By Tom Palmer
It has recently been asserted that
libertarians, or classical liberals, actually think that "individual
agents are fully formed and their value preferences are in place prior to and
outside of any society." They "ignore robust social scientific
evidence about the ill effects of isolation," and, yet more shocking, they
"actively oppose the notion of 'shared values' or the idea of 'the common
good.'" I am quoting from the 1995 presidential address of Professor
Amitai Etzioni to the American Sociological Association (American Sociological
Review, February 1996). As a frequent talk show guest and as editor of the
journal The Responsive Community, Etzioni has come to some public prominence as
a publicist for a political movement known as communitarianism.
Etzioni is hardly alone in making
such charges. They come from both left and right. From the left, Washington
Post columnist E. J. Dionne Jr. argued in his book Why Americans Hate Politics
that "the growing popularity of the libertarian cause suggested that many
Americans had even given up on the possibility of a 'common good,'" and in
a recent essay in the Washington Post Magazine, that "the libertarian
emphasis on the freewheeling individual seems to assume that individuals come
into the world as fully formed adults who should be held responsible for their
actions from the moment of birth." From the right, the late Russell Kirk,
in a vitriolic article titled "Libertarians: The Chirping Sectaries,"
claimed that "the perennial libertarian, like Satan, can bear no authority,
temporal or spiritual" and that "the libertarian does not venerate
ancient beliefs and customs, or the natural world, or his country, or the
immortal spark in his fellow men."
More politely, Sen. Dan Coats
(R-Ind.) and David Brooks of the Weekly Standard have excoriated libertarians
for allegedly ignoring the value of community. Defending his proposal for more
federal programs to "rebuild" community, Coats wrote that his bill is
"self-consciously conservative, not purely libertarian. It recognizes, not
only individual rights, but the contribution of groups rebuilding the social
and moral infrastructure of their neighborhoods." The implication is that
individual rights are somehow incompatible with participation in groups or
neighborhoods.
Such charges, which are coming with
increasing frequency from those opposed to classical liberal ideals, are never
substantiated by quotations from classical liberals; nor is any evidence offered
that those who favor individual liberty and limited constitutional government
actually think as charged by Etzioni and his echoes. Absurd charges often made
and not rebutted can come to be accepted as truths, so it is imperative that
Etzioni and other communitarian critics of individual liberty be called to
account for their distortions.
ATOMISTIC INDIVIDUALISM
Let us examine the straw man of
"atomistic individualism" that Etzioni, Dionne, Kirk, and others have
set up. The philosophical roots of the charge have been set forth by
communitarian critics of classical liberal individualism, such as the
philosopher Charles Taylor and the political scientist Michael Sandel. For
example, Taylor claims that, because libertarians believe in individual rights
and abstract principles of justice, they believe in "the self-sufficiency
of man alone, or, if you prefer, of the individual." That is an updated
version of an old attack on classical liberal individualism, according to which
classical liberals posited "abstract individuals" as the basis for
their views about justice.
Those claims are nonsense. No one
believes that there are actually "abstract individuals," for all
individuals are necessarily concrete. Nor are there any truly
"self-sufficient" individuals, as any reader of The Wealth of Nations
would realize. Rather, classical liberals and libertarians argue that the
system of justice should abstract from the concrete characteristics of
individuals. Thus, when an individual comes before a court, her height, color,
wealth, social standing, and religion are normally irrelevant to questions of
justice. That is what equality before the law means; it does not mean that no
one actually has a particular height, skin color, or religious belief.
Abstraction is a mental process we use when trying to discern what is essential
or relevant to a problem; it does not require a belief in abstract entities.
It is precisely because neither
individuals nor small groups can be fully self-sufficient that cooperation is
necessary to human survival and flourishing. And because that cooperation takes
place among countless individuals unknown to each other, the rules governing
that interaction are abstract in nature. Abstract rules, which establish in
advance what we may expect of one another, make cooperation possible on a wide
scale.
No reasonable person could possibly believe that individuals are fully formed outside society—in isolation, if you will. That would mean that no one could have had any parents, cousins, friends, personal heroes, or even neighbors. Obviously, all of us have been influenced by those around us. What libertarians assert is simply that differences among normal adults do not imply different fundamental rights.
SOURCES AND LIMITS OF OBLIGATIONS
Libertarianism is not at base a
metaphysical theory about the primacy of the individual over the abstract, much
less an absurd theory about "abstract individuals." Nor is it an
anomic rejection of traditions, as Kirk and some conservatives have charged.
Rather, it is a political theory that emerged in response to the growth of
unlimited state power; libertarianism draws its strength from a powerful fusion
of a normative theory about the moral and political sources and limits of
obligations and a positive theory explaining the sources of order. Each person
has the right to be free, and free persons can produce order spontaneously,
without a commanding power over them.
