What kind of Politics is Consistent with Consent of the Governed?

 

I have been thinking about the kind of politics that is consistent with consent of the governed since reading Max Borders’ book Underthrow: How Jefferson’s Dangerous Idea Will Spark a New Revolution. The book was published in 2023, but I have only recently read it.

The second chapter of the book is entitled “Politics is the Pathology” but Borders' target is contemporary politics. He argues that contemporary politics “brings out the worst in all of us”. He then goes on to argue for social action – a different kind of political activity - which will promote consent of the governed.

A question which the book raises for me is whether underthrow initiatives can be successful in bringing about substantial movement toward consent of the governed without some support from within contemporary political systems.

What does consent mean?

Consent of the governed figures prominently in Borders’ book. He quotes from the United States Declaration of Independence, which asserts that governments “derive their just powers from consent of the governed” and that when government becomes destructive of individual rights, which include “Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness”, “it is the Right of the People to alter or abolish it, and to institute new Government”.

I understand that the American revolutionaries saw election of representatives as the primary vehicle for consent. That view of consent appears to have much in common with the concept of ‘government legitimacy’ as described by modern political scientists who focus on procedural rules such as the existence of free and fair elections. It also appears to have a lot in common with the concept of ‘tacit consent’ as described by John Locke:

John Locke wrote:  

“The difficulty is, what ought to be looked upon as a tacit consent, and how far it binds, i.e. how far any one shall be looked on to have consented, and thereby submitted to any government, where he has made no expressions of it at all. And to this I say, that every man, that hath any possessions, or enjoyment, of any part of the dominions of any government, doth thereby give his tacit consent, and is as far forth obliged to obedience to the laws of that government, during such enjoyment, as any one under it; whether this his possession be of land, to him and his heirs for ever, or a lodging only for a week; or whether it be barely travelling freely on the highway; and in effect, it reaches as far as the very being of any one within the territories of that government” (Two Treatises of Government, ed. Thomas Hollis, London: A. Millar et al., 1764, Second Treatise, Chapter VIII para 119).

However, Thomas Jefferson, the principal author of the Declaration, held that no generation has a right to bind following generations. On that basis, he argued that every constitution and law naturally expires at the end of 19 years. He added: “If it be enforced longer, it is an act of force and not of right.”

Would endorsement of a constitution by a majority of voters every 19 years constitute consent of the governed? It might come closer to that ideal than any constitution for any country on earth at present, but a substantial minority of citizens could still claim that they have not given consent to some, or all, of the constitutional provisions agreed to by the majority.

Borders argues that consent of the governed means “a real, contractual civil association that a sovereign person selects in a governance market”. I will outline his ideal model of consent after considering the case he makes that we should be concerned about consent.

What is so important about consent?

Borders makes a powerful moral point by asking questions:

• “if you could choose nonviolent means of achieving social goals such as poverty relief, wouldn’t you?”
• “if it is possible to help the poor (and for the poor to help each other) without resorting to violence, isn’t this something we ought to do?”

He also suggests that it is immoral to impose monolithic systems upon people who prefer to live in a different political, cultural, or economic niche.

The implication is that if any of the current activities of government can be undertaken without resort to the coercive powers of the state (violence) then it is immoral for those activities to performed in a manner that requires citizens to submit to those coercive powers.

Throughout the book, Borders links lack of consent of the governed to a set of interconnected problems in liberal democracies.  These include expansion of authoritarian control; partisan tribalism and civil conflict; an unhealthy focus on national sensationalism; and weakening of community and civil society.

Borders advocates that monolithic systems should be peacefully underthrown rather than violently overthrown.

So, what does underthrow entail?

 Borders has borrowed the concept of “underthrow” from Michael P Gibson, who suggests: “We can underthrow the state one contract at a time.”

The approach to underthrow that Borders develops in this book is based on the framework for utopia that Robert Nozick developed in Part II of Anarchy, State and Utopia. Borders suggests that Nozick’s framework – a scaffolding hospitable to pluralism – can serve as a strategic construct for subversive innovation:

“In reordering Nozick’s premises into a strategic framework of niche creation I call subversive innovation, I look around at the authoritarian powers in our midst. Then, I seek out weak joints or legal gray areas to exploit, in which one might apply a liberatory strategy or recruit new constituencies through entrepreneurial means. Carving niches means experimenting with new governance systems, however modest, hoping that these systems prevail in competition. Such is the delicate dance of dissidence.”

Subversive innovations that Borders mentions in this book include Uber, Airbnb and Bitcoin. The discussion of subversive innovation overlaps considerably with that in The Social Singularity (which I discussed here) and The Decentralist (discussed here). In Underthrow , however, the author also discusses Balaji Srinivasan’s proposals for start-up societies and proposes a program to create a “network state”.

Borders ends this book by urging people to join him in creating a society that will work toward establishing consent of the governed. He views the Freemasons as providing a model for the values-based association of like-minded people that he has proposed.

The political context

I wish Max Borders every success in his ongoing Underthrow activities. I admire his enthusiasm as a political entrepreneur who is seeking “to help people of conscience become a countervailing force”.

Before going further, I should clarify why I have referred to Max as a political entrepreneur. The main reason is that I propose to refer below to a series of essays about political entrepreneurship that I wrote last year. However, I think the description is apt because Max’s innovative endeavours encompass aspects of both economic and political entrepreneurship.

In the epigraph to my essays on political entrepreneurship, I quoted Don Lavoie’s understanding of the links between economic entrepreneurship and culture:

“Entrepreneurship necessarily takes place within culture, it is utterly shaped by culture, and it fundamentally consists in interpreting and influencing culture.”

From Lavoie’s perspective, “entrepreneurial acts are the readings of, and contributions to, different conversations”. In the third essay, I suggested that political entrepreneurs respond to public discourse, using it as a basis for policy innovation.

While developing the line of reasoning leading to his proposals for establishing a society of like-minded individuals Borders is highly critical of the contemporary politics in liberal democracies. I share his concerns about interest group politics (see this essay about the incentives that political entrepreneurs are faced with, this essay about the information constraints facing political entrepreneurs, and this essay about the erosion of norms of political behaviour).

However, as noted at the outset, I find it difficult to see how it will be possible to bring about substantial movement toward consent of the governed without some support from within contemporary political systems. As Borders recognises, subversive innovators face huge difficulties in competing with social insurance programs that are funded by compulsory tax payments.

Perhaps substantial public support for economic freedom (policies that are more consistent with consent of the governed) will return if the current trajectory of many liberal democracies lead to deepening economic crises. Deepening economic crises do seem likely but policy change leading to greater economic freedom will depend on election to government of political entrepreneurs who support greater economic freedom. In the absence of enlightened political leadership, economic crises may well result in deepening authoritarianism.

I concluded my consideration of what kind of political entrepreneurship is required to promote greater liberty by noting that, unfortunately, important reforms in the rules of the game made in some countries during the 1980s and 90s did not become deeply entrenched. Political leaders obtained sufficient electoral support to implement market-friendly policies, but there does not seem to be much evidence that members of the public improved their understanding of the benefits of free markets in any of the countries in which reforms were undertaken.

