Showing posts with label Machiavelli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Machiavelli. Show all posts

Monday, June 1, 2015

Political Morality & Natural Right



I have been writing furiously in recent days, trying to complete my chapter in the Handbook of Biology and Ethics.  I am writing on political ethics, a branch of political science dealing with the ethics of process (what political actors may do in the conduct of their offices) and the ethics of policy (what ends political actors should pursue).  One might ask why political ethics is not a branch of ethics generally, which is under the umbrella of modern philosophy. 
As an unreconstructed Platonist, I won’t settle for the easy answer (we had to put it somewhere).  I look for some key idea that links it back to politics proper rather than to modern ethics which is concerned above all with how individuals should act.  I find that idea in the distinction between public and private morality.  Almost everyone acknowledges this distinction.  Acts that would be condemned as kidnapping or murder are considered legitimate cases of imprisonment and execution if they are done with political authority. 
This distinction is very old.  Plato’s noble lie is noble because it justifies the distribution of authority in the best regime by a lie about the distribution of virtuous souls.  Aristotle acknowledges (with neither endorsement nor condemnation) that the ostracism (or murder) of certain individuals may be necessary in certain regimes, if those individuals cannot be assimilated to the social arrangement.  Machiavelli elevates the distinction to the foundation of true virtue.  The virtue of princes is the genuine article.  It is the power to create and ruthlessly employ armed power.  Such power alone can create law and order, upon which the artificial, make believe virtue of ordinary citizens and subjects depends. 
The modern distinction between public and private morality follows Machiavelli in assuming that, prior to the establishment of civil society, human beings are free to do pretty much whatever they please (and is in their power to do).  When they enter into civil society, individuals surrender that power to the sovereign.  Hobbes and Spinoza think that this necessarily means that the sovereign power is under no moral constraints.  Since there is no natural or divine morality effective over men, absolute power has to reside somewhere.  Locke argued that a basic moral sense is present even in the state of nature and that it is precisely this moral sense (expressed as righteous indignation) that necessitates the establishment of governments.  I believe that, but I am not sure that Locke believed it.  At any rate, the idea that individuals cede their natural liberty to government is the foundation of the modern idea that government can do what private individuals are morally forbidden to do. 
The modern argument, resisting on the idea that government is representative of its subjects, is plausible.  However, since the ancients also drew such a distinction without relying on the notion of representation, I think that the basic idea must be deeper than that. 
The ancient philosophers supposed that human beings are moral and political animals by nature.  The family and small bands of families (hunter-gatherers?) are societies that human beings form as much by nature as animals gather in herds.  Early modern political thought began by viewing human beings as individuals and all social interaction, beyond the most explicitly biological and temporary ones, as artificial.  Both the ancients and the moderns agree on one thing: genuinely political societies, with laws and offices, are in some sense artificial.  Political communities may allow human excellence to be fully expressed, as Plato and Aristotle thought.  Or, they may merely supply the defects of the state of nature, as Hobbes and Spinoza thought.  Either way, political regimes are the result of human artifice.  If they are not founded deliberately, they emerge from the deliberate attempt to solve ever present problems. 
Here, biopolitics and the biosocial sciences generally, have something to say.  Human beings “were not adapted for large-scale, anonymous collaboration” as Emily Wyman and Michael Tomasello say in their contribution to the Oxford Handbook of Evolutionary Psychology.  Such societies emerged too recently for that, over the last ten thousand years.  To have laws and offices, someone has to have the leisure to make the one and fill the other.  The first cities depended on the material surpluses made possible by settled agriculture and animal husbandry and the cultural advances underwritten by the exchange of technologies and goods across great distances.  Once such communities arose, the history of human animals gave way to human history. 
As I happen to like living in the 21st century, I am glad that all that happened in its course.  We are much more interesting animals than once we were.  It happened, however, at a terrible cost.  For most the last 10,000 years, a few people ate high on the hog while most people got barely enough to make it through another day of labor.  At any rate, political societies made human beings far more dependent on one another for both sustenance and security and the latter because they made human beings far more dangerous to one another. 
As Rousseau ruefully acknowledged, there is no going back.  Even if we would all be better off herding sheep and gathering roots, we ain’t gonna.  I am hopeful that human progress will continue and that the future will be better than we can yet imagine.  Meanwhile, some regimes are better than others, and almost any regime is better than a collapsing regime.  If you don’t believe me, ask someone in Benghazi. 
I suspect that the distinction between public and private morality is rooted in the fact that our natural moral emotions have been shaped by natural selection for pre-political communities.  Plato’s Socrates argues in the Republic that the truly natural human community is the city of pigs, a community devoted to the satisfaction of largely natural desires: food, shelter, basic comfort and social intercourse.  Political communities offer human beings much more than this: leisure, surplus, arts and sciences, etc.  To get such communities, however, we have to build artificial institutions out of the natural moral inclinations that we have to work with.  In natural communities morality is enforced by social sanction alone.  In political communities, morality requires a sovereign power with all the distinctions in status that that implies. 
The “problem of dirty hands,” which means the occasional necessity for doing morally reprehensible things for the sake of the regime, is a consequence of the awesome power of political regimes.  Yes, they give human beings much more than nature can provide.  They also create terrible possibilities.  No hunter-gatherer community could produce a Hitler, or Stalin, or Kim.  Winston Churchill had to refrain from warning a British town that it was about to be bombed or else risk the success of the D-Day invasion by tipping off the Germans that we had deciphered their coded communications.  I think he was right to do so, but what a burden! 
According to legend, a Jewish army was once wiped out because it refused to fight on the Sabbath.  A suspension of ordinary law was required.  Human beings are moral animals.  Any decent regime must respect and incorporate natural right.  When we must do things that offend natural right, the only justification can be that it is necessary to protect a regime where such natural justice is possible.  The Jews reached the same conclusion.  Sometimes the law must be put aside if only for the survival of the community that cherishes the law. 

