After a good deal of deliberation, I've decided to do away with Weyenberg Weekly. My summer project has evolved to something more sustainable, and overall, it has more potential than this blog does. What I've written here is some of my best stuff, and it's been replicated in some ways on the new project as well.
So, if you like what you see here, check out my summer project, and then check out the new 105 project here.
Thanks for reading!
-jw
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Kill the Filibuster: Locke on Majority
When most people think of Locke, they think of property. However, the protection of private property is not the end-all-be-all of Locke. While the end of Locke’s government is indeed the preservation of property, the end of his legislature is more general: the preservation of society. So, obviously, how the legislature works is of the utmost importance to Locke, and it works under the direction of majority rule precisely because society is ruled by the majority. Locke says “it is necessary the body should move that way whither the greater force carries it, which is the consent of the majority: or else it is impossible it should act or continue one body, one community, which the consent of every individual that united into it; and so everyone is bound by that consent to be concluded by the majority." Majority rule is a condition of Locke’s social contract; it is ingrained into the very fiber of the state. For Locke, politics necessarily presupposes majority rule. Essentially, politics is simply is not possible without this institution. “The act of the majority passes for the act of the whole,” says Locke. An important distinction here is that Locke means that the act of the majority is to be perceived as the act of the whole, not taken to actually be the act of the whole. This allows for an importance to still be placed on dissenting opinion and minority rights.
Locke extrapolates the importance of majority rule in the origin of society into his legislature. The legislature, for Locke, is the director of the force of the commonwealth. It is “bound to dispense justice, and decide the rights of the subject." In short, the legislature is the greatest power in the state. However, the legislature needs the consent of society to act. They obtain this through election, and therefore their power is limited to advancing the public good. In this sense, Locke and Rousseau’s legislatures have similar limitations (it is also worth noting that for both authors, the ultimate end of government in general is the preservation of liberty). However, Locke’s legislature operates on majority rule because they are elected representatives; their will is taken as the will of the people, and the majority of the people have the right of decision making in political society, so the majority of the legislature is therefore the ruling body. If majority rule does not rule the legislature, than politics is as impossible to advance as it is when majority rule does not rule society.
This can easily be seen in the history of American politics. Even recently, the mere threat of a filibuster is enough to convince the majority to drop a major piece of legislation. This necessity of a super-majority stifles progress in all areas of national policy, and, as Locke says, the body often fails to move at all because the will of the majority is held hostage by the will of the minority. Yes, it is entirely possible that the will of the majority may not be perpetually correct, but halting politics altogether to mitigate this risk is not the answer. Focusing on finding the general will may be a noble calling, but it is in no way practical. With the general will as the focus, politics will stagnate, and may cease to exist altogether as Locke notes when he says “where the majority cannot conclude the rest, there they cannot act as one body, and consequently will be immediately dissolved again." There are dangers in all aspects of politics, but two things are certain: politics must constantly be advancing and adapting, and majority rule is the only way to ensure that this occurs in the best way possible, that is, occurs in the best interest of the most people of a society.
Locke extrapolates the importance of majority rule in the origin of society into his legislature. The legislature, for Locke, is the director of the force of the commonwealth. It is “bound to dispense justice, and decide the rights of the subject." In short, the legislature is the greatest power in the state. However, the legislature needs the consent of society to act. They obtain this through election, and therefore their power is limited to advancing the public good. In this sense, Locke and Rousseau’s legislatures have similar limitations (it is also worth noting that for both authors, the ultimate end of government in general is the preservation of liberty). However, Locke’s legislature operates on majority rule because they are elected representatives; their will is taken as the will of the people, and the majority of the people have the right of decision making in political society, so the majority of the legislature is therefore the ruling body. If majority rule does not rule the legislature, than politics is as impossible to advance as it is when majority rule does not rule society.
This can easily be seen in the history of American politics. Even recently, the mere threat of a filibuster is enough to convince the majority to drop a major piece of legislation. This necessity of a super-majority stifles progress in all areas of national policy, and, as Locke says, the body often fails to move at all because the will of the majority is held hostage by the will of the minority. Yes, it is entirely possible that the will of the majority may not be perpetually correct, but halting politics altogether to mitigate this risk is not the answer. Focusing on finding the general will may be a noble calling, but it is in no way practical. With the general will as the focus, politics will stagnate, and may cease to exist altogether as Locke notes when he says “where the majority cannot conclude the rest, there they cannot act as one body, and consequently will be immediately dissolved again." There are dangers in all aspects of politics, but two things are certain: politics must constantly be advancing and adapting, and majority rule is the only way to ensure that this occurs in the best way possible, that is, occurs in the best interest of the most people of a society.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Kill the Filibuster: Rousseau's General Will
Majority rule is almost axiomatic of democracy, especially as it relates to the legislature. That fifty percent plus one constitutes majority and that this majority will inevitably act in the best interest of society has been accepted as truth for millennia. It can be seen in nearly every legislature all the way to student governments to children deciding on which game to play on a Saturday afternoon; the idea has pervaded itself into Western culture in a way that no other rule of government has. Why, then, is this not adequate for the United States Senate? To answer this question from a theoretical perspective, we need to find an argument against pure majority rule. One the best examples of this is Rousseau’s idea of the general will.
