Democracy, Economics, and the Public Good

Informational Failures and Potential

J. Budd

• Publisher: Palgrave Macmillan
• Year: 2015
• ISBN:
  9781137446282
• Topic: Politics & International Relations
• Subtopic: Trade & Tariffs
• Index: Politics & International Relations

Examining essential aspects of American life, John Budd investigates how informational sources (print and broadcast media and other resources) fall short when it comes to informing citizens, failing our democracy and damaging the public good.

1

Democracy

Ideals and Practicalities

Of course, scholars and commentators have thought seriously about what democracy should be, how capitalism should work effectively as well as efficiently, and what constitutes its relationship to the public good. Some who might call themselves realists have sought to explain how beneficial compromise might be achieved so that the ideals do not have to be entirely forsaken, but the conceits of the world may not upset the intentions too much. What, in the United States in which we live, is democracy? People frequently refer to the US Constitution as the hallmark of democracy, but if the Constitution is the sine qua non of our democratic state, why are there thousands of statutes at all governance levels? Why are there countless lawsuits, many of which challenge laws and even the constitutionality of people’s actions? The Constitution and the existing laws actually do not provide answers in the sense of dispute-ending final words. Many lengthy books have been written about these questions; this brief chapter cannot even summarize all the opinions and scholarship. What will be presented is a selection of some influential—even controversial—operational ideas about the central topics of this book, beginning with democracy, so that we can examine the efficacy of informing forces of media and other entities. In short, democracy, capitalism, and the public good are so complex and are in such dispute (and are each subject to ideology) that the provision of informing substance to people is problematic in the extreme while simultaneously being among the most vitally important to the future of the body politic.

To the disappointment of some (and I hope to disappoint, as well as to meet the approval of individuals), I will say now that the hopes and aspirations for the human goals advocated here must avoid a trap—institutional fetishism. There is no single institution, not even a set of institutions, that can (by virtue of their existence) be the salvation of hopes and dreams of American citizens. On the contrary, too often the institutions themselves are the seats of frustration and oppression. This notion has its origins in Marx’s critique of commodity fetishism. In capitalist societies, including (perhaps especially) democratic ones, commodities become a central focus of the entire economy. In actuality, pertaining to commodities, as Marx (1976) points out, “The product becomes increasingly one-sided and massive in nature . . . The commodity is a transfiguration of capital that has valorized itself, and its sale must now be organized on the scale and in the quantities necessary to realize the old capital value and the old surplus-value it has created” (pp. 953, 954). Moreover, though, Georg Lukács (1971) built on Marx’s commodity fetishism to extend the point to a result of the reification of humanity and society:

The commodity can only be understood in its undistorted essence when it becomes the universal category of society as a whole. Only in this context does the reification produced by commodity relations assume decisive importance both for the objective evolution of society and for the stance adopted by men towards it. Only then does the commodity become crucial for the subjugation of men’s consciousness to the form in which this reification finds expression and for their attempts to comprehend the process or to rebel against the disastrous effects and liberate themselves from servitude to the “second nature” so created. (p. 86)

The words of Marx and Lukács set the tone for this chapter and then next.

It is possible—no, it is probable—that some readers will wish that some particular sources would have been used here. Also, some readers may well wish that some sources would have been omitted. The selection of background works is undertaken in attempts to demonstrate the most influential scholarship and popular work. Occasionally, controversial, even prejudiced, works will be mentioned to demonstrate the breadth of writing and thought that exist. In all cases, the sources will be subject to a critical eye. There will be times when departures from the ideals will generate anger and frustration, in me as well as in readers. The excitement of response is deliberate—otherwise, the premise of failings of informing entities would be false and empty. In many instances, it will be the eschewing of the ideals that will generate the anger, especially when the neglect of the ideals rests at the feet of the people and bodies that should be speaking out. Now some detail is required to provide the background for analysis.

