Does your well-being depend on your PCNs?

 

The accompanying graphic suggests that it does. It is from Michael A Bishop’s book, The Good Life: Unifying the Philosophy and Psychology of Well-Being, published in 2015.

What is a PCN? A PCN is a positive causal network, or feedback loop. The general idea behind PCNs is that a person has a high level of well-being when they are experiencing a self-perpetuating cycle of positive emotions, positive attitudes, positive traits, and successful engagement with the world.

Bishop wrote the book to provide positive psychology with a solid foundation based on “a bit of fairly conventional philosophy of science”. He argues that the philosophical literature on well-being (hedonism, informed desire theory, and Aristotelianism) is too fragmented to provide positive psychology with a solid foundation.

The author observes that positive psychology offers practical, science-based advice about well-being. The explosion of scientific research on well-being has revealed homeostatically clustered sets of feelings, emotions, attitudes and behaviors. That provides the basis for positive psychology to be viewed as the study of the structure and dynamics of PCNs.

Bishop demonstrates that much research in positive psychology can be viewed in that light.

Consistency with my view of well-being

In my view, it makes sense to view psychological well-being as being at the opposite end of the spectrum to mental illness. Felicia Hupert and Timothy So viewed it as being on the opposite end of the spectrum to anxiety and depression. Those authors identified ten symptoms of well-being: competence, emotional stability, engagement, meaning, optimism, positive emotion, positive relationships, resilience, self-esteem, and vitality. They examined relationships among those symptoms in a study using data from a representative sample of 43, 000 Europeans. (‘Flourishing Across Europe’, Soc. Ind. Res. 2013.)

The view of psychological well-being adopted by Hupert and So seems to me to be easier to understand than Michale Bishop’s view that it consists of PCNs. Nevertheless, the two views don’t conflict. At one point Bishop actually suggests that it is possible to understand PCNs by contrasting them with negative or vicious causal cycles involving negative thoughts, feelings, attitudes, behaviors and dysfunctions.

Do PCNs constitute “The Good Life”?

As a neo-Aristotelian, the main objection I have to Bishop’s book is its title.

I am not particularly concerned that Bishop’s approach might be at variance with that of psychologists who claim to have an Aristotelian approach to positive psychology. Those people are well-intentioned but the indicators they use seem to be somewhat removed from what Aristotle had in mind when he expressed the view that human flourishing is a virtuous activity of the soul.

I guess that Aristotle would see a strong positive link between virtue and PCNs. After all, he saw virtue as being about not just about doing the right thing but also taking pleasure in it. Of course, Aristotle also acknowledged that people could obtain pleasure (but not eudaimonia) without being virtuous.

That raises the question of whether it is possible for a villain to have a high level of psychological well-being. In my book, Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing I expressed a view implying that villains can’t have high level of psychological well-being:

“It may be possible for a villain to score highly on positive emotion and self-esteem, but I doubt that a villain could obtain a high overall score in a competently administered psychological assessment.”

I based that view on research findings relating to the dark triad.

Bishop presents a different view:

“In a culture in which cruelty is rewarded, a person naturally disposed to cruelty can have success and a high degree of well-being. This is not a consequence to jump for joy about. It’s just a sobering fact about our world that bad people can have well-being.”

Bad people can certainly have the outward signs of success in a culture in which cruelty is rewarded but I suspect that, even in that cultural context, people who take a stand against cruelty may tend to have stronger PCNs. (I could be wrong about that. It is an empirical question.)

In their book, Modernizing Aristotle’s Ethics, Roger Bissell and Vinay Kolhatkar suggest that humaneness is constitutive of a psychic state humans desire and cite evidence opposed to the widespread belief that ruthless people tend to get ahead in life, love, and especially business. (For references, please see my essay entitled ‘Is it possible for humans to flourish if they don’t live good lives?’, recently published on The Savvy Street).

Irrespective of whether bad people can have high PCNs, no Aristotelian could accept that they are flourishing. The view that bad people can live “good” lives is also opposed to the folk view of what it means to live a good life. (Please see the essay cited above for references and discussion.)

Conclusions

In his book, The Good Life, Michael Bishop argues that positive psychology should be viewed as the study of the structure and dynamics of positive causal networks (PCNs). PCNs are self-perpetuating cycles of positive emotions, positive attitudes, positive traits, and successful engagement with the world.

The view that psychological well-being is deeply rooted in strong PCNs seems to be consistent with the view that it lies on the opposite end of the spectrum to anxiety and depression.

The title of Bishop’s book is at variance with his view that it is possible for bad people to have strong PCNs. I am not convinced that it is possible for bad people to have high PCNs. Irrespective of whether that is so, however, people of bad character certainly do not live “the good life”.

Should Libertarians be Attempting to Influence Culture? A Discussion with Winton Bates and Chris Matthew Sciabarra (I)

 

I have asked Chris Matthew Sciabarra to present his views on the question posed above because he has possibly thought more deeply than any other living person about the relevance of social context to the pursuit of libertarian ideals. The depth of Chris’s thinking on these matters became apparent to me when I recently reviewed his trilogy of books on the dialectics of liberty:

Marx, Hayek, and Utopia, State University of New York Press, 1995.

Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical, second edition, The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2013. (The first edition was published in 1995.)

Total Freedom: Toward a Dialectical Libertarianism, The Pennsylvania State University Press, 2000.

My review has been published on “The Savvy Street”.

In his dialectical approach, Chris emphasizes the importance of contextual analysis across time. The most relevant example is his discussion of Murray Rothbard’s views. Rothbard held that nonaggression is all that is required of a libertarian society, and that could be assured through adoption of a libertarian law code after government ceased to exist. Chris argues that the experience of political freedom is not likely to be fully efficacious in the absence of a supporting edifice of cultural and personal practices.

Before asking Chris for his contribution to the discussion, I outlined why I am reconsidering my views on the question of whether libertarians should be seeking to influence culture.

