Current Books:
the Shadow Rising - Jordan
the Road - Kerouac
How We Are Hungry - Eggers
Lectures:
History of the US
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Setting the Stage
If you couldn’t tell from my fixation with government and it’s roles, I’m very fascinated with the idea of social contracts. Naturally, I’m used to examining this topic from a customary angle (read – political philosophy). However, I also enjoy the less well-known iterations of social contracts, both where they are being instituted (classrooms, RPGs) and where they’re breaking down (capitalism).
Well, last weekend I encountered an unexpected example of a social contract: the comedy club.
Take a second and consider the deal we make when we go to a show. When you go to a show, you throw your name into an unfortunate raffle – the comic now has license to mercilessly insult you, even if there’s nothing especially funny about you. In fact, when I go to a show, I’m kind of disappointed if the comedian doesn’t use someone in the front few rows as improv fodder for a few minutes.
This relationship in itself is hardly exceptional – it’s pretty much the dynamic between friends and spouses in every sitcom. What makes this a peculiar social contract is that the relationship is completely unilateral! The comic is encouraged to mock us but, if you throw it back, you’re the asshole that needs to shut up, sit down, and let the man with the mic do his job. And we pay to be in this lottery! Technically, we’re the customer.
The Punchline
I could go on about the peculiarities of this dynamic for a while, but what struck me is that this train of thought led me to understand an important aspect of social contracts: it’s all about the purpose of the union.
In the case of the comedy club, the purpose of the union is to laugh; if one of the marks has to take a hit, then it’s an acceptable loss. What’s amazing is that, as long as we laugh, we all accept this unvoiced dynamic. Even if you’re the one being made fun of you laugh, because that’s the point.
An even stranger variation of this provides some more evidence. When the comedian isn’t even good – when he’s just awkward and drowning – we still laugh. Granted, it’s a different laugh, but we still do our part. As long as the comedian is giving us something to work with, we’ll do our best to make up the difference.
When you think about it, the only time the social contract breaks down is when one of the parties isn’t trying at all. That’s when revolutions happen (in this case, heckling and walkouts).
The Point
So what? So what if injustices can be borne as long as the purpose of the contract is being upheld? (What, what? Really?)
But what if the purpose of your union (say, America) is unclear? What then? Then you get your Andy Kaufman moments (going along with the comedian analogy); neither side is moving toward the same goal and, ultimately, both give up on each other. And, when the social contract breaks down, anarchy reigns. And anarchy, in my opinion, is ultimately best-defined as fighting for only our individual wants and needs.
Self-evident?
Where are we? Are we starting to give up? Are we willing to forfeit something for the good of the contract, or are we just looking out for personal best interests?
Obama was exciting (wow, was that really only a year ago?) because we saw unity. There was a glimmer of a renaissance of the American social contract.
Are we losing steam? Have we forgotten that a social contract, by definition, requires sacrifice? And who wants that?
This is a situation of which I am definitely two minds. Really, it’s a choice of which evil you’re willing to swallow.
Solution A:
Let’s say the government lends (there’s an important distinction between a loan (even with an affordable 4% APR) and a bailout). The advantages are obvious and mostly immediate (which, of course, is why the government’s going with it. Because, frankly, a 4-year (or even an 8-year) term is a short-term perspective).
Advantages:
1) Not all of the 3 MILLION workers lose their jobs (and if you don’t think 3 million workers entering the job market (where jobs are already scarce) at once isn’t going to affect your job (regardless of your industry) or your nation (crime rate, unrest, etc), then I encourage you to cogitate some more).
