Freedom in One Lesson

29.

Natural Aristocracy as the Cure
for Kakistocracy

Americans hear mountains of praise for democracy, but few use the word “republic” anymore to describe their country. As a result, many overlook how democracy differs from and how it can even override a republic. Leonard Read, in his 1977 book Awake for Freedom’s Sake (Read 1977), provides insight into this distinction that we seem to have all but forgotten and observes that our democracy is turning into a kakistocracy.

Read defines kakistocracy as “a government by the worst men,” perhaps echoing Friedrich Hayek’s “ Why the Worst Get on Top,” the title of a chapter in The Road to Serfdom, with a tip of the hat to James Russell Lowell’s 1876 formulation, “a government . . . for the benefit of knaves at the cost of fools” (Scudder 1901).

Its definition is included in only a few of the larger dictionaries: “A government by the worst men.” One of them adds: “. . . opposed to aristocracy.” And that calls to mind Jefferson’s view: “There is a natural aristocracy among men; the grounds of this are virtues and talents.”

I like Lowell’s definition of kakistocracy. What it boils down to is a government by the worst of men, for the benefit of rogues, paid for by simpletons! Is our once-upon-a-time Republic falling into this nonsense? My purpose is to highlight our kakistocratic tendencies and to offer a few thoughts as to how they can be halted and reversed.

How do we get from a republic to kakistocracy by way of democracy? Democracy does play a role in a republic since citizens democratically determine their government’s representatives. But what is more important to a constitutional republic are the constitutional limits on what the political agents can decide on behalf of the people. Their authority should only extend to those areas that have been delegated to them. In contrast, “democracy” leaves as undefined the issues that are to be decided by majority rule. To democratically decide issues that lie beyond a republic’s legitimate boundaries is to assault rather than assist the citizens. The possibility of controlling and benefiting from that destructive process is the impetus that leads to kakistocracy.

John Locke’s Second Treatise of Government, which was influential in America’s founding, lays out the boundaries that separate a constitutional republic from a democracy that is tending toward kakistocracy. Locke asserts that “the end of law . . . is to preserve and enlarge freedom . . . from restraint and violence by others” (Locke 1690). He proposes a state existing to advance the welfare of all its citizens (the plain meaning of advancing the general welfare) as the only type of government all members of a society would voluntarily join.

What could a government do if it was restricted to advancing the general welfare of its citizens—that is, to helping citizens achieve what they have agreed they cannot do by themselves? There is only one essential thing, which derives from the “natural right” of individuals: defend the citizens and their property. The efficacy of self-ownership is limited because an individual defending his rights against violation could be overwhelmed by superior force; therefore, “the preservation of property being the end of government, and that for which men enter society,” joining together to defend our property would make everyone more secure and thereby expand the voluntary arrangements which immensely benefit us.

The list of Lockean government activities is short, essentially limited to protecting us and our property from foreign attack (national defense) and from similar assaults by our neighbors (police, courts, and prisons). Otherwise, we are best left to allocate our own resources because we know and care more about ourselves than government does. We are also less capable than government of coercing others to bear the cost of what we want.

Government actions beyond defending our rights will always benefit some at the expense of others. Since, in Locke’s words, “the supreme power cannot take from any man any part of his property without his own consent,” then, whenever that limit is violated, “ by this breach of trust they forfeit the power the people had put into their hands for quite contrary ends.”

Joint determination, beyond that which benefits all, inherently entails coercion of unwilling citizens and violations of their rights; therefore, it cannot advance their common interests. Leonard Read finds that the most common violations reflect the “redistributionist philosophy.”

A communist society, to my way of thinking, qualifies as a kakistocracy. Its coercive theme, “from each according to his ability, to each according to his need,” strikingly parallels a form of government in which knavery exploits ignorance. . . .

Regardless of the descriptive term-communism, socialism, the welfare state, or the planned economy—the redistributionist philosophy in practice presupposes the existence of three classifications of individuals, the typical specimens being: (1) the person with ability, that is, the one from whom honestly earned property is taken, (2) the person with “need,” that is, the one to whom someone else’s property is given, and (3) the person in command of the instruments of coercion, that is, the authoritarian.

The last classification—authoritarian—provides the impetus for kakistocracy.

The coercionist who forcibly takes from some and gives to others . . . exemplifies both knavery and foolishness. . . . He can be and often is motivated by the thirst for power or popular acclaim or a mixed-up sense of social justice. To feather one’s own nest, that is, to gain self-satisfaction at the expense of others, regardless of the motivation, is knavery, pure and simple.

Foolishness shows forth in the coercionist in that he unintelligently interprets his own interest. He fails to see that he cannot develop, emerge, improve himself while he is riding herd over others. The coercionist who has you on your back, holding you down, is just as permanently fastened on top of you as you are under him. In that sense, the slave owner is enslaved, as is the slave.

As Read sees it, authoritarians benefit themselves with power, acclaim, and self-satisfaction forcibly extracted from others. This is “knavery, pure and simple,” as well as foolishness (or a fool’s errand), because coercion cannot advance but only sharply erode the general welfare. Modern politics focuses almost exclusively on putting together political majorities, forcing others to accede out of respect for the false god of democracy, all in order to enable such knavery and foolishness.

How much of the power of our current leaders has come from their promising “something for nothing” to some while failing to mention the required “nothing for something” deals imposed on others? Can we rule out that the answer is “every time”? How many “crises” and “emergencies” have they made up to justify what is unjustifiable and beyond what the Constitution permits? How many times have they claimed to care more about the future than others to justify coercing Americans, then burdened the future with massive deficits, unfunded liabilities, and regulatory hobbles, impoverishing coming generations? How much have they preened about “delivering the goods,” especially at election time, after having stolen them with government’s coercive power? How many problems have they actually solved, how many have they promised to solve, and how many new problems have they caused in their inept attempts to do so?

What can we do about our government’s kakistocratic tendencies beyond recognizing and feeling depressed about them? Read finds the answer in Thomas Jefferson’s “natural aristocracy.”

Is there a cure for this devastating trend? . . . The rebirth of a natural aristocracy—virtues and talents—is the answer. . . . When a society is graced with a first-rate aristocracy—men of virtues and talents serving as exemplary models—foolish and knavish notions are held in abeyance. Why? People fear appearing as fools or knaves before those held in high esteem.

Here, Read repeats one of the most common themes in his writing: self-improvement is the most effective means to social improvement. The more knowledge, skills, insight, and wisdom I have to offer, the better off are all those who deal with me. Furthermore, kakistocratic charlatans will be less successful in fooling and worsening the lives of myself and all those who have learned from me. And unlike so many “reform” proposals, self-improvement doesn’t violate anyone else’s liberty and property.

When and to what extent will you or I strive for this required exemplarity—becoming an aristocrat? This, and this alone, is all any person can do toward ridding the world of kakistocracy. And why not strive for this role? Seeking for righteousness, learning to understand and explain why freedom works its wonders is a joyous adventure.

For Read, that “joyous adventure” is also a great service to society because, as he says in “In Pursuit of Excellence,” from Anything That’s Peaceful (Read 1964a), “virtue and talents, the natural enemies of ignorance, knavery, foolishness, malevolence, must be perpetually flowering to hold these evils in check.”