Why am I reconsidering my views?

Until recently, I was definitely opposed to J S Mill’s position in the passage quoted above. It seemed to me to be woolly thinking to suggest that the sanctions imposed by “prevailing opinion and feeling” were akin to tyranny. I have argued in the past that libertarians should focus on reducing the tyranny of the legal order. It seemed to me that while individual libertarians might take a position supporting or opposing particular elements of cultural change, in their role as advocates of liberty they should focus on issues specifically related to government e.g. constitutions, laws, regulations, and actions of government officials.

I began to reconsider my views before reviewing Chris’s books. After reading The Individualists, an excellent history of libertarian ideas Matt Zwolinski and John Tomasi, I was prompted to write on this blog on the question: Where is the soul of libertarianism? That question stems from the subtitle of the book: “Radicals, Reactionaries, and the Struggle for the Soul of Libertarianism”, and from the discussion, in the final chapter, of the battle between bleeding heart libertarians, left libertarians and paleolibertarians for control of the Libertarian Party in the United States. The Individualists left me wanting to promote the view that the soul, or essence, of libertarianism stems from the nature of human flourishing. I suggested that I would have preferred to see the book end by acknowledging that libertarians are engaged in an ongoing struggle against authoritarianism, as people on opposing sides of the culture wars seek to enlist the coercive powers of the state to pursue their interests.

Another reason for reconsidering my views is because it is becoming increasingly difficult to distinguish between the actions of governments and those of some other organisations.  For example, when interest groups lobby private businesses to adopt particular environmental or social policies, there is an increasing tendency for political parties to become involved by threatening regulation either in support of or in opposition to interest group advocacy. There also seems to be increasing acceptance that governments should take an active interest in codes of conduct adopted by organisations that have traditionally been viewed as independent of government (e.g. universities) particularly if they receive substantial government funding. Another example is the non-transparent influence of governments on the publication policies of social media outlets. It has become increasingly difficult for free speech advocates to distinguish between government censorship and the editorial policies of media proprietors.  

The only reason I can think of right now why libertarians should not be attempting to influence culture is the difficulty they would have in agreeing on what kinds of cultural change they would like to promote. Libertarians are, almost by definition, independently minded people.

With that thought in mind, I will now hand over to Chris.

Chris Matthew Sciabarra’s view

I want to thank Winton Bates for inviting me to participate in this ongoing dialogue, which began with his discussion of my Dialectics and Liberty Trilogy. Next year, I will formally mark the thirtieth anniversary of the publication of the first two books of that trilogy—Marx, Hayek, and Utopia and Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical—and the twenty-fifth anniversary of its finale, Total Freedom: Toward a Dialectical Libertarianism. I will devote more attention to each of these books as we approach their birthdays!

My appreciation notwithstanding, I’m somewhat overwhelmed by Winton’s view that I have “possibly thought more deeply than any other living person about the relevance of social context to the pursuit of libertarian ideals.”

Recently, several articles have been published, lamenting the state of libertarianism—how it has lost its relevance and practicality, how it has lost its way. I can attest to the fact that whatever libertarianism is today, it is not what it was when I first encountered it in the late 1970s. As a twentieth-century offshoot of liberalism, libertarianism emphasized the centrality of individual rights. But this was not a purely propertarian vision. It was a liberal ideal that situated intellectual, political, and economic freedom within an inclusive cosmopolitan social framework.

I often heard the mantra that libertarianism was about getting the government out of the boardroom and the bedroom. I took seriously Ayn Rand’s view that a “new intellectual” movement was necessary to unite the “homeless refugees” in American politics: the nontotalitarian “liberals” and the nontraditional “conservatives.” I took seriously Murray Rothbard’s call “for a new liberty” that transcended the limitations of left and right.

Even more importantly—and in complete agreement with Winton—I took seriously the neo-Aristotelian perspective that any struggle for human freedom is simultaneously a commitment to the project of personal flourishing. Each implies the other. Each requires the other. And each depends upon a culture that nourishes both.

Alas, we are facing a political climate here in America—and in many other countries throughout the world—in which there is a struggle between competing forms of illiberalism on both the left and the right. I have not concealed my view as to which is the greater threat. But illiberalism of any kind anywhere is a threat to human freedom and personal flourishing everywhere.

The opening epigraph of John Stuart Mill hints at the importance of focusing on how power manifests itself in reciprocally reinforcing ways. The approach of so-called “thin libertarians”—that is, those who have argued that freedom does not require a robust defense of anything beyond a nonaggression principle—is so myopic that it collapses in on itself. Somehow, someway, such “thin libertarians” have ushered in, through the backdoor, cultural presuppositions that they believe are necessary to the achievement and sustenance of human freedom.

Indeed, even Murray Rothbard, who once declared the sole importance of the nonaggression “axiom,” notably shifted his support toward what he called “Liberty Plus.” This was an acknowledgement that some kind of cultural matrix was necessary to nourish the freedom project. Rothbard argued that the paleoconservative values of a Christian culture, a “shared ethnicity,” and a “shared religion” were the only bulwark against the “modal” libertines who had taken up the banner of freedom. Hans-Hermann Hoppe furthered this view with a vengeance, arguing that libertarianism could not survive the conditions of “moral degeneracy and cultural rot” brought on by those who engaged in what he saw as the sordid promiscuity, vulgarity, obscenity, and illegitimacy of alternative lifestyles (in other words: anyone who identified as LGBT+).

Given that anarcho-capitalists like Hoppe advocate a society based on the creation of private propertarian fiefdoms, in which property owners can expel any groups upholding non-approved religious, cultural, or sexual practices, or even people whose skin color they don’t like, the very idea of a cosmopolitan liberal order was anathema. In other words, such libertarianism simply dispensed with liberalism, the very tapestry from which it emerged.

That’s not what I signed up for.

