By Charles C. W. Cooke
Thursday, May 16, 2019
Back in 2011, while covering Occupy Wall Street, I was
accosted by a man wearing a large cardboard box. On this box, which he wore
around his torso as might a child pretending to be a robot, he had scribbled
down a theory that, at first glance, seemed more sophisticated than most that
were on display. “Hey, man,” he said
to me, “it’s up to us.”
To explain, he turned around to reveal the other side of
the box, which bore a single word: democracy. Then, having paused for effect,
he turned around again and pointed to the front, on which he had written down
almost every single economic system that had been tried in human history:
capitalism, socialism, mercantilism, autarky, distributism, fascism, feudalism,
potlatch, mutualism, and so forth. “It’s up to us,” he said again. “It’s our
democracy, and we can choose the economy we
want.”
Further conversation revealed that he believed this quite
literally. In his view, democracy was the sole nonnegotiable element of our
political system, while everything else was up for grabs. If a majority wanted
to nationalize the banks or abolish private property or bar all international
trade or invade Brazil and harvest its resources, that was its prerogative. As
might be expected, he had a prediction and a predilection: Socialism, he
explained, was both the most likely system to be adopted, because it catered to
the “majority, not the 1 percent,” and the best, because it would fix all of
America’s problems without any downsides.
“It’s up to us.”
I have thought about this conversation frequently since
then, because it highlights some of the core misconceptions held by socialism’s
champions, which are, in no particular order, that the retention of a
democratic system of government makes massive state intervention more
acceptable, that “capitalism” is a “system” in the same way as is “socialism,”
and that liberal democracy — and, in particular, America’s brilliant
constitutional order — can survive the establishment of a socialist economy.
Because I was there to write about the protests rather than to get into
prolonged arguments, I listened and probed rather than disputed his contention.
Had I been debating him, however, my rejoinder would have been a simple one:
No, it’s not “up to us.”
Or, at least, it’s not up to “us” in the way that my
friend in the cardboard box was using the word “us.” As I write, ascendant
elements within the American Left are engaged in a sustained attempt to
reintroduce and rehabilitate the word “socialism,” in part by prepending to it
a word that has a much better reputation and an infinitely better historical
record: “democratic.” Voters should not be fooled by the rebranding, for there
is no sense in which socialism can be made compatible with democracy as it is
understood in the West. At worst, socialism eats democracy and is swiftly
transmuted into tyranny and deprivation. At best — and I use that word loosely
— socialism stamps out individual agency, places civil society into a
straitjacket of uniform size, and turns representative government into a
chimera. The U.S. Constitution may as a technical matter be silent on most
economic questions, but it is crystal clear on the appropriate role of
government. And the government that it permits is incompatible with, and
insufficient to sustain, socialism.
This is deliberate. In the United States, and beyond, we
do not think about our democracy in purely procedural terms. While majority
rule on certain political questions is indeed deemed imperative, we
nevertheless reject the notion that majorities may do whatever they wish, we
demand that our institutions leave room for civil society and for individuals,
and we insist upon a broad presumption of liberty that extends across all areas
of human activity. It is reasonably well understood in this country that to
place the word “democratic” in front of, say, “speech restrictions” or
“warrantless searches” or “juryless criminal prosecutions” would be in no way
to legitimize those things or to make them more compatible with the
preservation of a free society.
It is less well understood that to place the word
“democratic” in front of “socialism” is an equally fruitless endeavor — and for
the same reasons. To those whose conception of “democracy” is limited entirely
to the question of “Who won the most votes?” this may seem paradoxical. To
those familiar with the precepts beneath the Anglo-American tradition, however,
it should be quite obvious. Just as the individual right to free speech is
widely comprehended as part of what we mean by “democracy” rather than as an
unacceptable abridgment of majority rule, so the individual rights protected in
property and by markets are necessary to the maintenance of a democratic order
— in this, deeper, sense of the word. In the West, choosing to trade with a
person in another country is, itself, a democratic
act. Electing to start a company in your garage, with no need for another’s
imprimatur, is, itself, a democratic act.
