Michael Huemer’s The Problem of Political Authority is definitely my favorite work of libertarian political philosophy. Dan Moller’s new Governing Least, however, is definitely now my second-favorite work of libertarian political philosophy. The two books have much in common: Both use common-sense ethics to argue for libertarian politics. Both are calm, logical, and ever-mindful of potential criticisms. Both strive to persuade reasonable people who don’t already agree with them. Both are packed with broader insights. And despite these parallels, both are deeply original.
So what’s most original about Moller’s position? Instead of focusing on the rights of the victims of coercion, Moller emphasizes the effrontery of the advocates of coercion:
[I]n my account libertarianism emerges from everyday moral beliefs we have about when we are permitted to shift our burdens onto others. In fact, my account intentionally downplays the role of rights, and is motivated by doubts about what we may demand of others, rather than outrage about what others demand of us.
The effrontery is most blatant when you speak in the first person:
Imagine calling a town hall meeting and delivering the following speech:
My dear assembled citizens: I know most of us are strangers, but of late I have fallen on hard times through no fault of my own, by sheer bad luck. My savings are low, and I don’t have friends or family to help. Now as you know, I’ve previously asked for help from you as private citizens, as a matter of charity. But unfortunately that hasn’t been sufficient. Thus, I’m here now to insist that you (yes you, Emma, and you, John) owe me assistance as a matter of justice. It is a deep violation if you don’t work additional hours, take fewer vacations if need be, live in a smaller house, or send your kids to a worse school, in order to help me. Failing to do so is no less an injustice than failing to pay your debts.
Moreover, calling this an injustice means that it’s not enough that you comply with your obligations by working on my behalf. No, I insist that you help me to force your fellow citizens to assist me. It doesn’t matter if these others say to you that they need the money for their own purposes, that they prefer worthier causes, or if they’re just hard-hearted and don’t care. To the extent you care about justice, you must help me to force these others to assist me whether they wish to or not, since that is what is owed me in light of my recent bad luck.
Could you bring yourself to make this speech?
The fundamental objection to Moller’s position, he thinks, is to claim that governments have “emergent moral powers.” But Moller firmly denies this. Governments are just groups of people, so they are morally obliged to follow the same moral principles as everyone else. While this may seem like libertarian question-begging, there’s nothing uniquely libertarian about it:
It is notable that many who wish to block rights-based objections to state action are nevertheless eager to enter their own moral objections to what the state does. Many of those unsympathetic to attacks on taxation rooted in individual rights also portray the absence of welfare provisions or various immigration policies as “unconscionable.” There is nothing inconsistent about this; the one set of moral claims may be right and the other confused. But the objection then cannot be based on the emergent moral powers of the state. We cannot both reject appeals to individuals rights on the general grounds that morality has nothing to tell us about what may emerge from government institutions, and then do just that, substituting our own preferred brand of interpersonal morality. Once we notice this, support for emergence should shrink drastically, since it will only come from those who think there are no policies of the state that can be rejected on fundamental
moral grounds. The non- emergence assumption per se has no particular ideological leanings.
But doesn’t common-sense morality admit that rights to person and property are not absolute? Of course; exceptions abound. Moller sternly emphasizes, however, that these exceptions come with supplemental moral burdens attached. In his “Emergency” hypothetical, for example, you steal $1000 under duress. What then?
I propose the following non-exhaustive list of residual obligations for cases like Emergency:
Restitution: although I didn’t do wrong, I must repay the $1,000 if possible, perhaps in reasonable installments.
Compensation: to the extent you are otherwise harmed by my actions, I should attempt to compensate you. For instance, if I smashed your windows getting in or forced you to incur some loss because you had to come home at short notice, I must compensate you at some reasonable rate.
Sympathy: it is incumbent on me to convey, if not an apology for my (permissible) actions, at least sympathy for the harm I have caused you. (“I’m very sorry I had to do that” would be the natural if slightly misleading phrase.) I cannot offer a Gallic shrug at your distress and announce, “I did nothing wrong— it’s your problem” as you survey the wreckage of your home. To do so would exhibit a serious character flaw.
