Friday, February 28, 2020

“Isonomia and the Origins of Philosophy” by Kojin Karatani (translated by Joseph A. Murphy)

Karatani is a Japanese Marxist philosopher. This book, however, deals entirely with classical Greek philosophy and the political arrangements of Greek city-states. Karatani seeks to compare early Ionian philosophy with Pythagoras, Plato, and Aristotle, to show what was truly groundbreaking about Ionian natural philosophy and political science. He contends, “nearly all of what is believed to be distinctive about Greece began in Ionia.” On the political unit of the polis, he asserts, “the principle first appeared in the early colonial cities in Ionia, and expanded from there through further colonization from those cities. It was only later that the principle spread to the Greek mainland.”

What interests Karatani most is the type of political institutions that flourished in Ionia. “What existed in Ionia was not democracy but isonomia.” Hannah Arendt expands, “Freedom as a political phenomenon was coeval with the rise of the Greek city-states. Since Herodotus, it was understood as a form of political organization in which the citizens lived together under conditions of no-rule, without a division between rulers and ruled. This notion of no-rule was expressed by the word isonomy…. The polis was supposed to be an isonomy, not a democracy. The word democracy, expressing even then majority rule, the rule of the many, was originally coined by those who were opposed to isonomy and who meant to say: What you say is “no-rule” is in fact only another kind of rulership; it is the worst form of government, rule by the demos.” Aristotle adds, “In a democracy the poor have more power than the rich, because there are more of them, and [the majority] is supreme.” Karatani continues, “Modern democracy is a composite of liberalism plus democracy, that is to say liberal democracy. It attempts to combine, therefore, two conflicting things, freedom and equality.” He goes on, “The fact that realization of democracy requires a concentration of power as its prerequisite reveals that democracy essentially takes the form of a -cracy or rule…. In fact, in this people-as-sovereign, absolute monarchy is concealed. In other words, democracy is a form of rule realized by passing through the concentration of power.”

Karatani contrasts democracy with Ionian governance. “The Ionian polis came into being with a covenant (social contract) among these people. Their fidelity was directed not to kinship but to the covenant…. The new communities formed by the settlers in Ionia were independent from the city-states or tribal groups of their origin.” Ionian colonies had enough frontier land to enable free migration and, for a time, had no threat of external aggression from neighboring nations. This allowed a radical egalitarianism to spread. They brought no baggage from the clan-based loyalties of the mainland. Ionian “natural philosophy, with its rejection of the gods of the polis, was viewed as a denial of the polis (community) itself…. In Athens, people are subordinate to the polis, and all ethics flows from that point. However, for Democritus, a human being is in essence independent of the polis, and each person is “a world unto themselves” (microcosmos)…. In [Ionian] eyes, the world and human beings were themselves equally physis or nature. They were among the first to propose this universal perspective.” This perspective flowed from their general natural philosophy. “The love of humanity in Ionia is inseparable from the attitude of approaching humans, not through nomos, but through physis…. Isonomia, or no-rule, does not simply place people on an equal footing in terms of political participation. It means more fundamentally the absence of the ruler and ruled hierarchy in the relations of production.” It resulted in the absence of the Asian despotic division of labor. “In the civilizations of Asia, the “first form of ideologists, priests,” held a monopoly on technical and scientific matters…. In a sense, the power of the priests and bureaucrats was rooted in a monopoly over writing systems that were difficult to acquire, or a monopoly of the knowledge that could be obtained through reading. By contrast, the Ionians adapted the Phoenician script into a phonetic alphabet that anyone could easily master. Further, they minted coinage and left trade, pricing, and other matters of economic policy handled by the bureaucracy in the states of Asia to the market…. When the Ionian natural philosophers eliminated the personified gods of Olympus, they also rejected professional priests and ritualists, which is to say they rejected the implicit division of material and mental labor.” The Ionian philosophers were both anti-dualist and anti-idealist in their worldly outlook. Although they differed on what the primal element was, from Thales, Anaximenes, Heraclitus, to Parmenides, they were all strictly materialists.

