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.

A Rose: Part 2

Gene and Daniel are kicking some philosophical dust up today. Gene starts out by making a simple post lampooning the convenience of homesteading theory (a la Locke) for the gentry at the time. I won't attack Gene's primary point. Not because I don't think it's worth my time, but rather because I think he's generally right, despite the combative tone of his post. Gene has a habit of making belligerent-sounding posts making niche points that are technically if not inconsequentially correct. Sometimes he seems like an atheist that habitually busts through the church doors every Sunday to level the assertion that Jesus in fact lived slightly after the timeline passed down through dogma. He sure seems eager to pick fights with group-x, even when his arguments add up to little in any meaningful sense.

In any case, Daniel backs him up, channelling Proudhon (of "property is theft" fame) no less. His larger point is not that Proudhon is correct in his anti-property musings, but instead that such tautologies are extreme if not misleading. He throws the "tax is theft" mantra into this group and then proceeds to claim that the ideas of property and taxation both necessitate force and coercion and yet neither are sufficiently constitutive of "theft", because it's a word we've reserved for other things.

I'd like to clarify a couple of points here with respect to these ideas. The first is the Wittgensteinian point that a word's meaning is roughly its function. A great deal of political and philosophical ink has been spilled because of our inability to incorporate this idea into our arguments. Properly understood, almost no libertarian makes arguments against coercion - at least not coercion as broadly defined (force, violence, etc.). The libertarian usage of "coercion" arises, I believe, oddly enough, from the colloquial usage of "coercion"...which instead means something closer to "wrongful use of force." As I discussed in my previous post, we rarely consider justified force "coercive." Therefore, shot through the prism of the libertarian understanding of justice, it's not an insurmountable task to try to understand what words like "coercion" and "aggression" mean when a libertarian uses them - force that violates their understanding of justice. So, to the extent that bloggers in recent weeks have been trying to make it look as if libertarians simply oppose force, broadly defined, they may score rhetorical points with the uninitiated. But they're certainly not making a good (honest) argument against what libertarians have been saying.

The second point is the distinction between the relative usage "taxation is theft" and "property is theft." Proudhon's comment and it's poignancy is not unrelated to my first point. The meaning of words derive from their function. And so logical tautologies are a dangerous place to tread when the meaning of one or more of the words is not agreed upon. The concept of property defines the contours of theft. Proudhon's larger point, as far as I understand it, is to say that if our particular concept of property is wrong (whether in part or in entirety) then our current understanding of "rightful" use of resources could/would actually be more akin to the general concept of theft. If, for instance, we conceive that "private" property (Proudhon's distinction) is illegitimate, then land rents would be understood as theft. So the distinction between the thoughts of Proudhon and many of his liberal peers is not that they believe theft to be different things per se, but rather that theft is predicated on our understanding of property - and, as such, our understanding of justice itself would differ. This is where the incongruities between the two phrases (or at least their usage) begin to become apparent (even if Daniel doesn't see it).

When Daniel excoriates those who say "taxation is theft", he, unlike Proudhon, does not hold a principally different account of property rights. He probably believes generally in self-ownership, homesteading, private property, etc. Whether or not Proudhon is wrong has nothing to do with the severity of his claim, or whether force is necessary to back it up. Daniel would believe it's wrong because "theft" is taking control or ownership of that which is already (rightfully) owned or controlled by others...as defined by his understanding of property rights.

So, let me propose a little thought experiment. Let's say that Daniel "owns" a spare house. He rents it to a family. Every month they pay him $1,000 in rent. This past month someone sneaked in and took one month's rent from a drawer Daniel keeps for collecting it. Was it theft?

The Proudhonian will probably say no - because absentee ownership is not ownership at all, and therefore the supposed owner (Daniel in this case) has no right to force them to pay to live in the house. Thus, that money rightfully still belongs to the family - not Daniel. Here, the concept of theft, even for Proudhon, is predicated on who had rightful ownership of the good, not who takes it or for what reasons.

Reciprocally, so long as Daniel believes that this system of ownership (that let's him rent property) is the "valid" one, I expect that he will believe the person who has taken this money to be a thief. This is because Daniel believes, according to his views on property, that he has rightful ownership of the money. The truly interesting part, however, is that if the "robber" was revealed to be the tax-man, we may find Daniel acquiescing and bemoaning the use of the term "thief." In this case, unlike Proudhon, his dispute regarding what constitutes theft doesn't seem to be dependent on his conception of property anymore. Daniel's dispute, in this particular instance, hinges literally on the person who is taking action, without regard to property or rights more broadly.