Responsibility: my obligations are not just backward looking, but forward looking. If I can reasonably foresee that some action of mine will put me in the position of facing an emergency that will then render it permissible to harm you, I must take responsibility to avoid such actions if possible. I should not think that I have less reason to take responsibility because I can avoid harms by transferring them to you instead. And failing to take responsibility weakens my claim to impose costs on others when the time comes.
A related principle is worth mentioning as well:
Need: my warrant for harming you depends on how bad my situation is. I cannot harm you if I am doing fine already merely in order to improve my position still further. I may be permitted to take your $1,000 to avert a physical threat, but not in order to make a lucrative investment in order to get even richer.
The political implications are expansive, starting with:
A welfare state justified in virtue of overriding reasons to promote the good of the beneficiaries incurs these residual obligations. Flouting them amounts to unfair burden- shifting. What would it look like actually to satisfy them? For starters, if I were the beneficiary of some emergency medical procedure that a third party compelled others to contribute to— say a state agency— I would be obligated to
repay those charged for my benefit, possibly with some compensatory surcharge. If unable to pay, I would be required to pay in installments, with the agency keeping track of my income and tax records to ensure that my repayment were in line with my means…Moreover, in repaying, my attitude toward my fellow citizens ought to be one of gratitude for coming to my assistance, as opposed to viewing these services as entitlements due to me as a matter of citizenship. This may seem curious: by hypothesis, the services I received made it past the threshold, meaning that the wealth transfers involved were permissible, and since I am repaying, they won’t
even be net transfers in the long run, barring misfortune. Depending on how badly I needed aid, aiding may even have been obligatory on a third party. Why should I express gratitude for others fulfilling their duties? Consider the Gallic shrug— that supreme expression of indifference at someone else’s misfortunes, while disclaiming all responsibility for rectifying them, frequently encountered
in Parisian cafés. Why shouldn’t I shrug my Gallic shrug at the rich complaining about their tax bill, and point out I merely got what I was entitled to, as would they in a similar situation?This complaint would be apt if appropriate moral responses were a function solely of whether our acts are required or permissible. But there are all kinds of inappropriate moral responses even when what we have done is permissible or when what the other has done was required. If we are to meet for lunch and an urgent business affair obtrudes itself, I may be permitted to skip our lunch, but
I shouldn’t treat putting you out lightly. What makes a Gallic shrug a vice here is that beneath the outer layer of permissibility there remains an inner structure whereby you have been harmed for my sake, which ought to be a source of concern, leading to some appropriate expression of regret if I am a decent person. And the same is true in the case of welfare services. This is easy to ignore because
of the opaque veils of state bureaucracy. But behind the faceless agency lie people who are harmed for the sake of benefiting me.
Governing Least manages to be at once readable and dense. And though you can’t tell from the passages I just quoted, Moller also repeatedly appeals to and grapples with cutting-edge social science. What, for example, should philosophers think about Greg Clark’s work on the long-run heritability of social status? Moller’s take will surprise many of you.
Last question: Why do I still prefer Huemer to Moller? Intellectually, because Huemer’s appeal to individual rights is just more clear-cut than Moller’s objection to “burden-shifting.” Furthermore, Huemer focuses on the broader case for libertarianism, while Moller self-consciously focuses on opposition to the welfare state.* And while Moller’s book is beautifully written and well-organized, Huemer’s is stellar on both counts.
Thus, if you’re only going to read one book of libertarian political philosophy, I still say you should read The Problem of Political Authority. If you’re willing to read two such books, however, read Governing Least. I loved it.
* Moller: “I also ignore the many noneconomic causes that libertarians have sometimes taken up, like free speech, gay marriage, and drug legalization. This is the fun part of libertarianism
and requires little heroism to defend. Many disagree with such policies, but few think their sponsors cruel or ungenerous, while resistance to the welfare state and programs intended to foster economic equality evoke precisely that response.”
READER COMMENTS
Jason Brennan
Apr 16 2019 at 11:01am
I’m obviously a big fan of Moller’s book, since I wrote the endorsement on the back cover.
