MORTIMER J. ADLER ON THE NECESSITY OF GOVERNMENT II
THE
questions that I will attempt to answer in this chapter and the next are prior
to any question we can ask about the shape that our political, economic, and
social institutions should take in order to establish a just society. First are
questions about government itself —why it is necessary and whether it is
intrinsically good or a necessary evil. Then there are questions about the state—civil
society, the political community, or body politic. Again our concern is with whether
it is necessary and, if necessary, whether it is intrinsically good or a
necessary evil.
The order in which I
have placed these questions is based on the fact that the state or civil
society is not the only community or association of men in which the role of
government must be considered. As we shall see, the question about the
necessity of government applies to any association of men living and acting
together for a common purpose or a common good—a family, a village or tribe, or
a private corporation of any kind, as well as to a state.
Civil government is
only one of the many types of government, the type that is appropriate to a
civil society or state. The appropriateness of different types of government to different types
of communities is a consideration posterior to the problem of understanding why
government, of one type of another, is necessary for the existence of any community. We will subsequently see that the state—the political
community—comes into existence only with the institution of a certain type of
government, but we must first understand why the existence of any community
depends upon the institution of government.
I said earlier that
the propositions I was going to set forth comprised the controlling principles
of political philosophy conceived as a
purely normative discipline. That remark calls for a word of further comment before I proceed
with the exposition of the principles. Because of the dependence of political
thought upon political history, there is an inveterate tendency on the part of
political philosophers to intertwine descriptive or historical statements with
their normative judgments. They often pass insensibly from describing the way
things are or have been to judgments about how they ought or ought not to be
set up. In many cases, normative judgments or evaluations are implicit in
statements that, on the surface, have the character of statements of fact; and
they are left implicit, masked or concealed by appeals to historical evidence, rather
than expressed explicitly in normative terms and defended as such. I am going
to try, in what follows, to concentrate on propositions that are clearly and
plainly normative in their intent and that have the universality proper to
controlling principles. This does not mean that I will abstain from references
to historical fact or to current experience, but, where the discussion of such
matters is required or helpful, I will try to treat them in a manner that is
appropriate to questions of fact and not as if they were subjects about which a
political philosopher has or can have special wisdom. I will try to exercise
the same kind of restraint with regard to political problems that call for
normative judgments which fall below the level of universality appropriate to
principles. For purposes of illustration or amplifications I will from time to
time deal with such problems and comment on alternative solutions to them; but
I will reserve philosophical judgment about such alternatives at the level of
policy, except in those rare instances in which the controlling principles
require their endorsement or rejection.
Proceeding now to
the question about the necessity of government, we must begin by distinguishing two senses of the
term “necessity” —practical or pragmatic necessity, on the one hand, and
logical and natural necessity, on the other.
We say that
something happens necessarily in the very nature of the case when, given the
operation of a cause, its effect cannot not occur. The causal laws discovered and
formulated by natural sciences are, in this sense, statements of the necessary
connections between one event and another. In the sphere of logic, we say that
a valid inference is one in which the conclusion necessarily follows from the
premises. If the premises are affirmed, the conclusion cannot be denied without
contradicting one’s self. In contrast to these two related senses of necessity,
we speak of a thing’s being necessary in the order of human action when it is
indispensable to the end that we have in view. If it is impossible to achieve
the end we are aiming at without employing a certain means, then that means is
necessary in a practical sense.
Unlike natural
necessity, practical or pragmatic necessity is compatible with the voluntary.
We cannot violate or act contrary to natural necessities. If we lose our
footing or our balance, we do not have the option of obeying or disobeying the
law of gravitation. But in the sphere of practical necessities, it always
remains possible for us to defeat our own purposes by voluntarily refusing to
do what is required in order to achieve the end we have in view. The necessity
still obtains; for the end cannot be achieved without employing the
indispensable or necessary means. But nothing compels us to act in such a way
that we succeed: we are free to fail by not doing what is practically
necessary. If taking a plane is the only way to get to a certain place at a
certain time, we can defeat our own desire to attend a meeting at that time and
place by refusing to fly.
