Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Argentina abandons legality, by law


Argentina's new Civil Code formally rejects the rule of law

     In October 2014 Cristina Kirchner's government enacted a new Civil Code replacing the one that had been in vigor since 1871. The old code was one of many magnificent legacies left by the generation that once made Argentina the 6th economy in the world. Now Argentines have decided to reject that legacy, formally, by law.
     In fact the old code had been rejected by Argentine doctrinaires long ago. Now that rejection has become a law, a new Code. This is the doctrinaires' final victory, the end of their long struggle against the principles of liberty protected by precise rules in the old code. As far back as the 1930s, coinciding with the shift of the majority of Argentine intellectuals from "old fashioned" liberalism to "modern" nationalism, statism, and interventionism, they started a relentless campaign for the abrogation of the old code. Their tactic was two-pronged: law professors promoted new imaginative interpretations of the old rules, more in line with the ideas they deemed progressive -and judges adopted them with gusto. At the same time, conscious that their constructions were highly dubious, they clamored for a new code that would truly adopt the new doctrines.
     For that reason, and during many decades, law students were introduced by their professors to a very odd scenario: they were told that a new and better code would soon replace the old one, but that such substitution would change nothing. Why? because the old rules -correctly interpreted- already coincided with those proposed to replace them.


Article 1066: old-fashioned freedom


     One of the most offensive principles in the old code was article 1066, placed at the very beginning of the code's section on torts (for non-lawyers: torts are actions against the law for which the wrong-doer has to compensate the victim, paying for the damages caused).
     Article 1066 stated that if you haven't done anything forbidden by law, then you couldn't be condemned to pay damages to anyone. That sounds pretty reasonable: if you keep yourself within the law, you are free from claims from anyone. How uncertain would you fate be it you couldn't be sure of that!
     Nevertheless, it had to go. The principle is squarely against the authoritarian statist doctrines that became fashionable in Argentina in the 1930s and still prevail.  Law professors such as Borda, Llambías, Alterini, Bueres (to mention only a few at the top of the academic pyramid) argued that it was unacceptable that the powers of judges and their desire to impose justice would be restrained merely because Congress had been slow in passing a law forbidding some action. Wouldn't it be better to allow judges the liberty to decide according to their good sense, beyond the law, and enlightened by the new doctrines about a modern society's needs?
     The reader may have noticed that this new liberty for judges means an equivalent lack of liberty for the common man.
     Following another line of attack law professors complained that it was too cumbersome to require a law in order to make something illegal, as did article 1066 of the old Civil Code. Why not a presidential decree or a regulation issued by some ministry? In the old times, before statism seized Argentina, it was thought that the president alone -much less his ministers- couldn't make something illegal thereby forcing anyone to pay damages for it. But that restriction was considered inappropriate for modern times, a relic from the 19th century, from the times of the much detested liberalism. It had to go.


An illusory safeguard against arbitrariness


     The new code was enacted in October 2014 and will rule Argentina starting in August 1, 2015 -though some judges couldn't control their excitement and began citing its provisions even before it had been approved by Congress. 
     The new code removes the hated restriction on the powers of judges: now they can condemn people to pay damages without even asserting that they had violated any law. Nevertheless, people are told that it doesn't mean that they are absolutely at the mercy of the good or bad sense of judges. There is a safeguard: an action that constitutes the exercise of a right cannot be considered a tort, and consequently cannot provide grounds for compensation. 
     That safeguard is considerably weakened by the caveat, also included in the code, that rights must be exercised according to the goals pursued by the entire legal order (including not just laws but also presidential decrees, ministerial orders, etc.). So you don't simply use your rights to pursue your own goals, you have to consider those of the legal order (whatever that may mean). This is an extension of the idea, long ago adopted by most Argentine doctrinaires, that property rights are "social functions" rather than individual rights. Now every right will be subject to the same limitation. 


