on the pencil might have little idea that he is helping to make pencils. Yet market prices bring these millions of people together to produce pencils.
Few people, aside from academic economists, understand what market prices are, how prices convey information, and how such prices coordinate billions of people to work together. But the magic of prices is that they help us work together even though we don't understand what prices mean. People don't need to understand how the market works in order for the market to work.
Socialism dispenses with the market economy and thus with market prices. But no one can run an economy without information. Socialism thus needs some substitute for market prices. According to the Socialist Calculation Problem, large-scale socialist planning cannot work, even if everyone were motivated to make it work, because planners do not have a workable substitute for prices. The problem of planning an economy is too hard.
Market Socialism
Unlike many Marxists, Cohen concedes that bourgeois economics
is basically sound. Marxists used to argue that socialism would be more efficient and productive than capitalism. Cohen concedes that capitalism won this battle.
Cohen is more impressed with Marx's moral critique of capitalism than his economic critique. Cohen appreciates that the Socialist Calculation Problem casts strong doubts on the feasibility of socialism. However, Cohen says, even if large-scale pure socialism is not feasible, perhaps market socialism—a kind of hybrid of capitalism and socialism—is feasible. At the very least, Cohen claims, we do not know market socialism is infeasible.
Cohen thus ends his defense of socialism by citing the work of political scientist Joseph Carens, who claims market socialism can combine socialist distributive principles with the market's information-gathering power. In Carens' scheme, the means of production are publically owned, but managers compete with one another on the market. Their profits are shared with everyone. Cohen acknowledges that few economists find Carens' arguments convincing, and Cohen does not try to solve the problems critics see in Carens' work.
In summary: The socialist camping trip was wonderful, but the capitalist camping trip was awful. It would clearly be better if we could, somehow, make the whole world like the socialist camping trip. This shows that socialism is inherently morally superior to capitalism, regardless of whether this kind of socialism is feasible. Even if pure socialism on a large scale is not feasible, there may at least be a type of socialism that is. Finally, Cohen asks us not to lose hope. He concludes, [E]very market … is a system of predation. Our attempt to get beyond predation has thus far failed. I do not think the right conclusion is to give up.
Cohen seems to have simple, powerful proof of the following claims:
- 1. Socialism is intrinsically more desirable than capitalism. If we could make socialism work, we'd want to.
- 2. if we are stuck with capitalism, it's because we are too hardhearted or dumb to do better.
- 3. Capitalism only works because it runs on—indeed, exacerbates—selfishness, fear, and greed.
In short, we are right to be suspicious of capitalism. Cohen thinks he has shown us that, deep down, we all share his moral revulsion of the market.
That doesn't mean you'd vote the same way Cohen would. You and he might disagree about how close we can get to a functional form of socialism. You might be more pessimistic about the prospects for real-world socialism than Cohen.
I teach Cohen's book in introductory political economy and political philosophy courses at least once a year. Few of my students call themselves socialists. Most of them favor some form of welfare-state capitalism over socialism. Yet, so far, none of my students at Brown or Georgetown—fantastically bright as they are—have produced a sound counterargument to Cohen.
Most of them just say, Well, sure, I suppose it would be better if we all lived like the people on the socialist camping trip, but real people just aren't like that.
Cohen's response, I tell them, would be that perhaps people could be like that, if capitalism hadn't amplified their selfish tendencies. But, even if people are naturally too selfish for socialism, all Cohen wants is for the students to agree that it would be better if we all lived like the people on the camping trip. People aren't like that
is, in Cohen's words, a factual, not a normative defense of inequality. (A factual claim describes how things are; a normative claim describes how things ought or ought not to be.) As Cohen summarizes it:
A prominent factual defense of inequality traces it to a supposedly ineradicable human selfishness. This defense says that inequality is ensured by something as original to human nature as sin is, on the Christian view of original sin: people are by nature selfish, whether or not that is, like being a sinner, a bad thing to be, and inequality is an unavoidable result of that selfishness, whether or not that inequality is just.
Cohen is right: This is not a moral justification of inequality. It is merely an empirical assertion that inequality is inevitable.
Or, students sometimes say, You can't judge human nature. Human nature isn't good or bad; it just is.
But few of them really think that. Cohen would just say, If you had a magic wand that would make people less greedy, rapacious, and nasty, and more kind, loving, and generous, you'd wave that magic wand. And that shows that you actually are judging human nature.
Or, students sometimes say, But I wouldn't be willing to work that hard for everybody else if I didn't get paid more.
Here I remind them that Cohen isn't advocating that they work hard while others live in idleness off their efforts. Contrary to what some critics of Marxism allege, Marxists like Cohen don't actually assert that the talented should be slaves to the lazy. In Cohen's ideal society, everyone works equally hard, and everyone gets an equal reward. But, still, some students balk and say they wouldn't feel motivated under this scheme. Cohen's response, I tell them, is that this just shows they are selfish and unjust. Cohen isn't trying to be mean, here. He'd admit that he's similarly selfish and unjust.