Government is a
human institution; it is not a natural phenomenon, but a product of human
action. Hence the question of its necessity is a question about its
indispensability as a means to a certain end. To answer the question we must, therefore, look
to the end that government is supposed to serve and attempt to define, as
precisely as possible, the way in which government functions as a means.
The definition of
government—not the government of a political community or civil society, but
government per se—involves a number of steps. First of all, let
us consider the difference between being governed and being exempt from
government. An individual who is subject to government in any respect
whatsoever is one who, in that respect, obeys a rule of action or carries out a
decision that is not entirely or wholly of his own making. Thus, for example,
when I and I alone decide the place where I shall live, the food I shall eat,
or the book I shall read, I am not subject to government in the actions that I
take to carry out these decisions. Or if I and I alone make the rule for my own
conduct that I will not smoke cigarettes, I am not subject to government when I
voluntarily obey this rule of abstinence. In matters of this kind, the young
child is usually subject to government. We say that the child is governed by
his parents when they decide for him the place where he shall live, the food he
shall eat, or the books he shall read. Or when they lay down rules of conduct
for him that he is expected to obey. It may be supposed that the distinction
between being governed and being exempt from government can also be expressed
as a difference between government by another and self-government. Accordingly,
it would be said that the child is governed by his parents, whereas the adult
in obeying a rule of his own making is subject to self-government. For reasons
that will presently become clear, I propose to reserve the term
“self-government” for a certain type of government in which the decision that I
act on or the rule that I obey is neither
entirely of my own making nor wholly made by others. Instead of using the
term “self-government” for the condition of being exempt from government by
others, I will use “autonomy” to refer to those cases in which the individual
acts on decisions or obeys rules entirely of his own making. Government never
completely replaces autonomy and never can. Even the young child exercises
autonomy in many respects, for the strictest and most supervisory parents do
not and cannot regulate every aspect of the child’s behavior, nor can they
issue edicts that decide everything that the child does from moment to moment.
What is true of the child is also true of the adult in almost every imaginable
set of circumstances. Even the slave or the prisoner of war retains a certain
degree of autonomy, for the simple reason that it is impossible to make the
government of anyone total—covering every action that the individual engages
in.
The distinction
between government and autonomy—that is, between being subject to government
and being autonomous—is related to, but is not identical with, the distinction
between the social and the solitary condition. If man were capable of leading a
solitary life, he could be autonomous in all respects. The solitary individual
would decide everything for himself and obey only such rules of conduct as he
laid down for himself. He could not help being autonomous in this case;
government would be inapplicable. In contrast to the solitary life, the social
life is one in which a number of individuals live together, each in some
dependence on the others and each being affected by the actions of others as
well as affecting others by his own actions. In is only in the case of social
life that the question of limitations upon the individual’s autonomy can arise.
In order to avoid begging the question, I will refrain from assuming, without
further analysis, that social life requires some limitation of the individual’s
autonomy, which is just another way of saying that social life requires some
degree or measure of government. I will, therefore, put the question in the
most open fashion, by asking whether it is possible for the individual who
lives socially —that is, in association with others—to retain the complete
autonomy he would have, in fact, could not help having, in the hypothetical
case of a purely
solitary mode of life.
For the purpose of
answering this question, I propose to consider an extremely simple model of
social life. Let me warn the reader at once that the model does not represent
every variety of human association and so will not provide us with all the
insights we need in order to understand all the functions of government.
Nevertheless, it will help us to take a first step in that direction.
Three scientists
voluntarily associate for the purpose of exploring the upper reaches of the
Amazon. Before they embark on this common enterprise, they realize that, at a
certain point in their exploration, they will be entirely on their own in the
jungle. Each of them recognizes that he could not do alone or by himself what it may be possible for the small organized
group to do, and each is willing to join the group for that reason. In other
words, they are associated for a common purpose and with the realization that
it is only the action of the group as a group that can achieve it. If they do
not stay together and act together for their common purpose, they cannot
succeed.