The logical contradiction in the new code


     But even if we leave aside that weakening proviso about the meaning and substance of rights, the alleged safeguard involves a logical contradiction. I have written about it at length in a book (1) and in many articles in La Ley Law Review -one of the most prestigious in Argentina. To this date, no answer has been given, no way out of the contradiction has been shown.
     The contradiction is this: the new code states that one can be condemned without having violated any law, though not if one was exercising one's rights. But that may mean two very different things: 
      a) Do I need a right that I have purchased, or rented, or inherited from my parents, or that was given to me in any other way? That is called a "subjective right" in continental jurisprudence -a "title" is perhaps the closest common-law version. 
      b) Or is it enough that by "exercising a right" we mean that I do whatever isn't forbidden by law, that is, what we call "freedom"?
     The first alternative is horrible: it would mean that I could do only what is expressly granted to me. Nobody has dared to openly defend that monstrous system. 
     The second alternative is more reasonable: it means that I can do whatever is not forbidden by law without fear of any claim against my pocket. But if the new code means this, it has returned by a circuitous and confusing road to the old system: to the much reviled old fashioned notion that there can be no tort unless one does what the law forbids. 
     The answer of the new code to this fundamental question about the powers of authorities and the liberties of people is -to say the least- uncertain. The principle that guards liberty in the old code is formally rejected. Nevertheless, a limit to judicial arbitrariness is provided that involves a contradiction: it means either that the old principle has not really been rejected, or that Argentina has inadvertently adopted a monstrous system in which everything that is not expressly allowed to people is forbidden to them.
     An idle logician might argue that the new system is still based on the rule of law: precisely on the legal rule that authorizes judges to condemn people who have violated no law. But by now we should have learned the lessons taught by Hayek: the rule of law has nothing to do with the fact that some majority has enacted some arbitrary rule.


Preserving legal concepts for future generations

Criticism of the new code has been limited to the many innovations it introduces in family law and concerning the manipulation of human embryos. The Catholic Church succeeded in their opposition against some of these changes. But the population as a whole has shown no interest in these limited debates. It was the same lack of concern they showed when in 1994 the Federal Constitution was changed. Then the innovations went from new rules for elections to new governing bodies for the judiciary. Reverse discrimination was made mandatory by the Constitution itself. But why should people care? What does it have to do with soccer? 
     During most of the 20th century, too many Argentines yawned while they were deprived of liberties that other peoples defended with their lives. In this new century, the changes that weaken the rule of law have received very little attention, even by academics. Or rather, law professors and politicians have celebrated the new code as the long delayed victory of their modern doctrines. But let's be clear: these are the same doctrines that were modern when first adopted in the 1930s, when Argentina's long decay started. It is no coincidence. 
     Though at present it may seem unlikely, nobody can rule out that in one or two generations (or in ten) there would be again in this land a keen concern for the principles of freedom. At that time, Argentines will need precise concepts, non contradictory reasoning, and a knowledge of history. Law is a complex science in which errors are paid dearly. We cannot progress if we disregard what past generations have learned. People cannot invent locomotives without knowledge of the wheel. I hope I may have contributed to preserve a portion of that knowledge for the future.

(1) Ariel Emilio Barbero: La Responsabilidad Civil. Volver a los límites del Código Civil. Ed. La Ley 2001. The book dealt with a proposal which, on the issue commented in the post, was substantially similar to the one now made into a new Code. In turn, that proposal had been preceded by similar ones along the decades. 

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Argentina: ideas that erode the rule of law

