So writes Aeon Skoble, a philosopher possessed of an all-too-rare combination of rigorous logic, empathy, and imagination. This opening line ably and honestly captures the essence of his 2008 book, Deleting the State.
Something in me--at some level--says that Skoble’s desire for political anarchism must be wrong. But, admittedly, I have a hard time finding what it is, no matter how hard I try after reading Deleting the State. Not only can Skoble write very well (and, for an academic, very clearly), but he writes in such an earnest and intellectual manner, that it’s hard to disagree with him.
“Centralized, coercive political authority--the State--is not necessary.”
So writes Aeon Skoble, a philosopher possessed of an all-too-rare combination of rigorous logic, empathy, and imagination. This opening line ably and honestly captures the essence of his 2008 book, Deleting the State.
Something in me--at some level--says that Skoble’s desire for political anarchism must be wrong. But, admittedly, I have a hard time finding what it is, no matter how hard I try after reading Deleting the State. Not only can Skoble write very well (and, for an academic, very clearly), but he writes in such an earnest and intellectual manner, that it’s hard to disagree with him.
Some of my historian training might find fault with some of his philosophical training, but my criticisms at a scholarly level are rather minor. I’m only sorry I waited two years to delve into the book with any seriousness. I’ve been told by many of my friends how important this book is, and I’ve even lectured on Skoble’s arguments in my now sadly defunct course on American notions of order and disorder (frankly, a course on Anglo-American Christian Humanism in the twentieth century). But, only recently did I purchase and read the book.
Over the past several weeks, I’ve had the opportunity to work with a number of insightful and persuasive (as intellects and as souls) classical liberals--Larry Reed, Ben Stafford, David Beito, Carl Oberg, David Hart, Mark LeBar, Christina Mulligan, Howie Baetjer, Art Carden. I’ve also had meaningful conversations with political philosopher, R.J. Pestritto, and with economist and cultural critic, Mark Steckbeck. These encounters have only brought me back, time and time again this summer, to question the nature of the State and its proper role.
A disturbing exploration of the militarization of the once republican city of Washington, D.C.; some observations of the fascistic (well, fascism with a smile) TSA; the bullying and arrogance of our so-called president (wouldn’t it be great if he presided elsewhere?); the sheer stupidity of our Speaker of the House (where is John Randolph when we need him?); the realization that the Ohio Highway Patrol would rather collect fees than actually stop crime and defend the law have NOT done much to bolster my confidence in the State this summer.
And, it’s the Fourth of July. Can any honest person imagine any one of the signers of the Declaration putting up with the kind of intrusions by our federal government and its hydra-like tentacles any and every one of us accepts every minute of every day in our lives? I repeat in OUR lives.
I’ll only quote one Founder (who didn’t sign the Declaration, but who took up arms and who wrote the Articles of Confederation) to show the immense gap between the statesmen of 1776 and the scoundrels of 2010:
“Our vigilance and our union are success and safety. Our negligence and our division are distress and death. They are worse—They are shame and slavery. Let us equally shun the benumbing stillness of overweening sloth, and the feverish activity of that ill informed zeal, which busies itself in maintaining little, mean and narrow opinions. Let us, with a truly wise generosity and charity, banish and discourage all illiberal distinctions, which may arise from differences in situation, forms of government, or modes of religion. Let us consider ourselves as MEN—FREEMEN—CHRISTIAN FREEMEN—separated from the rest of the world, and firmly bound together by the same rights, interests and dangers. Let these keep our attention inflexibly fixed on the GREAT OBJECTS, which we must CONTINUALLY REGARD, in order to preserve those rights, to promote those interests, and to avert those dangers. Let these truths be indelibly impressed on our minds—that we cannot be HAPPY, without being FREE—that we cannot be free, without being secure in our property—that we cannot be secure in our property, if, without our consent, others may, as by right, take it away—that taxes imposed on us by parliament, do thus take it away—that duties laid for the sole purpose of raising money, are taxes—that attempts to lay such duties should be instantly and firmly opposed—that this opposition can never be effectual, unless it is the united effort of these provinces—that therefore BENEVOLENCE of temper towards each other, and UNANIMITY of counsels, are essential to the welfare of the whole—and lastly, that for this reason, every man among us, who in any manner would encourage either dissension, dissidence, or indifference, between these colonies, is an enemy to himself, and to his country. . . . Let us take care of our rights, and we therein take care of our prosperity. ‘SLAVERY IS EVER PRECEDED BY SLEEP.’” [John Dickinson, Letters from a Pennsylvania Farmer, Letter 12]
But, back to Skoble’s excellent book. The author makes clear that he is not arguing for a radical subjectivism or a moral anarchy. “The distinction between political authority and other sorts of authority is one which occupies considerable portions of what follow, but for now suffice it to say that I am not advancing an argument for moral subjectivism . . . . I am speaking here only of the authority of the state, of political leaders or rulers.”
