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The Anti-Statist's Chicken and Egg Problem Which
came first, the growth of the state or the erosion of civil society? And
more to the point, how do we reverse this trend? Different answers have
been offered, but many who’ve studied the problem seem to agree that
the two phenomena go hand in hand. The libertarian-conservative
sociologist Robert Nisbet argued in his The
Quest for Community
that the growth of the central state over the last three centuries
has crowded out the usefulness of decentralized voluntary institutions
like churches, guilds, neighborhoods and so forth. As the tasks of these
intermediate institutions were usurped by the state, they became less
and less effective as buffers between the individual and the naked power
of the sovereign. Whichever
began first (and the answer is probably complex), it’s easy to see how
these two trends can be mutually reinforcing. As the state grows and
takes on ever more tasks, people naturally begin to see it as the
all-purpose problem-solver (despite the unintended consequences of so
many of its “solutions”). Rather than thinking of politics as a last
resort, more and more people see it as the natural vehicle for
implementing their pet agenda. This further weakens intermediate
associations which, in turn, makes the state seem like the only
institution in society that can get things done. The
problem is further compounded by the fact that people, once in a certain
condition, will naturally tend to prefer that condition to one of
radical change. As Anthony de Jasay points out in his book The
State, the political
environment you find yourself in will tend to narrow your horizon of
available options: “When
social scientists say that they know that Smith prefers tea to coffee
because he just said so, or because he has revealed his preference by
taking tea when he could have taken coffee, they deal in objects which
are presumed to be both familiar and accessible to Smith. When Smith is
talking about his preferences for things he can at best know from
hearsay, difficulties begin to arise. They are compounded when he could
not possibly translate his avowed preference into a practical act of
choice, because some alternatives are simply not feasible. People who
live in states have as a rule never experienced the state of nature and vice
versa, and have no practical possibility of moving from the one to
the other.” The
more the state takes over vital social functions, the more likely we are
to become used to the situation. It becomes natural because we don’t
know anything else. We can see this trend at work in the creeping
statism of the 20th century. The Old
Right of the interwar
years was militantly committed to rolling back the New Deal. Then the
neoconservatives of the ‘70s and ‘80s were willing to settle for
trimming the edges of LBJ’s Great Society. Today, virtually no
prominent conservative advocates radical cuts in the size and scope of
the federal government. Our vision has become restricted to what seems
“possible.” This
might lead to severe pessimism about the prospects of rolling back the
encroachments of the state. Libertarians have existed as an organized
political force for about 30 years and have yet to succeed in seriously
reducing any aspect of
government. Small victories seem to be vitiated by the legitimacy
granted to the status quo by those who desire to work within the system.
The Libertarian movement seems destined to continuously moderating its
claims in order to seem respectable. I
think the insights of Nisbet, de Jasay and others help to show why the
political model of change is ultimately doomed to failure. As long as
people are convinced that the state is the only game in town, no one
will be able to convince them to vote for its abolition. They need to be
shown how important things can get done in society without
“resorting to politics,” as de Jasay puts it elsewhere. If
one of the problems of statism is that it suffocates voluntary,
decentralized intermediate institutions, then part of the anti-statist’s
task is to help revive and re-create a rich private sector. Americans
are practical folk; a few people may be convinced by libertarian theory
or by the study of economics, but most people will say: “Show me how
it can work. Show me how non-coercive institutions can deliver the
goods.” It won’t do just to show how all government functions could theoretically
be performed voluntarily. To be convinced, people will need to see
it in action. People
all across the political spectrum have come to see the importance of
so-called alternative institutions as a means of peaceably and
voluntarily realizing their social and political goals. From the religious
right to the anarchist left,
people are realizing the futility of trying to grab hold of the
machinery of the state to further their vision of the good society. The
more widespread the “dropping out” from the use of political methods
becomes, the closer libertarians are to their goal of a free society.
Alternative schools, alternative economic institutions, alternative
social service providers can all help to drain the blood from the
vampire sucking at our collective neck. The
best part is, these kinds of endeavors carry their own rewards beyond
just contributing to the demise of statism. People don’t homeschool
their kids to fight the state (at least not primarily); they do it to
give their kids the best education possible. Working at a soup kitchen
or starting a business that provides private security are intrinsically
rewarding activities (and legal for the most part!). Philosophers and
social scientists have pointed out that involvement in clubs, fraternal
orders, churches, and other voluntary associations makes up a large part
of a satisfying human life. We should be angry that the state has been
taking this away from us! The
“father of conservatism” Edmund Burke (who
was actually closer to a
modern-day libertarian) spoke of the attachments to the “little
platoons” of life that help define who we are. But it was the
philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre (no libertarian, but definitely skeptical
of the value of the modern nation-state) who pointed out how withdrawing
our moral consent can help bring down the pretensions of a bloated
state. After discussing the moral chaos of modern life in his book After
Virtue, he concludes
with a vision to sustain us through what may be a new dark ages: “A
crucial turning point in that earlier history [of the demise of the
Roman Empire] occurred when men and women of good will turned aside the
task of shoring up the Roman imperium
and ceased to identify the continuation of civility and moral community
with the maintenance of that imperium.
What they set themselves to achieve instead—often not fully
recognizing what they were doing—was the construction of new forms of
community within which the moral life could be sustained so that
morality and civility might survive the coming age of barbarism and
darkness.” The variety of private endeavors people can create is virtually unlimited. A flourishing civic life—the web of voluntary institutions and associations, fraternal organizations, businesses, churches, sporting teams, hunting lodges, chess clubs, private educational institutions and so on—provide not only an integral part of a fulfilling life, but the best weapon in the battle against an omnivorous state. Such a flourishing private life will show people how they can get along without the state and choose to do things for themselves, not as rugged individualists, but as social animals cooperating peacefully rather than through the use of force. Lee McCracken lives in the San Francisco Bay area and works in publishing. He has also written for anti-state.com. |