Rosenfeld’s essay, apart from suggesting a plan that would never be passed, is written to take advantage of an ill-informed readership and is too idealistic.
One technique Rosenfeld uses to take advantage of (what he must assume to be) an uniformed public is to combine his opinion with a retelling of history. Because he does not qualify his opinions with statements like “I think” or “in my opinion” and does not provide any clear distinction between his retelling of historic events and his opinion, he attempts to dupe people into taking his opinions as fact. For example, he states matter-of-factly that the “Great Compromise” was erroneously named because the compromise forced “larger states to an undemocratic demand by smaller states” (36). One could argue that “one vote per state” is democratic in a convention of states.
Moreover, his choice of language in many passages showed extreme biases. For example, he satirizes and undermines James Madison’s statements by saying Madison “performed a lawyerlike pirouette in The Federalist Papers, as he propagandized” (37). This could be stated differently to give Madison his due. In another example, on the first page of his essay, he says “our leaders must necessarily pursue their unpopular aims by means of increasingly desperate stratagems of deceit and persuasion” (35). In this statement he deliberately casts politicians in a negative light but fails to qualify his opinion with more facts. He then uses this negative view of politicians to further his argument later in the essay.
In his conclusion, Rosenfeld accepts the idea that not all states would agree to take away their equal vote in the senate. How then would his plan be put into action? He states that the citizens in small states would accept a plan to decrease the power of the senate because “all American’s believe in ‘one person, one vote’” (44). If the states would not agree to decrease their power, the average American would not be willing to either. Perhaps Rosenfeld is arguing that the people are more sacrificing or more “American” than state legislatures.
Rosenfeld’s plan to eliminate or diminish the power of the senate is just as idealistic and unattainable as his hazy concept of democracy. In his essay, he does not explain his definition of democracy, which makes his essay that much harder to follow. Does his believe in complete democracy in which each person can do as he likes? Does he want a representative (republican) form of government? What kind of voting system does he deem fair? Majority rule? Rosenfeld does not address these basic questions and, instead, jumps to making broad, general statements about how the minority is victimized by the Senate and our current political process. As we discussed in class, different voting systems yield very different results. Instead of attacking the Senate, perhaps he would have done better to discuss voting methods. Even his proposal of having the majority of power invested in the House of Representatives would lead to certain biases in the system.
Another concept Rosenfeld failed to discuss is the idea that the Senate holds institutional memory due to the length of the term of office, as well as other factors. The framers of the constitution knew that the Senate would be departing from idealized democracy, but the body would be an important check on the whims of the people. The Senate would be way to control the temporary surges of popular thought in favor of more well reasoned, long-term thinking.
In this critique, I have attempted to address a few complaints I have regarding Rosenfeld’s defects in both writing styles and logic.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Interests and Democracy
In "What Democracy?: The case for abolishing the United States Senate" Richard Rosenfeld makes an interesting argument about the undemocratic nature of the Senate. If we were to view true Democracy as each person's vote having an equal say in politics, like Rosenfeld does, then the Senate is not democratic. His argument is that it should be abolished because it gives an unbalanced amount of power to small states; if the power of our government comes from the people, shouldn't a state with more people have more say than one with less? His main point is that the 26 smallest states are able to form a majority in the Senate while only representing 18% of the country's population.
On the surface, Rosenfeld's argument seems logical, and he gives lots of historic background to prove that the system of the "Great Compromise" has always been flawed. However, one may argue to counter Rosenfeld that, though small states are able to form a majority in the Senate, they are much less influential in the House of Representatives, putting a check on their influence. Also, I believe that today there is little rivalry between "small state vs. big state" voting blocs (as during the constitutional convention) with voting instead centering around political parties.
Taking these factors into consideration as well as Professor King's lectures on interest groups, I think abolishing the Senate would be unwise. Doing so would create a sort of "permanent minority" as we saw in King's game theory example, and would cause unrest and ill will in small states, which already have little influence in the House and Electoral College. More important than abolishing the Senate, reforms could be made to address what Rosenfeld sees as a problem: higher per capita federal spending on citizens of small states, than in large states. Getting rid of block grants and changing back to per capita endowments would help resolve that. And though it may be fundamentally undemocratic for these senators to have greater influence in proportion to their constituents, I don't think abolishing the senate is the place to start. Rather, if the United States wanted to move towards direct democracy comprehensive reform would be needed, addressing not only the Senate but also the Electoral College, the influence of lobbies, barriers to voting, the two-party system, etc.
