Larry’s discussion of the different conceptions of capitalism and stateless society in his tribute to Ursula K. Le Guin reminded me of the discussions of capitalism and utopia in G.A. Cohen’s Why Not Socialism? and Jason Brennan’s Why Not Capitalism?
Cohen’s tiny book is a classic and an ambitious one. Though it barely clears 80 pages, it sets out to make the case that the utopia that we should wish for—even strive for—is a socialist one. As Brennan points out in his 99-page response, for many years Cohen’s opponents granted his claim that socialism doesn’t and can’t work, but if it could, and if we were good enough, it’s the morally best system to embrace.
Brennan makes it clear—more clear than Cohen does—that this is all Cohen argues for. He grants that the “design problem” of coming up with a workable economic system to replace capitalism might be one that we can’t overcome. All Cohen asks is that we want to overcome it, that we want to do better than capitalism. But this is ground that Brennan refuses to cede.
Ursula K. Le Guin did not care for capitalism.
What have I, a pro-market libertarian, to do with Ursula K. Le Guin, and what would move me to write an appreciation of her work?
Le Guin, who died last week at the age of 88, was an American novelist (her preferred designation) who mostly wrote science fiction and fantasy but also wrote poetry, “young persons’ fiction” and essays. Her novels won her five Locus, four Nebula, two Hugo, and one World Fantasy Award. Unsurprisingly she was also granted a number of lifetime achievement awards, all of them richly deserved. She was a feminist and an environmentalist, whose fiction pioneered themes of gender equality.
Conservative MP Kellie Leitch may have entered politics as a “star candidate,” but with her announcement that she would not stand for reelection in 2019 she leaves having flamed out. Read more
Several years ago, Peter Jaworski sketched out a definition of libertarianism that I’ve since come to think of as the only workable definition. I’m reposting it from Facebook.
The definition was fleshed out in response to (yet another) debate—this time involving Stephan Kinsella, but replayed many times between many people—about who “counts” as a libertarian.
The old accusation was that someone who doesn’t base their morality on the non-aggression principle can’t be a true or at least not truly committed libertarian. This accusation is bound to rile up some anarchist consequentialist, but more importantly, purges from libertarianism figures as important as Hayek, Mises, and Friedman. Today there are others who would like to disqualify from libertarianism those who worry about such distasteful goals as pursuing economic nationalism or those with more mainstream views on border controls and immigration. I wouldn’t say that these people are part of the same political project as I am, but (alas) I don’t think their underlying reasons for smaller government disqualify them from the label.
This is the strength of Jaworski’s definition: it moves libertarianism away from purity tests and purges and instead allows for a sort of pluralism within libertarianism and accommodates the many different and even disparate missions that libertarians pursue. Read more
Rising alarmism about the amount of energy used to mine bitcoin is leading to a proliferation of confused articles like Eric Holthaus’s Bitcoin could cost us our clean-energy future (Grist, Dec. 15, 2017).
Most of these articles repeat an error popularized by Christopher Malmo, who has written and rewritten the same article about bitcoin’s awful energy consumption for Motherboard since creating the genre with Bitcoin Is Unsustainable back in 2015. The error is based on Malmo’s conviction that bitcoin is mostly a replacement for credit cards. The fact that a single bitcoin is at present worth more than $14,000 CAD might help him see the difference if he were interested, but he isn’t, because he insists on repeating his conviction in each new article.
Why is this important? Because it leads him into a more serious error, which is confusing bitcoin mining, which takes a lot of energy, and bitcoin transactions, which do not (except in the sense that the mining, for the time being, validates them). This leads to a raft of horrifying comparisons: each bitcoin transaction “uses as much energy as your house in a week” (my house in frigid Montreal, or Malmo’s house in temperate Vancouver? dunno, but either way he’s wrong); bitcoin consumes as much energy as [ insert name of tropical country here ]. The truth, of course, is not that simple. Read more
Human beings are capable of many wonderful things: creating inspiring works of art, curing debilitating and deadly ailments, connecting the corners of the world with ever more impressive technologies of transport and communication. Though not the stuff of newspaper headlines, most of us contribute at least in some way to the betterment of our fellow man and woman through our productive work. We also perform many small yet significant acts of kindness and respect that reaffirm the value and dignity of each individual, as well as acts of love that signify even more. Read more
Human beings are flawed creatures. All of us are afflicted, to some degree, by laziness, greed, selfishness, dishonesty and every other distasteful characteristic that haunts our species. Living in civilized society requires us to suppress that side of our nature, and so we’ve developed all kinds of mechanisms to keep those impulses at bay. One of the more important ones, no doubt, is shame: the idea that there are certain things that one simply does not say or do in public, no matter how much one may want to, out of fear that those around us will disapprove.
I was recently reminded of the great value of shame, as I read an interview with Montreal restaurateur David McMillan. McMillan’s flagship restaurant, Joe Beef, needs no introduction to Montreal foodies. Consistently rated as one of the best in the country – if not the world – Joe Beef has flourished in one of the toughest dining markets around. Read more
The debate about whether ‘identity politics’ is crucial or dangerous to liberalism is on. And it is frustrating.
Jacob Levy came out swinging yesterday in defence of the crucial role of identity politics in liberalism, against arguments about the role of identity politics in the rise of illiberalism (and Trumpism) in the U.S., such as those presented by Reason’s Robby Soave and in Mark Lilla’s recent NYT piece. Jason Kuznicki has responded to Levy. Elsewhere, Tom Palmer names identity politics as a danger to liberalism in his fabulous essay on the three fronts of growing anti-libertarianism.
The first order of business seems to be to decide what, exactly, we mean by ‘identity politics’. Jason Kuznicki agrees:
“An equivocation is occurring here, between good and bad, both claiming to be “identity politics.” In cases like that, it’s morally imperative to differentiate rather than to lump together.”
I am concerned about identity politics as it’s represented by Tom Palmer and Jason Kuznicki, so I’ll draw from them as I take a stab at nailing down a definition of the ‘identity politics’ that worries me.
As folks struggle to deal with the populist, anti-market realignment on the right, Godwin’s law has been making itself more relevant. People who make the mistake of equating today’s right-populism with national socialism might be forgiven, even if they go too far, for a more appropriate term has been drained of meaning: fascism.
Anyone who says that politicians today are fascist sounds nuts. The word has been applied indiscriminately to dismiss people and policies so often that it’s devoid of meaning, though it’s broadly associated with an unhinged lust for power, disregard for constitutional law, and eugenic racism. But the original intent of fascism aimed at none of these things. I’ve written on how modest the tenets of fascism sound in today’s political climate. Steve Horwitz has been pressing the applicability of the technical term since last summer. The fact is that, fallen as the word might be, there’s simply not a good substitute.