Monday, November 25, 2013

An Appetite for Democracy



For better or, yes, worse, Mayor Rob Ford is a product of — and subject to — the democracy we cherish

By
I've spoken with countless people over the past week or so excited about the recent Rob Ford revelations — crack smoking; allegations of gang connections; extortion allegations and the general debasement of basic civics at Toronto City Hall, just to name a few.
Again and again, people asked me the same question: "How could a guy like that get elected?"
Indeed, I had to ask myself that question — could it simply be that we've all been drinking the democratic Kool-Aid? Maybe democracy isn't all it's cracked (excuse the pun) up to be.
In western liberal democracies like Canada, we simply assume that democracy is the best form of government. But is it — and if so, why? We assume, for instance, that when set against a background of essentially fair preconditions ("a level playing field"), the aggregate choices of rational agents must always lead to the best possible outcome. In the marketplace, our choices, and the pressures these exert, regularly lead to the invention of better washing machines, tastier coffees and niftier cars, and there's little doubt that that's a good thing.

Upon reflection then, and given all of human history, it — democracy — is actually a rather remarkable feat we’ve pulled off. Even today the greater balance of the globe doesn’t have what we’ve got.

But sometimes the Big Macs of politics get elected and we find ourselves with, for example, Rob Ford as mayor, or George W. Bush as the leader of the free world. Disaster ensues.
What went wrong? If, like coronaries from unhealthy burgers, unrepentant and selfish politicians are not, on the whole, the best of all possible outcomes, then why do we persist in touting democracy as the best form of political organization? Could we be wrong?
In short, no, we're not wrong — or not exactly, anyway. But I think the outcome (good or bad) of the whole process is really beside the point, so perhaps I should explain.
Clearly, the democratic process isn't the greatest way of picking the best among us. Maybe a test would be better. George W. Bush would never have been elected if there had been a series of skill-testing questions to answer, and I think it's safe to say Rob Ford would have flunked such a test too. After all, neither one was a Philosopher King, and "virtue" is not a word we typically associate with their names. But, at the end of the day both of these men were the guys regular folks believed they could sit down and have a beer with — and that's exactly what the market delivered.
So what is it, then, that we prize so much about the democratic process? In two words: freedom and accountability.
Despite our collective lamentations about Rob Ford's criminal and base-behaviour, he was our (the royal "our" — not me!) choice. No czar or central committee of The Party picked Ford for us to falsely swoon over; no one ever proclaimed him a living god. For better or (obviously) worse, Ford rose through the ranks of municipal politics, held himself out for public display, and let the voters decide.
As for accountability — well, we've got that, too. For starters, Ford is subject to the law, just like the rest of the guys and gals who voted him in to office. Then there are councils, which are empowered by us to create rules and regulations, and in Toronto's case are using those powers now to curb Mayor Ford's. And, finally, there's always next year when the mayor's job will be back on the auction block — sold to whoever secures the most votes.
Upon reflection then, and given all of human history, it — democracy — is actually a rather remarkable feat we've pulled off. Even today the greater balance of the globe doesn't have what we've got. It's not open, for instance, to a Chinese person — any one of the one billion individuals who populate that country — to openly question his or her leader.
Nor is it possible for the small village boy, or girl, to reasonably dream of one-day leading his or her fellow Zimbabweans to a brighter future. Forget glass ceilings and wheelchair access — for the vast majority of our numbers on Earth, there isn't even a door.
So Jimmy Kimmel, John Stewart and Jay Leno are having their fun with Mayor Rob Ford — goodness knows we had ours when Bush was in power. These guys, and sometimes gals (remember Sarah Palin?), get elected and to me that's quite all right. Democracy might not be what it's cracked up to be, but it sure beats the alternative.
Next time though, let's just make sure we order the Quarter Pounder.
T. David Marshall is a lawyer practising in Hamilton. He is also a vegetarian. No animals were eaten during the writing of this article.


http://www.thespec.com/opinion-story/4232737-an-appetite-for-democracy/

Thursday, November 21, 2013

Dr. Justice T. David MARSHALL


MARSHALL, Dr. Justice T. David
 
In memoriam Died November 20, 2009

Even at our greatest, one must, upon reflection, be humbled by the utter insignificance of our individual lives. At best, we merit a fleeting reference here, or a bookmark there. Each of us is but a drop in the veritable ocean that is mankind. We are born to die; to give birth; to let loose our grasp in favour of those to come. Our brief day begets a long night to come.
 
