Tolerance Through Thick and Thin

It's hard to get enthused or worked up about political shouting matches over purveyors of fried chicken, but I think the recent kerfuffle over Chik-fil-A could prove illustrative in the right context. For those out of the loop, Chik-fil-A is getting hammered by sexual-equality groups for some anti-gay-marriage statements made by one of its proprietors a couple of weeks ago. Of course, the general views of the very Christian owner(s) of Chik-fil-A have been known for quite a while (anyone wonder why their doors are closed every Sunday?). But social media outlets seem to be useful for putting old (and often, even untrue) stories under a magnifying glass. And the views are indeed sometimes quite myopic...

I won't pick apart the disparaging claims bandied about by "conservatives" or "liberals" on the subject. That would be a bit pedantic at this point. What I think is interesting is that the libertarian response (at least among my small circle of that world) is pretty varied. I actually find that kind of comforting in a weird way. A lot of people tend to think of libertarians as a very narrow and homogeneous group. And, indeed, as libertarians are generally sticklers for consistency, you might think we'd have a very clear prescription for such an issue. I think some people may have even at one point called us "cultish" for such things. But it's actually a somewhat complex issue upon reflection. And the variance on this subject among libertarians actually highlights a very real diversity among us.

With that in mind, here's how I see it...

It's not an issue of justice. Or at least, if it is, there's a whole lot of fuzziness. Chik-fil-A does not turn the machinery of the state. They may give money to people who try to talk to people who turn that machinery, but they're not turning it. So, from a thin libertarian perspective, that's going to be an important part of this equation. If this kind of consideration grounds your concern, we could expect a somewhat neutral view on suggested boycotts.

However, under both a thin and thick conception of libertarianism you could make a good argument for supporting the boycotts. On the thin end there's certainly a good argument for withholding your business from people who support (even if not directly) things you find unjust. And it's certainly well within your own rights to do so. On the thicker end there are good arguments for believing that a society that does not support sexual equality would also not, adequately, support a framework of institutions that are more libertarian-friendly.

There's also a (somewhat) thick argument about the limits of "support" perhaps. If you're supplying arms to the Third Reich there's an argument, on thin grounds, that you're not directly killing people so therefore there is no true injustice. But it's easy to see how one might oppose, in a very libertarian fashion and for very libertarian reasons, such things.

But what I'm kind of interested in is a third level of critique (not sure whether to call it thick or thin) that questions the limits of such conceptions. For one thing, I think appeals to tolerance could be ushered on both sides of the argument. Surely there are arguments that a libertarian society would be more workable or coherent when tolerance is embraced by all; but that might also lead you to believe that if we want to foster an appreciation for freedom, or more importantly discussion, in those we disagree with, then we might be well-off to show a certain degree of tolerance for them as well.

That doesn't mean that we have to agree with them, or do business with them. But I'm not sure that threatening to practically excommunicate all whom we disagree with is particularly libertarian either. I want those people to be public with their opinions, and even vociferously so. It's a point of engagement. I want fear and hatred to be curtailed and defeated. I don't want it to be simply swept under a rug to be perpetually bandied about in indirect ways for generations.

However, even if we believed market-based excommunication to be perfectly libertarian (and there's certainly good arguments for it) I'm not sure how much sense it makes on a practical level. Let's think about this. We're saying that we should actively abstain from doing business with actors that give money to people who push for political change that we find to be unjust. If we were being consistent, wouldn't it apply in the other direction as well? Maybe you own a small or mid-size company in Nowhere, USA. You're picking up employees left and right to keep up with increased business. Now, to a libertarian, there may be no injustice in screening potential employees on the basis of their political views. But would it be a practical or wise thing to do for libertarianism in the long run?

Granted, it's probably relatively easier for consumers do this. But it's not clear why it would be less of an imperative (politically) for employers. I mean I can't give money to someone with an Obama sticker on their car, right? There's a good chance that they are taking some of that money and contributing it directly (or indirectly) to his campaign. And I don't think the idea of blowing up innocent Pakistani children with drones is particularly libertarian. So, if we're going to be consistent, I guess we could say that I should only hire people that support my views, right?