I believe that it is partially because of these developments in some libertarian circles that the radical liberal project remains stillborn, despite the gallant efforts of so many fine thinkers who have worked so hard to make the more robust case for freedom and flourishing. That project requires us to examine the systemic nature of tyranny and oppression—that is, the ways in which power relations are manifested on multiple levels in any given society. The cultural level is perhaps the most crucial of all.

And make no mistake about it: Power is not a purely political phenomenon. As Mill suggests, “prevailing opinion and feeling,” can be just as tyrannical as anything political. Indeed, James Madison warned that liberty could be destroyed from the top-down by political compulsion and from the bottom-up by the cultural imposition of conformity. Madison understood that liberty thrives on diversity.

So, in response to the question, “Should Libertarians be Attempting to Influence Culture?”, I can only say that this presupposes an understanding of more basic issues. First, libertarians should be focused on exploring the role of culture in shaping political and social outcomes. And in a global context, this also entails exploring how different cultures may or may not support the radical liberal project.

I have championed the dialectical method because, as the art of context-keeping, dialectics demands that we examine any problem, issue, or event on different levels of generality and from different vantage points. By shifting our perspective on any problem, issue, or event, we emerge with a fuller understanding of the varied ways in which these phenomena manifest themselves. We can then begin piecing together how the parts interrelate and function in a system examined across time.

I will have a lot more to say about these issues in forthcoming exchanges. For now, I’m delighted that Winton has invited me to participate in this unfolding dialogue.

Addendum:

Chris Mathew Sciabarra has also posted this discussion on his blog, Notablog. Please take a look at Chris’s blog.

Can utopian thinking be dialectical?

 

This illustration of the fictional island of Utopia was apparently in the first edition of Thomas More’s book, Utopia, published in 1516. The word utopia was coined by More to mean ‘no place’ or ‘nowhere’, but More suggested that it could also have the same meaning as eutopia, meaning good place or happy place.

Modern dictionaries, such as Mirium-Webster and Cambridge, hedge their bets.  They define utopia as “a place of ideal perfection” or “a perfect society in which people work well with each other and are happy” and also as “an impractical scheme”, or “an imaginary or infinitely remote place”.

Examples of different usage

Both uses of the word occur in some of the books I have read recently. For example, in Marx, Hayek, and Utopia, Chris Sciabarra clearly takes utopia to mean “no place”, when he writes: “In this book, I explore the distinction between the possible and the impossible – between the radical and utopian – through a comparative analysis of the works of Karl Marx and F. A. Hayek.” Sciabarra suggests that for both Marx and Hayek, “Utopians internalize an abstract, exaggerated sense of human possibility, aiming to create new social formations based upon a pretense of knowledge”. Sciabarra notes:

“Despite their differences, both Marx and Hayek embrace a profoundly anti-utopian mode of inquiry. Marx identified this method as dialectics.”

Sciabarra views dialectics as “contextual analysis of systems across time”. (I have discussed application of the concept to problem definition in the preceding essay on this blog.)

An example of the use of utopia to denote a good place is in Fred Miller’s book, Nature, Justice and Rights in Aristotle’s Politics. Miller writes:

“Aristotelian politics has two poles: one is ‘ideal’ or ‘Utopian’, concerned with identifying the best constitution consistent with human nature and with resources that can be expected to be available under the most favourable circumstances or, failing that, the best constitution attainable by a Greek polis; the other pole is ‘mundane’ or ‘empirical’, concerned with maintaining and preserving actually existing political systems.” (186)

Miller recognizes that in attempting to identify the best constitution, Aristotle is posed with the problem of the disparity between his ideal of a community composed of individuals qualified for and disposed to a life of ethical virtue, and the actual characteristics of community members. Nevertheless, Miller argues that “the study of the best constitution will provide guidance to the practical politician concerned with establishing or reforming a constitution in less fortunate or diverse circumstances”. (190)

Although Miller doesn’t mention dialectics, my impression from reading his subsequent chapter, “The Best Constitution”, is that Aristotle’s discussion of ideal constitutions was dialectical. His discussion of the prerequisites for an ideal constitution is preceded by a study of actual constitutions. He also considers factors such as the minimum and maximum level of population required for the polis to be self-sufficient for the good life of citizens.

Apologia

 A few years ago, I wrote a post on this blog entitled, ‘What purpose is served by utopian thinking?’. In that post I suggested that anyone who considers the nature and characteristics of an ideal society is engaged in utopian thinking.

The post contrasts an anti-utopian view and a utopian view. The anti-utopian view is that it is a waste of time to consider whether public policy is consistent with principles that should apply in an ideal society because outcomes are determined by power struggles.

 I suggested that the best way to challenge the arguments of those anti-utopians was to present some defensible utopian views:

1. Since human flourishing is an inherently self-directed activity undertaken by individuals, an ideal society must recognize that individuals have the right to flourish in the manner of their own choosing provided they do not interfere with the similar rights of others.
2. The flourishing of individuals depends on their ability to follow personal values, visions and aspirations that make their lives meaningful. Some of the most basic personal values of individuals – including respect for the lives, property, and liberty of others - are widely shared by people throughout the world.  
3. Progress toward an ideal society occurs when individuals have greater opportunities to meet their aspirations.

I think my argument was defensible in terms of the way I defined utopian thinking, but it would have been preferable to have adopted a more dialectical approach. My main point should have been that it is not necessary to choose between a world of power struggles and an unattainable world in which human nature has been transformed. We are more likely to improve opportunities for human flourishing if we approach public policy issues with a view to both (a) upholding ideals that ought to apply and (b) the real-world constraints that should not be overlooked.

By the way, I still think that much of the thinking that went into “Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing” was utopian, in terms of the way I defined that term. I think it is also true that there is a great deal of dialectical thinking in that book.

Conclusions

In considering whether utopian thinking can be dialectical it is important to be clear what we mean by utopian thinking. Under one definition, utopian thinking is out of this world. Under the alternative, anyone who considers what principles would apply in a good society is engaged in utopian thinking.

