Who are you?

 The following essay is an edited transcript of a podcast episode I released a few years ago. I have decided to publish the transcript in essay form because I want to refer to it in a subsequent essay. It is easier to find particular words and paragraphs in an essay than in a podcast. Besides, when I listened to that podcast episode again, I decided that the sound of my voice distracted from the ideas I was presenting. 

My main qualification for talking about personal identity is that I have been around for long enough to have thought quite a lot about my own identity. I hope that what I have to say will interest other people. In any case, writing this podcast script should also help me to remember what I have learned about myself.

Rather than meander through the circuitous history of my thinking, I will focus here on what I now consider to be a sensible approach to the topic. I will begin by discussing the most superficial aspects of personal identity and will end up considering whether your identity would be retained if your consciousness was uploaded into a machine. Along the way, I will touch upon a range of other issues that might be of interest:

·       Is your identity defined by personal information about you?

·       Does your life-story define who you are?

·       How can aspects of your identity change over time?

·       Is the essence of your identity located in your conscious mind?

·       Where did Descartes go wrong in asserting “I think, therefore I am”?

·       What kind of being are you?

·       How does self-direction fit in to your identity?

Let us begin.

Is your identity defined by personal information about you? 

Your passport has information about your name, nationality, date of birth and sex. It also shows a photo that looks something like you. Other government documents may include additional information such as your place of residence.

If you wanted to tell me who you are, you might provide further information such as your occupation, marital status, whether you have had children and how many, ethnicity, religion, political views, education level, schools attended, employment history, the places you have lived in the past, your hobbies, books you have read, sports you have played or enjoy watching, movies you liked, and other entertainment preferences.

A person with all that information would know a lot about you. They might be well placed to predict how a person like you might spend money or vote, but they would have only a superficial view of who you are as an individual.

Does your life-story define who you are?

Your own understanding of who you are probably includes a narrative covering important events in your life, a view about important things you have learned from life, your personal values, and how you came to hold those values.

So, if you were to write an autobiography covering all those aspects, would that encapsulate a comprehensive understanding of your identity? I doubt it. If you are anything like me, a few days after you finished writing the book you would think of something important that you wanted to add.

What I am suggesting is that even though we know more about ourselves than anyone else can possibly know about us, our self-knowledge is never perfect. As you go through life, you may discover more about who you are, and some aspects of your identity may change.

How can aspects of your identity change over time?

Let us assume for the moment that the concept of identity implies the existence of an unchangeable essence at the core of who you are. I will consider the validity of that assumption later, but I first want to discuss how some aspects of your identity can change.

It is obvious that there are various ways in which the information in your passport and other identity documents can be changed. I will focus on how more fundamental aspects of identity, such as character traits, may change over time.

It may be possible for your character to change as a consequence of changes in the social and economic environment in which you live. People do tend to respond to incentives. For example, if the social and economic environment rewards cooperation for mutual benefit, that provides an incentive for people to develop habits of trustworthy behavior that will enable them to participate more fully in those benefits. The opposite happens if the social and economic environment rewards predatory activity.

However, that does not mean that your identity is “socially constructed”. The social and economic environment affects the incentives you face, but you can still choose how to respond to those incentives. People often think carefully before responding to incentives. And they sometimes choose to respond differently than they have in the past. The behavioralist assumption that people respond automatically to stimuli is a distorted view of human nature.

Individuals can also choose to change their behavior in ways that change their identity. You may discover that you have an aptitude to do something – for example, to assist other people to learn – and some aspects of your identity may change as you acquire skill in doing that.

It is even possible for people to discover that they have potential to change their personality to some extent. Traits such as extroversion, conscientiousness, agreeableness, and emotional stability tend to be fairly stable in adults, but some research suggests that people can even change such traits if they make active efforts to do so. We discover our potential as we actualize it. There is some discussion of that process in Chapter 8 of my book, Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing.

If fundamental aspects of your personality can change over time, that raises the question of where we should look if we want to find an unchangeable essence at the core of your being.

Is the essence of your identity located in your conscious mind?

In his book Thinking Fast and Slow Daniel Kahneman, a psychologist, suggests that the system in the mind that makes judgements and choices is “who we think we are” (Kahneman 2011, loc. 7547/9800). He is probably correct that most people tend to identify themselves with that system.

However, I argue in Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing, that people are making a cognitive error when they identify themselves in that way (Bates 2021, p.140).

In order to explain why, I need to explain the two systems in the mind that Kahneman employs in his discussion. System 1 engages in intuitive thinking (fast thinking) and tends to produce quick answers to complex questions. It operates with little effort and no sense of voluntary control. System 2 allocates attention to the effortful mental activities that demand it. Kahneman suggests that System 2 is who we think we are (Kahneman 2011, loc. 7547-7556/9800).

When I first read about Kahneman’s System 1 and System 2 several years ago, I saw parallels with the concept of Self 1 and Self 2 developed by Timothy Gallwey, a sports and business coach and author of popular ‘inner game’ books (Gallwey 1986, pp. 18-19). Gallwey observed that when he was playing tennis, he seemed to have two identities: Self 2 was playing tennis and Self 1 was constantly interfering by telling him how to play. It struck me that Gallwey’s Self 1 might correspond to Kahneman’s System 2 and that Gallwey’s Self 2 might correspond to Kahneman’s System 1.

The point I want to make is that it is not possible to judge whether it is more appropriate to identify with System 1 or System 2 without considering the nature of the activity that you are engaged in at a particular time. If you are playing sport, it often pays to identify as a fast thinker, responding intuitively and ignoring the unhelpful advice of the inner coach who is warning you to think carefully to avoid making an error.

If you are making a career choice, it makes sense to identify yourself as a person who thinks carefully about important decisions.

Should we view the system that makes judgements and choices as some kind of inner philosopher who thinks dispassionately? There was a time when I thought that. However, I had to ditch that idea after I read Antonio Damasio’s book Descartes Error. Damasio, a neurologist, pointed out that when people suffer brain damage that causes loss of most of their emotional lives, they are unable to make simple decisions even if their reasoning and logical abilities are intact (Damasio 1994, p.78).