Before they leave
civilization behind and enter the jungle as an isolated group entirely on its
own, the three scientists face the question of how rules or decisions will be
made for the action of the group as a group, as well as for the conduct of its
individual members in so far as such conduct affects the
success of the enterprise. The qualification just stated leaves them autonomous in matters
that do not affect the concerted action of the group or the success of the
enterprise. But why can they not be completely autonomous, each
regulating his own conduct and deciding everything for himself? A
moment’s reflection will serve to discover that complete autonomy is
impractical and will not work. Understanding why this is so will throw light on
the function that government is needed to perform. Though the scientists
associate as equals, each needs the cooperation
of the other two in
order to succeed in their common enterprise. They must agree, therefore, upon
some method of regulating their own conduct and of reaching decisions in a
manner that will preserve their concerted efforts to achieve a common goal.
There are only three
alternative procedures available to them.
One is for the
scientists to require unanimity as the basis for any rule or decision that they
will acknowledge as having authority for them. One dissenting voice on their
part would then have the effect of a nullifying veto. And that, in turn, would
mean that each scientist is committed to obeying himself alone, since no rule
or decision to which he does not assent has authority for him. This would leave
each of the scientists completely autonomous.
A second procedure
would be for the three scientists to elect one of their number
the leader of the expedition and confer upon him the authority to regulate the
conduct of the party and decide all matters affecting the success of the
enterprise.
The third
alternative—and the only one that remains—consists in an agreement on the part
of the scientists to have all rules adopted and all decisions made by a
majority vote of two against one. Only the first alternative leaves the
scientists completely autonomous.
The second and third
institute a mode of government to which they themselves submit—two of them to
the personal authority of an elected leader in one case, and all three of them
to the impersonal or collective authority of a majority vote in the other case.
To show that
government is not merely preferable to complete autonomy on the part of the
scientists, but indispensable or necessary, we must have some reason for
thinking that the requirement of unanimity on the part of the scientists will not
work. Only if that is the case, must one or the other of the two remaining
procedures be resorted to for the sake of carrying the expedition out
successfully. In the strictest use of “impossible,” it cannot be said that
unanimity must be rejected as an absolutely impossible method of adopting rules
or making decisions. It is entirely conceivable that the three scientists might
concur in their solution of every practical problem that called for the making
of a rule or a decision. Reaching his decision independently, each might,
nevertheless, find himself in agreement with the other two; or even if the
matter were fully discussed, the discussion might eventuate in a unanimous
conclusion. Hence unanimity cannot be rejected in principle as impossible. But
that does not mean that it should not be rejected on the grounds of its
probable consequences in practice. The practical problems that must be solved
by our exploring scientists are not like mathematical problems or even
experimental ones—problems the solutions to which can be demonstrated or for
which decisive evidence can be offered. On the contrary, they are problems
about which reasonable men can disagree as to their solution. The likelihood of
such disagreement, even among three scientists engaged in a practical
enterprise, is sufficiently great to make the requirement of unanimity
impractical. In fact, it need only fail to be satisfied at one crucial turn of
affairs to prevent the expedition from succeeding. Since the probability of one
such failure is extremely high, that is sufficient reason to reject unanimity,
together with the complete autonomy it preserves, in favor of government.
We have now
discovered one reason for the necessity of government. It is necessary as an
indispensable means of getting rules adopted and decisions made about matters
concerning which equals engaged in a common enterprise can reasonably disagree.
Stated
in another way, the three scientists must set up the personal authority of a
leader or the collective authority of a majority vote in order to be sure that
at every crucial turn of
events their expedition will be directed by a rule or a decision
the authority of which each of them acknowledges even though he may disagree
with it, i.e., even though he would have adopted a different rule or made a
different decision if he were acting autonomously instead of submitting to
government.