Note: after the floods that affected La Plata –the city where I live– in April 2013, I have added entries to this blog at a slower pace. Moreover, I thought it very necessary to dedicate time to a number of articles in my Spanish blog about the massive changes that Cristina Kirchner's government is making on Argentine legislation.
It has occurred to me that a reader of this blog might find it surprising that so many of my articles are dedicated to political and economic doctrines, and not to legal issues. Of course, there are a good number of articles dedicated to the very notion of the rule of law and to confront its distortions. But then, shouldn't I limit the scope of my observations to law? Is this blog the proper place for discussions about moral relativism, interventionist economics, or about the true legacy of Adam Smith? How do such issues relate to the subject of the blog?
There are two reasons that have decided me to include articles that might seem unrelated to the rule of law. One is accidental, and perhaps superficial. The other is fundamental.
My job
As to the first reason, I must say that as a law clerk working for the Argentine judiciary, I should refrain from giving my opinion about cases that may have to be decided by my superiors. Strictly speaking, that restriction does not apply to the legal controversies that have a bearing on the scope and effectiveness of the rule of law. Even judges –to whom the duty of discretion is more severe than for mere helpers like me– publish now and then their views about past legal rulings –and their conclusions are not uniformly favorable. Nevertheless, it is considered unwise for them to switch too frequently between the roles of commentators and judges.
Certainly, I'am not a judge, so I am bound by good sense and moderation, but not by the stricter rules that apply to judges (which sometimes they disregard). I am a lawyer working as a drafter for the judges of the Buenos Aires Province Supreme Court (i.e. a state court, not the federal Supreme Court). Unlike most high courts in the world, those in Argentina have staffs of hundreds of lawyers in charge of drafting their rulings. This is because in each weekly seating, an Argentine Supreme Court (state or federal) may typically decide more than 100 cases, that is many more than those decided by the US federal Supreme Court in a year. In turn, this is a result of the fact that, unlike most courts in the world, Argentine high courts interpret the constitutional and legal limits to their reviewing powers as binding only for normal cases, and not for those they consider exceptional where the error the judges want to correct is –in their opinion– too evident, arbitrary and not simply mistaken. This means that the federal Supreme Court itself decides when it is bound by the constitutional clauses that limit its reviewing powers to matters concerning federal laws and when it may leave those restrictions aside.
In fact, the powers of high courts have become discretionary; they lack even any self-imposed ruling principle, as was freely admitted by Genaro Carrio, a former President of the federal Supreme Court in a book he dedicated to its extended, self-created, new jurisdiction. Certainly, such new powers mean more work, and Argentine high courts have ended up with huge teams of drafters, coordinators of such teams, and two or more levels of reviewers of drafts before they are sent to the weekly meetings. The sheer number of sentences issued by the same court and the possibilities of contradictions among them has led the federal Supreme Court to include a Coherence Office ("Sección Coherencia") within its large structure.
So, until I retire, I can deal only in general terms with issues that may be put to the decision of Argentine courts. That is the first reason why I have broadened the scope of my blog.
A deeper reason
But there is a second reason, one that goes deeper into the issue and has nothing to do with my professional situation. It is my conviction that attacks against the rule of law are seldom if ever motivated by legal technicalities, theoretical doctrines about the nature of interpretation, or about the scientific status of jurisprudence. There are always at play political and economic agendas that cannot be pursued without trampling on the rule of law. Unless one tackles that cause it is of little use to complain about the consequences.
That is why in defending the the rule of law, I don't simply confront the legal theories that distort its meaning or belittle its value –as I did in my four articles about Joseph Raz. I don't simply challenge the arguments of those who teach that ownership is a myth –as I did in my seven articles about Nagel and Murphy's book. I must also deal with the political and economic theories that move these writers to erode the value, extent, or meaning of the rule of law.
That is why, for instance, I decided to write an article about Nobel Prize winner Amartya Sen's claim that Adam Smith actually favored state intervention in the economy, education provided at not cost, and "income creation" by governments. That is why in one of my articles about Orwell, I wrote that the general ideas prevailing in a country are much more important as a basis for the rule of law than the declarations contained in constitutions. After all, though the Argentine federal Constitution bans so-called "forced loans" to the government (a wise clause that is the product of a long history of abuses) it didn't prevent the two parties that have governed Argentina for many decades from imposing "forced savings" –savings that of course have to be paid to the government and are returned later at their nominal value in a highly depreciated currency. The federal Supreme Court has always rejected the challenges raised against these laws.
That these measures have been accepted by the population without much complaint cannot be properly understood unless we take into account that, for instance, schools have been teaching Argentine youngsters for more than half a century that civil and economic liberties are unrelated, and that restrictions to the latter do not undermine the former. This is one of the lessons that I remember from my book of elementary civic education. It already looked odd to me at that time.
Certainly, the original text of the Argentine Constitution comes from a time when economic freedom was understood as a requisite for progress and indeed for liberty in general. But many decades later, in 2002, the clause in the Argentine Constitution that states that property is inviolable (art. 17: "La propiedad es inviolable...") didn't stop the government from taking the foreign currency saved by people in their bank accounts. The federal government even took the dollars that belonged to one of the provinces that compose Argentina, San Luis –other provinces had followed the advice of keeping their money safely abroad. This is as if the federal US government took Texas's money! When the federal Supreme Court ruled that such takings were unconstitutional, Congress accused the judges of having been subservient to a previous government, removed some of them and appointed new ones...who in due time ruled that everything was according to the Constitution.
I would leave to the reader the not very complex task of passing judgment on those proceedings. But I must mention the fact that in Argentina, few people saw anything noticeable in such changes; even law scholars found no reason to raise an eyebrow. A renowned professor, the late Augusto Morello, a teacher of many generations of lawyers and judges, wrote in praise of both court decisions –i.e. for and against the claims of people concerning their dollars– because regardless of the outcome, what mattered in his view was that in both cases the federal Supreme Court "delineated the torso of reality" (Morello: The Supreme Court in the Political System, p. 101).
What is surprising in these an similar examples isn't merely the nature of the government's measures, but the lack of reaction. In particular, the deafening silence of most academics is revealing of the general ideas about law, morals, and the limits of state action that prevail in Argentina. Express support like that of Professor Morello is not characteristic. Rather, it is the uncomfortable acquiescence; at most, the ironic comment followed by the assertion that all that is inevitable.
That is why I think that those of us who write about the notion of the rule of law must not restrict their comments to those instances where pernicious doctrines have led governments to trample on it, but must deal with those doctrines themselves. This is what Hayek did in The Road to Serfdom.
Moreover, in Argentina, and I suspect in the rest of South America, these doctrines frequently come ready-made from abroad. Professor Roberto Gargarella who teaches Constitutional Law at Buenos Aires University, is a promoter of the Analytic-Marxist creed of the British philosopher G. A. Cohen, and made postgraduate studies in the United States under Cass Sunstein. Argentina's most influential criminal law academic, professor Eugenio Zaffaroni –recently retired from the federal Supreme Court– is a follower of Michael Foucault, whose work he has made the dominant inspiration for scholars and policy advisers in that field. Zaffaroni was a member of the Convention of 1994 which –among many other things– incorporated positive discrimination into the federal Constitution. From their professorships in Britain, Gramscian theorists Ernesto Laclau and Chantal Mouffe provided ideological inspiration and support to the present government in Argentina. Ronald Dworkin's opinions has been cited by our highest courts in support for some of their most decisive rulings, and a book seller tells me that Spanish translations of his books sell very well among students, lawyers, and judges. On the other hand you wouldn't find a translation of any book written by Hayek (I have never seen a translation for sale; I just checked on the biggest online bookstore in Buenos Aires: no results).
       So again, if one must go to the source, one cannot stop at the local echoes and consequences of ideas. One must deal with the ideas themselves.      

