March 26, 2021
A greatly underappreciated shift in the nature of government has occurred in the last 250 years. For 5000 years of recorded history prior to the mid 18th century, there had only been a small handful of governments by the people, for the people. Those very few states were among the greatest ever to exist, most notably Ancient Greece and Rome. Unfortunately, for nearly 1500 years following the fall of Rome there were very few lessons learned about the supremacy of democratic and republican government. It was not until the American Revolution that statesmen looked back on the successes of these cultures to structure an entire system of government in their image. A more perfect climax to the Enlightenment couldn't have been written by a novelist.
The results have been staggering. The 250 years since the American Revolution have been an explosion of democratic and republican governments, first in Europe and Canada, then in parts of Asia, and more recently in South America. The people of the world are freer now than at any point in pre-Enlightenment history, and the consequences pervade all human affairs. Medical advancements have eradicated diseases which previously claimed whole percentages of every generation. Developments in machinery have enabled rates of manufacturing and travel which are orders of magnitude faster than only a few generations ago. Electrical devices have accelerated communications to (literally) the speed of light. Billions of individuals have been lifted out of poverty by their own industriousness. Perhaps most importantly of all, these billions of individuals have had the opportunity to ponder and to influence the manner in which they're governed.
This is an absolutely positive development, but it places a tremendous responsibility on each of us in the free world: We must consider very, very carefully how the government should operate and what it should do. It would be beyond foolish for us to allow our vigilance to fail, and assume that the modern world has grown out of human nature, as though it was merely an adolescent phase. Thousands of years of recorded human history are covered with much more blood than ink, and nothing about our nature has changed. The recently completed 20th century is proof positive, given that at least one hundred million people were slaughtered by their own governments and a hundred million more were killed in warfare sparked by the conquest of tyrants. It would be the greatest collective mistake in the history of man for us to learn nothing from what has just happened, especially because all of this suffering was created by popularly elected governments. If there is any single lesson for the modern man, it is this: Mere democracy will not save us.
Democracy is vastly preferable to autocracy or oligarchy, that much is beyond dispute. Oligarchs and autocrats have on many occasions oppressed the entire population they rule over, some such examples even continue to exist today. A properly functioning democracy ensures against this circumstance, because of course a majority wouldn't approve such a government. The minority, however, has little reassurance that they won't befall a similar fate. Democracy, by its very definition, places the rights of a majority above the rights of a minority. It may be argued that a majority would not approve of the oppression of a minority, but again, a brief survey of history dismantles any such suggestion entirely. The United States treated ethnic groups as legally sub-human for nearly 100 years after its founding. Even in more recent history, an example can be found in the Kulaks, a successful class of peasant farmers in the Soviet Union who had their livestock, land, and in many cases their lives taken by the majority of poorer peasants.
The rule of many may be less prone to atrocity than the rule of few, but it isn't without significant error. The greatest among these is the conflation of majority approval with benevolence, particularly given what has been observed about man's nature and the ethical irrelevance of popularity. A better government would have boundaries it shall not cross, or even better yet, an absolutely exhaustive list of powers it shall have. Where should these lines around government authority be drawn?
A government which incorporates democratic elections, but which also has specific restrictions on its use of authority is broadly referred to as a Constitutional Republic. The government is founded and bound by a constitution, which serves as an authorization for the institution to act in a specific manner. Democratic elections appoint representatives who create, execute, and interpret the law. The constitution may be amended with overwhelming support, but it supersedes all other law. Finally, all people, including and especially government officials, are beneath the law.
This system of government is really something if the contents of the constitution are reasonable. Then all that would be necessary is a public which fiercely demands that promises made by the constitution are paid in full, because this entire system relies on trust in the law. After all, an essential function of governments is to possess an overwhelming magnitude of lethal force which may be dispensed to ensure its laws are upheld. The government must be held to that same standard by its people, otherwise there cannot be any recourse for misbehavior.
The question of what a government should do is a question of what should be enforced at gunpoint. There's a myriad of reasons that governments are incapable of existing without the threat of force, including the fact that someone with the threat of force could overthrow the government at will. This isn't merely an existential issue for governments, though, it's built into its most basic operations. Legislation's only meaningful value lies in the ability and willingness of the government to use force to ensure it's obeyed. Regardless of whether the penalty for violating a law is a fine or jail time, it will be paid. Voluntarily, kicking and screaming, on a stretcher, or in a pine box... it will be paid.
The purpose of this observation is not to suggest that government is evil by nature, because there are things which can be justifiably enforced at gunpoint if necessary. The use of proportional force to prohibit murder, theft, and other objective ethical crimes is entirely legitimate by governments, or by anyone at all. It is not necessary to derive consent from an individual or a group of individuals regarding whether they are willing to have force used against them to stop them from behaving unethically. This keeping of the peace is easy enough to understand as a fundamental necessity for civil society, people cannot be intentionally harming each other and continue to coexist. This prohibition of unethical behavior covers one of two legitimate functions of the government.