In his book, The Happiness Hypothesis, Jonathan Haidt argues that “Reason and emotion must both work together to create intelligent behavior, but emotion ... does most of the work”. He presents a useful metaphor - an elephant and its rider - to explain the relationship between the controlled and automatic systems that determine human behavior. Haidt writes:

“The controlled system ... is better seen as an advisor. It’s a rider placed on the elephant’s back to help the elephant make better choices. The rider can see further into the future, and the rider can learn valuable information by talking to other riders or by reading maps, but the rider cannot order the elephant around against its will. ... The elephant and the rider each have their own intelligence, and when they work together well they enable the unique brilliance of human beings” (Haidt 2006, p 160).

Haidt is inviting us to identify ourselves as both rider and elephant.

That seems to me to make more sense than to identify myself only with the rider, or the system in my mind that makes effortful judgements and choices. When I exercise my cognitive abilities in non-judgmental observation of bodily sensations and ideas floating past, I identify with a natural self that embodies instinct and emotion as well as reason, and all the inherent potential that individual humans are born with. I invite you to engage in similar meditative practices to see if you come to the same conclusion.

That might be a good point to end on. However, many of you will be reluctant to trust your meditative insights unless you can be persuaded that there is a philosophically respectable basis for them.

We should not even view the meditative insights of prominent philosophers as being beyond question. The philosopher I have in mind is René Descartes, who claimed “I think, therefore I am” in the 17^th century, after he had engaged in a meditative process.

Where did Descartes go wrong?

Descartes reached his conclusion, “I think therefore I am”, after going through a process of considering what sources of knowledge could not be doubted, and discovering that he could not doubt that he was thinking.

I have already mentioned Antonio Damasio’s book, Descartes Error. What does Damasio see as the source of Descartes’ error? Damasio makes the point that beings existed before long before the evolution of humans who are aware that they are thinking (Damasio 1994, pp. 248-9).

In his book, The Metaphysics of Emergence, Richard Campbell suggests that Descartes was on the right track in observing that he was unable to doubt that he was thinking. Campbell suggest that the error arose when Descartes asked himself, “What then am I?” That question “presupposes that he takes himself to be some sort of thing” (Campbell 2015, pp.282-3). Campbell suggests that Descartes question immediately entrapped him in the traditional metaphysics of entities.

At this point I must explain why Cambell considers it to be problematic to consider oneself as an entity rather than as a process.

What kind of being are you?

You observe that you are thinking, and conclude that you are a thinking being. You also observe that you are a being that has a body, and that you experience sensations and emotions.

It appears obvious that you are an entity that has all those qualities. But you are also the observer engaged in self-reflection. You can engage in radical reflexivity as you observe the thoughts passing through your own mind.

However, if you are an entity, how can you be both the observer and the being that you are observing? Could you be two entities? I don’t think so. The observer, who is you, does not exist independently of the being who is observed, who is also you.

Richard Campbell suggests a way out of this dilemma. Drop the assumption that you are a fixed, given entity. The alternative he suggests is to perceive yourself as a complex process system. That enables you to perceive of radical reflexivity as a process. He writes:

“If the assumption that there is a fixed, given entity called ‘the self’ …  is rejected, the way is open to understand consciousness as a flow: a complex, emergent and interactive process which is radically reflexive” (Campbell 2015, p.292).

Our observations of the world tell us that many other animals are also aware of their surroundings. We have no problem in understanding that their awareness emerged or evolved to help them to survive and reproduce. Our human consciousness is just another step in that evolutionary process. Radical reflexivity - awareness of our own awareness - has emerged to help us to flourish as individuals in the cultures in which we live.

Campbell suggests that the flow of consciousness is analogous to a river maintaining its identity as it flows though different places. Your understanding of who you are is informed by the flow of your consciousness through time. In other words, your sense of identity is informed by your autobiographical memories. Campbell explains that this sense of identity also involves an element of projection into the future:

“I am a complex process system continually projecting myself out of my past into my future, my sense of myself necessarily involves my ‘has been’ and my ‘not yet’ (Campbell 2015, p.292).

As you think about your “not yet”, you might imagine a future that is different than your past. Perhaps that is just wishful thinking. Or you might be considering options available to change your life in various ways, or how to achieve a vision that you have for your own future. That brings me to the concept of self-direction.

How does self-direction fit into your identity?

As explained in Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing, I subscribe to the view that wise and well-informed self-direction is integral to the process of individual flourishing. The nature of humans is such that as individuals mature, they normally have the potential to exercise the practical wisdom and integrity required to direct their own flourishing in accordance with goals they choose and values they endorse.

However, wise and well-informed self-direction is not an attribute that is manifested by all adult humans. It is to some extent a product of the incentives in the social environment in which people live. When the social environment requires individuals to accept responsibility for the outcomes of the choices they make, they have a strong incentive to become wise and well-informed.

Acquisition of skills in self-direction is also a product of personal attitudes. Unfortunately, some people perceive that nothing they do will make any difference to their lives. Others, who have similar history, perceive the potential to improve their lives and often make inspiring efforts to so by investing in personal development.

In my personal experience, it is easier to avoid behaving like a grumpy old man when I remind myself to be the person that I have potential to become.

That brings me close to the end of what I have to say. However, before I sum up, I will keep my promise to talk about the question I said I would end on.

Would your identity be retained if your mind was uploaded into a machine?

Some neuroscientists think this might be feasible within a few decades. They point to scientific advances that suggest it might be possible, and say they are not aware of any laws of physics that would prevent it.

I am not qualified to have an informed view on the technical feasibility of mind uploading, so I will think of it merely as a thought experiment.

Imagine that your mind has been uploaded and you wake up with your memories intact in an environment that looks like the real world as you know it. Is this emulated mind actually you? As I see it, that is something that your emulated mind would have to decide for itself.