Chris Sciabarra adopts the first definition, and accordingly views utopian thinking as opposed to context-keeping and hence opposed to dialectical thinking.

Fred Miller adopts the second definition in his description of Aristotle’s somewhat dialectical discussion of an ideal constitution.

 I draw two conclusions:

1. People who claim to be opposed to utopian thinking don’t necessarily consider ideals and principles to be irrelevant to consideration of public policy issues.
2. People who defend utopian thinking may nevertheless be mindful of the need to consider real world context in considering public policy issues.

Addendum

I would like to draw attention to a response entitled 'Hayek, Bates, and Utopia', that Chris Sciabarra has posted on Notablog. In his response Chris mentions his excellent article, co-authored with Ryan Neugebauer, entitled 'Therapy for Radicals'. He also notes that Friedrich Hayek saw an important and honorable role for the notion of “utopia" in providing political inspiration. 

Is it helpful to adopt a dialectical approach to problem definition?

 

When you think of dialectical approaches the idea that may come to mind is thesis, anti-thesis, and synthesis. As suggested in the sentence quoted above, I am viewing dialectical approaches more broadly in this essay. Before discussing the meaning of dialectics, however, it might be helpful for me to outline why I think problem definition is a topic worth considering.

Importance of problem definition

Fundamental values are clearly at stake in public discussion of some issues (e.g. abortion, the death penalty, assisted dying). 

Most people tend to agree about policy goals when it is not obvious that fundamental issues are at stake. For example, when people are discussing climate change, they tend to agree that exposure to extreme weather events has undesirable consequences for human flourishing. Similarly, when health services are discussed, people tend to agree that illness is undesirable; when education is discussed they tend to agree that literacy and numeracy are desirable; and when poverty is discussed, they tend to agree that it would be desirable for all humans to have the wherewithal to maintain a minimum standard of living.   

However, when a participant in public discussion proposes a remedial strategy, those who disagree often claim that the proposed strategy is built on an implausible view of the nature of the problem being addressed. Much public discussion is about questions such as: Is there really a problem? Is the problem one that individuals are normally expected to manage by themselves, or is some kind of collective action usually considered appropriate? What plausible explanations have been offered as to the causes of the problem?  Should we be thinking about how to tackle the causes of the problem or about how to alleviate symptoms? Which potential remedial strategies should be the focus of our attention? Discussion often focuses on the validity of research findings and other information offered to answer such questions.

Relevance of dialectics

I am adopting here the definition of dialectics proposed by Chris Sciabarra, in his book Total Freedom: Toward a Dialectical Libertarianism:

“Dialectics is an orientation toward contextual analysis of the systemic and dynamic relations of components within a totality.” (173)

Sciabarra explains that “a totality” “is not simply an undifferentiated or all-encompassing whole”. He suggests it could be a two-person dialogue, an economy, or a social system. I will take the “totality” to encompass everything that can be shown to be relevant to the topic under discussion. If a dialectical approach to problem definition is adopted, the meaning of totality would be a matter for consideration in any specific context.

Sciabarra emphasizes that dialectics “is a thinking style that emphasizes contextual analysis of systems across time”. In a dialectical approach, “the aspects of a totality are understood systemically – that is, according to their spatial, or synchronic, interconnections – and dynamically – that is, according to their temporal, or diachronic, interconnections”.

Sciabarra offers his definition of dialectics after considering the use of dialectics from Aristotle to Hegel, and, after Hegel, by Marx, Hayek, Rand and others.

The question I have posed above - of whether it is helpful to adopt a dialectical approach to problem definition in public discussion - is not discussed explicitly in Total Freedom. However, that context seems to me to be one in which dialects has potential to be more helpful than alternative approaches.

In this essay I refer to some issues that have recently been the focus of public discussion to illustrate how a dialectical approach to problem definition would differ from the range of other methodological orientations. I focus on the four broad orientations that Sciabarra has identified: strict atomism, strict organicism, dualism, and monism.

Strict atomism

Strict atomists look at the world as if each aspect of it is separable from every other aspect. A recent Australian example of such an approach is the decision of the government of New South Wales (NSW) to build homes for “essential” workers in Sydney. The rationale given is: “NSW would grind to a halt without nurses, paramedics, teachers, police officers and firefighters, but many can’t afford a place to live in Sydney, close to where they work”. The announcement acknowledges existence of a more general housing affordability issue in Sydney but the government’s approach to dealing with that issue is clearly atomistic.

A dialectical approach would address a range of questions including whether anything is preventing the labour market from functioning flexibly to remunerate “essential” workers sufficiently to ensure that sufficient numbers are available to meet demand for their services in Sydney, and whether government regulation (e.g. zoning regulation) has been discouraging construction of sufficient affordable housing.

Strict organicism

Strict organicism relies on an illusory synoptic vantage point and views all relationships encompassed within the topic under discussion as constituents of a holistic principle at work. I see examples of strict organicism in recent discussion in Australia of the murder of women by their current or former male partners. Some people have suggested that this is a cultural problem which requires a fundamental change in men’s attitudes towards women. For example, Senator David Pocock stated: "we have a huge cultural issue" that needs to be "tackled". "This is going to take far more than some extra funding. This is a fundamental shift in the way that we treat women in this country.”

However, defining the problem as one that requires further improvements in men’s attitudes toward women tends to overlook the potential for other remedial action that is likely to be more effective in protecting the women whose lives are at greatest risk.

A dialectic approach would recognize that many of the men who kill their partners have known histories of violence. Research by Kate Fitz-Gibbon et al based on sentencing remarks by judges indicates that few intimate femicides occur without the offender having prior interaction with the criminal justice system.  This suggests the existence of effective intervention points that are not dependent on bringing about cultural change.

Dualism and Monism

 Sciabarra considers dualism and monism under the same heading. “Dualism is an orientation towards analysis by separation of a system’s components into two spheres”. “Monism is an orientation towards analysis of a system’s components as manifestations of a single factor”. Monists often embrace the dichotomies defined by dualists, while advocating a one-sided monistic resolution.