That led me to consider how the anti-market bias of public opinion could be reduced and to note the historical role of political entrepreneurship in social movements in promoting liberty. I ended by endorsing the view of Ed Younkins that it is through the “numerous interactions with individuals” during their everyday lives that advocates of liberty can “transmit the freedom philosophy to the general public”.

Max Borders’ political entrepreneurship seems to me to be a positive step toward establishing a broadly-based social movement that will enable substantial steps to be taken toward making consent of the governed a reality. Hopefully, one day that movement will become sufficiently influential to enlist the support of political entrepreneurs within government that will be necessary to enable citizens to opt out of coercive collectivism.

Conclusion

Max Borders makes a compelling moral case that we should prefer peaceful, voluntary paths to social goals over means that require citizens to submit to the coercive powers of the state, and underthrow offers a model for how such paths might be built one contract, one niche, at a time. But the question I raised at the outset remains: can underthrow deliver substantial movement toward consent of the governed without support from within contemporary political systems?

The experience of market-friendly reforms in the 1980s and 90s suggests that action within contemporary political systems can be helpful. The reforms occurred because political entrepreneurs won sufficient electoral support to legislate change, but those changes did not become deeply entrenched, in part because the public's underlying understanding of why free markets serve human flourishing was never substantially improved. Subversive innovation of the kind Borders proposes may be one of the more promising ways of closing that gap: niches that actually work can teach by demonstration in a way that political argument alone cannot.

Rather than viewing underthrow and electoral political entrepreneurship as rival strategies, I see them as potentially complementary: subversive innovation can demonstrate what consent-based alternatives look like in practice, while political entrepreneurs working within existing systems can widen the legal and political space in which those alternatives are permitted to grow.

What can Libertarians Learn from Foucault?

 

Before reading Mark Pennington’s recent book, Foucault and Liberal Political Economy: Power, Knowledge, and Freedom, it would not have occurred to me that libertarians could learn anything from the social theories of Michel Foucault. Pennington has persuaded me that some beliefs associated with Foucault, and postmodernism more generally, are not devoid of merit. As will be discussed below, however, the beliefs that he identifies as postmodern differ somewhat from the collection of beliefs that I have hitherto associated with postmodernism.

Pennington claims that liberals who are concerned about over-government can learn from Foucault about “multiple sources and potential forms of this ‘over-government’ in modern societies and how these threats to freedom have been neglected by, and in some cases resulted from, the dominant strands in liberal thought”.

The author aims “to enunciate the elements of a postmodern liberalism, and to show how this perspective might engage in a productive conversation with Foucault in ways that expose the illiberalism of contemporary societies and the dominant forms of social science and political philosophy that contribute to this state of affairs”.

Before considering Pennington’s claims about what liberals can learn from Foucault and the potential for liberals to engage productively with his ideas, I need to clarify how Pennington is able to argue that some of Foucault’s views are worthy of consideration and what Pennington means by “postmodern liberalism”.

Foucault’s views

 The main problem I have with the postmodernist movement is its disrespect for reason, truth and knowledge. Stephen Hicks suggests that Foucault’s views illustrate the direction and tone of the postmodern intellectual world:

“Michel Foucault has identified the major targets: “All my analyses are against the idea of universal necessities in human existence.” Such necessities must be swept aside as baggage from the past: “It is meaningless to speak in the name of—or against—Reason, Truth, or Knowledge”.” (The sources of the quoted passages are cited in Hicks, 2004.)

Hicks explains that Foucault reduces knowledge to an expression of social power and urges that we play the brutal power politics game on behalf of the traditionally disempowered.

Pennington recognizes that Foucault has often been accused of undercutting the basis of his own critical analysis:

“If all knowledge is reflective of an arbitrary ‘will to truth’, then what of Foucault’s own truth claims?” 

More specifically:

“If all truth claims are understood as merely a way of exercising power over others, then how are people to know which if any of the ‘intolerable’ practices they find themselves in are worth challenging or resisting, let alone what might replace them.”

However, Pennington observes that there are many Foucaults, “reflected in the shifting emphases, styles of analysis and reinterpretations of his own words”:    

“Towards the end of his life … notably in essays such as ‘What Is Enlightenment?’, Foucault softened the power/knowledge coupling, adopting a stance that does not deny that there are better and worse forms of argument or that there are some more or less valid forms of knowledge; rather, he emphasises the importance of uncertainty, of keeping all truth claims under scrutiny, and of being aware of the routinised social processes that might block that very scrutiny.”

If postmodernism is characterized by the idea that truth claims merely reflect the exercise of social power, perhaps it could be said that towards the end of his life, Foucault’s views became somewhat less postmodern.

 Postmodern liberalism

In outlining the elements of “postmodern liberalism” Pennington notes:

“This ‘postmodern’ liberalism has not previously been coherently articulated, but strands of it are detectable in the writings of F. A Hayek, those of Deirdre McCloskey, and elements of the contemporary Austrian school of economics, as well as in the context of political philosophy apart from Hayek in the works of Michael Oakeshott, Gerald Gaus, and Chandran Kukathas.”

I have considerable knowledge of the views of some of those authors and great respect for all of them. I am not comfortable with their views being labelled as postmodern, even though some of them might not object to that label.

Pennington seems to me to be distancing “postmodern liberalism” from postmodernism when he acknowledges that it is possible to assess “the comparative plausibility of competing narrative explanations” and “social scientific truth claims”.

In his concluding chapter Pennington notes that the elements of “postmodern liberalism” include, among other things, a “philosophy of social science sceptical of socio-economic positivism and the efforts of conscious control it fosters”.

It seems to me that Pennington’s philosophy of social science could appropriately be labelled “unpretentious liberalism”. It stands apart from the pretence of knowledge and scientism associated with socio-economic positivism, without endorsing postmodernism’s disrespect for reason, truth and knowledge.

I hope the book will attract many readers who identify as postmodernists and that they will be captivated by the concept of postmodern liberalism. However, those who (like me) are allergic to postmodernism, may find the book easier to read if they substitute the words “unpretentious liberalism” whenever they see “postmodernism liberalism”.

Should libertarians attempt to influence culture?

Before considering what libertarians can learn from Foucault, it seems appropriate to acknowledge that there is nothing new about the idea that libertarians should take an interest in culture.

That is apparent in the consideration of interactions between culture and political institutions in a discussion between Chris Matthew Sciabarra and me entitled, “Should Libertarians be Attempting to Influence Culture?” which published on this blog in September 2024. The discussion began by considering John Stuart Mill’s concerns about the “tyranny of the prevailing opinion and feeling” and moved from there to considering Sciabarra’s interpretation of Ayn Rand’s view of power relationships. Sciabarra presented a Tri-level Model of Power Relations which was first derived from his reconstruction of Ayn Rand’s critical analyses of social problems, outlined in Part Three of Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical (Sciabarra, 2013).

In introducing his discussion of Rand’s view of power relationships, Chris Sciabarra commented:

“Winton suggests that Enlightenment humanism has been preoccupied with reason and reality, while postmodernism has been preoccupied with the use of power. Hence, it is startling that Rand, who most certainly placed herself in the reason and reality camp, also emerged with a critique of power relations.”