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Amartya Sen rewrites the legacy of Adam Smith


Nobel Prize winner Amartya Sen distrusts free markets, wants more regulations, and calls for a global redistribution of wealth. In doing that, Sen claims that he follows Adam Smith’s lessons, which others have misunderstood. But has everyone been wrong about Adam Smith?
So that you can judge for yourself, below I have embedded two videos showing lectures by Professor Sen, those in which he deals with Adam Smith’s legacy. 
            In 2011, together with 19 other Nobel Prize winners (three of them also economists), Sen signed the Stockholm memorandum in which they announced that recurring economic crisis won’t be prevented by minor reforms and that governments will have to “reset economic incentives so that innovation is driven by wider societal interests”. In his articles and lectures Professor Sen has used the sub-prime crisis of 2008 as an example of the severe limitations of a capitalism that is not strictly controlled by regulations issued by governments. Moreover, Amartya Sen writes that world leaders should pursue a more egalitarian distribution of the benefits of economic development around the globe. In short, Professor Sen subscribes the whole agenda of interventionism, regulation, and redistribution on a global scale.
But Sen has also tried to show that his agenda was actually supported, or at least hinted, by Adam Smith, the economist that most people place among the earlier and most revered defenders of free markets. Sen has severely criticized the traditional interpretation of Adam Smith’s legacy. He sneers at those who assume that Smith’s essential message was that free markets, not restrictions, are the best path to the wealth of nations. Sen makes his audiences laugh at those simpletons who never go further than the famous lines in which Smith declared that it is not from the kindness from the butcher that we get our meat.
Professor Sen uses the authority of Adam Smith to chastise the defenders of deregulation and blames them, together with “prodigals and projectors”, for the sub-prime mortgage crisis. In his view, that came from “an implicit faith in the wisdom of the market” an idea which must not be attributed to Smith –Sen tells us–, but to those who misunderstand and misuse him. He tells us that Adam Smith was actually a promoter of public spending; for instance in education –which Sen classifies as a public good as a matter of course. From there Sen deduces that nothing in Adam Smith's thought denies that "state action must supplement the operations of the market by creating jobs and incomes (e.g., through work programs)". Sen declares that Adam Smith has for a long time been  misused and misrepresented as an unequivocal defender of free markets. He wants to put an end to it (Capitalism beyond the Crisis, New York Times Review of Books, 3/26/2009 p. 4)
I disagree. I think that, at best, Sen points out some caveats that have never been denied by his much reviled “traditional” interpretation of Adam Smith’s work. At worst, Sen distorts his legacy, and not in its details, but in its fundamentals.

