But such a system would have to take for granted Hobbes’ values and rationality—it would not work ‘right out of the box’ as deontology or utilitarianism does; more on this later. For now, let’s assume that our purpose will require an appeal to a Pareto Superior alternative to Hobbes. Theories abound of how to do this, but we need one that can do this without permitting state coercion, while also accounting for morality. Unfortunately, it is difficult, though not impossible, to find compelling examples of such theories in practice in the world right now.
Fortunately, it has similarly been difficult to find archetypes of Hobbes’ Leviathan in the world as well (many states might appreciate Hobbes, but few model themselves in a way that is wholly consistent with his theory). In this case, it will be most appropriate to ‘fight fire with fire,’ and seek alternative accounts of the State of Nature and the ‘social contract. ’ Towards a Better Social Contract Daoism is a Chinese school of philosophy that traces its history back to the 6th century BC.
Ironically, from a time which nearly may have itself been considered as part of the state of nature, Daoist thought advocated values and a world view that is distinctly anarchist. Though there is much to be said about the relationship between Daoism and anarchism, suffice it to say that the two share many values and ideas. Daoism posits an attitude of respectful trust in human nature, directly opposed to Hobbes’ free-for-all. Additionally, Daoism believes that human beings have “an innate predisposition to goodness which is revealed in the instinctive reaction of anyone who sees a child falling into a well.
To best illustrate the contrast to Hobbes’ theories, examine two of the most relevant teachings found in the greatest Daoist classic De Dao Jing: “The world is ruled by letting things take their course. It cannot be ruled by interfering… I have no desires and people return to the good and simple life. ” n The top line, when taken together with more fundamental Daoist teachings, is an explicit rejection of imposed authority. The bottom line, one among many philosophies that have advocated moderation of desire, shows that the values and appeals that Hobbes makes are far from universal.
In fact, such accounts of state of nature theory and the social contract are known to be merely ‘useful fictions. ’ Is it not merely a fiction, then—the state of nature Hobbes describes—with which he leads us to believe the authoritarian state is in our best interests? Hobbes accounts for the worst in us: the ‘worst case scenario. ’ But, in so doing, we fail to give due credit to humanity’s progress and ingenuity: we fail to give due credit to normativity: the way things should be. Why cannot we, and why should not we, imagine a better fiction?
A fiction in which people strive for what should be, rather than what already is; a fiction in which mankind has an adequate dose of humility, and in which the baseline is a benevolent, educated society—not a brutish and ignorant one that prays for the miracle of a benevolent and educated deity to keep them in check. The German philosopher Friedrich Schiller wrote about exactly this sort of fiction—the antithesis of Hobbes—when he wrote on humanity and its relation to reason. “People could be developed into demi-gods, if only we sought, through education, to rid them of all fear.
Nothing in the world can make a person unhappier, than fear, pure and simple. ” Schiller was well aware of the power of emotion that we are so keen on separating from the more ‘objective’ and ‘nobler’ realm of reason. He wrote about the way that fear and self-preservation, provoked when we become intimidated by external factors, lead us to “wall ourselves off,” and in so doing, turn us into slaves. To Schiller, cognition sets us free, but sentience makes us dependent: slaves to our instincts and fears.
It is exactly this fear that Schiller is referring to that Hobbes uses to form the core of his political theory. Thus, to reason correctly is not to do that which maximizes one’s own utility in the same way we might maximize an animal’s utility: by the gratification of its base sense-desires, impulses, and the satisfaction of its ego. For this person, confined exclusively to the realm of physical existence, is reduced solely to fear when that existence is threatened. n Thus, Hobbes’ entire system of utility is exposed—it is based solely upon fear and self-preservation.
