Matt’s Marvelous Mailbag seeks to provide marginally adequate answers to much better questions about politics, economics, social life, theology, or any potpourri you see fit to have answered. Send questions to mailbag.bereans@gmail.com.  

Well, summer is just about underway for me. Grad classes are ending, the sun is shining longer, and the festivities are beginning once again. Oh yeah, and the graduations and weddings we all knew about weeks and months ago are upon us, like it or not. But hey, free food? It’s not like I’m going to complain about that. Some weeks, there’s so much going on, my grocery list has literally consisted of bread and milk. Ah, summer. Let’s start it off right with the mailbag, shall we?

Q: Marcus Aurelius asks: “What is the difference between libertarianism and anarchism? I used to think there was a distinction but more and more I’m starting to think libertarians are all just closeted anarchists.”

A: This question essentially rides on how you define your terms, which is an admittedly difficult proposition. One of the benefits of having religious debates is that it’s much easier to clarify where people generally stand on the order of broad principles. Christians pretty well have to believe and accept the Resurrection of Christ, Muslims clearly follow the teachings of Mohammad, Jews have the Torah and a set of practices, etc. Even within a religion, divying up individuals can be easier than with politics: Catholic and Protestant, Shia and Sunni, Orthodox and Reformed. That doesn’t work quite as neatly in politics, in no small part because the terms evolve more often and quickly than religious categorizations. More than that, an American conservative is hardly the same as a European conservative or an Asian conservative, just to show the difficulties one can run into on this question.

With that being said, I think Russell Kirk was on to something in one of his essays when he drew the dividing line around the idea of a transcendent moral order. Essentially, where do you place yourself? Are you the end of all things or do you serve a higher order? How you answer that question, for Kirk, helps to sort out where you land on the conservative vs. libertarian debate. For Kirk, a lot of people who call themselves ‘libertarians’ (or a moniker I used to accept — ‘libertarian conservative’) are really just conservatives with less penchant for government interference. Moreover, once you start to look at some of the chief men and women claimed by the libertarian movement (Ayn Rand, Lysander Spooner, Murray Rothbard), ‘libertarian’ starts to sound increasingly like a code word for ‘anarchist.’ Most people probably won’t care to make such a distinction, but as you move up the academic ladder, the issue practically forces itself on you. As one of my fellow Bereans once said in class, “I have a resilient libertarian bone in me that I regularly attempt to kill with prayer and fasting.”

To put a bow on it, I doubt all libertarians would term themselves ‘anarchists,’ but the further you dig into traditionally libertarian (how’s that for an oxymoron?) materials, the more you’ll see anarchy rear its head. All things considered, that’s probably why Kirk concluded that, except for temporary agreements on certain issues, “…Conservatives and libertarians can conclude no friendly pact.”  

Q: Marcus also asks: “Where do you fall on the spectrum between Presbyterian minimalism and Catholic inclination towards the ornate? Which way do you lean between iconoclasm and relic veneration? You can take this in a religious or other context as you choose.

A: I possess the ordered adoration for the disorderly, an admirable abhorrence for the unabhorrable, an impassioned apathy for the tedium, a….kidding, kidding. I actually have a coherent take.

I go back and forth on this an awful lot, but I suspect, in a war of attrition between the two, my heart would go the victorious ornate at the end of it. Part of the reason, I think, is due to the skill that is required for the ornate, not to say that minimalism requires no skill, but I think a fair case can be made that Notre Dame is not only a more striking and awesome creation than a minimalist structure but also required immeasurably more skill. The other thing that draws me to the ornate is that it conjures a sense of magnitude, order, and proportion. About a year and half ago, I took a tour of Europe, and one day we went to the cathedral in Rouen, France. If you’ve never been to it, it’s difficult to capture the exact sentiments of going there. It compelled me to reverence and reflection, to a degree that minimalism cannot compete with. Elsewhere in the mailbag, I have mentioned my regular attendance at a church that is more liturgical in style, which is another example of how the ornate and the venerated all too naturally lead one to a right sense of place. In a culture that is increasingly iconoclastic and facetious to the point of flippancy, veneration becomes an increasingly valuable commodity.

I will throw a bone to the minimalists, however. The Lord’s Supper (Eucharist for our Catholic chums) is a beautiful example of minimalism done right. When you come to the table in Christ, there is no rank or race or socioeconomic status or power dynamic or anything else. There are merely the eternal bonds of brothers and sisters in Christ come together for the unity of heaven and earth. That kind of minimalism I will absolutely get behind.