It should first be recognized that, contrary to many other authors, Rousseau sees majority rule only as an established convention and not as natural. This stance allows him to challenge majority rule in ways that many other authors cannot. He does this by positing the idea that the general will is sovereign in a state. Of the general will, Rousseau says it “is always right and always tends toward the public utility”. This idea of infallibility echoes early ideas of majority rule from authors such as Aristotle, and it was so sought after that Post-Revolutionary France tried in many ways to ensure legislation was in line with this general will. It is important to recognize that the general will is not the same as the will of all, because Rousseau says that the will of all is easily tricked and manipulated. He says that “what makes the will general is not so much the number of votes as the common interest that unites them”. Overall, it could be argued that the general will is the will that seeks to most advance the public good. This can be seen when Rousseau says “the art of the legislator is to know how to determine the point at which the government’s will and force…are combined in the relationship that is most advantageous to the state”. He also says that “in a perfect act of legislation, the private or individual will should be nonexistent, the corporate will proper to the government should be very subordinate, and consequently the general or sovereign will should always be dominant”. So for Rousseau, the legislature is responsible for interpreting the general will and acting on it.
But how is the general will to be interpreted? After all, it is possible that it is held only by one member of the state. It would seem, then, that the legislature is responsible for finding a needle in a haystack. Rousseau does, however, offer a few guidelines. Firstly, the general will can never concern a particular object. In fact, he goes so far as to say that any function relating to a particular object does not belong to the legislature at all. Rousseau also says that the private will is never the same as the general will for any long period of time. Finally, he says that “for the general will to be well articulated, it is therefore important that there should be no partial society in the state and that each citizen make up his own mind”.
The problem is that these guidelines are entirely too vague to make this rule of the general will a reality. As I alluded to earlier, the French did attempt this, but it was never a success. In essence, Rousseau says that the general will is felt, not seen. By nature, this is extremely difficult, if not completely impossible, to judge objectively. Also, if it is not often in line with the private will or the will of the majority, but is hidden latent in the mind of society, how is it ever supposed to be interpreted? Are legislators supposed to be able to read the minds of citizens? Furthermore, if it can never concern a particular object, this essentially destroys the ability of the legislature to write any prescriptive laws. Take the two major reforms in the United States in the last year: health care and financial reform. They certainly address a particular object, so under rule of the general will they would not even be possible. For that matter, reform in general would be nearly impossible under this type of rule. Finally, Rousseau himself recognizes that society eventually arrives a point where a person is defined as a voter by his associations, which presupposes a partial society in which the general will is poorly articulated.
In sum, Rousseau’s theory of the rule of general will does provide a theoretical basis for majority-subverting rules such as the filibuster, but it is so difficult– and even, at times, impossible – to discern, that it is not sufficient to warrant such a rule. Also, the idea of subverting majority rule is very well dispelled by many of the ideas of John Locke.
It should first be recognized that, contrary to many other authors, Rousseau sees majority rule only as an established convention and not as natural. This stance allows him to challenge majority rule in ways that many other authors cannot. He does this by positing the idea that the general will is sovereign in a state. Of the general will, Rousseau says it “is always right and always tends toward the public utility”. This idea of infallibility echoes early ideas of majority rule from authors such as Aristotle, and it was so sought after that Post-Revolutionary France tried in many ways to ensure legislation was in line with this general will. It is important to recognize that the general will is not the same as the will of all, because Rousseau says that the will of all is easily tricked and manipulated. He says that “what makes the will general is not so much the number of votes as the common interest that unites them”. Overall, it could be argued that the general will is the will that seeks to most advance the public good. This can be seen when Rousseau says “the art of the legislator is to know how to determine the point at which the government’s will and force…are combined in the relationship that is most advantageous to the state”. He also says that “in a perfect act of legislation, the private or individual will should be nonexistent, the corporate will proper to the government should be very subordinate, and consequently the general or sovereign will should always be dominant”. So for Rousseau, the legislature is responsible for interpreting the general will and acting on it.
But how is the general will to be interpreted? After all, it is possible that it is held only by one member of the state. It would seem, then, that the legislature is responsible for finding a needle in a haystack. Rousseau does, however, offer a few guidelines. Firstly, the general will can never concern a particular object. In fact, he goes so far as to say that any function relating to a particular object does not belong to the legislature at all. Rousseau also says that the private will is never the same as the general will for any long period of time. Finally, he says that “for the general will to be well articulated, it is therefore important that there should be no partial society in the state and that each citizen make up his own mind”.
