Tag Archives: Philosophy

More on Ayn Rand

Regular readers can safely assume that I am not a fan of Ms. Rand, but even I was surprised to see the conservative National Review take her to task last week. When even William F. Buckley’s publication calls her both “a nut” and “morally indefensible,” then maybe all those Rand-loving Republicans should revisit their thinking. After all, they probably haven’t read Rand’s books since they were college sophomores.

For a deeply intellectual approach to Rand, check out this blog entry, which compares her philosophy to that of the Stoics and Epicureans.

For a completely non-intellectual approach to Rand, here is another link to the funny GQ article I referenced in my prior post.

Niebuhr vs. The Free Market

The deeper I get into Moral Man and Immoral Society, the more I realize that Reinhold Niebuhr was tremendously prescient. Or, perhaps, the world just hasn’t changed in the 70 years since he wrote the book.

For example:

“Thus, for instance, a laissez faire economic theory is maintained in an industrial era through the ignorant believe that the general welfare is best served by placing the least possible political restraints upon economic activity. The history of the past hundred years is a refutation of the theory….The men in power in modern industry would not, of course, capitulate simply because the social philosophy by which they justify their policies had been discredited. “

And yet, since the Reagan presidency, we have seen nothing but deregulation and an emphasis on laissez faire economics. And even after the meltdown of the past two years, the Right is clinging more than ever to its free market mantra, following the siren song of Ayn Rand, letting the Howard Roarks of the world build their luxury highrises while the city crumbles around them (that was buildings as metaphors and as concrete examples (and THAT was using a word which is a component of buildings also as a descriptive (Thoughtbasket has layers, baby))).

Just yesterday the NY Times reported on how Congress is gutting the Sarbanes-Oxley bill, removing the post-Enron regulations that were meant to prevent corporate chicanery, succumbing to corporate and banking lobbyists at the expense of small investors. Were Niebuhr alive he would be knowingly, and sadly, shaking his head.

The New Republic vs. Ayn Rand

Jonathan Chait of The New Republic recently took on Ayn Rand and her philosophy, and thus he took on the entire intellectual edifice of the right, which is built on Rand’s view that any restrictions on the activities of capitalism ubermen is a moral abomination.

Chait critiques Rand on moral and logical grounds, but he is strongest when he subjects Rand’s worldview to withering factual criticism (see page 3 of his article). Alan Greenspan, a famous Randian, recently admitted that his free-market ideology was wrong. Passages like the below, from Chait’s article, should convince more Randians of the error of their ways:

“In reality, as a study earlier this year by the Brookings Institution and Pew Charitable Trusts reported, the United States ranks near the bottom of advanced countries in its economic mobility. The study found that family background exerts a stronger influence on a person’s income than even his education level. And its most striking finding revealed that you are more likely to make your way into the highest-earning one-fifth of the population if you were born into the top fifth and did not attain a college degree than if you were born into the bottom fifth and did. In other words, if you regard a college degree as a rough proxy for intelligence or hard work, then you are economically better off to be born rich, dumb, and lazy than poor, smart, and industrious.”

J.S. Mill and Financial Regulation

I was recently on vacation, which gave me a chance to reread John Stuart Mill’s On Liberty. This is a classic of the individual liberty movement, and I thought this might be an apt time to revisit it, what with the government nationalizing some financial institutions and making major investments in others, and almost certainly about to heavily reregulate the financial markets.

My expectation was that Mill would provide ammunition for those arguing against government involvement, but I was wrong. In fact, Mill clearly supports a government that is active in many affairs of its citizens, as long as there are definite and specific limits to that activity. As Mill says, “the fact of living in society renders it indispensable that each should be bound to observe a certain line of conduct toward the rest.” (p 70, all quotes from the Norton edition)

But let me take a step back. The money quote that summarizes all of On Liberty is this: “the only purpose for which power can be rightfully exercised over any member of a civilized community, against his will, is to prevent harm to others.” (p. 10) Mill’s basic position is that people should be allowed to do and say as they please, as long as they don’t harm anybody else. If left at this, Mill could easily be read to support a fully Libertarian position.