I regard Huemer’s book as a book libertarians will like, but it’s a defense of anarchism, not libertarianism per se. He doesn’t quite show that anarchism must be libertarian anarchism, and he doesn’t defend the existence of the civil and economic rights libertarians think we have. Moller does. Moller’s book is an actual defense of libertarianism.
Thaomas
Apr 16 2019 at 11:43am
I look at Libertarians, at least on economic matters, as just the extreme end of the Liberal spectrum defined by a=o in the equation U= a*fr(R)+ (1-a)*ft(T), where R is re-distributive transfers and T is taxation or other coercion. As a pure philosophical preference, it’s unarguable, but it is often defended by an appeal to the results of the function when R or T is at some extreme value. The upshot is that Libertarian too often try to derive policy conclusions without knowledge of fr, ft R or T. This is ultimately just not persuasive.
I don’t know whether these books fall into this (what I think is) error or not.
robc
Apr 16 2019 at 2:18pm
That seems very utilitarian, when many (most?) libertarians are so for deontological reasons.
As far as I can tell from this article, Moller seems to be making a morality based argument against the welfare state, not a utilitarian one.
Gary Chartier
Apr 16 2019 at 9:25pm
I don’t doubt that your reading of Moller is correct. But why distinguish utilitarian arguments and moral arguments? Utilitarianism is a particular approach to morality. So utilitarian arguments are moral arguments.
robc
Apr 17 2019 at 8:42am
I would say it the other way around. Moral arguments are utilitarian arguments, where the utility being maximized is the health of my immortal soul.
But I think we can all see the difference between a utilitarian argument about the proper rate of income tax and a moral argument along the lines of “Taxation is theft.”
Thaomas
Apr 17 2019 at 6:46am
I definitely am making a utilitarian argument, which makes sense for me for small changes. I’m too old to be very much concerned about setting up an ideal system. 🙂 As such, Libertarian WOULD have a strong claim. But I just do not see it a a useful way to think about whether the top marginal tax rate should be 35% or 39% or whether SS should be financed with tax on wages or a VAT, What is the optimal rate for a carbon tax?
robc
Apr 17 2019 at 8:39am
I am an old guy with a very young daughter. I am too old to worry about small changes, they aren’t going to affect my life. But an ideal system would be great for my daughter.
As to your final question, referring to a post you had on another thread, Pigovian solutions are Nth best, first best would be Coasean bargaining.
So 0%.
Thaomas
Apr 19 2019 at 11:46am
I believe you have assumed zero transactions costs in the Cosean bargaining over CO2 emissions. Optimal carbon tax rate>0%
Phil H
Apr 16 2019 at 10:09pm
That looks very interesting. I have now downloaded the Huemer, and will read it, and will read the Moller when I can source it.
Briefly scanning the Huemer, it seems like it doesn’t address my major objection to libertarianism, which is the problem of contracts, in particular long-term contracts. Many of us desire to have rules applied consistently over periods extending over entire lifetimes and multiple generations. I can’t see how that’s possible without a strong coordinating authority, i.e. a state.
It’s not quite on-topic, but I also find this quote from the Huemer bizarre:
“Suppose Job accuses Sally of stealing his cat. He informs his security agency of the theft, and asks them to retrieve the cat. But Sally notifies her security agency that Jon is attempting to steal her cat and asks them to defend the cat. If Jon and Sally patronize the same security agency, this agency may hire an arbitration company to determin to whom the cat belongs, so that the agency may decide whose claim to enforce. If Jon and Sally patronize different agencies, the two agencies will jointly select an arbitration company, with the understanding that both will accept the verdict of the arbitrator.”
Surely I’m not the only person who can spot the problem here? Even if the security agency regards the arbitrator’s verdict as binding, why should Jon and Sally do so? But more fundamentally, take the principal-agent problem out of the equation, if Jon and Sally jointly select an arbitrator, what is their motivation for accepting the verdict?