The problem is that these guidelines are entirely too vague to make this rule of the general will a reality. As I alluded to earlier, the French did attempt this, but it was never a success. In essence, Rousseau says that the general will is felt, not seen. By nature, this is extremely difficult, if not completely impossible, to judge objectively. Also, if it is not often in line with the private will or the will of the majority, but is hidden latent in the mind of society, how is it ever supposed to be interpreted? Are legislators supposed to be able to read the minds of citizens? Furthermore, if it can never concern a particular object, this essentially destroys the ability of the legislature to write any prescriptive laws. Take the two major reforms in the United States in the last year: health care and financial reform. They certainly address a particular object, so under rule of the general will they would not even be possible. For that matter, reform in general would be nearly impossible under this type of rule. Finally, Rousseau himself recognizes that society eventually arrives a point where a person is defined as a voter by his associations, which presupposes a partial society in which the general will is poorly articulated.
In sum, Rousseau’s theory of the rule of general will does provide a theoretical basis for majority-subverting rules such as the filibuster, but it is so difficult– and even, at times, impossible – to discern, that it is not sufficient to warrant such a rule. Also, the idea of subverting majority rule is very well dispelled by many of the ideas of John Locke.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Kill the Filibuster: Overview and Background
As promised, here's my super-heady, theory-heavy analysis on why the filibuster should be killed as a rule in the Senate. Enjoy,
The filibuster, and the vote of cloture needed to break it, is an oft-debated topic when discussing the rules of the United States Senate. I argue that, while this rule can be defended from certain theoretical standpoints – namely Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s general will – it ultimately lacks the sufficient theoretical basis to be a rule central to the operation of what is often called the greatest deliberative body in the world, as can be shown by the arguments of John Locke. I will briefly explore the history and logistics of the filibuster and the vote of cloture, offer theoretical arguments for this rule, and finally prove that it does indeed lack a sufficient theoretical basis and should be terminated.
The filibuster has been in existence as long as the Senate itself. Originally, it could be employed by Representatives as well, but the size of that institution soon made it necessary to restrict debate, and the rule was abolished. Essentially, the filibuster allows any Senator to hold the floor for an unlimited amount of time and therefore block a vote on a bill. The record for longest filibuster is more than twenty-four hours. In this form, the filibuster essentially allowed for a minority of even one Senator to completely stop the passage of major legislation with wide-spread public support. This unabashed possibility of a minority “hostage situation” prompted the institution of Rule Twenty-Two in 1917. This rule allowed for the first vote of cloture. This was a two-thirds vote of the Senate to end debate and immediately bring a bill up for vote. However, this two-thirds “super majority” was far too difficult to come by, and cloture was used extremely rarely for the next five decades. For this reason, cloture was changed to only require a three-fifths vote of the Senate in 1975.
So, as it stands today, sixty Senators are required to end a filibuster and bring a bill up for vote. Although a majority vote of fifty-one still passes a bill from the Senate, this vote of sixty is necessary for almost any major partisan legislation, forcing the largest Senatorial battles and darkest back-room deals to occur before a bill is even debated. For all intents and purposes, any major piece of legislation needs sixty votes, not fifty-one, to pass through the Senate.
The filibuster, and the vote of cloture needed to break it, is an oft-debated topic when discussing the rules of the United States Senate. I argue that, while this rule can be defended from certain theoretical standpoints – namely Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s general will – it ultimately lacks the sufficient theoretical basis to be a rule central to the operation of what is often called the greatest deliberative body in the world, as can be shown by the arguments of John Locke. I will briefly explore the history and logistics of the filibuster and the vote of cloture, offer theoretical arguments for this rule, and finally prove that it does indeed lack a sufficient theoretical basis and should be terminated.
The filibuster has been in existence as long as the Senate itself. Originally, it could be employed by Representatives as well, but the size of that institution soon made it necessary to restrict debate, and the rule was abolished. Essentially, the filibuster allows any Senator to hold the floor for an unlimited amount of time and therefore block a vote on a bill. The record for longest filibuster is more than twenty-four hours. In this form, the filibuster essentially allowed for a minority of even one Senator to completely stop the passage of major legislation with wide-spread public support. This unabashed possibility of a minority “hostage situation” prompted the institution of Rule Twenty-Two in 1917. This rule allowed for the first vote of cloture. This was a two-thirds vote of the Senate to end debate and immediately bring a bill up for vote. However, this two-thirds “super majority” was far too difficult to come by, and cloture was used extremely rarely for the next five decades. For this reason, cloture was changed to only require a three-fifths vote of the Senate in 1975.
