"Criminals are never very amusing. It's because they're failures. Those who make real money aren't counted as criminals. This is a class distinction, not an ethical problem."

– Orson Welles (1915–1985), Mr. Arkadin (1955)

Jeffrey Tucker writes:

The phrase "Merchants of Death" takes center stage in the movie Iron Man, which is a spectacular exposé of a subject that dominates the American economic landscape but about which Americans have very little knowledge. The phrase and the movie deal with the odd juxtaposition of capitalism and war as found in the weapons industry. Here we have innovations and efficiency of the type we associate with the private commercial sector but serving ends that are the very opposite of capitalism. The industry serves war, not peace, depends on coercion, not human volition, and profits from destruction, not creation.…

The existence of such an industry scandalized Americans in the interwar period, and there was one treatise that led the way in helping to foment the outrage. In fact, it was a bestselling book in 1934 with the title Merchants of Death. This book is not a typical left-wing style attacks on commerce as the essence of war. In fact, it argues the opposite:

"The arms industry did not create the war system.
On the contrary, the war system created the arms industry."

FULL ARTICLE

I'm a big fan of highbrow Cliff Notes. For example, Kant's famous metaphysical treatise is called
Critique of Pure Reason; I eventually had to read it for an upper-level course on Kant, but in 101, we read his much shorter Prolegomena to any Future Metaphysics, which was, our intro professor explained to us, Kant's own summary presentation of his longer work.

These days, I'm reading H.G. Wells's A Short History of the World, which is the summary version of his two-volume Outline of History.

In both cases, the author wrote his own summary. I couldn't hope for an equivalent with the Bible — which I've started several times but never made it out of Genesis — so instead I'm reading and enjoying David Plotz's "Blogging the Bible," from Slate.com.

As they come up, I'm also keeping track of famous saying I didn't realize were biblical in origin, some of which have been reworded in their popular form, such as, "Can the Cushite change his skin or the leopard his spots?" (Jeremiah 13:23). I guess the Bible isn't very politically correct.

Here's Plotz's introductory comment to Jeremiah chapters 14–16:

Anyone who's ever been in a bad relationship knows the Doctrine of Pre-Emptive Cruelty: Before you go through the torture of dumping a boyfriend, you act meaner than you feel toward him. (This usually goes on at an unconscious level.) Boyfriend understandably bristles and retaliates. This makes the actual leave-taking much easier. You get to lighten your own guilt by blaming the dumpee for being such a jerk.

This appears to be God's strategy.

My father used to lament the lack of biblical literacy in my so-called education. For most of my life, I haven't shared his regret. But that concept alone — the doctrine of preemptive cruelty (which yes, I suppose might be more Plotz's than God's) — would have been well worth knowing in my formative years. My teens and 20's would have looked very different if I'd known it.

My father, who in one of his professional incarnations was a college English instructor specializing in Shakespeare, is currently reading Conn Iggulden's Emperor series, historical fiction based on the life of Julius Caesar. He's also watching the HBO/BBC series Rome, at our enthusiastic recommendation.

He wrote me today about the complexities of emotionally allying with different "sides" in historical struggles, and how much our allegiance is affected by already knowing the winners and losers.

I replied with a very different perspective on what affects the sides we take and who we root for:

This is something I've been meaning to ask you about, and to research more generally.

Do you think of Shakespeare's play as pro-Caesar? That's certainly the impression I remember.

For most of my life, I've sensed from our culture an approval of Julius Caesar and a disapproval (or hatred) for Brutus. But the more history I learn, the less sense this makes. Or rather, the more Anglo-American republican history I learn, the greater is my sense that American admiration of Caesar is a 20th-century phenomenon.

The Lockean liberals in England, the American revolutionaries, and the founding fathers wrote and published under not just Roman names but Roman republican names — the names of the opponents of Caesar, the allies of Brutus. The once-upon-a-time-libertarian Cato Institute is named for the 18th-century "Cato's Letters" whose English authors were taking the name of the Roman republican Cato. When the American Revolution was over and the debate was beginning for and against a centralizing constitution, the so-called anti-Federalists (the classical liberal/libertarian, decentralist, republicans) wrote under the names Cato and Brutus! (And despite the eventual victory of the Federalists, the mass of the population was on the side of the anti-Federalists.)

Eighty years later, John Wilkes Booth expressed his bafflement, after assassinating Lincoln, that he was so universally reviled when Brutus was so universally honored!

My current guess is that Shakespeare wrote a pro-Caesar play in an era of pro-monarchy, at least somewhat genuinely felt. But English and American republicans recognized that they were historically on the opposite side. In the 20th century (this theory would have it), Americans lost their classical educations and forgot their historical alliances. We knew we should admire Shakespeare, and Shakespeare seemed to admire the centralizers, therefore we abandon our decentralist history and alliances and all hail Caesar.

