by Micah Tillman
Quoth Barr: "It is the duty of the federal government to secure our borders from criminals, terrorists and those seeking to take advantage of the American taxpayer."
Responds Ponnuru: With the letter surrounding that sentence, Barr is flouting "the standard libertarian line."
And he may be right.
But Barr is making a significant claim, nonetheless: Our government is not a rock, a tree, an animal, a machine, a system, or an idea. It's the kind of thing that can have duties.
Now, stay with that thought for a moment, Mr. Barr. The philosopher in me is intrigued.
I recently have begun to suspect, you see, that most people wouldn't know a government if it slapped them in the face. They'd only know they were being governmentally-assaulted if the beast wore a nametag. (And they wouldn't be able to pick it out of a police lineup later.)
So, ponder with me for a second: Why do we call what happens beneath the big dome in downtown DC, "government"? Why not call it a "Meeting of the Geriatric Society"? Or a "Commiseration of Crime Kings"?
Mr. Barr implies we can begin to think about what governments are by labeling them, "a thing with duties." They are moral beings, in other words. And since they have duties, they must be able to fulfill those duties. ("Ought" implies "can.") So governments are also agents.
But the Barrian theory that governments are moral agents wouldn't help you recognize a government in the wild. Most members of that species aren't governments. You and I (and everyone you meet today) are moral agents. But we aren't governments.
Barr's not the only failed zoologist around, however. None of the other Candidates are any better. Check their websites' "Issues" sections (McCain; Obama; Barr; Nader). Do you see a statement on the most fundamental political issue politicians and voters could ever consider?
And have you ever heard a reporter (genus: animalia; species: inquisitivus) ask them what it is exactly they want so badly to run?
I didn't think so.
So ponder with me (again): Would you ask a person who thought being a doctor meant painting landscapes to do Tiger Woods' surgery? (Dr. Nick at least knows what doctors are!) Or would you propose to someone if he thought "husband" was another word for "haircut"?
Why, then, has it been okay for so long to not require those who govern to know what government is? How could you expect them to know what the purpose of government is — or what the limitations on government should be — if you don't first expect them to know what governments are?
After all, the purpose of a hammer is not "curing cancer." The purpose of an ostrich is not "broadcasting radio signals." A thing's purpose depends on the kind of thing it is. Until you know the latter, you can't know the former.
And until you know the latter, you can't expect politicians to know it.
Robert Capozzi has tried to help by offering, "a peacekeeping, conflict-resolution institution for humans," as a potential definition for government. Michael Bindner followed with a second: "an authoritative institution which compels the use of private resources for collective action."
Whether those definitions need refinement or not, we now know at least two of our fellow citizens will have asked whether the Candidates have a clue about what they (the Candidates) are about to grab by the horns before they (Capozzi and Bindner) go near a voting booth.
But more than that, I think those potential definitions present the central aspects of what it means to be a government: groups and force. (After all, what are "institutions" but groups, and what are "conflict" and "compulsion" but force?)
And since government is by nature "local" — that is, governments are always governments of [some place or other] — I would argue that the definition of "government" is as follows:
"The de facto government of an area is the group with the most power in that area."
Where conservatives and progressives differ is on what kind of power is primary. Conservatives instinctively believe the power is physical (i.e., one-sided, coercive, negative). Progressives instinctively believe the power is economic (i.e., exchange-oriented, cooperative, positive).
Of course, you can use physical power to control money, and economic power to buy goons. So governments end up with both.
But the best explanation for the (stereo)typical conservative and progressive attitudes toward government (and therefore for conservative and progressive political theory in general) is that conservatives and progressives have different opinions about which type of power government wields primarily (or "ultimately").
And though many people find libertarians hard to locate on the usual "conservative-liberal" spectrum, I think libertarians share what I just called the "conservative" view of government: The de facto (i.e., "real") government is the group in a given area with the most physical power.
So tell us, dear Candidates: Where on the spectrum do you fall?
Is government's power first physical and then economic, or first economic and then physical? Your position on this issue determines your stances on all the rest.
Micah Tillman (micahtillman.com) is a lecturer in the School of Philosophy, and the curator of the WEeding Awards.