Liberty

Democracy, perhaps especially American democracy, sees itself as the cradle of liberty. That, of course, is primarily a rhetorical claim; as such, it requires examination on several fronts. The first issue to investigate is the definition and practice of “liberty.” Momentarily, we will study classical liberalism; here we take a more grand and general look at liberty. First of all, there is a challenge awaiting that relates to setting the parameters of a discussion of liberty. While one might extend the limits and talk about liberty as it may apply to the areas of life that include leisure, venal acquisition of goods and property, and so on, the discourse here will concentrate on the broad political that affects everyone’s lives in some way. The US Constitution, as well as many political theorists, couches some expressions of liberty in the syntax of “freedom from” as well as “freedom to” or “freedom for.” The First Amendment articulates some freedom from interference or freedom from obstruction. An example is that Congress shall pass no laws abridging freedom of religious practice, speech, the press, assembly, or redress of grievances. In a similar form, the Fourteenth Amendment prohibits restricting citizens’ pursuit of life, liberty, and property without due process of law. Some commentators are of the opinion that the Fourteenth is the most important amendment at this time in the nation’s history. There may be a more important and necessary distinction to be made between negative and positive liberty. Putterman (2006) suggests that the foundation of negative freedom is power, while the foundation of positive freedom is moral. There is merit in his claim; the difference will be upheld here.

The foregoing examples focus primarily on public action, and legal actions have tended to address claims of restriction or abridgments of the rights. While there is not sufficient time and space here to provide evidence of the tendency, there are resources that provide cases dealing with elements of free speech or expression. It must be added that there are also works by scholars who believe that there should be restrictions on some speech, including hate speech, that is intended to do palpable harm to individuals or groups (see, for example, Waldron, 2012). The point to be taken away here is that, even with a text as authoritative as the US Constitution, there will be interpretations—and variant interpretations at that. Liberty is bound to be an object of conflict and tension and probably always will be so. When one accounts for the many, many federal and state laws, the tension is of a high magnitude. Another realization is necessary here. While “liberty” and “freedom” are oftentimes equated, we should follow Dworkin’s (2006) admonition that “liberty is not just freedom. No one has the right to live precisely as he wishes; no one has a right to a life dedicated to violence, theft, cruelty, or murder” (p. 69). The laws that exist attempt, for the most part, to minimize the harms that people can do—or at least to punish those who would perpetrate the harms.

Claims by learned people illustrate the enormity and the nature of the tension. Berlin (2002) speaks to the difficulty of the matter:

The assumption that men need protection against each other and against the government is something which has never been fully accepted in any part of the world, and what I have called the ancient Greek or classical point of view comes back in the form of arguments such as this: “You say that an individual has the right to choose the kind of life he prefers. But does that apply to everyone? If the individual is ignorant, immature, uneducated, mentally crippled, denied adequate opportunities of health and development, he will not know how to choose.” (p. 284)

These kinds of concerns have not gone away; people ponder them seriously at all times in history. Any astute reader will recognize immediately that the issue is not simply the capacities of individuals but who makes determinations about those capacities. Not one of the detriments to judgment that Berlin mentions has one single objective measure that can assure the citizenry of just application for the benefit of the body politic. This is not merely a question for science; it is a matter of deliberation for all people. Moreover, the decision processes rely on informational structures that can—literally—give shape to thoughts, arguments, and decisions. At the present time (and, it can be safely said, at no time in human history), we lack the informational apparatus that would justify abridging liberty and freedom, and participation, in political discourse and its outcomes.

There are some commentators who offer responses to concerns raised by Berlin’s ideas. For example, Lukacs (2005) suggests, “Freedom means the capacity to know something about oneself, and the consequent practice or at least the desire to live according to limits imposed on oneself rather than by external powers” (p. 222). Self-knowledge is an extreme challenge for every human being. It requires not only maturity but also wisdom to set limits for oneself. Where would this knowledge come from? Is it to be entirely of internal discovery, or can there be external sources that can be absorbed? These cannot be unanswerable questions, or Lukacs’s goal will never be realized. In actuality, we learn about ourselves, to a great extent, by living with others (the with in this sentence is intended to be significantly richer than simple living among others). Our awareness and acumen must reach levels that enable each of us to discern the right and the true. The good life—if we can so refer to this—presumes more than living; it necessarily requires living for ourselves and others. Lukacs is cognizant of the added complexity; he speaks of the meaning of life as well as the means according to which we should live. Further, Lukacs aptly marks the distinction between patriotism (the love of one’s land and traditions) and nationalism (the selfish love of a political ideology): “Nationalism is both self-centered and selfish—because human love is not the love of oneself; it is the lover of another” (emphasis in original; p. 73). That may be the most important lesson to take away.

