Jan Narveson

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.

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

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

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.