On the surface, Rosenfeld's argument seems logical, and he gives lots of historic background to prove that the system of the "Great Compromise" has always been flawed. However, one may argue to counter Rosenfeld that, though small states are able to form a majority in the Senate, they are much less influential in the House of Representatives, putting a check on their influence. Also, I believe that today there is little rivalry between "small state vs. big state" voting blocs (as during the constitutional convention) with voting instead centering around political parties.
Taking these factors into consideration as well as Professor King's lectures on interest groups, I think abolishing the Senate would be unwise. Doing so would create a sort of "permanent minority" as we saw in King's game theory example, and would cause unrest and ill will in small states, which already have little influence in the House and Electoral College. More important than abolishing the Senate, reforms could be made to address what Rosenfeld sees as a problem: higher per capita federal spending on citizens of small states, than in large states. Getting rid of block grants and changing back to per capita endowments would help resolve that. And though it may be fundamentally undemocratic for these senators to have greater influence in proportion to their constituents, I don't think abolishing the senate is the place to start. Rather, if the United States wanted to move towards direct democracy comprehensive reform would be needed, addressing not only the Senate but also the Electoral College, the influence of lobbies, barriers to voting, the two-party system, etc.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Ideology and Culture
In the global arena, Huntington is correct in stating that often global conflicts are categorized as “the west versus the rest.” The United States as a superpower has inserted its hand in conflicts large and small all over the world. For Huntington this is an example of a civilization conflict. Yet, I would disagree with Huntington when he develops this categorization to include all future conflicts and declares, “the clash of civilizations will dominate global politics.” It appears to me that Huntington does not distinguish between a civilization and a religious identity. His argument that a civilization is a cultural entity that shares a cultural identity in very broad terms – Western, Confucian, Japanese, Islamic, Hindu, Slavic-Orthodox, Latin American and possibly African civilization – does not take into account that people of the same “civilization” do not necessarily share the same religion. He frames his arguments to show that the Arab world will fight the West due to differences in ideologies often advanced through native religions but does not take into account that within the Arab or West civilizations there are often different religions that clash with each other. For instance, if we use Iraq as an example, we can easily identify that the US involvement in Iraq, when combined with England and Spain among others, could be seen as “the West vs. Arabs.” But just as large of a problem is the violent struggle for power between Shiite and Sunni in Iraq. Although they are both classified within the same civilization, they do not share the same history or religion. In other words, Huntington disregards religious differences within a civilization. His argument is more based on the grounds that different views put forth by religious ideologies will clash.
On a similar vein, he portrays “African civilization” just as broadly. Here too we can see bloody struggles between peoples of the same civilization. If we take Rwanda for instance, it is a case of “ethnic cleansing” that did not occur between peoples of different civilizations. He therefore does not draw a distinction between civilizations and religious denominations. It is almost assumed that people of the same civilization will believe in the same religion or that all branches of one religion will agree or that their cultural outlooks will match. Although he does conclude by stating that he is not arguing that groups within a civilization will not have inner-conflicts, I believe he undermines the vast religious, cultural, historical and political differences of separate groups under each broadly classified civilization.
On a similar vein, he portrays “African civilization” just as broadly. Here too we can see bloody struggles between peoples of the same civilization. If we take Rwanda for instance, it is a case of “ethnic cleansing” that did not occur between peoples of different civilizations. He therefore does not draw a distinction between civilizations and religious denominations. It is almost assumed that people of the same civilization will believe in the same religion or that all branches of one religion will agree or that their cultural outlooks will match. Although he does conclude by stating that he is not arguing that groups within a civilization will not have inner-conflicts, I believe he undermines the vast religious, cultural, historical and political differences of separate groups under each broadly classified civilization.
Ideology and Culture
In considering this week's topic of "Ideology and Culture," I thought the main argument of Samuel Huntington's "The Clash of Civilizations" was particularly striking. Huntington argues that the "fundamental source of conflict in this new world will not be primarily ideological or primarily economic," rather, he argues, "the dominating source of conflict will be cultural."
Huntington begins by commenting on past conflicts that have been the result of ideological differences. For example, he argues that after World War I, conflict shifted from conflict of nations to conflict of ideologies, "first among communism, fascism-Nazism and liberal democracy." This period of history clearly witnessed conflict of ideologies.
