J Value Inquiry (2010) 44:93–98 DOI 10.1007/s10790-009-9184-6 BOOK REVIEW

Lenn E. Goodman and Robert B. Talisse, eds., Aristotle’s Politics Today Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 2007, 167 pp (indexed). ISBN: 978-0-7914-7228-6, $18.95 (Pb) Carrie-Ann Biondi

Published online: 3 September 2009 Ó Springer Science+Business Media B.V. 2009

Despite many people’s skepticism about the possibility of moral politicians or a just political order, there are perennial calls for more ethical conduct in politics. For those interested in considering fruitful directions for political change, Lenn Goodman and Robert Talisse’s edited collection Aristotle’s Politics Today is the place to start. They bring together eight original essays that cull insights from Aristotle’s Politics and suggest ways in which Aristotle’s virtue ethics can be brought to bear on various problems in contemporary politics. This collection, though, is much more than a series of careful examinations of how Aristotle’s moral and political theory has relevance for us today. Goodman and Talisse rightfully view Aristotle’s theory as just foreign enough to rouse contemporary political theory out of its increasingly academic, dogmatic, and scholasticized slumbers (pp. 11–12). The essays in this volume range over a wide variety of topics in political philosophy. Fred D. Miller, Jr., examines how Aristotelian statecraft can serve as a heuristic for those who would govern in and possibly reform less-than-ideal modern liberal states. Edward C. Halper argues that liberal autonomy requires a grounding in Aristotle’s conception of the common good of political participation. Robert Talisse maintains that Aristotelian epistemic virtues can help deliberative democrats avoid some of the pitfalls of the liberal-communitarian debate. May Sim engages in a comparative analysis of Confucius’s and Aristotle’s virtue-centered politics and suggests how their views can mutually support human rights as a necessary precondition for the attainment of virtue. Lloyd P. Gerson uses Aristotelian political theory to argue against international law and against the common idea that states are moral agents. Eugene Garver explores how Aristotle’s statesman in a less-than-ideal state can indirectly attain some level of virtue and progress by aiming at C.-A. Biondi (&) Department of Philosophy, Marymount Manhattan College, 221 East 71st Street, New York, NY 10021, USA e-mail: [email protected]

123

94

C.-A. Biondi

constitutional stability. In a ‘‘newly discovered and translated’’ fictional document entitled ‘‘Aristotle’s Regime of the Americans,’’ Peter L. P. Simpson provides us with an Aristotelian description and critique of a contemporary American regime that he takes to be distorted by pleonexia and oligarchy. Lenn Goodman synthesizes Aristotle’s enduring lessons for contemporary liberal political theorists, namely, that the justice and stability we need for pursuing a good life require not only institutions like the rule of law under a constitution but also a virtuous and well-educated citizenry. For present purposes, it will be useful briefly to explore these essays by means of a few central themes: the purpose of a state, constitutionalism and the rule of law, and the role of virtue and moral education in political life. Many people—especially those in stable, liberal, democratic countries—take for granted the purpose, nature, and scope of the superstructure under which they live and how it differs from other types of associations. In different ways, Halper, Simpson, and Goodman challenge the ability of liberal neutrality to generate an adequate philosophical grounding for the individual happiness that is explicitly the purpose for which states in the liberal tradition are formed. Each sees liberal neutralism as advocating a state on a business model, which lacks the necessary conception of the common good needed to justify and sustain a political society. Simpson is most emphatic about the distortions created by conflating a state with a business. The business model of a state not only emphasizes maximization by a purely monetary standard of living, but makes the public treasury an object of desire both for those who wish to control its purse strings and for those who would like a piece of the pie. The consequence is a bloated oligarchy that rewards rent-seekers: ‘‘The result is that money is in perpetual flux in both directions: private funds coming from friends and populace to the office holders and public funds going from office holders to friends and populace’’ (p. 115). Nor does democracy as such help, especially in an over-extended economy on the brink of financial disaster. As Goodman perceptively puts the point, ‘‘The people expected their vanishing rights and goods to spring up from the ground. . . . In the kingdom of free riders, no one rides at all’’ (p. 146). The authors argue persuasively that Aristotle’s theory gets liberalism out of this bind. According to Aristotle, ‘‘while [the state comes] into being for the sake of living, it exists for the sake of living well’’ (Politics I.2.1252b29-30). ‘‘Living well’’ denotes each individual’s flourishing by using one’s rational faculties in accordance with virtue. By contrast with, say, Rawlsian liberal neutralism, Aristotle’s virtue ethics is grounded in his account of human nature, so that political societies rely unapologetically on claims about human nature to construct a proper institutional apparatus through which humans can attain the good. Both Goodman and Halper strive to quell liberal fears that appealing to such claims will lead to political oppression. To this end, Goodman reminds us of Aristotle’s critique of Socrates’s communism, which essentially argues that ‘‘[w]e do not exist to serve the larger whole. For the community is not a whole in the way that an individual is, and the community exists to preserve not just individuals but their individuality’’ (pp. 131– 132). Halper argues somewhat differently that ‘‘Aristotle stands to make the greatest contribution to contemporary political theory . . . in teaching us how to have ends without their dictating choices. Aristotle’s ends are functional human communal