However, that does not prevent me from speculating how an emulated mind might perceive its own identity if separated from the body which it remembers as an integral component of the complex processing system from which it was derived. Perhaps the emulated mind might feel as though it is having a dream and is unable to wake up. It might feel more like a ghost than the natural self – the mind-body system – that it remembers as its former self.

It might identify as “the ghost in the machine”.

Summing up

I began by suggesting that personal information about you gives only a superficial view of who you are as an individual. Your life story might encapsulate all the important things that you know about yourself, but self-knowledge is never perfect. As you go through life, you may discover more about who you are.

Aspects of your identity may change over time. Your character might be influenced by changing incentives of the social and economic environment. And you may even change aspects of your personality to some extent, by choosing to develop new habits.

So, where is the essence of your being located? I argue that it is a mistake to think it is located solely in your conscious mind.

Descartes correctly observed that he was thinking, but in concluding “I think, therefore I am” he overlooked the fact that he had already assumed that he was some kind of being.

You are the kind of being that can observe itself. It is difficult to comprehend how you can be both an observer and the object of your observation if you think of yourself as an entity. Thinking of yourself as both observer and object poses no problem if you think of yourself as a complex processing system.

You cannot doubt that you think. You are aware of both the flow of inner experiences – thoughts and feelings – and of your experience of the world in which you live. Thinking about your experience of the world enables you to contemplate the goals you seek, to make choices in pursuit of those goals, and to learn from experience. Your sense of identity is informed both by autobiographical memories and by future projections.

If you accept that wise and well-informed self-direction is integral to your flourishing, you are likely to think of yourself as seeking to become the kind of person who has the practical wisdom and integrity to flourish in accordance with goals you choose and values you endorse.

I have speculated that if your mind was uploaded into a machine, the emulated mind would not perceive itself to be a real person with a body as well as a mind. It might remember you as its former self, but would see itself as being something like a ghost.

You understand who you are from the ongoing experience of your whole self, living in the real world. Walt Whitman captured that well in his poetry. I will leave you to contemplate a fragment from his poem, “A song of myself”:

“My respiration and inspiration, the beating of my heart, the passing of blood and air through my lungs,
The sniff of green leaves and dry leaves, and of the shore and dark-color’d sea-rocks, and of hay in the barn,
The sound of the belch’d words of my voice loos’d to the eddies of the wind,
A few light kisses, a few embraces, a reaching around of arms,

The play of shine and shade on the trees as the supple boughs wag,
The delight alone or in the rush of the streets, or along the fields and hill-sides,
The feeling of health, the full-noon trill, the song of me rising from bed and meeting the sun.”

 
References

Bates, Winton, Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing (Hamilton Books, 2021).

Campbell, Richard, The Metaphysics of Emergence (Palgrave Macmillan, 2015).

Gallwey, Timothy, The Inner Game of Tennis (Pan Books,1975).

Haidt, Jonathan, The Happiness Hypothesis (Basic Books, 2006).

 Kahneman, Daniel, Thinking Fast and Slow (Penguin, 2011).

 Whitman, Walt, Complete Works of Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass, Book III ‘Song of Myself’. (The poem, ‘Song of Myself’, was first published in 1855 in the collection Leaves of Grass.)

What did Aristotle have to say about mortality?

 

I had not thought much about what Aristotle had to say about mortality before reading the chapter on mortality in Edith Hall’s book, Aristotle’s Way: How Ancient Wisdom Can Change Your Life (Vintage, 2018). (I have previously posted a guest essay by Leah Goldrick discussing Hall’s chapter on leisure.)

Hall’s chapter on mortality led me to ponder the title of Aristotle’s book, On Coming to Be and Passing Away. Hall mentions that book in making the point that Aristotle “undoubtedly saw death as final” even though he was sympathetic to those who were comforted by beliefs about an afterlife.

Passing

The reference to “passing away” brought to mind the use of that term, along with “passing on”, or just “passing” in referring to death. Such euphemisms make sense when motivated by a desire to avoid reminding people of the grief they felt following the death of a loved one. However, they may also refer to an afterlife. When I was a child I had no difficulty accepting my grandmother’s explanation of “passing” as being like moving from one room to another. That view was in keeping with her somewhat Platonic religious beliefs, as a follower of Mary Baker Eddy. Mrs Eddy explained death as a transitional stage in human experience and a product of what she regarded as the false belief that there is life in matter. Mrs Eddy’s beliefs now seem to me to be quite strange, but I still think her view of death is more coherent than some versions of popular theology, which seems to have the souls of dead people hanging around observing their descendants and applauding their accomplishments when they receive awards for sporting and other achievements.

I became agnostic on the question of life after death when I was a young adult. As an old man, I am now almost certain that Aristotle was correct in his belief that death is “the end”. However, I cannot completely rule out the possibility that I could have some kind of ongoing spiritual identity, and might wake up in another place – perhaps a very hot one – or even in another body.

The most terrible of all things?

Actually, Aristotle wrote: “death is the most terrible of all things, for it is the end.” I don’t agree that death is the most terrible of all things. Death can be terrible, but some forms of suffering are more terrible to contemplate than non-existence. I am too much of an Aristotelian to accept a Buddhist view of suffering as encompassing the desires and aversions that are a normal part of living, but the suffering an individual might endure - for example, with approaching dementia - would seem to me to worse than an early death.

However, before agreeing with me, readers should consider the context in which Aristotle stated that death is the most terrible of all things. The passage appears in Nicomachean Ethics III (6) where he is writing of courage and fear. Aristotle begins by making the point that we fear all evils - e.g. disgrace, poverty, disease, friendlessness, death - but the brave man is thought not to be concerned with all of them. He then asks: With what sorts of terrible things is the brave man concerned? It is at that point that he states that death is the most terrible of all things, but qualifies this immediately afterwards by suggesting that the brave man would not seem to be concerned about death in all circumstances. Please read again the relevant passage quoted in the epigraph.

Aristotle goes on to argue that “to die to escape from poverty or love or anything painful is not the mark of a brave man, but rather of a coward; for it is softness to fly from what is troublesome, and such a man endures death not because it is noble but to fly from evil” (III (7).

