Why it is your duty to stop supporting the government → ethics

In discussion with a reader (liberally edited for clarity), I try to find the magic flip-switch to cut the power to atrocity, and I introduce “The gospel according to The Picket Line:”

: Now, about those war crimes…

A Reader: Where did you get this Truman quote? “The denial of reality started early: President Truman, when he announced the bombing, called the city of Hiroshima ‘a military base’ that was chosen ‘because we wished in this first attack to avoid, insofar as possible, the killing of civilians.’ ”

: The quote is from his (I think) address to the nation about the bombing. I think that was the second of his public announcements about it. You can Google for it.

Reader: I liked your take on it. As I see it, the issue for people placed in Eichmann’s position is what do you do when your society, (which as your basic frame of reference for morality, norms, etc.) suddenly goes off its rocker? You really can’t protest, because you know where that’ll get you, Jew-lover, so you either play the game or you attempt to drop out of society completely. I think that the latter is very difficult for most to actualize. So the next best thing to do is find ways to fit the blinders.

: Eichmann isn’t a great example of what you’re talking about, I think, because he was so intimately involved in the logistics of the Holocaust that it’s hard to imagine he was anywhere near as passive or unenthused as he tries to represent.

Reader: Granted, not the best example.

: A better case might be the thousands of people who were also necessary to the process but at lower levels. Auschwitz was killing, what, 9,000 people a day or something? It takes a lot of people to do that.

Reader: Yep.

: And then, for the purposes of The Picket Line, there are the taxpayers, who were also essential to the process (assuming the Nazis didn’t just loot other countries to meet their revenue needs)… though I’m being far too bold to assume that I’d be courageous enough to go up against the Gestapo. You only get to wish you woulda unless you actually did.

Reader: Indeed. Another way of looking at it is that even though you find serious flaws with our government, at least you live in a country where you are offered a third option: To vent.

: Well, even in Nazi-occupied Europe people did resist, both actively and passively.

Reader: Schindler & the like, you mean?

: Yeah. There are lots of examples of people who put spanners in the works. And there are some who joined resistance movements, both violent and nonviolent, inside occupied territories. Denmark & France come to mind.

Reader: Well that’s Denmark & France — more to be expected. I mean, it’s not surprising to find resistance in occupied territories.

: But it’s not as though the Gestapo wasn’t just as mean there. Probably worse. So even when it gets as bad as it gets, there’s still the third path.

Reader: Sure… though at a much greater price.

: Well, Eichmann could have taken an honorable coward’s path and just have become progressively more inept until he was replaced or forced into retirement or some such. Chances are, he just plain liked his job. “Good pay, prominent position, nice uniform, gets you invited to good parties, you get to travel all over the Reich. Hate to give that up. I mean, they’d just replace me with someone else and nothing would really change anyway, right?”

Reader: Exactly.

: So how do people become essential participants in horrible, premeditated, deliberate, conscious cruelties like Auschwitz and Hiroshima without having the intention of being horrible or cruel, and how can this weird intellectual bypass be interrupted on an individual scale or on a larger scale? And when you’re finished with that one maybe you can help me decide whether God could create a rock so heavy that even He could not lift it.

Reader: You want to know how come Auschwitz and how come Hiroshima? How about this: Auschwitz was the end result of a botched job of patching Europe back together and coming up with a stable League of Nations after World War One, and Hiroshima came from the desire to win a war we didn’t start.

: Well, those are summaries of explanations of the way certain historical events played out, but I don’t think they have the same form as the answer to the question I’m trying to ask would have. There are a lot of paths that could have led from Versailles. One of them led to Auschwitz. I’m more interested in the way a person can voluntarily be an essential or at least very useful part of something awful and at the same time deny either choice or responsibility or both. Because it seems like this denial is necessary for participation, except for people who really are deliberately being assholes either mistakenly or out of malice, whom I’d like to think are in the minority.

Reader: Are you asking what’s hardwired in man, a seemingly intelligent species, that he’s capable of such wanton disregard for the ethical treatment of his fellow man when under great duress?

: Even when not under particularly great duress.

Reader: How about because deep down inside we like to believe we’re nice folk and that we’re on the good team?

: But actually being nice folk and fighting for the good team is what… too hard? too inconvenient? an opportunity that’s only available to the lucky? So we play make-believe as a booby prize?

Reader: I believe that most folk cannot distance themselves enough from their society to evaluate it objectively. Their society is “the good team.” Any holes that exist can easily be glossed over. (It beats trying to address that everything that you know is a lie — take the red pill, dude.) And there are folks who simply buy the party line: “Yes, I honestly believe that the world would be a better place without all them damn Jews. They’re not even human anyway.” Humanity sucks.

: Sure, but I’m thinking more of folks like the founder of the company I used to work for, who pulled that “our software will save innocent civilians by making war more informationish” stuff out of his justification bag, and then probably clapped his hands, spun around and believed it twice as hard for having said it to a reporter.

Reader: It’s because he doesn’t read The Picket Line.

: If it’s pointed out to him that he turns out to be wrong about that (and I’ve emailed him, but he doesn’t reply so I don’t know if he even reads ’em), he’ll probably just reach into his bag for another justification. And no amount of showing “well, actually that’s not factually correct” will help, because the justifications will just start getting less and less available to factual refutation until finally they’re like White House press conferences — sounding vaguely fact-like in their format but having no factual content at all. And yet, if you put ’em on the stand at a war crimes trial they’ll say “how could I have known — at the time everybody sincerely believed [insert nonsense here].”

Reader: It’s because he thinks he’s playing for the good guys. And the good guys report that smart bombs mean fewer civilian casualties. And he finds no need to further investigate the issue. I think you know the answer to the question you’re asking: It just sucks too much to accept an unpleasant reality when a pleasant orthodox fantasy is at your disposal.

: Doesn’t it suck worse to be suffering from hallucinations and being unable to match your actions and perceptions with the world around you?

Reader: No… I say the former sucks more. But good luck trying to convince people otherwise.

: If I don’t want to get a horrible toothache and have my teeth drilled, I can brush my teeth regularly or I can tell myself “my teeth are clean because there are magic gnomes who live in my mashed potatoes and clean my teeth while I’m sleeping.” Which one is more likely to fulfill my wants?

Reader: You’re assuming that people’s wants aren’t being met.

: Yeah — I think people want the U.S. to be a democracy, for instance. Well, if you want that, you’ll want to push your government toward democratic behavior. Or you can just say “the United States is the freest nation on earth” and stay in make-believe land.

Reader: People think they do live in a democracy, and a free-market economy for that matter.

: Do they want to live in a democracy do you think, or do they want to be able to say they live in a democracy? Maybe just the latter, eh?

Reader: The latter. The former takes too much effort. Low voter turnout isn’t just a reflection of voter dissatisfaction. It’s also because most people just don’t give a damn as long as their beer & gas are cheap.

: Would just saying “we have the cheapest beer and gas in the world” be good enough, or would the beer and gas actually have to be inexpensive?

Reader: I think in this case reality needs to match fantasy for it to work.

: So there are some wants at least that can’t be deflected into a fantasy world. How do we get the desire to be good or not to be a participant in mass murder into that category?

Reader: I think people have a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy about the bad stuff the government does with their money. “But what happens when they’re told?” you ask, and I respond, “they write it off as the ranting of a sissy liberal.”

: Well, if inexpensive gas matters, and just being able to say “this gas is inexpensive” without it actually being true isn’t good enough, then the way you respond to that is to actually investigate and find out what the price of gas is. You don’t wait for some activist to point it out to you.