There is much in the historical tradition of the West to support Skoble’s separation of political authority from cultural and other types of authority. One only has to look the medieval world (especially Iceland from 1000-1300) to see a world so full of tiny polycentric political authorities to realize that politics was, at best, secondary to the medieval world. Instead, Latin, Catholicism, and culture held together Christendom.
History has demonstrated the horrors of the State. It is, after all, responsible for murdering nearly 205,000,000 innocents in the 20th century. Add another 50,000,000 soldiers to the stats, and the 20th century ranks as the single bloodiest century in human history.
There are some places, however, where Skoble could be more specific. For example, he writes, “In the liberal tradition, there is no natural being called ‘a state.’” Here, I think author is being too gross in his language. I’m sure within certain classical liberal traditions, this is true. But, when I think of those I would easily put into the 19th century American classical liberal tradition--such as Thomas Jefferson, E.L. Godkin, or Grover Cleveland--I see no argument in favor of the artificiality of the state. There might be disagreements on what form the state might take, and it might very well come about through the agency of men and free will, but it is still natural.
Additionally, one generally begins the classical liberal tradition in the seventeenth century. Yet, many grand and important thinkers--from Socrates to Cicero to Aquinas to Calvin--had argued in favor of some form of political governance, though to what extent has been the question, prior to the recognized beginning of liberalism.
None of this, however, should be taken as anything serious in the way of criticizing Skoble’s book. No matter what historical nit-picking I might engage in, the book remains an important--probably vital, given the times--and necessary work. Skoble, indeed, has done a great service to the western and American traditions with Deleting the State.
Throughout the book, as mentioned above, Skoble demonstrates not only his vast grasp of thinkers from Hobbes forward, but he so earnestly engages each of these thinker that the reader simply cannot put the book down. While I still have serious reservations about political anarchy, my reservations must now linger at an emotional and instinctive levels, not at a rational or reasonable levels. Skoble has undercut every logical criticism I’ve had regarding the necessity of the State.
http://www.tvworldwide.com/events/hillsdale/100130/session3.html
Enjoy.
• Couldn’t vote
• Couldn’t hold office
• Couldn’t bear witness/testify in a court of law
• Couldn’t practice law
• Had to practice his religion, ultimately, in a private chapel
• Had his land double (and sometimes more) taxed; additionally, his land was always liable to confiscation during times of war, especially if against Catholics
• Often could not raise a child in the “Catholic fashion” without having the child forcibly removed from the Catholic parent(s) and shipped to England to live with a Protestant family.
The end of such laws also reveal the power of the American Revolution, for the extra legal associations of 1774 swept aside these laws, even as the First Continental Congress condemned the Quebec Act on October 21, 1774, viewing the act as a “power, to reduce the ancient, free Protestant colonies to . . . slavery. . . Nor can we suppress our astonishment that a British parliament should ever consent to establish in that country a religion that has deluged your island with blood, and dispersed impiety, bigotry, persecution, murder and rebellion through every part of the world.”
What a world.
If you’re interested, here’s an article about Cruz:
http://www.tedcruz.org/pdf/cruz_profile.pdf
http://www.nhinet.org/birzer21-1.pdf
The same issue has pieces by Claes Ryn and others.
http://www.kirkcenter.org/index.php/bookman/46-4/
As I dug around, I must admit I was rather astounded by what I found in terms of his ideas as well as by the importance conferred upon him by his generation. To my mind, history should never have forgotten him, and we would do well to remember him and what he wrote. Indeed, the German shell that took his life in the early autumn of 1917 might have changed a considerable part of the twentieth century by removing Hulme from it.