Banding together to establish a cooperative is, itself, a democratic act. Selecting the vendor from which you source your
goods and services — and choosing what to buy from it — is, itself, a democratic act. Keeping the lion’s share
of the fruits of your labor is, itself, a democratic
act. When governments step in with their bayonets and say “No!” they are,
in effect, keeping your choices off the ballot.
Properly understood, the attempt to draw a hard line
between “democracy” and “economics” is not only a fool’s game but a game that
socialists do not in fact play themselves. Ugo Okere, a self-described
“democratic socialist” who ran for the Chicago City Council earlier this year,
was recently praised in Jacobin
magazine for explaining that “democratic socialism, to me, is about democratic
control of every single facet of our life.” That’s one way of putting it,
certainly. Another is “tyranny.” Or, if you prefer, democratic tyranny. Alexis de Tocqueville observed that “the health
of a democratic society may be measured by the quality of functions performed
by private citizens.” Lose those functions in America, and you lose democracy
in America, too.
And then there is the question of socialism’s substantive
record, which is so extraordinarily disastrous that it renders my
friend-in-the-box’s theoretical argument useless even on its own terms. It is,
in a strictly technical sense, “up to us” whether we choose to, say, smash
ourselves repeatedly in the face with a hammer, but that is neither here nor
there given that nobody in his right mind would elect to smash himself in the face
with a hammer. We should avoid socialism with a similar diligence — and for
similar reasons.
History has shown us that socialism exhibits three core
defects from which it cannot escape and which its champions cannot avoid. The
first is what Hayek termed “the knowledge problem.” This holds that all
economic actors make errors based on imperfect knowledge but that a
decentralized economy will suffer less from this, partly because the
decision-makers are closer to the information they need, and partly because
each actor does not wield total control over everything but is only one part of
a larger puzzle. The second problem is that, because socialism eliminates both
private property and supply and demand, it eliminates rational incentives and,
thereby, rational calculation. The third problem is that socialism, following
Marx’s dialectical theory of history, lends itself to a theory of inevitability
or preordination that leaves no room for dissent, and that leads in consequence
to the elevation of a political class that responds to failure by searching for
wreckers and dissenters to punish. Worse still, because socialists view all
questions, including moral questions, through a class lens, these searches tend
to be deemed morally positive — bound, one day, to be regarded by History as
Necessary. Together, these defects lead to misery, poverty, corruption,
ignorance, authoritarianism, desperation, exodus, and death.
Ironically enough, they also lead to socialism’s
exhibiting a record of failure in precisely the areas where it is supposed to
excel. Despite the promises in the brochure, socialism has been terrible at
helping the poor; it has been terrible at helping women advance; it has been
terrible for civil liberties; it been terrible at helping the environment; it
has been terrible at attracting immigrants; it has been terrible at tolerating
and protecting minorities; it has been terrible at fostering technology,
architecture, and art; it has been terrible at producing agriculture; and,
worst of all, it has been terrible at sharing power and resources — indeed, it
has done precisely the opposite, creating new “ruling classes” that are far
less adept, far less responsive, and far less responsible than the ones they
replaced.
It has become something of a running joke that, whenever
socialism’s history is highlighted, its diehard advocates insist that “that
wasn’t real socialism.” This defense
is frustrating. But it is also instructive, in that it is an admission that,
like perpetual motion, socialism has never been realized in the world. The U.S.
Constitution has survived for so long because it was built upon the
understanding that man is imperfect and always will be, because it accepts that
selfishness is ineradicable and so must be harnessed, because it acknowledges
that power corrupts as much in our era as it ever did, and because it makes
provisions for the fact that disunity is inevitable in any free society.
Capitalism, too, has survived because it is built on truth rather than myths.