So, as it stands today, sixty Senators are required to end a filibuster and bring a bill up for vote. Although a majority vote of fifty-one still passes a bill from the Senate, this vote of sixty is necessary for almost any major partisan legislation, forcing the largest Senatorial battles and darkest back-room deals to occur before a bill is even debated. For all intents and purposes, any major piece of legislation needs sixty votes, not fifty-one, to pass through the Senate.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Reflections
It’s been a while since I’ve put anything personal on here. Admittedly, it’s been a while since I’ve put anything on here, but this won’t be political or science-y or anything. Just a warning though, my next series is about the theoretical basis of the filibuster, so this is to balance that out in a way.
When I came down to IU, I didn’t think I’d leave feeling like this. I never thought leaving here would be harder than leaving home. I was dead wrong. This year has been incredible. I’ve learned so much about life, people, meaning, communication, and, most importantly, myself.
I’ve always thought I knew who I was. If nothing else, I was aware of who I was. I wasn’t always confident being that person though. I don’t think I was fake, just “toned down” a bit for a long time. No more. I’m immensely confident with who I am now. I do some really, really stupid things, I’m far too stubborn, I’m generally impatient, I can be a bit overbearing, I get extreme tunnel-vision at times, and I’m often overconfident. But I’m passionate, I’m caring, I love to learn, I want to help, I want to improve, I want to love, and I don’t mind fighting. And you know what? I’m okay with all of that.
If there’s one axiom I’ve embraced above all else this past year, it’s this: I would rather try to fly and fall than stay grounded. I’ve tried to fly many times this past year. Sometimes, I did. I had some experiences this past year that still seem surreal. But sometimes I fell. Hard. There are times where I still don’t know what I was thinking. But, in the end, I think I learned more from the falls than the flights.
You learn about yourself when it’s 2 a.m. and you can’t sleep because you’re miserable or completely stressed or just plain scared because of something you did or something that happened. It’s like what Pappy always used to say when I would get passed at the mile or start to fall back at the 2: “How do react, Whammy?!” I’m proud to say I think I’ve reacted quite well; after all, some of those flights occurred very soon after the falls.
Although I did learn a great deal about myself – found myself, even – through all of this, the best part of this year has been being a brother. When you start pledging a co-ed professional business fraternity, you aren’t really sure how legit the whole “brotherhood” thing can be, especially for an only child. Well, it’s legit. I don’t just call these people my brothers as a title, I mean it. I’m really not sure what I’m going to do this summer without these people that I’ve been through so much with day in and day out; they really are my family down here. I’m certainly not looking forward to that, but I am looking forward to 3 more years. Yeah AKPsi!
All-in-all, I wouldn’t trade a single one of my experiences this past year for the world. I wish it never had to end, but all good things… I am definitely looking forward to 3 more amazing years here at IU though. I’m excited for what I’ll be able to do and see, and to see how I grow even more. This has been experience, and the best part is that it’s only just beginning.
When I came down to IU, I didn’t think I’d leave feeling like this. I never thought leaving here would be harder than leaving home. I was dead wrong. This year has been incredible. I’ve learned so much about life, people, meaning, communication, and, most importantly, myself.
I’ve always thought I knew who I was. If nothing else, I was aware of who I was. I wasn’t always confident being that person though. I don’t think I was fake, just “toned down” a bit for a long time. No more. I’m immensely confident with who I am now. I do some really, really stupid things, I’m far too stubborn, I’m generally impatient, I can be a bit overbearing, I get extreme tunnel-vision at times, and I’m often overconfident. But I’m passionate, I’m caring, I love to learn, I want to help, I want to improve, I want to love, and I don’t mind fighting. And you know what? I’m okay with all of that.
If there’s one axiom I’ve embraced above all else this past year, it’s this: I would rather try to fly and fall than stay grounded. I’ve tried to fly many times this past year. Sometimes, I did. I had some experiences this past year that still seem surreal. But sometimes I fell. Hard. There are times where I still don’t know what I was thinking. But, in the end, I think I learned more from the falls than the flights.
You learn about yourself when it’s 2 a.m. and you can’t sleep because you’re miserable or completely stressed or just plain scared because of something you did or something that happened. It’s like what Pappy always used to say when I would get passed at the mile or start to fall back at the 2: “How do react, Whammy?!” I’m proud to say I think I’ve reacted quite well; after all, some of those flights occurred very soon after the falls.
Although I did learn a great deal about myself – found myself, even – through all of this, the best part of this year has been being a brother. When you start pledging a co-ed professional business fraternity, you aren’t really sure how legit the whole “brotherhood” thing can be, especially for an only child. Well, it’s legit. I don’t just call these people my brothers as a title, I mean it. I’m really not sure what I’m going to do this summer without these people that I’ve been through so much with day in and day out; they really are my family down here. I’m certainly not looking forward to that, but I am looking forward to 3 more years. Yeah AKPsi!