Eliot, certainly one of the greatest of twentieth-century men, understood the importance of Hulme in 1924. Eliot saw him as the new man—the twentieth-century man. In April 1924, he wrote: “When Hulme was killed in Flanders in 1917 . . . he was known to a few people as a brilliant talker, a brilliant amateur of metaphysics, and the author of two or three of the most beautiful short poems in the language. In this volume [the posthumous Speculations, edited by Herbert Read] he appears as the forerunner of a new attitude of mind, which should be the twentieth-century mind, if the twentieth century is to have a mind of its own.” Hulme is “classical, reactionary, and revolutionary; he is the antipodes of the eclectic, tolerant, and democratic mind of the end of the last century . . . . A new classical age will be reached when the dogma. . . of the critic is so modified by contact with creative writing, and when the creative writers are so permeated by the new dogma, that a state of equilibrium is reached. For what is meant by a classical moment in literature is surely a moment of stasis, when the creative impulse finds a form which satisfies the best intellect of the time, a moment when a type is produced.” Eliot continued to praise Hulme in his private letters. In one, he stated bluntly to Allen Tate, “Hulme has influenced me enormously.” In another, Eliot claimed Hulme to be “the most remarkable theologian of my generation.” Historian Christopher Dawson believed that Hulme, almost alone in his generation, understood the dangers of progressivism: “The essentially transitory character of the humanist culture has been obscured by the dominance of the belief in Progress and by the shallow and dogmatic optimism which characterized nineteenth-century Liberalism. It was only an exceptionally original mind, like that of the late T.E. Hulme, that could free itself from the influence of Liberal dogma and recognize the sign of the times—the passing of the ideals that had dominated European civilization for four centuries, and the dawn of a new order.” A writer in the New York Times in 1960 summed up Hulme’s influence nicely: “T.E. Hulme had modified the consciousness of his age in such a way that by 1939 his name had become part of a myth.” Hulme, from all accounts, possessed a rather powerful personality, able to form communities of thought and art around himself. Most credit Hulme with founding Imagist poetry. Here’s one of Hulme’s 1909 poem, entitled “AUTUMN” “A touch of cold in the Autumn night— I walked abroad, And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge Like a red-faced farmer. I did not stop to speak, but nodded, And round about were the wistful stars With white faces like town children.” While this poem doesn’t strike me as anything profound in terms of its theme (though, maybe I’ve not spent enough time with it), I can readily see its influence on the work of Eliot. Could Eliot have produced The Wasteland, The Hollow Men, or the Four Quartets without the influence of Hulme and the school of poetry he founded? The Four Quartets is arguably the greatest work of art of the twentieth century. If for no other reason, I’m truly thankful Hulme contributed what he did simply in offering this new form of poetry. Like Eliot, Hulme adopted and accepted modernist forms of art while rejecting the meaning and essence of modernity. In one of his most powerful essays, defining the nature of humanism, properly understood, Hulme argued that all scholarship and art must begin with the premise (fact) of original sin. “What is important, is what nobody seems to realise--the dogmas like that of Original Sin, which are the closest expression of the categories of the religious attitude. That man is in no sense perfect but a wretched creature who can yet apprehend perfection.” Rousseauvian/enlightenment thinking had moved society away from understanding this fundamental truth of the human person. As Hulme saw it, Rousseauvianism is a “heresy, a mistaken adoption of false conceptions.” By focusing on feelings and individual desires and blind lusts (and glorifying them) it attempts to allow man to become a God—and, as a result, “creates a bastard conception of Personality.” The human person only overcomes his depravity though heroic virtue, Hulme argued: “From the pessimistic conception of man comes naturally the heroic task requiring heroic qualities. . . virtues which are not likely to flourish on the soil of a rational and skeptical ethic. This regeneration can, on the contrary, only be brought about and only be maintained by actions springing from an ethic which from the narrow rationalist standpoint is irrational being not relative, but absolute.” When Hulme received a commission in the British Army during the Great War, he embraced what he had preached, and he gave his life as a patriot of western civilization. If only Hulme’s mind—per Eliot’s wishful thinking in 1924—had become the “twentieth-century mind.” We might very well have avoided a world immersed in ideological terror on one side and in flabby citizens demanding stimulus packages on the other. http://web.me.com/bradleybirzer/Site/Stormfields%3A_The_Occasional_Blog/Entries/2009/2/26_T.E._Hulme_(1883-1917).html
http://www.thefreemanonline.org/columns/the-true-meaning-of-patriotism/