Where is reason, for Schiller, to be found in this? Indeed, for Hobbes, desire and passion form the foundation of his political theory. But, for Schiller, such things cannot form our concept of reason. Reason is the realm of our second-order thoughts and desires, while first order desires make us slaves to fear. Hence, any system of ‘reason’ grounded in Hobbesian ideals also makes us slaves to passion and fear, and such a system anchors humanity in an endless, self-perpetuating Hobbesian reality—as his Leviathan does just hat. Instead, according to Schiller, reason should free us from such things, making us Sublime; he who is not limited by physical existence, values the moral over the sensual, and has a sense of responsibility for the universal principles that lie beyond his own life, is truly reasonable. [this is the universal rationality that Gauthier does NOT endorse] In this way, to be rational is, in game theory’s terms, to always seek the Pareto Optimal regardless of the Nash Equilibrium.
Such a rationality rightly appeals to our reason as an end in itself, not merely as an individual tool for the satisfaction of our desires. Further, is not such a rationality exactly what we should adopt? Hobbesian rationality is grounded in all the wrong things—to Hobbes, we are nothing more than intelligent, savage animals. Yet, to someone of the universal rationality, reason is grounded in our humanity and frees us to become more than ourselves.
To them, humanity is so much more than selfish needs and desires, it is a collective endeavor that reasons to continuously improve and evolve. When we value reason as Schiller does, the entire paradigm of such a society’s political theory shifts. A game theoretic model of this alternative compared to Hobbes’ Leviathan could be shown as a prisoner’s dilemma for each player, where every player knows the setup of the game, and all are inclined to cooperate because of a mutual understanding through reason.
This sort of rationality differs from Hobbes’ in two key ways: first, it recognizes that, although both players are always inclined to defect at the other’s expense, they are both ultimately made better off by not doing so; and second, (all else equal) it values aggregate utility of all players over individual utility. Thus, the universalist solves the prisoner’s dilemma not through some elaborate coercive apparatus, but instead merely by thinking about someone other than himself (and note, he need not sacrifice his own self-interest; he simply adds others to the equation).
With this understanding, not only does morality play an essential role in such a theory of association, but also reciprocated cooperation helps ensure that no one ends up impoverished. When we start from these values, there is no way for a state to be ethically justified in acting coercively or violently. It cannot be done, because all immoral acts committed on their behalf will be twofold unjust. First, such acts will have been committed in the name of a state, not in the name of the only thing that can justify them: ethics.
Second, such acts ould be totally unnecessary in a society that adopts this way of reasoning, since it is already understood to be a part of the collective good to do that which might be codified into an ‘ideal’ law. Thus, it is not even in our interest to consent to the Hobbesian social contract. Therefore, in order for an actor or group of actors to be justified in taking some otherwise immoral action against another actor, their justification must somehow stem from ethical premises, and not solely legal ones. This is accepted easily enough.
However, whether or not the law can come to possess such ethical ‘charge’ is the more ambiguous question this paper seeks to address. Rules vs Laws If this means that certain things we might want to regulate as a collective (such as a plot of land, as the ‘tragedy of the commons’) are unable to be enforced through law, then we must show how we can appeal to ethics to regulate such things. We must take the time to educate everyone about the problem (such as starvation as a result of unchecked consumption), and then show how it would be immoral to commit certain acts (overconsumption).
Only from these bases would a group be normatively empowered in enforcing some regulation in an otherwise ethically ambiguous situation. In those realms outside of ethics, the standard for forming and enforcing collectively-agreed upon rules is higher, although still achievable. Thus, laws are, by nature, separate from both rules and ethics. A rough understanding of this key distinction might read that, in theory, rules assist mutual understanding, and encourage dissent and, thus, better rules.
They do not demand obedience—it is understood that rules are not to be confused with morals—but are consented to in order to facilitate organization of some sort; there may be punishments for rule violators, but even the violators would agree a priori that such punishment is in everyone’s interest. Laws, on the other hand, might assist understanding, but serve only to require obedience, and they tend to discourage dissent. The interest of all parties need not be represented in the punishment of violators, and often punishment may actually benefit no one, but simply serve to reinforce the