The other legitimate function of the government is to manage common resources to avoid the tragedy of the commons, and to serve as a mechanism to organize efforts concerning common resources. The tragedy of the commons is a term that refers to a meta-observation about unregulated common resources, particularly that each individual is incentivized to abuse the common resource to the detriment of all, regardless of other's behavior. The original example for which the tragedy is named refers to common land which herders use to graze their livestock. Each herder can always draw more value from the common land by grazing another animal there, but overgrazing the land will leave it barren. This is true whether others are overgrazing or not, because the actions of a single herder are insignificant enough that the common land's fate won't be altered. If the common land is inevitably doomed to destruction, then each herder may as well get as much out of it as he can before it's totally barren. If the common land is being used reasonably enough by the other villagers, then overuse by oneself alone won't alter its course towards destruction. In this way, each villager is economically encouraged to behave in a manner that will destroy the commons.
With respect to what can be considered common, the government is charged with regulating its use and performing whatever maintenance may be necessary. Some of these commons are very close to the original example, in that they're natural resources like water, air, and land. However, the same principle and moral reasoning can be applied to more abstract notions of commons. For instance, currency is merely a human construct designed to be a store of value asset, but it requires an issuing institution which must be universally trusted. A basic education is another abstract commons because ultimately each of us will be too old to carry the weight of civilization, and the younger generation must be prepared to have it passed onto them. Roads, postal service, and public utilities (to some extent) are other examples of commons which the government has legitimate business managing. Abuses of authority are often derived from this function of government, because it is said that something is common when it is truly not. Popular targets include the private sector, higher education, and the private affairs of citizens that do not directly harm others.
The issue of funding is central to the existence of government, and so far the only solution ever successfully implemented is taxation. To its credit, taxation is a simple solution to an extremely complicated problem, and practically speaking has worked well enough for all the world's greatest civilizations. However, ethical concerns remain that are either left unaddressed or are excused by incomplete models of how governments truly work. If the modern world is to consider and craft government to enforce ethical standards, we surely cannot allow the very existence of government to be backed by ethically questionable behavior while we treat the issue as cavalier.
Fundamentally, taxation is the forced confiscation of funds by the government from individuals or businesses operating in its jurisdiction. Taxes have been levied on income, exchange, property ownership, gifts, transfer of estate assets upon death, and countless other financial activities. Furthermore, governments generally reserve the right to audit the records of any private citizen or business to ensure they've paid what the government has determined they owe.
The most obvious critique of this practice lies in the broad assumption that the government is entitled to a fraction of transactions executed within its borders. What about the transfer of value entitles the government to compensation? Indeed, forcible confiscation of funds without just entitlement is categorically theft. It has been argued that the government provides services and security which allow the civilization around each transaction to take place, and it is therefore entitled to compensation just as any serviceman is entitled to compensation for their work. This comparison doesn't hold up to scrutiny, however. Any private service provider is expected to establish and agree upon terms with their client, describing the services to be performed and the price that will be charged for them, before they can demand compensation. This expectation of prior agreement can be found in contract law across many governments, so it's hardly novel. Why isn't the government held to the same standard?
An answer to this question has been offered in the form of the "social contract." The social contract is a model for government authority which asserts that the government and its people have entered into a contract, whereby the people have ceded some of their liberty to the government in exchange for the security and services it provides. If such a contract existed in any meaningful way, it would be a compelling argument in defense of taxation. Alas, archeologists have been yet unable to unearth this relic, which allegedly contains the written consent of every individual in the world to be subject to whatever legislation their government devises. Such as it is, the "social contract" is just a legend no more compelling than the "divine right of kings" argument which preceded it. As a matter of fact, these arguments have a great deal in common insofar as both assert that a legitimate and arbitrary mandate for government authority exists without any evidence.
Is all taxation theft, then? Some would say so, that any forced confiscation of funds without an explicit contract is unethical. They would insist that all government funds be derived from voluntary donations. While that's clearly an ethical solution, it creates another tragedy of the commons situation whereby no one feels that their contribution would be meaningful (except for the exceptionally wealthy). It's also quite difficult to imagine a government actually being successfully funded by donations. Most importantly, there are some mechanisms of taxation which don't present any ethical conflicts at all.