Reader: But gas is cheap. That takes very little research to verify.

: Neither does “I am/am not acting like an asshole.”

Reader: I’ll bite — how does one know if one is acting like an asshole?

: “Hey, why don’t I drop my flavorless bubblegum here on the sidewalk? Woah, that would make me an asshole and I don’t want to be an asshole, ergo I won’t do it.” A psychopath, on the other hand, says “I will throw my gum on the sidewalk. This will make me an asshole. Hurray for that.” I’m worried about the third class of people who say, “I will throw my gum on the sidewalk. I don’t want to be an asshole. My throwing the gum on the sidewalk doesn’t make me an asshole because… uh, it never happened… or, well, it slipped out of my fingers… or, uh, well, there’s a lot of gum already on the sidewalk so one more piece won’t matter… or, well, nobody saw me do it, so…”

Reader: A person acting like an asshole and a nation acting like an asshole are two entirely different things. If the average Joe has little to no interest in politics, and so doesn’t know any better, why would he think that his country is acting inappropriately? Gas, after all, is cheap.

: I dunno; I think it starts at the individual level. If you don’t have respect for the truth or reality vis-a-vis your own actions and how you evaluate them, you’re going to be willing to fall for a well-worded and appealing fantasy description of your nation’s actions too.

Reader: I think we’re starting to talk past each other. Are you basically saying that one has to be immoral (or an asshole, to use the vernacular) to believe in one’s country?

: That’s not what I meant. What I’m saying is that if you use bad-faith fantasy evasions to justify your own behavioral deviations from your ideals, you will be more willing to accept the same sort of bad faith reasoning if it is applied to the actions of your country. If your country is doing something you can be proud of and you’re proud of it, what’s there to complain about? But if your country is doing something you’d be ashamed of if you admitted it was happening, and so you deny that it’s happening so you can continue to say you’re proud of it, that sucks.

Reader: What’s a “bad-faith fantasy evasion?”

: Something like the gum-thrower saying “well, there’s a lot of gum down there” or “my gum is particularly brightly-colored so people will see it and be able to step around it” or “it just slipped out of my fingers” or “nobody saw me do it.”

Reader: Ah. Well what if you’re someone who would be ashamed of your country if you knew the truth, but you just aren’t very politically aware?

: Well, there’s not being aware and then there’s sticking your fingers in your ears and yelling “LA LA LA LA I CAN’T HEAR YOU LA LA LA LA.”

Reader: I honestly believe that a lot of folk simply are not all that politically savvy. They buy what the talking heads say because the American history classes taught them everything they need to know to be proud of their country and that’s enough for them.

: What sort of pride in your country is it if it’s based on not looking too closely? “Son, I’m very proud of the way you played tonight.” “But you weren’t even at the game, Dad!” “Yes, but I’m sure you did very well.”

Reader: Are you searching for some magic flip-switch?

: Yep. I’m sure it’s around here somewhere. Where did I put the magic flip-switch?

Reader: It just doesn’t seem likely to me. Barring some sort of major disaster, nothing’s likely to cut through the haze on a national level. On a person by person basis, maybe, sure.

: So I shouldn’t lose sleep over not having found the magic switch, is what you’re saying? I think you’re right — it has to be person-by-person. You apply ethical standards to yourself first — not a particular set of Thou Shalt Not morals, but just an agreement with yourself that if you catch yourself hiding behind some bad faith baloney you’ll stop and confront yourself honestly about it. Then you start expecting the same from people around you. If enough people see the value in this, suddenly when a politician goes “blah blah blah” it won’t work anymore. I’m no saint, but every day I try to be a little more honest with myself and I think that’s valuable.

Reader: In general, I like to believe that I live that kind of life. Granted, I own an SUV and I pay taxes that support a foreign policy agenda I disagree with.

: Ask yourself why you own an SUV and why you pay taxes, and throw out all of the bullshit reasons that only sound good because you know they’d work on the talk shows. Then you’ll either find out that sure enough you’ve got a set of values that don’t conflict with taxpaying and SUV-owning or you’ll find out that you’re doing those things against your own best interests.

Reader: Perhaps. I believe that there are a lot of good folk out there whose worst crime is not flexing their critical thought muscle. There are plenty of good people who simply don’t do the research. That doesn’t make them bad people.

: Nobody’s omniscient. That’d be a ridiculous standard. But there’s ignorance, and then there’s “willful ignorance” which is one of those bad faith things, one of the easiest and worst. It played big at Nuremberg. “Why, I had no idea all those Jews were being butchered!” “800,000 of them disappeared from the region you administered. Did you ask where they went?” “Didn’t occur to me.” “Page 1234 of Mein Kampf talks about what Hitler planned to do to the Jews. Did you read it?” “Well, everybody read it, but…”

Reader: Again, I think cheap beer & gas is the problem. If the problems were in our backyard, matters would be addressed, methinks.

: Sure, people might start getting up in arms if the economy takes another bad tumble, or Iraq gets much worse, or inflation goes crazy or whatever. But what good is something like that? If people just trade their unthinking “everything is great” blinders for another set of blinders, we’re no more likely to be better than worse off in the aftermath of their agitation.

Reader: Yep. They’ll be complacent again once the dust settles.

: You gotta start with the individual, again. “Hey you, got any idea of what a good person is? Wanna be a good person? Okay, first thing you gotta do is keep an eye on yourself and see if you’re acting like a good person or an asshole. When you start acting like an asshole, stop, then back up and be straight with yourself about where you went wrong. Lather, rinse, repeat.” The gospel according to The Picket Line. Thank you, and please tip the folks who brought the loaves and fishes.


In the opening paragraph of Andrew Oldenquist’s introduction to Readings in Moral Philosophy he tries to explain the book’s focus. Describing moral philosophy, Oldenquist says:

It is distinct from moralizing, for moralizing is neither philosophical, nor is it a study of morality, but rather one way of participating in morality. Anthropologists and sociologists sometimes study morality. The former try to discover what other societies think about moral matters, and the latter investigate the moral beliefs of various groups within our society and perhaps try to discover what makes groups of people believe what they do. The philosophical study of morality is both more general and more critical than this… a great many of the problems that interest the moral philosopher are logical problems… the consistency or inconsistency of various moral opinions and principles; in the ways in which good and bad reasoning enter into moral deliberation… in the meaning of moral statements; and in the extent to which some moral opinions depend on more basic ones… [which] has led moral philosophers to look for ultimate moral principles…. [And] the attempt to justify, or in some way to make reasonable, ultimate moral principles…

All of this is reasonable, but when I read this it seemed to me that there was something missing both in what Oldenquist includes and in what he excludes from his focus. There’s an important bridge between moral theory and moral practice. I’m not sure what you would call it, but I’m sure it merits study.

I think philosophers shy away from thinking about this because they think of it as secondary to ethical theory. Once you’ve figured out the Ultimate Moral Principles and have used these to deduce the proper moral behavior, everything then will fall into place on its own. The difficult part is to do this figuring out and deducing.

I’m not so sure. It seems to me that the problem most people have is not that they’ve gotten lost on the way to determining Ultimate Moral Principles and have chosen the wrong ones (or have been unable to choose), but that in applying whatever makeshift moral principles they’ve adopted, they’re being flummoxed by mental biases, various forms of deliberate deception, and such — all of which they’re helpless against because they have not learned to identify and defend against them.