You can see how this could get kind of sticky in a hurry. On a related note, this is part of why I've found the state-based conception of "discrimination" (or rather its prohibition) nonsensical. In their case, the consideration is flipped. Employers aren't "allowed" to discriminate based on any number of things generally perceived to be outside of the realm of meritocratic considerations. Yet, for whatever reason, it's perfectly fine for customers to engage in such discrimination - which might even be more detrimental/appalling on the grounds of severing bridges to wealth accumulation. In a legal context, it's perfectly OK for people to decide to never do business with a company because it's owner is black, Hispanic, gay, etc. It's not clear to me why this is acceptable when the other is not...but this is a tangential conversation.

My broader point isn't to say that there is any particular "libertarian" view in all of this that is "right", or that should prevail in any meaningful sense. I just think it's interesting how nuanced the opinions can be in a framework that is thought to be pretty restrictive. I get the impression that most people think we drank the Nozickian KoolAid at some point and just punched out. But, at least from what I read, it turns out we're not all mind-numbed robots after all. Well, the others are maybe. But not me. I'm cool like that.

I Didn't Build That? (Part II)

Anthony Gregory has a good recent article at HuffPo. As with far too many social hubs, the comments sections are often atrocious - and the section for this article is no exception. Most of them are so far outside the sphere of relevance that they don't deserve any serious retort. But sometimes when there is a theme recurrent enough to get under your skin, you just wanna set phasers to blast and have a field day.

So...I was going to address this particular theme I was seeing, and then these wondrous intertubes graced me with a comment that seemed to echo about anything worth saying on my end. So I thought I'd share said poster's thoughts here.

One commenter, responding to a cross-post of the original HuffPo article at BHL claims the following:

"Yes, the public has built some bad things, and some unnecessary things, along with the many good and useful and necessary things its has built. All of the things the public has built have influenced the outcomes individuals have achieved, and in some very frequent cases have been causally necessary conditions for the achievement of those outcomes."

And then the voice in my head that must have been parading as another commenter responds:

"Even if you believe that, don't you find it troubling (logically if not morally) that the end result is a situation where one party holds an open-ended claim against another?

Consider a non-state example. There are many businesses who owe their prosperity to Facebook advertising, and they've all paid some mutually agreed sum for that advantage. What if Mark Zuckerberg falls on hard times a decade from now, and shows up at their collective doorstep saying "...this network of information, this means of influencing people, you didn't build that, so it seems only right you should now be asked to pay me more."

Immediately you would see the problem with this reasoning: it has no end. If Zuckerberg somehow manages to beg a few extra dollars from these clients, surely he will come back to beg again. And why shouldn't he keep coming, if they are foolish enough to accept a retroactive adjustment of his price?

Surely you can see how much worse the problem would be if a) the advertisers never had a choice about using Facebook to begin with, and b) if Zuckerberg could simply force people to pay his new and infinitely adjustable price.

So...why is this argument any better when the party making happens to be the state?"

This.

This a thousand times.

I Didn't Build That?

In a recent blog post (as this whole ordeal so often starts), one "dkuehn" reflects on the "You didn't build that." statements made by Obama, and opines for more worthy political adversaries:

"It's incredible that this obvious point is twisted into some kind of anti-business screed. Man is not an island, and we benefit all the time from the achievements of others, the knowledge of others, and positive externalities. The market itself is a positive externality because of the benefits conferred by liquid markets and diversity. That's called a network effect. The benefits derived from one more node in a network are much broader than just the benefits enjoyed by a single person making a decision to enter that network."

I'd like to display my initial thought(s) as well as an response to a later reaction in the comment section (which hasn't been responded to as of yet)...

My initial response:

"Boy, no offense, but you've had quite a litany of posts the last couple of days that have had me shaking my head a bit. You know how you, fairly often, take something (like this Obama quote) and say that you can't even imagine how it's seen as so controversial. Well, a lot of us read your criticisms of those criticisms, and think the same thing. This is one of those times (at least for me).

I don't expect everyone who picks up quotes/memes like this and runs with it to understand the full(er) implication of their criticisms. I'm sure that there are plenty of people (if not most of them) who do not look at the content in any serious way, and use whatever they can as a ploy to further their own political views. But it's not very difficult for me to imagine the way in which people could be reading this and finding it controversial. And when a very intelligent guy likes you seems "bewildered" by it, I'm (apologetically) inclined to think you're being too clever by half.