123

Book Review

95

ends that do not force us to accept a particular doctrine but to put our faculties to the greatest use’’ by means of realizing our ‘‘human potential through political activity’’ that ‘‘opens a way to exercise autonomy’’ (pp. 41–42). Thus we are forced on Halper’s view to act for communal ends but not to endorse any particular doctrine in doing so. This claim seems questionable, however, for Halper’s claim is itself an expression of his interpretation of Aristotle’s political doctrine, and in practice the doctrine shapes and constrains choices by force of law. Also somewhat problematic is Halper’s claim that Aristotle’s view upsets the liberal state’s dedication ‘‘to allowing individuals to pursue their individual visions of happiness,’’ because for Aristotle ‘‘happiness is fundamentally social or communal’’ (p. 38). In this regard, Halper vitiates the value of liberal autonomy and offers an overly communitarian interpretation of Aristotle. Goodman more persuasively argues that Aristotle’s theory is consonant with liberal individualism; while individuals do need to pursue the human good through political community with others, the experience of happiness by and for the individual is ‘‘that for the sake of which’’ a state exists. Though individual happiness is the proper concern of an Aristotelian state, we should not forget that this concern has implications for how states act in the international arena. And Aristotle thinks that there must be multiple states, given that history, terrain, effective administration, and ideal size set natural limits on the territorial boundaries of a political society. Gerson directs our attention to the application of Aristotle’s political theory to international relations. Building on Aristotle’s metaphysics and ethics, he explains why states are not moral agents: states lack the sort of moral agency that is grounded in intentionality, which Gerson explains as ‘‘the self-awareness of the presence of the purpose and the selfawareness of the mental states leading to its realization’’ (p. 82). He then states that this ‘‘understanding of the intentionality of moral agency rests upon Aristotle’s account of a moral agent as one that acts meta logou, or ‘with reason’’’ (p. 83). Only an individual mind can do this, so only individuals are moral agents. Conjoining this claim with the purpose of the state as the promotion of its members’ individual flourishing, one reaches Gerson’s conclusion that authorized individuals can make decisions together about how their state acts on the international stage, but ‘‘[w]hatever the association that is the nation can do must be justified as contributing to the happiness of its own members’’ (p. 87). The legal apparatus of the state cannot justifiably be used for any other purpose, though individuals are free to act transnationally to pursue other moral ends so long as they do not undermine the purpose of their state. A provocative corollary of Gerson’s argument is that there is no such thing as international law, since ‘‘[f]or there to be a law, there has to be a sanction,’’ an impossibility in a world of states that lacks a central legal system with an enforcement mechanism (p. 90). A state might form agreements with other states that serve its purpose of furthering its members’ happiness, but they should look to ‘‘other strategies (including risk management) for insuring contractual compliance’’ rather than to so-called international law (p. 90). Aristotle is clearly one of the earliest proponents of constitutionalism and rule of law. A constitution, whether written or unwritten, provides the ordering and ‘‘way of life’’ of a political society (Miller p. 14). In addition, rationally devised laws provide a public, rule-governed structure ‘‘to institute and implement the goals for which a