While unanimity will
not work as a way of getting a number of equals engaged in a common enterprise
to work harmoniously together for a common goal, it is the only way in which
equals can institute an authority that they acknowledge or a government to
which they willingly submit. Once again we must realize that a unanimous
decision on the part of all, the decision of an elected leader, or the decision
reached by a majority vote exhaust the alternatives; for since we are
considering voluntary action on the part of the scientists who join hands as
equals, we must exclude the forceful imposition of a decision by someone
outside the group itself. That being the case, we can see at once that
government itself cannot be instituted by a majority vote or by the decision of
a leader, since the authority of a leader or of a
majority is the very thing being instituted. Hence the institution of
government itself, together with the delegation of authority to an elected
leader or to a majority, must be accomplished by the unanimous consent of the parties involved—in this case, the three scientists as
equals.
Since the government
whose authority they acknowledge is established by their unanimous consent, the
scientists form a self-governing community even though each has surrendered his
autonomy with regard to all matters affecting the
success of their common enterprise. Each
of the scientists is a constituent of the government that is established with
his consent. If the government established takes the form of a dictatorship
(i.e., decisions by a leader), self-government is minimal, being limited to the
selection of the leader, whether by lottery or by a majority vote. If, however,
the government established confers authority upon a majority vote, then
self-government is maximal, for each of the scientists exercises a voice in the
adoption of every rule and the making of every decision. In either the minimal
or the maximal case, the individual remains self-governing when the rule
adopted or the decision made is contrary to one that he himself would have
chosen were he autonomous. The fact that he is obliged to obey a rule or to act
on a decision that is not of his own choosing must be combined with the
fact that his
consent was involved in setting up the authority to which he owes obedience
and, in the case of maximal self-government, with the additional fact that he
participated in the voting that eventuated in a decision other than his own. For him to refuse obedience in those cases in which he disagrees
with an authorized rule or decision is tantamount to his insisting upon his
autonomy instead of acknowledging the authority of government.
We have learned
three things from our limited model.
(1) Acknowledging and
submitting to an authority for making rules and decisions concerning the actions to be taken by a group
of men associated for a common purpose is the only alternative to retaining and
exercising complete autonomy.
(2) Since the
retention of complete autonomy is tantamount to making unanimity the condition
for adopting any rule or decision, its retention will probably frustrate
concerted action for a common purpose, because the matters about which rules or
decisions must be made are matters about which reasonable men can disagree.
Their disagreement about such matters being highly probable, individuals
associated for a common purpose must surrender their complete autonomy and
substitute for it an authority that they themselves set up and acknowledge.
They must do this if they wish to succeed in acting together harmoniously and
effectively for whatever is their common purpose.
(3) Government is
necessary only as a means—a means of achieving concerted action for the good
commonly aimed at by a group of associated men. The necessity of government
answers to the need for a commonly acknowledged authority to make rules or
decisions concerning actions that affect the achievement of a common purpose.
The points just made
all relate to one function of government—one reason why it is necessary as a
means. But that is not the only function of government, or the only reason for
its necessity. Another is the indispensability of government for the
maintenance of peace. To understand this, we must go beyond the simple model we
have been considering, consisting of three men alike in character and purpose.
Let us now contemplate a much larger community of equals, involving individuals
differing in a multitude of respects. This type of
community, much larger than a single family, we usually call a civil society—a
community of men living together under civil government.
The reason why our
three scientists found it necessary to institute government, the authority of
which they freely acknowledged by their unanimous consent, will apply without
qualification and, perhaps, with even greater force in the case of civil
society: the common good for which men associate in the larger community cannot
be achieved if each of them insists upon retaining his complete autonomy. Some
portion of it must be surrendered to establish an authority for making rules
and reaching decisions binding on all by their free consent. But in the case of
the more populous and humanly heterogeneous community of a civil society, there
is an additional reason for government, namely, its indispensability as a means
to civil peace.
In any populous
community comprising men of divergent interests, conflicts or disagreements
will probably arise about matters of either private or public concern. The
parties to such conflicts may either be private individuals or they may be
private individuals arraigned against public officials. Confronted with the
probability of such conflicts or disputes, what alternatives are available for
settling them? Only two: one is whatever power is at the disposal of the
parties in conflict; the other is the authority of government to adjudicate
disputes and to enforce its judgments. Let us consider each in turn.