Of course man is not an island. And anyone who supports free markets (a number of whom share criticisms of this quote) knows that. Hell, if I had a dime for every time someone proffered that, as a libertarian, I must believe in some kind of atomistic individualism, maybe I'd have more time to respond to posts like this.

The context of his comments are narrower than that. He's talking (pretty specifically in light of the extended quote provided) of public/political goods within that network. By coupling that with the eschewing of atomistic thinking he's (not so subtly) creating a false dichotomy. People might be wrong to fight against the provision and securing of political "goods", but that doesn't make their views atomistic. You can be very aware and supportive of the concept of working with others and not support the types of things he seems to think are justified by such a sentiment. The ideas aren't mutually inclusive.

Put more concisely, if he's just axiomatically stating that we benefit from each other, then there's no point in bringing it up (in a political context). If he's using it to lend support to an array of political initiatives, then his argument is contentious at best - and I would think anyone would expect heavy criticism at the very least."

dkuehn later writes in response to another commenter:

"Nowhere in Obama's statement did say any version of "and if you disagree with me you must think production is atomistic".

Wills is worrying over nothing. I didn't respond much to that point because I didn't think it was a very insightful point.

Now, if Wills actually wants to generate an argument against this argument for public goods, that's fine. It's just a campaign speech - you probably could put together several successful counter-arguments. But don't put words in Obama's mouth about what the thinks of libertarians, and don't say he's creating a false dichotomy. A false dichotomy is saying "either you think people are atomistic or you think we should have lots and lots of public goods". Obama never said that."

And this was my response to that:

"Why do I feel like I've been sucked into a black hole and came out the other side as Bob Murphy?

"A false dichotomy is saying 'either you think people are atomistic or you think we should have lots and lots of public goods'. Obama never said that."

Alright, Daniel, Obama certainly never explicitly says that. But I do believe this statement approximates what is implicit therein. And somehow I get the feeling that you'd disagree (probably quite vociferously). So let's take a Socratic approach and see if we can broach the core issue more easily:

In the context of Obama talking about taxes, government expenditures, and various public goods & services, what exactly do you believe to be the rhetorical relevance of his foray into the "there are some things we do better together" rant? Is all of this talk actually decoupled from his policy prescriptions? Unless that's the case, then I stand by my previous point(s).

Either he understands opponents of his prescriptions are, in fact, generally not atomistic - in which case, what's the point of his rant? Or he believes those who disagree with his policy prescriptions are somehow eschewing the benefits of social interaction - in which case we have a large non sequitur on our hands."

Now, I think we can be charitable enough to believe that what Obama said was poorly worded...and that he doesn't believe that we have no significant part in building what we do (individually). But I believe what I've pointed out above is a pretty dirty thing to do rhetorically...and as human beings we do this type of thing way too often and should try to not only avoid it, but to call others on it when we see it.

Charity in Argumentation

Over at his blog Gene makes a quick criticism of an argument pushed by Robert Murphy:

When Microsoft and Apple have a dispute, they go to court, and let a judge resolve it for them. But, for, say, drug dealers, government justice is not an option, so instead they (often) resort to violence.

Therefore, concludes Bob Murphy, if we entirely eliminate the government justice system... all organizations will resolve their disputes peacefully!

This is the sort of deft, counter-intuitive logic that makes libertarians so very tricksy to debate.

I don't want to belabor the libertarian resolution to such a contention, but I'll go ahead and lay it out there before I get to my own criticism:

The reason why black markets are notoriously violent is precisely because they are shielded from dominant commercial institutions. By definition, such trade is relegated to the swaths of humanity who've generally resorted to a life of crime in the first place. It's not particularly a mystery that bootleggers during Prohibition had a quite violent way of settling disputes while alcoholic vendors today aren't exactly battling it out on the streets.

The larger question or contention, obviously, are which commercial institutions are necessary to promote peaceful but practically enforceable dispute resolution. Free-market anarchists believe monopolistic institutions of dispute resolution to be not only unnecessary but inadequate, while people like Gene believe they are quite necessary if not ideal. Those who believe in the functional primacy of market competition in the arena of arbitration and conflict resolution appeal to a broad array of economic arguments against oligarchical institutional models. Likewise, those who believe in the primacy of monopolistic models of justice make their own appeals.