Today, Huntington predicts that the greatest divisions in the world will be along cultural lines. While he provides several reasons supporting his hypothesis, I found one to be most interesting and, at some level, ironic. Huntington makes the claim that the most important conflicts of the future will occur along cultural lines because "the world is becoming a smaller place" and the increasing interactions between different cultures will "intensify civilization consciousness and awareness of differences between civilizations." Modern technology has enabled us to be in constant communication with people all over the world. The ease of e-mail and cell phones allows more frequent interaction with people of different civilizations. One may argue that this increased frequency of communication facilitates dialogue and allows for a better understanding of different cultures. However, Huntington believes that such interaction enhances a cultural consciousness that "invigorates differences and animosities."
While no one can confirm whether this century's major conflicts will be ideological or cultural in nature, it is interesting to consider Huntington's point that the world "becoming a smaller place" is resulting in cultural awareness that promotes animosity between civilizations. As mentioned in lecture, Putnam's book, Bowling Alone, discusses how the degree of connection in American society has decreased, as seen in the decline in participation in forms of civil society, such as bowling leagues. I believe Huntington is making a similar point on a broader scale. While cars, phones, planes, computers, and other forms of modern technology have made the world smaller and more available to us, we are losing our true connections to society. And not only are we losing our true connections to society, but we are also stirring up animosities that could result in major conflicts between civilizations.
Huntington begins by commenting on past conflicts that have been the result of ideological differences. For example, he argues that after World War I, conflict shifted from conflict of nations to conflict of ideologies, "first among communism, fascism-Nazism and liberal democracy." This period of history clearly witnessed conflict of ideologies.
Today, Huntington predicts that the greatest divisions in the world will be along cultural lines. While he provides several reasons supporting his hypothesis, I found one to be most interesting and, at some level, ironic. Huntington makes the claim that the most important conflicts of the future will occur along cultural lines because "the world is becoming a smaller place" and the increasing interactions between different cultures will "intensify civilization consciousness and awareness of differences between civilizations." Modern technology has enabled us to be in constant communication with people all over the world. The ease of e-mail and cell phones allows more frequent interaction with people of different civilizations. One may argue that this increased frequency of communication facilitates dialogue and allows for a better understanding of different cultures. However, Huntington believes that such interaction enhances a cultural consciousness that "invigorates differences and animosities."
While no one can confirm whether this century's major conflicts will be ideological or cultural in nature, it is interesting to consider Huntington's point that the world "becoming a smaller place" is resulting in cultural awareness that promotes animosity between civilizations. As mentioned in lecture, Putnam's book, Bowling Alone, discusses how the degree of connection in American society has decreased, as seen in the decline in participation in forms of civil society, such as bowling leagues. I believe Huntington is making a similar point on a broader scale. While cars, phones, planes, computers, and other forms of modern technology have made the world smaller and more available to us, we are losing our true connections to society. And not only are we losing our true connections to society, but we are also stirring up animosities that could result in major conflicts between civilizations.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
In my opinion, we as humans share a certain characteristic: insecurity, an insecurity that compels us to fight for survival, especially since, according to Samuel P. Huntington, “world politics is entering a new phase,”[1] with the emergence of new global markets and the “shrinking” of the world, thanks to globalization. The insecurity manifests itself in ways that can be extremely divisive in society, namely along ethnic or religious lines, or in the desire for capital and wealth, which translates to status and power in our modern social structure.
In the first case, people are insecure about their status as a human being, yearning for significance, not willing to accept their insignificance as just another homo sapiens on planet earth. Organizing along lines of ethnicity and religion give people a sense of solidarity and importance, as well as a “just” and “noble” cause in times of action. I have always been the one to say that both ethnicity and, especially, institutionalized religion are behind many of history’s conflicts, particularly, and most notably, some of its most violent episodes.
In the second case, people are insecure about their material security in a world where money, or capital, has been quasi-deified. A Marxist I am not, but to deny the influence of and desire for capital as, quite possibly, the paramount driving force in modern history would be silly. In their “Manifesto of the Communist Party,” Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels point out that “capital is therefore not only personal; it is a social power.”[3] It seems to be true that those with the money have the power, and this assumption has instilled in many an unmitigated ambition that has drives them to scramble, often violently, for this (now) universal source of power.