All-in-all, I wouldn’t trade a single one of my experiences this past year for the world. I wish it never had to end, but all good things… I am definitely looking forward to 3 more amazing years here at IU though. I’m excited for what I’ll be able to do and see, and to see how I grow even more. This has been experience, and the best part is that it’s only just beginning.
Friday, March 12, 2010
America Falling: The Classics
Admittedly, no classical philosopher ever addressed social capital in so many words; the term was coined in 1916. However, they did certainly address the concepts of social connectedness and political involvement, which are integral factors in the idea of social capital. I have already made mention of several of these ideas, from Plato’s emphasis on discussion to Aristotle’s idea that social connectedness is essential for anyone to be considered part of the state. Furthermore, he remarked that “…anyone who is without a city-state… is either a poor specimen or else superhuman”. Aristotle would likely find many, many “poor specimens” in America. Also, along with Plato’s emphasis on discussion, he said “…it may even be impious to have breath in one’s body and the ability to speak and yet sit idly by and not defend justice when it is being prosecuted”. This speaks not only to his view on the essentiality of discussion and discourse, but also of a view on the necessity of political engagement and knowledge that was so prevalent in the Greek society.
This was not Plato’s only allusion to the importance of political knowledge. He devotes a large section of his Republic to simply discussing what type of education is necessary for the development of a city’s guardians; it should come as no surprise that how they should be educated in politics was central in this discussion. Niccolo Machiavelli also placed great emphasis on political education, saying that a principle reason the Romans were more virtuous than the Italians was because of the different emphases of their education systems. Finally, Aristotle remarked that “…being able to do both [rule and be ruled] is held to be the virtue of a citizen”. As I have made clear, by virtue of their lack of knowledge, the majority of Americans most certainly do not have the ability to rule, and therefore lack this principle virtue of citizenry. So, since these classic thinkers would obviously be appalled at America’s current condition, what advice might they offer to get America once again on the right track?
As far as social capital goes, it is difficult to discern any concrete advice the classics may offer. The reasons for this decline, as I have pointed out, would never have even occurred to them. That being said, I do think that they would argue for a new medium of civil engagement. The internet is obviously failing as this kind of medium. They may argue for a return to the old medium, but the face-to-face, personal interaction of days past is, like it or not, becoming less and less practical in today’s society. So, I think that what is needed, and what the classics would agree with, is for some new, relevant medium to be implemented. Specific solutions are beyond the scope of this essay – and beyond the scope of my knowledge in general – but I believe this to be an endeavor worth undertaking for those who are able.
However, I do believe that the classics would offer some more concrete solutions in regards to America’s declining political knowledge. Although, as Machiavelli said, “one cannot have all the good qualities, nor always act in a praiseworthy fashion, for we do not live in an ideal world”, I do believe that there are several steps Americans can take to become more praiseworthy in this area. First, it starts with education. As I have said, the classics put great emphasis on education, and, as I have also said, America’s is obviously failing in this regard. The American political system cannot be boiled down to just one high school class; it must permeate itself into every year of American education so that citizens develop to truly understand its importance and nuance. Secondly, Americans must stop relying so much on opinion leaders. While some praise their reliance on opinion leaders as the salvation of the republic, Plato says that “opinion forcibly overcomes truth and controls happiness”. Also, Aristotle opines that “practical wisdom is not the virtue of one who is ruled, but true opinion is”. So, I believe that by allowing the opinions of others to control their own political opinions, Americans are sacrificing the truth, and their own happiness, as well as ignoring yet another of the principle virtues of citizenry. They must begin to form their own opinions, to express them to one another in meaningful ways, and, most importantly, to truly act on them.
Terrorism is not the greatest threat to America. Neither is liberalism, nor conservatism, nor wingnuts, nor Christians, nor Muslims, nor homosexuals, nor any other specific demographic. The greatest threat to America is the American people themselves, as a collective whole. Specifically, it is their apathy towards the issues I have tackled in this essay. Reform in these areas is essential, and, thankfully, it is possible. However, reform will take the effort of America as a whole, and it will take time. But, if America is to return to being a model democratic republic, viewed once again today as many of the classics viewed Rome, the effort must be made and the time must be invested.
This was not Plato’s only allusion to the importance of political knowledge. He devotes a large section of his Republic to simply discussing what type of education is necessary for the development of a city’s guardians; it should come as no surprise that how they should be educated in politics was central in this discussion. Niccolo Machiavelli also placed great emphasis on political education, saying that a principle reason the Romans were more virtuous than the Italians was because of the different emphases of their education systems. Finally, Aristotle remarked that “…being able to do both [rule and be ruled] is held to be the virtue of a citizen”. As I have made clear, by virtue of their lack of knowledge, the majority of Americans most certainly do not have the ability to rule, and therefore lack this principle virtue of citizenry. So, since these classic thinkers would obviously be appalled at America’s current condition, what advice might they offer to get America once again on the right track?
