(This review appears in the December/January issue
of The American Spectator.)
The Encyclopedia of Libertarianism, edited by Ronald
Hamowy (Sage, 664 pages, $125).
WHAT IS LIBERTARIANISM, and who, exactly, counts as a
libertarian? For years, anarcho-capitalists, minarchists,
teenyarchists, Randroids, and assorted laissez-faire true believers
have fought pitched battles over these vexing questions of ideology
and identity. Now they have a whole foot-breaking reference book to
help remind them of those old, tender memories.
The Encyclopedia of Libertarianism (The
Encyclopedia hereafter) doesn’t seek to give definitive
answers where none exist. In fact, there isn't a single entry
marked “Libertarianism” to consult. Readers will just have to make
do with entries on the “Liberal Critique of Libertarianism”;
“Liberalism, Classical”; “Liberalism, German”; “Liberty,
Presumption of”; “Liberty in the Ancient World”; and “Locke, John”;
as well as the General Introduction.
At first pass, that seems a glaring omission. It’s hard to
imagine encyclopedias of conservatism, fascism, feminism, or
Buddhism that didn’t contain entries on… conservatism, fascism,
feminism, or Buddhism. Especially as The Encyclopedia has
entries on three of those four topics--four entries total when you
add in “Conservative Critique of Libertarianism.” Why not just come
out and say what libertarianism is, gentlemen?
The General Introduction asks, “In what does libertarianism
consist?” and answers, “This question is much more difficult and
profound than one might at first suppose.” Difficult, maybe, but
profound seems a bit of a pat on the back. Writing for the editors,
Manchester Metropolitan University’s Stephen Davies lays out five
different ways that one could analyze the “major
ideologies of modernity” and dances around a concrete definition of
libertarianism. My guess is, a workable consensus definition
couldn’t be found. What’s that old Jewish saying? Four
libertarians, five opinions.
However, the Introduction does tell us that libertarianism is
big--huge! It is “a major feature of intellectual and political
life… at one and the same time a movement in politics, a recognized
philosophy, and a set of distinctive policy prescriptions” whose
adherents “play a prominent role in intellectual and political
arguments in several countries.” Rarely a winning role,
however. In Washington, D.C., recently, you could be near certain
that any policy wonk charging valiantly but futilely against the
massive government bailout was either a cranky conservative or an
understandably angry libertarian.
Despite its recent emergence as a popular term, libertarianism
is no Milton-come-lately ideology either, argues Professor Davies:
“Contemporary libertarianism is only the latest manifestation of an
intellectual, cultural, and political phenomenon that is as old as
modernity, if not older.… [It] is only the most recent chapter in a
long story that, in the Anglo-Saxon world, traces itself back to
classical liberalism.” Before there was the American Constitution,
there was An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth
of Nations, or The Bling of Nations, as kids tend to
shorten it these days (see “Smith, Adam”).
Of course, not all libertarians will agree about that. Some
radical libertarians see many of the towering figures of classical
liberalism as tainted or not hard-core enough. The entry on the
economist and agitator Murray Rothbard--by freewheeling libertarian
historian Brian Doherty--correctly notes that Rothbard believed
“even such free-market icons as Adam Smith represented regressions
from largely forgotten previous advances in economic thinking.”
We could dismiss the radicals as freedom’s bitter enders but
this reviewer happens to think they’re on to something when they
posit a gulf between classical liberals and modern libertarians.
For its special Millennium issue in 1999, a writer for the
classical liberal British newsweekly the Economist
pretended to review The Wealth of Nations as if it were
the year 1776 and this were the hot “new book… winning praise from
every quarter.”
Despite all of Smith’s “strictures about the dangers of
governments acting in league with producers,” the
Economist reminded, “he proposes an enormous extension of
the role of the state,” including “universal education, at public
expense,” something like antitrust law, and “roads, canals, bridges
and other works necessary for universal opulence but too costly to
be undertaken at private expense.” The reviewer predicted that “Mr.
Smith’s book” may be remembered, in the long run, “for laying the
intellectual foundations of, for want of a better term, big
government.”
ONE MIGHT APOLOGIZE for the digression at this point, and
normally I would. Except, except. This is exactly the sort of
rabbit-trailing The Encyclopedia encourages. The volume
can be used as a straight reference, but it’s at least as valuable
as an intellectual curiosity. It’s a product of the Cato Institute,
that Beltway beachhead for sober free market thinking. However, it
is intended to be broadly representative of libertarian thought and
history. It usually succeeds at hitting that target.
Most major libertarian figures are included here, if grudgingly.
During the recent Republican primaries, cosmopolitan Catoistas were
known for their hostility to former Libertarian Party nominee and
antiwar candidate Ron Paul, because of his more populist positions
on immigration and social issues. Paul’s entry in The
Encyclopedia by Cato executive vice president David Boaz is
all of seven column inches (a typical page has 18 column inches),
but it’s here--along with 546 pages full of entries on everything
from the common law to the revolution in France to Puritanism to
the accomplishments of Swedish economist Knut Wicksell.
This book will appeal to libertarians of all stripes, of course,
and intellectual history buffs, as well as to anyone who has ever
wondered, “I wonder what libertarians would think about X,” or even
“Why would libertarians think that?” Though if you have,
my friends, let me just warn you: it’s a slippery slope.
(This review appears in the December/January issue
of The American Spectator.)