                 There is a lengthy introduction, Professor Sen's lecture starts at 6.28

Misuses of The Theory of Moral Sentiments
One of the main strategies that Amartya Sen uses in rewriting Adam Smith is to interpret The Wealth of Nations in the light provided by another –earlier– book by Smith: The Theory of Moral Sentiments.[1]
Now, it should be plain, right from the very titles of the books, that they deal with different subjects. In fact Adam Smith wrote about many and very different issues: from economy to literature and jurisprudence, including a bit of the history of astronomy. Passing lightly over the differences of such issues, Sen surprises his academic audiences with citations from The Theory of Moral Sentiments that prove that Smith assigned a great weight to the sentiment of benevolence towards other human beings. Doesn’t it prove then, by words from the master himself, that the usual interpretation of The Wealth of Nations is wrong? –and to think that simpletons keep talking about self-interest and the invisible hand! Sen points out that –in analysing sentiments– Smith wrote that people are usually very concerned about the trust and good opinion that others may develop about them. Smith devotes a whole chapter to the sentiment of approbation. Surely, reading Smith’s earlier book we should have understood that trust in the economy and banks must be fostered by regulation!
Again using The Theory of Moral Sentiments in order to shed light on The Wealth of Nations, Professor Sen finds support for his idea that governments should pay attention, not merely to the point of view and interests of their citizens, but also to the opinions of people living in distant countries. Leaders should hear distant voices in order to enrich their perspective. Along the same line, Sen has often criticised John Rawls for restricting the relevant opinions to the citizens of each country. Sen finds that too limited. After all, we may ask, why should only Americans have a saying about the proper regulation of the American economy? Why not a Congolese or a Venezuelan? Why should Swedish legislators consider only the perspectives of the Swedish people?
According to Sen, all these lessons come from Adam Smith if one looks in the proper places. Certainly, in the Theory of Moral Sentiments, Smith made occasional use of the imaginary device of the impartial spectator. In evaluating our own actions and moral commitments one can consider what an impartial spectator would think of them. But we shouldn’t exaggerate the importance of the device: the spectator doesn’t really exist –no more than the Rawlsian assembly of people behind the veil of ignorance. Moreover, while an imaginary device has a central role in Rawls system, it has only a minor place in Smith’s –which is to the great advantage of the latter.
Nevertheless, Smith’s mention of the impartial spectator is used by Amartya Sen to claim that such revered thinker has hinted some support for his own suggestion about “distant voices”. Would Smith have approved the suggestion that the British government should take into account the opinions of spectators from outside its dominions? I doubt it, unless it was on the issue of foreign policy.
But Professor Sen thinks that governments should consult distant voices even when deciding domestic matters. Moreover, Sen writes that Smith’s occasional use of the impartial spectator in The Theory of the Moral Sentiments sheds light into another contemporary issue, namely: should judges take into account the views prevailing in other countries when deciding a case? Should American judges weigh the opinions of French or German courts about the death penalty when deciding a case involving the murder of an American by an American in America? Why not? If one follows Sen’s train of deductions, one will conclude that Adam Smith gave support to that too.
It baffles me to hear Sen delivering such lessons to academic audiences and to see that nobody points out to him that it is one thing to enrich one’s perspective, and another one to judge a fellow citizen according to the law of the land. There is a difference between judges and philosopher-kings. Nevertheless, in his book The Idea of Justice, Sen criticizes the US Supreme Court for refusing to take into account the opinions of judges and people living in different countries and different cultures. Why are they so close-minded? Sen writes that common Americans don’t share that limited view because they pay attention to the ideas of foreigners like Jesus, Gandhi, and Mandela. And Sen argues: “It is quite a specialized thesis to assert that while it was OK for Jefferson to be influenced by the arguments of foreigners, the ears should now be closed to arguments presented outside the United States”.[2]
Maybe Smith’s notion of the division of labor –or rather of power– could have helped Professor Sen to understand that puzzling distinction. Some people write laws, some others apply them. Leaving aside Professor Ronald Dworkin’s theories, most Americans agree with their judges that these are different tasks. Moreover, the question is misleadingly stated in terms of nationality. That isn’t the point; if a German professor writes a persuasive article about the meaning of the US Constitution, his arguments might be considered as such. Conversely, if an American born academic comes up with some good idea that he believes the Court should impose to the rest of the nation, he won’t be considered.
I wouldn’t think it necessary to assert such plain truths if it weren’t for the fact that I see that they are so easily forgotten.

Smith’s lesson restated: distrust the wisdom of the market
In almost every writer it is possible to find, along with the main ideas, peculiar opinions on special subjects, exceptions to the principles, and caveats to his recommendations. That is especially so with an author like Smith, for two reasons. First, he wrote about absolutely disparate issues: morals, fashion, jurisprudence, literature, economy, astronomy, and a host of other issues. Secondly, Smith opened the way in some of these areas. He was among the first to tread on uncultivated land. It must be expected that some of his notions are not yet fully developed and that some of the old prejudices still remain in his body of work. For instance, Smith’s theory of value was defective, and such fundamental issue would remain in that state for a century. Certainly, none of that should be used to reject the great lessons taught by Smith. There is no mechanism to separate the wheat from the chaff other than balanced judgement, but I am afraid that Sen fails in that respect.


