Jan Narveson

My main complaint about Dworkin's papers on equality was that he had not said much by way of arguing for it. His intriguing response to this request provides a good start, and I shall confine this brief, further comment to what he says on that basic subject. Space considerations, alas, require me to ignore the other parts of his discussion. Dworkin distinguishes what he calls the “abstract egalitarian thesis” from his particular version of equalitarianism, equality of resources. His strategy is to argue, first, that the latter is the best realization or version of the former, and then to argue for the general thesis itself. In my comments, I shall reverse this order, however, for reasons that will be clear as we proceed. 1. TheEgalitarian Thesis Dworkin states this as follows: “From the standpoint of politics, the interests of the members of the community matter, and matter equally.” The statement is intended to be abstract in the sense that it would “embrace various competing conceptions of equality,” so that in principle we can divide the discussion the way Dworkin has done into the two questions, “Should we accept equality as a principle at all?” and “What is the best version of equality, at what we might call the constitutional level?” But can we really do this? I am not entirely clear that we can. In order to appreciate the difficulty here, at any rate, consider Dworkin's suggestion that ”in order to sharpen the question” – the question whether to accept equality as a principle at all, that is –“I ask you to suppose that the abstract egalitarian principle does provide a good argument for subsidized medicine…” Now, some might think that such a program is paradigm case of what ought to be rejected at the public level, and yet his reasons for such rejection might very well be based on a principle that its proponent would regard as abstractly egalitarian

Few questions about utilitarianism have been more vexed than that of its relation to rights. It is commonplace to hold that there are nonutilitarian rights, rights not founded on considerations of utility. And it is even thought that the very notion of rights is inherently incapable of being significantly employed within the utilitarian framework. In the present paper, I wish to consider both of these matters. I propose to give reasons—mostly not really new—for rejecting the stronger, conceptual claim; and on the former, substantial question, I want to argue that the utilitarian at least has a respectable way of handling the vocabulary of rights, even a useful one. Further, I shall argue that what the utilitarian—in particular, J. S. Mill—has to say about rights is quite plausible, though I shall conclude with a question about how illuminating it is.

Aggregation in moral philosophy calls for the summing or averaging of values or utilities as a guide to individual behavior. But morality, it is argued, needs to be individualistic, in view of the evident separateness of persons, especially given the great disparities among individuals who nevertheless interact with each other in social life. The most plausible general moral program is the classical liberal (or “libertarian”) one calling for mutual noninterference rather than treating others as equal to oneself in point of demands on our action. Why, then, would we ever aggregate? The reason is that we are affected by behavior that has general effects, especially unintended side effects, on all sorts of people among whom we ourselves are often to be found. When we are randomly situated among such groups—as we sometimes are and often are not—minimizing aggregate harm is the plausible strategy, and sometimes promoting aggregate benefit as well.

The argument of the "Invisible Hand" is that the system of free enterprise benefits society in general even though it is not the aim of any particular economic agent to do that. This article proposes an analysis of why this is so. The key is that the morality of the market forbids only force and fraud; it does not require people to do good to others. Nevertheless, when all transactions are voluntary to both parties, that is exactly what we can expect to happen. This is both because the sum of the benefits of innumerable transactions, which are beneficial to both parties, is very great, but also and especially because of Positive Externalities. People use the particular products and services they get in market exchanges in ways that benefit others in ways not at all foreseen by the agents to those transactions at the time. These externalities range from the benefits of invention and ingenuity to the exercise of charity and philanthropy, all of which flourish in developed capitalist societies

This essay addresses the on-going controversy between supporters of minimal government, or minarchists, and supporters of no government, or anarchists. Both lay claim to the Libertarian principle, which holds that the only justification for the use of force is to deal with aggressive force initiated by someone else. Both agree that force is justified in dealing with aggressors. The only question is, who wields it, and how? The essay explains, briefly, the role of private property in all this. Private property is really just the operation of the liberty principle in the area of the use of things outside ourselves: those who initiate use of such things will have their activities subject to continual invasion unless property is recognized, and so property is the natural outcome of liberty, taken seriously. But the trouble is, states are monopolies, and maintain themselves at public expense, by taxation. This inevitably means interference with private property rights. And so, if we deal with aggressors via the state, we turn into partial aggressors ourselves, it seems. The essay points out that and why both minarchism and anarchism are virtually impossible in contemporary circumstances, but at the level of basic theory, at any rate, the anarchist appears to have the better of it

As I sit down to begin this essay, the strains of “Tristan und Isolde” are still ringing in my ears; meanwhile, another dozen or so Pakistanian refugees have died for lack of sufficient food, shelter, or medical attention, probably, during the time it will have taken to compose this paragraph. The Isolde in that performance commanded, probably, a fee of four or five thousand dollars; each member of the audience paid, on the average, perhaps ten dollars to see the performance. This works out, probably, to an average of one year’s worth of refugees kept alive and in some sort of health for every two members of the audience, or about two hundred for the wages of the leading soprano for one evening. The arithmetic is doubtless inaccurate: possibly it would require as much as three opera tickets to keep our refugee going, and Isolde could manage but fifty. But the orders of magnitude are about right.

At the present time and for the foreseeable future, likely, there is no defence, strictly speaking, against nuclear weapons. Nations facing a threat of attack involving nuclear weapons, therefore, have only three alternatives: resort to deterrence, try to get by with conventional defences, or surrender. It is discussable which of these is the most prudent option for any given nation, but I argue that we cannot accept any view entailing that the first is not a right. What we can do, however, is to insist that even deterrence be as nearly as possible a purely defensive effort. This can be done by maintaining a military establishment which is incapable of serving offensive purposes, however capable it is of serving defensive ones. If all of the world’s States were thus equipped, there could be no rational prospect of nuclear war. The recently developed Cruise Missile exemplifies a weapons system that would make this possible.

This collection addresses the central issue of political philosophy or, in a couple of cases, issues very close to the heart of that question: Is government justified? This ancient question has never been more alive than at the present time, in the midst of continuing political and social upheaval in virtually every part of the world. Only two of the pieces collected here have been published previously. All the other contributions were, at the time of the inception of the volume, fresh from the pens, or still to emerge from the pens, of their authors.

The general thrust of Neil Levy's paper is that a certain amount of paternalism should be viewed as compatible with liberalism.1 I am not quite convinced that what he is defending is properly paternalism. In addition, I am not entirely sure what his proposal is. Here are a few comments about several points in the paper.1. A possibly small question is worth raising when Levy says, ‘That is, the state may not interfere with individuals’ actions, even to promote their own conception of the good. This claim is typically justified on epistemic grounds: individuals are best placed to judge for themselves how to pursue their conception of the good.’But I don't think that this is quite the right picture, though admittedly, it has often been suggested by liberals. Still: if it's a matter of ‘epistemic’ grounds, then that implies that there is something out there to be known, so that the question is, how do we go about knowing it? But this way of putting it is misleading. For liberalism says that whenever anybody, B, other than the individual we are considering, say A, claims that what is good for A is something ‘out there’—something that can strongly contradict what A thinks for his own case—then that outsider has no authority to override A's preference. This isn't epistemic—it's a moral position.If we were to talk of ‘epistemic’ here, presumably what is known in this case is how the individual …