Taxes on government services charged directly to the user are especially valid, because the standard of prior consent is upheld absolutely. Toll roads are perhaps the best available example of this kind of tax, and certainly one of the simplest to understand. There are several other taxes of this nature that are much less obvious, among them property taxes and tariffs. In the case of property tax, the government service is the most fundamental of them all: Protecting the land. Prior consent is obtained from the landowner when they purchase the land in the first place, and they're free to sell their land to stop paying property tax at any time. Tariffs are derived from the government service of conducting negotiations and establishing trade deals with foreign nations, and prior consent is obtained from the merchant when they make exchanges across borders. Finally, there is an interesting argument that as the minter of currency, the government has the legitimate authority to assign terms to its ownership and exchange. It wouldn't be wise to use this as the sole justification for the morality of taxation, however, because it would encourage the use of alternative currencies and bartering.
What about income tax, sales tax, capital gains tax, excise tax...? The standard is simple: If the transaction is one in which the government is not meaningfully involved, it has no justification for demanding payment for any of the value exchanged. Taxation of income, as an example, is absurd. What government service is relevant to the private exchange of labor for value? None at all. Furthermore, the mere suggestion that a man is only entitled to a fraction of the sweat of his own back is repulsive, and such insinuation is unfit for a moral society. The loss of those taxes which do not legitimately concern the government would certainly be a tectonic shift in modern governance, but so to would be the abolishment of all government activity which does not directly provide for the enforcement of ethics or serve the maintenance of the commons.
The final important feature of a government which purports to serve its people is the assignment of authority to the smallest scale possible. That is to say, local governments should take care of as much government business as they reasonably can, and then county, then state or provincial, and only then federal governments should take on responsibility. There are many clear benefits provided by this structure. Firstly, government business on a lower level in this hierarchy can be influenced more easily by the people to suit their particular interests, and the consent of the governed is thereby preserved as best as possible. Bureaucratic inefficiencies are also less significant in smaller scale institutions, so they should be employed as much as possible. Most important of all, decentralization of power is an extremely effective antidote to authoritarianism. Even if this structure cannot prevent a seizure of power by higher levels of government, it at least forces such a seizure to actually take place for an authoritarian regime to be established. Centralization of government power is an extremely recognizable process, which enables the vigilant to be forewarned of their trajectory.
If Aesop knew that peace is best assured by preparedness for war in antiquity, surely we can be expected to know it now. Governments make a point of maintaining their armies during peacetime, but there's no reason that the people should not also take it upon themselves to be prepared for warfare. First of all, wars of aggression and conquest in the homeland are much less likely, or will certainly be less successful. Consider this map of the Axis Powers' occupation near its peak. There's a significant lapse in the otherwise complete domination of central Europe around Switzerland, as a consequence of (among other things) a well-armed and prepared population. The whole of Switzerland was fully mobilized for war in only three days, and while this mobilization was activated by the government, the efficiency of the Swiss military lies in its decentralization. Swiss firearms laws continue to be among the most permissive in Europe, and consequently the rate of firearm ownership is relatively high. Another example can be found in the United States, which has not had a war on its own soil since 1812.
It is not necessary that a majority of citizens be well armed and trained, a significant minority is more than sufficient. Even just 5% of a population is a large enough proportion to pose insurmountable challenges for oppressing or conquering forces. 5% of the United States is over 15 million people, which is nearly an order of magnitude larger than China's active military, the largest in the world. It has been observed that civilians armed with rifles are at a tremendous disadvantage against modern military technology, and this is true. Any nuclear power can eradicate an entire nation in a day, but weapons capable of mass destruction are ineffective for warfare aimed at any other purpose. Even the eradication of a particular group of people must be much more surgical, and requires those people to be seized manually. This is the purpose of an armed and trained society, because such a seizure cannot then be easily executed.
Of course, it is not foreign powers alone which pose a threat to liberty. A great deal of oppression and brutality is domestic, perpetrated by the very government charged with protecting those it abuses. This is a greater risk for the pubic than foreign powers, as a matter of fact, because even authoritarian regimes will leverage the military to fend off invaders. Domestic threats to liberty, however, will only be warded off by a well-prepared people. Central to the security of freedom is the rigorous defense of this principle, regardless of circumstance. Private ownership of weapons is objectively not a concern of the government, as the mere ownership of a weapon cannot be reasonably argued to harm anyone or to be a commons. There will surely continue to be those who argue that society would be better without weapons, but they deceive themselves. It is universally understood that the government's existence and operation is dependent on its ownership of weapons, and its ability to deploy them readily. The assertion that "no one needs" to own weapons is therefore untrue, and is moreover understood to be untrue by all. It is simply a sheepskin concealing the wolf beneath: A government monopoly on the use of force. It is nothing short of certain that such a magnificent seizure and centralization of power will only be the first in a long sequence of such usurpations, which will doubtless be emboldened by the destruction of the only remaining check on government authority.
