Brian Z. Tamanaha - On the Rule of Law

If on occasion you happen to tune into political discussions on the radio, catch the blathering of new correspondents and pundits on television or read discarded newspapers in coffee shops, you have no doubt encountered numerous incantations concerning the rule of law. However used, the rule of law has become a buzz phrase, entrenching itself within the vocabulary of all who feign even the remotest interest in political and legal theory. In fact, the rule of law has been so widely endorsed that its support has been described as “a feat unparalleled in history” (3). Widespread global acceptance notwithstanding, ignorance abounds. Despite being “the preeminent legitimating political ideal in the world today” (4), there is little agreement as to what rule of law means. “Few government leaders who express support for the rule of law, few journalists who record or use the phrase, few dissidents who expose themselves to risk of reprisal to its name, and few of the multitude of citizens throughout the world who believe in it, ever articulate precisely what it means” (3). Additionally, homage to the rule of law is not restricted to Western, liberal or democratic states. Iran, China and Zimbabwe have explicitly acknowledged the value and importance of the rule of law. The resulting confusion is the impetus behind Brian Tamanaha’s On the Rule of Law.

Admittedly, the rule of law is a concept that largely eluded my understanding during law school. (Perhaps there is value in attending classes and reading assigned material!) While I was familiar with the concept and its implications, were I to be asked to articulate a working definition I would have simply stammered. Even if I were to have the presence of mind to comment on how rule of law was an overarching principle that governed the governing, I likely would have struggled with any further explicatory attempts. As my graduate studies in law progressed so did my understanding; however, my ability to communicate cogently continued to flounder. I was having particular difficulties articulating what the rule of law’s implications for the legitimacy of public health law. Were this not crucial to my dissertation perhaps I would not have been so distressed. Enter Tamanaha.

Presently, I am confident that I could articulate a constructive understanding of rule of law. In large part I owe this to Tamanaha, who traces the historical development of rule of law, clearly differentiates between formal and substantive theories and identifies recurring themes in the rule of law tradition. What is particularly helpful about Tamanaha’s approach is the recognition that there is no agreement or certainty. Despite my own dissatisfaction with how Tamanaha deals with some of the uncertainty (which will be the subject of further exploration below), it is nevertheless refreshing that the discussion is not distracted by false declarations of absolutism.
The first half of the book is comprised of a historical discussion, starting with the Greeks and Romans and continuing to contemporary commentators. For those with little to no familiarity with rule of law theory, the major players soon become evident: Mill, Locke, Montesquieu, Constant, Hayek, Unger – and other (mostly dead) rich white men. Although I do not wish to adopt a hermeneutic of suspicion of all things emanating from rich white men, is the rule of law’s association with economic liberty at all surprising? Economic liberty, surprisingly, is not explicitly discussed. It is surprising because Tamanaha does spend considerable time discussing liberty in the text as, “the rule of law today is thoroughly understood in terms of liberalism …. [and a]bove all else liberalism emphasizes individual liberty” (32). Four themes of liberty are identified: political liberty, the self-rule of individuals; legal liberty, the freedom from coercion and legal interference; personal liberty, restricting the government from infringing on personal autonomy; and institutionalized preservation of liberty, preventing any accumulation of total power.

Economic liberty would undoubtedly fit within several of these broader themes but, given its prominence elsewhere in the text, it would undoubtedly been advisable to incorporate it as its own theme. Economic liberty can be subsumed under personal liberty and legal liberty; after all, these themes prevent interference with how individuals choose to live their lives, including how they decide to use their resources. Notwithstanding this, it seems to me that economic liberty also allows for another level of freedom: namely, for those that have economic means to enjoy privileges and benefits otherwise unavailable. In addition, economic liberty extends beyond individual autonomy to include institutions, associations and, of course, businesses. Similarly, economic liberty seems to stretch the notion of legal liberty by doing more than simply preventing coercion and interference by erecting economic safeguards and legislations that helps to maximize the creation and preservation of wealth – read: liberty. I cannot help but remain suspicious that, in discussing liberty, the real concern is not to allow the indigent to make autonomous decisions. To be sure, the liberty of all buttresses the arguments made by the few, but the sincerity is questionable. Especially when one begins to identify the “barriers” to liberty often discussed. We are wise to be reminded: “the liberty of the strong, whether their strength is physical or economic, must be restrained.”[1]

