The Real Antidote to Big Government

Introduction

In what is developing as a multi-part series, I want to return to my development of a possible libertarian-distributist alliance. In my last post, I explored some of the ways in which distributists would benefit from a libertarian political program. Now it is time to explore what libertarians stand to gain from openness to distributist economic ideas.

Before continuing, I suppose I should note that the libertarians I am referring to are those in what I can only identify as the “mainstream” American libertarian movement. The ideas of cooperative or distributist or mutual economics are already held for the most part by those identifying as “left-libertarians” (whose prospects for alliance with Catholic distributists deserves its own separate article in the near future). Here I am focusing more on those libertarians who might say that they identify with free market capitalism, individualism, constitutionalism, small but still-existing government, local government, etc., and most especially those who root themselves in the tradition of the American founders. For I firmly believe that while the first thinkers to use the word “distributism” were 20th century Englishmen, the basic idea has always been present in the American tradition.

So what do libertarians stand to gain from the implementation of distributist ideas on the local level? Before answering, a fundamental assumption must be made, namely that the libertarians I address are pragmatists to the same healthy degree we ought to be. That is to say, they are seriously interested in reducing the size and scope of the government as Ron Paul proposes to do without compromising their core principles.

If that assumption holds good, then we can venture into the realm of theory in order to explain what distributist economics brings to the table for our common endeavor.

Before we can reach that point, however, we must have an explanation for why government grows, of the social and cultural influences that sustain its growth in the long run. Here I will not address the considerable role that the military-industrial complex plays in the growth of the state, but rather the other side of the “the warfare-welfare state.”

Anthropogenic Global Warming is the Fraud of the Century

No commentary. I just wanted to say it on my blog.

http://www.globalwarming.org/2009/06/24/epa-suppresses-internal-global-warming-study/

Middle Ground Between Storck and Sirico?

Introduction

Continuing my recent theme of libertarian pragmatism, I turn my attention this morning to a vivid critique of the libertarian-Catholic Acton Institute and it’s front man, Fr. Robert Sirico, written by Thomas Storck, an authority on distributism. There is much in this critique that is true, and I will not necessarily be questioning its accuracy. Rather my primary task will be to show the unexplored areas of thought and raise questions as to the viability of collaboration between what appear to be, at first glance, mutually exclusive movements.

There are two things that Thomas Storck argues that are unquestionably true: 1) That Fr. Sirico has profoundly misread John Paul II’s encyclical Centesiums Annus (and “misread” is a charitable interpretation), which in no uncertain terms condemns a radical capitalist ideology, keeping with his other encyclicals such as Laborem Exercens,  and in no way conflates sexual and economic libertinism, and 2) that the Papacy, historically and traditionally, has accepted a much larger role for the state in economic affairs.

In other words, the Acton libertarians are fundamentally wrong on a point of Catholic social teaching, and their errors, as Storck I think rightly points out, are rooted in the assumption that if libertarian philosophical assumptions collapse, “then logically Fr. Sirico’s entire enterprise will fall.” What I submit here is that it is not logically necessary that libertarianism as a whole has nothing important to say to Catholics because of its deeper philosophical errors. Furthermore, a distributist-libertarian alliance is an idea that is long overdue for serious consideration.

My intention is not to belittle philosophical disputes. But as something of a pragmatist myself, I have come to see that in many cases they serve to merely obstruct or obscure truths that are applicable to the social problem at hand, but which lie outside of the conflict of the contending philosophies. Additionally, not enough work is done to root out those areas of the contending philosophies that actually do overlap. Thus I submit two propositions: 1) that the philosophical dispute between libertarianism, CST, and distributism has obscured practical ways in which Catholics of different philosophical persuasions might collaborate, and 2) that the philosophical dispute itself does not need to end in the total destruction of one of the contending philosophies.

Pragmatic Libertarianism: When Two Wrongs Make a Right

Introduction

Brace yourselves, everyone. I am about to announce one of those major shifts in thinking that causes everyone I know to recoil in shock and horror, or, if they’ve been paying attention to what I say and write, simply shrug because they saw it coming. Most people do not change their thinking as drastically in a lifetime as many times as I do in a decade. I am hoping that I will eventually reach an equilibrium. I can’t help it that new facts require a reexamination of old logic.