This is particularly a *modern* problem, because today many more highly valuable assets exist than in the past. (In the past there were a few – castles – and they were the object of constant violent competition.) On any given day, a significant proportion of the population might find themselves in dispute over assets that are worth more money than they can generate in a lifetime. It’s worth going to the mat for such assets – and if you want to pass the asset on to your children, some will regard the assets as worth dying for, and therefore worth fighting to the death for. To hold that kind of competition in check requires very strong enforcement of a very strong code.
Another feature of the modern world is that it is highly complex – in some cases so complex that any individual is now literally unable to comprehend a number of the most important things that happen to her. (Examples: most people don’t understand mortgages; most people *can’t* understand medicine.) So the idea that the individual, through her own contracting can obtain a solution that will be acceptable all round, is unlikely to be correct. For instance, Mabel thinks the doctor treated her father incorrectly and caused his death; the doctor claims the father died of his illness. How is this complex situation to be mediated? There are various solutions, but I can’t see how a solution could avoid some kind of appeal to *authority*; and if the authority is ultimately traceable to an individual (who has interests of their own), then it loses legitimacy. Authority must demonstrate that it stands above/outside of personal interests; Huemer’s vision of a society made up only of individuals seems to negate that possibility.
Thomas Sewell
Apr 17 2019 at 9:13pm
You’re neglecting the incentives to the security companies and others involved.
A contract with a security company is a two-way street. You’re hiring them to protect you, sure, but they’re unlikely to agree unless you also agree in your contract to abide by the rules associated with that contract, such as going along with the verdict of their dispute resolution process. Otherwise, they’re going to have a very difficult time making agreements with other people to hire them, as well as other security companies to keep the overall peace. They’re unlikely to make that sort of exception for a client unless they have a reason to put their life on the line for that specific person’s interest and they’re their only client, a very unusual set of circumstances.
If you unjustly violate your agreement with your security company, then not only are they going to be after you as a result, but you’re going to have a pretty difficult time hiring someone else with your new reputation. Everyone who has to trust someone else with something of value relies on some sort of system of reputation to predict how potential partners will act, from landlords to business suppliers to mortgage lenders. I doubt security companies would be any different, given their incentive structure.
Which leads to your next question:
Do Jon and Sally plan to ever make a voluntary agreement with anyone again? You might say that in some particular case the stakes are SO high that they’re willing to have no one ever trust them again, but it’s hard to imagine many circumstances where that would hold. Would you make an agreement with someone who agreed to an arbitration and lost, then unjustly refused to accept the verdict? Do you think anyone is going to protect that demonstratively immoral person, without at least making an effort to protect them by way of trying to come to a mutually satisfactory agreement with the person they harmed?
More than just Jon and Sally exist in the world. Damaging your reputation through dishonesty may be more severe than it is now, so we’d have to evolve further generally accepted methods of how you’d get your reputation back. I’d guess those would at a minimum have to include a new track record of honesty as well as doing what you can to recompense those you’ve wronged.
Phil H
Apr 18 2019 at 2:57pm
The problem with all that is that an awful lot hinges on everyone behaving exactly as they’re supposed to, all the time. The trust market has to be in perfect equilibrium.
“…they’re unlikely to agree unless you also agree in your contract to abide by the rules associated with that contract, such as going along with the verdict of their dispute resolution process.”
Firstly, at this point this security firm are sounding more like a feudal lord or a protection racket than a legitimate contractor. I form a contract with them and I have to accept their processes?! I do that for things like free email accounts. Only. There is no other situation in which I would happily sign a contract knowing that it then obliged me to accept the company’s verdicts on me. Why would I risk binding myself like that, when I have no guarantees what will happen in the future?
Because markets change! When my security firms hits a rough patch, and is desperate for new business, how do I know what it will do? And I’m now bound to its procedures, remember? Conversely, in any industry, 10% of companies are always going out of business, and you can get great terms out of them. Signing up with one of them would be much more attractive.
“They’re unlikely to…put their life on the line…[unless]…they’re their only client, a very unusual set of circumstances.”