Despite not treating economic liberty as an independent theme, Tamanaha does not shy away from the association between economics and liberty. As he notes, “the liberty championed by liberalism is substantially played out in the economic arena” (44). He further acknowledges a blending of liberalism and capitalism. This is not an uncommon understanding of rule of law. As Tamanaha notes, for Friedrich Hayek “[c]apitalism, liberalism, and the rule of law are thus tightly wrapped together” (97). For Hayek this means that the rule of law is unable to operate in the social welfare state. Tamanaha recognizes that there are those who would contest this notion, particularly those he identifies as being on the “radical left.” From this position, rather than liberty for all, “liberalism liberates some – those with economic power – to dominate others – those without” (75). Thus, liberalism is not conceived of in terms of neutrality, but in economic elitism. While Tamanaha does not completely reject this point of view, given how he frames the themes of rule of law, there is little question that he does not embrace this view. While I certainly will not be able to settle the ongoing debate about the role of economic liberty in discussions about rule of law, I do think that one’s perspective is critical to how they define and understand rule of law.

Tamanaha differentiates between the substantive and formal views of rule of law. A formal understanding of rule of law does not render judgments on the actual content of the law, but is instead concerned with the way the law is promulgated; in other words, the source and form of law. The substantive view is concerned with the content of law, with formal attributes and rights. Within each Tamanaha identifies “thinner to thicker accounts,” the latter have more requirements than the former. At its thinnest, it is the notion that the state should conduct its through laws; in other words, rule by law. It is a position that does not speak to limitation on government, “the sine qua non of the rule of law tradition” (92), and thus is compatible with authoritarian regimes. While slightly more rigorous, the formal legality conception of rule of law (the favoured conception by Western legal theorists, observes Tamanaha) is equally devoid of any notion of what makes good or just laws. It speaks, rather, to law’s ability to guide behaviour. Thus rule of law requires that the law be “prospective, general, clear, public, and relatively stable” (93). The likes of Raz, Fuller and Hayek have espoused various formulations of rule of law as formal legality. Rule of law, then, is held to further autonomy and dignity, as it allows people to plan their activities with an understanding in advance of the legal implications. I think “people” is used here explicitly (94), as it is clear that the benefits conferred by the formal legality conception of rule of law serves to benefit more than individuals but also legal persons (read: business). This version imposes on procedural requirements, with no commentary on the substantive aims of law. What is interesting is how this has come to be understood. For example, as Hayek has noted in The Constitution of Liberty, the quantity of legislation should not be of concern for those who adhere to this understanding of rule of law, provided of course that the legislation in question conforms to the requirements of formal legality. Yet, it would seem, that the formal legality version of rule of law is often used to speak to substantive matters. The final formal version concerns democracy. Again, the substance of the law is not determined, but only the process (democracy) of determining the content of law.

A formal understanding is, arguably, the view adopted most by those whom I would place within the ‘economic liberty’ camp and the view that Tamanha attributes to the majority of Anglo-American legal theorists (92). This makes sense, given that a formal understanding does not promote specific aims but rather promotes individual autonomy. Thus, rule of law is “indifferent toward the substantive aims of the law and is ready to serve a variety of … aims with equal efficiency” (94). If rule of law were to be understood substantively, it is argued, it would require the government to effectuate measures to promote various aims, such as distributive justice, which in turn would undermine individual liberty. Substantive versions of rule of law necessarily incorporate elements of formal rule of law and simply add specific content. At its thinnest it involves individual rights and at its thickest social welfare. The result, Tamanaha’s observes, is that “[t]he rule of law … serves as a proxy battleground for a dispute about broader social issues, detracting from a fuller consideration of those issues on their own terms, and in the process emptying the rule of law of any distinctive meaning” (114). While I am not entirely convinced by his claim that substantive understandings of rule of law empty rule of law of distinctive meaning, I am willing to accept that the proper understanding of rule of law is formal. In part, formality may help to restrict the economic calculus used to interpret rule of law. While my hypothesis may prove fatal, if rule of law is formally understood it may in fact impede the substantive aims of the economic elite. Part of my discontent with arguments around rule of law has been the shrouding of substantive understandings as formal. At the same time, however, it is recognized that formal understandings tend to benefit particular classes of individuals, particularly property owners (122).