For the last few years, I have been a pretty consistent advocate for a particular interpretation of Catholic social teaching. The central argument was that, contra all forms of libertarianism, the state had a right and a duty to intervene in the economy in particular, and social life in general, short of establishing a command economy, in order to promote the common good.

Before continuing, I should make clear that I still believe this ought to be the case in principle. Should the right conditions arise, I would be the first in line to support everything that follows from this political and moral premise. But I have come to understand that the conditions for this project do not exist. For the premise that a just socio-economic order will arise from the intervention of the state presupposes that the people who are in charge of the state are themselves just.

This presupposition, in the United States of America, in 2010 Anno Domini, is entirely false. On a whole host of issues, such as national security and the build-up of the police state under the last three presidents, imperialist foreign policy, complete subservience to the interests of Wall Street CEOs, the promotion of detestable anti-life, anti-family, and anti-Christian policies, the erosion of civil and political liberties, even the collapsing infrastructure in many parts of the country, to name only a few – the government of the United States, regardless of the party in power, deserves a vote of no confidence.

This is not a call for an armed rebellion. It is a plea to fellow Catholics who find themselves on the “left” or “right” of the spectrum to understand that none of the things we truly value as Catholics can be secured or implemented by the state as we know it, as it actually is. This essay will not review the many examples that could be employed to demonstrate the degeneracy of the state, but to outline the embryonic political philosophy that has emerged from my re-assessment of two trends of thought that I was once trained to reject and loathe: libertarianism and pragmatism.

As the title of this piece suggests, on their own, and as pure philosophies, I could not embrace either pragmatism or libertarianism. My heart will always belong to Aristotle and the social teaching of the Church, which I believe is absolutely and objectively the best political philosophy. But my mind understands that under the present conditions, these philosophies can only be implemented or embraced in part, while libertarianism and pragmatism must be reconsidered as the most viable instruments for laying the groundwork of a truly Christian society in America.

I can already imagine what some people are thinking: there he goes, thinking like an American. Whether or not actually being an American causes me, by some kind of unconscious cultural assimilation, to eventually think like an American in spite of my best efforts to think like a 19th century German for five years, or that the American situation such as it is can only logically conclude in an embrace of these uniquely American political and philosophical constructs, I cannot say.

What I do hope for is that, in the spirit of charity, my “Americanism” is not held too much against me as an irredeemable character flaw, and that the questions and arguments I raise here can be fruitfully discussed among friends with common values.

When the Saints Go Marching Out

The faithful on earth, through the communion of saints, should honor the blessed in heaven and pray to them, because they are worthy of honor and as friends of God will help the faithful on earth. — The Baltimore Catechism, 1941

I am trying these days, as best I can, to come to terms with the Church’s reform of the liturgy. But when one truly examines the differences between the “Tridentine” liturgy and the “Novus Ordo” liturgy, and furthermore, compares the “Novus Ordo” liturgy to what Protestant “reformers” (if that’s what you want to call violent iconoclasm) have tried to introduce into the liturgy for the past 500 years, it is hard to remain sympathetic.

On the surface the liturgical revisions of Vatican II were aimed at “increasing participation” of the congregation in the liturgy. I’ll leave aside my complaints about that motive for now. If this were indeed the goal, however, what I cannot understand are some of the other changes that were made, changes that apparently, to my untrained eye anyway, have nothing to do with participation. When, however, I reflect upon the some statements made by Annibale Bugnini, who was at the forefront of liturgical revisions during Vatican II, the changes do make sense. Bugnini is often quoted as having said:

“We must strip from our … Catholic liturgy everything which can be the shadow of a stumbling block for our separated brethren, that is, for the Protestants.”

The Earth Charter: The Replacement of God with Man

“The Christian… imagines the better future of the human species… in the image of heavenly joy… We, on the other hand, will have this heaven on earth.”  – Moses Hess, 19th century communist and mentor to Karl Marx.

It wasn’t too long ago that a co-blogger of mine suggested that the new environmentalism, especially what some might call the hysteria over climate change, was the new paganism. This accusation has been made frequently of the secular environmental movement. But this environmental movement is only one branch of what I am absolutely convinced is not only a “new paganism”, but a new religion of man. In previous posts I also wrote of a new religion centered around identity politics, and this too is but another branch.

