Politics: The Dangers of Utopia and the Boon of Inefficiency

It is my firm conviction, brought about by the observation of history, that the dreams of Utopians are far more likely to drag us to hell than to build a better world. From Hitler’s Reich to the terrorism of Bin Laden, many of histories greatest evils have come from the pursuit of the perfect world. Really, Utopianism is a kind of hate. It identifies what I see as the perfect state for human kind, it becomes intoxicated with that vision, and then it cannot help but make that the end of all action, and in so doing come to see any who stand in its way as monsters and sinners. We all hope for a better world, that is our nature, and it is a fine thing to strive for that world, to work at it with sweat and tears, and most of all with love. But, when we try and make that world, to forge it by power, to force it on others for their own good, then we become Utopians and we soon become monsters.

The temptation for the Utopian is the temptation to think that the best way to achieve the ideal human circumstances is through exercising the influence of some strong centralized power, most notably that of government. In general, this view seems to arise from the appeal of efficiency. Where a thousand local agencies might work at cross purposes, sabotaging the formation of Utopia, a single central organization can organize these efforts and thereby seemingly better achieve the goal. However, it is precisely this efficiency that makes the temptation to centralization a liability.

At its heart the problem is the limits of our own knowledge, which in turn leads to a deep moral concern. As is frequently mentioned by moral philosophers, there is a great diversity of moral codes present in the world, ranging, for example, from cultures which practice female circumcism to keep women in their “proper” place to those which view women as equal to men. This doesn’t actually, as some claim, lead to the conclusion that the moral ideal is relative, but it does seem to show that it is very easy to go astray. Mistakes in this area are bad on a local and individual level, leading to ruined lives, but they are devastating when made by a centralized power. It is here that the moral problem comes into to the picture, as in the historical case of Soviet Russia, whose attempt to create a Utopia based on their view of flourishing human life led to the deaths of millions, and to economic damage from which the country is still suffering.

Thus, precisely the inefficiency of local attempts to make the world ideal seem to actually make these the ideal case. It is important here to make a distinction between inefficiency and incompetency. Local efforts to build a better world will still ideally make a difference, only doing so more slowly. Those communities which properly understand the good will see their members flourish more, while those which don’t will ultimately run into far more problems. As other communities see the success of the flourishing locality over the others, this will encourage them to adopt similar practices. This is more piecemeal, but it avoids the devastating consequences possible when a mistake is made by centralized power.

This, I argue, is one of many justifications for the distributionist and communitarian state. We cannot afford to build a legal and economic system on the basis of a centralized power that will too easily be co-opted by the machinations of Utopians seeking to make the world a better place… at any cost. In the human world of limited perspective and moral failure, inefficiency is a boon, not a detriment.

Note: Much of what was written here was originally explored by me in a paper for my Metaethics class in the Fall of 2009 (and, hey, I got an A on it, so I must have done something right)

Politics: Distributivism, It's Probably Not What You Think It Is

Politics come up with me in conversation. I don't think I aim for it, but it just seems to happen (so does Religion... thankfully I also seem to have a flame dampener around me... most of the time). 

"I'm a distributivist," I tell them, and, almost inevitably, they think it's some kind of cute term for socialism. It isn't, indeed its quite distinct. Here's a definition, taken from the website of distinguished distributivist John C. Médaille. He's got quite a detailed "encyclopedia of distributivism" if you want to know more.

"an economic theory... [it]ts key tenet is that ownership of the means of production should be as widespread as possible rather than being concentrated in the hands of a few owners (Capitalism) or in the hands of state bureaucrats (Socialism)"

There's of course a lot more to the theory, and it's further tied (typically) to communitarian/localist politics, which hold that government power, as much as possible, should be widespread and distributed (see the connection?). There's many justifications for this view, some practical and others moral. I've talked about it a few times here before, and plan to say more about it in the future, but there's your basic definition.

Theology/Life: He is Risen!

Happy Easter! He is Risen!

Now, I know what at least some of you are probably thinking - Easter was yesterday genius, it's Monday. However, thankfully, that's actually not quite correct. You see, the traditional, liturgical churches divide up the year into a series of seasons, each structured around a part of the Christian story, each speaking to an important part of our journey as believers. The most famous of these seasons is probably Lent, or perhaps Advent (Christmas, though I doubt most people think of the season as a whole as a religious event). However, the whole year has its seasons, and Easter is a full season of its own, lasting from Easter Sunday until the Day of Ascension, as long as the season of Lent before it.

Easter is Lent's mirror. Lent is a time of mourning and reflection, a time of quite contemplation and fasting. As most of you know, it is traditional to give up something we love for Lent, it is an act of submission, a way of realigning oneself with God's story. Lent, Holy Week included, stands as the road to the cross, to the day when (as the wonderful song "In Christ Alone says" ) " in the ground His body lay/ Light of the world by darkness slain."