So you agree that this Huemer model is literally carte blanche for billionaires to create their own private police forces? This isn’t hypothetical, bodyguards exist now. Only, in Huemer’s world, bodyguards will be the ultimate justice.
“Do Jon and Sally plan to ever make a voluntary agreement with anyone again?”
Maybe, but maybe they get desperate. And by your reckoning, if they make some mistake and anger their security company, they will henceforth forever be without any recourse to justice? Is that a world that you think is acceptable?
“Do you think anyone is going to protect that demonstratively immoral person”
I just thank heaven that I live in a world where immoral people are protected. The world you describe sounds like utter hell. Did you watch The Handmaid’s Tale? That’s what you’re describing.
I think you’re making the mistake of thinking about what happens when Huemer’s system works right. That is absolutely the wrong way to think about social systems. A good social system is one that gently corrects when things go wrong. The problem with markets is that they work through death: A market leads to higher quality because underperforming firms out outcompeted and they die. But in a world of nothing but firms, that means underperforming people are in danger of dying, too. That’s why a market is a deeply troubling model for a society, or for any of society’s essential functions, like justice.
Phil H
Apr 16 2019 at 10:39pm
More on-topic:
Moller’s analogy to demanding assistance at a town hall meeting is striking, but it’s worth noting exactly how it differs from the welfare argument.
In particular, the person-hood is different. Welfare is not a first person I claiming that a second person you is under an obligation to help me. Welfare is a first person I (perhaps G would be more appropriate!) claiming that both I and you are under an obligation to help a third person her. That’s quite a different kind of a claim, and I think it dents Moller’s argument significantly. Because he’s right: there is something morally suspect about demanding something for oneself. The suspicion is that the person who does the demanding has failed to fully distinguish moral rules from their personal interest. But when a third person makes the same claim, that doubt does not exist. We might dispute the claim of the government that we are morally obliged to help some poor person. But the suspicion does not automatically arise that the government has mixed up the claims of morality and the claims of its personal interest.
This is why so many political arguments are precisely about demonstrating that some group has captured the government, e.g. buying the votes of the poor with welfare; or billionaire interest groups. If we can demonstrate that some interest group is controlling the government, then we can successfully apply Moller’s argument, and discount the moral claim the government makes on our money. But that demonstration has to be made first. With his change of person (from third person “she needs” to first person “I need”) Moller is trying to short circuit that political argument. But I don’t see why we should concede that to him.
john hare
Apr 17 2019 at 5:45am
One of the problems with demanding help for others is that careers are based on doing that. There are a lot of people that would be out of a job if the ones they are supposedly helping became self sufficient. Many of these people will defend their jobs by operating in such a way as to keep unfortunates dependent. From personal observation.
KevinDC
Apr 21 2019 at 1:29pm
Phil H, you wrote “Welfare is not a first person I claiming that a second person you is under an obligation to help me. Welfare is a first person I (perhaps G would be more appropriate!) claiming that both I and you are under an obligation to help a third person her. That’s quite a different kind of a claim, and I think it dents Moller’s argument significantly.” Wait, why does that dent his argument? I don’t see why that’s the case. You are correct to point out that your way of saying things is less likely to make a moral claim seem corrupted by self interest, but that has nothing to do with Moller’s argument. He wasn’t saying the hypothetical claim to a right of assistance shows excessive self interest, he was saying it shows a callous disregard against the people to whom the claim is being made. If we re-write the speech to fit the parameters you described, it doesn’t seem any better in that respect:
Maybe I’m overlooking something, but this strikes me as just as repellent an attitude as if it was expressed in the first person. The only difference is the repugnant attitude isn’t be expressed by Susie, but by the speaker. This does nothing to make the ideas expressed any less appalling, at least not as far as I can tell. What’s the difference?
Phil H
Apr 21 2019 at 10:01pm
I dunno. If you really find these sentiments “repellent,” then I’m not sure I can really convince you. And that’s OK! It’s fine to disagree.
I think it’s worth pointing out how far outside the mainstream your suggestion puts you. You’re against It’s a Wonderful Life! What, do you hate Christmas or something?! Sorry, that’s just a joke, but it shows what I mean about being outside the mainstream. Which, again, is OK, but I think you’re in the position of having to demonstrate why anyone should pay attention to your claims.