Berlin may be making a point for discussion; it is not necessarily his belief. Raz (1986) makes his own stance explicit: “Cannot one simply state that freedom is intrinsically valuable? I will call this the simple principle. If it is valid then it follows that there is a reason against every restriction of freedom. Hence every political act restricting anyone’s freedom requires a justification which overcomes that reason against such acts” (pp. 12–13). It must be remembered that neither Berlin nor Raz (two eminent theorists on liberty) are stating positions that are based on human action aimed at producing good for the individual in question and also producing no harm for any other individual. Thus a person investing wisely in the stock market and building his or her wealth is not harming anyone else, primarily because any other individual could engage in like behavior and realize personal benefit. On the other hand, if the first individual had inside information about a company, then that person could benefit by harm done to others who lack that knowledge. Informational action always carries ethical import and responsibility; that maxim cannot be either understated or forgotten.

As might be expected, politicians have also written on liberty. Recently, US presidential candidate Ron Paul wrote a book titled Liberty Defined (2011). His point of view may be evident from the dedication—to Ludwig von Mises and F. A. Hayek, among others. Paul has categorized himself as a libertarian (libertarianism will be discussed in the section following “Liberalism”). In the introduction to his book, Paul (2011) writes, “Liberty means to exercise human rights in any manner a person chooses so long as it does not interfere with the exercise of the rights of others. This means, above all else, keeping government out of our lives” (emphasis added; p. xi). In the book, Paul lists fifty issues and takes stances on each one of them. For example, he argues against abortion but also against bipartisanship. Reception of the book has varied; Akers (2011) writes, “Ron Paul’s latest book, Liberty Defined, is a gem of political wisdom. It covers topics deeply enough to interest political wonks, yet so clearly that the novice can enjoy it” (p. 33). On the other hand, Doherty (2011) says, “But while Liberty Defined has a leftish tinge, Paul is not afraid to send the typical liberal reader screaming for the exits by expressing skepticism about global warming, advocating the Second Amendment as a defense against tyranny, and insisting that there is no right to medical care. Paul believes a free market produces so much wealth that we need not choose between freedom and the amelioration of poverty. But he says he would be for freedom anyway” (p. 85).

Ron Paul is not a political philosopher, so it should not be a surprise that his positions on the various topics lack absolute clarity and consistency. That said, it could be telling that politicians lack the clarity and consistency that the country and the world require for genuine contributions to the public good. Also, while Paul’s book is something of a polemic, it has received little attention in the mainstream press, even though it became a bestseller. Here is someone who ran a serious campaign for the presidency, but there is precious little to inform people about what the candidate himself has to say about his beliefs (unless a person reads Paul’s own words). People who would be inclined to learn more about Paul could be interested in discovering that he thinks all schooling should be in the hands of local school boards so as to avoid the potential tyranny of federal requirements (pp. 78–82). He does not consider that the localization of schooling does not equal liberty. In fact, it could result in localized repression—repression that leads to illiberal and partisan education for a great number of America’s young people. Yes, people could read his book, but his opinions could also be fodder for reportage on a large scale. In fact, given that he was a presidential aspirant, there should have been serious, and informing, reportage.

