More decisions make for more conflict

An argument for smaller government

In pursuit of “good,” politicians tend to insist on controlling all aspects of society. They call this “governing.” In governing, they increase the size and scope of government. This seems counter to the recommendation of Lao Tzu, who suggests, "The supreme good is like water, which nourishes all things without conflict."

Is conflict a natural outgrowth of government? Let’s take a look:

The individual — the smallest unit of government — is almost always the least complex of all government with the least amount of conflict. He establishes his own governing system that serves to nourish himself and provide order.

What time will he get up in the morning? What food and drink will he consume? Will his shower be hot or cold? How will he spend or save his money? He has no master to dictate his actions. In his home, he might choose to buy a new couch or pay for a vacation. His decisions — and his conflicts — are his alone to resolve, and those can change from day to day.

When the individual invites someone into his household — a roommate, boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife — the complexity of the household seems to double. How should the electricity bill be divided? Who will clean the kitchen and the bathtub? Shall the household pay for higher speed internet? Is someone penalized for leaving dirty socks in the living room? If so, how? Should the household buy a larger refrigerator, so as to store more food; or should the residents get a bigger television, to as to accommodate more group entertainment?

The more decisions that are invited into the space, the greater possibility for disagreement. There is a propensity to establish rules and responsibilities and to enforce those.

The complexity grows as different voices attempt exert influence and shape the look and operation of the household. Conflicts arise, but the number of decisions that could reasonably be taken up in the household are still finite.

A household is found in a neighborhood, community, or city. The people invite politicians to substitute their judgements over the countless decisions that could be made regarding the lives of the inhabitants. They might not ask the city council to decide a penalty for leaving dirty socks in the living room or choose which of three roommates is responsible for taking out the trash, but it could.

Even if we reduce government to its simplest role — the protection of life, liberty, and property — it does not take long before disputes arise about how to achieve that objective. Imagine that a town were incorporated tomorrow, big or small, it would instantly face questions such as:

— How many police and firefighters do we hire?
— How much money should they be paid? What benefits will they receive?
— Should collective bargaining be permitted or disallowed?
— How many fire and police stations do we need? With what kinds of equipment should employees be outfitted?

And importantly, how does all of it get paid for? Depending on the jurisdiction, city or state, options might include property taxes, fees and assessments, income taxes, or sales taxes.

And that’s just for two departments in one community. As government tries to do more, politicians find themselves voting on all kinds of issues: What size houses might be permitted? What color siding and roofs? How tall might the fences be? How will parking be managed? What amenities should the town offer? How will they be paid for? What incentives should be offered to what businesses to locate there, and what should those look like? In a town with 10,000 people, there are at least 20,000 opinions for how to proceed regarding thousands of decision points.

On top of what the local governments may decide to do, the state and national government have more people, more money, and even more rules and regulations. Politicians view themselves as arbiters of everything: Which jobs require licenses, and which should be made illegal? What should the schools teach? What are the penalties for the violation of laws? How much money should be allocated to each endeavor? Which tax should be collected and at what rate?

The politician argues that the greater the complexity, the need for more laws and programs to oversee it all. Yet each law, regulation, program, service, and project must answer countless questions in its administration. Each question is its own vector for even more conflict.

Take a program that helps the poor buy food. Just the decision to create such a program is riddled in conflict. Some will argue that wealth should be redistributed to help the poor pay for food. Others will counter that private charity and voluntary aid should be used for that purpose.

The antecedent of the question “should the program be created” involves countless other questions:

— How poor does one need to be to qualify for assistance?
— How long can a person stay on a program?
— Are all foods allowed to be purchased through the program or just certain, healthier options?
— Are purchases subject to taxes? Is the benefit subject to income taxes?
— Does a person need an ID to use the program or is it an honor system?

And so forth. Each of these policy questions creates new conflicts and more division both in political corridors and among the people.

Today, the body of U.S. laws and regulations is several million words. There’s no clear count of how many words exactly, but let’s just say that it’s well north of 30 million and more are being added all the time. Local and state jurisdictions have their own ordinances and statutes as well.

By contrast, a typical version of the Old Testament and New Testament Bible account for about 800,000 words. If biblical teachings and interpretations are the source of endless debate, is it unreasonable to expect endless conflict over the millions of words that form local, state, and national government rules and regulations?

Photo by Michael on Unsplash

This is why politicians would do well to not try and control everything. The more control exerted — the more decisions to be made — the greater the likelihood to create conflict.

Is our world so disordered — are humans so unequal to the task of being human — that it requires thousands upon thousands of agencies, programs, and laws to effectively manage it all?

Conflict is not the natural order of things. It is the thing we invite in every time we delegate to politicians the decisions we can make for ourselves.

The supreme good is like water,
which nourishes all things without conflict.
It is content with the low places that people disdain.
Thus it is like the Tao.

In dwelling, live close to the ground.
In thinking, keep to the simple.
In conflict, be fair and generous.
In governing, don’t try to control.
In work, do what you enjoy.
In family life, be completely present.

Where there is no conflict, there is no fault.

— Chapter 8 of the Tao Te Ching