By Kevin D. Williamson
Tuesday, July 14, 2020
Some of our friends on the right were just real, real,
real big on virtue a few years back. Bill Bennett, you may recall, built for
himself a splendid little virtue empire: The Book of Virtues, The
Children’s Book of Virtues, The Children’s Treasury of Virtues, The
Book of Virtues for Boys and Girls, The Book of Virtues for Young People,
The Book of Virtues Cookbook: Now You’re Cookin’ with Virtue!, Moral
Compass: Stories for a Life’s Journey, The Broken Hearth: Reversing the
Moral Collapse of the American Family, Why We Fight: Moral Clarity and
the War on Terrorism.
(I made up the cookbook.)
Conservatives started talking a whole lot about virtue
during the Clinton years, when they were outraged (Bennett gave us The Death
of Outrage: Bill Clinton and the Assault on American Ideals) by the
president’s hound-dogging and endless lying, and about the fact that so many of
our Democrat friends seemed to enjoy being lied to, provided they were
skillfully lied to, which was Bill Clinton’s specialty: “Slick Willie,” unlike
“Tricky Dick,” wasn’t an entirely condemnatory epithet. That really stuck in a
lot of Republican craws, it rankled and it vexed, and at the turn of the
century every third Republican pundit was writing and talking as though he were
Cato the Elder (Cato Censorius, ho, ho!), if not Cincinnatus. That, in turn,
was hard to take for much of the general public — and a hell of a lot harder to
take for the people who knew them. Not because these men had the ordinary and
common moral failings (Bennett was mocked for being a gambler, Newt Gingrich
for being Newt Gingrich) that we all have in varying degrees, but because so
much of that virtue entrepreneurship was so obviously insincere.
And then came 2016, when the CEO of Virtue Inc. linked
arms with Generalissimo Grab ’Em By the P***y. Bill Bennett sniffed that we
should get off our “high horse” and get on board with Trump. Trump critics,
Bennett insisted, “suffer from a terrible case of moral superiority and put
their own vanity and taste above the interest of the country.” Suddenly, all
that old-fashioned virtue stuff was effete, namby-pamby, and effeminate. It was
— surprise — a deficiency in virtue! It was only virtue-signaling, a
simulacrum of virtue, lacking in the authentic manly virtues supposedly
embodied by Donald Trump. The commissars of virtue insisted that criticism of
Trump’s character was only a shallow and snobbish revulsion at his etiquette
and his style, a girlish squeal at his manful and virtuous flouting of manners,
convention, and other “elitist” niceties. His dishonesty was, they insisted,
only a kind of pragmatic showmanship, and confounding only to those unschooled
in the realities of the rough-and-tumble world of business.
Bennett suggested that Trump’s critics were only put off
by his being “crude.” This line of criticism almost always and everywhere is
dishonest, and obviously dishonest: Agree with the critics or not, the
rap on Trump has always been about his actual character, the sort of man he is,
not merely his etiquette, his accent, or how he ties his tie. But as a matter
of cheap rhetoric, it is easy to shed a few crocodile tears over “the tweets”
and the vulgarity while defending the program.
We talk about virtue as though it were some
otherworldly thing, of little interest — or a positive hindrance — to people
whose main concern is “winning” in this world rather than judgment in the next.
But that gets it all wrong. As the Romans and the American founders understood,
the cultivation of republican virtues is eminently practical — it is very
difficult to maintain a free society without those virtues.
If you have spent very much time in the sort of places we
used to describe as the Third World, you probably have noticed a paradox: These
countries often have government everywhere, in your face, all the time, and yet
they go largely ungoverned. For example, Venezuela and Kazakhstan both have
much larger public sectors than does Germany, as measured by public-sector
workers’ share of the total work force. Measured by government spending as a
share of GDP, Libya has nearly twice as much government as Sweden, but it is
not nearly as governed. Ecuador and Belarus spend relatively more on the public
sector than the United States, Switzerland, or Japan, but they don’t have very
much to show for it. In physics, there is a distinction between force and power
— force is just that, a push or a pull, whereas power refers to the rate at
which work is done. (Come at me, pedants.) There is an analogous division in
states, which may have x number of troops at arms or y number of
administrators working on a problem without x or y really telling
you anything about the state’s capacity for achieving its ends. Having the
manpower or the money or some other kind of brute force isn’t necessarily
enough to get the work done.