My father says that Shakespeare saw through Julius Caesar — but despised Brutus.

I'm still hoping someone can tell me about the evolution of Anglo-American attitudes toward Caesar and Brutus. How much of this story do I have right?

As neural told me,

The quotemaster at qotd.org, G. Armour Van Horn (who signs his introductory comments "Van") has given some hints before of having libertarian leanings. He's suspicious of government in general, has expressed a past appreciation of Ayn Rand (with the standard disclaimers), and has a fondness for Thomas Jefferson. I've never sensed anything radical about him, however. Until this morning.

Today's mailing was the first hint, the first subtle sign of blasphemy against our secular religion.

Today's introductory comments begin, "I no longer participate in politics directly…"

Sound familiar?

Here's the whole message:

I no longer participate in politics directly, but for months now I've been drawn to watching the presidential race with much the same fascination a bystander might evidence at the scene of a multiple-vehicle road accident. Alas, things appear to be getting ugly, I thought a little cynicism from the ages would be in order. Note that one of our contributors, newsman Edward R. Murrow, was born a century ago today.

Today's Quotes:

• "The politicians were talking themselves red, white, and blue in the face."

  – Clare Boothe Luce, 1902–1987

• "Three groups spend other people's money: children, thieves, politicians. All three need supervision."

  – Dick Armey

• "The politician in my country seeks votes, affection, and respect, in that order…. With few notable exceptions, they are simply men who want to be loved."

  – Edward R. Murrow, 1908–1965

• "The trouble with this country is that there are too many politicians who believe, with a conviction based on experience, that you can fool all of the people all of the time."

  – Franklin P. Adams, 1881–1960

• "The whole aim of practical politics is to keep the populace alarmed – and hence clamorous to be led to safety – by menacing it with an endless series of hobgoblins, all of them imaginary."

  – Henry Louis Mencken, 1880–1956

• "My choice early in life was either to be a piano–player in a whorehouse or a politician. And to tell the truth, there's hardly any difference."

  – Harry S Truman, 1884–1972

A new picture book about plastic surgery aims to explain why mom is getting a flatter tummy and a 'prettier' nose.

(via AC & Carolyn)

Well, it horrifies me less than Why Mommy Is a Democrat.

"I have concluded that history in my own public school education was little more than a chronological sequence of political campaign slogans, punctuated by the odd war."

– David Bratton

Ludwig von Mises wrote,

The system of free enterprise has been dubbed capitalism in order to deprecate and to smear it. However, this term can be considered very pertinent. It refers to the most characteristic feature of the system, its main eminence, viz., the role the notion of capital plays in its conduct.

That's from chapter 13 of Human Action.

I think Robert Murphy's summary is even better:

Capitalism was originally a smear term for the system of free enterprise, meant to imply that this system only serves the narrow interests of the capitalists. However, the term is a good one, for the very notion of capital — of summing the market prices of the resources available for a project — is inextricably linked to monetary calculation, which itself can only occur in a capitalist society.

I was a free-market advocate before I became an advocate of capitalism. The free market is an ethical concept, not an economic one; it is merely the recognition that nonaggression needs to apply to exchange as much as it applies to anything else. (Robert Nozick summarized this idea as "capitalist acts between consenting adults.")

Capitalism is a separate issue and a separate agenda — a positive agenda, in contradistinction to the negative agenda of nonaggression, a utilitarian concept rather than an ethical one — but the more I learned of economics, capital theory, and economic history, the less I could understand the left-libertarian position of embracing the free market while rejecting capitalism.

The free-market anticapitalists define capitalism as any system of political privilege for current capitalists, especially as it suppresses bottom-up competition, entry-level entrepreneurship, and the rights of labor. But we already have plenty of other terms to cover that idea — mercantilism, corporatism, even fascism — but what alternative is there to indicate the universal benefits of capital accumulation, capital structure, and capital calculation — all of which result from the private ownership of the means of production?

In fact, private ownership of the means of production (that is, of capital) was the technical definition of capitalism, even among the anticapitalists who coined the term! The idea of political privilege for capital owners was just an assumed consequence, a conflation of definition and theory.

The only advantage I see to accepting this linguistic conflation is to conciliate the heirs of the New Left, to tease out of them a more consistent individualism without tripping their anticommercial reflexes. But aside from what I consider its intellectual dishonesty, this strategy, it seems to me, does more than postpone anti-economic prejudices; it implicitly promotes them.

Faced with these same prejudices, many anti-anti-capitalists adopted the label of "free enterprise," but that term, taken literally, tells us nothing more than "free market" does. It certainly indicates nothing about the structure of ownership or of the means of production.