My point is not to say who's right here. There's a long and complex debate to be had, and it's already been taking place for quite a while now - with lots of good points made on all sides, I believe. It might not ever be settled with devotees on both sides. My contention with Gene's little reductio ad absurdum is that it proves too little. Both of the regulating forces being lobbied for (trade in an open market and governmental provision of justice) are notably absent in the context of conflict resolution between drug dealers. It's not a simple slam-dunk to assume the full integration of one or the other will magically make all such violent forms of resolution disappear (and, to the extent that violent resolution is still prevalent today - with an institutional monopoly on justice already in place -, a little more humility in the supposed unraveling of opponents' arguments might be appropriate).

This brings me to the heart of the issue - Murphy has never treated it with assumption. He's written and talked extensively on the subject, as have others, pushing economic and political arguments for why such institutional competition would not only be workable, but preferable. Now, you don't have to agree with his arguments. But you can't treat it like these arguments have never been forwarded, and that the statements he makes concerning the subject are mere assertion or that they are somehow disconnected from those arguments.

And this is the problem. Gene used to be on the same proverbial side of the fence. He knows the arguments. Hell, he knows Murphy personally. But, as he does too often, he snipes at the most uncharitable and least fleshed out versions of the standard libertarian arguments. That is to say, if he were trying to make real headway on the subject (particularly with libertarians) he would engage the arguments in their most robust and extrapolated forms. The irony here is that he publicly detests the very thing here that I'm accusing him of doing as a disingenuous ploy - advancing arguments on rhetorical merit.

This isn't to say that he always does this. I actually find quite a few of his arguments pretty devastating. And the ones I find most devastating are the ones where he meets the radical libertarians out on the field, trying to get them to punt away their most advanced arguments; not shit-talking them in the locker room. And when he makes points like the above, I can't help but feel like he's doing something closer to the latter. Gene's a really smart guy. There's no doubt about it. But the chip on his shoulder regarding libertarians sometimes, I think, prevents him from forging his criticisms in the same honest but dispassionate form he'd like to see to see his own opponents employing.

America (Fuck Yeah!)

Unfortunately I haven't been able to find the time nor mood to post too much lately, but hopefully I'll get that turned around in short order. Anyways, since we find ourselves in the most red, white, and blue part of the year, I figured I would share a couple of thoughts on patriotism.

My more libertarian-minded FaceBook acquaintances seem to have the habit of catching a whole lot of heat for inflammatory posts on days like this. I can't beat them up too much for it; God knows I've said some things that have probably pissed more than a few people off. There are surely better ways to affect some sort of outreach, but that's not really what I mean to focus on here.

In some of the comments on one particular thread that was ignited tonight there was some sparring over what patriotism means. And, depending on how any given person referenced the term, about any normative statement made sent everyone else reeling. It became clear pretty quickly that the definition of the word was contested, and, being that no one was interested in defining terms, it's continued to escalate in a pretty dismal way.

In any case, I noticed no less that five different (general) ways in which patriotism was invoked:

1. Patriotism as fealty to people.
2. Patriotism as fealty to culture.
3. Patriotism as fealty to ideology.
4. Patriotism as fealty to (rehabilitatable) government.
5. Patriotism as fealty to the nation-state (in all ventures).

I put these in order from most agreeable to least (for me, of course). And I believe the initial poster was being critical of patriotism as it pertains to #5 and perhaps #4. But the people who were pissed off (mostly conservatives and minarchists) had some variant of #1-4 in mind. Those with #1-3 in mind tried very hard to detach patriotism from the government of the United States of America. But, of course the context of each particular invocation could not be more glaring; the boundaries of these seemingly distinct fealties are all mysteriously very geopolitical.

So you take pride in or swear your allegiance to people. Good for you. But when you're using the word patriotism, specifically, you're not talking about Iranian people, or Chinese people, or Mexican people. No, when you're "patriotic" about "people" you mean to say you're "patriotic" regarding Americans - or, rather, citizens of the United States of America. The same seems to hold true with patriotism in the context of culture, ideology, and government itself. It doesn't seem like we're being pulled to feel patriotism for any one of these things based on specific qualities of each - as surely we are able to find such qualities in different places all over the world. And, yet, we don't feel such associations with them.