While I agree with both of these views, it is difficult to reconcile the two, as one calls upon the human social and psychological need and the other upon human greed. However, Paul Collier, in his piece “Ethnic Diversity: An Economic Analysis,” provides us with a solution. Collier basically states that while ethnic and religious diversity can create conflict in particular contexts, a capital-driven motive often comes hand in hand. For instance, rebel groups may organize on kinship/tribal lines that are ethnically or religiously charged, but they need financial resources to survive. Collier cites examples such as the civil war in
In reading these texts, I feel, now, that people tend to organize on ethnic and/or religious lines, but much of the conflict blamed upon these more “intrinsic” elements has an evident motive for material gain. Basically, society splits and sticks with its own kind to feel special and unique and it pursues material greatness to survive and dominate, often using its ethnic/religious identity as a gloss over the greed.
[1] Huntington, Samuel. "A Clash of Civilizations?" Foreign Affairs (Summer 1993). Found in, O'Neil, Patrick, and Ronald Rogowski. Essential Readings New York [2]
[3] Marx, Karl and Friedrich Engels. “Manifesto of the Communist Party.” Found in, O'Neil, Patrick, and Ronald Rogowski. Essential
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Who’s Who in Politics? Max Weber’s “Politics as a Vocation”
I would like to further examine Weber’s discussion of the ways in which people (i.e. citizens) may participate in the politics of the state.
Weber argues that there are essentially two levels of political involvement: pursuing politics as an avocation or as a vocation. People who pursue politics as an avocation have only a casual, indirect, and occasional role in political affairs. They turn out to vote and lend their support to political causes from time to time, but their main function is to elect representatives who will ultimately make political decisions on their behalf. Though such people help make the political process run smoothly, politics is not in fact their eminent concern. People who pursue politics as a vocation, however, are much more directly involved in the political process – fighting for specific political causes – and therefore hold much more power. Weber suggests that professional politicians who are economically independent (wealthy) will tend to conduct their politics more honorifically than those who may have an incentive to change the economic order of society. However, he cautions that politics is always about more than “struggles for objective goals” – it is also about “patronage of office.”
From an empirical standpoint, Weber’s classification of political activity seems to make a lot of sense. I will provisionally use the U.S. political system as a baseline of comparison (since that is the system I am most familiar with). To be sure, most Americans could be considered as those practicing politics as an avocation (or not exercising their political rights at all). About half of Americans vote, which is perhaps the easiest political act to engage in. Professional politicians in America (by which I mean those holding elective office) do seem on average to be much wealthier than their average constituent, and the relatively low pay of such distinctive jobs discourages people of average means from seeking to “live off” of politics.
But I really want to address the normative implications of Weber’s diagnosis. Is it right that politics should be conducted differently by different kinds of people? I concede that there is something inherently attractive about giving the majority of people – for whom politics is only a peripheral concern – a marginal (one could even say fictive) role in the political process. Aristotle (and Weber, I suspect) believed that there was an elite class of people that was comparatively more qualified to govern, and that they should be considered first-order citizens. I think that employing a system of representative democracy is actually a quite ingenious way of convincing everyone that they have a stake in the political process while at the same time preventing the crowds of unqualified people from making truly important and difficult political decisions (for they need only to decide who would best represent them).
I disagree with Weber, however, on the issue of economic independence (wealth) being a desirable precondition for holding public office. I am particularly skeptical of the idea that the wealthy are more likely than the rest to “live for” politics (at least for altruistic purposes). At the end of the day, politics is about resolving disputes in a diverse society that affect everyone on some tangible level; that is, everyone has a stake in politics. Now, if the people charged with resolving the disputes do not themselves reflect the diversity that is in society, then the dispute may never be resolved. (Would the civil rights inequalities have been resolved in the 1960s had no black leaders engaged in the political debate?) If society is represented only by the rich, then we are all the more likely to have a Marxist state that reflects only the interests of the rich. I argue that a diverse state should have a truly representative political community, whatever conflict that may bring. That is the essence of politics.
Weber argues that there are essentially two levels of political involvement: pursuing politics as an avocation or as a vocation. People who pursue politics as an avocation have only a casual, indirect, and occasional role in political affairs. They turn out to vote and lend their support to political causes from time to time, but their main function is to elect representatives who will ultimately make political decisions on their behalf. Though such people help make the political process run smoothly, politics is not in fact their eminent concern. People who pursue politics as a vocation, however, are much more directly involved in the political process – fighting for specific political causes – and therefore hold much more power. Weber suggests that professional politicians who are economically independent (wealthy) will tend to conduct their politics more honorifically than those who may have an incentive to change the economic order of society. However, he cautions that politics is always about more than “struggles for objective goals” – it is also about “patronage of office.”