Socialism, by contrast, has failed each and every time it has been tried
because it is predicated upon precisely the opposite — that is, precisely the wrong — assumptions.
One would have imagined that, at some point, “That wasn’t
real socialism . . .” would have been followed by “. . . and real socialism can’t exist because man isn’t
perfectible, selfishness is ineradicable, power has needed restraining since
the dawn of time, and political unity is a dangerous and undesirable myth.”
Alas, no such recognition has yet been forthcoming. In the 20th century,
Communism killed at least 100 million people — by democide, by famine, by
central planning, by war — and yet it is still acceptable to say in public that
it was a “nice idea.” In the post-war period, “democratic” socialism ravaged
the economies of the West like a virus and required a counterrevolution to
remove, and yet it remains sufficiently seductive to a slice of the public as
to present a threat to the American order. Today, the states that have actively
rejected socialism are growing fast (India, Poland, the former East Germany)
while those that fell prey to the temptation are either moribund (Greece),
tyrannies (China), or international pariahs (Cuba and North Korea) — and yet
there is still a solipsistic cottage industry dedicated to blaming their
successes and failures on decisions made by the United States. The damn thing
is ineradicable.
And so we get Venezuela. That Hugo Chávez’s centrally
planned “Bolivarian Revolution” has descended into dictatorship, repression,
starvation, and crisis was apparently genuinely shocking to a good number of
the people who write about politics for a living. Six years ago, upon Chávez’s
death, the Guardian’s Simon
Reid-Henry reflected the consensus view on the left by arguing that Chávez had
shown “that the West’s ways aren’t always best” by “[refashioning] Venezuelan
democracy in ways that he thought better addressed the country’s long-standing
development issues.” His paper’s editorial board went one further, describing
Chávez’s work as an “unfinished revolution.” Predictably enough, this was in
fact a correct characterization of Venezuela’s fate — just not in the way that
the Guardian had anticipated. Five
years after that edition went to print, Ricardo Hausmann, the former chief
economist of the Inter-American Development Bank, was explaining that
“Venezuela’s economic catastrophe dwarfs any in the history of the U.S.,
Western Europe or the rest of Latin America.”
Surprise!
“The West’s ways aren’t always best”? The Venezuelan
president is now a ruthless dictator who has cracked down on free speech,
prohibited mass political protests, and confiscated firearms from anyone who
has been even remotely critical of him. Thirteen percent of the country’s
population has now fled, and those who have remained have been left so degraded
by the government’s price controls that they have gone years without toilet
paper, meat, and other basic necessities and have in consequence taken to
eating zoo animals for sustenance and to scouring garbage bags for supplies.
According to the Pharmaceutical Federation of Venezuela, the country is
suffering through an 85 percent medicine shortage and a 90 percent shortage of
basic medical supplies. The child-mortality rate has increased 140 percent.
Ninety percent of Venezuelans now live in poverty. This year, the IMF predicts,
inflation will hit 10 million percent. All this in a country with the world’s
largest oil reserves — reserves greater than those of the United States by a
factor of ten.
“It’s up to us.”
One of the great advantages to living at the tail end of
6,000 years or so of human civilization is the chance we have been afforded to
look back and learn from the lessons accrued by others without having to go
through the pain of learning them for ourselves. History is a complicated
thing, and should be treated as such, but there are nevertheless a few core
rules by which we can live: Do not inflict laws on others to which you would
not subject yourself; ensure that you distribute power among several rival institutions,
and, if possible, several geographical locations; never relinquish the right to
free speech, the right to free conscience, the right to freedom of religion,
the right to bear arms, or the right to a jury trial; insist on being
represented by a parliament, and make sure that you prohibit that parliament
from loaning its powers to a king, temporarily or permanently; do not ask
people to give up more of their income than they are permitted to keep; and
don’t, whatever you do, be seduced by socialists bearing promises. And if you are seduced, get out before it’s too
late. You have nothing to lose but your chains.
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