2) We keep the American auto industry producing. Otherwise, their shells would be bought up by their foreign counterparts. While I prefer foreign cars for various reasons, this would astronomically destructive for our economy as a whole. When we spend money on American-made products, it stays in the domestic economy. However, if there aren’t really any domestic options, then the gross that we spend on cars every year (which is a disgusting figure, and makes you realize why maybe some of those people couldn’t make their mortgages) will all leave our country. In other words, instead of American CEOs making immoral amounts of money (but spending it on 5th & 6th homes that Americans get paid to build), it will be Japanese CEOs making immoral amounts of money, and NO American will really see that money
3) It will put the Big 3 in the figurative pocket (and the literal debt) of the American government which, as luck would have it, just became overwhelmingly liberal. And what is high one the liberal agenda? That’s right, green energy. So, in theory at least, by accepting this loan from the government, the government will be forcing the auto industry out of bed with the oil companies and into bed with themselves, bringing back technology that they already have (the EVs and other electric models) and developing plug-in hybrids (which are estimated at 125 mpg). that alone could be a major turning point in our addiction to foreign oil (our first “intervention,” if you will).
Disadvantages:
1) See the 3rd advantage! The federal government becomes even more of Hobbes’ Leviathan, slowly putting industries that were designed to be relatively independent under the government’s control. Unless, of course, you believe that these loans come string-free…
2) It undermines the very idea of capitalism-as-we-know-it. First anti-trust laws were set up, to put limits on capitalism and to keep the market free from inferior products simply because there is no choice. Now it almost seems as if we’re contradicting those ideas by putting these companies on life support (instead of letting them die a natural death), companies which (unless you haul lots of stuff on a weekly basis or off-road on a daily basis) do have inferior products for this day and age. Now, I’m not saying that capitalism-as-we-know-it is ideal (it’s been revised before, and I think it needs to continue to be revised), but going against a deeply-rooted cultural ethos is definitely a negative.
OK, on to Solution B:
The government leaves the Big 3 to Saints Darwin & Smith, and they unzip & collapse (hmmm… maybe the attack 7 years ago was more of a prophecy/warning and not the main assault… a fleeting thought…).
Advantages:
1) Each American citizen keeps the $81 that it would have cost them to keep the companies afloat
2) The Leviathan continues to grow at it’s normal rate of “fast” (instead of “light-speed”)
3) Capitalism-as-we-know-it is preserved. The collapse leaves a vacuum that, potentially, could be filled by more adaptable, flexible, consumer-conscious auto companies. That’s market evolution, and we know that it works (though, like normal evolution, it requires casualties).
Disadvantages:
1-3) Basically the opposites of the advantages in Solution A
Like most things in life, it seems to be a case of “pick your poison.” I’m still choosing, hoping that I’m just overlooking a third option. Who knows, maybe we’ve built up an immunity to iocane, and so we shouldn’t worry!
And I know that, even though we Americans outwardly seem to be cynics, we are all inwardly optimists. But we shouldn’t fool ourselves into thinking that, just because it all has been OK for as long as we can remember, it will continue to be so. At this point, whichever path we decide to take will have lasting, negative ramifications (the unfortunate consequence of putting an ambulance at the bottom rather than a fence at the top).
But, before we continue down the path of rights, let me diverge and ask a different question (I know, I’m horrible with continuity in serial posts): is insurance the only role of government? Is law solely for protection of rights? What about the didactic power of law? Should that be considered as fundamental a facet of law as its preventative/retributive nature?
Here’s an example of the didactic nature to which I refer:
In the mid-to-late 90s, the internet began to replace cassette tapes as the ideal format for sharing music; while time-consuming and costlier, it opened up new vistas of music beyond the collections of your immediate friends. Songs were shared without guilt and without guile. Then, seemingly out of the blue, there were lawsuits and legislations that told the sharers that what they were doing was wrong.
Now, the debate of the issues of piracy is one for another time, but what -is- worth underlining here is the difference in the attitude of the citizens: some realized that what they were doing was wrong and stopped, others felt the same way but continued, still others believed themselves to be Robin Hoods and developed better ways to share. The point is that, whether or not they agreed with legislation, no one was innocently trading any more.
That is an example of the ability of law to act more prescriptively than descriptively. The underlying issue of course, is, in a democratic system, -should- laws be prescriptive? Or should they mirror the society? If the answer is “a balance of the two,” then where do we find that balance?
