So for the past week, I’ve been neck-deep in teaching a two-week intensive Introduction to Philosophy course (go figure) at Moody Bible Institute (go figure), and having a blast with it. And apparently so are some of my students—when I learned (very belatedly) that there would be no class on MLK Day, and thus had to cut the “Political Philosophy” unit out of the syllabus, several of them suggested meeting today at a local donut shop for an informal class anyway. And so we did. So with just two hours to introduce them to fundamental questions in political philosophy, here’s what I came up with: Read More
Piketty Notes and Quotes, 5: Inequality Language Games
Here’s another post on Piketty that isn’t really about Piketty per se, but about the sorts of conversations one finds oneself in when talking about him. Over the past week and a half, I have been struck by a curious tendency I have encountered in a number of Christians when the subject of inequality comes up.
“So are you saying inequality is a problem, inequality is bad?”
“Well, yeah, I do think that, at least beyond a certain point, it’s a problem.”
“So why is it bad?”
“Well, it tends to create all these negative consequences, you see: social unrest, unhealthy concentrations of political power, oppression, etc.”
“So the problem then isn’t inequality, but people being envious, or people being power-hungry and corrupt, or people being oppressive, right?”
“Well, yeah, but high inequality tends to create those problems. What’s your point?”
“Ah, but see you’re admitting now that inequality is not bad in itself. It’s people who are bad, and these sins are just as much sins whether or not I have the same as you or a million times as much as you.”
“Um . . . ok. But my point is that inequality is still a problem for our society.”
“But you’ve just admitted that inequality in itself isn’t the problem.”

Working for All You’re Worth: Some More Thoughts on the Minimum Wage Debate
A few weeks ago, I wrote a brief reflection on the recent debates over the minimum wage for Capital Commentary. My purpose there, and in the several conversations I’ve had in social media on this question, was not really to advocate for or against raising the minimum wage; in my view, the economic and political complexities of the issue are such that I’m inclined to be suspicious of anyone who’s confident they know the right answer to the question. My main concern is to call out really bad arguments against the minimum wage, particularly those peddled by Christians. There may well be a good case to make against the minimum wage, but it seems awfully hard to find people making it sometimes.
So I want to reflect a bit more fully on what’s wrong with one of the common conservative arguments against the minimum wage: that the laborer is only worth his productivity. The argument goes something like this: Sure, it sounds wonderful to pay people a living wage, but a worker’s job is to contribute productivity to a business, adding value by his labor, and ultimately, the business cannot afford to pay him any more than what he brings in. If a McDonald’s worker can only contribute an average of $6 profit per hour to the company by his labor, then McDonald’s will go broke pretty quick paying him $10/hr. Accordingly, raising the minimum wage will simply increase unemployment, and instead, therefore, we should focus on raising worker productivity. So Acton’s Joe Carter says,
“Instead, we should focus on faster economic growth and improving productivity of low-skilled workers. By increasing the value of a worker’s labor, we make it possible for them not only to feed their family but also to help fulfill the needs and desires of their neighbors….The goal should not be to merely give people a living wage but to help them gain the ability to make a life for themselves based on the value of their labor. What the working poor need most is marketable skills and productive jobs, not more handouts disguised as ‘wages.'”
Now, arguments like this have a weaker, pragmatic form, and a stronger, moral form. The moral version, favored by doctrinaire free marketeers, argues that a laborer ought not to be paid more than his productivity, which marks the just price of his labor—as someone put it to me in a Facebook discussion, “if you can’t find somebody who values your labor at $X/hr., then you have no right to employment.” The pragmatic version would be: “It’s a cold hard world out there, and the fact is that the only way you’re going to get McDonald’s to employ people at $10/hr. is by making their labor worth $10/hr.” There are problems with both versions, but I will begin by tackling the moral problem.

Working for All You’re Worth: Some More Thoughts on the Minimum Wage Debate
A few weeks ago, I wrote a brief reflection on the recent debates over the minimum wage for Capital Commentary. My purpose there, and in the several conversations I’ve had in social media on this question, was not really to advocate for or against raising the minimum wage; in my view, the economic and political complexities of the issue are such that I’m inclined to be suspicious of anyone who’s confident they know the right answer to the question. My main concern is to call out really bad arguments against the minimum wage, particularly those peddled by Christians. There may well be a good case to make against the minimum wage, but it seems awfully hard to find people making it sometimes.
So I want to reflect a bit more fully on what’s wrong with one of the common conservative arguments against the minimum wage: that the laborer is only worth his productivity. Read More
Liberty, Libertarianism, and Christian Ethics
A curious feature of American Christianity, rarely shared by Christians in other nations and cultures, is its propensity toward libertarianism, a philosophy that, at first glance, would seem to be intrinsically inimical to Christian teaching. Where libertarianism tends to put the individual, his preferences, and his interests first and foremost, Christianity has always insisted that man is social, man is meant for community, and ought to put the interests of others first. Where libertarianism exalts the value of unrestricted free choice, on the basis of individual preferences and interests, Christianity is committed to a strong view of objective moral norms which condition our freedom, rendering many choices unacceptable on the basis that they are in fact harmful both to the community and the individual. Clearly a Christian cannot coherently be libertarian in this extreme sense.