The golden mean

Edith Hall notes that, unlike many modern counsellors and psychotherapists, Aristotle did not prescribe “acceptance of death” as the “ultimate goal”. She writes:

“The honest truth about Aristotle’s philosophy is this: the better you have practised his ethics, and therefore the happier you have become, the more it looks, at least at first sight, that you have to lose when you die. If you have succeeded in making highly successful relationships, the thought of the interpersonal contact with your loved one ending can bring extreme but unbearable clarity to the delight your love of them brings, a clarity which may make any philosophical or theological comfort we are offered about death seem useless.”

In Aristotle’s philosophy, Hall suggests: “There is a pervasive sense that acknowledgement of our mortality and confrontation with its full implications can be used effectively to help us to live and die well.”

Hall considers whether Aristotle would have approved of the attitudes to mortality of various writers “whose obsession with death borders on fetishism”. She suggests that Aristotle would have argued for “a mean between deficiency and excess” in “our grappling with the prospect of death”. Looking toward the end an appropriate amount of time can help us to live well.

The thought that an Australian male of my age who is in good health can expect to live, on average, only about six more years helps motivate me to pursue projects that are important to me. That includes writing essays like this one.

A happy life

Hall notes earlier in her book that Aristotle did not reject Solon’s precept that no-one could ever be called happy until they were dead. In her chapter on mortality, she considers Aristotle’s discussion of whether a dead person could be called happy.  

Why would Aristotle take that idea seriously? When I looked at the context (Nicomachean Ethics, I (10) I found that Aristotle began his discussion by acknowledging the absurdity of the idea that a dead person could be called happy, given that happiness is an activity (“virtuous activity of the soul”). In the subsequent discussion, Aristotle adopts the standpoint of an observer assessing whether an individual has had a happy (flourishing) life. He toys with the idea that people could be described as happy and wretched at different times of their lives as their fortunes change. He notes, however, that a person who is truly good and wise always makes the best of circumstances. He ends up asking: “When then should we not say that he is happy who is active in accordance with complete virtue and is sufficiently equipped with external goods, not for some chance period but throughout a complete life?”

A point that Hall draws from Aristotle’s discussion of whether a dead person can be called happy is that “in other people’s memories, your ‘self’ as a unique person is made complete in ceasing to be susceptible to change when you die.”

Towards the end of the chapter, Hall discusses Aristotle’s views of memory and recollection. She notes that those who have passed away live on in the memories of those who loved them and those who were affected by them. She writes:

“An Aristotelian will use her memories in a disciplined and methodical way to help her cope with her own aging process and with the loss of loved ones.”

Hall also provides an interesting account of Aristotle’s thoughtfulness in preparing his will. For example, he stipulated that his slaves were to be freed immediately on his death, or at a specified later date (such as his daughter’s marriage).

 Conclusions

Edith Hall has written a helpful chapter on mortality in her book, Aristotle’s Way. The main message I take from that chapter, and from Aristotle’s writings on the topic, is to face mortality squarely.

Life is for living – for flourishing. Death is the end of life’s journey, but life is all about the journey not the destination. 

Unfortunately, for some people that journey ends unexpectedly and traumatically. 

For those of us who live to old age, awareness of our mortality can help us to make good use of our remaining time.

After individuals have died it is possible to assess more completely whether they have lived well because they are no longer susceptible to change. 

It is appropriate to celebrate the lives of loved ones who have passed away. They live on in our memories as unique individuals.

Part VII: What kind of political entrepreneurship is required?

 This essay is one of a series exploring the topic: What impact does political entrepreneurship have on freedom and flourishing? The series commenced with a Preface which provides a synopsis of the series and explains why I think it is important to obtain a better understanding of political entrepreneurship.

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Can strong political leadership bring about institutional change leading to greater economic and personal freedom?  That idea is easy to challenge. It recalls the oft quoted passage by Lord Acton:

“Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Great men are almost always bad men, even when they exercise influence and not authority: still more when you superadd the tendency or the certainty of corruption by authority” (Acton 1887). 

Yet, powerful leadership has attractions to many citizens. I don’t think the question of whether strong political leadership could be consistent with greater economic and personal freedom should be dismissed out of hand.

Restoring order

The attraction of strong leadership is most understandable in chaotic situations where social order has broken down and lives, liberty and property are threatened by groups that have resorted to violence to pursue nefarious ends. Under such circumstances there may be grounds to hope that a strong leader will be able to restore order and protect the rights of individuals.

As Vincent Ostrom pointed out, the ubiquity of coercion means that order and organization in human societies depends upon a Faustian bargain involving use of organized force (Ostrom 1997, p.121). As explained by Paul Aligica and Peter Boettke:

“The implication is that social order and its institutional dynamics are perceived as shaped by and operating under the shadow of the ongoing tension between the threat of chaos and the threat of tyranny” (Aligica and Boettke 2009, p.61).

Benevolent despotism

Some of the best advice for despots who wish to promote freedom and flourishing was provided by Lao Tzu:

“Govern the state by being straight forward; wage war by being crafty; but win the empire by not being meddlesome” (Tzu 1963, LVII p.64).

Aristotle’s politics is somewhat more challenging to libertarians, but Fred D. Miller makes a strong case that it is not anachronistic to attribute to Aristotle a concept of individual rights and support for a moderate degree of liberalism. (Miller 1995, pp.373-378).

Robert Faulkner observes that Aristotle ranks greatness of soul as the "crown" needed to perfect all the virtues, including justice. He writes:

 “Aristotle calls greatness of soul a kosmos. It is an ornament of good character that is also an exalting order: an ordering heightened by an awareness of the grand activities such a soul calls for and is owed” (Faulkner 2007, loc. 250/3375). 

According to Faulkner:

“Aristotle's diagnosis comes to this: the great-souled man is at once drawn above humanity and drawn to humanity. He exhibits his superiority by aiding his fellows, and yet his wish is less to aid them than to avoid being or appearing dependent on them” (Faulkner 2007, loc. 565/3375).