From an empirical standpoint, Weber’s classification of political activity seems to make a lot of sense. I will provisionally use the U.S. political system as a baseline of comparison (since that is the system I am most familiar with). To be sure, most Americans could be considered as those practicing politics as an avocation (or not exercising their political rights at all). About half of Americans vote, which is perhaps the easiest political act to engage in. Professional politicians in America (by which I mean those holding elective office) do seem on average to be much wealthier than their average constituent, and the relatively low pay of such distinctive jobs discourages people of average means from seeking to “live off” of politics.
But I really want to address the normative implications of Weber’s diagnosis. Is it right that politics should be conducted differently by different kinds of people? I concede that there is something inherently attractive about giving the majority of people – for whom politics is only a peripheral concern – a marginal (one could even say fictive) role in the political process. Aristotle (and Weber, I suspect) believed that there was an elite class of people that was comparatively more qualified to govern, and that they should be considered first-order citizens. I think that employing a system of representative democracy is actually a quite ingenious way of convincing everyone that they have a stake in the political process while at the same time preventing the crowds of unqualified people from making truly important and difficult political decisions (for they need only to decide who would best represent them).
I disagree with Weber, however, on the issue of economic independence (wealth) being a desirable precondition for holding public office. I am particularly skeptical of the idea that the wealthy are more likely than the rest to “live for” politics (at least for altruistic purposes). At the end of the day, politics is about resolving disputes in a diverse society that affect everyone on some tangible level; that is, everyone has a stake in politics. Now, if the people charged with resolving the disputes do not themselves reflect the diversity that is in society, then the dispute may never be resolved. (Would the civil rights inequalities have been resolved in the 1960s had no black leaders engaged in the political debate?) If society is represented only by the rich, then we are all the more likely to have a Marxist state that reflects only the interests of the rich. I argue that a diverse state should have a truly representative political community, whatever conflict that may bring. That is the essence of politics.
politics as a vocation?
Given Weber's historical context, post-WWI Germany, I might be more inclined to agree with his assertion that the state (as we conceptualize it) holds the only legitimate right to use violence. Weber would certainly have a strong argument regarding a state's legitimate use of violence in international affairs, but it's pretty clear that his intimation is that the state reserves the legitimate use of violence in compelling its own subjects or citizens. Today (and by today I mean since the sixties or so), however, the state's legitimation apparatus seems far less predicated on the threat of violence, to the extent that our state (the U.S.) is often and roundly criticized when it does resort to violence against it's citizens (i.e. Rodney King, virtually every case of police violence since, Ohio state, Guantanamo, etc etc). To be fair, Weber does not imply that violence is the sole means of compelling obedience or channeling behavior. at the same time, it seems as if the legitimacy with which Weber annoints the state's use of power has become more and more questionable, and all the while the rational-legal apparatus hasn't totally fallen app art. Again, perhaps Weber had no such evidence at the time to compel his conclusion, but his assertion does paint a fairly grim portrait of human social behavior, if not a sweeping assumption of the negativity of social behavior.
Another rather dark and mopey assumption Weber makes, is that the ethic of responsibility, or the ethic of the saint simply have no place in politics; they by their own virtue cannot survive in the political arena. Weber argues that the ethic of responsibility/the saint is and ethic of extreme personal sacrifice, of "indignation" were it to be subscribed to by anyone other than a saint. While I don't mean to imply Christian ideals ought to be followed as Weber describes them (or at all), I do think ideals of social responsibility and a general caring for others can and ought to have a greater role in politics. Again, Weber was speaking before the advent of the welfare state, but I still think Weber's ascertation of what can compel social behavior is limiting. If we fail to imagine a state of affairs that is better than the one we observe around us, we can only criticize in vain. But then, Weber isn't exactly criticizing anything.
Another rather dark and mopey assumption Weber makes, is that the ethic of responsibility, or the ethic of the saint simply have no place in politics; they by their own virtue cannot survive in the political arena. Weber argues that the ethic of responsibility/the saint is and ethic of extreme personal sacrifice, of "indignation" were it to be subscribed to by anyone other than a saint. While I don't mean to imply Christian ideals ought to be followed as Weber describes them (or at all), I do think ideals of social responsibility and a general caring for others can and ought to have a greater role in politics. Again, Weber was speaking before the advent of the welfare state, but I still think Weber's ascertation of what can compel social behavior is limiting. If we fail to imagine a state of affairs that is better than the one we observe around us, we can only criticize in vain. But then, Weber isn't exactly criticizing anything.
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