Tamanaha identifies three recurring themes in rule of law that are helpful in explaining what rule of law actually means. Each will be explored briefly.

(1) Government limited by law
The idea of limiting the power of government has already been identified above as the sine qua non of rule of law. Restraining government tyranny, Tamanaha notes, has long pre-existed the idea of individual liberty (115). At its core, it holds that government is not only bound by law but also have restraints on their law-making power. While the former can be circumvented, by government amending laws so they it will not stand in their way, the latter stipulates that there are certain things a sovereign can never do (118). In modern liberal states, bill of rights are often understood as limiting government’s power. That bill of rights can be understood as either substantive or procedural, and in some instances both, is a curious fact. How bill of rights are conceived undoubtedly are a reflection of preexisting political assumptions. Embracing rights as procedural helps to guarantee them and yet at the same time denies them the opportunity to substantively inform the legislative process. Perhaps this is why I often feel that debates about rights are schizophrenic.

(2) Formal legality
As noted above, substantive rule of law incorporates elements of formal rule of law. Thus, it is not surprising that a common them of rule of law concerns formal legality. To reiterate, it speaks to the form and procedure of determining the content of law, not the substance. This theme is favoured by legal theorists and, as noted by Tamanaha, “the dominant understanding of the rule of law for liberalism and capitalism” (119). He notes: “… public, prospective laws, with the qualities of generality, equality of application, and certainty, are well suited to facilitating market transactions because predictability and certainty allows merchants to calculate the likely costs and benefits of anticipated transactions. A growing body of evidence indicates a positive correlation between economic development and formal legality that is attributable to these characteristics” (119). What I find disconcerting is that formal legality, which may indeed lend itself to facilitating market transactions, is often deemed as a means of ensuring and protecting markets. That is, formal legality is often championed not as an end in itself but as a means of vitalizing the market. What response would be had if the incidental effect of formal legality actually impeded markets? Formal legality incidentally enhances market transactions, but this should not result in an interpretation of formal legality as a mechanism to promote markets. While the difference may be subtle, it is often difficult to determine why formal legality is held in such high regard. Surely autonomy and dignity has a more profound meaning than the market! If rule of law is thought to enhance markets, is the association between rule of law and economic liberty at all surprising? Likewise, the retort to rule of law by the economic elite, particularly in response to distributive justice, becomes transparent and explicable.

(3) Rule by law, not by man
The last theme is grounded upon a fundamental distrust and fear of others. “The inspiration underlying this idea is that to live under the rule of law is not to be subject to the unpredictable vagaries of other individuals” (122). Abuse is inherent in power, particularly power to rule others. The difficulty, of course, is that humans inevitably rule because “laws are not self-interpreting or applying” (123). The judiciary, and consequently judges, play a vital role; “the judge becomes the law personified” (123). Hence the ideal judge is one who is unbiased, impartial, neutral, free of passion and loyal only to the law. It is also the impetus behind the independent judiciary. Such a judge is a fictitious character. Tamanaha notes the danger of rule of law becoming rule by judges (124). In spite of the danger, he notes that the world over there are government officials and judges who, rather than subjecting individuals to their whim and fancy, are complying with their duty to apply the law. Of course, the law typically favours the wealthy and the privileged and, even where it may not, access to the law is disproportionately available to the wealthy and privileged. As a consequence, rule by law may be perceived as the source of abuse and the reason for distrusting others in the first place, although I will not explore the merits of this argument here. That judges are almost exclusively from a single class, are usually appointed by like-minded partisan officials, are human beings and thus are likely to encumbered with bias and passion, and no doubt judges have ulterior loyalties whether to individuals or principles. Perhaps it would be better stated: rule by law by man.