But Mill doesn’t leave it at that. Instead, he teases out a pretty broad definition of “harm,” and thereby a broad set of circumstances under which government can interfere in individual affairs. Continuing the quote from above, Mill notes “this conduct consists, first, in not injuring the interests of one another.” (p. 70) This sentence alone seems to support regulation of Wall Street, since virtually every trade has a counterparty whose interests are affected. Mill goes even further, claiming that the state can compel certain behavior from individuals: “to bear his fair share in the common defence, or in any other joint work necessary to the interest of the society of which he enjoys the protection.” (p. 12)

For Mill, the default position is to give people freedom, but he recognizes that a civil society involves so many interactions that the default may be infrequent, and thus there is significant warrant for government action. So while there are plenty of reasons to disagree with government policy on the financial bailout, John Stuart Mill is not one of them.

The Myth of the Dehydrating Cocktail

People say that drinking alcohol dehydrates you. We all know the clichés: drink a glass of water between each cocktail, sip water along with your wine, chug Gatorade before you go to bed. Virtually everybody I know has a secret for surviving a long night of drinking, and those secrets always revolve around aggressive hydration. Science agrees, telling us that alcohol serves as a diuretic by inhibiting a hormone that regulates water absorption in the kidney.

I don’t care what science says. I know that my mouth waters in anticipation when I am making a cocktail; how could my mouth make this mistake? Moreover, common sense tells us that the dehydration risk is overstated. Consider the screwdriver, that most basic of cocktails. Two parts vodka to five parts orange juice. Orange juice — so wet, so delicious, so not just for breakfast any more – can’t be dehydrating, not with just two hits of vodka. Or contemplate a single beer, which has the same amount of alcohol as one shot, but diluted down with 11 ounces of sky blue water. That’s 11 times as much hydrating liquid as dehydrating alcohol.

But I don’t even care what common sense says. I reject the myth of the dehydrating cocktail because I know that drinking alcohol is more mental than physical. Drinking is a metaphysical act, transcending any impact on the body. I posit that drinking is an act of self-realization, one that affirms our own humanity. By drinking, we establish that we are more than just physical manifestations; we are controlling our minds, and thus our beings.

How can being drunk affirm the self? Because our minds make us human. Ever since that crisp French morning when Descartes said “cogito, ergo sum,” philosophers have situated the self within the mind. With lesser minds we would be nothing but tall bald monkeys; but with our big brains we achieve self-consciousness, the ontological root of humanity. By drinking, we focus on that human brain, not our bodies. With alcohol we seize control of our mind – its inhibitions and fears, the dark doubts that plague our sober thoughts – and bend it to our will.

Indeed, drinking is an act of free will, of choosing mind over matter. By controlling our mental state we control our very being, rejecting the nausea or dizziness with which our bodies seek to reclaim their concreticity. Just as we choose our minds over our bodies, we can similarly choose to reject dehydration. When drinking I affirm all that is human – and humane – about me; I prioritize my mind, and thus necessarily subjugate my body and its paltry claims of dehydration.

The Everyday Social Contract

The concept of a social contract is not a new one. Theories of society as a collective agreement between its members have probably existed since people first began living in groups. Certainly Plato discussed society’s contract, and Rousseau’s biggest claim to fame is his 1762 book The Social Contract. The big social contract takes the form of following laws and voting and supporting the military and other major responsibilities of citizenship.

But we also enter into minicontracts every day, unspoken rules or little rituals and commitments whereby we all have to play our role to make the whole go smoothly. As an example, when you get on a city bus you effectively enter into an everyday social contract to cooperate with other passengers to make the ride work.

When you get on a city bus, you start looking for a seat. If the front seats are taken, you move to the back. If you see that all seats are taken, so you’ll have to stand, you should also move to the back. We all know this, and if we forget, we’re reminded by the driver, who continually yells “move to the back.” The only way a city bus can fill up to carry all the passengers who want to ride is for standers to keep moving back. But if even one person violates this everyday social contract, the system falls apart. If one person stands in the middle of the bus instead of the back, then nobody can get past that person, and the whole back of the aisle is empty. The back of the bus is bereft of standers, while a zillion people are crowded into the front half. How many times have you been on a bus like this, or even seen it pass by you, refusing to stop because the driver thinks it’s full, when you can see room for 10 more people in the back?

There are many other examples of everyday contracts: behavior on elevators, noise in apartment buildings, driving (go fast in the fast lane, etc.) and, of course, everyone’s hottest button, using cell phones in small spaces. In some ways, we can see the larger social contract of society as being made up of all these everyday contracts. And with these everyday contracts, one violator can cause problems for every other person who signs the contract. The question is how we keep people from violating the terms of their contract. Any ideas?