The population problem has no technical solution; it requires a fundamental extension in morality.
I would like to focus your attention not on the subject of the
article (national security in a nuclear world) but on the kind
of conclusion they reached, namely that there is no
technical solution to the problem. An implicit and almost
universal assumption of discussions published in
pfessional and semipopular scientific journals is that the
problem under discussion has a technical solution. A
technical solution may be defined as one that requires a
change only in the techniques of the natural sciences, demanding
little or nothing in the way of change in human values or
ideas of morality. In our day (though not in earlier times) technical solutions are
always welcome. Because of previous failures in prophecy, it
takes courage to assert that a desired technical solution is
not possible. Wiesner and York exhibited this courage;
publishing in a science journal, they insisted that the
solution to the problem was not to be found in the natural
sciences. They cautiously qualified their statement with the
phrase, "It is our considered professional
judgment... ." Whether they were right or not is not the
concern of the present article. Rather, the concern here is
with the important concept of a class of human problems
which can be called "no technical solution problems," and,
more specifically, with the identification and discussion of
one of these. It is easy to show that the class is not a null class. Recall the
game of tick-tack-toe. Consider the problem, "How can I win
the game of tick-tack-toe?" It is well known that I cannot,
if I assume (in keeping with the conventions of game theory)
that my opponent understands the game perfectly. Put another
way, there is no "technical solution" to the problem. I can
win only by giving a radical meaning to the word "win." I
can hit my opponent over the head; or I can drug him; or I
can falsify the records. Every way in which I "win"
involves, in some sense, an abandonment of the game, as we
intuitively understand it. (I can also, of course, openly
abandon the game--refuse to play it. This is what most adults
do.) The class of "No technical solution problems" has members. My thesis
is that the "population problem," as conventionally conceived,
is a member of this class. How it is conventionally
conceived needs some comment. It is fair to say that most
people who anguish over the population problem are trying to
find a way to avoid the evils of overpopulation without
relinquishing any of the privileges they now enjoy. They
think that farming the seas or developing new strains of
wheat will solve the problem--technologically. I try to show
here that the solution they seek cannot be found. The
population problem cannot be solved in a technical way, any
more than can the problem of winning the game of
tick-tack-toe. The Universal Declaration of Human Rights describes the family as
the natural and fundamental unit of society. It follows that
any choice and decision with regard to the size of the family
must irrevocably rest with the family itself, and cannot be
made by anyone else.
It is painful to have to deny categorically the validity of this
right; denying it, one feels as uncomfortable as a resident
of Salem, Massachusetts, who denied the reality of witches
in the 17th century. At the present time, in liberal
quarters, something like a taboo acts to inhibit criticism
of the United Nations. There is a feeling that the United
Nations is "our last and best hope," that we shouldn't find
fault with it; we shouldn't play into the hands of the
archconservatives. However, let us not forget what Robert
Louis Stevenson said: "The truth that is suppressed by
friends is the readiest weapon of the enemy." If we love the
truth we must openly deny the validity of the Universal
Declaration of Human Rights, even though it is promoted by
the United Nations. We should also join with Kingsley Davis
(15) in attempting to get Planned
Parenthood-World Population to see the error of its ways in
embracing the same tragic ideal. A fair defense can be put forward for the view that the world is
infinite; or that we do not know that it is not. But, in
terms of the practical problems that we must face in the
next few generations with the foreseeable technology, it is
clear that we will greatly increase human misery if we do
not, during the immediate future, assume that the world
available to the terrestrial human population is finite.
"Space" is no escape (2). A finite world can support only a finite population; therefore,
population growth must eventually equal zero. (The case of
perpetual wide fluctuations above and below zero is a
trivial variant that need not be discussed.) When this
condition is met, what will be the situation of mankind?
Specifically, can Bentham's goal of "the greatest good for
the greatest number" be realized? No--for two reasons, each sufficient by itself. The first is
a theoretical one. It is not mathematically possible to maximize
for two (or more) variables at the same time. This was
clearly stated by von Neumann and Morgenstern (3), but the principle is implicit in the
theory of partial differential equations, dating back at
least to D'Alembert (1717-1783). The second reason springs directly from biological facts. To live,
any organism must have a source of energy (for example,
food). This energy is utilized for two purposes: mere
maintenance and work. For man, maintenance of life requires
about 1600 kilocalories a day ("maintenance calories").