Karatani suggests that the democracy of Athens was diametrically opposed to the isonomia of Ionia. “Athenian direct democracy was dependent upon the ruling and plundering of the other poleis. It is precisely this imperialistic expansion that was the condition of Athenian democracy…. The Athenian army was based on the mass tactics of the phalanx using a heavily armed citizen militia called hoplites. The success of these tactics provided the basis of the ascent of the democratic faction versus the aristocracy. During the Persian War in particular, the contribution of the lower class of citizens, who volunteered to row in the galleys of the warships, gained them a political position…. The motive for the promotion of democracy in Athens lay in this military exigency…. Athenian democracy is inseparable from this kind of nationalism…. In order to prosecute wars, and participate in political affairs, they had to rely on slaves for labor. A landowner with no slaves would be unable to carry out the obligations of a citizen. Slaves were, in this sense, a condition for citizenship…. Athenian democracy was a system that sought to equalize the people by redistribution of wealth. On the other hand, this democracy was rooted in the homogeneity of its members…. Whatever economic contribution a foreigner might make to the polis, there was no path to citizenship, nor legal protection under the law…. Direct democracy gave rise to demagogues, who inflamed the people.”

While Athens was rich in wealth and militarily dominant by the fifth century BC, it imported teachers of rhetoric and philosophers from the Ionian colonies. These were the so-called Sophists. “In the Platonic dialogue Gorgias, rhetoric is portrayed as the art of persuading other people, and thereby ruling them, and the teachers of this art were the Sophists. However, the reduction of rhetoric to a set of techniques for domination was the view, not of the Sophists, but of the Athenians…. It is under democracy (majority rule) that rhetoric becomes a means of ruling over other people…. In Ionia [rhetoric] took the form of a means of collective inquiry (elenchos)…. Rhetoric was not a set of techniques for ruling over other people, but a method for understanding a nature that included humans.”

Karatani makes that case that Socrates, despite Plato’s portrayal, was, in fact, a direct descendant of the Ionian philosophers. “Socrates was the first person in Athens to attempt to lead his life as an individual. In that sense he was cosmopolitan, independent from the polis and the community of Athens…. Socrates rejected the generally recognized values of the Athenians, which held one’s deeds in public office and one’s political actions to be the foundation of virtue…. Socrates recognized no value in participation in the assembly and courts and the attainment of power. The art he taught was not for the purpose of action in the public sphere; rather, it was a means of severing one’s ties to it…. This further hints at a civil society where there is no split between one’s public and private lives…. Plato aimed at a condition where the soul ruled over the body. What Socrates aimed at, though, was the abolition of rule itself, that is to say, isonomia.”

Friday, February 21, 2020

“Sentimental Education” by Gustave Flaubert (translated by Robert Baldick)

This novel is, at heart, a story of desire and obsession. A young student, Frederic Moreau, catches a moment with the older Madame Arnoux, while traveling home to Nogent-sur-Seine on a steamship. It would begin a lifelong infatuation with the married lady. The novel’s plot, set by Flaubert in early nineteenth century Paris, intertwines the politics and intrigues of the post-Bourbon Restoration through the Revolution of 1848 and its aftermath.

Frederic lets his life be steered by fate and a certain capricious flippancy. “He asked himself in all seriousness whether he was to be a great painter or a great poet; and he decided in favour of painting, for the demands of the profession would bring him closer to Madame Arnoux. So he had found his vocation!” Living in Paris, ostensibly to study law, Frederic gradually ingratiates his way into Monsieur Arnoux’s circle of artists and republican radicals. But all the while he dreams of Madame. He lives for their brief, often silent, interactions. “He loved her without reservation, without hope, unconditionally; and in those mute transports, which were like bursts of gratitude, he would have liked to cover her forehead with a shower of kisses.” Even as Frederic gains an inheritance, which sets him up comfortably, if modestly, for life, he seems to float about with no set course, save for his fixation on Madame Arnoux. Speaking to her husband, Frederic can’t help exclaim, “What can a fellow do in an age of decadence like ours? Great painting has gone out of fashion. Besides, you can put a bit of art into every sphere of life. You know how devoted I am to the cause of beauty!” Frederic also becomes involved in all of the political intrigues floating around Parisian circles. Having no firm opinions of his own, he mixes easily with the old aristocracy, the capitalists, the republican reformers, and the socialist radicals alike. “Some people have got logs in their fireplace, truffles on their table, a comfortable bed, a library, a carriage, every luxury. If somebody else has to shiver in a garret, dine for a franc, work like a black, and flounder in poverty—is that their fault?” Stymied in his true love, Frederic distracts himself with minor flings. “He felt that something irreparable had just happened, and that he had lost his great love. And the other woman was there beside him, the happy, easy love! Tired out, full of contradictory desires, and no longer even knowing what he wanted, he felt an infinite melancholy, a longing to die.” Of course, Frederic could never get Madame Arnoux out of his mind. Every chance encounter with her stirred up his dormant passions in a way nothing else could. “She had not held out her hand to him, had not said a single affectionate word, had not even invited him to come and see her; but in spite of all that, he would not have exchanged this meeting for the most wonderful adventures, and he savoured its sweetness as he continued on his way.”