Indeed, even within our own nation we do not find uniformities regarding these items. To the extent that there is any real unifying theme to be had among these items, it really does seem to be the banner under which such allegiance is held; an allegiance to the nation itself. So while I can sympathize with trying to divorce the concept of patriotism from the government itself (particularly when you find yourself out of favor with its current incarnation), it does seem like it's the common denominator. And beyond the cognitively dissonant recognition of the flag's prominence in state formalities (from the flagpoles of every public office to the fabric of state-endorsed uniforms), we need look no further than the words of the Pledge of Allegiance itself - a picture of which started the whole FaceBook kerfuffle to begin with:

"I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic, for which it stands, one nation..."

Of course, that's not to say that Bellamy's terse verse excludes anything more inclusive. But it's hard to look at this pledge we take (most notably as children in those wonderfully government-centric institutions we call public schools) and think it's silly that people would think of patriotism or allegiance in terms of the nation-state. There's at least some level of folly in denying what seems so obvious on some level.

Nevertheless we're treated to what seems like an almost self-excusing conflation of terms. It's almost as if we find refuge in these more ambiguous meanings because we want to believe that the nation (the state) was and can still be more in line with what we wish; as if it's a way to escape losing some kind of traditional pride. In it's own quaint way, it's almost a self-enforced excuse machine for the state itself as well. I mean sure, the United States is killing lots of innocent people around the world and encroaching on liberties here at home as well, but that's not important! What's important is this specific set of ideas I like (which only some people share) that was instituted before by one administration or another or could be instituted in the future if we're lucky enough!

You see, there's the REAL America and then there's the not-so-real America. The REAL Americans are people X; the REAL American culture is culture X; the REAL American ideal is ideal X; and the REAL American style of government is government X. To the extent that thing Y isn't thing X, thing Y isn't American. So all the horrible stuff that the government or its people engage in - not American! It's something else altogether. So while you criticize America for Y and Z, it's important for you to understand that America is actually X. YOU DO NOT CRITICIZE X!!!

That really does seem to be how silly things have gotten. In a lot of ways, it's similar to some of the arguments rendered about the Constitution from the orginalist crowd. When confronted with half of Spooner's argument, that the Constitution has failed because it's allowed for all the bad laws and policy thus far, defenders will often retort that the Constitution didn't fail, that simply some of us had failed it. But given the purpose of the Constitution, you're just reiterating the damning evidence! You can retreat to saying something like what the founders intended in it was good, or the particular interpretation that I have of it is good, but that doesn't erase how it is actually being used (or misused)!

This is how some of us feel with regards to self-proclaimed "patriots". You can narrow your definition of this nation or it's governance to whatever you believe to be right or just, and simply view everything else as a coup. If your definition of the United States is just whatever portion of it is in compliance with your ideals, I can't stop you. But I can think it's silly. And I can think that your choice to use these broad national terms to describe a very particular subset of said nation is not only misleading but functionally apologetic. In trying to steal the national rhetoric to distinguish that which you believe to be good you seem to do little more than excuse the things you actually detest.

I'll See You in Court

Robert Murphy, like any other ingenious villain or revolutionary (is there really a difference?), attempts to draw upon certain political sympathies over at The American Conservative. Those familiar with some of his other works will find familiar arguments being made, but with half the sugar and twice the brevity. Unimaginable as it may seem, some commenters are giving Murphy the squinty-eye...and still others seem to wonder what planet he came from. I'd like to explore some of the comments made by someone in the latter group, one "philadelphialawyer":

"Please. Marriage is the worst example the author could pick. Marriage is a contract and a civil status. That’s all the government cares about and is concerned with. The religous aspect of it is of no moment to the government."