              An introduction, then a lecture by Sen's wife Emma Rothschild. Sen starts at 37.30

The traditional understanding of Smith’s contribution –the understanding that Sen tries to debunk- is that he gave a very good answer, one that others later perfected and refined, to the question that he posed in the very title of his book, which was an inquiry into the nature and causes of the wealth of nations. Smith’s answer was that wealth doesn’t come from restrictions of trade or from laws that promote the accumulation of gold within the territory of the nation. Those were the usual answers in Smith’s time. Those were the policies of Spain, of France, and even of Britain to a large extent. In contrast, Smith pointed out in the direction of the division of labor, of markets, and of exchange –all of which required freedom. Of course governments were there enforcing contracts, punishing criminals, providing defense, and many other things besides. But, again, that is not the point. With the exception of a few modern anacho-capitalists, almost nobody denies that governments are necessary, in Smith’s time or in our time.
Besides, interventionists and promoters of redistribution aren’t criticising a future stateless world. They are trying to change this one, were there is a State, and not a small one. A market without laws, courts and the rest is a straw man that interventionists like very much to imagine and attack. But in doing so they evade the real question, which isn’t today –and never was– whether governments are needed at all, but whether governments should erect custom barriers, prevent people from opening shops and starting enterprises, tell banks what rate they should charge to customers for whom politicians feel sympathy, direct or misdirect investment, and a thousand other brilliant ideas for the use of other people’s money.
Adam Smith gave a good answer to that question –to the real question. And his answer was that restrictions of trade, regulations, and intervention caused poverty, not wealth. Which is precisely the answer that Amartya Sen rejects.
Professor Sen could enlist Smith as a supporter of his ideas only by making deductions in leaps that would astonish Olympic champions in long jump. From Adam Smith’s use of an impartial spectator (which by the way, Smith placed in each man’s heart, not in distant lands) Sen deduces that the US Supreme Court should ponder about the opinions of foreign citizens and academics in deciding a legal case. From the fact that governments “were there” performing some limited functions in Smith’s time, Sen extracts support for intervention, regulation, and redistribution at a global scale. That is the proper use of Adam Smith’s legacy in his view.
All the while, Sen laughs at those who know nothing about Smith other than the words about the interest of the butcher. But that is not the only lesson that he must dismiss. There are many others. For instance, simpletons like F.A. Hayek have also found great insight in Smith’s words:
“The stateman, who should attempt to direct private people in what manner they ought to employ their capitals, would not only load himself with a most unnecessary attention, but assume an authority which could safely be trusted, not only to no single person, but to no council or senate whatever, and which would nowhere be so dangerous as in the hands of a man who had folly and presumption enough to fancy himself fit to exercise it”.
And there is much more in the same line. For instance:
“It is the highest impertinence and presumption, therefore, in kings and ministers, to pretend to watch over the oeconomy of private people, and to restrain their expence either by sumptuary laws, or by prohibiting the importation of foreign luxuries. They are themselves always, and without any exception, the greatest spendthrifts in the society. Let them look well after their own expence, and they may safely trust private people with theirs. If their own extravagance does not ruin the state, that of their subjects never will.”
But then, apart from referring to a book that Smith wrote about a different subject, what has Sen found to support his idea that people have misunderstood Smith’s legacy? Sen cites again and again three examples he has managed to find in the whole Wealth of Nations. Nevertheless, I think that it is easy to see that two of them –when read in full context– don’t support Sen’s interpretation. The third one does: it actually shows Smith supporting intervention. But this third example is also an instance of a rare fault of judgement on Smith’s part, a kind of intervention that no modern economist would approve –perhaps not even Sen, which is a lot to say. It is impossible to reject the main body of the book on these three isolated examples.