This is largely what libertarians find peculiar and frustrating about the more general liberal project in the Western World. It's one thing to conceive of a system of property rights and then make the Lockean concession that some rights ought be diffused or trodden over for the purpose of political integrity. It's another thing to think that taking someone's property against their will is theft....except, literally, when it is a member of the government doing it. And, I might add, without deference to any particular kind of government or the nature of it's taking. Presumably government could take everything we own, literally, and it might not qualify as theft at all...so long as it had popular and/or legal support.

In that way, maybe we could call this a populist or legal positivist view of theft. This is what gives much of Rothbard's writing rhetorical heft. He not only sees through these inconsistencies, but fancies their unravelling the predominant purpose of the libertarian philosophy:

"While opposing any and all private or group aggression against the rights of person and property, the libertarian sees that throughout history and into the present day, there has been one central, dominant, and overriding aggressor upon all of these rights: the State. In contrast to all other thinkers, left, right, or in-between, the libertarian refuses to give the State the moral sanction to commit actions that almost everyone agrees would be immoral, illegal, and criminal if committed by any person or group in society. The libertarian, in short, insists on applying the general moral law to everyone, and makes no special exemptions for any person or group. But if we look at the State naked, as it were, we see that it is universally allowed, and even encouraged, to commit all the acts which even nonlibertarians concede are reprehensible crimes. The State habitually commits mass murder, which it calls "war," or sometimes "suppression of subversion"; the State engages in enslavement into its military forces, which it calls "conscription"; and it lives and has its being in the practice of forcible theft, which it calls "taxation." The libertarian insists that whether or not such practices are supported by the majority of the population is not germane to their nature: that, regardless of popular sanction, War is Mass Murder, Conscription is Slavery, and Taxation is Robbery. The libertarian, in short, is almost completely the child in the fable, pointing out insistently that the emperor has no clothes."

Say what you will about Proudhon. He may have conceived of an alternate incarnation of theft, but only through the conception of an appropriately different incarnation of property and rights themselves. The contours of injustice, for him, were properly defined by the violation of those rights - not by ambiguous populist exemptions to those principles. It's not so much that I believe I have quite a different concept of property when compared to Daniel. But rather, I believe that Daniel holds inexplicably contradictory views on the application of certain terminology given what I already know him to agree with me on.

To quote Wittgenstein:

"I don’t try to make you believe something you don’t believe, but to make you do something you won’t do."

A Rose By Any Other Name...

Gene has an interesting post over on his blog that I find myself heartily in agreement with while refusing to cede to what I consider to be the "flavor" of his particular argument. He starts out, fairly enough, pointing out that the broader liberal tradition is rooted in a positive (non-neutral) moral framework. I think most honest liberals would surely admit this much. I know, at least for radical libertarians, that the ethical/deontological arguments are the strongest forms of the libertarian political claim(s). He writes:

"The liberal illusion is this: that liberalism is morally neutral amongst the diverse moral viewpoints held by citizens, and only seeks to create a "meta-framework" in which they can get along peacefully."

As stated above, I think this point is actually fine as far as it goes. And to anyone who believes that libertarianism, liberalism, or even conservatism is devoid of a moral or ethical stance, they need to think about their claim a little more. But he loses me, in the very next sentence, on his usage of "coercion":

"In fact, liberalism, like every other approach to politics, is grounded in and promotes a particular moral view of society, and uses coercion to establish that view."

Gene has danced circles around libertarian arguments by brandishing the bladed qualifier of "idiosyncratic" when terms like "violence", "force", and "aggression" are brought to the table. After all, in the most broadly understood context, libertarians are opposed to none of these things. And if you have second thoughts about that, try to invade the home a self-described "libertarian" of the survivalist movement. You'll quickly find he's not opposed to force.

In that way, I think Gene does bring something important to the table. His argument isn't so much in opposition to principle as it is rhetoric. Libertarians don't (necessarily) oppose force. They believe in a system of justice based on the ethic(s) of self-ownership. So, properly understood, libertarians are against supposed breaches of the right of self-ownership in one or more of its forms. It is not neutral (morally). It does not escape Hume's Guillotine. That does not invalidate the principles therein or the broader idea. But it's an important rhetorical contention.

But I will say this about the "idiosyncratic" qualifier being lobbed at libertarians who use "aggression" or "coercion"; while I think that certain specific uses, topically, are not mainstream (taxes constituting aggression for instance), I do think they are mainstream in their principle application.

