The Structure of Self-Government: Round 2

In my last post, I argued that our governing institutions are designed to express and pursue particular political values, namely the foundational values of liberal constitutionalism. Thus, we see consensual governance, national security, the rule of law, the protection of inalienable rights, and the general welfare advanced in different ways by the three branches of government and across the levels of our federal system. Drawing on Dan’s insightful characterization of our government as temporally structured—with past-, present-, and future-regarding values—my basic point was that our political institutions are designed to promote certain political goods. (Incidentally, a different Dan recently explored this point on the New York Times Campaign Stops blog.)

So that’s where this post picks up. And it’s especially important to continue following this line of reasoning because the institutional expression of political values has profound implications. The first, and most apparent, is that we should expect our institutions to clash with each other quite regularly. The goods expressed by legislatures, courts, and executives at all levels of government, while equally central to the constitutional enterprise, are in tension with one another. Brief reflection reveals that national security and civil liberties often conflict and that consensual governance and minority rights at times present competing claims. In short, the things we want government to do—the very reasons we have the government we have—are incommensurable. And that is exactly why our institutions are structured as they are.

By institutionalizing the desiderata of self-government, we ensure that what we care about in the political realm will not fade away with passing political coalitions or be swept aside at the whim of individual leaders. This was James Madison’s point in Federalist 51, where he warned that because men are not angels we mustn’t put all of our trust in their rectitude or virtue: “A dependence on the people is, no doubt, the primary control on the government; but experience has taught mankind the necessity of auxiliary precautions.” Our political institutions are those auxiliary precautions.

But in order to function as auxiliary precautions, We the People living under the Constitution must not only countenance the conflict and disagreement that necessarily follows from the proper functioning of our political institutions. We must also expect it. Indeed, we must demand it. Precisely because the values at the heart of constitutional self-governance are in tension with one another we must demand that they confront one another in the context of inter-institutional interaction. For only when an argument can overcome opposition rooted in core constitutional values will the decisions we make as a polity benefit from the full measure of deliberation and legitimacy.

And that leads to the second implication: we must have a political culture, supported by a social order, that can produce and withstand this kind of disagreement and debate. This is a multifaceted and complex requirement, to be sure, but I’ll suggest just a few aspects I think are particularly important. First, there must be non-political institutions that can diffuse some amount of the disagreement that is naturally occurring in any polity. Put differently, while politics can channel and resolve some conflicts, we must have a robust civil society that can handle the rest.

Second, and related to civil society, we must have institutions, opportunities, and relationships that habituate us in the norms of civility. For all that politics is, it is rarely characterized as civil. Much of the incivility of modern politics, I believe, is rooted in a lack of experience handling contentious issues. Religious organizations, social groups, and networks of friends can all prepare us for the political conversations—and yes, disagreements—that a healthy polity must address.

And finally, we must have some common core of beliefs or commitments (a moral consensus, perhaps?) that will render politics productive. Beyond a certain degree of disagreement, politics becomes merely a contest for the power necessary to suppress the opposition, rather than a means of strengthening bonds of agreement and aspiration.

The inevitability of political conflict and the political culture it requires emphasize the importance of the pre-political, everything on which a healthy politics depends. A few weeks ago I questioned how much collaboration is possible with those who see government as the principal institution in communal life. What I’ve sketched out above intensifies that concern. When our political institutions presuppose a certain kind of individual and communal character—a respect, civility, maturity, and unity—any hope for a better life together starts with realizing where we must focus our attention.

Ockham Ruined Everything!

Just look at him. Would you trust this man with a razor?

While I compose my response to Dan’s provocative post, the more cerebral will enjoy reading this reflection from Michael Brendan Dougherty on some dangerous tendencies in certain quarters to romanticize the High Middle Ages and blame all our problems on Ockham and Luther. For those who are interested in such historical/philosophical questions, it’s worth the read just for the part about “medieval hipster ironies.” More broadly, the warning against “reverse Whiggism” is much needed. My long-term interest in drawing on John Locke as a moral and cultural resource (while being mindful of his theological and metaphysical limitations) is all of a piece with this. And so, in a broader sense, is the moral consensus idea.

Moral consensus stands against both optimistic and pessimistic Whiggisms. The thing they have in common is elevating some past historical moment (the Glorious Revolution and the American founding on one side, the High Middle Ages on the other side) as a great historical culmination, the ultimate manifestation of the moral law (and even the gospel) in the social order. A central insight of the moral conensus view, which traces its roots through Augustine, is that human civilization is always a realm of compromise – is always a place of moral/spiritual edification and failure simultaneously – such that no particular social order or cultural situation is ever a final destination or moral entelechy. There is no end zone for the moral/spiritual development of human civilization; there is only the best compromise available in each situation.

Hmm. Maybe I’ve already composed my response to Dan after all!

Legislating Morality

Dan Kelly’s fantastic post raises an important issue about the role of government in legislating morality. There is a marked difference between government passing moral laws and government passing laws to create a moral swing in a particular direction. It is ironic that conservatives decry ‘activist’ judges when they are liberal, but then expect judges to legislate morality even when it goes against public opinion. While in some cases this can be applauded, such as prohibiting murder even if public opinion is in favor of it, conservatives often place too much faith in their government to enforce certain morals. Dan’s post on gay marriage is an excellent example. The issue is not government’s decision about gay marriage but the moral climate of this country that has neglected the institution of marriage. A government prohibition of gay marriage is not going to suddenly cause people to respect marriage. However, a culture that does respect marriage would be expected to prohibit gay marriage. Christians and conservatives (not necessarily the same thing) should realize that political activism is insufficient to bring about cultural change. In most cases, cultural change leads to political change, not vice versa. The work of upholding marriage takes place over the backyard fence, not Washington. Greg, I think someone should write a book on how we really change culture.