What of Dionne's patently absurd
characterization of libertarianism: "individuals come into the world as
fully formed adults who should be held responsible for their actions from the
moment of birth"? Libertarians recognize the difference between adults and
children, as well as differences between normal adults and adults who are
insane or mentally hindered or retarded. Guardians are necessary for children
and abnormal adults, because they cannot make responsible choices for
themselves. But there is no obvious reason for holding that some normal adults
are entitled to make choices for other normal adults, as paternalists of both
left and right believe. Libertarians argue that no normal adult has the right
to impose choices on other normal adults, except in abnormal circumstances,
such as when one person finds another unconscious and administers medical
assistance or calls an ambulance.
What distinguishes libertarianism
from other views of political morality is principally its theory of enforceable
obligations. Some obligations, such as the obligation to write a thank-you note
to one's host after a dinner party, are not normally enforceable by force.
Others, such as the obligation not to punch a disagreeable critic in the nose
or to pay for a pair of shoes before walking out of the store in them, are.
Obligations may be universal or particular. Individuals, whoever and wherever
they may be (i.e., in abstraction from particular circumstances), have an
enforceable obligation to all other persons: not to harm them in their lives,
liberties, health, or possessions. In John Locke's terms, "Being all equal
and independent, no one ought to harm another in his life, health, liberty, or
possessions." All individuals have the right that others not harm them in
their enjoyment of those goods. The rights and the obligations are correlative
and, being both universal and "negative" in character, are capable
under normal circumstances of being enjoyed by all simultaneously. It is the
universality of the human right not to be killed, injured, or robbed that is at
the base of the libertarian view, and one need not posit an "abstract individual"
to assert the universality of that right. It is his veneration, not his
contempt, for the "immortal spark in his fellow men" that leads the
libertarian to defend individual rights.
Those obligations are universal, but
what about "particular" obligations? As I write this, I am sitting in
a coffee house and have just ordered another coffee. I have freely undertaken
the particular obligation to pay for the coffee: I have transferred a property
right to a certain amount of my money to the owner of the coffee shop, and she
has transferred the property right to the cup of coffee to me. Libertarians
typically argue that particular obligations, at least under normal
circumstances, must be created by consent; they cannot be unilaterally imposed
by others. Equality of rights means that some people cannot simply impose
obligations on others, for the moral agency and rights of those others would
then be violated. Communitarians, on the other hand, argue that we all are born
with many particular obligations, such as to give to this body of
persons—called a state or, more nebulously, a nation, community, or folk—so
much money, so much obedience, or even one's life. And they argue that those
particular obligations can be coercively enforced. In fact, according to communitarians
such as Taylor and Sandel, I am actually constituted as a person, not only by
the facts of my upbringing and my experiences, but by a set of very particular
unchosen obligations.
To repeat, communitarians maintain
that we are constituted as persons by our particular obligations, and therefore
those obligations cannot be a matter of choice. Yet that is a mere assertion
and cannot substitute for an argument that one is obligated to others; it is no
justification for coercion. One might well ask, If an individual is born with
the obligation to obey, who is born with the right to command? If one wants a
coherent theory of obligations, there must be someone, whether an individual or
a group, with the right to the fulfillment of the obligation. If I am
constituted as a person by my obligation to obey, who is constituted as a
person by the right to obedience? Such a theory of obligation may have been
coherent in an age of God-kings, but it seems rather out of place in the modern
world. To sum up, no reasonable person believes in the existence of abstract
individuals, and the true dispute between libertarians and communitarians is
not about individualism as such but about the source of particular obligations,
whether imposed or freely assumed.
GROUPS AND COMMON GOODS
A theory of obligation focusing on
individuals does not mean that there is no such "thing" as society or
that we cannot speak meaningfully of groups. The fact that there are trees does
not mean that we cannot speak of forests, after all. Society is not merely a
collection of individuals, nor is it some "bigger or better" thing
separate from them. Just as a building is not a pile of bricks but the bricks
and the relationships among them, society is not a person, with his own rights,
but many individuals and the complex set of relationships among them.
A moment's reflection makes it clear
that claims that libertarians reject "shared values" and the
"common good" are incoherent. If libertarians share the value of
liberty (at a minimum), then they cannot "actively oppose the notion of
'shared values,'" and if libertarians believe that we will all be better
off if we enjoy freedom, then they have not "given up on the possibility
of 'a common good,'" for a central part of their efforts is to assert what
the common good is! In response to Kirk’s claim that libertarians reject
tradition, let me point out that libertarians defend a tradition of liberty
that is the fruit of thousands of years of human history. In addition, pure
traditionalism is incoherent, for traditions may clash, and then one has no
guide to right action. Generally, the statement that libertarians "reject
tradition" is both tasteless and absurd. Libertarians follow religious
traditions, family traditions, ethnic traditions, and social traditions such as
courtesy and even respect for others, which is evidently not a tradition Kirk
thought it necessary to maintain.
The libertarian case for individual
liberty, which has been so distorted by communitarian critics, is simple and
reasonable. It is obvious that different individuals require different things
to live good, healthy, and virtuous lives. Despite their common nature, people
are materially and numerically individuated, and we have needs that differ. So,
how far does our common good extend?
