The most unenviable
task confronting the student of political science lies in attempting
to define and explain the discipline of political science to those
who are unfamiliar with it. For, people who unfamiliar with the
discipline are often mislead by the grandiose-sounding title of
"political science," and thus often assume that the discipline
consists of the fascinating search for truth and meaning in the
political world. It is altogether disheartening and embarrassing
to have to explain that the "scientific" portion of the
discipline does not, in the main, actually ever even attempt to
tackle difficult political questions – nor does it produce answers
to the timeless questions of politics. It is, for example, less
than impressive to explain to the uninitiated listener that the
discipline has been bickering about parliamentary versus presidential
democratic systems for over one hundred years, (even the political
scientist Woodrow Wilson participated in this asinine debate), with
absolutely no consensus emerging. As another example, the political
science student is not likely to impress his mother or father if
he explains to them that a good chunk of the scholarship in the
discipline he’s chosen to study, (often with their money), is devoted
to the mind-numbing and worthless task of defining the word "institution."
The shocking
uselessness and banality of most political science scholarship today
ought to be readily apparent even to the student of political science
himself. Indeed, the uselessness of political science is almost
glaringly obvious to anyone who has any sense of the political history
of the last hundred years. The political history of the last hundred
years is rife with violence, world war, the growth of state power
and discretion, genocide, and socialism. These processes of de-civilization
were unfolding precisely during the time that political science
was rapidly growing and proclaiming itself to be a "scientific"
discipline that can help our understanding of these phenomena. And
yet, political science has yet to offer much that is useful for
man in his quest to reverse these processes of de-civilization.
Instead, the empirical political science literature is absolutely
chock-filled with pointless and boring analyses of "civic culture,"
"disenfranchisement," "coalition-building,"
et cetera ad nauseam. The only reason why these studies continue
to pour forth – by now a veritable flood of insipid and useless
theories and empirics – is that the funding for these studies typically
comes from the state. Hence, the funding has no relationship whatsoever
to the preferences of the poor taxpayers who are forced to pay for
them. I doubt very highly, for example, that your average tax-paying
waitress would be willing to voluntarily hand over even a penny
of her money for a political science research project to find out
whether the voting rules of the Italian parliament lead to more
or less coalition building. (I, for one, don’t give a damn what
the outcome of the study would be – and I’ve spent eight years studying
political science!)
This refusal
to tackle the consequential and difficult questions of politics
is typically not made, however, by the students of political philosophy.
These students seek answers to timeless questions, like "is
there a moral duty for rich states to help poor states with direct
aid?" However, while the students of political philosophy often
do seek answers to timeless questions of politics, they, like their
empirical brethren, almost universally neglect the paramount question
of politics. It is by their neglect of this vital question that
both empirical political "scientists" and political philosophers
make their most fateful and inexcusable mistake – a mistake that
has heretofore led political science to become a totally farcical
and insidious discipline. The paramount question of politics is:
Is taxation
morally justifiable?
What makes
this question of paramount political and ethical importance, (and
the neglect of this question so inexcusable in political science
in particular), is the fact that the entire moral justification
for the modern state rests upon the answer. If taxation is nothing
more than the forceful expropriation of man’s justly-earned property,
(i.e., robbery), then this calls into question the entire moral
justification of the state and all of its myriad functions that
are so uselessly (yet profitably) studied in political science today.
The adoption of this position would force us into what Robert Paul
Wolff and A. John Simmons have called "philosophical anarchism."
What is even
more striking about the neglect of this question by political "scientists"
and political philosophers is the fact that the argument that taxation
is synonymous with robbery is about as simple and airtight as arguments
ever get in the political realm. In fact, the argument can be stated
with simple syllogistic precision:
Robbery
is defined as seizing another man’s justly-owned property without
his consent.
In taxation,
the representatives of the state seize their subjects’ justly-owned
property without their subjects’ consent – always under the threat
of severe penalties if they refuse to obey.
Therefore,
taxation is definitionally and morally synonymous with robbery.
This argument
was given perhaps the best and most forceful articulation by the
nineteenth century American lawyer Lysander Spooner, who wrote:
"Not knowing
who the particular individuals are, who call themselves 'the government,'
the taxpayer does not know whom he pays his taxes to. All he knows
is that a man comes to him, representing himself to be the agent
of 'the government' – that is, the agent of a secret band of robbers
and murderers, who have taken to themselves the title of 'the
government,' and have determined to kill everybody who refuses
to give to them whatever money they demand. To save his life,
he gives up his money to this agent. But as the agent does not
make his principles individually known to the taxpayer, the latter,
after he gives up his money, knows no more who 'the government'
– that is, who were the robbers – than he did before. To say,
therefore, that by giving up his money to the agent, he entered
into a voluntary contract with them, that he pledges himself to
obey them, to support them, and to give them whatever money they
should demand of him in the future, is simply ridiculous." (No
Treason, No. 6)
You will search
in vain, however, through the stacks and stacks of political science
journals and numberless political science books to find more than
a handful of political philosophers, (and virtually no political
"scientists") who have ever even considered this argument.
Instead, almost every practitioner in the discipline takes as given
that the subject of their study and the piggy-bank for their never-ending
and otiose research, (i.e., the state), is both necessary and inevitable.
Having blithely assumed that both taxation and the state are morally
justifiable, they then proceed to analyze the myriad functions and
procedures of the state as though the matter was settled for once
and for all. They seem completely oblivious to the possibility that
the tax money that funds their research (e.g., to come up with the
newest and most fashionable theory of gender identity in Peruvian
politics), might simply be fresh loot from the state’s most recent
depredation on the productive members of society who are forced
to fund the political scientists’ research whether they want to
or not.
These facts
about the discipline of political science would be embarrassing
enough taken alone, but it is even more embarrassing that the moral
question of taxation has quite frequently been taken up and analyzed
by economists. Scores of economists (such as Murray Rothbard, Jean-Baptiste
Say, David Ricardo, Ludwig von Mises, Hans-Hermann Hoppe, Joseph
Schumpeter, James Buchanan, and Gordon Tullock, to name just a few),
have broached the moral question of taxation. In other words, while
political scientists have been ignoring or are completely oblivious
to the paramount question of their discipline, economists have been
tackling the problem for decades.
In conclusion,
allow me to sum up my criticism of the discipline of political science
with a challenge. I challenge any political scientist in the United
States, (or any other country, for that matter), to demonstrate
to me and to the rest of the taxpaying publics around the world
that taxation is not morally and definitionally synonymous with
robbery. If you can accomplish this task, you will concomitantly
justify the state – and by justifying the state, you will justify
the tax money you receive from the state to undertake your otiose
research.
In order to
do this, however, you will have to bear in mind that there are people
in this country and around the world who have the same attitude
as I do about your research, and who, if given the option, would
not give a penny of our hard-earned money to fund your research.
They, like me, pay for your research simply because the agents of
the state tell them that if they do not pay, they will rot in prison
for years. So, by all means, I welcome any and all attempts to prove
that people like me are not robbed to fund your research.
January
23, 2008
Mark R.
Crovelli [send him mail]
writes from Denver, Colorado.