The question under discussion provoked responses from several libertarians and classical liberals. The response of Douglass Rasmussen, joint author of Norms of Liberty (Rasmussen and Den Uyl, 2005) is pertinent to this essay:

“Is there not a difference between saying libertarianism qua political philosophy should attempt to change culture and saying that a libertarian concerned in advancing libertarianism should attempt to change culture? The former concerns what the political/legal order should do, and the latter concerns what individuals should do.”

As I see it, attempting to understand the consequences for liberty and individual flourishing of interactions between culture, markets, social movements and government regulation does not obviate or preclude attempts to define the nature of a political/legal order that can ensure that individuals can flourish in different ways without colliding.

Foucault’s liberalism

 From my perspective, one of the most interesting aspects of Foucault’s philosophy, as discussed by Pennington, is his account of discourses as a kind of spontaneous order phenomenon.  Foucault challenges the role of individual or collective agency in the operation of power regimes. Power works through chainlike or network effects. As people adopt certain discourses they influence the actions of others.

Power does not emanate from a single point in a network. It emerges from diverse and at time contradictory attempts by actors to assert their place in society. There is no identifiable author of power relations. As Pennington puts it:

“The discourses and disciplines producing people’s patterns of thought, positionality and interests are largely unintended consequences of the multiple attempts to affect the conduct of others.”

 Thus, while power relations may appear to have a coherent structure, there is no single purpose, intention, or meaning that underlies that structure.

States of domination arise when a set of discourses align or crystalize with each other and with the juridical power of the state. Scientific discourses can pose a problem where people come to be classified relative to various norms (e.g. as deviant, perverted, insane) and subjected to discipline (which may include social punishments). In addition, bio-power operates through interventions to change social, economic or environmental conditions in the name of improving population health or providing security.

Pennington suggests that “it is with Foucault’s concept of bio-power and especially its economic manifestations where the most significant possibilities for a dialogue between the Foucauldian and postmodern liberal perspectives lies”. Late in Foucault’s career he “seems to favour an environment that preserves a ‘pluralism of rationalities’ so that people might remain alert to the possibility of multiple ways of their being governed and not being frozen into a particular classificatory grid and the roles and positions it creates”.

In my view, Foucault’s decentred account of power relations is often more plausible than theories which reduce the exercise of power to holding of positions in political office. A decentred account is consistent with the conclusion of my recent series of essays on political entrepreneurship. Even though it is possible to identify the policies adopted in some countries with the ideologies of authoritarian political leaders, I suggest:

“The problem of ensuring adoption of government policies that more consistently advance economic and personal freedom cannot be reduced to the question of how to elect better political entrepreneurs to national leadership positions. Institutional change is a complex process involving social movements, media organizations, and interactions between individual citizens, as well as local and national politics.”

I concur with Pennington that Foucault’s view of power relations provides support for an unpretentious liberalism which is deeply skeptical of economic and philosophical approaches which presuppose that the welfare of the population can be secured by a form of expert rule.

In Part II of his book, Pennington uses his theoretical lens to examine complex networks of institutional, physical, and administrative mechanisms and knowledge structures associated with social justice, public health, ecological sustainability, and crime and punishment. He critically examines various overlapping systems of power - some focused on managing populations and others focused on guiding individuals. (In this paragraph I have relied on Claude, Anthropic's AI assistant, to help translate the technical Foucauldian phrasing in Pennington’s summary – words including “dispositifs”, “bio-political” and “pastoral” - into plainer English.)

These systems share three features: (1) an excessive faith that social and economic life can be understood and controlled with scientific precision, (2) a belief that some central “steering” intelligence can identify and fix deviations from expected patterns, and (3) a bureaucratic, top-down way of handling risk. The author demonstrates that these features tend to shrink the space in which individuals can act freely.

Conclusion

So, what can libertarians learn from Foucault? Pennington's answer, as I read it, is not that libertarians should adopt postmodernism's skepticism of reason and truth - that skepticism, taken to its logical end, undercuts the very possibility of arguing for freedom over domination. Rather, what is valuable in Foucault is his decentred account of power: the recognition that domination need not flow from a single source or a deliberate design, but can emerge from the unintended convergence of discourses, institutions, and expert classifications. This is a lesson that liberals have sometimes neglected, having focused their concern about over-government on the formal power of the state while overlooking the more diffuse mechanisms in social justice, public health, ecological policy, and criminal justice that narrow the space for individuals to govern their own lives.

What Pennington calls postmodern liberalism – I prefer to call it "unpretentious liberalism" - captures what is worth taking from this encounter: a liberalism skeptical of the pretence of expert knowledge and socio-economic positivism, without embracing postmodernism's disrespect for reason and truth. Pennington's Foucault, particularly the later Foucault of "What Is Enlightenment?", is compatible with this project because he does not deny that some truth claims are better than others - he simply insists that we remain alert to the ways power can masquerade as expertise, and that we preserve a plurality of ways of being governed rather than being frozen into a single classificatory grid. That, it seems to me, is a genuinely liberal insight, however unfamiliar its Foucauldian packaging may be to libertarians who have, like me, generally kept their distance from postmodern thought.

References

Hicks, Stephen R. C., Explaining Postmodernism (Scholargy Publishing, 2004).

Pennington, Mark, Foucault and Liberal Political Economy: Power, Knowledge, and Freedom (Oxford University Press, 2025).

Rasmussen, Douglas B., and Den Uyl, Douglas J, Norms of Liberty (Pennsylvania State University Press, 2005).

Sciabarra, Chris Matthew, Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical, Second Edition (Pennsylvania State University Press, 2013).

Is Indian Democracy an Extraordinary Success Story?

Salvatore Babones puts the view that Indian democracy is an extraordinary success story in his book, Dharma Democracy: How India Built the Third World’s First Democracy, which was published last year.

Babones describes himself as “a skeptical quantitative and comparative sociologist who came to the subject with an interest in democracy not (initially at least) with any particular interest in India itself”

I read the book during my most recent visit to India. I came to it with a particular interest in India and a desire to understand whether that country is more appropriately viewed as the world's largest democracy, or as an elective autocracy in which personal freedom is severely restricted. Babones has persuaded me that the first view is closer to being correct.

The structure of this essay is as follows. In the next section I discuss the graph presented above. I then draw upon Dharma Democracy to explain why Babones implies that the freedom data depicted in the graph understates personal freedom in India. The following sections outline why Babones views Indian democracy as a success story, his explanation for that success, and the reception his book has received in India. I present some personal views before concluding.

A Visual Starting Point: Emancipative Values and Personal Freedom

To frame the discussion, I use the chart above showing data from the World Values Survey and the Human Freedom Index. The horizontal axis presents Christian Welzel’s emancipative values index, a measure of cultural support for autonomy and expressive freedoms. The vertical axis shows personal freedom as assessed by the Fraser/Cato Human Freedom Index. I have previously explained the chart more fully on this blog, when using it to explore global patterns of authoritarianism associated with political entrepreneurship.

I am using the chart here to highlight how India appears to be situated within the broader global landscape. India appears in the middle of the distribution: less free than Western democracies but significantly freer than many culturally comparable societies. The chart suggests that the degree of personal freedom in India is much as might be expected for a country with India’s level of economic development and cultural values.