The mind-body dichotomy is a classic example of dualism. Another is the division of the social world into two spheres – the state and civil society (including the market). Sciabarra notes that dualist statists and dualist anarchists perceive these two spheres as fundamentally opposed and propose to resolve the conflict between them via monistic absorption of one sphere by the other. One side proposes a statist solution whereas the other proposes a civil society solution.

The debate about climate change provides examples of dualism and monism. For example, consider differences of opinion about CO2. On one side of the debate, many people argue that CO2 is polluting the atmosphere and causing adverse climate change. Their opponents argue that increased concentrations of CO2 in the atmosphere have had beneficial impacts on crop yields and the growth of forests. A dialectic approach would recognise that those views are not necessarily in conflict. A central issue is at what CO2 concentration the adverse impacts are likely to exceed beneficial impacts.

Dualism and monism are also evident in the broader debate about action to reduce CO2 emissions. On the one side, some people consider the idea that CO2 emissions influence the climate as a hoax perpetrated by statists to gain greater control over the lives of ordinary people. On the other side, some people claim that the world is heading for disaster if urgent action is not taken to reduce emissions.

A dialectic approach would emphasize the importance of keeping context in mind when considering such issues.

Let us first consider an individual who wants to come to an informed view on whether extreme views of climate alarmists or sceptics should, or should not, be dismissed as implausible. That individual could be expected to spend many hours sifting through available scientific evidence. They might conclude, as I have, that projections of climate change models endorsed by the IPCC are more plausible than the views of climate alarmists and sceptics. On the other hand, they may come to different conclusions, as have some of my friends who seem to be fairly intelligent.

Now, let us consider the appropriate policy response of the Australian government in the light of two facts: Australian greenhouse gas emissions contribute just over 1 percent of global emissions, and on a per capita basis, Australia’s emissions are among the highest in the world. That context has considerable relevance in considering an appropriate policy response:

Climate alarmists should be encouraged to understand that even if Australia’s emissions went to net zero tomorrow, that would have an insignificant direct impact on global greenhouse gas emissions and would certainly not prevent the global calamity that they fear. A policy of rapid reduction in emissions may offer Australia the worst of all worlds – high cost of transition to a low emissions economy accompanied by high cost of adaptation to climate change.

Climate sceptics should be encouraged to understand that international sanctions may be imposed on Australia if this country is seen to be unduly slow in taking action to reduce emission levels.

 Conclusions

 In this essay I have considered whether a dialectical approach is relevant to problem definition in public discussion. I have adopted Chris Sciabarra’s view of dialectics as a thinking style that emphasizes contextual analysis of systems across time.

The examples of problem definition that I have considered – housing for “essential” workers in Sydney, murder of women by their current or former male partners, and the debate about climate change – support the view that a dialectical approach is preferable to strict atomism, strict organicism, dualism and monism.

It could be claimed that context-keeping is something that people who are skilled in problem definition do as a matter of course without declaring that they are adopting a dialectical approach. I have some sympathy with that claim but I note that I have had no difficulty finding examples where people who might be expected to have some skills in problem definition have adopted approaches that can be described as strict atomism, strict organicism, dualism and monism.

Some people need reminding about the importance of context-keeping.

Can discourse ethics help us to assess ideas about justice?

This essay focuses mainly on the discourse ethics of Jürgen Habermas.

Habermas, who will be 95 years old tomorrow, developed a theory of communicative rationality based on the argument that all speech has an inherent goal of mutual understanding and that humans possess the communicative competence to bring about such understanding.

Habermas is a public intellectual, but I haven’t followed his contributions to discussion of topical issues closely enough to judge whether they exemplify the discourse ethics that he advocates. My main reason for interest in Habermas’s discourse ethics is the apparent influence he has had on other philosophers, including Hilary Putnam and Amartya Sen.

In this essay I briefly outline the principles of Habermas’s discourse ethics, the ideological background and motive for his focus on communication, and similarities and differences between his communication ethics and those of Michael Polanyi and Ayn Rand, before briefly discussing whether his discourse ethics offers a normative basis to assess ideas about justice.

Principles

Habermas’s two principles of discourse ethics relate to the philosophical justification of a moral standpoint. The first concerns consensus (or possible consensus):

Only those norms can claim to be valid that meet (or could meet) with the approval of all in their capacity as participants in a practical discourse.

The second is a generalizability rule, or principle of universalization:

All affected can accept the consequences and the side effects its general observance can be anticipated to have for the satisfaction of everyone’s interests (and these consequences are preferred to those of known alternative possibilities).  

(For references, please see the entry on Habermas in the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy.)

Ideological background and motive

The context in which Habermas developed his ideas about communication has been explained by Chris Sciabarra in Marx, Hayek, and Utopia. Sciabarra explains Habermas’s project as an outgrowth of the Frankfurt school, which “attempted to recapture the dialectical method of Marx, while maintaining a Marxist faith in the human triumph over unintended consequences” (Chapter 7)

Friedrich Hayek argued that any attempt by an individual or group of individuals to produce social change would inevitably have unintended consequences. Hayek argued that achievement of Karl Marx’s historical projection of a communist utopia would require a different kind of species capable of total knowledge of the consequences of their actions, rather than humans who are only capable of partial knowledge.

Sciabarra presents Habermas’s ideas about communication as a reconstruction of Marx’s project to focus on empirical conditions under which people could engage in practical, transformative social action. Habermas’s ideal society is one based on non-exploitative social relations. He views all social systems as networks of communicative actions, and argues that the institutions of power depend on and perpetuate a distorted form of social communication.

Habermas argues that if people could master ideal speech they would move towards the goals of truth, freedom and justice. One of the important characteristics of ideal speech is that the speaker must want to express his intentions truthfully so that the hearer can believe in (or trust) the utterance of the speaker. Participants learn to trust one another and share value orientations when speech is free from deception and other forms of communicative distortion. Habermas suggests that social consensus will emerge as people achieve communicative competence. (My intention is to convey the gist of Habermas’s argument without distorting it but my account has all the limitations of a summary of a summary.)