The philosophy (art? technology?) of ethical development would consist of studying the obstacles to living ethically — independently of the details of the Ultimate Moral Principles the moral philosophers discover. Assuming you have some moral principles (though perhaps rudimentary, naïve, and in need of refinement), how do you avoid the many tricks and traps that lead you to make unethical decisions in spite of these principles?

In the Christian world, there’s no shortage of literature on this theme, though instead of “obstacles to living ethically” it’s “temptations to sin.” Is there a secular equivalent? If so, what’s it called? If not, why not?

It seems like the kind of thing that could (and ought to) be taught in the schools. Most of the controversy that has led to the removal of any useful moral instruction from public schools (that is, instruction that rises above “don’t have sex and don’t do drugs”) comes from worries that the schools will start favoring some varieties of Ultimate Moral Principles over others. But a class that teaches the skill of not being a hypocrite seems like it could safely be compatible with just about any set of these Principles.


I finished off Andrew Oldenquist’s ethics reader Readings in Moral Philosophy. It’s a good collection of many of the baseline arguments that you need to be familiar with in order to understand what people are arguing about when they argue ethical philosophy. It’s got your Plato, your Aristotle, your Hume, Kant, and Mill. Along with this are a set of sermons by Joseph Butler that I wasn’t at all familiar with, and a handful of more-modern bits: G.E. Moore, A.J. Ayer, and Stephen Toulmin.

The excerpts from Plato’s Republic were the liveliest translation I’ve read (Benjamin Jowett’s from ), and I’m happy to report the whole thing is on-line, thanks to The Internet Classics Archive.

One of the things I was keeping an eye out for while I was reading was for indications of the shift from ethical philosophy being seen as a practical pursuit — learning with the goal of becoming a better person — to ethical philosophy being seen as an abstract pursuit of knowledge about what ethical questions mean and how they might be consistently answered.

I didn’t find much of note here, except two quotes that might as well mark either endpoint of this shift. First, Aristotle:

Since the branch of philosophy on which we are at present engaged differs from the others in not being a subject of merely intellectual interest — I mean we are not concerned to know what goodness essentially is, but how we are to become good men, for this alone gives the study its practical value — we must apply our minds to the solution of the problems of conduct.

And second, Stephen Edelston Toulmin:

To show that you ought to choose certain actions is one thing: to make you want to do what you ought to do is another, and not a philosopher’s task.

Not precisely on-point, but characteristic of the spirit of recent ethical philosophy, which seems to want to defer all of the ethical action until all of the loose ends have been tied up in ethical theory.

Which is a shame, because it seems to me that this would be an especially fruitful time to develop a practical discipline of ethics. While some of the great human weaknesses and temptations have been known and discussed for ages, we have never had such precise investigation of ethical blind spots and illusions as we have today.

Let me give an example of what I mean. The illustration below is an optical illusion. The parallelograms marked “A” and “B” are the exact same color, although one looks like a “light” parallelogram and one looks like a “dark” parallelogram.

In this optical illusion, the parallelograms marked “A” and “B” are the exact same color, although one looks like a “light” parallelogram and one looks like a “dark” parallelogram.

The illustration plays with our expectations about shadows and light and such to fool us. Parts of the illustration that aren’t directly part of the comparison between the two parallelograms, that aren’t really relevant to the decision of whether or not they are of the same color, influence our perception. Here’s an illustration that makes it clearer, if you don’t believe me that the parallelograms are the same color:

This illustration exposes the optical illusion by coloring in the space between the parallelograms marked “A” and “B” with a field of color that is the same color as both of those parallelograms.

We have similar illusions that confuse our sense of right and wrong. Compare the optical illusion above to the ethical illusion I mentioned :

In the 1970s, the Nobel Prize-winning economist Thomas Schelling used to put some questions to his students at Harvard when he wanted to show how people’s ethical preferences on public policy can be turned around. Suppose, he said, that you were designing a tax code and wanted to provide a credit — a rebate, in effect — for couples with children. (I’m simplifying a bit.) In a progressive tax system such as ours, we try to ease the burden on the less well off, so it might make sense to adjust the child credit accordingly. Would it be fair, do you think, to give poor parents a bigger credit than rich parents? Schelling’s students were inclined to think so. If the credit was going to vary with income, it seemed fair to award struggling families the bigger tax break. It would certainly be unfair, they agreed, for richer families to get a bigger one.

Then Schelling asked his students to think about things in a different way. Instead of giving families with children a credit, you’d impose a surcharge on couples with no children. Now then: Would it be fair to make the childless rich pay a bigger surcharge than the childless poor? Schelling’s students thought so.

But — hang on a sec — a bonus for those who have a child amounts to a penalty for those who don’t have one. (Saying that those with children should be taxed less than the childless is another way of saying that the childless should be taxed more than those with children.) So when poor parents receive a smaller credit than rich ones, that is, in effect, the same as the childless poor paying a smaller surcharge than the childless rich. To many, the first deal sounds unfair and the second sounds fair — but they’re the very same tax scheme.

Here’s another follow-up illustration for the skeptical. Note that plan #1 and plan #2 have exactly the same results (everybody pays the same amount of tax, and the government gets the same amount of revenue). In plan #1, the poor family with kids gets a bigger tax credit than the rich family with kids (that sounds fair); in plan #2 the rich family is hit with a smaller penalty for childlessness than the poor family is (that’s unfair!):

Plan #1 (the “fair” plan)
householdincometaxcredittotal owed
Government ends up with:$235
Poor family with kids $500$50−$40$10
Poor family without kids $500$50−$0$50
Rich family with kids $1000$100−$25$75
Rich family without kids $1000$100−$0$100

Plan #2 (the “unfair” plan)
householdincometaxsurchargetotal owed
Government ends up with:$235
Poor family with kids $500$10+$0$10
Poor family without kids $500$10+$40$50
Rich family with kids $1000$75+$0$75
Rich family without kids $1000$75+$25$100

Here again, two outcomes that are identical in the real world are perceived as starkly different — one is fair, the other unfair — based not on any characteristic of the outcomes themselves but only on expectations and descriptions that, in a similar way to the green cylinder in the optical illusion, overshadow the facts of the case. The “government” in this example can transform an “unfair” tax system into a “fair” one, or vice versa, just by describing it differently.

The science of manipulating people by identifying and then exploiting these conceptual flaws (which crop up not only in optical and ethical illusions, but in all sorts of assessments of what is really going on around us and what is in our best interests) has been running far ahead of any efforts to teach people any sort of self-defense. I don’t see why we shouldn’t start trying to catch up.


“It is quite likely that, if we knew more about animal bodies, we could deduce all their movements from the laws of chemistry and physics. It is already fairly easy to see how chemistry reduces to physics, i.e. how the differences between different chemical elements can be accounted for by differences of physical structure…. We only know in part how to reduce physiology to chemistry, but we know enough to make it likely that the reduction is possible.”

Thusly Bertrand Russell summarized scientific reductionist thinking about the natural world. With some caveats, it is a ruling scientific worldview, or at least it seems so to a fellow like me who feels just smart enough to pick up a Scientific American in the waiting room and not get too confused.

There are nested levels of abstraction in talking about the physical world — not independent and rival explanations, but each level dependent on and building on the level below. In principle, everything you’re trying to investigate at the level you’re looking at (say, the liver), should be describable in terms of elements of the level below, as far down as you want to go (say, physics).