Until a free-market anticapitalist can offer me a useful alternative label for the utilitarian economic concept Mises called "capitalism," I'll stick with his reclaimed word.

When the great truths of Political Economy shall become generally known—when men shall be convinced that each person will sell with greater facility the more others gain; that they can only gain by means of labour, capital, or land; that the greater the number of producers the greater the number of consumers; that unproductive consumers are mere representatives of others, and can only consume by means of what others produce; that all nations are interested in the prosperity of each other, and in facilitating the means of communication; that capital or land, and even labour, can only be productive while it is respected as property, and that the poor but industrious man is interested in the defence of the property of the rich, and in maintaining good order, because their subversion may deprive him of the means of subsistence:—when these truths shall be generally known, it will be almost impossible to stir up nations or bodies of men against each other. This science therefore is eminently social, and by teaching that no men can injure others without injuring themselves, and that the advantages gained by others are productive of advantages to themselves, will probably effect what a less interested doctrine has not yet accomplished.

– Translator's preface to Letters to Mr. Malthus (1821) by Jean-Baptiste Say, pp. vi–vii

(The Mises Insitute has also made available J-B Say's Treatise on Political Economy.)

I'd never heard of G.K. Chesterton before reading David Friedman's The Machinery of Freedom. For some reason, Friedman ends his anarchocapitalist manifesto with a defense of G.K. Chesterton against accusations of antisemitism. I learned that Chesterton regularly debated George Bernard Shaw in public on the question of socialism, which endeared him to me without my knowing anything else. I later learned that Chesterton had written a mystery novel about a man who goes undercover to investigate a cell of bomb-throwing anarchists. That sounded like something I had to have a look at, but I've read so little fiction in the past 4 years that I never got around to it.

Then last week, LearnOutLoud.com announced that ChristianAudio.com was giving away a free audiobook of G.K. Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday for the month of April. You still have a week left to grab it.

The text of the novel is available at Project Gutenberg and also at Bartleby.com.

I've only listened to the first chapter (which I then downloaded and read aloud to my wife), but I'm already tempted to give the book high praise. Here's an excerpt from the opening:

Gregory resumed in high oratorical good humour.

"An artist is identical with an anarchist," he cried. "You might transpose the words anywhere. An anarchist is an artist. The man who throws a bomb is an artist, because he prefers a great moment to everything. He sees how much more valuable is one burst of blazing light, one peal of perfect thunder, than the mere common bodies of a few shapeless policemen. An artist disregards all governments, abolishes all conventions. The poet delights in disorder only. If it were not so, the most poetical thing in the world would be the Underground Railway."

"So it is," said Mr. Syme.

"Nonsense!" said Gregory, who was very rational when anyone else attempted paradox. "Why do all the clerks and navvies in the railway trains look so sad and tired, so very sad and tired? I will tell you. It is because they know that the train is going right. It is because they know that whatever place they have taken a ticket for that place they will reach. It is because after they have passed Sloane Square they know that the next station must be Victoria, and nothing but Victoria. Oh, their wild rapture! oh, their eyes like stars and their souls again in Eden, if the next station were unaccountably Baker Street!"

"It is you who are unpoetical," replied the poet Syme. "If what you say of clerks is true, they can only be as prosaic as your poetry. The rare, strange thing is to hit the mark; the gross, obvious thing is to miss it. We feel it is epical when man with one wild arrow strikes a distant bird. Is it not also epical when man with one wild engine strikes a distant station? Chaos is dull; because in chaos the train might indeed go anywhere, to Baker Street or to Bagdad. But man is a magician, and his whole magic is in this, that he does say Victoria, and lo! it is Victoria. No, take your books of mere poetry and prose; let me read a time table, with tears of pride. Take your Byron, who commemorates the defeats of man; give me Bradshaw, who commemorates his victories. Give me Bradshaw, I say!"

[Read the rest »]

Clinton's play has gotten some impressive reactions. Here's one:

Am I Black Enough, Yet? Written by Clinton Johnston Directed by George Grant Produced by Charter Theater with the Hamner Theatre Reviewed by Debbie Minter Jackson This creative script tackles sensitive, poignant, hilarious even bizarre issues involving race and race relations. A cast of five lightening quick actors pop into a variety of roles, improv style, and rip roar through scenes that will induce chuckles, bursts of laughter, stunned silence, or even painful acknowledgment of the fractured life scenes depicted on stage. Written in George C. Wolfe’s Colored Museum type of humor and style, a kind of Wolfe-lite, Am I Black Enough, Yet? has just enough bite to make a point without puncturing, posturing, or preaching.

