Jewish Capitalism and Religious Liberty

 I would like to follow up on my previous post and consider the implications of what I wrote for Judaism. Does not Judaism have its own tradition of religious liberty, independent of Protestantism? For an explanation, let me turn to the example of Max Weber and Capitalism.

Much as I argued that Protestantism is a crucial ingredient for religious liberty, Weber famously argued that Protestantism played a critical role in the development of Capitalism. For Weber, Protestantism allowed for a “worldly asceticism.” Traditionally societies had operated on the assumption that labor was a curse. Most people were fated to be peasants with only a few having the opportunity to be aristocrats leading lives of leisure. The implication of this was that one worked only as hard as one needed to with the goal of having as much leisure as possible. If you managed to get some money, you should stop working.

In the Protestant model, work became the natural state of affairs for human beings. As such, even rich people, in no danger of starvation, should work. If you managed to get ahold of some money, you should not take an extended vacation. You should not even donate the money to support the Church. Instead, you should invest that money back into your business as capital. Instead of being saved through good works like charity, you are saved by being one of the Elect. A possible sign of being one of the Elect is that God causes you to be successful in business. From this perspective, being a capitalist is not contrary to the Protestant faith. On the contrary, capitalism is the logical fulfillment of Protestantism.

To be clear, Weber recognized that people engaged in capitalist-type behavior long before Protestantism. What Weber was arguing was that Protestantism created an ethical revolution where trade was seen as a principled moral good. Think of it this way, the medieval Church accepted prostitution as a necessary evil. This did not mean that being a prostitute was ok. On the contrary, being a prostitute was something that someone was ashamed of and only did for as long as it was absolutely necessary before trying to get out. Similarly, one was not proud to be a merchant and engage in something as “sterile” as trade. Instead, one made some money from trade before retiring and trying to “atone” for having resorted to such base activity.

In regards to Jews, Weber argued that they were “emergency” capitalists. There is nothing inherently capitalist about Judaism. Ancient Jews were not particularly involved in trade. It was only circumstances in Christian Europe, not anything within Judaism, that caused Jews to develop a capitalist element. Medieval Jews were cut out of most professions, so they turned to money lending. As such, Weber did not believe that Jews provided a model of principled capitalism to say that being a capitalist was a positive good.

In response to Weber, I would argue that it is possible for principles to evolve out of pragmatic necessity. For example, Isaac Abarbanel, living right before the Protestant Reformation, rejected the Aristotelian claim that money was sterile and therefore argued that usury was a positive good. Clearly, Abarbanel did not come to this position from an “objective” reading of the Hebrew Bible. This may have been self-interest, but that should not matter. Abarbanel, presumably, honestly believed that money-lending Jews like himself were morally superior to the Christian nobility responsible for the expulsion of 1492. If claiming that Jews were morally superior to Christians required one to believe that capitalism was a positive good, then we can add capitalism as the fourteenth principle of the Jewish faith.

To be clear, Jews never were in a position to bring about a capitalist ethical revolution by themselves. It is not as if, capitalism ever became acceptable just because the Jews did it. Furthermore, the Jewish experience with capitalism remained linked to their place within Christian society.

Much as Protestantism created the grounds not simply to engage in capitalism as a practical necessity, but as a matter of principle, Protestantism helped lay the groundwork for a principled support for religious liberty. This should be distinguished from a pragmatic tolerance where you refrain from murdering members of another faith because you fear they will murder you back. I would see the Jewish tradition of religious liberty, much like the Jewish tradition of capitalism, as being rooted in the Jewish experience as a persecuted minority. It can be argued that the fact that Jews have needed to support religious tolerance for pragmatic reasons, does not preclude the development of a principled belief in religious liberty that it is better for people to persist in their freely believed error rather than be coerced into the truth. An example of this can be seen in the Jewish disdain for missionary activity. Jews in the ancient world tried to convert non-Jews. During the Middle Ages, Muslim and Christian authorities did not allow Jews to try to convert Muslims and Christians. Today, Jews do not try to convert non-Jews and have even developed theological reasons to justify not trying to “save the souls” of non-Jews.