You seem to be claiming that it is repellent to make moral claims about what people in society owe to each other (unless that claim is “nothing”). But… it’s not. It’s normal. That’s kinda what “moral” means. We do owe things to each other that aren’t written in any contract, and for one person to stand up in a town hall and say, “I think those things include an absolute obligation to see that no one is left utterly destitute,” isn’t repellent at all.
Another of the rhetorical tricks that Moller pulls is he changes the general claim into a particular one. In your revised version: “You owe Susie assistance as a matter of justice.” That’s a particular claim about Susie – but that’s *not* what the government says. The government says, “You owe *anyone in your community who is in danger of utter poverty* assistance as a matter of justice.” Once again, the personhood matters. The reciprocity matters, too: the town hall speaker is also making an implicit promise to everyone that when they are in Susie’s position, they too will benefit from the same assistance.
You may still disagree, but ultimately, I think you have a lot of work to do if you want to persuade anyone that we don’t have social obligations, much more if you want to persuade anyone that talking about social obligations is “repellent”. I don’t find the argument repellent, so your claim simply fails with me – do you have any other arguments?
Phil H
Apr 21 2019 at 10:07pm
Another point not mentioned here, but worth making: the welfare argument is massively strengthened by democracy.
So Moller’s line, “I’m here now to insist that you (yes you, Emma, and you, John) owe me assistance as a matter of justice.”
Is a caricature of an argument that actually goes:
“I’m now here to propose that you (yes you, Emma, and you, John) owe *anyone in your community who is in danger of utter poverty* assistance as a matter of justice, if you choose to vote that way.”
I don’t mind a bit of caricature – it can be a good way to bring out salient points in an argument. But here the caricature strips away some key features, and it’s importatn to remember what those features are.
KevinDC
Apr 22 2019 at 1:08pm
Thanks for the response Phil. You seem to have misunderstood me on several points. Or more specifically, you’ve ascribed specific beliefs to me that I never stated, and in fact I do not hold. Among them are the suggestion that I am hold the idea that “we don’t have social obligations” or that I disagree with the idea that “owe things to each other that aren’t written in any contract,” for example. I never state or expressed these ideas for a simple reason – I do not hold these ideas. This is a constant and tedious (though not at all unexpected 😛 ) characteristic of the school of thought I share. As just one example, in The Problem of Political Authority, Michael Huemer repeatedly states that he does in fact believe that people have social obligations to each other, and that we have a moral responsibility to take the well being of others into consideration for our choices. That’s just one example, but there have been literally thousands of books, peer reviewed scholarly articles, and popular essays written by people explaining why they both believe in social obligations but don’t accept the welfare state. You might very well disagree with those arguments or conclusions. But to suggest at the outset that people who reject the welfare state must be denying the existence of social obligations would mean at best you’ve made no serious effort to understand the people who disagree with you, and at worst that you have made an effort to understand them, and you’re deliberately misrepresenting our views.
However, I would like to point out a couple of areas where I disagree with some of the things you said, because otherwise, what’s the point of conversation? 🙂
For example, you said “It’s normal. That’s kinda what ‘moral’ means.” I really, truly hope I’m misunderstanding you, but it seems like you’re suggesting “moral” means “whats considered ‘normal’ in a society.” The study of human history is a cavalcade of things that have been considered “normal” in human society at various points but are (and I hope you agree) clearly immoral nonetheless. How widely accepted a practice is in society has nothing whatsoever to do with how moral it is. I really hope this isn’t something you need to be convinced is true.
Additionally, you suggested that democracy makes a significant moral difference. I can’t see why that’s the case. In the hypothetical speech, and suggested a better formulation would be:
To me, that seems to be misrepresenting how integrating democracy actually works. Specifically, that last clause, “if you choose to vote that way.” But that’s now how democracy works, is it? A more accurate description would be like this:
I reject that, because I don’t believe in the divine right of the majority anymore than I believe in the divine right of kings. Now, maybe I’m wrong, and the above description doesn’t accurately reflect how things would work in a political democracy. Or maybe I’m right about the description, but wrong about the morality of the description. Both of those possibilities would spawn interesting discussions. But if the only thing you have to say is to declare that I don’t accept that people have obligations towards each other unless they are written into contracts, then I don’t see any reason why I should take you seriously.