Anything that he does over and above merely staying alive
will be defined as work, and is supported by "work calories"
which he takes in. Work calories are used not only for what
we call work in common speech; they are also required for
all forms of enjoyment, from swimming and automobile racing
to playing music and writing poetry. If our goal is to
maximize population it is obvious what we must do: We must
make the work calories per person approach as close to zero
as possible. No gourmet meals, no vacations, no sports, no
music, no literature, no art. ... I think that everyone
will grant, without argument or proof, that maximizing
population does not maximize goods. Bentham's goal is
impossible. In reaching this conclusion I have made the usual assumption that it
is the acquisition of energy that is the problem. The
appearance of atomic energy has led some to question this
assumption. However, given an infinite source of energy,
population growth still produces an inescapable problem. The
problem of the acquisition of energy is replaced by the
problem of its dissipation, as J. H. Fremlin has so
wittily shown (4). The arithmetic signs in
the analysis are, as it were, reversed; but Bentham's goal
is still unobtainable. The optimum population is, then, less than the maximum. The
difficulty of defining the optimum is enormous; so far as I know,
no one has seriously tackled this problem. Reaching an
acceptable and stable solution will surely require more than
one generation of hard analytical work--and much
persuasion. We want the maximum good per person; but what is good? To one person
it is wilderness, to another it is ski lodges for thousands.
To one it is estuaries to nourish ducks for hunters to
shoot; to another it is factory land. Comparing one good
with another is, we usually say, impossible because goods
are incommensurable. Incommensurables cannot be
compared. Theoretically this may be true; but in real life incommensurables
are commensurable. Only a criterion of judgment and a system
of weighting are needed. In nature the criterion is
survival. Is it better for a species to be small and
hideable, or large and powerful? Natural selection
commensurates the incommensurables. The compromise achieved
depends on a natural weighting of the values of the
variables. Man must imitate this process. There is no doubt that in fact he
already does, but unconsciously. It is when the hidden decisions
are made explicit that the arguments begin. The problem for
the years ahead is to work out an acceptable theory of
weighting. Synergistic effects, nonlinear variation, and
difficulties in discounting the future make the intellectual
problem difficult, but not (in principle) insoluble.
Has any cultural group solved this practical problem at the present
time, even on an intuitive level? One simple fact proves
that none has: there is no prosperous population in the
world today that has, and has had for some time, a growth
rate of zero. Any people that has intuitively identified its
optimum point will soon reach it, after which its growth
rate becomes and remains zero. Of course, a positive growth rate might be taken as evidence that a
population is below its optimum. However, by any reasonable
standards, the most rapidly growing populations on earth
today are (in general) the most miserable. This association
(which need not be invariable) casts doubt on the optimistic
assumption that the positive growth rate of a population is
evidence that it has yet to reach its optimum. We can make little progress in working toward optimum population
size until we explicitly exorcize the spirit of Adam Smith
in the field of practical demography. In economic affairs,
The Wealth of Nations (1776) popularized the
"invisible hand," the idea that an individual who "intends
only his own gain," is, as it were, "led by an invisible
hand to promote . . . the public interest"
(5). Adam Smith did not assert that this was
invariably true, and perhaps neither did any of his
followers. But he contributed to a dominant tendency of
thought that has ever since interfered with positive action
based on rational analysis, namely, the tendency to assume
that decisions reached individually will, in fact, be the
best decisions for an entire society. If this assumption is
correct it justifies the continuance of our present policy
of laissez-faire in reproduction. If it is correct we can
assume that men will control their individual fecundity so
as to produce the optimum population. If the assumption is
not correct, we need to reexamine our individual freedoms to
see which ones are defensible. The tragedy of the commons develops in this way. Picture a pasture
open to all. It is to be expected that each herdsman will
try to keep as many cattle as possible on the commons. Such
an arrangement may work reasonably satisfactorily for
centuries because tribal wars, poaching, and disease keep
the numbers of both man and beast well below the carrying
capacity of the land. Finally, however, comes the day of
reckoning, that is, the day when the long-desired goal of
social stability becomes a reality. At this point, the
inherent logic of the commons remorselessly generates
tragedy. As a rational being, each herdsman seeks to maximize his gain.