For many American Christians, then, their libertarianism is of a pragmatic sort. The argument, they will say, is not that the individual should in fact be ultimate, or that any exercise of free choice is good and lawful—on the contrary, individualism is harmful, and many free choices are very bad ones, and deserve censure. Rather, the argument is merely that the restriction of choice by the tool of government coercion will do more harm than good. Government simply should not be trusted with the enforcement of these moral norms, because law is a blunt instrument that will suppress legitimate freedoms along with illegitimate ones, and power corrupts, so it is not safe to entrust this duty to fallen men. Better to allow individuals to make free decisions that might sometimes be harmful than give police power to the state to repress such actions. Such a pragmatic libertarian logic, as I mentioned recently, seems to have traditionally undergirded the right of free speech—people will say lots of harmful, offensive, and unwise things, but giving the government power to suppress such statements will be much worse than living with the collateral damage of this liberty. Likewise, some Christians may argue that yes, stockpiling excessive wealth is a bad thing, and ought to be used for charity, but we can’t trust the government with deciding what constitutes “excessive wealth.”
Fair enough. Of course, we might object that many American Christians apply this logic selectively, declaring themselves all in favor of government suppression of vice on abortion, marriage, or anything that falls under the heading “family values.” Or we might point out that if the argument is going to be pragmatic, then we must be committed to a serious empirical investigation of whether the suppression of a given liberty (e.g., stockpiling excessive wealth) really does do more harm than judicious legal restriction would do. (This, incidentally, would yield something like more classical conservatism, which is genuinely committed to limited government, but also to a firm rule of law in those areas where liberty proves harmful.) But let’s leave those objections aside for now, and allow the basic logic. Now, according to this logic, if certain exercises of freedom are in fact harmful or morally objectionable, but civil authority should not be brought to bear in restraining them, then it would seem to follow that all other, non-coercive means should be brought to bear as fully as possible in restraining them. I alluded to this in my discussion of Limbaugh and free speech. If we are agreed that seditious or slanderous speech is a bad thing, but that we shouldn’t give government the power to suppress it, then it should fall to us, as responsible citizens, moral people committed to truth, and good Christians, to oppose such speech to the fullest of our ability. We should use our own freedom of speech to denounce it, we should withdraw our support from those engaged in such wicked speech, should seek to leave them socially and economically isolated. The fact that nowadays the right to “freedom of speech” is invoked to give any kind of speech immunity from criticism, to imply that those denouncing it are virtually fascists, is clear evidence that in this realm, the pragmatic justification has given way to an ideological one, that the idea that strong moral norms still individual freedom is being jettisoned. The seductive logic of full-blown libertarianism has subverted the attempted pragmatic compromise.
The same thing, I suggest, has happened to American Christians, particularly on issues such as economic ethics. A serious Christian, attentive to the teaching of the Bible and the Christian ethical tradition, would recognize that much of what we as individuals like to do with our money is morally vicious and socially harmful—we greedily stockpile far more than we need, and withhold excess resources from those who urgently need them, we covet material pleasures of every description, we deceive and rip people off in order to come out on top in our exchanges, we pay people the lowest wage we can get by with, pocketing all the extra profit, etc. Logically, then, a Christian “pragmatic libertarian,” while convinced that employing government power to restrain such things would do more harm than good, ought to be committed to opposing them by every other means. Ministers should denounce such sins from the pulpit, and individual Christians should oppose them whenever they saw them. Christian ethicists should write and speak about the dangers of wealth and greed, and seek to establish, in the absence of legal guidelines, moral guidelines for discerning a just wage and a just price, for when too much is too much. Christians should be committed to bring non-coercive social pressures to bear, for instance boycotts, protests, etc., to seek to restrain such vices. Right? And yet, in my experience, we find the opposite. In fact, whenever such moral pressures and objections are brought to bear, the reaction is no less indignant than if legal force were being used. Not only must Wal-Mart be legally permitted to pay its workers a minuscule wage, but Christians should not be so “Pharisaical” as to critique it on moral grounds. Rather than welcoming moral guidance on issues of economic ethics, most Christians balk at it as an intolerable restriction on freedom, and woe betide the pastor who dares to address such questions. Instead of reasoning, “sure, there’s a such thing as excessive wealth, but the government shouldn’t be trusted to draw the line,” we are told that any attempt to draw the line is oppressive. “How dare you judge me?” instinctively says the Christian with five cars and three houses. But of course, this confusion—of moral judgment with genuine tyranny—is the same that modern libertine secularism routinely makes, when it decries the moral claims of Christianity as fascistic, treating any statement of disapproval as tantamount to a restriction of freedom, and hence demanding an immunity from any statement of criticism. The homosexual rights lobby has gone from asking for civil liberty to wanting to shut the mouths of pastors who apply biblical teaching to sexuality, and the Christian Right has gone from demanding immunity from redistributive taxation to wanting to shut the mouths of pastors who apply biblical teaching to wealth.
My suspicion, of course, is that this is no coincidence, and that in fact the “pragmatic libertarian” position, as I have called it, is inherently unstable, logically incapable, by its starting point in individual rights, of sustaining genuine social norms. But for those who don’t want to accept that conclusion, let’s at least see an attempt at consistency—if you don’t want the government dealing with vice and injustice, then at least step up to the plate and be willing to deal with it yourself.