Or, other students have said that they don't think that they should be forced to treat everyone else in the world as their friend. But, I remind them, Cohen is not here advocating that we force you to work for others as if everyone in the world is your friend. Instead, Cohen is saying that if we were all perfectly good and just, we would just want to treat everyone else as friends. In a perfectly just world, Cohen's socialism would be voluntary. Cohen's ideal form of socialism is not the USSR, but anarchist socialism, that is, a form of socialism that doesn't require a coercive government to make it work.
To my surprise, most of my pro-market philosopher and economist colleagues have no stronger objections to Cohen than my students. They might say that Cohen is just arguing that the whole world should be like the family, and then say that, of course, we don't have that strong a capacity for love. Or, they may recite some institutional economics, or argue that justice is about dealing with our flaws, not imagining them away. Many of them just dismiss Cohen as too utopian.
But these are no objections! This is just vigorous agreement disguised as vigorous disagreement.
Saying Cohen is too utopian concedes that Cohen is right. It concedes the moral high ground to Cohen and concedes his main conclusion. It concedes that capitalism works well only because it is, as Cohen says, a social technology
that uses base motives to productive economic effect.
It concedes that the market recruits low-grade motives to desirable ends.
It does not answer Cohen's charge that the market [is] intrinsically repugnant.
To dismiss socialism as too utopian is to say that it's best, but not attainable.
Cohen's argument requires a different kind of response.
In my view, Cohen's argument fails, and fails badly. In the next section—The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse Argument for Capitalism: A Parody—I will perform some philosophical aikido. I will parody Cohen's style of argument to show, on the contrary, that capitalism is more intrinsically desirable than socialism. I will show how Cohen's kind of argument for socialism turns into an even better argument for capitalism. The next section parodies Cohen by immitating the same structure, format, and tone of his argument. However, while Cohen describes an ideal socialist camping trip, I describe an ideal capitalist society, as presented in the children's show Mickey Mouse Clubhouse, a CGI-animated cartoon on the Disney, Jr. channel. In effect, I copy Cohen's argument, but flip his argument around to get the opposite result.
Part of my goal is to expose—through parody—that Cohen's argument for socialism is fallacious. When you see how easily his argument for socialism can be flipped to produce an even better argument for capitalism, you'll see that Cohen's argument is flawed. I'll explain what the flaw is later on, but there's a good chance you'll see it before I explain it.
However, I do not just mean this to be a mere parody or
I'll concede that the title of my book, Why Not Capitalism?, may seem at first glance a bit odd to any Western reader. After all, we have capitalism in abundance, perhaps more so now than at any other time in the world's history. But my hope is that its double-meaning may be apparent now, at the conclusion of this section. The title, of course, signals that the book is a direct rejoinder to Cohen's popular book, Why Not Socialism? But I also chose it to ask the question it poses more generally, and as a moral rather than merely an economic query. So, in the sections that follow, I attempt to answer the question in moral terms, arguing that the best possible society is a capitalistic society.
The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse Argument for Capitalism: A Parody
Populism
Populism, political program or movement that champions the common person, usually by favourable contrast with an elite. Populism usually combines elements of the left and the right, opposing large business and financial interests but also frequently being hostile to established socialist and labour parties.
The term populism can designate either democratic or authoritarian movements. Populism is typically critical of political representation and anything that mediates the relation between the people and their leader or government. In its most democratic form, populism seeks to defend the interest and maximize the power of ordinary citizens, through reform rather than revolution. In the United States the term was applied to the program of the Populist Movement, which gave rise to the Populist, or People's, Party in 1892. Many of the party's demands were later adopted as laws or constitutional amendments (e.g., a progressive tax system). The populist demand for direct democracy through popular initiatives and referenda also become a reality in a number of U.S. states.
In its contemporary understanding, however, populism is most often associated with an authoritarian form of politics. Populist politics, following this definition, revolves around a charismatic leader who appeals to and claims to embody the will of the people in order to consolidate his own power. In this personalized form of politics, political parties lose their importance, and elections serve to confirm the leader's authority rather than to reflect the different allegiances of the people. In the second half of the 20th century, populism came to be identified with the political style and program of Latin American leaders such as Juan Perón, Getúlio Vargas, and Hugo Chávez. Populist is often used pejoratively to criticize a politician for pandering to a people's fear and enthusiasm. Depending on one's view of populism, a populist economic program can therefore signify either a platform that promotes the interest of common citizens and the country as a whole or a platform that seeks to redistribute wealth to gain popularity, without regard to the consequences for the country such as inflation or debt.