The Stone is a forum for contemporary philosophers on issues both timely and timeless.
Regardless of who wins the presidential election, we already know now how most of the
electoral map
will be colored, which will be close to the way it has been colored for
decades. Broadly speaking, the Southern and Western desert and mountain
states will vote for the candidate who endorses an aggressive military,
a role for religion in public life, laissez-faire economic policies,
private ownership of guns and relaxed conditions for using them, less
regulation and taxation, and a valorization of the traditional family.
Northeastern and most coastal states will vote for the candidate who is
more closely aligned with international cooperation and engagement,
secularism and science, gun control, individual freedom in culture and
sexuality, and a greater role for the government in protecting the
environment and ensuring economic equality
But
why do ideology and geography cluster so predictably? Why, if you know a
person’s position on gay marriage, can you predict that he or she will
want to increase the military budget and decrease the tax rate, and is
more likely to hail from Wyoming or Georgia than from Minnesota or
Vermont? To be sure, some of these affinities may spring from coalitions
of convenience. Economic libertarians and Christian evangelicals,
united by their common enemy, are strange bedfellows in today’s
Republican party, just as the two Georges — the archconservative Wallace
and the uberliberal McGovern — found themselves in the same Democratic
Party in 1972.
But there may also be coherent mindsets beneath the
diverse opinions that hang together in right-wing and left-wing belief
systems. Political philosophers have long known that the ideologies are
rooted in different conceptions of human nature — a conflict of visions
so fundamental as to align opinions on dozens of issues that would seem
to have nothing in common.
Conservative thinkers like the economist Thomas Sowell and the Times
columnist David Brooks have noted that the political right has a Tragic
Vision of human nature, in which people are permanently limited in
morality, knowledge and reason. Human beings are perennially tempted by
aggression, which can be prevented only by the deterrence of a strong
military, of citizens resolved to defend themselves and of the prospect
of harsh criminal punishment. No central planner is wise or
knowledgeable enough to manage an entire economy, which is better left
to the
invisible hand
of the market, in which intelligence is distributed across a network of
hundreds of millions of individuals implicitly transmitting information
about scarcity and abundance through the prices they negotiate.
Humanity is always in danger of backsliding into barbarism, so we should
respect customs in sexuality, religion and public propriety, even if no
one can articulate their rationale, because they are time-tested
workarounds for our innate shortcomings. The left, in contrast, has a
Utopian Vision, which emphasizes the malleability of human nature, puts
customs under the microscope, articulates rational plans for a better
society and seeks to implement them through public institutions.
Cognitive
scientists have recently enriched this theory with details of how the
right-left divide is implemented in people’s cognitive and moral
intuitions. The linguist George Lakoff suggests that the political right
conceives of society as a family ruled by a strict father, whereas the
left thinks of it as a family guided by a nurturant parent. The
metaphors may be corollaries of the tragic and utopian visions, since
different parenting practices are called for depending on whether you
think of children as noble savages or as nasty, brutish and short. The
psychologist Jonathan Haidt notes that rightists and leftists invest
their moral intuitions in different sets of concerns: conservatives
place a premium on deference to authority, conformity to norms and the
purity and sanctity of the body; liberals restrict theirs to fairness,
the provision of care and the avoidance of harm. Once again, the
difference may flow from the clashing conceptions of human nature. If
individuals are inherently flawed, their behavior must be restrained by
custom, authority and sacred values. If they are capable of wisdom and
reason, they can determine for themselves what is fair, harmful or
hurtful.
But while these theories help explain why the seemingly
diverse convictions within the right-wing and left-wing mind-sets hang
together, they don’t explain why they are tied to geography. The
historian David Hackett Fischer traces the divide back to the British
settlers of colonial America. The North was largely settled by English
farmers, the inland South by Scots-Irish herders. Anthropologists have
long noted that societies that herd livestock in rugged terrain tend to
develop a “culture of honor.” Since their wealth has feet and can be
stolen in an eye blink, they are forced to deter rustlers by cultivating
a hair-trigger for violent retaliation against any trespass or insult
that probes their resolve. Farmers can afford to be less belligerent
because it is harder to steal their land out from under them,
particularly in territories within the reach of law enforcement. As the
settlers moved westward, they took their respective cultures with them.
The psychologist Richard Nisbett has shown that Southerners today
continue to manifest a culture of honor which legitimizes violent
retaliation. It can be seen in their laws (like capital punishment and a
stand-your-ground right to self-defense), in their customs (like
paddling children in schools and volunteering for military service),
even in their physiological reactions to trivial insults.
Admittedly,
it’s hard to believe that today’s Southerners and Westerners carry a
cultural memory of sheepherding ancestors. But it may not be the
herding profession itself that nurtures a culture of honor so much as
living in anarchy. All societies must deal with the dilemma famously
pointed out by Hobbes: in the absence of government, people are tempted
to attack one another out of greed, fear and vengeance. European
societies, over the centuries, solved this problem as their kings
imposed law and order on a medieval patchwork of fiefs ravaged by
feuding knights. The happy result was a thirty-fivefold reduction in
their homicide rate from the Middle Ages to the present. Once the
monarchs pacified the people, the people then had to rein in the
monarchs, who had been keeping the peace with arbitrary edicts and
gruesome public torture-executions. Beginning in the Age of Reason and
the Enlightenment, governments were forced to implement democratic
procedures, humanitarian reforms and the protection of human rights.
When
the first American settlers fanned out from the coasts and other
settled areas, they found themselves in anarchy all over again. The
historian David Courtwright has shown that there is considerable truth
to the cinematic clichés of the Wild West and the mountainous South of
Davy Crocket, Daniel Boone and the Hatfields and McCoys. The nearest
sheriff might be 90 miles away, and a man had to defend himself with
firearms and a reputation for toughness. In the all-male enclaves of
cattle and mining towns, young men besotted with honor and alcohol
constantly challenged one another’s mettle and responded to these
challenges, pushing rates of violence through the roof.
Another
cliché of the cowboy movies also had an element of historical truth. As
more women moved west, they worked to end the lifestyle of brawling,
boozing and whoring they found there, joining forces with the officials
in charge of the rowdy settlements. They found a natural ally in the
church, with its co-ed membership, norms of temperance and Sunday
morning discipline. By the time the government consolidated its control
over the West (and recall that the “closing of the frontier,” marking
the end of American anarchy, took place just more than a century ago),
the norms of self-defense through masculine honor, and the restraint of
ruffianism by women and church, had taken root.
But then why, once
stable government did arrive, did it not lay claim to the monopoly on
violence that is the very definition of government? The historian Pieter
Spierenburg has suggested that “democracy came too soon to America,”
namely, before the government had disarmed its citizens. Since American
governance was more or less democratic from the start, the people could
choose not to cede to it the safeguarding of their personal safety but
to keep it as their prerogative. The unhappy result of this vigilante
justice is that American homicide rates are far higher than those of
Europe, and those of the South higher than those of the North.
If
this history is right, the American political divide may have arisen not
so much from different conceptions of human nature as from differences
in how best to tame it. The North and coasts are extensions of Europe
and continued the government-driven civilizing process that had been
gathering momentum since the Middle Ages. The South and West preserved
the culture of honor that emerged in the anarchic territories of the
growing country, tempered by their own civilizing forces of churches,
families and temperance.
Steven Pinker
is Harvard College Professor of Psychology at Harvard University and
the author, most recently, of “The Better Angels of Our Nature: Why
Violence Has Declined.”
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