Phil H
Apr 22 2019 at 2:20pm
Hi, Kevin. Yes, fair enough. I haven’t read the Huemer yet, so I don’t know how he (or you) frame the argument.
I don’t feel like you gave me very much to work with! I’d be very interested to see some more. All I really took from your first post was that you thought argument X was repellent; I don’t think it’s repellent; so I’m just left with a clash of feelings, that I don’t know how to bridge.
Could you please explain it to me? Why do you think that (a) we have some social obligations to each other; but (b) if I stood up in a town hall and said, “I believe that one of the social obligations we all have is to help Susie,” then that would be repellent? I don’t understand that bit, and that’s why I jumped to the conclusion that you deny (a). Apparently you don’t! But what criteria do you then apply that makes you find (b) so very strongly disagreeable?
On the bit about moral/accepted in society – I basically agree with you there. The way you bracketed the quote from me is indeed a misreading. I meant to say that making moral claims is normal (it’s a normal thing that we do in society all the time); and then separately: moral claims are precisely about things that we owe each other in society. You agree that we do owe some things to each other – do you agree that that is a moral claim? And it’s OK to talk about them?
On the democracy part – well, not precisely, because democracy isn’t a tyranny of the majority most of the time. What we have is procedural democracy, which, a bit like our procedural justice system, is a way of getting as close to a “will of the people” as possible, and of endowing the results with legitimacy. I agree that I very much simplified democracy in my example; but writing it off as the “divine right of the majority” is just as much of a simplification.
I feel like I can find areas of agreement with you on most of these things, and I’ll apologise for jumping to an incorrect conclusion about what you think – but I hope you will tell me what you actually do think! You made a very strong claim (“repellent”) that I do not agree with intellectually or feel emotionally. Usually I can guess what the underlying arguments are, even when I don’t agree, but I have literally no idea what’s driving your claim. I’ll have a quick browse of Huemer in the meantime to see if I can work out what his answer is.
KevinDC
Apr 22 2019 at 2:37pm
A couple more quick thoughts –
First, forgive all the typos in my previous response. It’s Monday, I have to catch up on work, and my proofreading skills are limited. 😛
Secondly, an analogy occurred to me that might clarify the frustration I have with the sorts of comments you made. I’m an atheist. And I hear from many (though obviously not all) religious people that atheists don’t believe in morality, that atheists don’t care about anything, that atheists think it’s totally okay to run over babies with lawnmowers (really! I’ve heard that), along with a number of other absurd statements.
Now, this is obviously false. Lots of atheists have strong beliefs about morality, and have written innumerable volumes about morality. Set aside whether or not you agree with any of these writings, and just accept for a moment that it’s possible to have moral beliefs without believing in the supernatural.
Now, if a religious person was to tell me “You might think it’s possible to have justified ethical beliefs while not believing in the supernatural, but I think that’s actually false because XYZ,” that would be interesting conversation, and one I’d be eager to engage in. Or if someone said “You don’t believe in the supernatural but you do have ethical beliefs – how does that work?” I’d be pleased to have that conversation as well. But if a person was to say “You don’t believe in the supernatural therefore you have no ethical beliefs,” and went on to insist that “The fact that you don’t believe in the supernatural proves you have no ethical beliefs and if you think you do then you’re just misinterpreting your own opinion,” then I’ll just roll my eyes and dismiss that person as a dogmatic crank.