However, historical data suggests that personal freedom was much higher in India during the first decade of this century. It declined to its current level (around 6/10) from a rating substantially higher than might be expected based on emancipative (around 7/10). 

Possible errors in the measurement of personal freedom

Babones implies that the Fraser/Cato index understates the personal freedom that Indians experience. He argues that there is bias in all democracy and freedom indexes that use of subjective data from the Varieties of Democracy Institute (V-Dem). Apparently, nearly all of V-Dem’s survey indicators are coded by country experts, most of whom are academics residing in the country being studied. In the case of India, that methodology may introduce bias in recent freedom indicators because Narendra Modi and his BJP party are “widely reviled among social scientists both within India and in the West”.

This raises several issues. First, the Fraser/Cato index’s reliance on V-Dem seems to be modest. As far as I can see, only one item tends to depress India’s freedom score: that is V-Dem’s score for Media and expression under the heading “Expression and information”. On that item, V-Dem’s score is not far below the scores of Freedom House, BTI and CLD, which are also used in the Fraser/Cato index. It is possible, however, that data from Freedom House, BTI and CLD are subject to similar methodological biases as the data from V-Dem.

Second, India’s academics have some good reasons to criticize Modi’s human rights record. Nevertheless, in my view Babones’ allegation of bias carries weight because V-Dem gives Indian democracy a lower rating at present than in 1976 - during Indira Gandhi’s “Emergency” rule - when civil rights were suspended.

Third, some other freedom indexes provide a rosier picture of civil liberties in India than Fraser/Cato. For example, the Civil liberties rating for India incorporated in the Democracy Index of the Economist Intelligence Unit (EIU) is higher than for Armenia and Georgia – a ranking which is inconsistent with that shown in the above chart.

On balance, it seems to me that Babones has made a plausible case that democracy and personal freedom are in better shape in India than is often claimed by critics of the Modi government.

 India as an Extraordinary Democratic Success

Babones argues that “India’s democracy is in better shape than that of just about any other developing country”. His central claim is that India’s democracy is historically exceptional.

He emphasizes that India is the only large, poor, post‑colonial society to maintain continuous electoral democracy for more than seven decades. Unlike Western democracies, which evolved gradually over centuries, India launched universal suffrage at independence despite widespread illiteracy and immense cultural diversity. For Babones, this makes India not a fragile democracy but an extraordinary one - a global outlier whose success cannot be understood through Western liberal frameworks.

He grounds this argument in several propositions:

·        India conducts elections involving hundreds of millions of voters with consistently high turnout. Babones sees this as evidence of a deeply internalized democratic ethos.

·        India’s democratic resilience is rooted in its dharmic heritage, which emphasizes pluralism, decentralisation, and negotiated social order.

·        Most post‑colonial states experienced military coups and/or authoritarian consolidation. India did not.

·        India has vast civil society networks which have tended to inculcate a sense of national unity.

·        India’s electoral system has enabled historically disadvantaged communities to gain political voice – it is helping these communities to overcome social disadvantages.

Babones has included a chapter discussing the status of Muslims in India. In that context he suggests that nationhood is a work in progress. One interesting statistic he cites is that 99% of Indian Muslims report being “proud” to be Indian. He also makes the point that in a country that is 80% Hindu, “Muslims will never experience full social inclusion unless Hindus actively invite them into the national mainstream.”

Reception of “Dharma Democracy”

I asked Grok and CoPilot to provide summaries of the reception that the book has received in India.

Grok notes that as a relatively recent book from a smaller publisher, it hasn’t yet garnered widespread mainstream academic or Western critical reviews. However, the book has been well-received in circles aligned with its thesis. Reviewers highlight its challenge to global democracy indices, defense of India’s success via “dharma” and Hindu civil society, and data-driven rebuttals to criticisms of Modi-era democracy. One highly critical reviewer argues the book is misguided because it fails to address the Indian Constitution’s alleged anti-Hindu biases.

CoPilot offered similar comments, noting specifically that some critics are concerned that support for the Hindu civilization thesis tends to downplay pluralism and legitimize majoritarian narratives. Extending its analysis beyond formal reviews, it notes that much Indian academic discourse pushes back against the core thesis of the book. Many Indian scholars continue to view recent developments in India’s democracy as problematic. CoPilot sums up: “The book has not been dismissed; it’s being taken seriously in India, but primarily as a provocative intervention in an ongoing debate rather than a settled or widely accepted interpretation.”

Personal Perspectives

I cannot claim to have spent much time discussing politics during my three visits to India. Readers who are interested in my motives for visiting India can find relevant information here, here, here, here and here.

However, when discussion has turned to politics, the people I met have tended to express views that either strongly oppose or strongly support prime minister Modi. There were exceptions, but the views seemed to be linked to education levels – those with a university degree tended to be critical of Modi’s human rights record, whereas those without a university education were highly supportive of his emphasis on nationalism and economic development.

One observation stands out: critics of Modi expressed their views to me openly and without hesitation. These were not whispered conversations but frank and confident exchanges, often in public settings. That willingness to criticise the government directly to a foreign visitor is not something one would expect in a society where personal freedom is severely restricted. This suggests that India’s public sphere retains a level of openness that complicates the more pessimistic narratives about democratic decline.

My own view of Modi has moderated over the years. When he was first elected, international reporting had me viewing him as a somewhat alarming Hindu nationalist, whose policies might cause disorder. Perhaps Modi has himself become more moderate as he has focused on achievement of Viksit Bharat, which translates as “Developed India”. The image he presents internationally is certainly that of an extraordinarily diplomatic leader who seeks mutually beneficial relations with nearly all other countries.

While reading Babones’ book I pondered whether a “dharma democracy” would differ substantially from one based on Western individualism. At a superficial level, a “dharma democracy” might be seen to place less emphasis on personal freedom because dharma is about “duty” or “right action” rather than individual rights. However, the Indian concept of dharma seems to me to be close to Aristotelian ideas of individual self-actualization in accordance with natural purpose (telos). Babones notes that the Indian philosopher, Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan (1888-1975), suggested “every form of life, every group of men has its dharma, which is the law of its being”.

It seems to me that when Indians speak of duty to the nation what they have in mind might generally have more to do with doing the right thing - for example, adherence to societal norms that make democracy possible – because such behaviour is honorable and integral to self-realization, rather than an obligation that necessarily entails self-sacrifice.

 I am left wondering whether there is much difference in practice in the way Indian democracy is conducted by comparison with Western democracies. It seems possible that Indian democracy may be conducted with a little more regard to the norms of reciprocity, fair-dealing and mutual respect that restrain citizens from seeking to use the political process to exploit their compatriots.  

Conclusions

Salvatore Babones argues in Dharma Democracy that India is an extraordinary democratic outlier among post‑colonial societies. I think that line of argument holds up surprisingly well once one examines both the historical record and the limitations of the freedom indices that dominate international commentary. The evidence suggests that India’s personal freedoms, while imperfect, are not in the state of collapse that some critics claim.

The dharmic framing of democracy that Babones highlights offers a useful reminder that democratic resilience can emerge from cultural resources that differ from those of the West. India’s traditions of pluralism, decentralization, and negotiated social order have helped sustain a vast and diverse electorate through seven decades of elections. Whether or not one embraces the full “dharma democracy” thesis, it is clear that India’s democratic foundations run deeper than many external observers assume.