This does not change the fact that Jewish support for religious liberty came out of a distinct experience with non-Jewish cultures. If you are going to have Jews who support religious liberty on principle rather than as a simple matter of deeming non-Jews as beneath even missionary activity, then it will require someone with positive interactions with non-Jewish religions. An obvious candidate would be some kind of Philo-Semitic Protestantism that acknowledges some legitimacy to the Jewish experience.    

Not Worshipping Markets: Hating Government and Loving Liberty

There is a common misunderstanding about libertarians that we worship the market. We are supposed to believe that market solutions are perfect and if only the government would get out of the way, all our problems would be solved. Someone must have assumed that Adam Smith was not being ironic when he compared the market to an "invisible hand" and (foreshadowing Darwin) argued that it is possible to have an intelligent process without any kind of intelligent designer. The market is not providence. Libertarianism is a distinctly secular (in the classic sense of being neutral about religion) anti-utopian doctrine. We do not believe that anything resembling a perfect world is possible. Human beings are flawed, both intellectually and morally; any human creation, including markets, will inevitably inherit those same flaws to some degree. This anti-utopianism is balanced by an anti-nihilism. If a perfect world is not possible, a significantly better world can be fashioned through the use of reason.

It is because libertarians are such anti-utopians that, more than we have confidence in any Smithian hidden hand, we fear government. (Whether or not I can come up with a good alternative to government licenses, I do fear that the Trump administration will use them to round up opponents. Forgive me for taking liberal concerns over Trump seriously and not as mere political rhetoric.) It is government, particularly the kind that is willing to compromise on the checks and balances means for its own ideological ends, that possesses a utopian streak. Who but a utopian would be unable to imagine a day when the very institutions they created might be turned against them? If government means to use force, even murder, how can one justify committing such violence unless one is supremely confident that each specific government action would either lead to a significantly better world or at least to prevent a worse one from coming about? Furthermore, to agree to pay taxes means buying guns for anonymous people, who will then use them to kill people for reasons that you will never be told. The only way it can be morally justifiable to agree to such a deal is if you believe there is some moral guidance protecting government officials from ever making a mistake (something akin to nineteenth-century Catholic beliefs regarding papal ex-cathedra statements). Note that this is particularly true regarding democratic governments as monarchies and aristocracies deny that personal choice is even relevant to government decisions and claim no moral authority from them.

I would go so far as to say that those who claim that libertarians worship the market are revealing something about their own worship of government. They are so enraptured with government as the solution that they cannot imagine someone questioning the legitimacy of government as an instrument of violence and therefore considering an alternative. They, therefore, attribute their own utopian faith in government to libertarians and accuse libertarians of being market worshipers.

A useful test as to whether someone tolerates government simply on pragmatic grounds or worships it as the key to man's salvation is if someone is inclined to accuse libertarians of market worship. It should follow naturally for government pragmatists, who believe that government is an inherently flawed institution, that a better solution is hypothetically possible and that other people will wish to pursue it. Such people might be wrong in regard to their proposed alternatives, but there is no reason to assume that they are motivated by a blind faith in markets.

Alternatively, we can examine if a person is willing to accept Max Weber's (not a libertarian) definition of government as a "monopoly on violence." A person who feels the need to dance around the issue that government is an act of violence is presumably doing so because they are so wrapped up in government worship that they cannot think outside of it. If government is people coming together for the sake of civilization, peace, and love while everything else is darkness, then government cannot be violent. On the contrary, it is those who reject government who must be violent as they are opposing civilization, peace, and love.