Faulkner suggests that while Nicomachean Ethics seems to imply that greatness of the soul is a desirable attribute of political leaders, Aristotle moderates that view elsewhere in his writings. In Ethics, Aristotle suggests that greatness, especially great power, is overrated: “it is possible for one who is not a ruler of land and sea to perform noble action” (Faulkner 2007, loc. 692/3375).

In more recent times, Max Weber’s argument that effective leaders must have charisma may be relevant in considering the potential role of leaders in restoring liberty. Weber argued that effective leaders must have a charismatic form of authority because that is the only form of authority capable of overcoming the constraints of organisation, legality and tradition:

“Devotion to the charisma of the prophet, or the leader in war, or to the great demagogue in the ecclesia or in parliament, means that the leader is personally recognized as the innerly 'called' leader of men. Men do not obey him by virtue of tradition or statute, but because they believe in him” (Weber 1946, p.79).

Weber argued that charismatic authority is required for leaders to be effective in their struggle against the impersonal forces of bureaucratization. It tends to appear in moments of crisis, when the leader performs a ‘miracle’ for a group that feels otherwise impotent and deeply threatened. Xavier Márquez suggests that Weber's conception of charismatic authority allows some demagogues to play a genuinely democratic role in modern societies when viewed through contemporary theories of representation (Márquez 2024).

Thus far, the discussion suggests that it is not possible to rule out the possibility that a benevolent despot could promote freedom and flourishing if he or she wished to establish supportive institutions and had appropriate leadership qualities. However, that seems unlikely to be a frequent occurrence.

 Does autocracy support economic freedom?

The point was made earlier in this series (Part II) that it is easier to identify individual political leaders who have contributed to low or falling freedom levels than those who have contributed to high or rising freedom levels. That is because political entrepreneurship tends to be less focused on individual leaders in countries where governments have greater regard for individual liberty. 

Nevertheless, the idea that autocrats have sometimes helped produce better outcomes may not be entirely fanciful. There may be some substance lying behind folklore that attributes improvements in economic freedom to autocrats such as Lee Kuan Yew in Singapore, Park Chung Hee in South Korea, Chiang Kai-shek in Taiwan and Augusto Pinochet in Chile.

However, even if it can be shown that in some instances autocrats have fostered greater economic freedom, and that this has been followed by improvements in personal freedom, it does not necessarily follow that a period of autocracy was necessary or justified. People in the countries concerned are better placed than foreign observers to make judgements about the use of force by autocrats in particular circumstances, but the idea that autocrats are more likely to make positive contributions to economic growth than democratic leaders does not stand up to scrutiny. William Easterly tested the proposition by relating economic growth outcomes to the periods during which autocratic and other leaders were in office. He found that “leaders matter very little” (Easterly 2013, pp. 308-26).

There is also strong empirical evidence that democracy, and the personal freedom associated with it, is compatible with high levels of economic freedom.

Which democracies are supporting economic freedom?

Vincent Geloso and Alex Tabarrok have assembled evidence that democracy and economic freedom are highly correlated. Except for Singapore and Hong Kong there are no jurisdictions with high levels of economic freedom that are not also democracies (Geloso and Tabarrok 2025, p.116). Countries which have experienced the greatest democratization (Peru, Taiwan, Portugal, Spain, and Greece) have also experienced improvements in economic freedom. There have also been substantial improvements in economic freedom in the countries of Eastern Europe which experienced democratization following the collapse of communism in 1989 (Geloso and Tabarrok 2025, pp. 125-8). Geloso and Tabarrok provide some strong arguments to explain the correlation between democracy and economic freedom that they observe.

It seems to me, however, that none of the explanations offered for the observed correlation between democracy and economic freedom provide grounds to allay concerns, discussed in the preceding essay, about the future of economic freedom in the long-standing democracies.

Economic freedom levels are beginning to slip in some of the long-standing democracies. While many of the newer democracies have been experiencing increased dynamism, the increasing entanglement of government, industry and community organisations in the long-standing democracies has been associated with a decline in dynamism.

There is not much evidence that either the progressive or conservative sides of politics in the long-standing democracies are currently offering policies to advance economic freedom. The progressive side of politics is tending to pursue social and environmental agendas without regard for their impact on economic freedom, or growth in productivity or incomes. The conservative side of politics is tending to pursue economic nationalist agendas without regard for their impact on economic freedom, or growth in productivity of incomes.

Experience suggests that substantial political support for economic freedom will return only after economic crises threaten to cause widespread misery. That raises the issue of what kind of political entrepreneurship might help to make economic freedom more secure in the long-established democracies.

Learning from previous reform experience

Some prominent political leaders in democracies have been able to pursue reforms directed toward expansion of economic freedom. During the 1980s, Ronald Reagan pursued such reforms in the USA, as Margaret Thatcher did in Britain. The reforms currently being pursued by Javier Milei in Argentina seem to be similarly motivated, but at the time of writing it is too soon to judge how highly Milei’s reforms will rate in terms of broad libertarian criteria. The economic problems confronting the United States and Britain in the 1970s and 80s provided the context in which political leaders could initiate substantial changes in the direction of economic and social policies. That is even more true of the economic circumstances in Argentina prior to Milei’s election.

The reform efforts by Reagan and Thatcher can be viewed as examples of heroic leadership which increased economic freedom. However, heroic leadership of that kind is not solely the prerogative of presidents and prime ministers. Similar reform efforts in New Zealand and Australia were led by government ministers responsible for economic policy, Roger Douglas and Paul Keating respectively, with prime ministers adopting a facilitating role.

Political leaders can rarely claim to be the authors of their reform strategies. Policy development that has led to greater economic freedom has drawn heavily on the ideas of prominent academics including Milton Friedman and Friedrich Hayek, on policy analysis in think tanks and on contributions of a few journalists who understand the issues.