The reception of Dharma Democracy inside India reflects this complexity. Supporters see it as a welcome challenge to Western academic pessimism; critics worry that it risks legitimizing majoritarian narratives. Yet the very fact that the book has sparked open, vigorous debate is itself evidence of a public sphere that remains lively and accessible.

My own conversations in India reinforce that impression. Critics of the government spoke freely and confidently, even in public settings - something inconsistent with the idea of a society sliding into authoritarian silence. At the same time, the polarization of views, often along educational lines, reflects the tensions of a rapidly modernizing nation.

In the end, distinctive characteristics of India’s society have shaped its experience of democracy. Distinctive cultural values help to explain why Indian democracy has been surprisingly resilient. If the norms of reciprocity, restraint, and mutual respect that underpin democratic life continue to hold, India’s democracy may remain not only durable but an extraordinary success story. 

Why were merchants attracted to Buddhism in ancient India?

 

My recent visit to India was motivated in part by a desire to visit some ancient Buddhist caves that were excavated with the help of donations from merchants at a time when India was at the centre of a globalized world. My interest was aroused by reading of William Dalrymple’s book, The Golden Road, during a previous visit to India.

My interest was heightened by further reading, including a book chapter by Osmund Bopearachchi entitled ‘Indian Ocean Trade through Buddhist Iconographies’. (Please see references at the end of this essay.)

Ajanta caves

One of the highlights of my trip was visiting the Ajanta caves, which were hewn out over the period from 200 BC to 650 AD. The Ajanta caves are shown in the photo at the top of this post.

Here is an extract from Dalrymple’s discussion of the murals in Ajanta caves:

“The murals indicate that, by the time of Ajanta, India was not some self-contained island of Indianness, but already a cosmopolitan and surprisingly urban society full of traders from all over the world; in many cases it was the traders themselves who actually paid for these murals, such as the rich merchant Ghanamadada who, according to an inscription, donated the funds for Cave 12. To some extent, the murals may also have reflected the merchants’ taste, which could explain the near absence of asceticism or even monasticism in the murals.”

Some of the photos I took of murals at Ajanta caves are shown below.

 

I invite readers who are interested in finding out more about other historical sites I visited in India and Sri Lanka to take a look at a series of posts on my Facebook timeline, beginning on 12 April 2026.

Why was Buddhism attractive to merchants?

Even after my visit to the Ajanta caves, I did not fully understand why merchants supported Buddhism in ancient India. I reasoned that the occupation of being a merchant would make a person disinclined to accept a religious doctrine which denies their own existence. Idle people may ponder their own existence, but merchants would be expected to be too busy pursuing their occupation. So, wouldn’t Buddhism’s “no self” doctrine be unpalatable to merchants?

My first step toward a better understanding of this question was to revisit the discussion of the “no self” doctrine in a book on Indian philosophy by Peter Adamson and Jonardon Ganeri. The authors note that in proposing the “no self” idea the Buddha was signalling his disagreement with the Brahmanical tradition which made the self a central pre-occupation. They explain the role of “no self” in the context of the Buddha’s teaching that craving is the source of human suffering. He argued that you can avoid being attached to the things that falsely seem to benefit you if you give up on the idea that you have a self that can be benefited.

The authors note that in rejecting the idea of a centre of identity that underlies all awareness, there is still a lot of room for Buddhists to accept less metaphysically ambitious notions of the self. However, they add:

“Yet it seems clear that the Buddhists did want to critique and revise our everyday assumptions about the reality of persons, and other things.” (p. 53)

Buddhists believe that it is only by convention that we refer to a person as an entity. There is nothing to a person over and above a conglomeration of momentary bodily states, feelings and perceptions. The authors sum up:

“So here we have arrived at what may be the most notorious philosophical doctrine of Buddhism, that we are nothing more than flowing streams with no firm identity from time to time.” (p. 54)

That statement reminds me that Richard Campbell used the metaphor of flowing streams to make the point that it is possible to distinguish between the contents of one’s consciousness and one’s identity:

“The same river can flow through different places, and I remain the same person through the many phases of my life.” (Campbell, p. 292).

However, that is a digression. (I have previously discussed Richard Campbell’s views here and here.)

Although they argue that it is only by convention that we refer to a person as an entity, Buddhists have no problem in acknowledging that acceptance of such “conventional truth” is necessary for people to function in everyday life.

The Buddha believed strongly that actions have consequences – the causes that you create are reflected in your subsequent experiences. That view - and the Noble Eightfold Path more generally - seems to me to presuppose that, in the world as we experience it, individuals exist and make choices. It would not be possible to choose the right view; right intention; right speech; right action; right livelihood; right effort; right mindfulness; and right concentration if you did not have individual agency.

I have just remembered that in writing about individualism some years ago, I noted that the Buddha did not oppose self-love when given an opportunity to do so. Despite his belief in “no self”, he suggested that self-love provides a strong reason for individuals to refrain from hurting others.

It seems likely that many merchants would have been attracted to the precepts of the Noble Eightfold Path as providing a basis for ethical conduct. They would certainly have been inclined to view themselves as engaged in “right livelihood”, because they were earning a living in a way that benefits others as well as themselves.

Andy Rotman has noted that early Buddhist literature accords high regard to merchants. In one story, a merchant, Supriya, converts all of India to Buddhism by satisfying everyone's material needs and then establishing them on the tenfold path of virtuous actions. As well as presenting a merchant as a virtuous hero, the story seems to imply the existence of something like Maslow’s hierarchy of needs – people may find it easier to be virtuous if cravings associated with their physiological needs are satisfied.

The attitude of Brahminical Hinduism toward merchants also helps to explain why merchants were attracted to Buddhism. Kathleen Morrison notes:

“Buddhism … overcame many of the problems Brahminical Hinduism presented to merchants, including strict rules of commensality, limited avenues for social advancement, and a prohibition against overseas travel.”

Conclusion

Visits to ancient Buddhist caves during my recent trip to India were motivated by my interest in links between Buddhism and merchants engaged in international trade. Many of the murals in the Ajanta caves depict an environment full of beauty and the pleasures of youth rather than ascetic monasticism.

It isn’t difficult to understand why merchants might fund the creation of such works of art, but that doesn’t explain why they would be attracted in the first place to a religion advocating a “no self” doctrine. It is central to Buddhism that giving up on the idea of self enables people to liberate themselves from the craving that is the cause of suffering.

The important point is that Buddhists have no problem accepting that the existence of selves as a convention necessary to function in everyday life. Ethical behaviour is predicated on the idea that actions have consequences, which presupposes the existence of individuals who make choices.

It seems likely that merchants would have been attracted to the Noble Eightfold Path as offering support for ethical conduct. They had good reasons to think of themselves as engaged in “right livelihood”.

The high regard for merchants in Buddhist society is reflected in early Buddhist literature. By contrast, at that time Hinduism seems to have been much less supportive of the activities of merchants.  

Is Character Education Compatible with Individualistic Perfectionism?