The terms we use at the higher levels are shorthand descriptions of complex varieties or categories of arrangements at the next level down, and everything we describe at the higher layers can — in principle — be described without any loss of information solely in terms of elements of the layers beneath. (The reverse, though, is not true: two biologically indistinguishable enzymes may be subtly different chemically; two chemically indistinguishable molecules may be subtly different physically, and so forth.)

Each higher level of explanation and abstraction provides a new categorization and labeling scheme for the behavior of aggregates of elements of the level below it — but it does not properly add any new elements that are in principle irreducible (if such an element is not in fact reducible, reducing it becomes a priority, and the scientists aren’t happy until they’ve come up with something — so sure are they that something will indeed turn up).

It occurred to me at some point that those political theorists whose points of view I most respect take the same approach to political philosophy: The question of what political arrangements are appropriate in a society of individuals will in all cases — in principle anyway — be reducible to a question of the appropriate ethical actions of those individuals.

Political philosophy is still important and distinct from ethical philosophy for the same reason that biologists and chemists don’t just resign their posts and become physicists — it’s impractical to work on big-stuff problems with small-stuff abstractions. You need some shorthand. And certain patterns and regularities are only visible at a larger scale and among the larger abstractions themselves.

But on the other hand, you need to respect the nature of what you’re doing and the nested structure of the layers you’re working with. One way to test your theories at one level is to see if they result in any contradictions at a lower level. If your theories in chemistry require some electrons to be positively charged, you either screwed up somewhere or you need to develop a variety of physics in which positively-charged electrons aren’t absurd. (By contrast, if new developments in physics require higher layers to accommodate, say, the weirdness of relativity and quantum mechanics, accommodate them they must! It is them, and not physics, that must give way.)

Similarly, if your political theories require some individuals to behave unethically, you need to go back to the drawing board. Liberal political theorists (not in the liberal/conservative editorial page sense, but the old-school political philosophy sense) seem to evaluate political systems at the level of political or societal organization only (is there representation? is there the rule of law? are decisions made democratically?) while libertarian/anarchist political theorists are much more likely to train their microscopes on the realm of personal ethics (e.g. does any element of this political theory require anyone to violate the non-aggression principle?)

Liberal political theorists will attempt to patch over the parts of their theories that require individuals to behave in ways that may seem unethical by saying that in such-and-such a case the otherwise unethical behavior is ethical. But the criteria that make those cases “such-and-such” are often found to be political-level criteria, not ethical-level criteria — either new political-level descriptions that are irreducible to ethical-level descriptions, or ones that if they are reduced to ethical-level descriptions no longer seem to justify the “such-and-suchness.”

In physical reductionism, the relationship between the levels has a direction. By this I mean, for instance, that we might say that some element of fluid dynamics describes the behavior of a large set of molecules in some circumstance. Or we might say that in some circumstance, these molecules will behave in a manner described by fluid dynamics. But we wouldn’t say that fluid dynamics causes molecules to behave in a certain way, or that they behave in that way in order to comply with the rules of fluid dynamics. The causation is all in the other direction. Fluid dynamics says what it says as a result of attempting to describe the behavior of the underlying physical system.

Which is what makes the liberal political theories and their justifications difficult for me to swallow. They seem to have this backwards. According to them, some behavior at the ethical level switches from unethical to ethical based on the description it is given at the political level, rather than its description at the political level being based on an analysis of it at the ethical level. Whereas it seems to me that whether a particular action is ethical or not should not depend on what political system you’re operating under or what role the people involved play in that system; rather, whether the system is reasonable and coherent should depend on whether the individuals enacting their roles in that system behave ethically in so doing.

If a theory told you that water freezes below 32° except on Tuesdays when it freezes below 40°, you’d be right to be skeptical. If your experiments showed that ice was just as liquid at 40° on Tuesdays as any other day, you wouldn’t be likely to accept as an explanation that, according to the accepted theory, on Tuesdays liquid water that is colder than 40° is considered to be frozen regardless of its actual behavior. You’d consider this a flaw in the theory, not a flaw in the water.

This, anyway, is how my thoughts have wandered along this path. I think there must be a clearer way of explaining it than this. It seems really simple to me until I try to articulate it, and then it starts to fray.

For instance, what about these assertions:

  • it’s unethical to confine someone against their will, but it’s okay if you’re a prison guard and they’re your prisoner
  • it’s unethical to strike someone against their will, but it’s okay if you’re a boxer and they’re your opponent

Are these really from two distinct classes of assertion? Do they really belong on different levels? The second one seems to me to be close to a straightforward ethical assertion, but the first one seems to me to be one of those problematic political assertions that doesn’t disassemble properly. Each one requires a scaffolding of assumptions about how people play roles in socially-defined settings.

Of course, you can see that there’s a variety of mutual consent in the second example and not in the first (a boxer doesn’t consent to be struck, exactly — he avoids it strenuously — but he certainly consents to risk being unsuccessful in avoiding it). But how hard would it be for a liberal political theorist to come up with some similar-sounding quasi-ethical explanation for the first (the prisoner doesn’t consent to be confined, but he consented to living in a community where such confinement is the price one pays for certain behavior). And then how can I qualitatively distinguish the two explanations?

Also, just how good is my analogy between physical reductionism and ethical reductionism? In reality, we didn’t start with physics and build chemistry on top of it, but something much more like the reverse: people observed chemical behavior, found regularities in it, designed theories, and then the physicists tried to model the underlying behavior that might produce these regularities and satisfy these theories. Nowadays the theoretical model is, I think, much as I described it, but its origin is more complicated and this has consequences for my analogy. Why shouldn’t we start with a political theory that satisfies us and then create an ethics that models it? Why must we start with a foundation before we know what kind of building we’re constructing?

And worse, my version of the “ethical level” here is exclusively deontological, is it not? Someone who makes teleological ethical evaluations might very well conclude that people operating at the “ethical level” ought to evaluate what they do at a higher level of abstraction if the ends to be striven for are themselves defined at a higher level (and why shouldn’t they be?). Some people even give the State itself moral standing, and assert that we have at least as much of a duty to contribute to its health or to refrain from harming it as we do with each other. “One ought to obey the powers that be,” can be an elemental ethical assertion, or something close to it.

I guess what I’m getting at is: Needs work. I can’t but guess that some better thinker than I has been over this same ground before and has thought it through and written it all down, but so far I haven’t been able to find it. Any pointers?


I was on the bus on the way back from my Spanish tutor a couple of days back, and I think it must have been an old song that came through my earbuds… you know how a smell or a tune or something will all of a sudden coalesce a vivid constellation of memory? I got a flashback to a certain part of my mental state when I was a kid.

I remembered how much anxiety I felt when I was young and unsure of myself. I was constantly alert to ways in which I might be being judged by others or making myself vulnerable to their negative judgment.

On one hand, this is natural: We come into life ignorant of our cultures’ standards of behavior and have to learn them largely through observation and through trial-and-error. So when we’re young we’re especially sensitive to the judgments of others.

On the other hand, this is partially exaggerated and artificial: We create environments like schools in which children spend hours and hours every school day being run through a gamut of external judgments by institutional design — these days, with the current mania for testing and tracking, more than ever.

John Taylor Gatto was a schoolteacher in New York, and was declared the state’s “teacher of the year” in . He’s since become better-known as a critic of institutional schooling. One of his criticisms is that in addition to whatever individual subjects are being taught in school at any particular time, the institution of school is itself constantly teaching a set of lessons that are more pervasive and enduring, and many of which are malignant.

