Perhaps the most common objection to libertarianism is that it doesn’t allow the state to redistribute resources to those in need. Of course, some libertarians (or classical liberals) such as F.A. Hayek and Milton Friedman do endorse a social safety net. But setting aside those sorts of cases, why would a reasonable person oppose redistribution from the rich to the poor? As I see it, there are three main libertarian answers. This post will explore this first one, what I’ll call the response of the hardline deontologist (think Robert Nozick).
According to these libertarians, the rich have a duty to transfer at least some of their excess property to the poor, but the duty is not enforceable. As a general point, there are plenty of actions you’re obligated to perform but that others may not force you to perform. If your mother’s dying wish is to spend her final hours with you but you spend that time watching Dumb and Dumber instead, you’ve done something wrong. You were obligated to visit her. Still, others may not compel you to visit her. In short, your behavior was awful, but it shouldn’t be unlawful. So the mere fact that you were obligated to do something doesn’t imply that others may force you to do that thing.
This point holds in cases where the stakes are literally life or death. Consider other cases from a previous post:
The right of bodily autonomy prohibits the state from institutionalizing compulsory blood draws even in the event that they’re needed to prevent a catastrophic blood shortage. The right of occupational choice prohibits the state from coercing a brilliant heart surgeon into delaying her retirement even though doing so could save the lives of dozens of patients.
Here again, perhaps someone has a duty to give blood to address a shortage or to continue their career to save lives, but the duty doesn’t seem to be enforceable.
Notice also that Judith Thomson’s defense of abortion takes a similar line. In her famous thought experiment, you’ve been kidnapped and wake up to find that a famous violinist has been plugged into your kidneys. He needs to stay plugged in for nine months to survive. Thomson writes,
Is it morally incumbent on you to accede to this situation? No doubt it would be very nice of you if you did, a great kindness. But do you have to accede to it? What if it were not nine months, but nine years? Or longer still? What if the director of the hospital says. “Tough luck. I agree. but now you've got to stay in bed, with the violinist plugged into you, for the rest of your life. Because remember this. All persons have a right to life, and violinists are persons. Granted you have a right to decide what happens in and to your body, but a person's right to life outweighs your right to decide what happens in and to your body. So you cannot ever be unplugged from him.” I imagine you would regard this as outrageous.
As Thomson notes, it “would be very nice of you” to stay plugged in, but the violinist has no right to the use of your body to stay alive.
The point stands even if the cost of helping is quite low. She offers the case of Henry Fonda:
If I am sick unto death, and the only thing that will save my life is the touch of Henry Fonda's cool hand on my fevered brow. then all the same, I have no right to be given the touch of Henry Fonda's cool hand on my fevered brow. It would be frightfully nice of him to fly in from the West Coast to provide it. It would be less nice, though no doubt well meant, if my friends flew out to the West Coast and brought Henry Fonda back with them. But I have no right at all against anybody that he should do this for me.
She continues,
Suppose he isn't on the West Coast. Suppose he has only to walk across the room, place a hand briefly on my brow—and lo, my life is saved. Then surely he ought to do it—it would be indecent to refuse. Is it to be said, “Ah, well, it follows that in this case she has a right to the touch of his hand on her brow, and so it would be an injustice in him to refuse”? So that I have a right to it when it is easy for him to provide it, though no right when it's hard? It's rather a shocking idea that anyone's rights should fade away and disappear as it gets harder and harder to accord them to him.
Even in cases of “easy rescue,” the duty to help is not enforceable—it would be wrong to compel Fonda to place his hand on Thomson’s brow.
Next consider McFall v. Shimp. McFall was suffering from a rare disease and needed a bone marrow transplant to dramatically increase his chance of survival. Shimp, McFall’s cousin, was the only match, but he refused to donate. McFall sued Shimp in an attempt to force the donation. The judge determined that Shimp could not be forced to donate, but also criticized Shimp’s refusal to help voluntarily: “Morally, this decision rests with the defendant, and, in the view of the court, the refusal of the defendant is morally indefensible. For our law to compel the defendant to submit to an intrusion of his body would change the very concept and principle upon which our society is founded. To do so would defeat the sanctity of the individual and would impose a rule which would know no limits, and one could not imagine where the line would be drawn.” Here again, we see the distinction between a duty to help and an enforceable duty to help.
At this point, you might object that these cases simply show that the right of bodily autonomy may not be compromised for the sake of easy aid. Perhaps, though, property rights may be compromised for the sake of easy aid.
An initial worry about this response is that many liberals, including John Rawls, count both body rights and property rights as basic liberties that may not be violated for the sake of consequentialist considerations. Of course, maybe they should revise their view. Perhaps we should grant stronger protection to body rights than property rights because the cost of violating body rights is greater than the cost of violating property rights. I suspect this is true in many cases, but not all. Ask yourself this: if the state offered to exempt you from taxation for the rest of your life in exchange for your participation in a yearly blood draw to address blood shortages, would you take the deal? My hunch is that most people would.
Lastly, as I wrote in the earlier post, “Many liberals reject Bad Samaritan laws that impose an enforceable duty of easy rescue, such as one compelling bystanders to call 911 in the event of an emergency. But the rejection of this sort of law suggests that the state may not compel you to use your property to provide help to someone in need.” If your property rights entitle you to refuse to use your phone to call 911 to save someone’s life, then it seems as though they would entitle you to refuse to transfer some of your property to those in need.
I’ll note that I’m not a hardline deontologist myself. I think there is an enforceable duty of easy aid—you may not refuse to call 911 when needed to save someone’s life. But in the next two posts, I’ll explain why this position doesn’t provide much support for state-enforced redistribution.
I consider redistribution the worst of the states offenses. Money = Time = Life Itself
I'm less concerned with social insurance then out and out redistribution. If I'm compelled to pay for some kind of universal healthcare, but my premiums are roughly in line with my likely claims, I don't particularly mind. I could even stomach some limited altruistic smudging in the underwriting. But if my premiums are way higher then my likely claims then its redistribution and a scam.
As far as utilitarianism goes, I'm a big fan of economic growth and eugenics and bringing the most good to the most people over the long run. Setting up some big redistributive welfare state is counter to that and makes the world worse.
I’ve never heard this abortion before, nor one like it to discuss the morality around redistribution, both points I agree with you on, but I found it very compelling.