Explicitly or implicitly, more or less consciously, he asks,
"What is the utility to me of adding one more animal to my
herd?" This utility has one negative and one positive
component. 1) The positive component is a function of the increment of one
animal. Since the herdsman receives all the proceeds from
the sale of the additional animal, the positive utility is
nearly +1. 2) The negative component is a function of the additional
overgrazing created by one more animal. Since, however, the
effects of overgrazing are shared by all the herdsmen, the
negative utility for any particular decision-making herdsman
is only a fraction of Adding together the component partial utilities, the rational
herdsman concludes that the only sensible course for him to
pursue is to add another animal to his herd. And another;
and another. . . . But this is the conclusion
reached by each and every rational herdsman sharing a
commons. Therein is the tragedy. Each man is locked into a
system that compels him to increase his herd without
limit--in a world that is limited. Ruin is the destination
toward which all men rush, each pursuing his own best
interest in a society that believes in the freedom of the
commons. Freedom in a commons brings ruin to all.
Some would say that this is a platitude. Would that it were! In a
sense, it was learned thousands of years ago, but natural
selection favors the forces of psychological denial (8). The individual benefits as an individual
from his ability to deny the truth even though society as a
whole, of which he is a part, suffers. Education can counteract the natural tendency to do the wrong thing,
but the inexorable succession of generations requires that
the basis for this knowledge be constantly refreshed. A simple incident that occurred a few years ago in Leominster,
Massachusetts, shows bow perishable the knowledge is. During
the Christmas shopping season the parking meters downtown
were covered with plastic bags that bore tags reading: "Do
not open until after Christmas. Free parking courtesy of the
mayor and city council." In other words, facing the prospect
of an increased demand for already scarce space. the city
fathers reinstituted the system of the commons. (Cynically,
we suspect that they gained more votes than they lost by
this retrogressive act.) In an approximate way, the logic of the commons has been understood
for a long time, perhaps since the discovery of agriculture
or the invention of private property in real estate. But it
is understood mostly only in special cases which are not
sufficiently generalized. Even at this late date, cattlemen
leasing national land on the western ranges demonstrate no
more than an ambivalent understanding, in constantly
pressuring federal authorities to increase the head count to
the point where overgrazing produces erosion and
weed-dominance. Likewise, the oceans of the world continue
to suffer from the survival of the philosophy of the
commons. Maritime nations still respond automatically to the
shibboleth of the "freedom of the seas." Professing to
believe in the "inexhaustible resources of the oceans," they
bring species after species of fish and whales closer to
extinction (9). The National Parks present another instance of the working out of
the tragedy of the commons. At present, they are open to
all, without limit. The parks themselves are limited in
extent--there is only one Yosemite Valley--whereas
population seems to grow without limit. The values that
visitors seek in the parks are steadily eroded. Plainly, we
must soon cease to treat the parks as commons or they will
be of no value to anyone. What shall we do? We have several options. We might sell them off as
private property. We might keep them as public property, but
allocate the right to enter them. The allocation might be on
the basis of wealth, by the use of an auction system. It might
be on the basis of merit, as defined by some agreed-upon
standards. It might be by lottery. Or it might be on a
first-come, first-served basis, administered to long queues.
These, I think, are all the reasonable possibilities. They
are all objectionable. But we must choose--or acquiesce in
the destruction of the commons that we call our National
Parks. The tragedy of the commons as a food basket is averted by private
property, or something formally like it. But the air and
waters surrounding us cannot readily be fenced, and so the
tragedy of the commons as a cesspool must be prevented by
different means, by coercive laws or taxing devices that
make it cheaper for the polluter to treat his pollutants
than to discharge them untreated. We have not progressed as
far with the solution of this problem as we have with the
first. Indeed, our particular concept of private property,
which deters us from exhausting the positive resources of
the earth, favors pollution. The owner of a factory on the
bank of a stream--whose property extends to the middle of the
stream, often has difficulty seeing why it is not his
natural right to muddy the waters flowing past his door. The
law, always behind the times, requires elaborate stitching
and fitting to adapt it to this newly perceived aspect of
the commons. The pollution problem is a consequence of population. It did not
much matter how a lonely American frontiersman disposed of
his waste. "Flowing water purifies itself every 10 miles,"
my grandfather used to say, and the myth was near enough to
the truth when he was a boy, for there were not too many
people. But as population became denser, the natural
chemical and biological recycling processes became
overloaded, calling for a redefinition of property rights.