But Easter season stands on the other End of Christ's Passion, it is the celebration of life, of the fact that the Grave could not hold the King. What is more, Easter proclaims God's promise that He is making everything new, that one day the old order of things, of death, decay, oppression and sin, will pass away and be resurrected in Christ a glorious New Creation. This promise celebrates the goodness of what God has made, from the majestic mountains, to the simple things in life like chocolate, and, yes, even wine.

Because of this fact, N.T. Wright in his wonderful book Surprised by Hope suggests that we start a new tradition. Just as in Lent we gave things up, rejecting the old order of the world, in Easter we should, at least for that season, take up something new as an affirmation of the goodness of what God has made, and an anticipation of what is to come. Of course, this can be something you'd label "spiritual" like a special quite time for prayer, or a regular Bible reading schedule... but it doesn't have to be. The new thing can be a new hobby (maybe you might want to take up drawing like you've always wanted to), a new habit (greeting strangers on the street) or maybe even just learning to appreciate a form of art or food you've never before enjoyed.

Easter is a season of feasting, of celebration, so I challenge you, take up something new. Feast in the goodness of what God has made. I for one am taking up guitar, and I'm also going to let my friend try and infect me with his love of poetry.

Go live and flourish!

HE IS RISEN!

Life: Shifting Mind

It's interesting - I've been going back and labeling some of my older posts that don't currently have labels and I've noticed hos incredibly much my philosophy and especially my politics have shifted over the last couple of years. If for nothing else, that's a good reason to keep a blog.

Poetry: Babel

In my last post I mentioned that I hadn't written any poetry in a long time, with one exception. I figured I'd post that one up too. This one grew out of a random line that struck me (the one about building up Babel towers) and is definitely a first draft so I'd love comments. Also, I should mention, I was reading Byron when I wrote this. 

Babel 

The old and bloody king was slain

His fatted guts upon a field split

His subjects in their shallow graves were lain

And a great and noxious pyre lit

The rotten kingdom was laid low

Our mighty captain was made the lord

Done with war, we set aside the bow

As we into plowshares beat our swords

We gathered up the fallen stones

And melted down the enemies shields

With them we built up our homes

And soon began to work our fields

Never did we sing a mournful dearth

Nor the bells of sadness ring

Happily I plowed the earth

And joyous melodies would sing

My land became my only joy

As thoughts of war turned into dust

Then one day I walked alone

The fetch water from a new dug well

There I met a haggard crone

Her aspect hideous and fell

She told me these had been her husband’s lands

And of the ruin our war had made

She grappled me with pleading hands

and asked me that I lend her aid

Spitting in her face I cried

“How dare you mock our honest war,

I will not help you!” I replied

“you kingless and repulsive whore”

Cursed, she said that I would be

To visions of the future dream

And my eyes the hearts of people see

To understand their horrid scheme

Mocking I returned to hearth and home

Yet fell I into troubled sleep

I dreamed I saw my lord that day

Locked in battle with the wicked king

On and on they danced with feet of clay

With desperate cut and fearsome slashing

Yet at the end the king lay dead

His stomach parted by the blade

The crown my lord placed on his own head

And cried, “A new Kingdom is made”

Then I saw him sweep away the soldiers bones

And said “We shall have glory in our days”

And the cracked and fallen stones

He did a mighty city raise

But then the King’s wounds poured upon the sand

A terrible and crimson flood

That swept across my lord’s new land

Till it became a sea of blood

There I saw my lord’s young bride

Rutting the corpse upon the sanguine shore

Awakened now I go to walk the streets

And hear them say “How like the gods are we”

Boasting of their shallow feats

While they, the murderers, walk free

Young men in Lust’s poison loom

Kiss the women’s tarnished heads

Who with silk and sweet perfume

Draw  them to their husband’s beds

I see their shame and pride are now laid bare

How they, the damned, seek their own glory

While my blackened dreams make me aware

Of how the hollow men shall end their story

Seeing now, I tell them of their coming lot

Yet all my words their hearts deny

“Am I Cassandra that you hear me not?”

Out in the feted streets I cry

While up and up they build their Babel towers

and say “How like the gods are we”

All they’ve built shall fall to  dust and die

For all eternity, like great Ozymandias, to lie

Amidst the blood and rubble will I lay

My heart shall break like shattered clay

Writing: Some Poetry

Been a while since I've posted anything up here, but today I got struck randomly with an idea for a free form poem, and wrote it in the warm, lazy hours of the afternoon. I used to write a lot of poetry back in the day, but have been off of it for several years (with one exception). Nevertheless, I'm pretty happy with this one. I named this "Part One" because at some point I want to write one about the beauty of silence (this one is about its terror).

Silence, Part One

In the rift between the silence of your words

The blasting roar of ocean waves

Fills the gap between the stillness of your voice

With the pealing of a thunderous night

I ache to flee the booming madness

Of the breach between the quiet of your words

To find the light serenity,

Nuzzled in the comfort of your voice

Art: Steampunk Gentleman

Picture of my friend Nate as a Steampunk Gentleman.