For instance, let's look at the word "coercion." The technical usage, as provided by my handy-dandy dictionary, looks something like "the use of force to obtain compliance." If we're using it in that sense, I have no objection to Gene's claim (unless he's claiming that libertarians actually claim to object to "coercion" in that particular sense...which is clearly not true). However I think the more common (read: less idiosyncratic) usage of the term is a little more subtle. Like the term "aggression", we seem to use "coercive" (more often than not) in the context of initiatory (wrongful) force.

Now, we can argue about what constitutes "wrongful" in that sense, but I don't think it's a stretch to see that this is the most common usage - even between people who differ on what constitutes its qualifiers. So, for instance, we wouldn't take pause to a claim of a high-ranking member of a crime syndicate "coercing" a business owner into joining a protection racket of some kind. However, we might give you a funny look if you claimed that the man subduing an attempted murderer is "coercing" the would-be assassin. And, once again, the same applies to terms like "aggression." So I don't think that the the libertarian usage of the terms are really idiosyncratic in principle application - only in particularly cemented political usages.

So my claim here is that the context of such words' usage is determined by some kind of principle(s). If we come to the conclusion that what separates the "good force" / "bad force" dichotomy is simply a clash between broader consequentialist-considerations people and self-ownership/rights people then maybe I'd let the "idiosyncratic" claim pass as libertarians are surely outnumbered in that regard. But it's clear, in a plethora of other contexts, that this deontoligically charged self-ownership view is a prominent part of almost all post-Enlightenment political outlooks. Simply put, there are plenty of people far away from libertarianism who think that if someone breaks into their house and steals a beer out of their fridge that it's wrong (read: "aggression") for reasons that have nothing to do with whether the world was a better place for it or not. No, these people believe they own that beer. And it's that taking of something that is rightfully owned that tinges the forceful taking with the colorful label of "aggression" or "coercion." If the man "forcefully" taking the beer rightfully owned it in the first place, there would be no talk of "coercion".

In this way, the broader libertarian project is focused on bringing disparate parts of the classically liberal tradition back to their philosophical roots; to show them that the foundational arguments against "theft" or "aggression" have little to do with who is doing the taking or why they are doing it. We're attempting to show them how, in terms of every other context they use it in, "aggression" is a violation of the principle(s) of self-ownership. In that light, I think the broader claim of neutrality is relative to the liberal framework we generally already agree on in the Western world. So no, me claiming that I shouldn't be allowed to take the belongings of a peaceful person is not a moral-free (value-free) claim. I haven't figured out a way to get an ought from an is. However, I can certainly (even if wrongly) make the claim that, based on the principals that would lead you to believe that taking someone's belongings is wrong, that taxation itself, for instance, is also wrong. And I would believe, at least if we agree on the basic principle involved, that it is on the person who sees conflicted applications as befitting to show how these two views of the same principle can philosophically coincide. Otherwise, or so I claim, we can achieve the less impressive task of at least deriving an ought from an ought.

If you believe that the "rightful" or "wrongful" nature of force appeals to and is constituted by the principle(s) of self-ownership then your claim of "rightful" force as it applies to taxation is in conflict with other applications you already accept and understand. So maybe the scope of the most common usage of "theft", "aggression", or "coercion" is smaller than that of the average libertarian. But I certainly won't commit to saying it's different in any way (principally) or "idiosyncratic" for that matter.

Again, all of this is actually kind of tangential to this particular post by Gene. So I don't want to give the impression that I disagree with his broader points on "moralizing." But I still find the particular argument/usage I'm pointing out to be contentious. I think it's worth exploring. Where's Wittgenstein when we need him?

Cut Them a Check

On an otherwise boring lunch break, listening to one of my favorite radio programs, I heard a conversation about drug legalization unravel. The general consensus of the hosts and the callers seemed to be towards some kind of legalization or decriminalization. About the only skepticism towards this arose when a supposed DEA agent called in. His claim centered around the current slate of drug-trafficking criminals; particularly those partaking in violent clashes in Mexico. He argued something to the effect that if we took the (black) drug market away from them they'd start engaging in more violent criminal activities (robbery, hostage-taking, etc.) to get their money. Of course, I didn't have the chance to directly engage the caller to see how sound or authentic his hesitations were. But, inspired by good-will-arguing from the likes of Bryan Caplan, my immediate thought was...

"Well, then just cut them a check."

The economic arguments against prohibition are prominent if not well-known. There is a high demand for a certain prohibitive substance. It's prohibition reduces supply to near-zero (legally). High demand and low supply creates an incredibly lucrative black-market for said good. Criminal syndicates form (naturally) to settle disputes and supply protection. Criminal organizations that arose during alcohol prohibition would be an excellent example.