He once described six of these lessons that every schoolteacher teaches. Here is the fifth of these:

I teach that your self-respect should depend on an observer’s measure of your worth. My kids are constantly evaluated and judged. A monthly report, impressive in its precision, is sent into students’ homes to spread approval or to mark exactly down to a single percentage point how dissatisfied with their children parents should be. Although some people might be surprised how little time or reflection goes into making up these records, the cumulative weight of the objective-seeming documents establishes a profile of defect which compels a child to arrive at certain decisions about himself and his future based on the casual judgment of strangers. Self-evaluation — the staple of every major philosophical system that ever appeared on the planet — is never a factor in these things. The lesson of report cards, grades, and tests is that children should not trust themselves or their parents, but must rely on the evaluation of certified officials. People need to be told what they are worth.

It is common for people to get to the end of their school years being so accustomed to trying to perform in such a way as to get external validation that they never grow up to that stage in which they are able to judge themselves and internalize appropriate standards. They graduate with a stunted ethical immaturity and no hints on how to get over it or why.

As a youth, having to monitor myself without the confidence of a mature internal judge, it was as if I were simulating the standpoints of multiple, contradictory, external judges — without any coherent way of discriminating among their judgments, and only the most rudimentary methods of guessing what those judgments would be. And so a question like “am I going to get made fun of for wearing these shoes” could become a consuming angst, with dozens of these simulated judges in my head trying on new ways of mocking my sneakers and the import of their judgments exaggerated beyond all reason. Oh to be a teenager again.

After I had this little flashback to the mental state of my youth, I felt thankful and relieved at having gotten past it. Some people never do, it seems, and that must suck. On the other hand, I’ve heard this surrender of self-judgment to others described in other contexts as a relief or as laying down a burden, so maybe I’m missing something.

Hannah Arendt pointed out how this lack of confident self-judgment — she bluntly called it the act of refusing to be a person — makes people ungrounded and easily-manipulated into committing atrocity. She was writing of the Nazi transformation of Germany when she wrote:

…the few rules and standards according to which men used to tell right from wrong, and which were invoked to judge or justify others and themselves, and whose validity were supposed to be self-evident to every sane person either as a part of divine or of natural law.… without much notice… collapsed almost overnight, and then it was as though morality suddenly stood revealed in the original meaning of the word, as a set of mores, customs and manners, which could be exchanged for another set with hardly more trouble than it would take to change the table manners of an individual or a people.

She looked at the examples of people who refused to go along with the madness and found:

Those who did not participate were neither people who were old-fashioned enough not to accept new standards nor were they in possession of better ones. Their conscience did not function in this mechanical way — where you have a law and then subsume all particular cases under it. They were arrogant enough to judge by themselves.

I don’t think “arrogant” is really called for, even if, in the context, it serves as a complement. “Confident” seems to work better. An arrogant person judges himself and denigrates the judgments of others. A confident person judges himself and scrutinizes the judgments of others — learning from them rather than passively accepting them or trying to avoid them. Learning to judge for yourself doesn’t mean you can start ignoring other people’s opinions, but that you have a basis from which to evaluate them and appreciate them and you no longer just have to flinch from them or deny them.


Some notes from here and there:

I’ve since learned that the International Conference mentioned below will be held from . — ♇

  • I’ve just received word that the 13th International Conference on War Tax Resistance and Peace Tax Campaigns will be held in (early April? early July? the announcement was unclear) in Sandefjord, Norway.
  • Siobhan Phillips tries an experiment: “My husband and I would eat conscientiously for a month, not just on our regular grocery allotment but on the government-defined, food-stamp minimum: $248 for two people in our hometown of New Haven, Conn. We would choose the SOLE-est products available — that is, the sustainable, organic, local or ethical alternative. We would start from a bare pantry, shop only at places that took food stamps and could be reached on foot, and use only basic appliances.” Follow the link to read how it turned out.
  • If you tell someone that they’re a good person, will that make them more likely to do good things? Maybe just the opposite. “Primed to think about what a good person you are, your most likely reaction is to think you’ve paid your morality dues and go on about your business.” In other news: the United States is the is the greatest, freest and most decent society in existence. Perhaps you’ve heard.

I’m also thankful for A Tiny Revolution for bringing me this quote from John Adams:

Power always thinks it has a great soul, and vast views, beyond the comprehension of the weak; and that it is doing God service, when it is violating all His laws. Our passions, ambition, avarice, love, resentment, etc., possess so much metaphysical subtlety, and so much overpowering eloquence, that they insinuate themselves into the understanding and the conscience, and convert both to their party…


Do you have Verizon as your telephone service provider? Do you want to resist the federal excise tax on phone service? Then you’ll probably be interested in Ed Agro’s write-up of how to navigate the Verizon bureaucracy so that they’ll credit your bill for the resisted tax.

Ed also turned me on to a series of articles on the Engaging Peace blog concerning moral engagement and moral disengagement:


As I mentioned , I tried to flesh out a variety of political philosophy that I whimsically dubbed “topianism.”

I meant the name to highlight the distinction between it and utopian political philosophies (meaning, most all of the rest of them, including the mainstream ones that pass for conventional wisdom) — that is to say that it’s not aiming at organizing society in some ideal way, but in understanding and navigating society as it is in the here-and-now (not in the outopos where it will never be, or the eutopos where we might ideally project it to be, but in this topos right here where we’re standing). I’m not crazy about the name “topianism,” but I need some sort of tag to attach to the idea while I look for a better one.

Topianism is almost more of an ethical code than a political philosophy, except that it has a component with profound political consequences: its claim that there is no second standard (or set of standards) by which to judge acts in the political sphere — instead, a single standard applies to everyone. Questions like “is she a citizen?” or “is he a defendant?” or “is she the queen?” or “is he licensed?” or “is that legal?” don’t play the same sort of decisive role in topian evaluation as they do in utopian philosophies.

Topianism bears a lot of resemblance to existentialism because of its emphasis on personal responsibility and on avoiding the temptation to deflect or deny this responsibility.

When you talk about responsibility, you sometimes end up getting into the tangle over free will. There’s a lot of philosophical debate over whether free will makes any sense at all, and if it does, how it must be structured so as to make sense and whether a free will so structured bears any resemblance to the more intuitive, common-sense version of the concept. And there’s a lot of psychological debate over the extent to which our conscious decision-making is actually a causal factor in our actions or is only an after-the-fact “just so story” we tell ourselves.

Be all that as it may, most of us feel that we inhabit a world in which we choose some actions and some things just happen to us and in which there is a big difference between the two. This is crucial to our sense of being living participants in existence and not just spectators along for the ride.

The existentialist tradition did a lot of work identifying some of the ways we conveniently pretend to be spectators instead of participants from time to time in order to try to cheat our way out of confronting our need to decide and our responsibility for the results of our decision-making.

Topianism emphasizes how this works (or rather doesn’t work) in the political sphere. It insists that you cannot displace an individual human decision onto an institution, a hierarchical order, a rule, or anything of the sort. In other words, you cannot say “I did it because it was the law,” or “I did it because it was my job,” or “I did it because it was an order,” or “I did it because it got more votes than the alternative” as a way of trying to mean “the choice I made to do it wasn’t really my choice.”

In its most uncompromising form, topianism won’t even let you foist your decisions off on rules of thumb, ethical principles, or topianism itself. You can refer to such things in the course of explaining your decision-making, but you can’t try to make such things bear any of the weight of your actual decision-making or shoulder any of the responsibility for your actions.