For all of my talk about hating government and that taxation is theft, I do believe it is important to recognize the limitations of such a position. A libertarianism whose hatred of government is not matched by a love of liberty will fall to nihilism and eventually authoritarianism. The rise of the alt-right and Donald Trump should make this obvious. Part of the blame for the alt-right and Trump lies within the Rothbardian libertarian tradition as embodied by figures such as Ron Paul, Walter Block, and Tom Woods. (To any Rothbardians out there, much as part of the problem with government worshipers is that they cannot imagine how anyone in good faith could think of them as violent, your inability to imagine how someone in good faith might think that you are enabling the alt-right is a big part of the problem.) I supported Ron Paul for president and highly recommend Block's Defending the Undefendable as a gateway into accepting the more radical implications of libertarianism. The Rothbardians deserve a lot of credit for keeping the libertarian focus on the immorality of government. Without them, it would be too easy to fall into making pragmatic compromises that would endanger the soul of the movement. Rothbardians are an important part of libertarianism and need to be kept as part of the family. That being said, the Rothbardian habit of focusing on opposition to the government to the exclusion of almost anything else led to the development of a certain blind spot for angry white men, who hate the government and even the Federal Reserve, ignoring whether such views came from a genuine love of liberty.

Ideally, there should not be any laws against private discrimination. This does not mean that libertarians should not be extremely wary of those whose main objection to government is that it bans discrimination. It very well may be that Donald Trump was not worse than other Republican candidates and that the liberal media hated him the most. This does not mean that one should form a Libertarians for Trump group.

This also has implications for dealing with terrorism and authoritarianism. There are good reasons to oppose US policy in the Middle East. Benjamin Netanyahu and the Likud are not libertarians. I would even go so far as to say that a large part of the Israeli-Palestinian problem has been caused by thinking in terms of states as opposed to private property owners, whether Jews or Muslims, coming to personal agreements, likely leading to some kind of multi-political entity peace plan. That being said, this does not mean that one should not actively be more against Hamas, Assad, or Putin than Israel. As libertarians, we should not support intervention in Syria even if Assad used chemical weapons against his own people. To go out on a limb to argue that he did not use such weapons and is merely the victim of a neo-conservative conspiracy (possibly true) is to signal that you are motivated by something other than liberty, likely a willingness to think well of anyone the CIA hates. That is an apology for authoritarianism and defending oneself by saying that libertarianism opposes tyranny, while true, simply means that one has completely betrayed libertarian ideals to the extent that libertarianism has become a dead letter ideology whose chief value now is to serve as moral cover for what libertarians should abhor.

You can justify supporting Trump on libertarian grounds (just as it would not be a contradiction for a libertarian to "feel the Bern.") There are also arguments to be made in favor of Hamas, Assad, and Putin. That being said, if, out of all the issues in the world you could have chosen, you go for one of these, I cannot take you seriously as being a libertarian in good faith. This issue is important precisely because libertarianism really can be used to justify anything in practice. Therefore, a libertarian movement requires that certain positions, a priori, render a person unacceptable for membership. Note that such a person might still be a righteous libertarian at heart even as I exclude him but not others who are ideologically less pure.

If one takes a step back to look at the Rothbardians, there is a deeper problem than Trump and other kinds of authoritarian apologetics. One is always going to have a lot of latitude in who to attack and who to defend when analyzed on a case-by-case basis. Inconsistencies are only going to appear when you compare who someone attacks with whom they defend. One of the curiosities of the Rothbardians is the paradox of both demanding strict ideological purity to the extent of attacking other libertarians with a willingness to tolerate figures from the alt-right. This apparent contradiction begins to make a frightening amount of sense if you take a party approach to ideology. If you assume that the point of libertarianism is to fight the government, you are going to have a problem in deciding between all the different ways of doing so. If you wish to maintain the pretense that your system is complete then you are going to need some kind of party to make decisions as to which of the many possibilities is the one true path. This means that party loyalty becomes the ideology. Under such circumstances, it becomes necessary to demonstrate party loyalty in an antinomian fashion by doing things that would otherwise appear to go against one's ideology. Rothbardians believe more in their party's strategy of courting angry white men, who hate the government than they believe in liberty. In the end, their libertarianism devolves into promoting non-libertarian ideas like "blood and soil" and claiming to be all the more libertarian for doing so.