A sentiment often quoted concerning the rule of law is from E.P. Thompson, a Marxist historian (a point not often overlooked), that the rule of law is an unqualified, universal good. As Tamanaha notes, Thompson discovered “the ideology of being bound by the law had a restraining effect on those effect on those with power, whether the monarchy or the wealthy” (137). He further notes, “[a]s complicit as law often was in perpetuating domination and inequality, Thompson nonetheless found that ‘the rule of law itself, the imposing of effective inhibitions upon power and the defence of the citizen from power’s all-intrusive claims, seems to me to be an unqualified human good’” (137) [2]. Tamanaha qualifies this by suggesting that rule of law should always be evaluated from the standpoint of justice and the good of the community (141). I am willing to acknowledge the benefit of rule of law, but certainly there can be no unqualified goods. The rule of law certainly may benefit humanity in some respects (and in many respects for some), but as an ideology it is predicated upon assumptions (often unspoken) that need further exploration. Included are assumptions about the good of markets and capitalism, the nature of humanity and human relations and the meaning of rationality and free choice. Notions such as these should not be haphazardly dealt with or be subject to discussions rife with anecdotal examples and propositional statements. Unfortunately, the underlying issues are often treated as truisms and not controversial issues that, if subject to further inquiry and discussion, would shed new light on rule of law.

––

[1] Isaiah Berlin, recounting Tawney, in I. Berlin, Two Concepts of Liberty (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1958) at 55.

[2] See E.P. Thompson, Whigs and Hunters: The Origin of the Black Act (New York: Pantheon Books, 1975) at 266.

Blogger's Ambitions... again.

Two years have passed since my last - and only - book review blog. It would seem that I only became a blogger for a day. It is nice to note that my blog has been trolled by an online advertisement. At least it has been viewed!

In two years much has happened, including two kids, another degree and I have become a runner. My resolve to blog has, believe it or not, stayed the same. My blog suffered an all-too-common death: bring back cogito ergo blogo, Ben! The real problem I encountered was a fear of posting unrefined thoughts. I suppose I anticipated some readership (despite rational thoughts that assured me otherwise) and dreaded being scorned. As my good friend Ben pointed out in a comment to my aforementioned solitary post, I am a nerd. I used footnotes in my blog [1]. I suppose I cannot help but want to treat a blog like a publication. After all, prospective employers could google my name, find my blog and decide to not hire me due to my proclivity to avoid contractions, the improper use of participles, incorrect grammar (do I use the Oxford comma or not?) or my tendency to write with dictionary in hand (correction: dictionary-as-a-built-in-function-of-my-mac's-dashboard-available-with-the-convenience-of-pushing-F12) in order to use the most accurate and technically correct words possible (to be clear, this is not the same as writing with a thesaraus in order to find big words; I like to pretend that I already know such words and merely required a dictionary to confirm their precision). In the alternative, they may not hire me because I am a raving lunatic. Admittedly, I am also afraid of silly errors - hence my writing blogs (generally) in a word processor prior to posting. While I will not deny that I also wish to avoid sounding like an uninformed and uncritical simpleton, I fear more the thought of one day reading previous posts and being incredulous to my previous state of mind. I blame Gary Dann for this, having years ago advised me against writing in my books (which, admittedly, I continue to do) given that I was likely to revisit some of the books in the future and be dismayed at the incompetence of the previous reader who had the audacity to mark up the text!

In spite of my apprehensions, and my apparent inability to produce, I've decided once again to embark on a blogging journey. The impetus for this decision is largely due to an old friend I have recently become acquainted with again. To my delight, he and I share many of the same views. He also has a blog, which I would encourage others to visit: http://aaronbonham.blogspot.com/. His blog made me reflect on my blog and lo and behold, it continued to exist. In addition, I have actually been reading books. Shocking, but a requisite activity to blogging about books is reading books. While I have always intended to read books, as of late the reading of books has been actualized. Finally, I have a thesis to write. One may be inclined to think that spending time on a blog would inhibit the progress of said thesis - a sentiment that will hopefully be proven false - but I am confident that the mere exercise of writing, in whatever manner, will stimulate the creative juices and help me overcome my current impasse. Besides, I have every intention to write posts about thesis-related materials; consider my blogs preliminary drafts.

