I like the idea that “the more of us we involve in the decision-making the more likely it is that we will make a decision reflecting [our] common values.” (emphasis mine)
Libertarianism and the Tragedy of the Commons
The tragedy of the commons is a first-rate device for testing the efficiency of any human proposal for governing ourselves.
The tragedy of the commons is essentially a parable with a moral, like an Aesop’s Fable. In the parable, we all live in a village that shares a commons on which we, farmers all, graze our sheep. The moral of the story is that left to our own devices, we will each decide to add one sheep too many to the commons, destroying it for ourselves and for future generations. The short term benefit to each of us of an additional sheep outweighs the intangible gain of preserving the commons for our grandchildren.
David Boaz gives us the libertarian take on the “tragedy of the commons”:
When resources–such as a common grazing area, forest or lake–are “owned” by everyone, they are effectively owned by no-one. No one has an incentive to maintain the value of the asset or use it on a sustainable basis.
In other words, the libertarian answer to the tragedy of the commons is to eliminate the commons. No commons, no tragedy. If the commons was owned by a single individual who charged everyone else grazing fees, he would be more committed to preserving it for the future than a village of farmers.
But why is this necessarily so? I could argue the converse, that a village acting collectively is more likely to avoid short-term thinking than one man responsible only to himself.
Hume made the point that in most moral philosophizing, we carry on talking about the “is” until, suddenly, in mid-paragraph, we encounter an “ought”. There is no real-world bridge from the “is” to the “ought”; all such bridges are fantasies based on optimism and self-deception.
Where libertarianism crosses this chasm is when it passes from selfishness to enlightened self-interest. A human being who owns the Pennekamp coral reef in Key Largo is entitled to break up the reefs and sell the pieces to gift shops (in the absence of a government expressing the will of the majority and telling him he can’t.) He ought to realize that there is more gain in selling tickets to Pennekamp over many generations–that way, it will support his children and grandchildren as well. But most human beings, left in complete freedom to act, will select the short-term gain. This is what the Prisoner’s Dilemma teaches: we will select betrayal over cooperation because it grants an immediate benefit more tangible to us than the repetitive, long-term benefits of cooperation.
Individuals and groups
An apparent paradox of libertarianism is that humans can be trusted individually but not in groups.
A democratic government consists of humans acting as a group. The government carries out the will of the group. In Rousseau’s terms, it carries out not only the will of the majority, but in a sense, even of the dissenting minority, who despite their disagreement with the particular action, endorse the majority will by continuing to participate in the society.
Libertarians believe, therefore, that we are singularly inept as a group. Assuming for a moment that the proposition is true– there is a lot of evidence for it–a cynic would propose that the reason we are collectively incompetent is that we are individually incompetent as well.
Libertarians, however, are optimists. I cannot fault them for this; I have written elsewhere about the importance of optimism in any human scheme, even to the point of self-deception. Nonetheless, libertarians assume, as most people do, that there is a way out of any given dilemma; their self-deception may consist of believing that what we cannot accomplish collectively, we can more effectively do individually.
Let’s take a look again at the Pennekamp reef example. Testing the proposition that commons should not exist because they will always be mismanaged, let’s try a thought experiment. Who would you rather have manage the Pennekamp coral reef so that it will remain alive, clean and available for future generations: fifty randomly picked people, or one?
Libertarians would say that fifty people, if they were acting as a government, will inevitably destroy Pennekamp, while one person, following a profit motive, is more likely to regard it as being in his self-interest to preserve it for the long term. But I think there is substantial reason to look at this the other way. Any one person you pick from the street may wish to break up the coral and sell it to souvenir shops, make a quick million and retire. If you randomly pick fifty people, chances are much greater that most of them will appreciate the benefits of preserving Pennekamp for the future. Thus, acting collectively has a smoothing effect: recognizing that we really do share some agreements as a culture which we may call values, the more of us we involve in the Pennekamp decision-making the more likely it is that we will make a decision reflecting these common values. In fact, in the classic tragedy of the commons, the tragedy happens because the villagers are not deciding collectively how many sheep to add. The tragedy happens because each individual using the commons has the right to think selfishly–exactly as an individual who owned the land might do.