This Current Affairs outfit is regularly producing good material:
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here is a certain species of argument that is frequently raised in response to attempts to restrain the influence and power of corporations and the wealthy. It is, roughly: you will fail, therefore you should accept things as they are and not try to tamper with them. If you try to, say, issue some sort of new tax, you will be told that the wealthy will take their money offshore, with the implication that you should therefore not issue the tax.
Of course, it doesn’t necessarily imply that at all: the argument is a non sequitur, because “X alone won’t work” doesn’t necessarily mean “X shouldn’t be done,” it might just mean “X shouldn’t be done without also doing Y.” If the argument is “corporations will simply get around this new regulation,” that isn’t necessarily reason not to pass the regulation, it might just be reason to figure out ways to make sure you can enforce it effectively.
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The funny thing about these “it won’t work” arguments is that they often make the case for revolutionary socialism just as well as they make the case for inaction. [...] The people who make these arguments want us to reach the conclusion “Don’t even bother…” but if we examine them carefully, we can see that they can equally well mean “Don’t even bother… doing anything short of totally changing the economic system.”
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...conservative arguments almost never change. They tend to be variations on three themes: perversity, futility, and jeopardy. Perversity arguments are of the sort that say “this is immoral and goes against God’s will/tradition/the state/etc.” (Think culturally conservative arguments against homosexuality.) Jeopardy arguments suggest that some proposed change would jeopardize what we already have (“you’ll hurt the people you’re trying to help”). And futility arguments contend that it’s pointless to try to act, because you won’t succeed (futility and jeopardy are often used in conjunction: you’ll fail, and you’ll make things worse). The perversity, futility, jeopardy framework is very useful, because it allows us to recognize that conservative arguments are often formed prior to any examination of the facts: whatever the change is, we will be told that it is futile and will only make us worse off. That’s why there’s good reason to be skeptical of them. They may be correct, but it’s also frequently true that the speaker doesn’t really care whether they’re correct, because being a conservative means constantly saying that some proposed change will do no good, is an abomination, and will actually hurt the people you’re trying to help.
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Note that Schoen might be right that refusing to criticize Wall Street makes “economic sense” for the party: if you criticize the rich, they are unlikely to donate to your cause. But Schoen is also telling us that we are essentially held hostage by Wall Street: if you tick them off, they’ll move their money to the other side, and then you’ll lose. It’s an admission that the United States is in no way democratic: it doesn’t matter what people want, it matters what Wall Street wants, because they have the money, and so the people have to please them. This is true regardless of whether the criticisms of Wall Street have merit; Schoen doesn’t really refute the charges that are made. Instead, his posture is pragmatic: it doesn’t matter whether you’re right, it matters that they have money and you don’t. Schoen decries the Democratic embrace of “stifling” regulations, meaning a refusal to let Wall Street do as it pleases without consequence.
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The pattern of Schoen’s rhetoric is familiar: Resistance is futile. Wall Street is in charge, and you cannot tick them off. As I say, that may actually be true, and I’m not concerned to debate it here. But it’s amusing that people like Schoen think their arguments are somehow an endorsement of Wall Street, rather than an explanation of just how pernicious its stranglehold on political and economic life is.