And still, individuals, like drops, count - the whole is nothing without its parts. Perhaps, then, and in the final analysis, this is the most any of us should dare to dream - to be remembered fondly, if at all, by those who shared with us our brief moments in the sun. To ask for more, surely, would be to ask for too much. 
 
T. David Marshall is loved and fondly remembered by Jill Marshall, his children Jillian, Julie,
Albert, Thomas, David Jr., by their families and his friends.
 
T. David Marshall, Jr. 2013
 

Wednesday, May 8, 2013

Fact: Religion is not Reasonable - Promoting Unreason (faith) has its Consequences

Science is not a "thing," a doctrine or a set of beliefs — it is a mode of thinking and method of inquiry. There is no Book. Once this concept is grasped, the errors in reasoning committed by the writer of the May 3 letter to the editor entitled Muddying the Waters ought to become obvious. But, because an understanding of these errors will, invariably, continue to elude some, I fear it necessary to bring more to bear upon the subject.

There is an unsettling fact I think most religiously inclined readers will be loath to accept: Religion is not reasonable.

I mean this in the most analytical sense, of course, in that religious belief is not based upon reason, but upon authority. The claims to "Truth" by Jesus or Mohammad rest entirely upon the basis of their assertions to have been (in the case of Jesus) the son of God, or (in the case of Mohammad) to have communed with God through an intermediary: These are not reasons — these are simply further claims.

This is precisely why such doctrines are called "faiths." It takes an active willingness to suspend one's otherwise critical faculties in order to believe — on the basis of no evidence — that the claims proffered by such men are true. This is, incidentally, the very definition of irrational behaviour.                       
 
Science, however, is unlike religion. The only basis for its claims is that they are reasonable — that is, reason-based. Our belief in the accuracy of the statement "the Earth goes round the sun" is not premised upon who utters the statement, but upon what reasons we are given for believing it to be so.

There is, in this sense (and contrary to the assertions of the writer), no falsity to the dichotomy proffered by Scott Thompson in his April 30 column on the Comment page entitled Terror in the Name of God. Reason, and the application of reason to the discovery of truths about our world (a process we commonly call "science" or "scientific"), really is on one side of the equation, while superstition and unreason really are on the other.

The question posed by Thompson as to whether those who support and promote an unreasonable view of the world ought to be, in some way, held accountable for the actions of followers who take religious texts seriously, is a pressing one.

Apologists for religion, such as the writer, want everyone to believe that it's simply the work of a few extremists — a few bad apples — who bring a measure of disrepute to religion.

But this, surely, is a faulty, ahistoric and myopic view that betrays a certain naiveté about the true nature and effect of religion (as systems of irrational beliefs) upon the minds of otherwise morally decent people.

Religious observance — which is simply another way of saying "a dogmatic and unreflective fidelity to the dictates of an authority that demands obedience" — really is linked to the 9/11 attacks, the Boston bombings, the denial of condoms to AIDS-ravaged sub-Saharan African communities, the genital mutilation of girls (and boys), and to the deaths and enslavement of millions in a way that a mode of thinking or method of inquiry can never be.

I grant without reservation, of course, that for the majority of followers, faith has not entirely dulled their moral faculties. Despite, for example, the Koran's (and the Bible's) ringing endorsement of such inhuman practices as slavery, misogyny, xenophobia, homophobia and murder, most religiously inclined folks have found a way to navigate around these less-noble parts of their faith in order to act decently toward others. But this feat has always been achieved in spite of religion, not because of it.

In this respect then, it should come as no surprise that those who are attracted to unreasonable claims in the first place will include highly unreasonable people who are utterly incapable of reasoning their way out of their faith's commandments to, for example, murder infidels, subjugate women or kill homosexuals.

