That Levin wrote this book now demonstrates not his passion for the United States, but his awareness that he is a statesman defending natural law at a pivotal moment in human history: the United States in decline represents a far different thing than the failure of Europe’s utopianism. The key lies in recognizing John Locke’s accomplishment for what it objectively is, which Levin does with Part Two of Ameritopia. John Locke’s Second Treatise is properly understood as the “black monolith” moment for human history.
Utopian thinking has never represented brilliance or historical greatness; if it did, there wouldn’t be utopians in every age and nation and we wouldn’t be littered with the evidence of their perfect failure rate. Utopianism instead represents the simplest of philosophical thinking: trying to make survival easier not with innovation but with brute force. Indeed, a defining characteristic of utopian thought is neglect of the math and economics of the idea — details for the philosopher class to hammer out later while the leader poses for portraits.
But Locke is different — there is only one Locke. His recognition of natural law did not occur soon after man had the time to think, but 9700 years later; much trial and error of society came before his discovery. Which is: man feels violated if he is to lose his life to another, or if he has his liberty or property taken, and no system of laws can prevent that emotion or halt actions taken because of it. Therefore laws cannot be arbitrarily chosen by men, but must exist only to defend the rights of the individual. Under this we necessarily thrive, otherwise we are doomed.
Utopians have always otherwise been in the position of trying to replace a tyrannical system. But now, post-Locke and de Montesquieu and the Founders, the utopians are in a position of destroying that pivotal discovery, which presently exists nowhere else on Earth or in time but in the U.S. Constitution. Levin, with Ameritopia, shows that he recognizes this urgency: he is criticized for his “anger” on the air — how do you keep your voice down once you understand what is presently being threatened?
If you’re going to purchase the book, I hope you’ll do it here.
The blue social model can’t produce great results anymore. If you want to think big, you can no longer think blue. This is Governor Brown’s problem in a nutshell. The political coalition that backs him cannot produce coherent and workable plans anymore. The greens, the unions, the planning bureaucrats, the mayors and so forth each bring so many requirements to the table that the only designs that make them all happy are so cumbersome and expensive that they cannot be built. The political imagination of the blue coalition can no longer visualize the future: it can only project its nostalgia ahead.
Jerry Brown is stuck in the sixties. What a tragedy that the Republicans can’t put up decent statewide candidates in California. And I very much fear that Mitt Romney will be Meg Whitman on a national scale.
It’s infuriating that Romney is being attacked from the left by supposed conservatives, while ignoring all of the legitimate attacks that could be made on him in the name of actual conservatism.
Want to see what America would look like without private equity? Move to Detroit and contemplate the ruins of a city ruined by the placid conformity of auto industry executives. The economic impact of the corporate takeover business can’t be measured by the outcome of takeovers as such. Private equity transformed the way American business thought about the world. If managers did a lousy job, outside investors could raise money (a lot of it from trade union pension funds as well as university endowments) and kick them out.
Newt Gingrich and Rick Perry should be ashamed of themselves for bean-counting Bain Capital’s record on job creation. Any investment firm operating over decades of rapid employment growth will be able to show that the companies it bought added jobs over time. That’s what the academic studies on private equity show in any event, as Jordan Weissmann reports at The Atlantic. More relevant is the alternative. We’ve been there, done that, and don’t want to do it again. Corporate America in the 1950s and 1960s coasted on the postwar monopoly enjoyed by American companies after the destruction of European and Japanese industries. Detroit in the late 1960s had African-American neighborhoods stretching for miles with well-kept single-family homes and manicured lawns; by the end of the 1970s it had turned into a moonscape. The rust belt still hasn’t recovered from the laziness of American capital a generation ago.
Private equity takes money from institutional investors who otherwise would passively invest in public securities, and gives them the chance to exercise direct ownership of companies whose management fails to exploit their potential. It creates competition where no competition existed before. As in every business, there are ten wannabees for every visionary. A lot of the success of private equity derives from the fact that equity values rose steadily from1983 through 2000, and anyone who had a chance to own equity with borrowed money did exceptionally well. One can argue that many of the players who got rich during the boom years simply rode the big wave. (Bain Capital, though, was one of the first in, and throughout one of the smartest, and one of the least reckless about using excess leverage.)
You don’t create long-lasting jobs, or wealth by continually misallocating resources.
John Bryson cheers when your energy prices go up. So does Stephen Breyer. Bryson has been screwing Californians this way for decades, and he’s proud of it. And the Senate approved him.