Friday, January 17, 2014

Machiavelli & the State of Nature



Ms. Flint, as is her habit, asked a provocative question in reply to my last post on Machiavelli.  I suspect she already knows the answer, but it is worth commenting on here.  My post ended with this:
Machiavelli [in contrast to Aristotle]… does not believe in any order that emerges from nature.  He supposes that all order is imposed by human will.  That, ultimately, is what he means by virtue.  Whereas the ancients had supposed that virtue lay in the perfection of natural human propensities, Machiavelli supposes that it lies in certain human characters that enable their possessors to impose their will on their surroundings. 

There is then a state of nature theory implied here.  The state of nature is all disorder and chaos.  Order and hence justice and the common good can be achieved by conquering fortune. 
Ms. Flint then asks:
But is Machiavelli really proposing something different from the state of nature, then? As I understand it (and perhaps my understanding is wrong) in the state of nature, "might makes right". If that is what naturally happens, what is Machiavelli proposing that is different?
This is a very good question.  If the prince (or the republic) must act without any moral restraint in order to preserve law and order, can the state of civil society that results be said to be different from a state of nature?  I submit that Machiavelli would say “yes, and no”. 
What makes it possible for two human beings to genuinely trust one another?  Perhaps the only thing that can do that is fear of a higher power.  That would explain the ancient customs of swearing an oath before the gods, putting one’s hands on a Bible before testimony, or retreating into a temple for sanctuary. 
Interestingly, evolutionary psychology has done a lot of work on this.  Many ancient religions involve what are called signaling costs.  Sacrifices to the gods, painful rituals (circumcision comes to mind) have a profound social function: they demonstrate to others that you genuinely fear the invisible powers.  That makes you look like a trustworthy candidate for partnerships.  It is possible that one can only leave the state of nature by means of accepting a state of grace, or to put it less poetically but more precisely, if everyone believes that transgressions will be punished by divine sanction. 
Machiavelli does not believe in invisible powers and he does not believe that belief in such powers is enough to render men civil.  All law and order are imposed by the ruthless power of some prince and it is maintained in the same way.  Machiavellian virtĂş is the capacity, present in some human beings, to impose dominion on human beings.  So it is true to say that “might makes right” for Machiavelli, in the sense that human might alone can literally generate right or justice and so necessarily comes before and is not restrained by justice.  However, the virtue of princes is not the same as the virtue of subjects and citizens.  The prince must frequently act without faith, charity, pity, or religion, but he must seem to observe all of these things for he wants his subjects to observe them.  He wants to impose the king’s peace on the people, for a law abiding and prosperous society is a source of his wealth and power. 
Machiavelli’s disciple, Thomas Hobbes, set out to legalize Machiavelli’s thought.  Hobbes held that the state of nature and likewise the state of civil society are nothing more than relationships between two or more human beings.  If you and I have fear nothing of gods nor princes, we can get away with anything we might do to one another.  Thus we have to fear one another, and that is the state of nature.  If we can trust one another, it is only because there is a prince standing over us who can hurt either of us if we step out of line.  That is a state of civil society. 
It follows that whenever two human beings are under the authority of a prince, then they are in a state of civil society vis-Ă -vis one another.  That state of civil society is indeed different from the state of nature.  However, each of us remains in a state of nature vis-Ă -vis the prince.  There is no higher power keeping him in line.  Likewise, all princes are in a state of nature vis-Ă -vis one another.  They cannot but mistrust one another and are always in a state of war, hot or cold. 
Hobbes anticipates Miranda’s question and offers an answer.  He believed that all government was by definition absolute, since moral restraint was possible only by people under such a power.  Both Hobbes and Machiavelli believed that human beings are by nature amoral.  Morality and justice are necessarily artificial, imposed by a ruthless will. 
They got it wrong.  Locke got it right.  Human beings are moral animals.  Our sense of justice is just as much a part of our nature as our capacity for language.  We have a natural inclination to recognize and punish transgressions.  I think that modern biopolitical theory backs up Locke.  All human government requires violent power; however, that power works precisely because of human nature and not against it.  The origin of government lies not (or not merely) in mutual fear and desire for dominion; it lies in our capacity for righteous indignation. 
I think that this explains why Locke’s political thought is more decent, more productive of genuine civility, than that of his predecessors.  I will have more on this later. 