[Read the rest »]

There are certain lightbulb moments in political economy: the first time you understand price fixing as it relates to shortages and gluts; the first time you understand minimum wage in terms of price fixing; the first time you understand opportunity costs the way Bastiat meant when he wrote of the seen and the unseen; the first time you grasp what is meant by externalization of costs, the tragedy of the commons, moral hazard…

Jörg Guido Hülsmann's "The Political Economy of Moral Hazard" is the type of essay that turns on the lightbulb. It's not that I hadn't grasped the concept of moral hazard before. I had. But somehow JGH puts it all together in a way that seems so simple and obvious and yet it helps pieces slide into place that had perhaps been at odd angles before. It is one of those clarifying essays that won't let you see the world the same way again:

Moral hazard is the incentive of person A to use more resources than he otherwise would have used, because he knows, or believes he knows, that person B will provide some or all of these resources. Many economists have concluded that moral hazard entails market failures.

Jörg Guido Hülsmann shows, however, that moral hazard arises anywhere there is a separation of ownership and control — and further, that moral hazard entails expropriation when ownership and control of a resource are separated without the consent of the owner. This is, in fact, the essence of government interventionism: institutionalized uninvited co-ownership. FULL ARTICLE

About this post, Jeremy left this comment: "Sorry, this is bugging me to no end... what is the pernicious myth about Hamilton vs. Jefferson to which you refer?"

If I took the time to research a reply, I'd probably never respond, and it's a fair question he asks, so here's my off-the-cuff response:

When I was in 3rd grade, we were taught that Jefferson and Hamilton were not only political rivals, but that they represented opposite tendencies in the early American republic: Hamilton representing strong central authority and Jefferson representing decentralization.

So far so good, and even at age 8, I sided with Jefferson.

But since then I've heard other claims from modern Hamiltonians (e.g., Ric Burns, brother of Ken, in his documentary series about the history of New York): that Jefferson was for aristocracy while Hamilton favored meritocracy, that Jefferson was opposed to capitalism and opposed to industry — a sort of primitivist agriculturalist, where Hamilton was all about the power of the market and promoting commerce. These claims are misleading to say the least. A free-market Jeffersonian might even insist that they are backwards.

Then, just recently, Stephan Kinsella posted "Catoites on Hamilton v. Jefferson," which tells us of claims that "Jefferson was also a slaveholding racist — in contrast to Hamilton, whom Wilkinson says 'was against slavery'."

Tom DiLorenzo replies:

Hamilton was not the moral role model that Wilkerson apparently believes he was. He owned "house slaves," returned several runaway slaves to their owners, and once purchased six slaves at a slave auction (biographer Ron Chernow says they were for his brother-in-law). He never advocated abolition per se. He was also a notorious adulterer.

Anthony Gregory will tell you that Thomas Jefferson was not the great libertarian hero some of us sometimes make him out to be. He was especially bad in office. But I think Anthony would agree that in the context of his ideological battles with Hamilton, Jefferson was heroic, and (out of office) he was good on theory and principle as well. He wasn't against industrial capitalism; he was against corporate welfare. There's nothing incompatible with a hard-money free-market advocate having a fondness for farming and a suspicion of Anglo-American capitalists, who were already hand-in-glove with the State before, during, and after the War of Independence.

Hamilton, in contrast, was not in favor of capitalism (not in any free-market sense), but rather the very mercantilism that Adam Smith was denouncing in The Wealth of Nations. He was friendly to big business and industry, not the market. And Hamiltonian meritocracy resembles the Mandarin variety, whereby merit can advance you within a centralized system of privilege. It isn't something that should be confused with individualism or liberty.

There are many pernicious myths of modern history — about the Industrial Revolution versus the working poor, about Jefferson versus Hamilton, about Lincoln versus slavery, about robber barons, railroads, trusts, imperialism, central banking, labor unions, and on and on — but in our current situation, the most dangerous of all these myths is probably the old canard that Hoover's laissez-faire policies got us into the Great Depression and that FDR's New Deal got us out. The first piece to take apart is the claim that Hoover's policies were laissez-faire. Yes we should blame him for the severity and length of the early Depression, but to portray him as a president who was unwilling to intervene in the economy is to get his legacy exactly backwards. See chapter 7 of Murray Rothbard's America's Great Depression:

Postscript: Paul Marks, in a comment at the Mises Blog, calls this chapter "A good section of a good book," but does see a couple of weak spots. Here's one:

I am not sure that the oft repeated claim that Hoover supported laissez-faire is an "ironic twist of fate" - after all this claim was first made by people who knew perfectly well that Hoover was an ardent interventionist.

So "bare faced lie" would be more accurate than "ironic twist of fate".

Of course, now several generations have passed, people (such as media types) who make the "Hoover was a free market person" assumption are NOT telling lies - they are simply comming out with the nonsense they were taught at school and college.