Content & Context

By Nathan Bierma

Content & Context

The Books & Culture Weblog

September 2003

This Week:

Politics and the personal versus the public good
Places & Culture
September book blog

'LUCKY DUCKIES' AND THE TRAGEDY OF THE COMMONS

So far I've avoided mentioning last year's somewhat infamous Wall Street Journal editorial which complained that the poor don't pay enough taxes. (If they paid higher taxes, you see, then they would support President Bush's tax cuts!) The thought of the WSJ-ers sitting around in office suites in their nice suits trying to tell a hard-working citizen beneath the poverty line how it would be better if she were even poorer (and calling her a "lucky ducky")—well, this is why I sometimes think we'd be better off without politics. Until now, I figured the twisted logic spoke for itself.

But in a Web exclusive for The New Republic, University of Chicago professor Jacob T. Levy puts the editorial in context in a way that will challenge people of various political views. Although the "lucky ducky" piece was poorly executed, Levy says, the principle behind it is common, defensible, and used by both political parties. The principle is this: the more widely a political policy applies, the better the political climate for discussing and, if necessary, reforming it. Or, as Levy says: "If we subject everyone to the same rules, institutions, or conditions, then there will be political demand to make them fair or otherwise tolerable."

This line of thinking is what prompted a Democratic Congressman to call for a reinstatement of the draft before the recent war in Iraq, arguing that if more people had children in the line of fire, they would oppose the war. And it lies behind Democratic criticism of school vouchers; if the most able and talented students leave for private schools with the help of vouchers, the argument goes, there will be less reason to fix the schools they leave behind. And it undergirds the entire Social Security program, one of our nation's most socialist schemes, which, as Levy puts it, depends on "keeping everyone's fate linked."

Levy is more interested in identifying this principle than judging it, but he does make a rather alarming observation: The linked-fate argument involves

an element of exploitation, an apparent violation of the Kantian rule never to treat a person as mere means. The 18-year-old conscript killed in a war he opposed in order to discourage politicians from starting wars, the child kept in a failing school in order to persuade her parents to support a better public school system … all of these people are being used. … As individuals, each would be better off if allowed to opt out. But, in each case, that individual's welfare is subordinated to the collective goal.

If this sounds scary, Levy points out that it is, in theory, fundamental to a society dedicated to equality and democracy rather than rule by a detached elite. "Only if laws are drafted and enforced without respect to persons or identities, only if they are prospective and general rather than retroactive and selective or arbitrary, can we expect anything like just governance," Levy says. "To sometimes be yoked together under a shared institution in order to preserve its viability is the universal price of political life."

Levy's piece should be a discussion starter, and not the last word, but it will indeed start some productive discussions about our nation's political experiment.

• One theory that would have been interesting for Levy to tie in is what psychologist Garrett Hardin, studying international arms races in the 1960s, called the Tragedy of the Commons. Imagine a common lawn in the town square where 100 farmers each bring one cow to graze. The 100th farmer says to himself, "If I bring two cows tomorrow, I will benefit twice as much while causing only one percent more duress to the lawn." And this is a rational calculation. But if all 100 farmers think this way, the lawn will be overwhelmed and turn into a large patch of dirt. The principle—and the paradox of living in a freedom-loving society—Hardin said, is that the rational pursuit of self-interest can lead to the collective doom. By himself, that one farmer does not wish to bring about ruin. But when combined with 99 others, he takes that risk.

This is why a country such as the United States, one that is both patriotic and individualistic, has such an interesting and perplexing question constantly before it: How do we ensure individual prosperity and the public good at the same time? Since heaven, as I've written before, will be a social place—one where the collective good is sought and found—pondering this question is relevant preparation for the Heavenly City.

PLACES & CULTURE

From the New York Times:

HANGEN ROUTE TO ZIMBABWE, in South Africa—Every time this clanking 14-car train slows to a crawl — which is often — the policeman in Car 6 barks an order and 50 men bend over in their seats, heads between knees, until the pace picks up again. … The police say they have any number of ways to keep the 952 passengers on the train to Zimbabwe in their seats. But as the engine lumbers out of one station at 9:15 p.m., two shadows tumble from a window near the center of the train, then sprint into the inky bush. … This is the overnight train from Johannesburg to Messina, which twice a month hauls about 1,000 illegal migrants from South Africa's Lindela detention camp back to the Zimbabwe border—or tries to. What the policeman says is very nearly true: life in Zimbabwe these days is so hard, and sometimes so terrifying, that the passengers say death is almost preferable to returning to hunger, oppression, disease and hopelessness. … South African officials say that the country deports at least 2,500 Zimbabweans each month, on the train and in trucks. Summary*

NAGS HEAD, N.C.—Families who have passed this vacation spot down through the generations expect certain landmarks: Jennette's Pier, 64 years old and stretching 600 feet into the Atlantic; the Sea Foam Motel, all teal-colored kitsch; and Crabtree Court, a cluster of 50's-era cottages hard by the beach. All are gone now, or at least grievously damaged by the 30-foot waves that pounded communities up and down the Outer Banks when Hurricane Isabel roared through [this month]. Entire strips of beachfront are devastated, and though natives of these pinky-thin barrier islands insist things will soon return to normal—another year, another storm, they say— they also admit that this hurricane altered their landscape far more than any other storm in decades. What it means for the economy of the Outer Banks, so dependent on the tourist trade, and for its culture, so proudly defiant of the elements that regularly batter it, depends on whom you ask. Full story*