When those substances are legalized, it opens the distribution system to the whole market. Entrepreneurs bolster mass production. Supply rises. Criminals can't effectively compete. Syndicates see black market revenues plummet. This is largely the story of the end of alcohol prohibition in the United States.

So, the agent's argument would demand that these criminals would just resort to other forms of crime. To this I say both yes and no. I would like to point out that the crime syndicates involved with the bootlegging of liquor were incredibly crushed by the legalization of alcohol. And to the extent that they still exist at all, you'll quickly notice that they are receiving most of their revenues by offering a market in other prohibitive goods (drugs, gambling, etc.). But let's put that point aside for the time being.

One thing we have to remember is the ever-true economic point that decisions are made on the margin. Getting involved in drug-running (depending on where in that ladder you happen to be) has a particular cost and reward associated with it. Even if we hold the average financial benefits to be roughly the same (regardless of the nature of the particular racket you're engaged in), the cost is certainly not. I would venture to guess that there are a great many more people, by several factors, that would be willing to engage in the voluntary trade of illicit substances for a certain payoff than people willing to engage in murder or kidnapping for that same payoff. And, again, that's assuming the same general payoff. I'm also willing to venture, again using some basic economic reasoning, that if violent crime like that was as lucrative (given the costs associated with it) that such syndicates would already be doing so with much more frequency.

But, for the sake of this particular point I have in mind, let's just assume that violent crime is much more lucrative (beneficial) than the current trade. So now we're confronted with a group who will engage in precipitously violent acts to get the money they're seeking if we take away the drug market. So let's take a look at a couple of broader points.

Firstly, what are the costs associated with a preemptive war on drugs. We have literally millions of incarcerations of otherwise peaceful people (some claim up to three quarters of all incarcerations are drug-related). Now, even if we were to completely ignore these absolutely egregious violations of human-rights regarding these arrests and detainments, think about all the money that's going towards not only enforcing drug-laws and catching such "criminals", but also to housing, clothing, and feeding all those we brutally incarcerate. Imagine what kind of upper-hand our policing agencies would have against whatever remains of violent criminals if they had all this funding and man-power freed up. Why isn't this factored in?

And, finally, my thought of last resorts goes something like this: Given the tremendous costs I've laid out above, both in terms of the rights of peaceful people and the dollars and cents that ultimately fund this massive anti-drug program, I can't imagine any way in which we wouldn't be better off by just writing such would-be-violent-criminals a check. Don't get me wrong, I think I'd be among the last people to defend aggression on anyone's behalf. But if that total lump-sum payment pales in comparison to the hundreds of billions of dollars that has been funnelled into the war against drugs, and if millions of families will be made whole by the non-incarceration of peaceful consumers of currently prohibited substances, then how or why would a person so worried about violent crime in the wake of legalization not support just subsidizing those people instead.

For the sake of all of us, once again, I say, just cut them a check.

Avert Your Eyes

Over at The Atlantic Megan Mcardle lays waste to the already-vanquished corpse of Ron Paul on the "racist newsletter(s)" issue. She refers to the startling and damning evidence unveiled by WaPo this morning - former associates have claimed that Paul had at least some direct role in his newsletters...sometimes. As to direct involvement in signing off specifically on the pieces in question, it remains not as clear. This prompted tones of finality on the subject for Mcardle and others who, from my point of view, are either being too cute by half or naive on the matter. My understanding of his newsletters was that, like many people with newsletters, it was in his name for administrative reasons, with only occasional oversight and contribution from him. So, unless your belief is that Ron Paul is saying he's never had anything to do with what's published in his newsletter or that he's saying he's been the chief editor for all the pieces, then I'm not sure how the WaPo "revelations" move the chess pieces.

After reading the piece, you're back at where you started. He had some level of direct interaction, but for the most part it was left to his associates. So now there are two floating claims - one that is true and one that is questionable but unlikely. The latter being that Paul himself is a racist - which, in this context, would hinge on if he had direct involvement with the articles in question. He denies it. We know who officially wrote it (read: Not Paul). And there is little, if anything, he's said over his career that should (operative word) lead anyone to believe he's a racist. The other claim, that he had a subordinate working for his newsletter that was allowed to write an article with racists tinges, is obviously true. Meghan Mcardle picks up on this claim, as it is the least contentious, and contends that this makes Paul unfit to be a leader (surprise, surprise). She says this alone should disqualify him.