In the absence of
government, each of the parties to a dispute, being autonomous, must operate as
judge in his own case and, in defense of his ex parte judgment, must try to persuade his opponent or, failing in that,
exercise such de facto force as he can bring to bear. Disputes can, of
course, be settled in this way, but not peacefully, since persuasion is likely
to fail and recourse to violence will be necessitated. Hence if men who live
together and interact in all the affairs of their daily lives retain their
complete autonomy, there is no way of excluding recourse to violence as a way
of settling the disputes that are likely to arise. It follows, therefore, that
government with the authority to adjudicate disputes and with authorized force
to implement the judgment of its tribunals is indispensable to the peace of a
civil society, in which men are associated for their
common good.
Peace is essential to
the very existence of a community as a community; and so, if communal life is a
means to the common good of those who are associated in order to live well as
human beings, then the maintenance of peace among men living together is
indispensable to their achieving good lives for themselves. The peace of a
community may also be breached or marred by acts of criminal violence, as well
as by the violence that would arise if the parties to a dispute could not
submit their differences to an authorized tribunal for adjudication or
arbitration. In the absence of government, each individual would have to defend
himself against aggression by others with whatever power is at his disposal.
The probability is high that wholesale violence would ensue. For this reason,
as well as for the reason that, without authorized tribunals to settle
disputes, the settlement of them would probably involve recourse to violence,
the absence of government is a state of war rather than one of peace.
The preceding
discussion of government as necessary for the maintenance of civil peace has
introduced the notion of authorized force and the distinction between such
force and violence. In our simple model of the three scientists in the jungle,
the institution of an acknowledged authority sufficed for the operation of
government; but in the more complicated case of civil society, naked authority
is not enough. It must be clothed with and implemented by authorized force. The
reason for this rests on the probability of disobedience together with the
probability that persuasion will not always succeed in winning compliance from
those who tend to be recalcitrant. The probability of disobedience is generated
by the fact of human freedom. Even those who freely acknowledge the authority
of government always remain free to obey or disobey its rules of law, its
administrative edicts, and its judicial decisions. In a populous community,
comprising men of every stripe, good and bad, the probability of disobedience
is not negligible. The disobedience may or may not be justified in the
particular case. Let us for the moment table the problem of justified
disobedience; I will return later to the conditions under
which there is a right to disobey. For the present let us consider only
the likelihood of disobedience that is not justified. One way
in which the constituted authority of civil government can deal with such
disobedience is to attempt to persuade the recalcitrants.
Since persuasion can fail and since, furthermore, it is likely to fail in a
certain number of cases, some other device must be available if the authority
of government is not to be rendered ineffective for the purpose for which it is
instituted.
The only other
device is the employment of coercive force. It is strictly an emergency measure
in the sense that its use is justified only by the failure of
efforts at persuasion. Nevertheless, the high probability that persuasion will
not be effective to overcome unjustified disobedience in every case makes it necessary to implement the authority of government
with the right to employ coercive force.
The force that is
used to compel obedience or compliance may either be authorized or
unauthorized. It is authorized only if it is instituted to implement the
authority of civil government. Only such force as is thus instituted and
employed to implement the regulations and decisions that government itself has
the authority to make is, strictly speaking, authorized force or force
exercised de lure—rightfully or by right. All other force is
purely de facto or without right, and all such unauthorized force
is violence. Violence may be committed by a government as well as by the
members of a society. A government commits violence when it exceeds its
authorization to use force—when it uses force that it is not authorized to use, or uses it to enforce compliance with rules or
decisions that it is not authorized to make. Since authorized force belongs by
right to civil government and to civil government alone, government should have
a monopoly of authorized force. This does not mean
that it necessarily does have a preponderance of the force available in the
community. The de facto force that can be marshaled by a revolutionary
party or movement may surpass and overpower the authorized force of
government. Again I am
postponing for the time being the question of the right of revolution, which is
related to the question about the conditions under which revolutionary violence
is justified.