By no means does everyone agree with Paul—or with libertarianism more generally. Walzer (2004), for one, believes that there is reason to think that government is efficacious in promoting liberty and in helping people realize freedom: “Civil society cannot become a home for either freedom or pluralism without state action” (Walzer, 2004, p. 73). The concept of pluralism is now introduced, but what does it mean? In short, pluralism is the case for an open forum for all voices and freedom for people from all walks of life. People of all political and ideological stripes ought to have the freedom to express their opinions and beliefs, even if (especially if?) the majority disagrees with them. The sources of difference may include racial, gender, ethnic, age, geographic, socioeconomic, cultural, religious, linguistic, and associational elements as well as politics. Most frequently, the differences embody complex combinations of factors. A poor, working, white, lesser-educated male from, say, Appalachia will have little in common with a well-to-do, highly educated, white-collar Latina from California. Nonetheless, the pluralism Walzer (2004) speaks of is problematic in today’s United States. He expresses the challenge, “Especially in traditionalist religious and ethnic communities, the freedom and mobility of subordinate members, women most importantly, are radically curtailed. The state could act on behalf of these subordinate members, but most of the time it supports the dominant elites. When that happens, civil society is not the realm of freedom” (p. 75).

Justice

To return to democracy more directly, if we actually want to begin with a question for the definition, we might turn to John Rawls first. One reason to start with him is his overwhelming influence on the topic. That is certainly not to say that everyone agrees with him; in fact, about as many people disagree with him as agree with him. He does, though, articulate one framework for democratic action and behavior to which people can react. In a nutshell, his program is an effort to discover the most efficacious source of justice for everyone. Continuing to reduce his program, justice is whatever results in the greatest degree of fairness for everyone. Of course, these are oversimplifications, but his principles do hold closely to these points. He (1999) begins by stating, “Justice is the first virtue of social institutions, as truth is of systems of thought” (p. 3). Justice, while both a first principle and a primary objective, is a social phenomenon that can be present or absent in law, contracts, institutional behavior, and just about all human settings. In particular, Rawls concerns himself with what is required to create a just and fair society in which no one, and no group, is privileged by law; that is, he desires that all in society are treated fairly. A primary means by which fairness occurs is the application of what Rawls (1999) calls the “veil of ignorance” (pp. 118–23). The application of this principle requires that the social position—including wealth, social status, employment, and so on—of any person is unknown. Behind that veil, everyone can be treated equally, since each individual should presume that it is he or she behind the veil as well as that it is he or she not behind the veil. If these presumptions obtain, fairness should be the outcome.

One concept runs throughout Rawls’s work: The state should be neutral regarding the definition and determination of the good life. One might consider this something of a libertarian ideal, but it is not. While Rawls is not explicit about describing what constitutes the good life, he does expound upon that manner by which individuals decide the constitution of the good life for themselves. That decision process includes the means by which people impose the burden of fairness upon everyone as an essential component of the process. Joseph Raz (1986) presents an explication of Rawls’s stance: “Since in the original position no one knows his own moral ideals, his own conception of the good, Rawls concludes that no perfectionist standards will be adopted in it” (p. 124). The importance of Raz’s statement to the thesis of the present book cannot be overstated.

While we will not review the entirety of thought on democracy here, we must note that Rawls’s is not the last word on liberty, justice, or good. For Gutmann and Thompson (2004), deliberation is essential; in their conception, the citizenry is not merely some mass of objects to be governed. Individuals are to be able to act as agents with voices that can be heard; the processes and products of governance are to be reasoned and accessible to people; there is a binding element to deliberation so that the product is not an amalgamation of empty words; and the process is dynamic (i.e., it is not seasonal or occasional; pp. 3–6). Is their conception difficult to achieve? Decidedly! A reason for the difficulty is, perhaps, inherent in the politics of the West (and maybe everywhere). Individuals in power—the representatives elected by the people—seek to hold their power dear. Transparency could be deemed a threat to power; any misstep by politicians could be used to unseat them. The nature of political speech is such that incivility is all too often the prevalent form of discursive practice. Furthermore, governance in many Western countries (certainly the United States) also includes unelected officials who wield substantial power. The extent to which they are answerable to the people varies, and the benefit of their independence is an open question. Some may say that the absence of election allows the officials to avoid being beholden to special...

Table of contents

• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Acknowledgments
• Introduction
• 1: Democracy: Ideals and Practicalities
• 2: Economics and Finance: Where Has Theory Come From and What Do We Face Today?
• 3: The Public Good and the Public Sphere
• 4: Informational Failures
• 5: Informational Potential
• References