In passing, it is worth noting that the morality of an act cannot be
determined from a photograph. One does not know whether a
man killing an elephant or setting fire to the grassland is
harming others until one knows the total system in which his
act appears. "One picture is worth a thousand words," said
an ancient Chinese; but it may take 10,000 words to
validate it. It is as tempting to ecologists as it is to
reformers in general to try to persuade others by way of the
photographic shortcut. But the essense of an argument cannot
be photographed: it must be presented rationally--in words.
That morality is system-sensitive escaped the attention of most
codifiers of ethics in the past. "Thou shalt not . . ."
is the form of traditional ethical directives which make no
allowance for particular circumstances. The laws of our
society follow the pattern of ancient ethics, and therefore
are poorly suited to governing a complex, crowded,
changeable world. Our epicyclic solution is to augment
statutory law with administrative law. Since it is
practically impossible to spell out all the conditions under
which it is safe to burn trash in the back yard or to run an
automobile without smog-control, by law we delegate the details
to bureaus. The result is administrative law, which is
rightly feared for an ancient reason--Quis custodiet
ipsos custodes?--"Who shall watch the watchers
themselves?" John Adams said that we must have "a government
of laws and not men." Bureau administrators, trying to
evaluate the morality of acts in the total system, are
singularly liable to corruption, producing a government by
men, not laws. Prohibition is easy to legislate (though not necessarily to
enforce); but how do we legislate temperance? Experience indicates
that it can be accomplished best through the mediation of
administrative law. We limit possibilities unnecessarily if
we suppose that the sentiment of Quis custodiet
denies us the use of administrative law. We should
rather retain the phrase as a perpetual reminder of fearful
dangers we cannot avoid. The great challenge facing us now
is to invent the corrective feedbacks that are needed to
keep custodians honest. We must find ways to legitimate the
needed authority of both the custodians and the corrective
feedbacks. If each human family were dependent only on its own resources; if
the children of improvident parents starved to death; if,
thus, overbreeding brought its own "punishment" to the germ
line--then there would be no public interest in
controlling the breeding of families. But our society is
deeply committed to the welfare state (12), and hence is confronted with another aspect of
the tragedy of the commons. In a welfare state, how shall we deal with the family, the religion,
the race, or the class (or indeed any distinguishable and
cohesive group) that adopts overbreeding as a policy to secure
its own aggrandizement (13)? To couple the
concept of freedom to breed with the belief that everyone
born has an equal right to the commons is to lock the world
into a tragic course of action. Unfortunately this is just the course of action that is being
pursued by the United Nations. In late 1967, some
30 nations agreed to the following (14): People vary. Confronted with appeals to limit breeding, some people
will undoubtedly respond to the plea more than others. Those
who have more children will produce a larger fraction of the
next generation than those with more susceptible consciences.
The difference will be accentuated, generation by
generation. In C. G. Darwin's words: "It may well be that it would
take hundreds of generations for the progenitive instinct to
develop in this way, but if it should do so, nature would
have taken her revenge, and the variety Homo
contracipiens would become extinct and would be replaced
by the variety Homo progenitivus" (16).
The argument assumes that conscience or the desire for children (no
matter which) is hereditary--but hereditary only in the most
general formal sense. The result will be the same whether
the attitude is transmitted through germ cells, or
exosomatically, to use A. J. Lotka's term. (If one
denies the latter possibility as well as the former, then
what's the point of education?) The argument has here been
stated in the context of the population problem, but it
applies equally well to any instance in which society
appeals to an individual exploiting a commons to restrain
himself for the general good--by means of his conscience. To
make such an appeal is to set up a selective system that
works toward the elimination of conscience from the
race. Everyman then is caught in what Bateson has called a "double bind."