Friday, January 10, 2014

Machiavelli



Machiavelli has been called the first modern and the last ancient.  I hold with the former view, which was advanced most forcefully by Leo Strauss.  Like Hobbes and Locke, Machiavelli’s thought is embedded in the politics of his time.  At first glance it would appear to be simply political.  After all, The Prince is presented as a job application.  Nonetheless, its structure is that of a general meditation on the nature of politics and it implies a comprehensive view of man on earth. 
This is evident in the very beginning of The Prince, where Niccolò offers a cladogram of regimes.  This is, again at first glance, a very classical thing to do.  Nothing is more classical than to begin with a very broad category and then break it down into a cascade of subcategories.  Another strategy is to organize something according to two variables (or two questions, as it were). 
Take for example Aristotle’s classification of regimes.  He asks two questions: who rules and is the rule exercised for the sake of the whole or for the sake of rulers alone?  We get the following structure:
            Private interest        Public interest
One     tyranny                      kingship
Few     oligarchy                   aristocracy
Many  democracy                 republic
In this scheme, regimes are divided into two sets (good and bad) and distributed according to how wide the franchise is.  It allows Aristotle to draw a very interesting conclusion.  The worst regime is tyranny and the best is kingship, assuming the best ruler.  Aristotle more or less agrees with Plato in this regard.  However of the good regimes, aristocracies are more stable than kingships and the republic is most stable of all, if stability increases as the base widens.  This reminds one of the saying that the perfect is the enemy of the good. 
Aristotle’s classification is a natural order that emerges from the facts of human society (what kinds of authority are possible) and the human need for government.  It implies, as all ancient philosophy did, that the natural order is authoritative.  What is good may be recognized and adopted, but not created, by human beings. 
Now consider what Machiavelli does. 
All states, all dominions that have had and have empire over men, are either republics or principalities.  Principalities are either hereditary, in which the blood of the lord has been prince for a long time or they are new.  The new are either altogether new, as was Milan for Francesco Sforza, or they are as members attached to the hereditary state of the prince who acquires them, as was Naples to the King of Spain.  Dominions thus acquired are either accustomed to living under a prince or are used to being free.  They are acquired either with arms of others or one’s own, either with fortune or with virtue. 
It cannot be overemphasized how shattering this is.  Machiavelli’s first division seems to preserve the classical approach.  In a republic, the state is public property.  The dominion belongs to the thing created by the dominion.  In a principality, the state is private property.  Is the one good and the other bad?  Machiavelli clear prefers republics, but he does so because they are more robust in preserving their power and exercising dominion over others. 
Machiavelli proceeds to divide principalities, the object of his inquiry, not according to who rules or how, but according to how they are acquired.  His chief interest is in the origins of human order and the human powers that make it possible.  He does not believe in any order that emerges from nature.  He supposes that all order is imposed by human will.  That, ultimately, is what he means by virtue.  Whereas the ancients had supposed that virtue lay in the perfection of natural human propensities, Machiavelli supposes that it lies in certain human characters that enable their possessors to impose their will on their surroundings. 
There is then a state of nature theory implied here.  The state of nature is all disorder and chaos.  Order and hence justice and the common good can be achieved by conquering fortune.