Karl Marx, an early and especially
brilliant and biting communitarian critic of libertarianism, asserted that
civil society is based on a "decomposition of man" such that man’s
"essence is no longer in community but in difference"; under
socialism, in contrast, man would realize his nature as a "species being."
Accordingly, socialists believe that collective provision of everything is
appropriate; in a truly socialized state, we would all enjoy the same common
good and conflict simply would not occur. Communitarians are typically much
more cautious, but despite a lot of talk they rarely tell us much about what
our common good might be. The communitarian philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre, for
instance, in his influential book After Virtue, insists for 219 pages that
there is a "good life for man" that must be pursued in common and
then rather lamely concludes that "the good life for man is the life spent
in seeking for the good life for man."
A familiar claim is that providing
retirement security through the state is an element of the common good, for it
"brings all of us together." But who is included in "all of
us"? Actuarial data show that African-American males who have paid the
same taxes into the Social Security system as have Caucasian males over their
working lives stand to get back about half as much. Further, more black than
white males will die before they receive a single penny, meaning all of their
money has gone to benefit others and none of their "investments" are
available to their families. In other words, they are being robbed for the benefit
of nonblack retirees. Are African-American males part of the "all of
us" who are enjoying a common good, or are they victims of the
"common good" of others? (As readers of this magazine should know,
all would be better off under a privatized system, which leads libertarians to
assert the common good of freedom to choose among retirement systems.) All too
often, claims about the "common good" serve as covers for quite
selfish attempts to secure private goods; as the classical liberal Austrian
novelist Robert Musil noted in his great work The Man without Qualities,
"Nowadays only criminals dare to harm others without philosophy."
Libertarians recognize the
inevitable pluralism of the modern world and for that reason assert that
individual liberty is at least part of the common good. They also understand
the absolute necessity of cooperation for the attainment of one’s ends; a
solitary individual could never actually be "self-sufficient," which
is precisely why we must have rules—governing property and contracts, for
example—to make peaceful cooperation possible and we institute government to
enforce those rules. The common good is a system of justice that allows all to
live together in harmony and peace; a common good more extensive than that
tends to be, not a common good for "all of us," but a common good for
some of us at the expense of others of us. (There is another sense, understood
by every parent, to the term "self-sufficiency." Parents normally
desire that their children acquire the virtue of "pulling their own
weight" and not subsisting as scroungers, layabouts, moochers, or
parasites. That is a necessary condition of self-respect; Taylor and other
critics of libertarianism often confuse the virtue of self-sufficiency with the
impossible condition of never relying on or cooperating with others.)
The issue of the common good is
related to the beliefs of communitarians regarding the personality or the
separate existence of groups. Both are part and parcel of a fundamentally
unscientific and irrational view of politics that tends to personalize
institutions and groups, such as the state or nation or society. Instead of
enriching political science and avoiding the alleged naiveté of libertarian
individualism, as communitarians claim, however, the personification thesis
obscures matters and prevents us from asking the interesting questions with
which scientific inquiry begins. No one ever put the matter quite as well as
the classical liberal historian Parker T. Moon of Columbia University in his
study of 19th-century European imperialism, Imperialism and World Politics:
Language often obscures truth. More
than is ordinarily realized, our eyes are blinded to the facts of international
relations by tricks of the tongue. When one uses the simple monosyllable
"France" one thinks of France as a unit, an entity. When to avoid
awkward repetition we use a personal pronoun in referring to a country—when for
example we say "France sent her troops to conquer Tunis"—we impute
not only unity but personality to the country. The very words conceal the facts
and make international relations a glamorous drama in which personalized
nations are the actors, and all too easily we forget the flesh-and-blood men
and women who are the true actors. How different it would be if we had no such
word as "France," and had to say instead—thirty-eight million men,
women and children of very diversified interests and beliefs, inhabiting
218,000 square miles of territory! Then we should more accurately describe the
Tunis expedition in some such way as this: "A few of these thirty-eight
million persons sent thirty thousand others to conquer Tunis." This way of
putting the fact immediately suggests a question, or rather a series of
questions. Who are the "few"? Why did they send the thirty thousand
to Tunis? And why did these obey?
Group personification obscures,
rather than illuminates, important political questions. Those questions,
centering mostly around the explanation of complex political phenomena and
moral responsibility, simply cannot be addressed within the confines of group
personification, which drapes a cloak of mysticism around the actions of
policymakers, thus allowing some to use "philosophy"—and mystical
philosophy, at that—to harm others.
Libertarians are separated from communitarians
by differences on important issues, notably whether coercion is necessary to
maintain community, solidarity, friendship, love, and the other things that
make life worth living and that can be enjoyed only in common with others.
Those differences cannot be swept away a priori; their resolution is not
furthered by shameless distortion, absurd characterizations, or petty
name-calling.
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