When I was old enough to form my own political opinions, I’m ashamed to admit that I opted for simplicity out of laziness. I thought that the role of government was to protect us from foreign invaders and from domestic violence, and that was it. Everything else (economic decisions, moral decisions) should be left to the people. In a world of the quanta, I was firmly sticking to Aristotelian physics. Why? Because it had the beauty of simplicity.
However, as Emerson put it, “truth is beautiful, without doubt; but so are lies.”
For me, its time to reform my opinions of political philosophy. I’ll be starting with the nature and role of government, and see where that takes me. I’ll be doing this without a map (isn’t that the point), so any contributions are welcome.
Firstly, I believe that government (as opposed to anarchy) is a good thing.
While I believe that the idea of governance is divinely-inspired, I don’t believe that specific individuals that govern do so because of divine appointment. In other words, instead of the divine right of kings, I believe that it is more like Hobbes’ social contract – an agreement to give up total freedom in order to protect ourselves should something happen (sounds suspiciously like insurance, now that I think about it).
But I have to stop here, because I’ve already started to overlook some unchallenged premises. Underlying the very principles of government is a fundamental acceptance of Mill’s pragmatism. In order to secure the greatest safety for the greatest number of people, some liberties would be given up under laws (by “liberty” here, I mean the ability to act as you want with no consequences other than those naturally occurring) and some people (the lawbreakers) would have to suffer more than the rest. The liberties of everyone would be given up for safety, and the sacrifice of some would be greater than that of others.
If that makes you uncomfortable, then I completely understand; however, you’ll have to tell me if you know of another way of avoiding anarchy.
So, in trite summary, government is a nationwide insurance program in which we pay a price (namely, complete liberty) in order to receive protection from disaster.
Fair enough. Now, what is the government supposed to protect us from? (This is where party divisions begin. Good times…)
I’ve come to understand that, for the most part, we as humans are simply an amalgam of unconsciously acquired prejudices. Now, I realize that this is hardly a revolutionary revelation on the worldwide scale, but the implications of that realization are finally sinking in with me.
Most (not all, but the vast majority) of what we believe to be true is given to us by others rather than discovered on our own. Now this is hardly a bad thing; the ability to pass down masses of acquired knowledge is what has given us the advantage over other animals. The problem, then, is not the fact that we are taught these lessons, it is that we are taught them before we are able to sift for truth. We are not accepting a gift, but are being inoculated before accountability.
The fact of the matter is that we all have thousands of closely-held beliefs that are not only unchallenged, but unrecognized! Because of this, instead of going through life collecting experiences, then forming beliefs, we go through life filtering our experience to verify beliefs that we neither chose nor are aware of. These predispositions – held only by merit of being injected into us before our ability to recollect – shape our everyday interactions. In essence, we are on a plane where the auto-pilot was set before we were old enough to know where we wanted to go, and then we were led to believe that we are, in fact, the pilots.
Actually, that isn’t entirely accurate. Instead of there being one auto-pilot controlling the plane, there are several dozen, each programmed by a different person, and each with a different destination. At any given time, one has control, that there’s an endless power-struggle between them. We as the passenger are, of course, unaware of this, and continue to think that we are at the helm.
Don’t think that I’m asserting that our parents and communities are aspiring to brainwash us (although that is not outside the realm of acceptable practice). This is simply a natural consequence of living in a structured society. It is how the Code is taught to the young in order to help them function, but it is also the source of prejudice, racism, and widespread cognitive dissonance.
If you have the discipline and the inclination, try to challenge and justify some of your most fundamental assumptions. Is our cultural system of courtship and marriage better than arranged marriages (or even polygamy)? Is capitalism better than communism? Follow the example of children and, for every answer that you produce, respond to it with “why”. You’ll find that, eventually, your answers will stop being rational and will begin to boil down to gut feelings. The thing is, nine times out of ten, the gut is a creature of habit.
This kind of recognition-scrutiny cycle, applied to every one of our unrecognized assumptions, has been the creed of philosophers for millennia. We each need to take a Cartesian meditation and “unlearn what [we] have learned.” We need to take apart what we believe and intentionally re-form them, wherever this may lead us.
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