As far as social capital goes, it is difficult to discern any concrete advice the classics may offer. The reasons for this decline, as I have pointed out, would never have even occurred to them. That being said, I do think that they would argue for a new medium of civil engagement. The internet is obviously failing as this kind of medium. They may argue for a return to the old medium, but the face-to-face, personal interaction of days past is, like it or not, becoming less and less practical in today’s society. So, I think that what is needed, and what the classics would agree with, is for some new, relevant medium to be implemented. Specific solutions are beyond the scope of this essay – and beyond the scope of my knowledge in general – but I believe this to be an endeavor worth undertaking for those who are able.
However, I do believe that the classics would offer some more concrete solutions in regards to America’s declining political knowledge. Although, as Machiavelli said, “one cannot have all the good qualities, nor always act in a praiseworthy fashion, for we do not live in an ideal world”, I do believe that there are several steps Americans can take to become more praiseworthy in this area. First, it starts with education. As I have said, the classics put great emphasis on education, and, as I have also said, America’s is obviously failing in this regard. The American political system cannot be boiled down to just one high school class; it must permeate itself into every year of American education so that citizens develop to truly understand its importance and nuance. Secondly, Americans must stop relying so much on opinion leaders. While some praise their reliance on opinion leaders as the salvation of the republic, Plato says that “opinion forcibly overcomes truth and controls happiness”. Also, Aristotle opines that “practical wisdom is not the virtue of one who is ruled, but true opinion is”. So, I believe that by allowing the opinions of others to control their own political opinions, Americans are sacrificing the truth, and their own happiness, as well as ignoring yet another of the principle virtues of citizenry. They must begin to form their own opinions, to express them to one another in meaningful ways, and, most importantly, to truly act on them.
Terrorism is not the greatest threat to America. Neither is liberalism, nor conservatism, nor wingnuts, nor Christians, nor Muslims, nor homosexuals, nor any other specific demographic. The greatest threat to America is the American people themselves, as a collective whole. Specifically, it is their apathy towards the issues I have tackled in this essay. Reform in these areas is essential, and, thankfully, it is possible. However, reform will take the effort of America as a whole, and it will take time. But, if America is to return to being a model democratic republic, viewed once again today as many of the classics viewed Rome, the effort must be made and the time must be invested.
Monday, March 8, 2010
America Falling: Political Knowledge
I find it odd that Americans seem to know so little about politics. With the popularity of the 24-hour news cycle, the exploding blogosphere, and the increasing weight of public opinion on Washington, you would be forgiven for thinking that American’s are more politically savvy than ever before. They are not. Aside from the knowledge test I mentioned earlier, only sixty-nine percent of Americans could identify the current Vice President in 2007. Even worse, only forty-nine percent could identify the much-more-powerful Speaker of the House. If Americans can’t even name powerful figures in their government, how can they possibly be expected to understand the major issues of the day and make informed decisions at the polls, much less carry on intelligent and meaningful conversations on those topics? Plato said of one such conversation, that of the meaning and importance of justice in society, “what subject could a person with any sense enjoy talking and hearing about more often?” It would appear, then, that Americans today are quite senseless.
However, it has not always been that way. Nearly every type of political knowledge question was more often answered correctly in 1989 than in 2007. I find this morbidly ironic; in 2007, there were countless more ways to learn the kind of information asked about than in 1989, and yet American political knowledge indeed proved to be declining. I also attribute this to the decline of social capital. Americans simply weren’t discussing these things in 2007 as much as in 1989, as I have said before. Now, the question must be asked, why is this decline in American political knowledge so alarmingly important?
In short, political knowledge is the crux on which a successful republic rests. Alexander Hamilton once said “the voice of the people is the voice of God.". Aristotle said that “when they all come together, their perception is adequate. Taken individually, however, each of them is an imperfect judge." Obviously, he recognized that no citizen can be perfectly informed or knowledgeable politically, but each should be informed or knowledgeable enough to contribute to a correct, collective decision. America, however, fails this idea on two counts. First, as I have already pointed out, American opinion in elections is not even close to full; recently, nearly forty percent of that opinion is missing. Secondly, as I have also said, far too few Americans can even name the Vice President of Speaker of the House, so their voice is obviously neither collective nor knowledgeable.
The importance of political knowledge to a republic simply cannot be stressed enough, but America seems content in thinking that a government or civics class in high school is enough to properly inform and educate its citizens. This is obviously faulty thinking, yet no one seems to care enough to earnestly address it. However, many classical thinkers did, if indirectly, offer comments on the importance of social capital and political knowledge. So, now that I have explored the problems and significances of America’s declining social capital and political knowledge, I will attempt to discern what commentary and advice the classical philosophers and political thinkers might give toward these situations, starting with social capital.