That’s often what it feels like to be the sort of libertarian that I or Huemer or Caplan are. People aren’t saying to us “You agree the people have obligations to each other aside from what’s in contracts, but you don’t support the welfare state, but that’s actually untenable because XYZ.” Nor do they ask “You believe in social obligations even if they aren’t written into contracts but don’t accept the welfare state – how does that work?” Instead, they just insist “You don’t believe in the welfare state, therefore you don’t accept the idea that people have obligations towards each other” and go on to insist “The fact that you don’t believe in the welfare state proves you think nobody has any non-contractual obligations towards anyone else, and if you think otherwise you’re just misinterpreting your own opinion.” This also makes me want to roll my eyes and dismiss the other person as a dogmatic crank.
Phil H
Apr 22 2019 at 3:30pm
No worries, I get it. I’m an atheist, too, and I can state fairly briefly and clearly where I think my moral and ethical principles come from. Can you do the same with these social obligations that aren’t contractual? And why they make this announcement in a town hall meeting repellent?
KevinDC
Apr 22 2019 at 3:34pm
Hello again Phil!
Thank you for your additional response. Unfortunately, it looks like the format of the website won’t let me post this comment directly towards that response – there’s probably some limit on how nested these responses can get. So I’ll just leave this as a final response to what you said and I’ll just let you have the last word, unless you say something so provocatively interesting that I can’t help but respond. Online forums have limits 😛
First of all, I’m glad to find out I was misreading your claim about the connection between normal and moral. Thank you for clarifying my misreading, and I do fully agree with the way you reframed things.
You wanted to know if I can explain how I believe that people have obligations towards each other but still find the ideas in that hypothetical speech repellent. Well, I can’t give anything like a full or comprehensive account of it – if life was simple enough to explain all these things in the comment section of a blog, this would be a much better world than it is! So, take this as a very light, very incomplete, and not at all fully fleshed out explanation, and understand that I don’t have the time or space to fully define or explain everything, nor to explain all the possible objections I anticipate and how I would respond to them!
The short, short version is that while there are obligations of various kinds, not all obligations have equal claims to equal levels of enforcement. Some obligations and duties are stronger than others, and some obligations and duties, when violated, are subject to stricter sanction and enforcement than others. Even if you have obligations to help and support members of your community, it does not follow that it’s therefore acceptable to use threats of force, violence, and imprisonment to compel people to carry out those obligations. And since all government programs are ultimately enforced by threats of violence, force, and imprisonment, that means there are at least some obligations that exist, which are nonetheless impermissible to enforce through government programs. Nothing about the process or democracy, whether crude majorities, procedural, or otherwise, does anything to change this fact. If we adjusted the hypothetical speech to reflect procedural democracy rather than crude majoritarianism, it would still be like the following:
Maybe it’s just me, but adding in the “procedural democratic” nuance to that does nothing to make it morally acceptable.
Phil H
Apr 23 2019 at 1:48am
OK, so it’s the enforcement part. Fair enough, I can understand that as an answer. I don’t agree with it because I think in general we need enforcement mechanisms. You need enforcement mechanisms for contracts, and for the protection of basic rights. I can’t see why they shouldn’t be extended to things like welfare, assuming that there is some social consensus on the value of welfare. But I can get that you think it’s an overextension. You’re right, this thread is dense enough, let us leave it there, but thank you for giving me a clear answer.
Jens
Apr 17 2019 at 11:22am
@Phil H
Very good reasoning, revealing all the straw men.
S
Apr 21 2019 at 7:41am
I think, in a slightly more extreme case, most of us would actually bite Moller’s bullet. Try the following:
“My dear assembled citizens: I know most of us are strangers, but my son is dying of a curable illness. My savings are low, and I don’t have friends or family to help. Now as you know, I’ve previously asked for help from you as private citizens, as a matter of charity. But unfortunately that hasn’t been sufficient. Thus, I’m here now to insist that you (yes you, Emma, and you, John) owe me assistance as a matter of justice, since you are all billionaires after all.
It is a deep violation if you don’t buy slightly smaller yachts, collect fewer private jets if need be, live in only 17 giant houses instead of 18, or spend less at art auctions, in order to help me. Failing to do so is no less an injustice than failing to pay your debts.”
Do you accept the above moral claim as valid? If so, then we’re just haggling over the price, as the old joke goes.
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