In February 1848, Paris burns, the National Guard sides with the people, and the monarchy is sent fleeing. “The people, less out of vengeance than from a desire to assert its supremacy, tore up curtains, smashed mirrors, chandeliers, sconces, tables, chairs, stools—everything that was moveable, right down to albums of drawings and needlework baskets. They were the victors, so surely they were entitled to enjoy themselves. The rabble draped themselves mockingly in lace and cashmere.” As early as June, the tables turn—the National Guard brutally suppresses the radical workers’ rebellion and conservative elements reestablish control of Paris and the country. “Despite their victory, equality—as if to punish its defenders and ridicule its enemies—asserted itself triumphantly: an equality of brute beasts, a common level of bloody atrocities; for the fanaticism of the rich counterbalanced the frenzy of the poor, the aristocracy shared the fury of the rabble, and the cotton nightcap was just as savage as the red bonnet. The public’s reason was deranged as if by some great natural upheaval. Intelligent men lost their sanity for the rest of their lives.” Frederic navigates these political storms distractedly, as he broodingly tries to steer his own affairs of love. He embarks on a handful of serious affairs. He honestly attempts to replace the place in his heart held by Madame Arnoux. To no avail. “Women’s hearts were like those desks full of secret drawers that fit one inside another; you struggle with them, you break your fingernails, and at the bottom you find a withered flower, a little dust, or nothing at all! Perhaps he was afraid too of finding out too much.”


Friday, February 14, 2020

“The Pine Islands” by Marion Poschmann (translated by Jen Calleja)

This a strange, short novel. It begins, “He’d dreamt that his wife had been cheating on him…. He couldn’t recall later on whether he had been shouting at her (probably), struck her (surely not) or spat at her (well, really, a little spittle may very well have sprayed from his mouth while he was talking animatedly at her), he had at any rate gathered a few things together, taken his credit cards and his passport and left…. In the plane en route to Tokyo he drank green tea, watched two samurai films and repeatedly reassured himself that he had not only done everything right, but that his actions had indeed been inevitable.” Thus begins Gilbert Silvester’s sojourn in Japan. He is a pretentious associate lecturer, severely disappointed he has yet to attain professorship. Gilbert researches the depiction of male beards in art. “He clung on to words that had long fallen out of usage and on to implements of a past age, there was something antiquated about him. Indeed, he had tried to offset it with postmodern ties and neon-coloured pocket squares. To no avail. He was regarded at the university as a reactionary aesthete.” Purchasing the works of Basho upon landing, Gilbert sets out to retrace the poet’s pilgrimage to Matsushima, the bay of pine islands. “The travelers to Matsushima were lunatics, moonstruck, eccentric. They composed their own sacred legends, everything was worthless to them apart from poetry, and for them poetry stood for the spirit’s path to nothingness.” Gilbert befriends a young man, Yosa, about to commit suicide on the subway tracks and ropes him into becoming his traveling companion. “The outer suicide and the inner suicide, he said to Yosa, are completely different things. Basho strove for the inner suicide, he wanted to be free of his ego in order to be freed up for his poetry.” Instead of tourist sites, Yosa takes Gilbert to the most famous suicide spots in Japan, while Gilbert tries to nudge Yosa to visit Matsushima with him. “He thought almost exclusively about pines. The Japanese pines on their scenic island—were they truly capable of teaching him to see something? And if they were, why couldn’t a completely normal pine, like one in the Brandenburg Forest, for instance, not be just as qualified to do so?”

