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 virtú 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-à-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-à-vis the prince.  There is no higher power keeping him in line.  Likewise, all princes are in a state of nature vis-à-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. 

Friday, January 3, 2014

The State of the State of Nature



It looks like I will be on sabbatical next fall, which is a good thing.  I am working on two research papers: one on the evolution of autonomy (for the International Political Science Association meeting in Montreal) and the other on state of nature theory (for the American Political Science Association meeting in D.C.)  I have also been invited to contribute a chapter to a “handbook of biology and politics” to be published next year.  My chapter will concern political ethics and biology.  My sabbatical will allow me the leisure to work the papers into publishable form and work on the book chapter. 
As it happens, I am teaching modern political philosophy this spring and I decided to introduce a little biopolitics into the course.  My usual list of readings includes Machiavelli’s Prince, Hobbes Leviathan, Locke’s Second Treatise, and Rousseau’s “Discourse on Inequality”.  It occurred to me that the last three, at least, all involve conceptions of the state of nature, i.e. the condition of human beings outside of the influence of government, and that this is something that modern biopolitical theory has something to say about. 
Accordingly I have added Christopher Boehm’s Hierarchy in the Forest: The Evolution of Egalitarian Behavior to the reading list.  I don’t know why this hasn’t occurred to me before now, but I must be on to something.  Boehm mentions Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau in the first few pages of his book.  I plan to focus the presentation of all three authors on the question of how human nature and human action give rise to political societies and what light contemporary biopolitical research sheds on such questions as whether and in what ways human beings are by nature moral or immoral, cooperative or competitive, inclined toward hierarchy or equality.  That is roughly the theme of my APSA paper. 
Treating the early modern state of nature theories in light of contemporary anthropology requires an apology before any jury that is well versed in the former.  Rousseau clearly intended to speculate about the origins of human societies, though he was very careful to warn the reader about just how speculative his account was.  Neither Hobbes nor Locke intended their descriptions of the state of nature to be speculations about prehistorical conditions.  They were abstracting backwards, trying to understand the essential character of government by removing its influence, in thought, from human beings as they knew them to be. 
It occurs to me now that what the early modern philosophers were doing was, rather oddly, the opposite of what Plato did in his two longest dialogues: the Republic and the Laws.  Plato (or his Socrates and Athenian Stranger) tried to understand the nature of politics by abstracting toward a more perfect regime that could exist but that had never existed and probably never would.  Plato removes the imperfections and inconveniences.  The early moderns worked in the opposite direction, imaging a state that may or may not have existed in the past.  The chief difference in the ancients and moderns thus lies in this: the moderns could imagine human beings existing in the absence of laws and government whereas the ancients could not. 
The chief difference between Hobbes and Locke on the one hand and Rousseau on the other is that the former concluded that government and laws marked an improvement in the human condition whereas Rousseau thought pre-civilization was better for all or almost all human beings.  Almost as important, Hobbes and Locke supposed that human beings are naturally social even if they are not naturally political whereas Rousseau concluded that even social interaction beyond the most basic biological needs is an accident of history.  Finally, Hobbes supposed that human beings were by nature amoral and violently competitive.  Government is necessary to manage the violence that results from this.  Locke thought that human beings are by nature moral animals and that our very sense of righteous indignation is what must be managed by government. 
It seems to me that the time has come to work the modern strategy in reverse.  What does contemporary research on the actual condition of man prior to civilization tell us about the nature of politics?  Who is closer to the truth: Plato or the early moderns, Hobbes, Locke, or Rousseau? 
Christopher Boehm believes that human nature includes tendencies both towards hierarchy and egalitarianism.  Once human beings or our ancestors began to live in bands or tribes, powerful and aggressive individuals were naturally inclined to bully others.  These early societies developed in the direction of egalitarianism as the groups came to effectively resist such bullies. 
In egalitarian societies… individuals who otherwise would be subordinated are clever enough to form a large and united political coalition, and they do so for the express purpose of keeping the strong from dominating the weak…
I also incorporate an important evolutionary twist.  Rather than concentrating simply on the effects of human nature on political behavior, I also explore the reverse: the long-term effects of human political behavior on human nature…
My main hypothesis is that egalitarian societies are created and maintained by moral communities. 
Rousseau was wrong.  Human animals became social animals long before they became human.  Locke was closer to the truth than Hobbes, but Hobbes had a point.  Our ancestors were prone to violent competition for resources and status and sought some way to manage such tendencies.  That management was by means of coalitions that were not merely expedient.  They were moral communities, maintained over a long enough period to affect our evolution.  Plato (and I would add, Aristotle) were closer to the truth than the moderns.  Human beings are political animals. 
That is enough for now.  Class doesn’t start for another week.