You know that famous book, "Men are From Mars, Women are From Venus?" There should be a similar book, switching out the gender-dichotomies for political-dichotomies...and possibly using planets that are further apart to more realisitically aproximate the differences. I feel like I'd be very capable of writing that book. I also feel like I'd be very capable of shipping my first copies to every lawyer in Philadelphia. I know that, maybe, when some people envision "government" what they really are thinking of is something more ideal or abstract - like some kind of Platonic structure converging with reality through the aether. But it's hard for me, as a living, breathing human being, to square that with reality. And, in actuality, marriage is almost the perfect example to illustrate Murphy's point (which is probably why he chose it). While we may hold government to some set of ideal and neutral standards regarding contract and "civil status" (as an asside, you can replace "civil" with "tax" and it will give you better context), the truth is that the people who enact and enforce these rules are placed there by the public - a public which is largely informed by their own particular culture(s). So guess what happens to an institution who not only claims a legal monopoly over the drawing up of such contracts, but also confers benefits and priveleges based on such handling at the expense of everyone else - you get a fight between cultural institutions over what should qualify for such priveleges. And, more to the point, in any particular jurisdiction only one particular view may prevail. So, quite contrary to the notion that political matters remain a-cultural, we actually see roughly the opposite. And, if you don't believe me, or if you haven't opened a newspaper lately, then try obtaining a marriage license with a non-opposing gender. What's that you say? They wouldn't grant you such a license?! Absurd! And why not? Because the law states that licenses are only to be granted to heterosexual couples? It seems so strange that legal custom today seems roughly concurrent with religious custom. After all, the government has no concern for religious custom! Only the people who control the government have concern for that...and we all know that's completely coincidental! Next thing you're going to tell me that governments can be preferential in the context of race or gender! Seriously though, is there anyone with more than one brain cell who believes that public policy is divorced from the cultural values of the voting populace?

"The author talks about “private sector arbitration” to determine who is married and who is not, analogizing to contract dispute resolution in business situations."

I think there is a misunderstanding about the function of arbitration in the context that Murphy is applying it. The functionality he is assigning to arbitration here lies within the context of disputes between the two (or more) parties involved in the contract - not in determining who is married or not.

"An arbitrator, no less than a court, applies legal principles. And, in general, it is the courts and other government institutions that make the legal principles. An arbitration decision flatly contrary to law is unenforceable, null, and void."

Again, Muprhy's focus is not so much in regards to the contract-resolution or enforcement thereof with regards to marriage. Or at least he's not choosing to make such arguments in this particular article. His larger point is that the benefits and priveleges conferred by such contracts with regard to government(s) results in, amongst other things, a heightened state of cultural and social warfare that wouldn't exist otherwise.

"Without a background legal regime, “arbitration” would either be unenforceable, or a crapshoot, or both. Or, arbitration would entirely replace the legal regime, but then it would simply be a different legal regime, no different than the dreaded courts."

The first statement here is a non sequitur. The second statement is simply non-sensical. You can believe that there are bad consequences to removing the current state-based template of justice from the picture. But that's quite different than saying that contracts simply couldn't be enforced without such an institutional monopoly. In fact, the only way that makes sense, from a logical perspective, is if you draw the premise for your argument from your conclusion - if the only people who can do X are removed, then no one can do X. Well, some of us believe it's possible for other people to do X. Saying that a market-driven system of arbitration would be (institutionally) no different than the current system of justice is baffling on it's face. Even if you believe that it wouldn't be a beneficial move, clearly the incentives and dynamics would be incredibly different. Any standard economic analysis of markets, monopolies, and public choice theory will at least get you that far. And, even then, that doesn't mean that contract disputes would be ultimately resolved with any significantly different results. Again, Murphy's argument isn't about the contract itself but rather its political implications given the current (political) regime.

"Of course, there would be nothing wrong, in theory, with a pre nuptial provision requiring arbitration in the case of separation and divorce. But, unlike most purely business contractual relations, marriage affects other people and actors, besides the party."

Is there anyone that believes that legal disputes about other kinds of contracts (including business contracts) don't affect third parties?

"How is a hospital to know who is married (and thus entitled automatically to visiting privileges and, in the absense of written documents to the contrary, to be the health care decision making proxy if the patient is incapacitated) and who is not? Is an arbitrator going to decide whether the gay partner of the patient is “really” the husband of the patient or not? And on what basis, if not on State law?"