 This is a guest essay by Dr Edward W. Younkins, Professor of Accountancy and Business at Wheeling University, and Executive Director of its Institute for the Study of Capitalism and Morality. Ed is author of a trilogy of important books on freedom and flourishing: “Capitalism and Commerce”, “Champions of a Free Society”, and “Flourishing and Happiness in a Free Society”. He also has numerous other publications, including several published on this site. (Please see the list after the end of this essay.)  

 

 Interest in Aristotelian ethics has produced diverse accounts of flourishing, virtue, and moral development. Kristján Kristjánsson has emerged as a contemporary defender of virtue ethics applied to psychology and education (Kristjánsson, 2015 and 2019). Meanwhile, Douglas B. Rasmussen and Douglas J. Den Uyl have developed a distinctive neo-Aristotelian liberalism centered on individualistic perfectionism and metanormative political theory (Rasmussen and Den Uyl, 2005 and 2020 and Den Uyl and Rasmussen, 2016).

This essay examines two distinct but complementary projects within a framework of neo-Aristotelian freedom and flourishing. While both projects share a commitment to human flourishing (eudaimonia) as an objective, naturalistic end, they diverge markedly in their primary focus—one on the normative ethics of character development, the other on the metanormative foundations of political liberty. This essay first summarizes Kristjánsson’s core arguments concerning character, practical wisdom, and education. It then critically evaluates his project before comparing it with Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s theoretical architecture of Individualistic Perfectionism. The article concludes by discussing how Kristjánsson’s developmental insights can potentially be integrated with a liberty-centered perfectionist framework. It does this by assessing their compatibility and exploring how aspects of Kristjánsson’s educational and character-focused framework might enrich and build upon the political philosophy of Rasmussen and Den Uyl.

 Aristotelian Character Ethics and Moral Psychology

 Kristjánsson (2015) defends a conception of moral character grounded in Aristotelian virtue ethics. He rejects reductive behaviorist or situationist interpretations of moral psychology, arguing instead that virtues constitute integrated dispositions involving cognition, emotion, motivation, and action. Virtue, on this account, is not mere conformity to external rules but stable excellence of character.

Central to this framework is practical wisdom (phronesis), which Kristjánsson describes as the coordinating capacity that enables agents to deliberate well about particular circumstances. Practical wisdom integrates moral perception, emotional regulation, and rational judgment. It allows ethical flexibility without collapsing into relativism.

Kristjánsson further defends an objective but pluralistic conception of flourishing. Flourishing is grounded in human nature and rational agency, yet admits multiple instantiations shaped by personal talents, cultural contexts, and life projects. This position preserves moral realism while accommodating diversity.

He develops an account of virtue that emphasizes its cognitive, affective, and behavioral dimensions. The practical ramifications are thoroughly explored. Kristjánsson considers whether and how schools can counteract the effects of a poor upbringing, the role of teacher training in fostering virtue, and specific methodologies for classroom practice. He rejuvenates the Aristotelian idea that virtue is developed through guided practice, habituation, emotional attunement, the emulation of exemplars, virtue literacy, deliberative dialogue, and Habituation framing the school as a crucial polis for moral development.

Guided practice involves modeling appropriate responses, providing structured opportunities for practice, and offering corrective feedback. Habituation combines behavioral repetition with reflective endorsement where virtues are practiced in a variety of contexts such as classroom discussions, group projects, conflict resolution, and community service. Emotion education teaches that virtues imply states of character involving both right reason and rightly ordered emotions (i.e., affective cultivation). The goal is to align reason and feeling using practical tools such as classroom dialogue, literature discussions, and reflective journaling. The emulation of moral exemplars provides images of flourishing with reference to historical figures, literary characters, community leaders, or teachers themselves. Virtue literacy is concerned with providing students with a moral vocabulary and helping them to identify and differentiate virtues. Deliberative dialogue is connected to virtue literacy and involves students examining cases and reasoning together about what a virtuous agent would do. Finally, the creation of a whole-school ethos or culture supportive of virtue development is another potential methodological emphasis. Such a culture embeds virtues in school policies, reward systems, disciplinary procedures, extracurricular activities, mentoring systems, honor codes, and so on. This book thus provides an interdisciplinary framework, drawing from philosophy, education, psychology, and sociology, to argue for character education as the foundational process for initiating young people into a life of virtue.

 Flourishing as the Aim of Education 

In Flourishing as the Aim of Education, Kristjánsson (2019) extends Aristotelian ethics into educational theory. He criticizes technocratic schooling models that emphasize standardized performance metrics at the expense of moral development. Instead, he argues that education should aim at cultivating virtuous, practically wise, and autonomous individuals capable of responsible self-direction.

Kristjánsson proposes an integrated model of moral education combining habituation, reflective understanding, and autonomy-supportive pedagogy. Students should internalize moral reasons rather than merely conform to behavioral expectations. He introduces the concept of “virtue literacy,” emphasizing moral vocabulary, ethical reasoning skills, and practical application. 

Importantly, Kristjánsson situates education within a broader moral ecology. Schools, families, peer cultures, and social institutions jointly shape moral development. Effective character education therefore requires institutional coherence between stated values and organizational practices.

Flourishing as the Aim of Education represents an expansion and deepening of Kristjánsson’s earlier work. Explicitly an outgrowth of his previous monograph, this book shifts the focus from character per se to the overarching aim it serves: student flourishing. Taking the Aristotelian concept of eudaimonia as its basis, Kristjánsson develops a theoretical study of flourishing that goes beyond Aristotle’s approach.

Kristjánsson contends that education’s ultimate purpose is to contribute to the student’s “good life.” This good life, however, must involve more than moral virtue or subjective happiness. He introduces the “Flourishing–Happiness Concordance Thesis” to critically examine the relationship between objective flourishing and subjective well-being, questioning whether they always align. He observes that these don’t always go hand in hand He contends that, yes, one can have happiness with flourishing but one can also happiness with no flourishing, no happiness with flourishing, and, of course, no happiness with no flourishing.  A significant and novel argument in the book is that even “supreme moral virtue” is insufficient for full flourishing. Kristjánsson proposes that flourishing requires engagement with “self-transcendent ideals” and the cultivation of “awe-filled enchantment”.

This leads him to incorporate elements often overlooked in standard character education literature: contemplation, wonder, awe, and what he terms “epiphanies”—transformative moments of moral and existential insight. He also extends the theory of exemplarity, arguing for the emulation of moral exemplars as a pathway to flourishing that moves beyond traditional models. By allowing for social, individual, and educational variance within the concept of flourishing, Kristjánsson provides a nuanced framework that engages with socio-political and spiritual issues, making it relevant for diverse educational contexts. Each chapter concludes with practical “food for thought” for educators, bridging theory with classroom practice. 

Critical Evaluation

While Kristjánsson’s synthesis is philosophically sophisticated and empirically informed, several limitations warrant scrutiny. First, his framework occasionally under-theorizes political constraints on institutional moral authority. Although he emphasizes autonomy-supportive education, he remains relatively silent on the legitimacy boundaries between education and moral governance.

From a flourishing individualist perspective, this raises concerns about value imposition. Even well-intentioned character education programs risk homogenizing moral outlooks and undermining pluralism. Kristjánsson’s emphasis on shared virtues requires careful specification to avoid transforming education into ideological socialization.

