Posted by
Rob on Thursday, November 22, 2007 8:00:15 PM
I have written a two-part essay on libertarian conservatism. It is very philosophical in nature so it is not easy reading. The first part deals primarily with conservative philosophy. The particular expression of that philosophy presented here is original to me, but I believe that the basic principles are a true and accurate expression of conservative philosophy since its inception during the Enlightenment.
The second part deals with libertarian conservativism and represents my own ideas on the subject. I advocate a union of conservatism and libertarianism by retaining the libertarian view of limited government but accepting the conservative view of individual rights as an achievement of a culture rather than as unalienable rights of nature.
I am posting the first essay now. I will post the second later.
The Case for Libertarian Conservatism
We begin our exposition on libertarian conservatism with the claim that the term "libertarian" can be used sensibly as an adjective but never as a noun. The fundamental claim of libertarianism is that the individual is free to do anything he chooses to do as long as it does not cause harm to others. This seems straightforward enough, and it is as long as the term "harm" is limited to the physical death or injury of another person.
But the term "harm" has not generally been limited to murder or battery. It has also been applied to theft. If I take property that is deemed to belong to another person, I am said to be guilty of theft and to have caused harm to that other person.
But now we have to have an ethic that defines what private property actually is, and the libertarian has none. That is to say, there is nothing in the libertarian formulation of freedom that demands one definition of property over another. Libertarianism must look to some other philosophy for a definition of property. If I accept a socialist definition of property, I become a libertarian socialist. If I accept a capitalist formula, I become a libertarian capitalist. If I accept a traditionalist definition of property, I become a libertarian conservative. The term is always an adjective, never a noun.
I make this distinction because there is a political theory called "anarcho-capitalism" or "market anarchism" which claims to be a libertarian school. This ideology presumes to have an objective understanding of property. In fact, however, it merely pre-supposes the capitalist definition. This is an important distinction. Capitalism, after all, is not an ideology. Nor is it a philosophy. It is a social and economic movement. A definition of property that is most useful and beneficial to capitalism will be most useful and beneficial to capitalism. That is all we can say about it. It has a pragmatic, not an ethical, foundation.
Now I realize that some libertarians would object to this. Some would claim to have an objective definition of property based on the philosophy of John Locke. This raises many problems that are too numerous to be dealt with here. I will limit my critique to the simple observation that Locke's stand on private property is not objective. It is neither self-evident nor logically compelling.
Locke argues that when an individual has mixed his labor with an object of nature that object becomes entirely the property of that individual. By mixing one's labor we acquire the right to alienate the entirety of that object from the community of men to which it was previously available. But this is hardly self-evident. It seems far more obvious to claim that if I alienate an object of nature from the community, I owe the community some compensation. Otherwise, the community retains a share of the product and no alienation takes place.
But Locke seems to anticipate this because he claims that all the value of the product derives from the labor. Without the mixing of the labor, a product of nature, including land, is essentially worthless. Therefore, nothing of value has been alienated.
But this is tantamount to claiming that natural resources are a free good. They are like the air we breathe that is so abundant and so ubiquitous that no effort is required to attain it. Yet this is clearly not the case, and no argument for self-evidence can give us a right to private property.
Nor is the argument logically compelling. After all, the expressions "alienate from" and "mix one's labor with" bear no logical or tautological connection. They are entirely different concepts. The one does not in any way contain the seeds of the other. Thus, the Lockean argument cannot produce an objective "right" to private property. It is merely Locke's opinion and not one that any thinking individual is compelled to accept.
Now at this point, the anarcho-capitalist might put forward another argument. A right to private property must be accepted because it works. Capitalism has been of the greatest benefit to mankind. It has brought more people up from poverty and produced more material wealth than any other system known to mankind. Certainly, it has vastly outstripped all government-run schemes. Where socialism has led to poverty and stasis, capitalism has produced wealth and progress.
We will accept this for the sake of argument, and we will overlook the presumption that material wealth is necessarily good. But we can't help pointing out that the "right" to private property is no longer justified as a sacrosanct and personal freedom, but as a social relationship that benefits the community as a whole. It is now recognized, not as product of nature, but of society.