Comparison with Polanyi and Rand

Michael Polanyi was a polymath whose understanding of the importance of tacit knowledge was largely endorsed by Hayek. Sciabarra presents a quote from Polanyi which suggests that his position on communication differs little from that of Habermas. Both emphasised the importance of trust in communication and the potential for shared values to emerge from dialogue. However, Sciabarra also notes a crucial difference between them. While Habermas argued that the tacit component of dialogue could be fully articulated, Polanyi held that this was not possible.

Habermas argues that depth hermeneutics, a form of psychoanalysis, could make explicit the tacit causal connections that take place in an individual’s subconscious, overcoming blocks to consciousness, and enabling a reintegration to occur. One goal of this process is intersubjectivity – enabling participants in discussions to exchange roles with one another in expressing their needs and interests.

Sciabarra discusses the similarity and differences between Ayn Rand’s communication ethics and those of Habermas in Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical. Rand recognized that honesty is an essential component of rational human relations and fully understood the exploitive nature of strategic forms of communication. Rand’s followers emphasize that self-deception is distortive of an individual’s efficacy and communicative competence.

Sciabarra suggests that an “emphasis on communicative truthfulness, self-awareness, and “de-repression” is as crucial to the Randian project as it is to Habermasian discourse theory”. (293) He suggests that “she sustained a belief in a conflict-free society of individuals united by their common love for the same values” (355). However, Rand’s values differed from those of Habermas: She “would have vehemently rejected Habermas’s emphasis on “intersubjectivity” and the social consensus of norms”. (291)

Relevance to ideas about justice

If we are seeking to reach agreement with others it seems obvious that we should seek to understand the basis for their points of view. For example, if a person is engaged in a discussion with his or her spouse about who should cook dinner, agreement is more likely if each party understands why the other might or might not want to cook on a particular day.

In the example I have just given, both parties have a strong incentive to reach agreement to enable a harmonious relationship to continue. It is also possible to think of contexts at a societal level where people have a strong incentive to reach agreement and are willing to set aside differences in current interests in making collective decisions. James Buchanan and Gordon Tulloch suggested that when individuals are considering constitutional rules that they expect to be in place for a long time, they may be able to set aside current interests because they are uncertain about what their interests will be in any of the long chain of collective choices made according to those rules. (The Calculus of Consent) I wonder if Habermas would approve if the participants in a constitutional convention agreed to rules protecting individual rights to property ownership.

This brings me to a fundamental problem with Habermas’s generalizability rule. Douglas Rasmussen pointed this out. (‘Political legitimacy and discourse ethics’, International Philosophical Quarterly, March 1992) According to Habermas, the “moral point of view” requires one to consider the satisfaction of one’s own needs and interests from an impersonal point of view – from a point of view which treats the fact that some needs and interests are uniquely yours as being of no consequence. Rasmussen points out that this so called “moral point of view” is not compatible with the moral reasoning of real people in real situations:

“One cannot even recognize his own life as his and his own reasoning as his very own if in order to play the moral game one must forgo all special attachments to ends that are uniquely one’s own.” (30)

Rasmussen concludes by noting that values associated with modernity, including recognition of the inherent worth of the individual human being, are inconsistent with Habermas’s “moral view”:

“Such a modern view, then, does not call for theoretical attempts to paper over the real and legitimate differences among the values and projects of individuals by attempting artificially to induce consensus through a generalizability of interests rule or by appealing to the so called “moral point of view”. Rather, it requires that one accept the moral propriety of pluralism and individualism, and from this starting point attempt the difficult task of constructing a theory of justice.” (34)

Conclusions

Jürgen Habermas has proposed that principles of discourse ethics can provide a normative basis to assess ideas about justice.

Habermas developed his principles of discourse ethics while reconstructing Marx’s project. He envisaged that the potential for “ideal speech” could enable a social consensus to emerge for movement towards the goals of truth, freedom, and justice.

Habermas’s discourse ethics is similar in some respects to the views of communication ethics advocated by Michael Polanyi and Ayn Rand. However, unlike Polanyi, Habermas argued that the tacit component of dialogue could be fully articulated. Unlike Rand, Habermas argued for intersubjectivity, which amounts to adoption of an impersonal point of view.

There is a fundamental problem in applying Habermas’s principles of discourse ethics to assess ideas about justice. Habermas’s generalizability rule seeks to artificially induce consensus by papering over legitimate differences among values held by individuals. 

Addendum

Readers may also be interested in Chris Sciabarra's discussion of possible libertarian applications of Habermas's view in a section on "Dialogical Models" in libertarian thought, in Chapter 9 of "Total Freedom". That section surveys various thinkers in Austrian and libertarian traditions. 

Is Alexander Hamilton's ideal of a modern commercial republic still relevant today?

 

Alexander Hamilton was one of the Founding Fathers of the United States. He served as secretary to the Treasury from 1789 to 1795 during the presidency of George Washington.

I knew little about Alexander Hamilton’s contribution to American economic policy before reading Samuel Gregg’s book, The Next American Economy: Nation, State, and Markets in an Uncertain World, 2022. Gregg suggests that America faces a choice between a form of state capitalism – top-down interventionism focused on achieving political objectives such as greater economic security for specific groups and “national security” – and a free market economy. He argues that in making the case for free markets it is helpful to take another look at the ideal of a modern commercial republic as espoused by Alexander Hamilton.

Centralization of powers

Prior to reading Gregg’s book, I knew that Hamilton had argued successfully for greater centralization of government powers than prevailed in the original confederation. On that basis, I had entertained the idea that he might possibly have been responsible for much that is wrong with the U.S. today.