However, it has not always been that way. Nearly every type of political knowledge question was more often answered correctly in 1989 than in 2007. I find this morbidly ironic; in 2007, there were countless more ways to learn the kind of information asked about than in 1989, and yet American political knowledge indeed proved to be declining. I also attribute this to the decline of social capital. Americans simply weren’t discussing these things in 2007 as much as in 1989, as I have said before. Now, the question must be asked, why is this decline in American political knowledge so alarmingly important?
In short, political knowledge is the crux on which a successful republic rests. Alexander Hamilton once said “the voice of the people is the voice of God.". Aristotle said that “when they all come together, their perception is adequate. Taken individually, however, each of them is an imperfect judge." Obviously, he recognized that no citizen can be perfectly informed or knowledgeable politically, but each should be informed or knowledgeable enough to contribute to a correct, collective decision. America, however, fails this idea on two counts. First, as I have already pointed out, American opinion in elections is not even close to full; recently, nearly forty percent of that opinion is missing. Secondly, as I have also said, far too few Americans can even name the Vice President of Speaker of the House, so their voice is obviously neither collective nor knowledgeable.
The importance of political knowledge to a republic simply cannot be stressed enough, but America seems content in thinking that a government or civics class in high school is enough to properly inform and educate its citizens. This is obviously faulty thinking, yet no one seems to care enough to earnestly address it. However, many classical thinkers did, if indirectly, offer comments on the importance of social capital and political knowledge. So, now that I have explored the problems and significances of America’s declining social capital and political knowledge, I will attempt to discern what commentary and advice the classical philosophers and political thinkers might give toward these situations, starting with social capital.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
America Falling: Social Capital
To fully understand the gravity of these declines, we must first look at the history of these factors in American politics, as well as the general significance of social capital and political knowledge. Starting with social capital, I will first look at how, specifically, it has declined in America, what may account for these declines, and why these declines matter for American society. In regards to election turnout, what one researcher calls the "...most studied, most conjectured, and most important trend in the study of American government”, the figures are simply alarming. Although much of the data is incomplete and conjectural at best, most experts estimate that voter turnout was highest – hovering around eighty percent – in the second half of the nineteenth century. Comparing this data with the data from 2008, which is itself a forty year high, the twenty percent difference is incredible (McDonald). There are countless factors at play, but what is alarmingly clear is that ridiculously low numbers of eligible Americans find voting for their country’s chief executive not worth their time.
The decline, however, doesn’t stop with voter turnout; it has permeated itself in almost all aspects of American civil action. Fewer Americans now attend church than ever before, union membership is declining at an alarming rate, and even the Boy Scouts and Red Cross are becoming much smaller. Regardless of your feelings about these organizations, it is objectively disturbing that so many Americans are leaving them. They may be slightly less effective or relevant in today’s society, but I do not believe that they are so ineffective or irrelevant that those factors alone account for the decline in membership. What does account for the decline, in my opinion, is the technological revolution of the past two decades. From just my cell phone or computer, I can find out how my friends feel, what they are thinking, what they are doing, and even where, exactly, they are. I can simply send my Congressman any number of generic, pre-generated e-mails to tell them how I think they should vote on a certain bill. I can broadcast my opinions to the world, and read the broadcasted opinions of others, from the comfort of my computer chair. This is the new civic engagement, and it effectively renders much of the “old” definition of social capital irrelevant to today’s society.
In contrast, that “old” social capital is far from irrelevant. Clicking a button to join a group or show support for a cause does little to advance the mission of that group or cause except to give it slightly more clout by virtue of social proof. Just imagine if every member of “1,000,000 Strong for Health Care Reform” or T. Boone Pickens’ “New Energy Army” (more than 1.5 million people) marched on Washington. What if they even simply met in a town hall or some other organized setting every month? The face of American politics, and possibly even America itself, would almost certainly be much different. Furthermore, not much real discussion occurs through these new mediums, at least not nearly as much as occurred in the “old” forms of civic engagement. Even Plato must have understood the importance of a quality, face-to-face discussion on political or philosophical issues, considering that he chose to almost exclusively write dialogues.
It seems that Americans truly find the old social capital irrelevant in their society. This is the social capital that Robert Putnam argues is integral to the quality of public life, the performance of all social institutions, faster economic development, and more effective government. This is the kind of civil activity that Aristotle argues is necessary to even be considered part of the state. So, if indeed social capital is as important as others and I have argued, then America may soon see its decline of social capital lead to a decline in its global prominence and respect. Now that the problem and significance of America’s declining social capital has been explored, I will turn to the problem and significance of America’s waning political knowledge.