If I were to be honest, unless I actively pursue a readership, consisting mainly of my likeminded friends, nobody (perhaps with the exception of advertisers!) is likely to read any of this. To those of you that have responded to my appeal for readership, I thank you.

So, I embark on the second (fatal?) attempt at blogging. To get over the intial qualms of unrefined posts I have not drafted this post in a word processor and I didn't use spell check. I have just now used a contraction and will proceed to make a silly error somewhere in text that follows: believe me, its there. If my blogger's ambition does not fail me, you will hear from me soon.

ja.

[1] Who is the bigger nerd now? The one including footnotes, or the one referring to them?

Imperial Ambitions - Noam Chomsky

It seems that people are polarized when it comes to Chomsky - they love him or they hate him. Those that love him tend to use him as a proof-text whereas those who hate him often dismiss him and those who love him. Admittedly, I was one of those people who would readily identify themselves in the "love him" camp, even though my exposure to Chomsky was limited. Like many others, I have opened a few of his books, read some here and there, and have paid close attention when other commentators have quoted him. I even own several volumes of his work. However, aside from a few of the smaller titles (What Uncle Sam Really Wants, 9-11) I have never sat down and read Chomsky from cover to cover - that is, until Imperial Ambitions.

In reading Chomsky, I better understand the polarization. After all, if I were a rich conservative pushing the hegemonic agenda to increase my personal wealth and influence, I can't imagine that I would have fond thoughts of Chomsky. On the other hand, I certainly understand why people are drawn to Chomsky. Most of the fragmentary exposure I have had to his thought I find myself in agreement with. He makes sense - especially to those like myself who are convinced that there are malevolent actors manipulating the populace at every available opportunity to advance their own interests. Imperial Ambitions is likely to perpetuate the convictions of both perspectives. If you aim to blame the ills of the world on the self-interests of government, corporations and the affluent, this book is sure to be titillating.

If I was simply looking for a book to assuage my bloodthirst for those with power, I think that I would have been deeply satisfied. After all, Chomsky, in his usual form, depicts the role that those with power--whether it be political or economic--have played in the events of world history. As usual, the focus of the book is primarily on the United States of America, but Britain does not escape unscathed. While interesting and informative, I was more struck by Chomsky's discussion of propaganda and the discussion of what I will describe as "the human condition."

The following quote, I think, sums it up best:

It makes perfect sense that the public relations industry developed in the more democratic societies. If you can control people by force, it's not so important to control what they think and feel. But if you lose the capacity to control people by force, it becomes necessary to control attitudes and opinions. (22)

One can observe the subtle (and not so subtle) attempts to control our attitudes and opinions in just about every facet of life. Education, entertainment, politics, religion, ... the list goes on. What is particularly disturbing is the interconnectedness between what would otherwise appear to be separate and distinct groups. This is because there is a common source - corporations. It would appear that Chomsky holds a similar view, arguing: "Now private tyrannies--corporate systems--play the role of controlling opinions and attitudes" (22). It makes sense. After all, it is corporations that have the most to gain. Governments are merely puppets, doing the bidding of their masters. My aim is not to scaremonger, and I recognize that my first book review may establish me as a "kook" in the minds of some readers (supposing that people other than family and friends will in fact read my blog!), nevertheless it would be insincere if I did not reveal my own suspicion towards corporations. Consider the following:

• in 2003 Wal-Mart profited more than the Canadian government's tax revenue; [1]

• in 2002 General Motors was larger than the national economies of all but seven countries; [2]

• in 1998, the top 5 corporations annual revenues doubled the GDP of the 100 poorest countries; [3]

• in 2003 only 6 nations had tax revenues larger than the sales of the 9 largest MNCs; [4]

• [t]he world's 358 richest people own an aggregate fortune that is greater than the combined incomes of 2.3 billion people, or nearly 40 percent of the world's populations.[5]

