Notes on Social Contract Theory
When dealing with Social Contract Theory, you will no doubt encounter the standard example of the restaurant[1]. You don't sign a contract with the restaurant, but most people would consider your order and consumption of food to be sufficient evidence that you are willing to enter into an implied contract. Also, the taking of the order and delivery of the food are sufficient evidence that the restaurant is willing to enter into the same contract. Note that each controls the contract at the appropriate stage of negotiation: the customer orders only what he wants, and pays only for that (or, in the case of a cover charge, decides whether he wants to enter or not). After he orders, the restaurant decides whether or not to fill the order. This would be so whether it was on the moon, in the desert, anywhere. You nearly never have to resort to a policeman, a judge, or any other state apparatus. In fact, I would suggest that it is so automatic that people pay even when they could get away with not paying (really busy restaurants, for example). And, it seems reasonably universal.
But the decision to enter a restaurant or not, to order or not, to pay or not, are nothing like deciding to live in a country. I can choose one of several restaurants at no more cost than the time it takes to make the decision. My choice is not between a restaurant in this town or one in a location that requires me to move my family and stuff hundreds or perhaps thousands of miles away to a place that probably has a similar restaurant situation. Also, the restaurant doesn't explicitly charge me for stuff eaten by other patrons far in excess of my own bill (though they may subsidize some food at "happy hour"), nor do they tell me that my only option is to order the filet minon when I would be perfectly happy with a soda and crackers. And even if they did those things, I could choose to go next door.
Besides these arguments against the validity of the restaurant scenario as equivalent to the country scenario, we now have the bizarre situation of an analogy (the restaurant) used to justify another analogy (the social contract) used to justify an idealized version of reality (a government as contractual "fee for service" provider). Let's back up a second.
The government here is treated as an actor with which you the citizen is engaged in a market transaction. This particular market transaction is riddled with institutional failure:
- The government is a monopoly.
- It is so large that you must face a wealth of principal-agent problems - there is little likelihood that what you want and what they want are aligned, and no way for you to supervise efficiently
- Moral hazard (or opportunistic breach): when you have committed enough assets to the agreement, they unilaterally change their terms and your best option is to accept the new terms even though the transaction is less than efficient, i.e. there is a net loss
- asymmetric information - there is no way you can know if they are really providing what you contracted for
- There are externalities to the transaction, i.e. every time the government delivers to the majority, the minority is deprived of what they want
- wealth effects, where wealthier "customers" are able to negotiate better deals than everyone else
- Network effects - you and all of your associates chose this, and now *all* must leave in order for it to be worthwhile for one to leave
Now, it's fun to say, "okay, moving is expensive, but you do have a choice and the market doesn't have to produce exactly what you want in order to still be a market." True enough, but then, I always have the option of ignoring the restaurant altogether and eating at home, a choice involving neither expense not already incurred nor impossible wants. Not so with the government: I don't have the option of ignoring them with no other expenses to be incurred.
In many ways, the use of the restaurant analogy demonstrates James' rules for arguing with a libertarian (though I'd note that libertarians are not immune from these). For example, the analogy stops with comparing a non-explicit contract in a restaurant with living in a country. But what else works in analogy-space?
- I can choose any of a number of restaurants at no additional cost (the transaction costs are zero).
- I can choose not to eat at a restaurant at all.
- Restaurants' sovereignty ends at their door.
- Restaurants differentiate from each other, offering me a real choice.
- However, there are no restaurants that sell, for example, toys instead of food.
- I can choose any number of countries without incurring any transaction costs ... no, the analogy fails.
- I can choose an anarchist region ... no.
- Governments' sovereignty ends wherever they say it ends ... no.
- There are real choices between governments ... yes!
- There are no governments that aren't really governments ... yes.
2) Besides being an analogy, the social contract is inconsistently defined. The original idea was that citizens contract with one another: we will give up the right to use retributional force and some small fee in exchange for protection from criminals. The contract was between citizens, and the government was created by that act. It is more frequently asserted by modern authors that the contract is between the citizens and the government in the form of "we will pay taxes and you will give us stuff". Who is the government? And how did it acquire the bargaining position? Both questions cannot be answered with either the classical contract or the modern contract; you get the classical form for the first question, bait & switch to the modern form for the second question.