This, of course, is exactly the conservative position. Private property can be tolerated because it solves social problems. There was a time when the man with forty acres and a mule was not dependent on the rest of the community for his survival. He could grow enough food to support himself and his large family in abundance and still have enough left over to contribute to the well-being of the community through taxation.
The weaver who purchased a machine to assist in his craft might be able to increase his productivity by ten times. If he buys another machine he might be able to employ another weaver at many times the income that man was previously making and still have money left over to pay for the machine and produce a profit. He might even produce so much that he has to reduce the price to sell all of his production. This is a benefit to everyone, and so we are happy to pass laws against the theft of his factory or of his products. But we pass such laws for the benefit of the community. We create a "right" for the individual because that right serves a social purpose.
But a right bestowed by the community can be removed by that same community. Or it can be amended or reformed. Regulation on the use of property or on the transactions of business can be promulgated to promote the common interest in those situations where the property right is deemed to be harmful.
Now at this point, some libertarians might object . They might claim that what I am describing as "conservatism" is little more than socialism. After all, socialists claim that property is social to begin with. And while there are a few socialists who think that property should always be held in common, there are many socialists who are quite willing to accept privately-owned property as long as it is subject to socialist regulation. And, indeed, that is exactly the position taken by that infamous off-shoot of socialism called fascism! "Conservatism" as it is defined here, the libertarian might argue, is nothing more than another statist ideology.
Such a claim misses the point. Conservatism doesn't deny the existence of private property rights. It merely claims that those rights derive from social convention. But the social order itself is constituted, in part, by those rights. Conservatives strongly believe in the preservation of the social order. While it is permissible to tamper with such rights in principle, it is dangerous to do so in practice.
Where a socialist might be willing to tinker with property rights as freely as he would with discretionary items in the annual budget, the conservative would reform the property right only under the most compelling circumstances. After all, to change our rights is to change who we are. A transformation of rights is a transformation of society.
For the socialist, that is the entire point. The socialist has a vision of a better society in which all of the ills of the society will be abolished, but all the good things will be retained. In the mind of the socialist all socialist policies, however tentative or compromised by circumstance, still have this vision as their ultimate goal.
The conservative knows better. The conservative understands that our rights are an achievement of our culture. They are not God-given. They are not embedded in nature. They are not written in the stars. They emerged from the strife of our experience, and they are protected by the wisdom of our past.
One does not tamper 'willy-nilly' with our rights, because our rights are not encapsulated in a few phrases like "free speech" or "freedom of religion." These terms are subject to a wide variety of definitions. But in our culture these, and all of our rights, are defined with extreme precision through our traditions. And they are protected, with reasonable success, through our institutions.
If you destroy these traditions and overthrow these institutions, you destroy these rights. A few ill-defined terms on a piece of paper do not guarantee your rights. A few newly-created institutions with ill-defined powers, cannot protect them.
It is usage, not legislative language, that determines the powers of an institution. It is usage, not dictionary definitions, that determine the meaning of our rights. When traditional authority falls, traditional usages are abandoned, and new meanings must emerge. Where new meanings must emerge, controversies abound. And where controversies abound, force decides the issue.
The conservative does not trust the socialist no matter how exemplary his personal conduct may be. He does not trust the socialist, because he does not trust the socialist vision. The socialist has ideas, but he does not have experience. No matter how shrewd and successful he may be in political affairs, he does not have the experience of generations of men. He cannot anticipate the "blowback." He cannot know the unintended consequences of his schemes. He can destroy, but he cannot build.
The socialist, while readily accepting the libertarian notion of natural rights, multiplies these rights, in his own mind, until they reach perfection. Yet he fails to see that such ever-increasing rights cannot have been natural rights in the first instance.
But this is of scant concern to the socialist. It is sufficient that these rights exist in the socialist vision of perfection. The socialist does not rest his vision on logic but on compassion. For the socialist, an expansion of rights means an expansion of humane treatment for everyone. Who can argue with that?
The problem with the socialist "humaneness" is human nature. Not only does it require the perfectibility of human nature, it requires that that perfectibility be precisely in accord with the socialist vision. Chaucer's "perfect, gentle, knight," being a warrior, would not likely qualify.