These are the kinds of questions that drive men into the heart of madness. I can handle the indirect implication that people who want to overturn the current regime in favor of competing private arbitration have never had a spare second to consider what a hospital might do in the absence of government-licensed marriages. What's particularly disconcerting is the lack of imagination on the part of some of the people who ask these questions. You get the sense that they aren't so much interested in solutions to what they believe to be problems but rather that they are interested in throwing what they believe to be stumbling blocks in front of someone questioning what they perceive to be the "correct" model for the world. In any case, these questions, once again, are perfect examples of Murphy's point. Both hinge on the privelege and force wielded by actors and conferred by government regulation and licensing. In this case we have the government literally telling hospitals who may and may not have visiting or agency rights with regards to patients (resulting, by the way, in the heartache of millions of friends and families who do not currently garner such legal favor from the government). Is it not possible that a hospital, as a service provider, would not be able to meet the general demands of their customers? How far do you think a hospital would get if they made a habit out of denying their patients such services? Do you think it's less possible for legal customs to develop without the outright licensing of marriage? Even if not custom, why couldn't contracts which defer or share agency (marriage or otherwise) be constituted without the granting of government license or its accompanying priveleges? Why would an arbitor or hospital need to be concerned explicitly with what does or does not constitute marriage? Shouldn't they simply be concerned who has customary or contractual obligations concerning such things (whether these contracts constituted "marriage" or not for those dominated by such cultural considerations)? Why are these questions of contract and agency couched in what would be the otherwise religious prospect of "marriage"? And if the term "marriage" is to be believed to be completely devoid of religious meaning then why, again, is the licensing for such contracts and their subsequent priveleges being denied to homosexuals? Or polygamists for that matter? It's bad enough to be so locked up in a particular view of things that a person wouldn't be able to conjure simple questions like these to at least suspend their more simple objections, but to inderectly plea for the preservation of a system which so clearly systemically benefits some at the expense of others is something that I'll never grasp. Yes, please argue that it's the best, or that we could not do better, but don't pretend like the current system is a panacea; that the current regime has it all handled. It's worth noting that the commenter continues on with other examples; not being able to seperate the consequences or enforcement of contract from the ways in which government rewards and punishes certain groups or individuals based on these contracts, and how they inevitably must excert an increasingly liberal amount of control, regulation, and licensure over such interactions - fueling the cultural divide(s). He then goes on to make such laudible arguments as:

"Much as it may pain the author, there is such a thing as a public sphere."

Yes, and I hear that thieves (often unpersuasively) sometimes try to sway their victims to revoke claims of restitution by reminding them that there is such a thing as thievery. It really does settle the question of whether people should or shouldn't steal if you think about it long enough..... Other beautiful arguments include:

"We have culture wars because we have competing cultures, or perhaps more accurately, competing sub cultures. Those differences are not going to magically go away if we shrunk the government."

I like this one because it, if not briefly, actually makes me wonder if I perhaps just dreamed up this entire piece in my head. And that maybe this commenter isn't even real, but rather some figment of my subconscious working itself out - like the way that dreams so inconsistently put together fragmented parts of your memory in a quite inconguent way. But then I shake my head and realize I'm not sleeping. And then I skim Murphy's piece again half a dozen times trying to figure out where it might have been said that cultural conflict would disapear with a smaller government. Instead I find that he actually highlights that there are plenty of institutional/cultural conflicts further removed from government purview that are quite consistent and serious; albeit with not as much pointing of guns within that wonderful "public sphere." I wonder if there's something different about these other issues that keeps all those people in that "public sphere" thingy from pointing their guns so much. Someone should write an article about it...

And the Agorists Have it!

In hearing people go back and forth regarding the on-going race for the Republican nomination I've become more sure than I ever have been that electoral politics only rarely affords us something like a paradigm shift. And listening to my fellow citizens, I'm not quite convinced that it's really a negative aspect of that system. However, what I am convinced of is that it's not going to end up offering a path to the changes I'd like to see anytime soon. That's given me the opportunity to more seriously consider alternate approaches to affecting change. And, while I was never opposed to it before, I keep coming back to concluding that agorism is not only more than a radical libertarian side-project, but rather that it might be our best if not only hope to really shift things in our favor.

A discussion about politics, in practice, is a discussion about institutions. Institutions of all types - we are surrounded by them. From culture to conscience, they permeate us and our interactions with one another. Although not always the case, institutional phenomena are emergent, competing, evolving - garnering use and favor or whithering on the vine. There is one institution, however, that stands as an exception; forcefully throttling nascent rivals. That institution is the current institution of law - that which we call government.