Some of you may be familiar with “The Earth Charter.” Now, it isn’t necessarily that I believe everything on this list is an unworthy goal, or even most of it. But it deeply reflects a mindset and a world view in which God has been completely removed from the core, and is instead either relegated to the periphery or is entirely absent. When Thomas Jefferson wrote the Declaration of Independence, we at least had reference to a Creator, and his other writings made clear that the rights and liberties of the people were essentially worthless if they did not believe that they had come from God, and that their violation would incur his wrath.

Hildebrand on Schism, Heresy, Truth and Unity

I do not make this post to cling slavishly to what some might recognize as an authoritative opinion, but to call attention to a simple fact; that a surprisingly controversial perspective I put forward back in September of 2009 is shared by a man whom Pope Pius XII called a “Doctor of the Church for the 20th century” – Dietrich von Hildebrand. Thanks to my friend Mrs. Tracy on facebook I have been able to read one of Hildebrand’s rare and expensive books, The Devastated Vineyard. In the future I will have much more to say about this masterful defense of Church Tradition and the Tridentine liturgy against the errors, dangers, and stupidities of various “progressive” schools of thought.

For now, however, I want to revisit a post I made for The American Catholic back in 2009 about a possible counter-reform of the liturgy, and the typically uncharitable debate that unfolded when some friends of ours dropped by to chat. In that post, I said the following:

“Though it would sadden me, I would prefer that a Catholic dissatisfied with the Church would simply find one that better suited his spiritual needs than to remain within the Church and try to ruin it for those who love it as it is.”

I repeated the point many times – I was not, am not, suggesting that anyone with any problem whatsoever leave the Church, which is a very general thing, but rather that a person who has reduced their alternatives to either changing the Church in a way that is clearly harmful, or leaving the Church, ought to choose the latter. That is something very specific. Carefully explained, I am confident in a child’s ability to understand the distinction between these two positions.

Art and the Marketplace

My recent post on the role that music played in my conversion from atheistic communism to traditional Catholicism, with few stops along the way, has prompted some criticism. In that post, I questioned and criticized the argument of Ludwig von Mises regarding the effects of ‘capitalism’ upon culture. This in turn sparked a debate over the role that markets have played in developing truly great art.

So it was suggested to me that I listen to a lecture by Paul Cantor of the Ludwig von Mises Institute, “The Economics of Classical Music: Patronage vs. the Market”, presumably, so that I may see the benefits of commerce on music.  In this post I will explain what I think the Austrian attitude towards commerce and culture is,  why it fails (in Cantor’s case, in a rather ironic fashion) to translate into convincing arguments, and on which points  I actually do agree with them.

Why I Believe in Conspiracy Theories

Well, I’m certain that this will win me few friends among those who wish to remain “respectable”, a part of mainstream consensus. You would be wrong if you assumed that I didn’t know how much comfort it can bring to identify with mainstream consensus. It brings about as much comfort as some people derive from believing in conspiracy theories, an addiction to a certain feeling. But not everyone makes the choices they do, on either side, for the comfort of a feeling. Personality types are distributed across all different kinds of positions on all different kinds of issues – there are feelers and thinkers to be found on any side of any question (to be clear: everyone feels and thinks. And everyone does one more than the other)

How God Saved My Soul Through Music

I haven’t talked extensively about why I rejected atheistic communism and made my way back to Catholicism. There were a number of reasons; being shown the logical and moral bankruptcy of materialism, the corruption I personally witnessed in the movement, the fact that I could never bring myself to really embrace any of the tenants of the cultural agenda, and so on. The idea of fighting for anything in a universe that did not, and could not care about the outcome of human events could no longer captivate me. I suppose some people are able to convince themselves of the possibility, even the certainty, of “goodness” in a reality that owes nothing to consciousness and will; to me, such a belief, no matter how comforting, would be a lie. And I cannot live a lie.

These arguments were the building blocks of my rejection of materialism, but there was a mortar running through them, one that appears to be wholly subjective, but is not upon further inspection. That binding agent was music. And not any music, but the greatest music ever written, the religious music of Western civilization, of the Catholic Church. No, I don’t mean the uninspired hymns that resound throughout Novus Ordo auditoriums every Sunday, but the music of the 16th-18th centuries, and some beyond (such as the Vespers I am listening to as I write, by Rachmaninoff, which words cannot describe).