Gregg presents a more positive view of Hamilton’s contribution. He suggests that integration of the states into a more unified commercial republic made it easier for Hamilton to apply principles of free trade among the states and between the U.S. and other countries.

Gregg’s line of reasoning poses a challenge both to libertarian globalists, who see national governments as the source of barriers to the functioning of free markets, and to economic nationalists who want governments to prevent foreign economic competition because they see it as a threat to national sovereignty. He challenges libertarian globalists by suggesting that “failure by the government to smooth the economic ups and downs which are part of life in a market economy risks opening the door to political movements that have no particular regard for human freedom”. He challenges economic nationalists by suggesting that tariffs and other measures that protect of American industry from foreign competition are harmful to Americans.

 It isn’t necessary for libertarian globalists, like myself, to abandon utopian thinking in order to see merit in effective unilateral action by national governments to promote free trade. At a national level, the case for free trade rests on it providing individual citizens and their descendants with the prospect of better opportunities than would otherwise be available to them.

To eliminate the excesses of statism, it is necessary for political leaders to exercise statecraft (or what Adam Smith and David Hume referred to as “the science of the legislator”. As Gregg puts it Smith and Hume recognized that:

 “the knowledge furnished by … integration of moral, political, and economic inquiry needed to be brought to bear upon society by statesmen and governments in the interests of its improvement”.

Gregg notes that although Edmund Burke’s involvement in economic policy was “attuned to political realities” he leaned strongly towards promoting greater commercial freedom within Britain’s empire and between Britain and other nations.

America’s Founding Fathers, including Alexander Hamilton, were also influenced by Adam Smith and David Hume.

Hamilton’s vision of a commercial republic

Samuel Gregg explains how Hamilton advanced his vision of a commercial republic in his contributions to the Federalist Papers and in his role as secretary to the Treasury. Hamilton’s vision of a modern civilized nation combined republican government and a private enterprise economy, with merchants subject to the discipline of competitive markets. He hints that character traits that make for commercial success – industry, innovation, economy, self-restraint, honesty, prudence – are also republican virtues.

Hamilton argued for free trade between the states and for revenue tariffs only on international trade. He suggested that tariffs “force industry out of its more natural channels into others in which it flows with less advantage”. He maintained that trade policy should be driven by national interest and was adamantly opposed to use of trade sanctions as an instrument of foreign policy.

What next?

Samuel Gregg ends his book by acknowledging that he doesn’t know whether there is a real possibility that an American commercial republic could emerge to shape America’s future. He hopes that it could on the basis that he can “see no reason why America cannot embrace the habits, incentives, and disciplines associated with markets while also grounding them in the language, norms, and virtues of the American experiment”.

Since 2022, when Gregg’s book was published, it has become clearer that the U.S. is likely to continue, for a few more years at least, down the path towards greater international trade protectionism.  The choice that the two major political parties are offering voters in the 2024 presidential election certainly does not include a candidate offering an alternative to higher trade barriers.

Unfortunately, the adverse impacts of increased trade protectionism in the U.S. cannot be guaranteed to result in a strong impetus for policy reversal. The U.S. economy is sufficiently large and diverse that increased barriers to international trade are likely to have relatively minor adverse impacts by comparison with those that would occur in most other countries if they followed similar policies.

It looks to me as though trade liberalisation is unlikely to occur in the U.S. until influential politicians come to see merit, from a foreign policy perspective, in supporting multilateral efforts to encourage trade among countries that have more than minimal regard for free market principles.

Meanwhile, Samuel Gregg’s book will hopefully be widely read in other countries where some current political leaders may be more receptive to Alexander Hamilton’s vision of a commercial republic based on free market principles.

Conclusion

Samuel Gregg’s book, The Next American Economy, urges Americans to adopt the ideal of a modern commercial republic, as originally espoused by Alexander Hamilton. Hamilton argued for the U.S. to adopt, unilaterally, the principle of free international trade on the grounds that this would serve the economic interests of Americans and promote republican virtues.

Unfortunately, American political leaders do not currently seem to be in the mood to re-endorse Hamilton’s vision of a modern commercial republic.

Hopefully, Gregg’s book will be widely read in other countries where some political leaders may be receptive to messages about the contemporary relevance of the role that free market polices played at an early stage in the economic and social development of the United States.

Why should peacefulness be viewed as a characteristic of a good society?

 

In the most popular post on my blog, written in 2009, I asked: What are the characteristics of a good society? I began the post by suggesting that a good society would have good institutions – norms and laws that are good for its members. I noted that in thinking about the characteristics of a good society different people tend to emphasise different things that they consider to be important e.g. egalitarianism, personal freedom, moral values and spirituality. I then suggested that rather than just agreeing to differ, it might be useful to try to identify some characteristics of a good society that nearly everyone would agree to be important. 

The three characteristics I identified were: 

• institutions that enable members to live together in peace; 
• institutions that provide members with opportunities to flourish – to have more of the things that are good for humans to have; 
• and institutions that provide members with a degree of security against potential threats to individual flourishing.

No-one has suggested to me that they disagree that good societies should have those three characteristics.

However, I have been wondering recently how I should respond if someone suggested that in some societies a substantial proportion of the population hold attitudes that place a relatively low priority on living together peacefully. For example, while they may play lip service to peacefulness, people in some societies may not consider that it is important for children to learn to have tolerance and respect for others.  The chart shown above suggests that the importance placed on that particular child quality does indeed vary substantially throughout the world.

On reflection, I have decided that my view that peacefulness is a characteristic of a good society does not actually depend on the degree of support for that view in any society.

Why is peacefulness important?

It is appropriate to begin with the proposition that a good society would have good institutions – norms and laws that are good for its members. What that means is that a good society has institutions that support the flourishing of its individual members.

In my book, Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing, I identified several basic goods that a flourishing person could be expected to have:

• Wise and well-informed self-direction
• Health and longevity
• Positive relationships
• Living in harmony with nature
• Psychological well-being.

