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An Appreciation By Brian Micklethwait Political Notes No. 138 ISSN
0267-7059
ISBN 1 85637 374 6 © 1997: Libertarian Alliance; Brian Micklethwait. When not being the LA's Editorial Director and appearing for the LA on the radio and TV, Brian Micklethwait is a self-employed desktop pubiisher. The views expressed in this publication
are those of its author, and LA Director: Chris R. Tame FOR LIFE, LIBERTY AND PROPERTY
The recent publication of Charles Murray's What It Means To Be A Libertarian: A Personal Interpretation (Broadway Books, New York, 1997 - all quotes here are from this book) is a major boost for the libertarian movement worldwide. Many libertarians, especially American ones, start with the personal and only later get political. They pay too much tax. They're gay and the politicians are disrespectful. They want to drive at more than 55 mph, take a wierd drug, avoid a war, discriminate against a woman or watch some porn, and from that kernel of violated individuality they work their way upwards and outwards to full-blown libertarianism. A few years on, they're snarling about the costs of federal entitlement programs and orating statistics about the unwinnability of the war on drugs. Charles Murray began as a classic participant observer of public policy. It was the failures of these policies that made him a libertarian. Only now has he distressed his conservative friends by writing a book with a chapter in it called "Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll" which starts with the following proposal:
"incalcuble human suffering" Losing Ground: American Social Policy 1950-1980 (Basic Books, New York, 1984), Murray's first big attention grabbing book, was about the failures and contradictions of the American welfare state. In it, he proposed a thought experiment. If this welfare state didn't exist, then what? He liked the answers, because now he says: let's do that for real.
Murray tells how he flirted with Milton Friedman's Negative Income Tax idea, but then we read:
Government Versus Society A key insight into Murray's thought processes is to be found in his second and least publicly discussed book, In Pursuit: Of Happiness and Good Government (Simon and Schuster, New York, 1988). He tells of how he worked for two years in the Peace Corps in the villages of Thailand, and how, to his consternation, he encountered hostility from the citizenry of the villages. How come? He was giving them money, bestowing bounty upon them. Well, yes, but his projects never seemed to get anywhere, and he was also screwing around with the local power structure, turning a local community, with an elaborate system of personal status based on how much you contributed to local welfare, into a mere aggregation of welfare supplicants. The village elders didn't like it, and Murray came around to agreeing with them. If you put the government in charge of doing all the things formerly done by the local community, then say goodbye to the local community. Community becomes a mere word, for a bunch of people who exist and sleep near to each other, in the same dormitory so to speak, but who no longer have any meaningful social relationships with each. And it is in these kinds of relationships, says Murray, that most people find their deepest pleasures in life. Most people don't become supermodels or vice-presidents of major corporations, and make a stack of money so huge that they can just buy their way out of their demoralised and degenerating localities. Most people find their places in the world by being good sons and daughters, good parents, good neighbours and good local citizens. Even corporate vice-presidents often wish when they get older that they'd paid more attention to family and friends and neighbours, and less to getting ahead at work. Murray's libertarianism is the claim that citizenship should stop being a nationalised industry. It's not that he wants no pressure put on drug dealers or other degenerates. He wants to win the war on drugs. But, he wants to do it with social pressures, not laws and government bureaucracies. Let employers and landlords make judgements about their employees and their tenants, rewarding the decent citizens and punishing the selfish and lawless parasites. The way he puts it is: if you want your kid to go to a drug-free school, which is better? A massive nation-wide program to rid all American schools of drugs, or your local school governors having the right to expell drug takers and drug dealers from their school, and you having the right to pick that school for your kid? Some libertarians are almost as resentful about social pressures as they are of government commands. The usual complaint about radical individualists is that we exult that there is no such thing as society. For Murray, if there's no such thing as society then that's a disaster, and one that should be reversed.
Amen. Celebrity Via Notoriety With his talk of an emerging "underclass" Murray had created an intellectual battle ground upon which others - and not just other Americans - have eager to engage one another ("As Charles Murray says", or "As the notorious Charles Murray says", according to taste). So manifestly outrageous and manifestly malevolent did his claims about the underclass seem to his opponents that the usual procedure - ignoring criticism of statist welfare measures as beneath the need for a reply - was set aside, and Murray became a major intellectual celebrity, in a way which the welfarists surely now regret. And when The Bell Curve: Intelligence and Class in American Life (with Richard J. Herrnstein, Simon and Schuster, New York, 1994) came out the waste matter really hit the fan. This book is not centrally about the notion that different racial groups differ in average intellectual capacity, but this claim was briefly discussed, and Murray's enemies now felt they had the perfect ammunition to finish him off. This, they said, is just a fancy way of shouting "Nigger!" But Murray stood his ground, and as a result of that huge row became something very close to an American household name. What The Bell Curve is about is the increasing importance of intellectual facility in determining life chances in the modern world. Fifty years ago, the top American colleges would choose their students from the children of the local aristocracy, the smarter ones admittedly, but including also some dumb ones. Now, the best colleges pick the smartest kids from all over America. If you could now choose whether to be rich and dumb or poor and smart, go with smart and let the money take care of itself, which it will. America is now becoming dominated by a clever but not especially wise elite, who run things to suit themselves but in ways which often hurt others a lot. Regulation Which brings us to another great continuing theme in Charles Murray's writing: the pernicious growth of government regulation. Smart people working for big, rich corporations are interfered with by government regulations, but not remotely as much as the many smaller businesses run by the less smart masses. So, competitively speaking, government regulations help those clever enough to understand them and how to handle them. Murray spends a great deal of the small number of pages he has allowed himself in What It Means To Be A Libertarian on regulation, and he's surely right to do so. Regulation is now a crucial battleground between big and limited government. We've won on the ownership of the economy. If anything is to get done, there has to be "free enterprise". Only a few Stalinoid freaks deny that. The government can't control everything, make every decision. But most still suppose that "free" enterprise must still be controlled, reigned in, rendered un-extreme, and taxed half to death even if not the whole way. No says Murray. Give all businesses the right to opt out of government regulations, provided only that they say so to their customers, and continue to face the usual common law restraints about negligence, fraud and so on. Then we'll see how much good the existing regulations do, and how much harm. Most regulations, says Murray, would evaporate. Concessions As I say, What It Means To Be A Libertarian is a short book, and it doesn't deal with everything. Murray ignores guns, and foreign policy, for example. The proposal quoted above about how "Federal and state laws regarding alcohol, drugs, prostitution, gambling, and pornography are repealed" continues thus:
He has entirely orthodox views about parental rights, duties, pleasures and pains. His concern is merely that a state dominated world isn't the place where the orthodox parental virtues will flourish. To pay for education, he favours education vouchers rather than plain old money, a grievous concession to statism, because vouchers mean government officials still deciding what education is. But the bigger point to keep hold of is that such concessions don't set the tone of this book. Live and Let Live Although Murray's experience and policy examples are all firmly rooted in the USA, what he says is of universal appeal. I'll end with one of my favorite passages. (By the way, notice that the work of Adam Smith that he cites is not The Wealth of Nations).
Amen again. Charles Murray is a huge name,
and this is a huge book, all the huger for being so short
(just 178 pages). Not only are people now buying it by the
truck-load; they're also - surely - reading it. It's
tricked out to look like a prayer book, with pages that look
hand cut and with an old fashioned looking cover design. LA
Director Chris Tame has over the last few years been
compiling a computer file of libertarian quotes, of the sort
which either have echoed down the centuries, or which should.
Chris will have his work cut out with this book, because
paragraphs deserving of his attention are to be found on
virtually every page. |