In some instances, advisers within government bureaucracies have also played an important role in policy development. Roger Kerr, who held the position of Executive Director of the New Zealand Business Roundtable following a career in the New Zealand Treasury, provided a highly relevant comment about the need for advisors to focus their advice on their fields of expertise rather than on politics:

“Economists of all people should be conscious that the performance of bureaucrats in trying to pick winners and losers in the policy-advice market is likely to be as unimpressive as in the industrial domain – and for much the same reasons, namely lack of information and incentives. Perceived policy constraints are not always immutable. They can be shifted by reasoned analysis and well-constructed strategies for policy change, developed by interaction between political managers and technical advisers. Second-guessing political reactions can lead to narrowing of policy options and does less than justice, in recent New Zealand circumstances at least, to the intelligence of a number of politicians, on both sides of the political fence, who have been more aware of the gravity of New Zealand’s economic problems and prepared to tell the story like it is than many of their advising bureaucrats” (Kerr 1987, pp. 144-45).

Alf Rattigan is a prime example of a public servant who played a major innovative role in driving economic reforms in Australia.  Rattigan was chairman of Australia’s Tariff Board from 1963 to 1974 when it was replaced by the Industries Assistance Commission (IAC). He stayed on as chairman of the IAC until 1976, when he retired with ill health. Rattigan used his influence in those positions to play a pivotal role in terminating Australia’s long history of industry protection, which in turn, helped open Australia to the global forces that drove further market-based economic reforms. In a lecture presented in 2016, Paul Kelly, Editor-at-Large for The Australian and Australia’s most scholarly journalist, outlined the main elements that contributed to the success of Rattigan’s reform efforts (Kelly 2016). One element of Rattigan’s success was his integrity in taking seriously his legal responsibility as chairman of an independent statutory authority, in the face of opposition from the government of the day which believed that he should “accept the overall tariff policy of the government as given” and work within that framework. Another element was the ability of his professional staff to draw upon the methodology for measurement of effective rates of protection developed by Professor Max Corden. A small group of economically literate journalists played a crucial role in giving publicity to analyses demonstrating the costs of protection. Some groups, including farmers and miners, recognized that their members were disadvantaged by high levels of protection provided to the manufacturing sector and formed a free trade lobby. David Trebeck, an influential figure in the National Farmers Federation, said: “We fired the ‘bullets’ made by the IAC.” More politicians because advocates of free trade and political leaders eventually showed leadership by recognizing that “good policy is good politics”.

Unfortunately, looking back today on the economic reform efforts of the 1980s and 90s, it is apparent that the important reforms in the rules of the game made at that time have 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.

Mass movements

The problem of ensuring adoption of government policies that more consistently advance economic and personal freedom is not merely a question of how to elect political entrepreneurs with their hearts in the right place to national leadership positions. Experience has shown that the longevity of reforms cannot be guaranteed even when they are supported by a strong coalition of interest groups and result in more favourable economic opportunities for a large majority of the population.

In recent years, centre-left and centre-right governments which have followed policies that are broadly consistent with relatively high levels of economic and personal freedom have become vulnerable to competition from populist political entrepreneurs who prophesy catastrophic environmental and social consequences if their radical policy proposals are not followed. Populist policy innovators on the left and right sides of politics tend to promote vastly different fears, and to offer vastly different policies. However, one common feature of those populist policy innovators is their attempt to exploit a systematic anti-market bias among electors.

The pertinent question is how the anti-market bias of public opinion can be reduced. History suggests that this has occurred to some extent in the past via complex processes involving, among other things, political entrepreneurship in social movements. For example, Joel Mokyr notes that the move toward free trade in Britain in the first half of the 19^th century involved the influence of post-Smithian political economy, the growing political power of the new industrial elite, and debates about income distribution and food supply. He writes:

“The careers of Victorian free-traders such as Richard Cobden and John Bright and the liberal Tories of the post-1815 era represent the kind of mixture of economic interests and liberal ideology that eventually secured victory for free trade” (Mokyr 2009, p. 153).

Mikayla Novak has noted the importance of entrepreneurship in propelling social movements to extend the effective domain of freedom. In that context she notes that “people such as William Lloyd Garrison, Emmeline Pankhurst, Mohandas Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Lech Walesa, and Nelson Mandela” played an important role in “opposing unsatisfactory institutions and situations” although they, themselves, were not necessarily classical liberals by orientation” (Novak 2021, p. 45).

Is it possible that at some time in the future a broad social movement promoting classical liberal views could become sufficiently influential to ensure that children are offered as much tuition about the spontaneous order of the free market as they are currently offered about the workings of ecological systems in the natural environment? If that ever happens it will occur because of the actions of individuals.  As Edward W. Younkins has suggested, the task of building a free society depends on individual advocates of liberty who are “dedicated to preserving and strengthening the ideological and moral foundations of a free society”. Younkins notes that it is especially through the “numerous interactions with individuals” during their everyday lives that advocates of liberty can “transmit the freedom philosophy to the general public” (Younkins 2011, pp. 168-69).

Please see the final part of this series: Summary and Conclusions

References

Acton, Lord (John Emerich Edward Dalberg-Acton) Acton-Creighton Correspondence (1887) Acton-Creighton Correspondence | Online Library of Liberty

Aligica, Paul Dragos and Peter J. Boettke, Challenging Institutional Analysis and Development: The Bloomington School (Routledge, 2009).

Easterly, William, The Tyranny of Experts: Economists, Dictators, and the Forgotten Rights of the Poor (Basic Books, 2013).

Faulkner, Robert, The Case for Greatness: Honorable Ambition and Its Critics (Yale University Press, 2007).

Geloso, Vincent and Alex Tabarrok. “Two Peas in a Pod: Democracy and Capitalism”, in Scott C. Miller and Sidney M. Milkis (eds.) Can Democracy and Capitalism be Reconciled (Oxford University Press, 2025).

Kelly, Paul., “Economic Reform: A lost cause or merely in eclipse”, Alf Rattigan Lecture (The Australian and New Zealand School of Government, 2016).

Kerr, Roger, “Ideas, Interests, Experience and the Economic Adviser”, World Economy, 10, no. 2 (1987) pp. 131-54.