And so, contrary to the writer's assertion that all faiths should get a free pass, I would suggest that any system of unreasonable claims — whose leaders actively recruit and retain people who are themselves apt to believe such things — ought to share some of the blame when things go, as it were, entirely by the Book.

Thankfully, for reason and science, there is no such Book — and so far as I know, no downside to being "extremely" reasonable.


T. David Marshall is a lawyer and former lecturer in ethics and lives in Cayuga.

Available at: http://www.thespec.com/opinion-story/2555864-fact-faith-is-not-reasonable/
See also http://www.thespec.com/opinion-story/2257233-didn-t-galileo-show-us-truth-is-not-found-in-authority-and-obedience-/
Follow on Twitter: https://twitter.com/TDavidMarshall

Wednesday, January 30, 2013

'Fiscal Impact’ vs. Individual Autonomy


The bottom line doesn’t justify government regulation of our private selves

To the extent that the writer of the article entitled “Healthy choices and John Stuart Mill,” (Comment page, Jan. 24) was encouraging Canadians to become more healthful, one can hardly find fault with his opinion. Good health is a laudable goal, no doubt.

But there is something deeply wrong with the balance of this writer’s thesis, which suggests nothing less than the total disintegration of any discernible boundary between our public and private selves. Of this, I believe, something should be said.

The idea this writer promotes — that the public administration of societal goods warrants government regulation of the details of our lives, so long as our life choices have “prejudicial” fiscal impacts on “the system” — is at the very least, a very bad one. Even he could not help but point out a couple of the systemic reasons why we, as a society, might balk at (for instance) taxing people with high blood pressure.

But his reasons (he cited bureaucratic bloat and cost) were largely unimaginative and failed to adequately capture what I think is the core reason why most Canadians would, upon reflection, reject his thesis.

I will start with an uncontroversial claim: Each of us inhabits both a public and private sphere.

If I am brushing my teeth I am likely to say, in that instant, that I inhabit the private sphere of my life as an individual only. No one is watching me, nor would I expect or want someone to be. I am a citizen in that instant too, of course, but the defining characteristics and obligations associated with that role, (as a citizen), I am apt to think, will play little part in how I go about the task.
Conversely, if I am a member of a jury, I am likely to admit, in that instant, I inhabit the public sphere of my life. In that role, the responsibilities and duties I bear as a citizen will determine, in large part, the choices open to me. It would be improper — and it would be an abdication of my duties — to choose to brush my teeth during the trial, for example.

How we define this boundary between our public and private selves — and the corresponding obligations and freedoms these roles necessarily entail — is, therefore, of vital importance in determining what we owe and what we are due. But upon what principles do we determine one thing to be public and the other private?

If the writer’s thesis were left to stand, our public responsibilities and private freedoms would be determined by the quotient of “fiscal impact.” As he would have it, if “my life choices end up costing the community” money, then these choices — be they about my body or the things I might put into my body — are fit for public regulation. This, I think, is an unacceptable way of distinguishing the public from the private.

In part, it is unacceptable because it is under-inclusive. The quotient of “fiscal impact” does not, in any meaningful way, capture the myriad of reasons we are likely to cite in support of a just division between our public and private spheres.

When one chooses, for example, to become vegetarian or to start taking the stairs, one is unlikely to see these decisions as being informed by considerations of the fiscal impacts or benefits that might accrue to society. Rather, one is likely to view these decisions, and one’s ability to choose for ones’ self, as matters of personal autonomy and individuality.

Thus, respecting the autonomy and individuality of others — as a correlative to the claim each of us makes for ourselves — is at the core of our deliberations when determining the proper division between our public and private selves. This core aspect, however, is lost when we give primacy to the quotient of fiscal impact.

It is tempting, of course, to view our obligations in purely economic terms. It makes determining what we owe each other — and what we are due — as easy as pulling out a calculator.

But to do so is to obscure, and diminish, what it means to be fully human. Our fellow citizens are not simply debits and credits — they are individuals deserving of respect. And to respect anything less — the taxpayer or the bottom line only, for example — is to fail to pay heed to what really matters: our humanity.
T. David Marshall is a lawyer practising in Hamilton

http://www.thespec.com/opinion/columns/article/877586---fiscal-impact-vs-individual-autonomy