But this is why logic is a necessary, though certainly not sufficient, part of public policy. Because human nature cannot become something other than what it is. It is one thing to say that humans have a capacity for compassion and quite another thing to say that it is their essence.
But it is even more problematic to assert a human tendency toward abstract compassion. Our compassion for friends, relatives, and loved ones is palpable. But for strangers it is less obvious, and for enemies it is scarcely in evidence. Indeed, the Christian command to "love your enemies," is a call to transform our nature. It expresses the essence of divinity, not humanity. And it is, quintessentially, a personal transformation, not a political one.
The simple fact is that humans love humanity until they feel threatened by it. As the saying goes, "A conservative is a liberal who has been mugged." Our capacity for compassion is selective, and our capacity for hatred is innate.
What inspires our hatred more than the loss of our loves? Those who deprive us, or threaten to deprive us, of those we love most, quickly become the object of our hatred and our scorn. Love and hate are not polar opposites. They are a unity of opposites. They represent the yin and yang of our emotional experience. We cannot have compassion without love, and we cannot love without creating the capacity for hate.
Love, compassion, hatred, and fear are not abstract principles. They are highly personal sentiments. We do not love humanity. We love human beings. And when our loved ones are taken from us, we do not seek compassion, we seek revenge. We hate because we love, and no appeal to some abstract principle of compassion will lead us to peace when we fervently desire war.
But the socialist seeks not merely to expand rights but to deliver them. For the socialist, it is not sufficient that the individual be free from oppression. His rights must also free him from nature. Miraculously, the individual acquires a right to food, shelter, clothing, education, health care, and other social benefits.
Individual rights become social obligations. Social obligations must be enforced by coercive power, and the legitimate use of coercive power is the definition of government power. The idea that legitimate force can be implemented by "anarchic" institutions is completely absurd. To claim that such an institution is not a government does not change the reality.
But the state has one power and one power only. The power of the state is the power to commandeer the energy and resources of the people. The state cannot grow the food, sew the clothing, build the houses, or teach the classes that are necessary to procure the "rights" envisioned by the modern welfare state. Only people can do these things, and those people will do them only if they are forced to so or are rewarded for it.
We are fortunate that our modern system of money and banking allows most of our social obligations to be met through taxation. We no longer have to spend so many days a year working on the king's highway or digging a canal. Even military conscription is limited to major wars.
This is both efficient and liberating. But it also tends to obscure the fact our labor is being coerced. For the socialist it obscures the fact that one person's "right" is another person's obligation. If a am entitled to health care, someone else is obligated to empty my bed pan.
The point is that such "rights" are not liberating at all. They merely redefine existing personal and social responsibilities. The problem is, they redefine them excessively. Because these "rights" are presumed to be necessary because they are financially unaffordable for the poor and the unfortunate in our society. But society has always recognized the need to help the poor and the unfortunate among their members. Often the resources to do so were minimal, and the state wasn't always the main provider, but the social obligation was recognized. It is the wealth of the modern world, not some unique socialist compassion, that makes the socialist vision conceivable.
But the socialist goes on to demand that such social obligations be universalized. Everyone must be brought under the protection of the state. Currently fifteen to twenty per cent of the population of the United States is not covered by some form of health insurance. The conservative might acknowledge the need to do something about that fifteen to twenty per cent. But the socialist insists that we need a "national health care plan." And this universal vision can be multiplied many times over in demands for such programs as a "guaranteed living wage," and "guaranteed employment." Such demands can be met only through large increases in taxation and a massive increase in state power. This is the socialist vision – a vision of perfection that empowers socialist intellectuals but reduces the mass of humanity into cogs in a machine. For in this scenario, even the unfortunate are denied the dignity of their misfortune and the virtue of their gratitude.
Above all, the socialist vision is a vision of national greatness. It is a vision of a nation achieving greatness through the pursuit of national goals. It is no different, in principle, from the vision of conquest so admired by the empire-builders. But a nation cannot be great if its people are oppressed. And, as we will show in the next section, such national goals are incompatible with human freedom, ultimately destructive of greatness, and a perversion of the legitimate function of the state.