A libertarian hatred of government needs to be matched with a love of liberty as an ongoing dialectic. For me, loving liberty means that each person has value as a narrative that they control through personal choices. People's choices matter all the more when we think that they are making a mistake. If it is not a mistake, then the choice has no positive value as a choice. Considering the limitations of human beings with their finite knowledge and lifespans, if people only remained individuals, their lives could have little meaning. Thus, the central choice of any human narrative is which society (if any and when) should a person submit themselves to. (Note that even Ayn Rand's heroes in Atlas Shrugged join a society.) To initiate aggression is to negate a person's choice, their very meaning in life. As government is the monopoly on violence, government stands as the de facto primary threat to choice. To equate government with society is to deny humans that most critical choice of all, what society to join and under what terms.

In loving liberty and not just hating government there is a challenge. If that love is expressed just in market terms, then it is going to look awfully like market worship. What is needed is an embracement of the full range of human choices, including ones that we do not approve of. It should be noted that just as this model celebrates the rights of individuals to defy society, it takes it as a given that there can be such a thing as something society disapproves of. Hence the celebration of choice has the paradoxical requirement of opposing the action. There can be no such thing as celebrating a choice you approve of. For example, I can celebrate the liberty of gay marriage precisely to the extent that I mourn the loss of traditional values. Similarly, I can celebrate the liberty of bakers refusing to bake gay wedding cakes as manifestations of intolerance. In both cases, I have paid the necessary "blood price" to allow liberty to have meaning. Note that this is not some utopian faith in liberty as leading to an ideal world. On the contrary, such liberty is founded on its tragic implications, one that ought to be avoided, human life having meaning be damned, if it were not for the fact that the government alternative is simply too horrific to accept.

Libertarianism is not some dangerous cult that encourages people to worship the market and be paranoid about the government. On the contrary, it accepts the sobering reality that government is an act of violence. The libertarian walks out from the ruins of his utopian dreams that he has abandoned with his rejection of government and seeks to learn to love the hard road of liberty. Hating the government is easy. Loving liberty, with all of its imperfections, is a challenge worth embracing.

Narnia, Game of Thrones, and the Stormlight Chronicles: the Reenchantmant of Fantasy (Part I)

(Happy birthday to Lionel Spiegel.)

I drive my son Kalman to and from pre-school most weekdays. In the car, he usually asks to listen to Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis. You can clock an average trip as the amount of time it takes to get from the beginning of the book until Mr. Tumnus confesses that he is in the pay of the White Witch as her kidnapper. Kalman knows that the White Witch is bad because she is the government and she makes it always winter. I guess I can live with him not picking up on the "and never Christmas" part.

Lewis opened with one of the finest dedications ever. Writing to Lucy Barfield, the daughter of fellow Inkling, Owen Barfield, Lewis apologized to the teenage girl that she grew up faster than he could write but he hopes that one day she will be old enough to read fairy tales once again. This is a good example of one of the key concepts in Lewis' writing, reenchantment; that one can once again fall in love with the things of childhood that one's more cynical self had abandoned as part of "growing up."

Reenchantment should be understood as a response to Max Weber's notion of disenchantment and Friederich Nietzsche's more poetic "God is dead." Disenchantment is the notion that under modernity our very way of thinking is materialistic and does not allow us to truly operate within a supernaturalist framework. For example, early in LWW, the other children are simply unable to believe that Lucy has traveled to Narnia; to them, it is simply not possible that she could be anything else but either a liar or insane. They are prejudiced against belief even though logically there is nothing to suggest that portals to other universes do not exist.