It really isn't a stretch of the imagination to see that corporations exert tremendous influence over us - more than the government - and that this influence intends to cause us to act in their best interests, not our own. I have come to appreciate the Latin phrase "panem et circenses" - literally, bread and circuses. It reflects the practice of Roman emperors pacifying the populace with food and entertainment. Today this activity is largely undertaken by corporations. Of course, we like to pretend that we are in ultimate control, manipulated by no one. But is that not the sign of a truly effective propaganda machine? Is it purely coincidence that our culture is less and less intellectually stimulating, encouraging only the most basic and primitive faculties and teaching future generations that beauty and poor acting skills are the the key to succes and not rationality and critical thought? If we weren't being duped by some corporate machinery into thinking we actually like them, would anyone actually watch the horrific acting of John Travolta, Nicolas Cage or Tom Cruise? By no means do I think that food and entertainment are the only culprits. In fact, I hold some of my greatest vituperations towards two of the most powerful and deceptive institutions of our time: science and religion.

To be sure, entertainment plays a fundamental role in pacifying the populace, but it is erroneous to believe that science and religion (or one and not the other) are not involved in the web of deception. It is equally as erroneous to think that both are free of the influences of corporations. In fact, I would go as far as to suggest that both are subservient to the desires and interests of the corporate elite. Of course, I am over generalizing, as there are fractions of both the scientific and religious community that are free of such influences. I do fear, however, that these numbers are dwindling. Increasingly, science and religion are being usurped for the advancement of corporate interests. I have spent numerous years investigating what I believe are the attempts of clever religious leaders to usurp theology to promote an ideology that largely favours the upper-class and wealthy. The evidence is not hard to find - one example would be Willow Creek, a church outside of Chicago undergoing a $70 million renovation. The current campaign against gay marriage - a topic not discussed in the Christian scriptures - is another great example. If those who were against gay marriage and homosexuality were truly attempting to "honour the Bible and God", why are they not speaking out against poverty? Taking care of the poor is a consistent theme throughout the Christian scriptures, outnumbering those on homosexuality by over 3000 to, at most, a handful (a rough estimate). My newest interest is investigating how science is usurped to promote corporate interests. Tobacco companies have been particularly successful with this, but they are by no means alone. In my current research I have been exposed to numerous documents drafted by AgriBusiness executives and pundits that clearly demonstrate how science has been hijacked by corporate interests.

But I digress from Chomsky. I find myself in agreement with his assertion that there are those who have vested interests in controlling the attitudes and opinions of the populace. Where I find myself disappointed with Chomsky is in his recommendation for combating this influence. When asked by Barsamian, "How does one recognize propaganda? What are some techniques to resist it?", Chomsky simply replies: "There are no techniques, just ordinary common sense" (32). The idea that "common sense" will prevail seems to be a consistent theme in the book, and in Chomsky's thought overall. Chomsky urges for people to "[j]ust be wiling to examine what's presented to you with ordinary common sense, skeptical intelligence" (34). But what is ordinary common sense or skeptical intelligence?

If I use religious propaganda as an example, as I am far more familiar with religion than politics, I have a difficult time identifying what Chomsky calls "ordinary common sense." In fact, what most people would identify as the very thing is what has caused me such consternation in my life thus far. I am a heretic, according to some, precisely because my views and perspective are inconsistent with what they believe to be ordinary common sense. Skeptical intelligence is perhaps a more useful conception, but nevertheless remains ambiguous. Is skeptical intelligence something inherent to humanity, or must it be acquired? Does one learn it at an insitution of higher learning? I can't imagine that it would be the latter. After all, Chomsky contends that he is largely a self-educated man (176) and has harsh things to say about higher education and what he denotes as the intellectual class.

I'm left with the impression that Chomsky believes skeptical intelligence and common sense are innate. If that were the case, however, how is it that corporations and governments, through propaganda, were ever able to acquire such power? Perhaps the problem is that people have been relying on the very thing Chomsky believes will bring salvation. Is common sense not what panem et circenses was aimed at in the first place? If my belly is full and I'm entertained, everything is a-ok! Moreover, isn't propaganda aimed at altering what constitutes common sense in the first place? If indeed the propaganda machines are hard at work, wouldn't "common sense" reflect the propaganda?