The only point that
I wish to stress here is that authorized force—force used to implement
authority—is, by its very nature, the exclusive property of a civil government
that is duly constituted; in other words, a government that is itself de jure and not de facto. The force exercised
by a de facto government is as unauthorized as that government
itself is, and so, being de facto force, is a manifestation of violence.
I can sum up what we
have learned so far in a single, though somewhat complex proposition: government, with the
authority to make laws, to adjudicate disputes, and to issue administrative
decisions, and with a monopoly of authorized force to coerce where it fails to
persuade, is an indispensable means, proximately, to the peace of
communal life; and, ultimately, to the happiness of
its individual members, to whatever extent a good human life for each of them
depends on their being able to live together, work cooperatively for their
common good, and interact peacefully with one another. Those who concede that
government is necessary for the reasons just indicated may still wish to ask
whether, being necessary, it is also a necessary evil. Or, in addition to being
necessary, is it intrinsically good?
What is being asked
is not whether there can be bad government. Government can obviously be bad in
a variety of ways: through exceeding its authority or its right to use coercive
force, through the imperfection of its institutions, through the injustice of
its acts, and so on. Since no one can deny the abuses, imperfections, or
injustices that everyone knows can afflict government, the question should be
not whether government can be bad, but whether it must be. For if it must be bad and, in spite of that, is necessary,
then and only then would it be correct to regard it as a necessary evil. I submit that there
is nothing about the nature of government that makes it impossible for it to be
free from abuses, imperfections, or injustices. This remains true even if one were to add that,
government being what it is and men being what they are, any government
instituted and carried on by men will always reflect to a certain extent the
weaknesses and imperfections of its human constituents and agents.
Nevertheless, the institutions of government can be so perfected and its
operations so safeguarded that they can be rendered innocuous, in spite of the
ever present human proclivities to the contrary. Government is, therefore, not
necessarily or intrinsically evil.
The only reason that
might be given for thinking the contrary would be the view that complete
autonomy on the part of every individual is an absolute good; for if this were
the case, then government, by taking autonomy away from the individual in
certain matters, while leaving it intact in others, would necessarily be evil.
This line of argument can readily be shown to be self-defeating. To be a
necessary evil, government has to be necessary, in the first place. But why is
government necessary? Because, as we have seen, complete
autonomy on the part of individuals is incompatible with their effective
cooperation for a common purpose and with their peaceful interaction in
communal life. Hence if the effectiveness and peace of communal life is
itself something good—good as a means to the good life of human beings—then
complete autonomy, not government, is to be judged intrinsically evil.
In short, the
goodness of government as well as its necessity rests on the fact that human
beings, in order to engage effectively in the pursuit of happiness, must
associate and cooperate with their fellowmen to obtain the goods of communal
life, among which peace is a principal component, and they cannot do so unless
the authority and authorized force of government replace autonomy with regard
to all matters affecting communal and common goods. Before I turn to
the question about the nature and origin of the state, I would like to remind
the reader of matters that have been postponed for later consideration or
questions that have been raised but not answered. They include such
considerations of critical importance as the conditions under which resistance
to government is justified and the conditions that justify recourse to revolutionary
violence. They also include basic questions about the limits of a government’s
authority and coercive force, questions about the perfection of its
institutions, and questions about the justice of its acts.
My reason for
postponing the consideration of these matters is twofold. First, our concern
with them is mainly in the sphere of civil society and, therefore, in the
sphere of civil governments. Hence we will be in a better position to deal with
these matters after we understand the state or civil society as distinct from
all other communities or forms of association, and understand it as having only
one mode of government that is distinctively appropriate to itself. Second
these considerations are consequent upon, not antecedent to, the question about
the necessity of government and its goodness. Hence no matter what resolution
we are subsequently able to achieve of the difficult problems concerning
dissent and revolutionary violence or concerning the abuses or injustices of
government, it should in no way detract from the soundness of the conclusion
that we have so far reached concerning the necessity and intrinsic goodness
Excerpted
from his book The Common Sense of Politics.