The merits of that list is a matter for ongoing reflection and discussion but I think it is helpful in considering what characteristics a society needs to have if it is to support the flourishing of individual members.

The contributions of peacefulness are fairly obvious. Peaceful societies protect the rights of individuals to self-direct, provided they do not interfere with the rights of others. They contribute to health and longevity my minimizing violence. They provide a context in which people can develop trusting relationships with others.

There isn’t any explicit discussion of the concept of a good society in Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing but the extensive discussion of progress in that book is highly relevant. Progress is defined in the book as growth of opportunities for human flourishing. On that basis, the good societies are those in which a great deal of progress has occurred in the past. Progress can be ongoing because there is always scope for good societies to become better.

Importance of consensus about the desirability of peacefulness    

Widespread agreement about the importance of peacefulness to human flourishing provides important support for institutions that enable the peaceful resolution of disputes among people with different political objectives. A society has little hope of becoming good, or remaining good, when an increasing number of people become willing to resort to violence to impose their visions of a good society on others.

Is ecological justice also a mirage?

 

David Schmidtz advocates “ecological justice” in his book, Living Together: Inventing Moral Science. Although Schmidtz does not refer to Friedrich Hayek in this book, his general line of argument is similar, in many respects, to that developed by Hayek in Law, Legislation, and Liberty. From Schmidtz’s earlier writings, it clear that he is well aware of Hayek’s views.

I presume Schmidtz has good reasons for not comparing his views to those of Hayek in this book. However, since Hayek argued that ‘social justice’ is a mirage, I thought Hayek would not object to me asking whether ecological justice could also be a mirage.

In this essay, I provide a brief summary of Hayek’s reasons for viewing social justice as a mirage before considering the basis for Schmidtz’s concept of ecological justice.

Why did Hayek view social justice as a mirage?

Hayek argued that it is “a dishonest insinuation” and “intellectually disreputable” to make reference to social justice in an attempt to bolster an argument “that one ought to agree to a demand of some special interest which can give no reason for it”. Hayek implies that where there are good reasons for assistance to the less fortunate, reference to social justice adds nothing to the argument. (LLL, V2, p 97. See also p 87 for Hayek’s discussion of reasons to support “protection against severe deprivation”.)

Hayek also argued that “a society of free individuals” … “lacks the fundamental precondition for the application of the concept of justice to the manner in which material benefits are shared among its members, namely that this is determined by a human will – or that the determination of rewards by human will could produce a viable market order”. (LLL, V2, pp 96-7)

Elsewhere, Hayek made the point that the size of the national cake and its distribution are not separable issues:

“We must face the truth that it is not the magnitude of a given aggregate product which allows us to decide what to do with it, but rather the other way around: that a process which tells us how to reward the several contributions to this product is also the indispensable source of information for the individuals, telling them where they can make the aggregate product as large as possible” (Conference paper published in Nishiyama and Leube, “The Essence of Hayek”, p 323).

Hayek went on to make the point that John Stuart Mill’s claim that “once the product is there, mankind, individually or collectively, can do with it whatever it pleases” is really “an incredible stupidity, showing a complete unawareness of the crucial guide function of prices”.

Interestingly, David Schmidtz suggests that by pulling production and distribution apart, J. S. Mill “unwittingly pulled one question into two half questions that in fractured isolation had no proper answers and that would derail rather than facilitate our study of the human condition”. (p 6) Following Mill, questions about production were allocated to economists, while questions of distribution were the province of philosophers: “those who work on justice”. (p 5)

What is ecological about justice?  

David Schmidtz writes:

“We are social and political animals, and justice is a human adaptation to an ecological niche.” (p 220)

What does that mean? The common human characteristic of negotiating what we expect from each other is one of the reasons why humans are viewed as social and political animals. As people negotiate what to expect from each other, they create social niches in which they hope to flourish. (p 25) Schmidtz suggests that to speak of justice is to speak of what we should be able to expect from each other. (p 219)

Justice manages traffic. (p 220) People share an interest in avoiding collision, but otherwise have destinations of their own:

“The truth for political animals is that since we began to settle in large communities, being of one mind has not been an option. Being on the same page is not an option. Even our diverse ideas about how to resolve conflict are a source of conflict. And, disturbing though it may be for a theorist to admit it, theories do not help. It is a political fact that we live among people who have theories of their own, who do not find each other’s theories compelling, and who are perfectly aware that there is no reason why they should.” (p 221)

Schmidtz discusses several other features of ecological justice. For example, norms of ecological justice are an adaptive response to reality. Principles of justice are based on an understanding of which institutional frameworks are enabling people to flourish and which are not. Justice is somewhat testable: when the world tests our ideals and finds them wanting, we need to rethink.

The author ends up suggesting that the features of ecological justice that he has discussed “do not define ecological justice, and do not exhaust it, but they indicate whether a conception of justice is more or less ecological”. (p 226)

 Instead of seeking to define ecological justice, perhaps it is more helpful to ask what is the question that ecological justice seeks to answer. The title of Schmidtz’s book suggests that the question has to do with how we can live together. In his introduction, he asks:

“What if justice evolved as a real question about what people ought to be able to expect of each other?”

Since we have reasons to believe that justice evolved in that way, perhaps the relevant question is:

What rules of just conduct should influence what people ought to be able to be able to expect of each other, allowing for the possibility that individuals might flourish in different ways?  

(That question borrows words from Friedrich Hayek, and Douglas Rasmussen and Douglas Den Uyl, as well as David Schmidtz.)

Conclusion

David Schmidtz’s concept of ecological justice is certainly not a mirage. It has to do with the nature of humans as social and political animals, and the nature of justice as a human adaptation to an ecological niche.

Rather than seeking to define ecological justice precisely, perhaps it is more helpful to ask what is the question that ecological justice seeks to answer. My suggestion is:

What rules of just conduct should influence what people ought to be able to be able to expect of each other, allowing for the possibility that individuals might flourish in different ways?