The decline, however, doesn’t stop with voter turnout; it has permeated itself in almost all aspects of American civil action. Fewer Americans now attend church than ever before, union membership is declining at an alarming rate, and even the Boy Scouts and Red Cross are becoming much smaller. Regardless of your feelings about these organizations, it is objectively disturbing that so many Americans are leaving them. They may be slightly less effective or relevant in today’s society, but I do not believe that they are so ineffective or irrelevant that those factors alone account for the decline in membership. What does account for the decline, in my opinion, is the technological revolution of the past two decades. From just my cell phone or computer, I can find out how my friends feel, what they are thinking, what they are doing, and even where, exactly, they are. I can simply send my Congressman any number of generic, pre-generated e-mails to tell them how I think they should vote on a certain bill. I can broadcast my opinions to the world, and read the broadcasted opinions of others, from the comfort of my computer chair. This is the new civic engagement, and it effectively renders much of the “old” definition of social capital irrelevant to today’s society.
In contrast, that “old” social capital is far from irrelevant. Clicking a button to join a group or show support for a cause does little to advance the mission of that group or cause except to give it slightly more clout by virtue of social proof. Just imagine if every member of “1,000,000 Strong for Health Care Reform” or T. Boone Pickens’ “New Energy Army” (more than 1.5 million people) marched on Washington. What if they even simply met in a town hall or some other organized setting every month? The face of American politics, and possibly even America itself, would almost certainly be much different. Furthermore, not much real discussion occurs through these new mediums, at least not nearly as much as occurred in the “old” forms of civic engagement. Even Plato must have understood the importance of a quality, face-to-face discussion on political or philosophical issues, considering that he chose to almost exclusively write dialogues.
It seems that Americans truly find the old social capital irrelevant in their society. This is the social capital that Robert Putnam argues is integral to the quality of public life, the performance of all social institutions, faster economic development, and more effective government. This is the kind of civil activity that Aristotle argues is necessary to even be considered part of the state. So, if indeed social capital is as important as others and I have argued, then America may soon see its decline of social capital lead to a decline in its global prominence and respect. Now that the problem and significance of America’s declining social capital has been explored, I will turn to the problem and significance of America’s waning political knowledge.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
America Falling: Introduction
I'm back. Obviously, this isn't much of a weekly column anymore, but the name is catchy, so I'm not gonna change it. This is the introduction to a series about the two things I am most civilly passionate about: social capital and political knowledge in America. Enjoy.
In recent decades, American social capital has fallen to alarmingly low levels that would make classic political thinkers roll in their graves. Also, Americans perform abysmally on any kind of political knowledge test. These situations have implications on everything from the face of American politics to America’s leverage on the global economy, making them issues that absolutely must be addressed. However, nobody in Washington is attempting to address them, and there are now major grassroots movements attempting to increase American social capital or political knowledge. The raw statistics on these issues truly tell a story of a falling America.
On November 4, 2008, 61.7 percent of eligible Americans cast their vote for President of the United States (McDonald). Although markedly higher than other recent Presidential election turnouts, It is still extremely low in comparison to many European countries and, more importantly, early American voting turnout. Only thirteen percent of Americans in 1993 reported that they had attended a public meeting on town or school affairs (Putnam). Perhaps this would be understandable today, since the internet allows immediate access to information and immediate communication, but this survey is from before the early days of the web. Finally, according to the Pew Research Center for People and the Press, only thirty-five percent of Americans score in the “high” category (at least fifteen correct answers to twenty-three questions) on a comprehensive, but relatively basic, political knowledge test. That means only slightly more than a third of American adults can score a “D” on a basic test about important people and issues of their country. In the rest of this series, I will further explore these and other statistics, analyze their meaning for America today, and attempt to provide some classical interpretation and commentary on these pressing issues.
In recent decades, American social capital has fallen to alarmingly low levels that would make classic political thinkers roll in their graves. Also, Americans perform abysmally on any kind of political knowledge test. These situations have implications on everything from the face of American politics to America’s leverage on the global economy, making them issues that absolutely must be addressed. However, nobody in Washington is attempting to address them, and there are now major grassroots movements attempting to increase American social capital or political knowledge. The raw statistics on these issues truly tell a story of a falling America.
On November 4, 2008, 61.7 percent of eligible Americans cast their vote for President of the United States (McDonald). Although markedly higher than other recent Presidential election turnouts, It is still extremely low in comparison to many European countries and, more importantly, early American voting turnout. Only thirteen percent of Americans in 1993 reported that they had attended a public meeting on town or school affairs (Putnam). Perhaps this would be understandable today, since the internet allows immediate access to information and immediate communication, but this survey is from before the early days of the web. Finally, according to the Pew Research Center for People and the Press, only thirty-five percent of Americans score in the “high” category (at least fifteen correct answers to twenty-three questions) on a comprehensive, but relatively basic, political knowledge test. That means only slightly more than a third of American adults can score a “D” on a basic test about important people and issues of their country. In the rest of this series, I will further explore these and other statistics, analyze their meaning for America today, and attempt to provide some classical interpretation and commentary on these pressing issues.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