It is an anarchist philosophy, but not because it preaches that The State should be abolished, but because it asserts that The State, as an independent moral agent capable of making decisions and shouldering responsibility, does not exist. The attitude of a topian to The State is not like the attitude of an assassin to the Emperor but like the attitude of an atheist to God.

Topianism does not mandate pacifism, or the nonaggression principle, or aversion to coercion (though some, like Tolstoy in the quotes below and in what I quoted , blend the two ideas or find that they both derive from a common root). Indeed if it were to mandate such a thing, it would be self-undermining, as its practitioners would be pacifists or nonaggressive or noncoercive because of a rule rather than because of their choice.

A topian can throw a man in prison, but only by saying “it’s because I think they should be confined and I’m willing to take responsibility for confining them,” and not “I’m following the law and what the warrant says.” A topian can steal from his neighbor, but only by saying “I want his property and don’t respect his ownership of it,” never by saying “I have a legal seizure order” or “to each according to his need.” Topian decisions can be wise or unwise, good or bad, praiseworthy or blameworthy. The one thing they cannot be is foisted off on someone or something other than the person actually deciding.

A topian can never merely follow an order because it is an order or because the person who gave it holds a rank or position. But a topian may conclude that some other person has a better track record of wisdom and good judgment in some field and may follow his or her advice for that reason — though never losing track of the fact that the choice and the responsibility for the consequences lie with the person taking the advice, not the person giving it.

This may sound slippery, since it seems easy to just linguistically transform an improper delegation of responsibility into a reasonable one just by saying “I choose it.” Is there a meaningful difference between saying “I did it because of an order from my commander” and saying “I did it because I chose to follow the advice of that commander-guy who seemed to me to be well-informed and of good judgment”?

I think there is. In the latter case, you have to at least ostensibly own the responsibility for your choice and make a more-or-less honest claim of having thought it over and justified it — furthermore, your posture is obviously conditional on the good judgment of “that commander-guy” and not just an unconditional carte blanche of obedience. In the former case, none of that is true: you’re merely a tool in your commander’s hands. That said, it’s certainly possible to describe your decision in a way that formally looks proper but is really a dishonest dodge gussied up in the right package. You can’t just change your language in a “politically correct” fashion, you really do have to honestly change your attitude.

Here are some ways I’ve seen the topian creed, or something close to it, expressed:

Juanita Nelson:
“It is, as far as I can see, an unpleasant fact that we cannot avoid decision-making. We are not absolved by following the dictates of a mentor or of a majority. For we then have made the decision to do that — have concluded because of belief or of fear or of apathy that this is the thing which we should do or cannot avoid doing. And then we share in the consequences of any such action. Are we doing more than trying to hide our nakedness with a fig leaf when we take the view expressed by a friend who belonged to a fundamental religious sect? At the time he wore the uniform of the United States Marines. ‘I’m not helping to murder,’ he said. ‘I’m carrying out the orders of my government, and the sin is not mine.’ I could never tell whether there was a bitter smile playing around his lips or if he was quite earnest. It is a rationalization commonly held and defended. It is a comforting presumption, but it still appears to me that, while the seat of government is in Washington, the seat of conscience is in me. It cannot be voted out of office by one or a million others.”
“Bernardo de la Paz” in Robert Heinlein’s The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress:
“A rational anarchist believes that concepts such as ‘state’ and ‘society’ and ‘government’ have no existence save as physically exemplified in the acts of self-responsible individuals. He believes that it is impossible to shift blame, share blame, distribute blame… as blame, guilt, responsibility are matters taking place inside human beings singly and nowhere else.”
Mary McCarthy:
“If somebody points a gun at you and says, ‘Kill your friend or I will kill you,’ he is tempting you, that is all.”
Hannah Arendt:
“[T]here is no such thing as obedience in political and moral matters. The only domain where the word could possibly apply to adults who are not slaves is the domain of religion, in which people say that they obey the word or the command of God because the relationship between God and man can rightly be seen in terms similar to the relation between adult and child. ¶ Hence the question addressed to those who participated and obeyed orders should never be, ‘Why did you obey?’ but ‘Why did you support?’ … Much would be gained if we could eliminate this pernicious word ‘obedience’ from our vocabulary of moral and political thought. If we think these matters through, we might regain some measure of self-confidence and even pride, that is, regain what former times called the dignity or the honor of man: not perhaps of mankind but of the status of being human.”
Vlasov, in Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag Archipelago:
“For myself, I’ve decided one thing only. I’m going to tell the executioner: ‘You alone, not the judges, not the prosecutors, you alone are guilty of my death, and you are going to have to live with it! If it weren’t for you willing executioners, there would be no death sentences!’ So then let him kill me, the rat!”
Tolstoy:
“The men of our time complain of the evil current of life in our Christian world. This cannot be otherwise, when in our consciousness we have recognized not only the fundamental divine commandment, ‘Do not kill,’ which was proclaimed thousands of years ago, but also the law of the love and brotherhood of all men, and when, in spite of this, every man of our European world in reality renounces this fundamental divine law, which he recognizes, and at the command of a president, emperor, minister, a Nicholas, a William, puts on a fool’s costume, takes up instruments of murder, and says, ‘I am ready, — I will strike down, ruin, and kill whomsoever you command me to.’ ¶ What, then, can society be, which is composed of such men? It must be terrible, and, indeed, it is terrible.”
“[T]he chief evil from which men suffer has for a long time not consisted in this: that they do not know God’s true law; but in this: that men, to whom the knowledge and the execution of the true law is inconvenient, being unable to destroy or overthrow it, invent ‘precept upon precept and rule upon rule,’ as Isaiah says, and give them out as just as obligatory as, or even more obligatory than the true laws of God. And so, the only thing that now is needed for freeing men from their sufferings, is this: that they should free themselves from all the theological, governmental, and scientific reflections, which are proclaimed to be obligatory laws of life, and, having freed themselves, should naturally recognize as more binding upon them than all the other precepts and laws, that true, eternal law, which is already known to them, and gives, not only to a few, but to all men, the greatest possible good in social life.”
“ ‘What is to be done?’ ask both the rulers and the ruled, the revolutionists and those engaged in public life, always attaching to the words, ‘What is to be done?’ the meaning of, ‘How should men’s lives be organized?’ ¶ They all ask how to arrange men’s lives, that is to say, what to do with other people; but no one asks, ‘What must I do with myself?’ … ¶ [T]he chief cause of men’s stagnation in a form of life they already admit to be wrong, lies in the amazing superstition… that some men not only can, but have the right to, predetermine and forcibly organize the life of others. ¶ People need only free themselves from this common superstition and it would at once become clear to all that the life of every group of men gets arranged only in the same way that each individual arranges his own life. And if men — both those who arrange others’ lives, and those who submit to such arranging — would only understand that, it would become evident to all that nothing can justify any kind of violence between man and man; and that violence is not only a violation of love and even of justice, but of common sense.”
“Suppose a problem in psychology was set: What can be done to persuade the men of our time — Christians, humanitarians or, simply, kindhearted people — into committing the most abominable crimes with no feeling of guilt? There could be only one way: to do precisely what is being done now, namely, to make them governors, inspectors, officers, policemen, and so forth; which means, first, that they must be convinced of the existence of a kind of organization called ‘government service,’ allowing men to be treated like inanimate objects and banning thereby all human brotherly relations with them; and secondly, that the people entering this ‘government service’ must be so unified that the responsibility for their dealings with men would never fall on any one of them individually.”
Thoreau:
“It behooves every man to see that his influence is on the side of justice, and let the courts make their own characters.”
“There is but one obligation and that is the obligation to obey the highest dictate. — None can lay me under another which will supersede this. The Gods have given me these years without any incumbrance — society has no mortgage on them. If any man assist me in the way of the world, let him derive satisfaction from the deed itself — for I think I never shall have dissolved my prior obligations to God.”
“I must conclude that Conscience, if that be the name of it, was not given us for no purpose, or for a hindrance. However flattering order and expediency may look, it is but the repose of a lethargy, and we will choose rather to be awake, though it be stormy, and maintain ourselves on this earth and in this life, as we may, without signing our death-warrant. Let us see if we cannot stay here, where He has put us, on his own conditions. Does not his law reach as far as his light? The expedients of the nations clash with one another, only the absolutely right is expedient for all.”
“The disease and disorder in society are wont to be referred to the false relations in which men live one to another, but strictly speaking there can be no such thing as a false relation if the condition of the things related is true. False relations grow out of false conditions.”
“Consider the cloak that our employment or station is; how rarely men treat each other for what in their true and naked characters they are; how we use and tolerate pretension; how the judge is clothed with dignity which does not belong to him, and the trembling witness with humility that does not belong to him, and the criminal, perchance, with shame or impudence which no more belong to him. It does not matter so much, then, what is the fashion of the cloak with which we cloak these cloaks. Change the coat; put the judge in the criminal-box, and the criminal on the bench, and you might think that you had changed the men.”
“Is it not possible that an individual may be right and a government wrong? Are laws to be enforced simply because they were made? or declared by any number of men to be good, if they are not good? Is there any necessity for a man’s being a tool to perform a deed of which his better nature disapproves? Is it the intention of law-makers that good men shall be hung ever? Are judges to interpret the law according to the letter, and not the spirit? What right have you to enter into a compact with yourself that you will do thus or so, against the light within you? Is it for you to make up your mind, — to form any resolution whatever, — and not accept the convictions that are forced upon you, and which ever pass your understanding? I do not believe in lawyers, in that mode of attacking or defending a man, because you descend to meet the judge on his own ground, and, in cases of the highest importance, it is of no consequence whether a man breaks a human law or not. Let lawyers decide trivial cases. Business men may arrange that among themselves. If they were the interpreters of the everlasting laws which rightfully bind man, that would be another thing.”
“Must the citizen ever for a moment, or in the least degree, resign his conscience to the legislator? Why has every man a conscience, then? I think that we should be men first, and subjects afterward. It is not desirable to cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right. The only obligation which I have a right to assume, is to do at any time what I think right. It is truly enough said that a corporation has no conscience; but a corporation of conscientious men is a corporation with a conscience. Law never made men a whit more just; and, by means of their respect for it, even the well-disposed are daily made the agents of injustice.”
“A common and natural result of an undue respect for the law is, that you may see a file of soldiers, colonel, captain, corporal, privates, powder-monkeys and all, marching in admirable order over hill and dale to the wars, against their wills, ay, against their common sense and consciences… They have no doubt that it is a damnable business in which they are concerned; they are all peaceably inclined. Now, what are they? Men at all? or small movable forts and magazines, at the service of some unscrupulous man in power? Visit the Navy Yard, and behold a marine, such a man as an American government can make, or such as it can make a man with its black arts, a mere shadow and reminiscence of humanity, a man laid out alive and standing, and already, as one may say, buried under arms with funeral accompaniments… ¶ The mass of men serve the State thus, not as men mainly, but as machines, with their bodies. They are the standing army, and the militia, jailers, constables, posse comitatus, &c. In most cases there is no free exercise whatever of the judgment or of the moral sense; but they put themselves on a level with wood and earth and stones; and wooden men can perhaps be manufactured that will serve the purpose as well. Such command no more respect than men of straw or a lump of dirt. They have the same sort of worth only as horses and dogs. Yet such as these even are commonly esteemed good citizens.”
“My civil neighbor, the tax-gatherer, is the very man I have to deal with, — for it is, after all, with men and not with parchment that I quarrel, — and he has voluntarily chosen to be an agent of the government. How shall he ever know well what he is and does as an officer of the government, or as a man, until he is obliged to consider whether he shall treat me, his neighbor, for whom he has respect, as a neighbor and well-disposed man, or as a maniac and disturber of the peace, and see if he can get over this obstruction to his neighborliness without a ruder and more impetuous thought or speech corresponding with his action.”
“If… a man asserts the value of individual liberty over the merely political commonweal, his neighbor still tolerates him, that he who is living near him, sometimes even sustains him, but never the State. Its officer, as a living man, may have human virtues and a thought in his brain, but as the tool of an institution, a jailer or constable it may be, he is not a whit superior to his prison key or his staff. Herein is the tragedy; that men doing outrage to their proper natures, even those called wise and good, lend themselves to perform the office of inferior and brutal ones. Hence come war and slavery in; and what else may not come in by this opening?”
Walter Raleigh:
“[N]o senate nor civil assembly can be under such natural impulses to honor and justice as single persons; for politic members meet with neither encouragement nor reproaches for what was the effect of number only. For a majority is nobody when that majority is separated, and a collective body can have no synteresis, or divine ray, which is in the mind of every man, never assenting to evil, but upbraiding and tormenting him when he does it: but the honor and conscience that lies in the majority is too thin and diffusive to be efficacious; for a number can do a great wrong, and call it right, and not one of that majority blush for it. Hence it is, that though a public assembly may lie under great censures, yet each member looks upon himself as little concerned: this must be the reason why a Roman senate should act with less spirit and less honor than any single Roman would do.”

I wrote up some thoughts about cognitive and ethical illusions — ways our evolved perceptual and mental processes fail us. I wrote, in part:

[T]he spirit of recent ethical philosophy… seems to want to defer all of the ethical action until all of the loose ends have been tied up in ethical theory.

Which is a shame, because it seems to me that this would be an especially fruitful time to develop a practical discipline of ethics. While some of the great human weaknesses and temptations have been known and discussed for ages, we have never had such precise investigation of ethical blind spots and illusions as we have today.

The science of manipulating people by identifying and then exploiting these conceptual flaws (which crop up not only in optical and ethical illusions, but in all sorts of assessments of what is really going on around us and what is in our best interests) has been running far ahead of any efforts to teach people any sort of self-defense. I don’t see why we shouldn’t start trying to catch up.

Since then I’ve learned more about people who are doing work in this area. Here, for instance, is a TED talk from behavioral economist Dan Ariely:

I also recommend Robin Hanson’s Overcoming Bias blog.


Some bits and pieces from here and there:


A friend of mine shared a version of Bertrand Russell’s ten commandments on a social networking site. Inspired by that, and thinking that it could make for a useful exercise, I thought I’d try to come up with ten of my own. Instead, I came up with…

Ten things I think are probably true concerning ethics:

  1. Being good involves a number of interrelated skills (“virtues”) that are learnable and that most everyone can get better at with deliberate practice.
  2. Rules and maxims are poor substitutes for practice and habit when push comes to shove.
  3. Efforts to reduce ethics to one or a small handful of rules are perennially tempting and always wrong. Avoid the temptation to make ethics simple.
  4. That said, the intellectual exercise of elucidating the heuristics that roughly map to your ethical intuitions can be a helpful ethical yoga.
  5. Many people do not value their characters nearly enough. You’d be wise not to make that mistake. Aside from being a good idea in its own right, when you value your character you also find being virtuous inherently pleasant and attractive.
  6. You ought to beware when you step into a role (particularly a role in a hierarchy) that you believe permits or requires you to operate under a different ethical standard than normal or to suspend your judgment.
  7. It is okay to tell people when they do things that you think are dishonorable. It is okay to be intolerant of intolerable things. It is a good idea to be judgmental. It is also wise to be humbly aware of your fallibility.
  8. If you can learn to catch yourself lying to yourself you will have discovered a life-long and very rewarding hobby. Happy hunting!
  9. You are not a by-stander. You are involved. Doing nothing or sticking with the status quo is just as much of a moral choice as any other and you are just as responsible for having made it.
  10. You yourself have to be the one to care about it, value it, put it right, or make it matter — the universe isn’t going to do any of that for you and there never has been a God.