Q: Kilroy asks: “What are your favorite movies?”

A: Kind of surprised this is the first time this question has popped up, but firsts are always welcome here. My personal favorite of all time is Shawshank Redemption for a couple of reasons. The acting, of course, is excellent, the story is compelling, the twist at the end is legitimately pleasing and unexpected, and it packs a sizable amount of quality and quantity into its run time. Moreover, Shawshank blew me away the first time I watched, and I think it instantly hit #1 on my all-time favorites list. That fact alone is telling, and it’s a testament to the film’s sublimity.

But, almost imperceptibly behind Shawshank, I have to go with Casablanca for three reasons apart from the excellent acting and production. First, it is Hollywood’s definitive statement on love and romance, and that statement is admirably noble in tone. Bravery, selflessness, sacrifice, camaraderie, and devotion to a higher calling are not just elements of Casablanca; they define it. Second, there are few movies as quotable as Casablanca. Just watch the movie, and you’ll realize pretty quickly that you’ve heard many of the lines before. There’s a reason for that; it has some brilliant, timeless lines. Third, it is perpetually rewatchable. Most movies lose a lot of value after the first viewing but not Casablanca. I thought it was good the first time I watched it, but, in subsequent viewings, I’ve fallen deeper and deeper in love with this film. It is timeless, charming, and deserving of every accolade one can shower upon it.

As for some other gems, in no particular order:

• Dr. Strangelove is a comedy classic that takes multiple viewings to fully appreciate.
• Death of Stalin is also deeply layered and riotously funny.
• La La Land is just magical and charming; you’ll have the music bug for days.
• Whiplash is the dark cousin of La La Land, a more striking and gripping film with a better plot but far less fun.
• 12 Angry Men is the easiest pick for maximizing a minimal set.
• There Will Be Blood is my gritty standard bearer.
• The Shining is horror done right.
• And I will always go for a Coen brothers or Tarantino film.

Q: Madison asks: “Are you an extrovert or an introvert?”

A: Cautiously extroverted. In short, you will be sized up before I open up, but I try to be amiable with all. At times, I’ve tried convincing myself I’m a closeted introvert, but a few hours’ solitude tends to banish that illusion.

Q: Garth asks: “Who’s your updated favorite for the Democratic nomination?”

A: Well…..I know I said Biden had missed his chance, but I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if his poll results aren’t impressive right now. Yes, we are WAAAAAY too far out to conclude anything concrete, but I didn’t expect him to take off like this. You know who’s really struggling that I didn’t expect to? Our happy, bouncing, table-hopping friend Beto O’Rourke. He’s actually doing a “reintroduction” soon, whatever that means, just to try regaining some momentum. So, if you like campaign launch parties, you lucky ducks will get to double-dip with him. Congratulations; hope it tastes better the second time around.

A Final Reflection:

If you’ve ever studied economics, you’ve probably heard humans described as fundamentally ‘selfish’ or ‘self-interested.’ Most people would probably agree that this is a part of human nature, but I suspect many would revolt at that as the prime descriptor. From an economic point of view, however, this does make sense. We remember from Adam Smith that it’s not out of benevolence that we see most economic progress but from our own pursuits. Most people don’t innovate for charity’s sake; they expect some monetary reward for their troubles. So, as far as the descriptor remains descriptive, the economists are on the right track.

The great question lies in the rightness or perhaps properness of this proclivity. Should we be fundamentally self-interested? A Randian philosopher would certainly say yes; a Kirkian conservative would probably say no. For what it’s worth, I think there’s probably some truth to both camps, but it begs the question of what a world of others-centered, selfless individuals would look like. For Christians, Jesus is hopefully coming to mind right about now along with his admonitions to us to follow in his example, but there’s a joke that comes with that. Even at our best in this world, we are still fallen and living among other fallen beings. As such, that world of others-centered, selfless individuals is not for the present and trying to govern as such is just another example of…you guessed it…immanentizing the eschaton.

This is why the institutions of separate, checked powers and market-based competition are so important. The age to come is overflowing with generosity and selfless love; the present age is self-interested, and it does no good to pretend otherwise. Markets generally reward self-interest that leads to both societal and personal gain; to get personal gain, one must provide a benefit to others. Centralization generally rewards self-interest that leads only to personal gain; to get personal gain, one must only hold the means of distribution. The self-interest and power-seeking, for now, are givens; the only question for this age is how we structure our institutions.