It is important to understand that contrary to conventional secularist theories of modernity, Weber was not claiming that modernity had intellectually refuted religion and that people, particularly the educated, no longer believed. On the contrary, the prospect of modern secularism could cause many people to cling more tightly than ever to the outward forms of religion. Thus, it may even appear that religion is doing better than ever under modernity with more people attending church and insisting on hardline fundamentalist interpretations of the faith. That being said, such religiosity only serves to cover the fact that religion has been fossilized into something that people practice out of tradition. As such, it lacks the ability to truly inspire its adherents. In this sense, disenchantment stands as a far graver threat to religion than simple secularism. If people are convinced by argument to abandon religion then it might be possible to engage in apologetics and win them back. On the other hand, if people stop believing not because of any argument and without even realizing that they no longer believe then it is practically impossible to ever bring them back.

In addition to religious disenchantment, Lewis, in his own personal experience, confronted a more tangible disenchantment, World War I. Lewis was part of a generation of young Englishmen, who listened to their teachers and did the "right and honorable thing;" they marched off to the French trenches to be slaughtered in the mud, sacrificed to pay for the political and military miscalculations of their elders.

World War I was the death of heroism. In an earlier generation, a man could be said to be brave to stand tall in the face of enemy fire and resolutely march forward. One might die in the attempt but one could believe that he was sacrificing himself to spur his comrades on to victory. During World War I, that became suicide. Thus, the very ethos of heroism led men to their deaths in utter futility. It should be emphasized that dying was never the issue. Young men have always been marched off to war by their elders and died in great numbers. What was new here was this sense of futility that robbed one even of the ability to honor the dead for their sacrifice. By contrast, World War II could once again offer a cause to die for even as it brought the new disenchantment of the massive aerial bombardment of urban centers. As with disenchantment with religion, what was at stake was less an intellectual attack on heroism but the inability, at a gut level, to take heroism seriously in the first place. Someone who seems heroic must either be a scoundrel trying to deceive others or a fool to have bought into such nonsense.

As with fellow veteran J. R. R. Tolkien, Lewis' use of fantasy can be seen as an attempt to become reenchanted with heroism. For example, in Narnia, the children are able to abandon the air raids of World War II for a land in which chivalry is still possible. This reenchantment must be understood as something distinct from enchantment. The horrors of the World Wars were real and there can be no going back. That being said, the fantasies of Lewis and Tolkien were attempts to acknowledge the incomprehensible horror of what they experienced yet still allow for heroism. If the blood and the mud were real, the courage shown by the men was equally real.

This project of using fantasy to resurrect heroism must be understood within a larger effort to bring about the reenchantment with religion. Was it not that earlier generation of disenchanted believers, with their mixture of Christian ritual now supplemented with a sense of duty to king and country and a confidence in progress all while being hopelessly naive regarding the implications of industrialized warfare, that had sent all those young men to die? Perhaps, it was not heroism that was obsolete, but the ideologies of modernity? (See Joseph Loconte's Hobbit, a Wardrobe and a Great War.)

If one could recover heroism, perhaps it could lead back to faith and to a religion that might once again be relevant to a modern world. As Screwtape, the Satan of Lewis' disenchanted world, notes, the very fact that non-believers (much like the teenage Lewis, who was then an atheist) march off to war, to give themselves to a cause larger than themselves places them at risk of becoming open to the "enemy." Part of what is going on here is the ability to believe in things that are beyond the physical senses. Disenchantment works precisely by taking the physical as the gold standard of what is real. Thus, before the debate even begins, the spiritual has already lost to be relegated to being less real. The moment we introduce something that is non-physical yet more real than the world of the senses, the spell of disenchantment is broken and the process of reenchantment can begin.

Regardless of this wider religious context, a major aspect of Lewis and Tolkien's legacy to fantasy as a genre has been a kind of optimistic faith in heroism in the face of modern cynicism. (In Lord of the Rings, this optimism is only sharpened by the fact that the book is fundamentally a tragedy.) Thus, it could only be expected that if Lewis and Tolkien represented a kind of enchantment with heroic fantasy, it would produce a backlash of disenchanted fantasy. The most important example of this has been George R. R. Martin's Game of Thrones series. This series is a repeated exercise in both the physical and ideological murder of heroism. Those like Ned Stark and his son Robb, who risk themselves doing the right thing, do not come out ahead. It is not even that they die achieving some noble goal. On the contrary, they come to ignominious ends marked by utter futility. On the other side, you have the anti-heroism of Jaime Lannister. Jaime commits regicide and incest even as the former probably saved lives and he is faithful to his sister as his one true love. To Martin's credit, Jaime fails to be a simple caricature of chivalry. Rather, (much like the more comic Harry Flashman), readers can still love Jaime for his simple honesty in knowing himself to be a scoundrel. In a world without moral absolutes, hypocrisy is the only sin and honesty in one's sinfulness the only virtue.             