This institution claims for itself something that no other institutions are seemingly able to muster alone - a monopoly. Simply put, competitors are not welcome. This of course plays into the common libertarian arguments against the state; inefficiency, unresponsiveness, bureaucracy, plutocracy, and so on. Those points are understood by libertarians well-enough. However, that should also offer some meta-political insight as to why working through the system would remain difficult for us...even if we managed to create a meaningful groundswell. Creating alternative (even if suppressed) institutions may some day prove to be a seeding that leads to a mighty oak. It might be a long and arduous process. But, if we really believe in the power of markets, we must allow for the possibility (if not probability) that voluntary institutions could eventually break the antiquated chains of government.

Now, regarding everything I've said so far, this has been my general position for a while. But some further contemplating has prompted an even stronger insistence on agorist solutions. Not only do I think that it could represent a good method to topple the current system, I'm starting to have doubts that the system could be toppled in any meaningful way without such alternative institutions in place already. To illustrate the point I'm trying to get at, let's take a look at the oft-despaired anti-libertarian meme that is "Somalia!".

Now, as so many others have pointed out, comparing "no-state" (which isn't quite true, by the way) Somalia with "lots-of-state" U.S. is a bit apples and oranges in some respects. There are obvious differences in culture and tradition. But beyond that the most stark difference is the obvious one of wealth. As nations become wealthier they, and their institutions, can afford them more luxuries. This is, of course, also a dispute even when making inter-temporal comparisons regarding just the United States. Schools, workplaces, homes, churches, hospitals - the conditions of all (as a matter of comfort, safety, and utility) have improved drastically over time. And while wide-eyed supporters of the state point to standards and regulations, I believe even they can understand that much of the "standards" we have now would have been both economically and technologically impossible without our progressive accumulation of wealth.

The fact of the matter is that Somalia is/was a poor country. They had little wealth with which such institutional infrastructures could have been maintained (government or otherwise). Comparing a country like that to ours to "prove" the inefficacy of this or that seems to be a poor methodological choice. We could have likewise compared it to the old USSR and concluded that Communism was superior. Or we could have compared early America to any number of (then) concurrent constitutional monarchies and concluded that a democratic republic is a relatively piss-poor choice for government. Both claims would seem to hold little water today. A more realistic approach would compare Somalia to a neighboring country (with similar culture and affluence) or even Somalia with it's former self. But, of course, that would reveal a stateless Somalia to be an improvement...and that doesn't fit their ham-fisted conclusions.

All arguments regarding the illegitimate nature of these comparisons aside, you'd have to be blind to look at Somalia and not see problems. The question is, what kind of problems? And how can they be addressed? I think pretty clearly the problems are institutional - and therefore the answers must likewise be institutional. The disintegration of their former government, as incompetent as it may have been, left a huge institutional vacuum. In particular, it left a gaping hole in the provision and procurement of law-enforcement, infrastructure, and protection. And yet, in an ironic twist, the crumbling of that monopolistic government left what amounts to tools and cleared paths for standers-by to usurp and exploit. We get warlords and opposed factions reclaiming the resources of the state and vying for power in its wake.

This is actually a more complex version of the rebuttal anarchists are usually afforded in casual political conversation. Even iconic small-government crazies like Ayn Rand pushed this defense of the state; that its absence would breed war in the fight for ultimate power. I think that, even as ideologues, we must concede this possibility - especially when looking to war-torn countries like Somalia. In one sense it's an unfair argument to level at someone. We can't simply rid ourselves of the current institution of law because there's nothing to take it's place. But there's nothing to take it's place because the current institution of law does not allow for it. It's almost a chicken and egg argument. The indictment is equally damning regardless of where you point it. But it remains true, even if it is the general fault of government, that such a vacuum is fertile ground for instability. We might be perfectly righteous in our justifications for dismantling government as it is now, and yet if it gives way to something worse than what we had to begin with, there is a definite sense in which our efforts will have been for naught.

So where does this leave us?

Well, it's hard to say without a good deal of consideration and deliberation. But I know that, at least in my case, it leaves me with the impression that the proliferation of alternate institutions is important not only as a tool of persuasion in conversation or even more directly as a pointed weapon against the state, but as what may be the only effective way to peacefully transition to an acceptable system. It's not only important that people see how markets can function in the state's absence, or that we begin to assemble the institutional battering rams that might eventually allow us to storm the castille. It's important because, for all the wonderful facets of those institutions, immediacy with regards to their existence isn't one of them. I think agorism might prove to be the tourniquet that allows us to proceed with removing the state once and for all.