Then there is the problem of the act of making the contract: on one hand, it is asserted that some founding document (Magna Carta, Declaration of Independence, Articles of Confederation, Constitution) is the contract, an explicit contract. All fine and well, but then we face the problem of how this could be legally binding on future generations. No problem, say social contractualists, because now we shift to the implicit contract which is upheld simply by the person's presence in the sovereign territory or by some petty and symbolic act, such as pledging an oath of allegiance. Do we continue to abide by the original document? Not really, because now -- say the contractualists -- the original contract is irrelevant and outdated. Original intent is unknowable, so we must have a "living constitution" (another lovely analogy). Again, you are offered one form, which is now on one hand denied to be relevant while on the other hand asserting that every oath affirms its relevance; people substantively pledge an oath to a nonexistent contract.
What about people who would, in the world preferred by people making these arguments, not be able to enter into such agreements because they lack the ability to understand them, e.g. children, people with mental disabilities, etc.? "Too bad," comes the answer: in fact, if your parents chose citizenship for you, then you're stuck with it. "You aren't against parents deciding for their children are you?" comes the disingenuous argument from people who in fact are against parents -- or anyone else, for that matter -- deciding for themselves (after all, they have obligations to the collective under the terms of the contract). They aren't likely to take that analogy into the child's transition to adulthood, or deal with the issues of institutional failure now confronted by the child who has invested a lifetime of capital development (learning the language, culture, laws, etc.) and now has to face an opportunistic breach by the government which no longer abides by the original documents and will not give him the opportunity to renegotiate the deal.
3) So, what are your choices? We are facing a situation where you must exploit your "voice" or "exit" options. Voice, as noted by Buchanan, Tullock, and Olson (Mancur), is fraught with problems, especially in a "restaurant" the size of the US. Exit, in the form of "voting with your feet", is not the same as it means in every other circumstance, where you simply stop participating in the activity, because exit in this case means having to physically relocate to a place that has your preferred government (including "none"). Returning to the restaurant analogy, restaurants know about voice and exit and do their best to facilitate the move from other restaurants by differentiating from the others and advertising the fact, or by incorporating suggestions from their customers. Moving to another nation, even for those who can afford the expense, is at best a decision to choose between other variations on the same franchise. To the extent that this tells us something generally about governments and their benefits, this is the argument of functionalism: institutions exist because they serve a purpose.
Functionalism seems as riddled with holes. Among other things: If things exist because there is a purpose for them, how does change come about? Where do new purposes come from? Or is it possible that there are some needs that are not meant by an existing institution? Is it not therefore possible that some institutions exist without an actual need because needs go away as well as arise? Also, cannot there be a difference between purposes as stated and purposes in fact? The stated purpose for Davis-Bacon was fairness: the purpose in fact was to prevent low bidders who hired African-Americans from being able to win contracts. The stated purpose for farm subsidies is to preserve the family farm; the purpose in fact is to sustain factory farms. The stated purpose for government was to protect citizens from criminals; the purpose in fact is to facilitate behavior that might otherwise be criminal (dress it up in all of the demagoguery you want). Is it possible that an existing institution is only one possible answer to the need? And that something besides need -- say, power -- may sometimes come into play in selecting among the possible institutions? Or are we to confine our inquiries within a Panglossian functionalism?
One further aspect of this is occasionally introduced in an effort to trap the novice. That is the assertion that the "market" for nations is an ideal free market. There is no government to control the market for countries of residence. This is a transparent trick that confirms the notion of governments as organized criminal gangs who control territory by a quasi-stable mutual arrangement between the criminal gangs. But note again the reality behind the analogy: governments are not stall-keepers, each hawking his own wares to mobs of customers in search of a nation. And while there may not be an overarching government ready to supply force to dictate choice, each government is itself ready to supply that force. Restaurants are not toy stores, governments are not not-governments. The analogy uses the trick of suppressing the frame of reference to try to distract from the fact that a government is a government whether or not there is another government above it. You might as well argue that businessmen who hand over cash to strangers threatening arson are not really being extorted, they are voluntarily choosing to give money to firebugs. But that would be answering a bad analogy with another one.
4) I think there is entirely too much question begging required to support social contract theory.
- If the contract is between the state and citizens, where does the state get its right to negotiate? From the social contract? That's circular.
- If the contract is between citizens and citizens, where do they get their right to negotiate for others? And where does the state get its right to change the contract unilaterally, given that under this scheme it is the result of, not a party to, the contract?
- If the contract is an explicit one, such as the Constitution, why are we no longer honoring many of the provisions? Because there is an implicit contract? If so, how do we know what is required of either party or even who they are?
[1] See for example Steve Kanga's essay.
Labels: failure, history, philosophy, police-state, property_rights