Let's think about this for a moment. Let's look at some of what the other Republican candidates are bringing to the table:

- Threats of re-intervention into Iraq
- Escalation of hostilities with Iran
- Escalation of hostilities with Pakistan
- Escalation of hostilities with China
- Barriers to trade with China
- Barriers to trade with Mexico
- Economic sanctions against Iran
- Escalation of War on Terror
- Escalation of War on Drugs
- Promises to Run Government "Like a Business"
- No Serious Re-Working or Repeal of the ACA
- A Buffering of Executive Power(s)
- A Constitutional Amendment on Marriage
- Financial Subsidization of the Move to Militarize the Police
- Continued Stimulus and Bailouts
- Continued Policy of Assassinations and Detainment (even of American Citizens)
- Increased Military Spending
- No Serious Attempt to Reform Broken Social Service Programs
- Continued Grant and Protection of IP

Alright, now let's think back to what it was that simply disqualifies Ron Paul in the presidential race according to Mcardle:

- Someone who Worked for Him 30 Years Ago Wrote a Couple of Racist Statements

I have no way to get into Mcardle's head and figure out how and why her priorities for presidential candidates fall the way they do. All I know is that, even if she disagrees formally with the remaining candidates, she doesn't feel any of what I laid out above would disqualify them for her consideration...but that having a former association with someone who wrote something trivially disparaging some years ago is enough to completely throw you out of the running altogether. Her assessment comes down to, "Good leaders with atrocious policies are fit for office. A leader with an administrative mis-step and excellent policies is not."

Mcardle implicitly asks us to avert our eyes when it comes to what a president might ACTUALLY DO, and instead posit our complete understanding of their political merit in the most questionable (albeit ethereal) association they may have had with some other person in their life. Yes, Reverend Wright, America's chickens are certainly coming home to roost. I'm not sure exactly what pseudo-libertarians and conservatives think they're doing by putting Dr. Paul on the proverbial cross, but I think it's a seriously flawed political calculation on their part...and one that will cause them what would otherwise be an electoral victory this time around.

Winning Hearts & Minds with Empty Bladders

In the deluge of hyperbole surrounding the recent primaries we recieve a brief respite. Apparently there are U.S. marines who have been brazen enough to actually defile a corpse. I'll let the shock of all that sink in with you right now...

Alright, now that you're more suitably adjusted for conversation, can I be the hundred-millionth person to take a brave stance in declaring such an act to be morally questionable if not wrong. May I also be the hundred-millionth person to point out that if you don't understand why things like this don't help "our boys" on net in this type of war, then you probably shouldn't be close to affecting anything that would resemble a policy decision.

Let's face it. This makes us look bad. It looks bad to those of us back home. It makes us look bad to the world at large. And, more importantly, it achieves almost nothing outside of giving a half-dozen men a quick laugh and inciting maybe thousands of more men from distant countries and cultures to take up arms against those troops we claim to support. The bottom line is, even if you dismiss it ethically, it's obviously not something we want to be making a habit out of. And it's certainly not something we'd want on public display.

However I would like to make one somewhat contrarian point that stands in at least mild contrast to the outrage of many who think along the same lines as me on the war issue; why is it exactly that this is particularly more outrageous than the actual slaying of the person to begin with?

Let's not even muddy the waters with questions of guilt. Let's just assume, hypothetically, that this enemy soldier had brutalized and murdered hundreds of innocent people. Alright, we've at least largely deemed that this man should be killed - and not in any particularly humane way. So why would it be particularly more outrageous to do something to him that seems far less of an imposition than actually killing him...particularly when the "him" in question isn't even there anymore in any existential sense? He's dead. Now, it's possible, of course, that a large handful of Americans are really haranguing over the disparities of retributive justice - but I said "large handful of Americans" not "the three Anarcho-Capitalists who might actually read this."

Now let's run for a moment with the other assumption. Let's say that you're against our current occupation. We'll even say that you see some resisters as simply defending themselves in some sense or another. In your opinion, the dead "soldier" in question may have been innocent on such an account of the events. But even then, why is there a heightened since of outrage directed at what's done to the body in light of the morally heinous act(s) you believe rendered him dead in the first place? If someone murders an innocent individual and urinates on their body, we might find it peculiar, but I'd like to think the general outrage would still be directed at the primary offense which is the killing itself.

Again, all this isn't to say the actions therein, in this particular instance, were not in poor taste, or that they are something to be dismissed, or, more importantly, that such events won't have serious repurcussions for us down the road in one respect or another. But it is very curious to me - the things we seem to accept so easily and the things that rile us, culturally, in contrast. Gasping over marines urinating on dead corpses seems akin to being outraged that a 9-11 hijacker might have lied about something on his passport. I think you might be missing the larger picture.