Márquez, Xavier, “Max Weber, demagogy and charismatic representation”, European Journal of Political Theory (2024).

Miller, Fred D., Nature, Justice, and Rights in Aristotle’s Politics (Clarendon Press, 1995).

Mokyr, Joel, The Enlightened Economy: An Economic History of Britain 1700 – 1850 (Yale University Press, 2009).

Novak, Mikayla, Freedom in Contention: Social Movements and Liberal Political Economy (Lexington Books, 2021).

Ostrom, Vincent., The Meaning of Democracy and the Vulnerability of Democracies (The University of Michigan Press, 1997).

Tzu, Lao., Tao Te Ching, D.C. Lau translation (Penguin Books, 1963).

Weber, Max, “Politics as a Vocation”, in From Max Weber: Essays in Sociology, edited and translated by H.H. Gerth and C. Wright Mills (New York: Oxford University Press, 1946).

Younkins, Edward W. Flourishing and Happiness in a Free Society, Towards a synthesis of Aristotelianism, Austrian Economics, and Ayn Rand’s Objectivism (University Press of America, 2011).

Should we expect our political leaders to be great and good?

 

I am writing this during an election campaign in Australia. By international standards, both chief contenders for public office could be aptly described as neither conspicuously great nor notoriously bad.

However, over the last three years, Australians have experienced the worst government that I can remember. Unfortunately, it is unlikely that the political alternative on offer would have been much better.

During the current election campaign, both chief contenders for national leadership have seemed oblivious to the decline in productivity growth that caused the good times to stop rolling on in this country. It has apparently not registered with them that vote-buying spending proposals are less appropriate under such circumstances than economic reforms to restore productivity growth. Moreover, the election campaign is being conducted as though nothing that has happened recently in the international economic and political environment might require Australians to prepare for difficult times ahead.

Fortunately, the question that I have posed above does not require me to consider which of the contenders for national leadership is most worthy of being prime minister of Australia.

Before I go any further, however, I should outline my (somewhat complicated) view of party politics in liberal democracies. I have yet to see a system of government that is better than the two-party system at enabling voters to hold governments accountable for their actions. One of the downsides of that system, however, is that it provides a strong incentive for political parties to reward team players who are willing to set aside their own views to support a party line. The insincerity that is often on display in the public performance of politicians makes it is difficult to avoid regarding politics as a disreputable profession. Nevertheless, I acknowledge that democratic political systems sometimes produce leaders who are highly principled and effective in enhancing opportunities for human flourishing.  

Should we expect our political leaders to be great and good? That question has arisen from previous research that I have undertaken about the roles of culture, ideology, and political entrepreneurship as factors influencing levels of economic and personal freedom in different countries. I will briefly outline some points emerging from that research before discussing Robert Faulkner’s book, The Case for Greatness: Honorable Ambition and its Critics (2007).

Points emerging from previous research

• Cultural values do not fully explain levels of economic and personal freedom in different countries. Suppression of liberty in countries with relatively low levels of economic and personal freedom, e.g. China, Iran and Venezuela, is a product of the ideologies of the governments concerned rather than the cultural values of the peoples. Similarly, a substantial number of countries with relatively high personal and economic freedom are performing better in that regard than can readily be explained on the basis of prevailing cultural values.
• It is not difficult to identify political entrepreneurs who have historically been major players determining outcomes in many jurisdictions where economic and personal freedom seems substantially at variance with underlying cultural values. There are good reasons for that. Media coverage tends to focus on political leaders, the challenges they face and the policies they adopt.
• Douglas North saw political entrepreneurship as being required to overcome high transactions costs involved in changing institutions – the rules of the game of society. There are high transactions costs associated with institutional change because institutions are path dependent, e.g. embedded in culture.
• Political entrepreneurship takes place within culture and is concerned with interpreting and influencing culture as well as formal rules (constitutions, laws and regulations). Some research suggests that successful political entrepreneurs tend to advance their ambitions by focusing on niches in the marketplace of ideas that established parties do not satisfy. They win support by emphasizing the problem-solving capacities of their ideas.
• Max Weber argued that charismatic and demagogic leadership may be required to overcome the impersonal forces of bureaucratization within democracies. Demagogic leaders are responsible for their cause, and thus capable of intentionally and rationally directing state power towards its achievement.  
• Weber suggested that demagogic leadership can be consistent with democracy, but he seems to have left aside the question of whether a demagogic leader can be both good and great.

The essays from which those points were abstracted can be found here and here.

 The Case for Greatness

 In making the case for greatness Robert Faulkner observes that thoughtful citizens and appreciative historians have no difficulty in acknowledging the greatness of people like George Washington, Winston Churchill and Nelson Mandela. By contrast, many of those who generalize about human affairs display a doubting cynicism about such greatness. He notes that “social scientists speak much of rational maximizing, power seeking, self-interest, and popular voice, but not much of extraordinary judiciousness, honorable aims, and knowing justice” and that “influential professors of philosophy and literature talk confidently of autonomy and equal dignity, while deprecating ambition for office and accomplishment as elitist domineering or a remnant of repressive culture”.

The author’s key contention is that the accounts of political greatness by Aristotle, Plato, and Xenophon “illuminate our experiences of a Mandela or a Margaret Thatcher far better than the critical and doctrinal theorizing that is more familiar and has been in the works for three or four centuries”.

 The book begins by considering Aristotle’s account of an honorable and just form of grand ambition. It then considers the political dangers and psychological dynamics of the less bounded and less just forms of ambition, using Alcibiades and Cyrus as examples of individuals who seek to rule empires. That is followed by a chapter discussing George Washington as an example of a gentleman-statesman. Along the way, the author notes the role of Niccolo Machiavelli in turning the orientation of much thinking about human affairs from what men should do “from duty and the best life” to what men do to advance themselves and their followers in wealth and power. The final chapters discuss modern theories that obscure the moral-political phenomenon of political greatness and make it “peculiarly alien to our apprehension and sensibilities”. One of the final chapters is devoted to discussion of the egalitarian theories of John Rawls and Hannah Arendt. The other discusses the theories of Thomas Hobbes, Immanuel Kant and Friedrich Nietzsche.