In addition, Kristjánsson’s reliance on institutional coordination presupposes cooperative alignment among cultural actors. In highly pluralistic societies, such coherence is unlikely. Without robust protections for parental choice and civil society autonomy, flourishing-oriented education may become politically contested.

Nevertheless, these limitations do not undermine the core contribution of Kristjánsson’s work. Rather, they highlight the need for integration with political theories that safeguard moral agency while enabling character development.

 Rasmussen and Den Uyl: Individualistic Perfectionism and Metanormativity

Rasmussen and Den Uyl articulate a distinctive neo-Aristotelian framework grounded in their philosophy of Individualistic Perfectionism. Flourishing is agent-relative: individuals pursue objective goods in diverse ways shaped by personal context and responsibility. Ethical objectivity does not entail uniform life plans. 

Their political theory is structured around metanormativity. In Norms of Liberty (2005), they argue that rights function as higher-order norms that protect the social space necessary for flourishing without prescribing substantive moral ends. Political institutions should enable flourishing conditions rather than enforce ethical ideals.

Norms of Liberty addresses what the authors term “liberalism’s problem”: how to establish a political/legal order that does not preferentially structure the conditions for one person’s or group’s flourishing over another’s. Their brilliant solution is the distinction between normative and metanormative principles.

Normative principles guide individual moral conduct—they are the virtues and goods that constitute a flourishing life. Metanormative principles, in contrast, concern the political/legal framework that makes the pursuit of diverse moral lives possible. Rasmussen and Den Uyl argue that individual rights (understood as negative liberties) are metanormative principles. Their function is not to directly promote human flourishing but to “create a space for each person to pursue a different and distinct form of life” by protecting the possibility of self-directed activity. Rights are thus “context-setting”; they establish the conditions under which moral conduct can occur, recognizing that coerced action can never be moral.

This allows them to advocate for a “perfectionist basis for non-perfectionist politics.” A neo-Aristotelian perfectionist ethics (which holds that flourishing is an objective, individualized telos) supports a non-perfectionist politics that refrains from legally mandating any particular vision of the good life.

In The Perfectionist Turn  (2016),  Rasmussen and Den Uyl shift from defending liberalism to fleshing out the “individualistic perfectionism” in ethics that undergirds their political theory. They challenge the assumption that a neo-Aristotelian ethical framework cannot support liberal politics by detailing the features of this alternative ethical system.

Individualistic Perfectionism maintains that while human flourishing is an objective end grounded in human nature, its concrete realization is uniquely individualized for each person. Generic goods (e.g., knowledge, friendship, health) and virtues (e.g., rationality, justice, courage) are necessary but must be integrated by individual practical wisdom (phronesis) in light of one’s specific circumstances, talents, and relationships. This ethics is agent-relative and anti-constructivist; moral truth is discovered in reality, not constructed by rational agreement. The book positions this framework as a major alternative to prevailing constructivist approaches in contemporary ethics.

 

In The Realist Turn (2020), they further emphasize responsibility and moral agency as central components of human flourishing. Flourishing requires self-directed practical reasoning within institutional frameworks that respect individual sovereignty.

The Realist Turn completes the trilogy by defending the metaphysical realism required for both individualistic perfectionism and natural rights. The authors argue that the entire project rests on the conviction that “man and the world exist apart from our cognition of them, and that people can know their nature”.

They launch a sustained critique of constructivism—the view that moral principles are determined by idealized rational procedures rather than discovered facts about reality. Constructivism, they contend, severs ethics from metaphysics, leading to a procedural, rule-governed, “one-size-fits-all” approach that cannot account for the individualized, context-sensitive nature of flourishing. In contrast, metaphysical realism holds that values are “fact-based” and discovered through rational engagement with the world. This realist turn is presented as essential for a proper comprehension and defense of freedom, as it grounds rights in the natural order of things.

Compatibility with Kristjánsson

Kristjánsson’s Aristotelian psychology essentially aligns with Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s ethical foundations. All emphasize objective flourishing, rational agency, practical wisdom, and character development. Kristjánsson’s developmental account of how virtues emerge complements Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s more abstract normative framework.

However, tensions arise regarding institutional authority. Kristjánsson’s educational perfectionism contrasts with Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s insistence on metanormative neutrality. A synthesis would reinterpret Kristjánsson’s insights through voluntary institutional contexts: families, private schools, community organizations, and civil associations rather than centralized state programs.

Kristjánsson and Rasmussen and Den Uyl share fundamental philosophical commitments that make their projects broadly compatible within the neo-Aristotelian tradition.

1. Objective Flourishing: Both affirm that human flourishing (eudaimonia) is an objective, naturalistic end, not a mere subjective preference.

2. The Role of Virtue: Both see moral virtue as a central constituent of the good life. Kristjánsson’s entire educational project is built on this premise, while Rasmussen and Den Uyl list virtues and generic goods necessary for any individualized flourishing.

3. Anti-Constructivism: Both reject constructivist approaches to ethics. Kristjánsson grounds character in a realist anthropology, and Rasmussen and Den Uyl make the critique of constructivism a centerpiece of their metaethical and metaphysical arguments.

4. The Social Nature of Flourishing: Both acknowledge that flourishing is inherently social. Kristjánsson emphasizes the educational community, while Rasmussen and Den Uyl view friendship as a constituent good and sociality as a necessary condition.

5. The Need for Practical Wisdom (Phronesis): Both emphasize the role of individual judgment. For Kristjánsson, students must develop practical wisdom to navigate moral life. For Rasmussen and Den Uyl, phronesis is the faculty that integrates generic goods into a unique, individual life plan.

Despite shared ground, their focal points create significant divergences.

1. Primary Focus: Normative vs. Metanormative: This is the most fundamental difference. Kristjánsson’s work operates at the normative level: How do we become good and flourish? His subject is the content and process of moral education. Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s work is primarily metanormative: What political framework allows different answers to the normative question to coexist? Their subject is the context for moral activity, not the activity itself.

2. The Role of Politics and the State: Rasmussen and Den Uyl rigorously limit the state’s role to securing rights (the metanormative framework), arguing politics is “not suited to making men moral”. Kristjánsson, while not prescribing a state-led curriculum, inherently sees public education as a key institution for normative character formation. A tension arises: if the state funds and regulates schools, can it do so without violating the “non-perfectionist” principle by endorsing a particular (Aristotelian) vision of the good?

3. The Sufficiency of Moral Virtue: Kristjánsson’s later work argues that moral virtue is necessary but not sufficient for flourishing, requiring awe, wonder, and self-transcendence. Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s list of generic goods is more traditional and inclusive, but their framework might accommodate Kristjánsson’s “enchanted” elements as legitimate aspects of an individualized flourishing life. However, their emphasis on self-direction and agent-relativity might view prescribed “spiritual” elements in education with more caution.

4. Scope of the “Social”: For Kristjánsson, the educational community is a direct vehicle for moral formation. For Rasmussen and Den Uyl, sociality is a good, but the political/legal order must be neutral among the diverse forms of social life individuals choose. The “open-ended” nature of sociality in their framework prioritizes voluntary association over the structured community of the school.