Friday, February 7, 2020

“10% Less Democracy” by Garett Jones

In a way, Jones has written a timid book. Most of his proposed reforms are marginal. And yet, to many people, advocating ten percent less democracy will seem highly controversial. “Most prominent political thinkers… take the unalloyed merits of democracy for granted.” In his book, Jones suggests some “democracy-reducing reforms that take control of the state a little further away from the average citizen.” He suggests there might be a Laffer curve for democracy and that many rich countries in the modern world, particularly America, might be on the right side, sloping downward.

The book uses anecdotes to make some points, but Jones primarily relies on time-series or cross-country data. He claims, “there is no professional consensus at all on whether higher levels of democracy cause higher growth, cause slower growth, or cause nothing much at all.” First, he suggests longer terms for politicians. “We have three major areas where governments facing a looming election are reluctant to take the tough but probably effective medicine: trade policy, labor regulation, and exchange rate policy.” Politicians know when the voters are watching. “Senators… tend to backload the pork, delivering 15% more projects and 15% more dollars in home-state spending in the last two years of their cycle…. When a senator is in cycle, she’s 10 percentage points less likely to vote for a trade deal.”

Jones recommends those parts of the United States system that are more-shielded from politics and the voters. He praises the independence of the Federal Reserve. “Independent, generally less democratic central banks… averaged 4% lower long-run rates of annual inflation compared to countries with the most politician-dependent…. Countries with more independent central banks appear to have fewer financial crises.” The judicial branch and regulatory agencies are two other areas where Jones has found better outcomes from appointing, rather than electing, officials. “Appointed treasurers are able to get lower interest rates on the city debt—about half a percentage point lower on average—than elected officials.” Jones finds, “States with elected regulators are less likely to pass through cost changes into prices [and] utilities invest less in places with elected regulators.” One important measure of independence is funding. “Having to ask the government for annual appropriations… obviously weakens the political independence of the regulator.” Jones also suggests using executive headhunting-style firms to identify talent, especially those who might not be citizens, and filling local, state, and federal posts with them. Finally, Jones suggests expanding political independence into areas like an independent tax commission. “Let Congress decide on the values, let the Federal Tax Board iron out the details.”

Jones now gets into more controversial ground. He suggests tilting the scales of voting to give more weight to those who are smarter. “The more educated tend to know more about how government works and about how different policy proposals—even well-intentioned ones—may or may not work as planned…. Since politicians pander to voters, not to nonvoters, then any improvement in the skill level, the information level, or the human capital of voters will mean that politicians will be pandering to customers who know more about the product.” He suggests a practical idea, “Everyone with a current right to vote gets to vote in elections for the lower house and for the head of state, but only those with a college degree or equivalent can vote in elections to the upper house.”

Another controversial idea is to give voting rights to a country’s bondholders. “Bondholders are an important and useful check on the potentially reckless behavior of governments…. Long-term government bondholders—investors holding maturities of, say, ten years or longer—should be given an explicit advisory role in modern democracies as a check on the shortsighted, impulsive, frequently ignorant electorate…. perhaps through nonbinding public resolutions where one dollar of bonds means one vote.” Jones goes further, advocating for “formal annual shareholder-style meetings between elected bondholder representatives and elected government officials, formal appointments of bondholder representatives to high-level finance ministry positions, or even handing bondholder representatives limited forms of veto power over economic policy actions.” He even suggests to “grant the bondholder council a small number of seats in the upper house of the national legislature…. The number of seats that belonged to these bondholders would rise as the nation’s ratio of government debt to national income rose. One more seat in the upper house for every 10% increase in the debt-to-income ratio.”

Jones also suggests that political party machines have come to influence too little of policy in America today. “The machine has a longer political life than most politicians, so it cares whether the country will be rich enough, stable enough, safe enough, for it to remain strong for decades to come. The machine has patience…. Machines are to politics as banking is to the economy: being long-term, repeat players, they can extend something like political credit.” He also suggests staggering election cycles. “If there’s more noise in the public sphere, then any one election tells us less about what the public is really saying…. The bigger the random swings, the stronger the argument is for not listening too closely to any one election…. Any country with four, six, or… eight-year terms could easily stagger out the terms to create what the Senate calls “a continuing body.” And one benefit of a continuing body is that it will have a more stable, more coherent mind.” Jones concludes, “if a modern, relatively prosperous nation wants a greater degree of liberalism, it probably wants a little less democracy.”