Did Adam Smith support free education?
In his speeches and articles Sen stresses the point that Smith actually supported education at the public’s expense. But let’s follow Sen’s own advice and look at the context. In The Wealth of Nations, Smith says that division of labor, so beneficial in general, doesn’t come without some drawbacks. People forget to take responsibility for the defense of their own country. So people should learn how to use weapons as every man does in less developed societies. And there are deficiencies in basic education as well. Although the higher ranks can take care of it by themselves, it is different with poor people. Let’s see Smith’s whole argument so that we cannot be blamed of neglecting context:
“It is otherwise with the common people. They have little time to spare for education. Their parents can scarce afford to maintain them even in infancy. As soon as they are able to work, they must apply to some trade by which they can earn their subsistence. That trade too is generally so simple and uniform as to give little exercise to the understanding; while, at the same time, their labour is both so constant and so severe, that it leaves them little leisure and less inclination to apply to, or even to think of any thing else.
But though the common people cannot, in any civilized society, be so well instructed as people of some rank and fortune, the most essential parts of education, however, to read, write, and account, can be acquired at so early a period of life, that the greater part even of those who are to be bred to the lowest occupations, have time to acquire them before they can be employed in those occupations. For a very small expence the publick can facilitate, can encourage, and can even impose upon almost the whole body of the people, the necessity of acquiring those most essential parts of education. The publick can facilitate this acquisition by establishing in every parish or district a little school, where children may be taught for a reward so moderate, that even a common labourer may afford it; the master being partly, but not wholly paid by the publick; because if he was wholly, or even principally paid by it, he would soon learn to neglect his business.” p. 175 [3]
That is, in full, the passage that Sen uses in order to claim that Smith supported education at the public expense. Certainly Smith never meant that the public should pay for the education of all, including the rich. He wouldn't recommend the system that has been in use in Argentina for decades, where rich youngsters spend many years in public universities maintained by the whole nation. Nevertheless, sometimes Sen likes to quietly drop the limitation and speaks of education in general as a public service.[4]
In contrast, Smith meant basic education for the poor people who, in his time, had to send their children to work at a very early age. In our time the situation has changed greatly. But what is much more significant, even for those in such appalling conditions, Smith recommended that the costs should not be “wholly, or even principally paid” by the public. His reason is that if people have to pay for education, they will be more careful about its quality. Now, to extract from that the lesson that Adam Smith supported free education as a public service, to further build upon that example an argument for State intervention, and think it fair to scoff at the unenlightened people who miss the context in Smith’s work, is well beyond what I am prepared to accept, even from a renowned academic like Amartya Sen.
Let’s see a second example. In his article in The New Statesman, Sen writes that Smith
“was deeply concerned about the inequality and poverty that might remain in an otherwise successful market economy. Even in dealing with regulations that restrain the markets. Smith additionally acknowledged the importance of interventions on behalf of the poor and the underdogs of society. At one stage, he gives a formula of disarming simplicity: "When the regulation, therefore, is in favour of the workmen, it is always just and equitable; but it is sometimes otherwise when in favour of the masters."
Such formula would delight more than one union leader. Was Smith really recommending intervention based on that formula? Let’s see the full context. Smith writes:
“Particular acts of parliament, however, still attempt sometimes to regulate wages in particular trades and in particular places. Thus the 8th of George III. prohibits under heavy penalties all master taylors in London, and five miles round it, from giving, and their workmen from accepting, more than two shillings and seven–pence halfpenny a day, except in the case of a general mourning. Whenever the legislature attempts to regulate the differences between masters and their workmen, its counsellors are always the masters. When the regulation, therefore, is in favour of the workmen, it is always just and equitable; but it is sometimes otherwise when in favour of the masters. Thus the law which obliges the masters in several different trades to pay their workmen in money and not in goods, is quite just and equitable. It imposes no real hardship upon the masters. It only obliges them to pay that value in money, which they pretended to pay, but did not always really pay, in goods” (p. 163)
What Smith says is that, as masters were in his time the advisers of legislators, they managed to get laws imposing maximum salaries. But today we don’t have maximum salaries, we have minimum salaries. Today, employers are seldom if ever the advisers of legislators in such matters. So if we speak of Adam Smith’s legacy, we have to realize that his real message is that intervention works unfairly in favour of those who can influence legislators. It is hardly a recommendation for intervention in favour of some group or other.