 Toward a Synthesis

Integrating the ideas of Kristjánsson with those of Rasmussen and Den Uyl has the potential to yield a richer framework of neo-Aristotelian freedom and flourishing. Kristjánsson provides the psychological and pedagogical mechanisms by which individuals acquire moral competence. Rasmussen and Den Uyl supply the political architecture that protects moral freedom.

Such a synthesis supports a decentralized moral ecology in which character formation occurs within voluntary institutions operating under a metanormative rights-based framework. Flourishing becomes both a personal achievement and a socially supported process without collapsing into paternalism.

 A synthesis must explicitly address autonomy, spontaneous order, and the role of civil society institutions. These concepts are central to Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s realist liberalism and provide the institutional context necessary for integrating Kristjánsson’s moral psychology without collapsing into state-centered perfectionism.

Autonomy, for Rasmussen and Den Uyl, is not merely negative freedom from interference but the positive capacity for self-directed practical reasoning and responsible agency. Flourishing requires individuals to function as authors of their own lives, exercising judgment in selecting values, projects, and commitments. Kristjánsson’s autonomy-supportive pedagogy aligns with this view insofar as it emphasizes internalization of moral reasons rather than external compliance. However, Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s Individualistic Perfectionism insists that autonomy must be institutionally protected through rights-respecting frameworks that prevent coercive moral engineering.

Spontaneous order further clarifies how moral development can occur without centralized design. Following Hayekian insights incorporated into Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s realist turn, social coordination emerges through decentralized interactions, cultural evolution, and voluntary associations. Moral norms, educational practices, and character formation strategies evolve organically within communities rather than being imposed from above. Kristjánsson’s emphasis on moral ecology can be reconceived within this spontaneous order framework, where diverse educational models compete, adapt, and innovate according to local needs and values.

The institutions of civil society serve as the primary mediating structures between individuals and the state. Families, religious organizations, independent (private) schools, professional associations, charities, and community networks constitute the institutional infrastructure of a free society. These voluntary associations may be able to provide moral formation environments consistent with Kristjánsson’s character education goals while remaining compatible with Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s metanormative liberalism. They allow pluralistic experimentation in virtue cultivation without political homogenization.

This institutional architecture preserves both moral substance and political restraint and avoids the false dilemma between moral relativism and state-enforced virtue. Instead, it supports a pluralistic ecosystem of character formation anchored in autonomy, spontaneous order, and voluntary cooperation. Within this framework, Kristjánsson’s developmental insights may potentially gain practical application while remaining compatible with liberty-centered political theory.

Kristjánsson’s detailed work on the process of flourishing has the potential to usefully complement Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s work on its preconditions. Several of his ideas may be able to be incorporated into a liberal perfectionist perspective without violating its metanormative constraints.

1. Articulating the “Individual” in Individualistic Perfectionism: Rasmussen and  Den Uyl assert that flourishing is individualized but say less about how individuals develop the capacity for such self-direction. Kristjánsson’s developmental psychology of virtue—how phronesis, empathy, and integrity are cultivated from childhood—provides essential content for understanding the “individual” who is to be the agent of his own flourishing. This can strengthen their ethics by showing how the capacity for self-direction is nurtured, not merely presupposed.

2. Enriching the Concept of Flourishing: Kristjánsson’s argument for the role of awe, wonder, and “epiphanies” offers a compelling expansion of the “generic goods” that constitute a flourishing life. A liberal perfectionist can argue that education should expose children to the potential for such experiences (through art, science, nature, philosophy) as part of developing their capacity to appreciate and pursue a full life, without dictating the specific objects of awe.

3. A Framework for Voluntary Educational Communities: Rasmussen and  Den Uyl’s framework favors voluntary association. Kristjánsson’s research provides a blueprint for what parents and educators in such voluntary communities (including charter schools, private schools, or homeschooling networks) might aim for in character education. It offers an empirically-informed “perfectionist” curriculum that respects pluralism by being one offered option among many, not a state-mandated monopoly.

4. Connecting Entrepreneurship and Moral Education: Rasmussen and Den Uyl draw an analogy between the entrepreneur and the moral agent, both navigating uncertainty with creativity and alertness. Kristjánsson’s work on exemplarity and moral development provides a pedagogical correlate: how to educate individuals to become such alert, creative moral “entrepreneurs” of their own lives. This creates a powerful synergy between their economic and ethical individualism.

Conclusion

Kristjánsson’s Aristotelian ethics and educational philosophy advance contemporary virtue theory by reconnecting flourishing with empirical psychology and institutional practice. In turn, Rasmussen and Den Uyl’s Individualistic Perfectionism provides the necessary political safeguards for preserving individual moral agency.

Kristján Kristjánsson and the duo of Rasmussen and Den Uyl represent two strands of contemporary neo-Aristotelian thought. Kristjánsson delves deeply into the normative and developmental question of how human beings become virtuous and flourish, particularly through education. Rasmussen and Den Uyl address the prior political question of how to create a society where diverse, individualized pursuits of flourishing can coexist peacefully, grounding their answer in metanormative theory and metaphysical realism.

Their projects are not so much incompatible as they are complementary, operating at different levels of analysis. The primary tension lies at the intersection of state action and education. However, within a political order that respects rights as metanorms, Kristjánsson’s work may become invaluable. It provides a guide for the voluntary communities, families, and individuals that seek to answer the normative question within their own lives. By integrating Kristjánsson’s insights into the cultivation of character, practical wisdom, and a sense of wonder, the Individualistic Perfectionism of Rasmussen and Den Uyl could gain greater psychological depth and pedagogical traction. Together, these bodies of work potentially offer a more complete picture: a liberal society that protects the space for freedom, populated by individuals educated to use that freedom wisely in the pursuit of a truly flourishing life. 

 References

Den Uyl, Douglas J.  and Rasmussen Douglas B. (2016). The Perfectionist turn: From Metanorms to Metaethics. Edinburgh University Press.

Kristjánsson, Kristján. (2015). Aristotelian Character Ethics: An Aristotelian Approach to moral Psychology. Oxford University Press.

Kristjánsson, Kristján. (2019). Flourishing as the Aim of Education: A neo-Aristotelian View. Routledge.

Rasmussen, Douglas B.  and Den Uyl, Douglas J. (2005). Norms of liberty: A Perfectionist Basis for Non-perfectionist Politics. Pennsylvania State University Press.

Rasmussen, Douglas B. and Den Uyl, Douglas J.  (2020). The Realist Turn: Repositioning Liberalism. Edinburgh University Press.

 

Other essays by Ed Younkins on this site:

Younkins, Edward W (2025) “What Contribution did David L. Norton Make to our Understanding of Ethical Individualism?” Freedom and Flourishing. January 18, 2025.

Younkins, Edward W. (2025) “How can dialectics help us to defend liberty?” Freedom and Flourishing. July 8, 2025.

Younkins, Edward W. (2025) “How can Austrian Economics be reconciled with the Neo-Aristotelian philosophy of Freedom and Flourishing?” Freedom and Flourishing. October 24, 2025.

Younkins, Edward W. (2025) “Can Polarized Moral Politics be Bridged by a Neo-Aristotelian Philosophy of Freedom and Flourishing?” Freedom and Flourishing. December 13, 2025.

Younkins, Edward W (2026) “Does Humanomics Need a Moral Anchor?” Freedom and Flourishing. January 22, 2026.