In what follows, I focus mainly on what the author has to say about Aristotle. Readers who are looking for a more comprehensive summary of The Case for Greatness should read the review by Paul A. Rahe.

Faulkner observes that Aristotle ranks greatness of soul as the "crown" needed to perfect all the virtues, including justice. He writes:

 “Aristotle does not mince words on this topic, and neither should we. No greatness without goodness, yes, but also no true goodness without greatness. The great-souled human being, in claiming a worthy stage, claims for human excellence the prominence and tasks it deserves. Accordingly, while greatness of soul "cannot exist without" such other virtues as moderation and justice, it also "enhances their goodness." A man of such virtue is too noble to stoop, or to accept the second best, especially in his own conduct. Aristotle calls greatness of soul a kosmos. It is an ornament of good character that is also an exalting order: an ordering heightened by an awareness of the grand activities such a soul calls for and is owed.”

Aristotle views the great-souled man as having a disposition to claim great honours because he considers himself worthy of them. The great-souled man has a true estimate of his own worth. He claims tasks that no-one else can do, or do as well. The great-souled man disdains the offices commonly sought by other ambitious people; he seeks the tribute and high offices that are “great things.

Aristotle equates greatness of the soul with magnanimity - which he also equates with excellence and justice. However, the great-souled man’s disposition is complicated because he seeks great positions and honours from others as well as virtue of soul for himself. Aristotle suggests that the great-souled man holds that nothing is greater than his own virtue and seems to regard any honour as less than what is due a soul of such worth.

The great-souled man’s desire for superiority may harbour a despotic impulse, but his virtue gives this impulse something of an honorable and just direction. Faulkner writes:

“It is the priority of virtue and honor, so understood, that largely distinguishes Aristotelian greatness of soul and a Washington.”

Later, he explains more fully:

“Knowledge of his virtue helps uphold the great man amidst changing fortune. Unlike Machiavelli's great man, his measure is not ambitious mastery of fortune, but living well amidst fortune's gifts and trials. It is after this purification of grand ambition that Aristotle sharply separates true pride from the all-too-common arrogance of the privileged. "In truth," "rightly," "justly," only the good should be honored.”

Faulkner concludes:

“Aristotle's diagnosis comes to this: the great-souled man is at once drawn above humanity and drawn to humanity. He exhibits his superiority by aiding his fellows, and yet his wish is less to aid them than to avoid being or appearing dependent on them.”

Faulkner suggests that while Nicomachean Ethics seems to imply that greatness of the soul is a desirable attribute of political leaders, Aristotle moderates that view in the Politics and Ethics. In Politics, he doesn’t forget the best man’s claims but presents them “only after defending at length the more common and political claimants to rule”. At one point he even praises “the decent and equitable man” over the great man. In Ethics, Aristotle suggests that greatness, especially great power, is overrated: “it is possible for one who is not a ruler of land and sea to perform noble action.”

Faulkner writes:

“Given the likelihood of war, the difficulties of preserving any regime, and the extreme rarity of the best regime, there will be opportunities enough for noble deeds, great things, and superiority over others. A great-souled man will have his opportunities; he will be often needed. But such a force, if a blind force, may also harm itself and those whom it would rule, including the most thoughtful. Whatever else Aristotle's Ethics and Politics may be, whatever the defects, his is surely a model effort to supply comprehensive light to the grandly ambitious and to those who depend on them.”

Faulkner ends his book with a discussion of Nietzsche, who “unlike Machiavelli, Hobbes, Locke, and Kant, trumpets an animus against ordinary people”. Faulkner’s final comment:

“Nietzsche's proposals and diagnoses alike invite us to look to more moderate accounts, whether in examples such as a Washington or in the historians and philosophers who took seriously what is good and true as well as what is strong and great. To encourage such looking is what this book is about.”

My assessment

I think Robert Faulkner has made a stronger case for goodness than greatness as a desirable attribute in political leaders. Greatness is required in times of crisis, but competence will suffice most of the time. It is important to recognize, however, that winning an election doesn’t make a person competent in dealing with public policy issues. People can acquire skills relevant to statecraft in a variety of different ways but, as in other professions, on-the-job experience seems indispensable to high-level performance.

The case that Faulkner makes for goodness leads to the question of what we mean by goodness as applied to political leaders. As I see it, there are two different aspects to this question.

The first concerns personal ethics. Should citizens expect the holders of high office in a democracy to conform to widely accepted norms of ethical behaviour? If we expect our sporting heroes to confirm to such norms in their off-field behavior, there is perhaps an even stronger case for the similar standards to be applied to politicians. Since politicians regularly ask voters to trust them to implement policies, it seems appropriate for voters to expect them to demonstrate trustworthiness in their personal behavior. (Of course, the personal ethics of candidates is only one of the matters that voters should consider, and other matters may well be more important in particular instances.)

The second aspect concerns confusion of soulcraft and statecraft. Soulcraft, the means by which individuals flourish and find fulfillment in life, is a matter that is best left for individuals to pursue in the manner they choose for themselves. Since self-direction is fundamental to individual flourishing, it is a mistake to believe that it can be advanced via government action to promote particular views of moral excellence. Aristotle may have had reason to believe that was possible in a polis in the ancient world, but it is certainly not possible in modern societies which are characterised by much greater diversity of cultural and religious influences.

Some Neo-Aristotelian philosophers have drawn a clear distinction between soulcraft and statecraft. In their book Norms of Liberty, Douglas Rasmussen and Douglas Den Uyl imply that the main role of statecraft is to restore or construct a political/ legal order in which “it might be possible for different individuals to flourish and to do so in different ways (in different communities and cultures) without creating inherent ethical conflict in the overall structure of their social/ political context.” (p 83)

In my view, we should judge our political leaders to be very good if they can manage to move the political/legal order toward achieving that outcome.

Addendum

Readers may also be interested in a later series of essays on political entrepreneurship.