A real example
Professor Sen provides a third example, this time a real one. In The Wealth of Nations Smith deals with the interest paid for loans. Certainly Smith doesn’t build a system for intervention in this area. There is no general discussion of the principles that would justify intervention in the money market. But writing about the legal ceiling for rates that was almost universal in his time (in places were interest was allowed at all), Smith recommends fixing the ceiling “but a very little above the lowest market rate”. His motive? He says that if the ceiling fixed by law –above which interest was illegal and in some countries even a crime– is rather low, very little above the lowest paid in the market, then creditors won’t be tempted to risk their money in dubious enterprises in order to get a higher interest. A low ceiling would have the effect of directing credit to “sober people”, in Smith’s words. If a higher rate is permitted, then credit would be directed to –again in Smith’s words– “prodigals and proyectors”.
Amartya Sen triumphally cites this passage of The Wealth of Nations as a proof that Smith’s legacy has been misunderstood, that he recommended regulation. Sen even draws lessons for our own time, and blames the sub-prime mortage crisis on “proyectors”.
So Sen has shown, though with a single example fished out from the whole book– that the lesson of The Wealth of Nations is that we must distrust the wisdom of free markets, and that Adam Smith actually supported government’s intervention in the economy. Thesis demonstrated: Adam Smith’s legacy has been misunderstood.
Has it? What the example of the low ceiling for interest rates shows is that Smith wasn’t free of human error. Nevertheless, The Wealth of Nations is full of examples in which Smith shows that governments’ intervention in the economy is both unfair and damaging. That applies to many areas: in page after page Smith shows how intervention fails, in foreign trade, monetary policy, salaries, the price of goods, and everything else. That, with the exception of this example which occupies less than a page, and in which Smith made a clear mistake. So the legacy of the great economist, the lesson that we have to learn from his work, must be built around this error of judgement which nobody –with the possible exception of Sen– would approve today?
To fix by law a ceiling for all interest rates is already objectionable; but to fix it very close to the lowest market rate is madness. Smith made this single mistake when treading in new territory, but we cannot be mistaken about it today. We cannot present it as an example of Smith’s wisdom and –worse– pretend to base our understanding of his legacy on it.
Let’s compare: Johannes Kepler legacy doesn’t rest on his attempt to find some geometrical relation in the distances between planets. Kepler was another genius exploring new territory. But we know that his conviction about geometrical relations was wrong. Moreover, the comparison is unfair to Smith, because Kepler’s error has a much more important role in his work than the recommendation about low rates has in Smith’s.

Should Bentham’s letter to Smith be laugh at?
Professor Sen finds it amusing that Jeremy Bentham tried to convince Smith that he was wrong in recommending a very low ceiling for rates. Figure that! Bentham, a philosopher with a modest knowledge of economy –says Sen– trying to teach economics to Smith, who was perhaps the greatest economist of all ages. How ridiculous.
In his letter Bentham defended the “proyectors” who Smith had snubbed. Bentham said that a low maximum rate won’t distinguish between good and bad among the new projects. He added that all well established enterprises have been at the beginning uncertain endeavours. Bentham even cited Smith’s arguments in order to convince him; for instance, he said that Smith’s had rightly asserted that people often exaggerate the importance of bankruptcies: After all our complaints of the frequency of bankruptcies, the unhappy men who fall into this misfortune make but a very small part of the whole number engaged in trade, and all other sorts of business; not much more perhaps than one in a thousand. And Bentham argued further that even if it were true that all untried projects and new machines must fail, they would have opened the path to others who will succeed. He concluded saying that if all new and uncertain projects had ever been abandoned in favour of the well known ways, men would still be shivering in caves.
Can Bentham’s arguments be dismissed simply by scoffing at the attempts of an amateur?

Rewriting the past
In the classic film La belle de Moscou an American man says to a Russian apparatchik: we don’t change the past, only the future (I am citing from memory, I love that line).
But why is that some try to debunk the usual understanding about one of the earliest defenders of free markets? Why does it matter today whether Adam Smith really supported public financed education, whether he provided a simple policy maxim in favour of labor and against employers, or whether his legacy can be better assessed by recalling his advice about a very low ceiling for interest?
Friedrich Hayek explained why. He wrote in The Road to Serfdom that the doctrines of intervention and redistribution can be made more palatable if we get convinced that they are simply our own traditional ideas about liberty and progress, only that we have failed to grasp them correctly.





[1] The Economic Manifesto, article by Amartya Sen in New Statesman. Sen writes: “since the ideas presented in The Wealth of Nations have been interpreted largely without reference to the framework already developed in Moral Sentiments (on which Smith draws substantially in the later book), the typical understanding of The Wealth of Nations has been constrained, to the detriment of economics as a subject.” Constrained? Yes, and rightly so. Constrained to what is relevant to the issue of economics.
[2] Amartya Sen: The idea of Justice. Belknap Harvard 2009, p. 406.
[3] The Wealth of Nations. Link to book vol. II. The complete works of Adam Smith can be read or downloaded for free from the same site. I cite the pages according to the pagination in the pdf document.
[4] Amartya Sen: Capitalism beyond the crisis. New York Review ofBooks, March 26 2009.