Perhaps Chomsky means to suggest that we should critically engage that which is presented to us as absolute truth, analyzing and assessing it logically and with a hermeneutic of suspicion. If so, this hardly can be classified as "common sense." Moreover, it necessitates the acquisition of techniques and skills, some of which take years to master. Although it is romantic to believe that we possess such skills upon our exit from the womb, such a view is utopian. Certainly, we each are born with the potential to acquire such skills (some, of course, more than others), but part of the bread and circuses campaign is to ensure that we are sufficiently distracted if not dissuaded. This position may be overly optimistic. At risk of making myself into a pompous and arrogant elitist, is it not possible that many people are not inherently able to critically engage with the world around them? Is this not what makes propaganda so successful in the first place? Are we all being cleverly duped, or are we just not quite intelligent enough to know better?

Personally, I believe it is likely somewhere in between. As Nietzsche wrote, humanity is a rope between beast and overman. There is potential to go either way. Chomsky appears to place humanity closer to the overman, insisting that our natural faculties and common sense will be sufficient in allowing us to become creators of our own reality, overcoming our susceptibity to the world created for us by those in power. I think we are far more like the beast. And, without wanting to enrage Nietzschean scholars with my use of the Übermensch, becoming the overman is no easy task. Hence the success of bread and circuses campaigns - it is far easier to enjoy life when entertained on a full belly.

Upon completion of reading Imperial Ambitions I realize that I do not belong in the "love him" camp. Don't get me wrong, I am quite fond of some of Chomsky's arguments and find him a very informative source. However, Chomsky's perspective on the human condition suggests to me that he lacks a sufficient philosophical basis. By no means am I suggesting that I possess such a foundation, but I have exposed myself to enough philosophy to at minimum be able to identify when someone else lacks the very foundation for which I strive. This does not detract from Chomsky's arguments, but it does leave me unsatisfied with some of his interpretations and recommendations. There are other reasons for what may be described as a minor disillusionment with Chomsky. At one point of the book I found myself in disagreement with his assessment of religion. Chomsky argues: "Actually, I hate to use the world religious. Part of the reason I don't like the word is that you could make the argument that organized religion is sacreligious. It's based on very strange conceptions about the deity" (184). I'd like to go toe-to-toe with Chomsky on this one, but given that Noam isn't likely to read this blog, I'll spare you the boredom.

To conclude, I would recommend that people read Imperial Ambitions, if for no other reason than to stimulate conversation. After all, this is what I perceive to be Chomsky's intention - to encourage open and honest discussions. While Chomsky and I disagree about the inherent capabilities of humanity, I think we'd agree that, at minimum, discussing ideas is almost always a worthwhile undertaking.

In the end I have determined that I do not "love" Chomsky nor do I "hate" him. Instead, I've determined that I like Noam. Frankly, I think he'd be ok with that.

Notes:

[1] Mahmood Monshipouri, Claude E. Welch Jr. & Evan T. Kennedy, "Multinational Corporations and the Ethics of Global Responsibility: Problems and Possibilities" (2003) 25:4 Hum. Rts. Q. 965 at 971.

[2] Beth Stephens, "The Amorality of Profit: Transnational Corporations and Human Rights" (2002) 20:45 Berkeley J. Int'l L. 45 at 57.

[3] UN Committee on Trade and Development: Multinational Corporation (MNCs) in Least Developed Countries (LDCs).

[4] Monshipouri, Welch & Kennedy, note [1] at 971.

[5] Judith Blau & Alberto Moncada, Human Rights: Beyond the Liberal Vision (Toronto: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2005) at 92.

Today I Become a Blogger

So, I have become a blogger. I was encouraged by a close friend who is a devoted and popular blogger that I should shed my inhibitions and enter this mysterious world of blogging.

Who knew setting up a blog would be such an arduous task. Should I use a pseudonym? What title should I use? Do I have a focus? Should I moderate comments?

In the end I have decided to blog about books I've read. I guess this means I'll have to read some books. By no means is this site an attempt to provide traditional reviews of books - so if you're looking for material for term papers, look elsewhere. The intent here is simply to share some of my reflections and thoughts from books I've picked up.

That's it.