123

96

C.-A. Biondi

society exists’’ (Goodman p. 142). Though Aristotle favors an aristocratic constitution in which the virtuous few citizens rule and are ruled in turn for the common advantage, he realizes that conditions often render this unfeasible. Thus, Aristotle discusses how statesmen can work with either a polity where the many free citizens rule for the common advantage, or some mixture of oligarchy and democracy in which these special interests hold one another in check to avoid devolving into their more deviant variants. Political theorists today can recognize modern liberal states among these options, as Simpson’s ‘‘Aristotle’s Regime of the Americans’’ illustrates, and Miller, Garver, and Goodman focus on Aristotle’s valuable advice for preserving mixed constitutions under the rule of law. Goodman explains that ‘‘Aristotle adopts the perspective of the social order and couches his argument prudentially, as advice about the preservation of stability’’ rather than as advice about how to rebel or transform a mixed constitution into an aristocracy (p. 114). Anarchy must be avoided, since in such a condition there is no chance of living well. Contemporary, idealistic, liberal theorists might be wary of the ‘‘crass pragmatism’’ that might seem to emerge from so stability-conscious a theory (Miller p. 17). Is morality to be thrust aside for the sake of stability? Can a good person challenge or rebel against an inferior constitution? Garver and Miller respond negatively to both questions, but for different reasons. On the one hand, Garver argues not only that Aristotle rejects revolution, but that he ‘‘doesn’t show the statesman the way to reform. . . . The statesman should aim at stability, not progress. Aiming at stability and choosing the ethically appropriate means, he will achieve progress’’ (p. 107). In order to make the case that this approach does not give up morality altogether, Garver explains how he thinks Aristotle sees the statesman ‘‘making stability into a noble end’’ (p. 98). He claims that the statesman engages in dialectic to preserve whatever constitution he finds himself under in much the same way that a rhetorician can defend both sides of an argument without taking a moral stand as to which view is right. This dialectic achieves the noble end of stability by keeping any one part of the state from merely living democratically or oligarchically and encouraging all to minimize such desires and to rule democratically or oligarchically. Here, though, Garver concedes too much to liberal neutralism in his argument’s proceduralist tone. A good statesman is not equivalent to a value-neutral rhetorician who focuses only on the validity of logical moves in an argument and indifferently adduces reasons on either side. Stability can be a noble end only if it preserves something of value, and it is not clear that Garver’s Aristotle does this. Miller, on the other hand, keeps exactly this last point in mind when arguing that Aristotle’s statesman can engage in reform but not revolution so long as stability is not threatened. Any good statesman should keep the best constitution in mind ‘‘as a regulative ideal,’’ but when confronted with less-than-ideal circumstances ‘‘should aim at reforming the existing system so that it approximates this ideal as closely as is feasible’’ (p. 18). Miller refers to this as Aristotle’s ‘‘principle of approximation.’’ It is difficult to engage in reform without triggering instability, so it should be undertaken with caution, implemented gradually, and with an awareness of how the ideal gets specified.

123

Book Review

97

At this theoretical level of analysis, Miller’s discussion is plausible. However, he runs into some difficulties when illustrating how an advocate of limited government today could try to implement reforms toward greater privatization of property. His first example is that of 1990s American welfare reform where, as a result of making welfare temporary and offering incentives to find employment, over two million people were dropped from the welfare rolls (p. 28). The second example involves public housing reforms by which low-income families received loans from Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac to move out of dangerous tenements like Cabrini Green and buy homes so that they could experience ‘‘some approximation to ownership’’ and have ‘‘a greater opportunity to develop self-esteem and an enhanced sense of responsibility’’ (p. 29). The example of welfare reform, however, is misleading. It is relatively easy to reform welfare when its recipients are a small fraction of the population and have little political power, but another thing entirely to privatize broadly based public programs like Social Security or Medicare. The example of public housing reform is somewhat unfortunate. Subprime loans made to lowincome families were an important cause of the 2008–2009 financial crisis, illustrating a point that Miller himself makes about the danger that ‘‘political reforms may be ineffective or even yield unintended deleterious consequences’’ when other elements of the system are not adequately factored in (p. 22). All of this goes to show that one needs a principle for understanding how approximationist reforms are made, which ones are selected and why, and how they will achieve certain values over the long run. The difficulties present in negotiating stability to approximate justice take us to the last major issue of virtue and moral education. Aristotle was aware of the fact that political stability is fragile. Institutional structures are necessary, but not sufficient, for a successful state. Good structures must be accompanied by good, or at least minimally decent, individuals. Most of the authors in this volume address in some way how Aristotle’s insights concerning virtue and moral education can speak to problems faced by contemporary liberal theorists. Where Halper, Talisse, and Garver focus more on the epistemic virtues, or what Talisse calls ‘‘deliberative virtues,’’ such as engaging opposition, evaluating different perspectives, and revising one’s beliefs when confronted with a good argument, Sim dwells more on the moral virtues, especially those that involve dealing with others, such as justice and generosity (Talisse p. 51). Meanwhile, Goodman highlights the crucial role that phronesis, that is, practical wisdom, can play in law and politics: ‘‘To educate for virtue . . . is not to train or provoke approved responses but to instill thoughtful modes of judgment in situations whose particularities cannot be prefigured in any mere rule. That is the strength of virtue ethics, allowing it to penetrate into the fine recesses of ordinary life’’ (p. 145). Contemporary liberal political theorists have much to gain by setting aside their aversion to moral education and substantive moral discourse and giving Aristotle a fair hearing. Despite any qualms one might have about the details of any one essay’s argument, this volume is of great value for Aristotle scholars, political theorists, and anyone who hopes to participate in political reform under wise guidance rather than an inchoate banner of change. Goodman and Talisse have certainly hit their own benchmark of success for this volume: ‘‘The chapters presented here represent at

123

98

C.-A. Biondi

best suggestions for further work, sketches of future research programs. . . . If our chapters prove stimulating in this way, this book will have achieved some of our best hopes for its impact’’ (p. 12). They and their fellow contributors have struck their side of this bargain, and in so doing have provided us with rich materials with which to pick up the gauntlet.

123