"Tyrant" and "dictator" are among the kinds of words thrown around in political discourse so much that their true meaning has been greatly diluted. How's anyone supposed to know the difference between a true authoritarian regime and one that's just disliked, when they're so frequently referred to the same way? Fortunately, the structure of republican governments makes their behavior predictable and their movement slow. More broadly, there are a handful of indicators which are causally linked to authoritarian ends. Observation of these indicators and recognition of trends in them is an indispensible tool in identifying a brewing storm.
Central to a liberal society is the rule of law, both in the affairs of citizens and of the government. While it's logically possible for an authoritarian regime to establish itself boldly, declaring its intentions by way of constitutional amendments, this has generally not been the case. Central to an authoritarian society is the rule of man, and consequently authoritarians behave as though they are above the law. Examples abound of authoritarians passing laws making promises that were not even remotely kept, the 1936 Soviet Constitution being one of the most infamous (Articles 124-129 are particularly laughable).
Circumvention, deliberate misinterpretation, and forthright violation of constitutional law must not be tolerated by a free people. This is true regardless of circumstance or seemingly righteous intentions, for the constitution is the only bulwark keeping back the rule of man.
A well-structured constitution would already have a very clear separation of powers, but the elimination of these separations is so essential to the establishment of an authoritarian regime that it warrants being redundant. Attempts to move authority up the hierarchy of government or to break down barriers between branches must be steadfastly opposed.
No benevolent intentions fuel these efforts, their purpose is to centralize power in as small of a ruling class as possible. The endgame is a government which can approve policies very swiftly on a large scale, effectively subverting the rule of law by making it subject to those very few who have the ability to suddenly alter it at will.
Andrew Breitbart is credited with recognizing that "Politics is downstream from culture." It may seem a pedestrian observation, but the implications are significant for the purposes of charting a government's course. Policy is made by officials elected by the people, but the process is slow by design. Culture, particularly in the modern era, moves much more quickly. It also behaves quite erratically, so short-term noise must be smoothed out to identify the broader direction of the zeitgeist.
Attempts to strip individuals of their liberties without using the government warrants close attention. It may be achieved by influencing corporations to take action against individuals or groups, and popularizing excommunication or even direct harm against them. Regardless of the strategies employed, a culture which has no tolerance for philosophical dissent is well on its way to having a government which doesn't tolerate dissent either.
Governments have an ethical obligation to be clear about what it will prosecute and what it will not, because the point of prosecution is to strip the accused of assets or liberties. This must not be taken lightly. Legitimate governments pass very clear legislation, and assume the innocence of any individual or entity being accused of violating the law until clear violations have been demonstrated. There will always be edge cases which require adjudication by the justice system, but these should not be especially common.
Legislation which seems as though it was designed to be difficult or impossible to understand very well may have been designed in exactly that manner. It's entirely possible that the officials who are responsible for it don't understand it themselves. If this has become poignantly evident, it implies both a flippant regard for who is prosecuted as a consequence, as well as a belief that those responsible for the law won't be.
Government officials will doubtless be caught red-handed from time to time overreaching the legitimate powers of their office, leveraging their influence for their own personal gain, even aiding enemies of the state. These lone events aren't cause for alarm, but the events that follow are critical. If this behavior isn't swiftly punished by other officials of all political persuasions, either by stern rebuke or impeachment, an investigation into why they've developed a palate for injustice is necessary.
There are few logical reasons to be wary of condemning unethical behavior, unless one fears that their own words will be used against oneself or allies in the future.
Democratic republics offer their people many avenues to affect change in their government, and these must be mobilized rapidly once concerning circumstances arise. Specific grievances and their consequences must be publicly declared, if only to get them on record for future reference. Once illiberal legislation has been ratified, it will almost certainly not be repealed entirely. Even in the rare case that a government admits fault and undoes its initial action, this virtually never includes any patchwork actions that have been very likely undertaken between the initial action and its ultimate repeal. That is to say, admission of wrongdoing is used only as an absolute last resort for government work. It's much more common for resources to be invested in damage control measures, which are generally also illiberal. All of these will not be undone without many generations of constant effort, which is scarce.
Complacency is the enemy of liberty. It is much easier to stop the onslaught of authoritarian beliefs, policies, and actions while they're still in the pipeline.
If prophylaxes measures have failed to prevent a government from becoming so totalitarian that it is intolerable for a free people, the only recourse available is to declare independence. Because of the severity of this solution, it should not be employed unless it is rapidly becoming necessary. Declaring independence too early is a big mistake, to be sure. That said, there is no such thing as declaring independence too late. This option must be employed when the rule of man has become inevitable, but before it has been implemented.
Historically, this generally provokes the government receiving the declaration to declare war. If that's the case, so be it. If this point has truly been reached, the choice for dissenters is to be combatants or corpses.