(I do not mean to make a doctrinaire libertarian point
here; there are well-governed countries with relatively small public sectors
and well-governed countries with relatively large public sectors. Spending and
payroll matter, but it matters what the spending is spent on and what the
people on the payroll are paid to do and whether they do it.)
Scholars of government think a great deal about trust,
consensus, legitimacy, and other related issues. One way of thinking about that
whole batch of things is to consider the question of cooperation.
High-trust societies tend to be high-cooperation societies and to have high
levels of consensus about the direction of policy and few if any questions
about legitimacy. Trust is a key ingredient in the secret sauce of the happy
Nordic countries and in well-governed places such as Switzerland and Canada.
When you have lots of trust and lots of cooperation, you can run programs more
effectively, administer agencies with more confidence, and count on both the
public and the bureaucrats to conduct themselves with a reasonable level of
honesty and scrupulousness. When that succeeds, it produces a virtuous cycle:
Working well creates the conditions for working better; trust and
trustworthiness buttress one another; the prestige that accrues to
administrative work attracts the sort of people who add to that prestige.
When trust fails, the virtuous circle turns vicious, and
then the state has to find other ways to encourage or compel cooperation in
order to function. The spirit of nationalism is cultivated by Beijing and by
Budapest to serve that purpose — by emphasizing a common national identity
(often with the aid of a common external enemy or a hated internal minority
group) and a sense of solidarity and shared destiny, the state can achieve a
high level of buy-in and consensus, at least for a time, in spite of corruption
or incompetence. The socialist ideology of the USSR served much the same
purpose, as a variation on its main theme does in contemporary North Korea.
From that point of view, it is not surprising that the
two poles of American politics have drifted toward socialism and nationalism at
a time when the effectiveness and trustworthiness of our public institutions is
in decline. (I am here reminded of Bryan Caplan’s observation that the United
States has no classical-liberal party but two moderate national-socialist
parties, one a little more socialist, the other a little more nationalist.)
Neither those who are in charge of the institutions of our government nor those
who would like to be in charge of them can with straight faces associate their
efforts with the creditability of those institutions. Nor are they
intellectually or philosophically equipped to build on what trust and
trustworthiness remain in them
Roger Stone committed a raft of felonies in order to
protect the political interests of Donald Trump, who has now commuted Stone’s
sentence as a reward for Stone’s political loyalty. Stone’s misdeeds include
collaborating with the Russian intelligence cutout known as “Guccifer 2.0,”
though I am inclined to credit the defense he has offered there — that he is
too stupid to understand that he was being manipulated by the GRU. The specific
crimes of which he was convicted go straight to the question of trust:
witness-tampering and perjury. As National Review’s editorial put it:
“He was justly convicted of these charges and deserved to go to jail; in our
system of justice, self-parody is no defense.”
Trump’s self-serving commutation of Stone’s prison
sentence is another chip off the U.S. government’s foundation of trust and
legitimacy. No one can claim to be surprised by this behavior — this is exactly
what any reasonable person would expect from Donald Trump and from his
associates. It is what Bill Bennett would have expected if he had understood
his own books or had not forgotten what they say. The heavy price we will pay
for Trump’s presidency is not that we will feel bad as a people about his lack
of virtue and have a good cry over it but that his lies and abuse will leave
the government itself, along with the political system and our civic culture,
degraded. It is not a baby step but a mighty stride down the road to the
Venezuelafication of American politics, and if you don’t think we have our own
Hugo Chávez out there ready to step forward and fill the trust gap with
ideology and an enemies’ list, then you are not paying very close attention.
Civic virtue is not a pleasant abstraction; still less is it a merchandising opportunity. It is a necessity if we are to have an open and transparent government based on trust and cooperation. The alternatives to that are autocracy and anarchy in varying combinations and proportions.
No comments:
Post a Comment