These are largely stolen from other people who said things that struck me as being true to my experience of the problem of figuring out how best to do this living thing. (For instance, Aristotle gets credit for #s 1, 2, and 5; Kwame Anthony Appiah, I think, convinced me of #3; Adam Smith and later experimental ethicists brought me around to #4; Hannah Arendt can have credit for #6, though she’s not alone, and some of #7 and #5 as well; the existentialists won me over to #s 9 & 10. I’ll claim #8 as my sole original contribution, though I’d be surprised if a bunch of people I haven’t come across yet didn’t really beat me to it.)


Some links of interest:

  • The Nuclear Resister reprints some historical information about nonviolent resistance to U.S. nuclear weapons in the Pacific Northwest. Prominent in this history is the strong stand taken by Catholic Archbishop Raymond Hunthausen, who called the Trident nuclear submarines the “Auschwitz of Puget Sound” and rallied Christians to oppose it. Hunthausen also refused to pay a portion of his income tax to protest against U.S. military spending. While Hunthausen deserves credit for making a bold, forthright stand and following it up with action, this didn’t happen in a vacuum — the ongoing civil disobedience of the Ground Zero activists influenced him. But he in turn opened the floodgates for other religious leaders to come forward to strongly condemn the American “first strike” policy and nuclear weapons in general. Here’s some excerpts from an interview with Jim Douglass, conducted by Terry Messman:
    Terry Messman
    Why was Hunthausen such a significant voice in the movement for nuclear disarmament?
    Jim Douglass
    He gave a speech in which he stated to a very large number of religious leaders gathered in Tacoma, Washington, that Trident was the “Auschwitz of Puget Sound.” And he took a stand of refusing to pay his income taxes in order to resist Trident.
    Terry Messman
    After he made that statement, we invited him to speak at the Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley where he urged hundreds of religious leaders to resist nuclear murder and suicide.
    Jim Douglass
    Yes. And as a result, roughly six months later, he actually stated publicly, “I have now decided to stop paying half of my taxes” — the half of his taxes that would have gone to military appropriations and nuclear weapons.
    Terry Messman
    It was such an important turning point when an archbishop actually called for massive civil disobedience.
    Jim Douglass
    Yes, and he not only called for it — he did it! His tax resistance was nonviolent civil disobedience in the most radical sense possible.
    Terry Messman
    When Archbishop Hunthausen declared that Trident was the Auschwitz of Puget Sound, what effect did it have on your work at Ground Zero? And what effect did it have on the general public?
    Jim Douglass
    It electrified the general public. And it profoundly encouraged us. We all knew Archbishop Hunthausen. We’d known him for years and he’d already done all kinds of things to support our work. He supported a 30-day fast that we engaged in. He sent information on the Trident campaign to his entire body of priests and religious leaders in the diocese. He brought over to Ground Zero all of his administrative leaders in the archdiocese for a retreat on the issue of Trident. He’d done everything he could — up to refusing to pay his own taxes — before he took that step. So we were one in community with Archbishop Hunthausen before he took that further step.
    Terry Messman
    What was the response of the Church hierarchy to Hunthausen’s call for massive resistance to the arms race?
    Jim Douglass
    Well, I would say it was a mixed response. A number of Catholic bishops within the United States made statements of their own against nuclear weapons in the months following Archbishop Hunthausen’s statement. I think they were to some degree, if not largely, inspired by his courage. I found that remarkable because there had been so much silence before then.

    Terry Messman
    In what way did Hunthausen’s statement play such a huge role in the bishops speaking out?
    Jim Douglass
    There was nothing vaguely like Archbishop Hunthausen’s statement before him. And following his statement there were many!

    Jim Douglass
    Archbishop Hunthausen really was a catalyst in a movement of religious leaders, not only Catholics but others as well. Remember that the statement by which he began to become so prominent was made to the Lutheran leaders of the Pacific Northwest. He wasn’t speaking to Catholics; he was speaking to the Lutheran leaders who had invited him to speak because he had already become a leader on this issue. That’s when he made the statement that gained national attention. He had an effect on everybody. In the Pacific Northwest, especially, he was meeting every week with all the other key religious leaders. They ate breakfast together. I joined them a number of times so I met these people and Archbishop Hunthausen was the most prophetic voice and the inspiration in their midst. These were all the most prominent religious leaders at that time in Seattle and everyone at these breakfasts was very supportive of Archbishop Hunthausen. The Jewish leaders were very supportive of Archbishop Hunthausen. So it was right across the board that religious leaders said, “This man is speaking out in a way that is both prophetic and pastoral.”
  • Wake Forest University is sponsoring something called “The Beacon Project.” The theory behind the project seems to be that to discover more about how to be most ethical, it would be wise to pay close attention to people who exhibit uncommonly extraordinary moral behavior — moral “geniuses” perhaps. I can think of some big challenges for an approach like this, but it also seems like it could be very promising.
  • A family in Rutland, Vermont has begun a tax strike against the education tax there. Excerpts from the letter they used to announce their stand:

    On August 31, when first-quarter property tax was due in Rutland, we paid 49 percent of the amount due, covering our municipal tax liability, and withheld the 51 percent slated for education. We will continue this practice every quarter until the Legislature gains the political will to pass meaningful and fair education reform.

    I work at two part-time jobs, and my pay at one of those has recently been reduced. My wife is self-employed. We have no family members in public school. Yet habitually frugal as we are, in order to pay the tax levied for the maintenance of Vermont’s education system, we are frequently forced to defer paying some bills or to put off filling some prescriptions. We can purchase fuel only in small amounts.

    In fact, we are denying payment precisely for the greater good, and for the good of Vermont, in the hope that even a small action will speak louder than words and bring to the attention of the Legislature the seriousness of the plight of those whom they are supposed to serve.

    We are aware of the repercussions our action may have. Governments tend not to smile on civil disobedience, especially when it affects their income. Yet Americans have learned throughout history that when our governments do not act in the public’s interest it becomes necessary for the public to act for itself.

    We hope that some other aggrieved Vermonters will join us in this action. If not, we will stand alone, but we will stand.

  • Tax receipts in Greece continue to plummet as the government wavers about whether to stick with the euro and people decide to wait out the uncertainty with their money in their own pockets.
  • I keep waiting for the folks in the anti-abortion movement to catch on to the tax resistance idea, but when it comes to taxes, they’re mostly just talk. Lately the talk is all about refusing to pay taxes that might end up going to Planned Parenthood, but it’s a rare day when I see a pro-lifer put money and mouth together. Here’s an example — a video-blog or something of the sort from Garrett Johnson in which he advocates tax resistance in the anti-abortion cause. Another example is that of Scott Roeder, currently serving a long sentence for murdering a doctor who performed abortions, who gave an interview in which he promoted Constitutionalist tax protest theories. I’ll keep my ear to the ground and let you know if any of this catches on.