History 112: Brave New World of Economics (Part I)

For the past few sessions we have been focusing on the religious changes occurring during the early modern period. Today I would like to move into the realm of economics. By way of transition I would like to consider the thesis of Max Weber that Protestantism led to the rise of Capitalism. What do people like Martin Luther and John Calvin have to with Capitalism? Justification by faith, reading the Bible and rejecting the Pope and many of the sacraments may all be very nice things, but they do not appear to have anything to do with economics. You have just come into some money, what do you do with it? If you are a Catholic you might give it to the Church to buy Masses for yourself, to support monasteries and to adorn your local cathedral with gold adornment. Come the Reformation and you are now a Protestant; no more lavish Masses, no more cathedrals full statues to that saints (that is all papist idolatry now), no more gold crucifixes adorned with jewels. So what are you going to spend your money on? How about buying shares in a boat going to India. This is Max Weber. As we have seen from our reading, there are Catholic merchants, so things are a bit more complicated than Weber had it; Catholics are also involved in this economic revolution.

The discovery of the New World and the Age of Discovery profoundly affected life in Europe. It was not just a matter of some explorers traveling to some place that no European had been before and planting a flag in the ground. Different countries were affected in different ways. Spain and England offer useful contrasts in this.

Spain hit the monetary jackpot with Mexico and Peru as Hernan Cortez and Francisco Pizaro respectively conquered the Aztec and Incan empires. This was one of the worst things to ever happened to Spain and it was the ruin of Spanish civilization. You have heard stories of lottery winners whose lives were destroyed by winning; the same was true with Spain. People in the sixteenth century did not see things this way. The rest of Europe salivated as Spain was able to spend itself to its heart’s content; war in the Netherlands, sure thing, Spanish Armada, not a problem. Starting in the seventeenth century, though, Spain went into a decline that they never recovered from.

How could finding so much gold be a bad thing? First you should consider what gold is actually worth. You understand that paper currency has no utilitarian value and in of itself is absolutely worthless. If President Obama would decide to try boosting his approval ratings by handing out a million dollars to every single American, no one would actually be helped by it. We would simply have inflation. At the end of the day gold is really no better. Like paper currency gold has little utilitarian value in of itself. Gold from the New World brought no real wealth back to Spain. It gets even worse. Where was the biggest share of this gold going to? The Crown. Regular Spaniards did not benefit from this. Furthermore now that the Spanish monarchy was completely self sufficient, monetarily speaking, it had no need to reform itself. Previously we learned about Charles I needing parliament in order to raise funds. If you are Philip II you have no such problems and can rule as an autocrat to your heart’s content. A modern example of this is Saudi Arabia where the house of Saud is completely protected by their wealth in oil and can safely ignore any call to reform either from the West or from their own people.

England, on the other hand, had a very different experience. For example, they came to Jamestown in 1607 looking for gold. They did not find any. Probably one of the greatest things ever to happen to them. How can this be? Once the colonists, those who survived the first few years, realized that they were not going to find gold they settled down and started growing tobacco. While we know now that smoking is addictive and causes cancer and are paying the price for the introduction of tobacco into European culture, tobacco is an actual product with real value. England therefore received something that was actually worth something. More importantly they developed a culture of trade. They become a model of Max Weber’s Protestant work ethic. Spain on the other hand, as the Catholic country par excellence, become a model of Weber’s Catholic non mercantile culture.

(To be continued …)