Bateson and his co-workers have made a plausible case for
viewing the double bind as an important causative factor in
the genesis of schizophrenia (17). The double
bind may not always be so damaging, but it always endangers
the mental health of anyone to whom it is applied. "A bad
conscience," said Nietzsche, "is a kind of illness." To conjure up a conscience in others is tempting to anyone who
wishes to extend his control beyond the legal limits. Leaders
at the highest level succumb to this temptation. Has any
President during the past generation failed to call on labor
unions to moderate voluntarily their demands for higher
wages, or to steel companies to honor voluntary guidelines
on prices? I can recall none. The rhetoric used on such
occasions is designed to produce feelings of guilt in
noncooperators. For centuries it was assumed without proof that guilt was a
valuable, perhaps even an indispensable, ingredient of the
civilized life. Now, in this post-Freudian world, we doubt
it. Paul Goodman speaks from the modern point of view when he says: "No
good has ever come from feeling guilty, neither intelligence,
policy, nor compassion. The guilty do not pay attention to
the object but only to themselves, and not even to their own
interests, which might make sense, but to their anxieties"
(18). One does not have to be a professional psychiatrist to see the
consequences of anxiety. We in the Western world are just emerging
from a dreadful two-centuries-long Dark Ages of Eros that
was sustained partly by prohibition laws, but perhaps more
effectively by the anxiety-generating mechanism of
education. Alex Comfort has told the story well in The
Anxiety Makers (19); it is not a
pretty one. Since proof is difficult, we may even concede that the results of
anxiety may sometimes, from certain points of view, be desirable.
The larger question we should ask is whether, as a matter of
policy, we should ever encourage the use of a technique the
tendency (if not the intention) of which is psychologically
pathogenic. We hear much talk these days of responsible
parenthood; the coupled words are incorporated into the
titles of some organizations devoted to birth control. Some
people have proposed massive propaganda campaigns to instill
responsibility into the nation's (or the world's) breeders.
But what is the meaning of the word responsibility in this
context? Is it not merely a synonym for the word conscience?
When we use the word responsibility in the absence of
substantial sanctions are we not trying to browbeat a free
man in a commons into acting against his own interest?
Responsibility is a verbal counterfeit for a substantial
quid pro quo. It is an attempt to get something for
nothing. If the word responsibility is to be used at all, I suggest that it
be in the sense Charles Frankel uses it (20).
"Responsibility," says this philosopher, "is the product of
definite social arrangements." Notice that Frankel calls for
social arrangements--not propaganda. The morality of bank-robbing is particularly easy to understand
because we accept complete prohibition of this activity. We
are willing to say "Thou shalt not rob banks," without
providing for exceptions. But temperance also can be created
by coercion. Taxing is a good coercive device. To keep
downtown shoppers temperate in their use of parking space we
introduce parking meters for short periods, and traffic
fines for longer ones. We need not actually forbid a citizen
to park as long as he wants to; we need merely make it
increasingly expensive for him to do so. Not prohibition,
but carefully biased options are what we offer him. A
Madison Avenue man might call this persuasion; I prefer the
greater candor of the word coercion. Coercion is a dirty word to most liberals now, but it need not
forever be so. As with the four-letter words, its dirtiness
can be cleansed away by exposure to the light, by saying it
over and over without apology or embarrassment. To many, the
word coercion implies arbitrary decisions of distant and
irresponsible bureaucrats; but this is not a necessary part
of its meaning. The only kind of coercion I recommend is
mutual coercion, mutually agreed upon by the majority of the
people affected. To say that we mutually agree to coercion is not to say that we are
required to enjoy it, or even to pretend we enjoy it. Who
enjoys taxes? We all grumble about them. But we accept compulsory
taxes because we recognize that voluntary taxes would favor
the conscienceless. We institute and (grumblingly) support
taxes and other coercive devices to escape the horror of the
commons. An alternative to the commons need not be perfectly just to be
preferable. With real estate and other material goods, the
alternative we have chosen is the institution of private
property coupled with legal inheritance. Is this system
perfectly just? As a genetically trained biologist I deny
that it is. It seems to me that, if there are to be
differences in individual inheritance, legal possession
should be perfectly correlated with biological
inheritance--that those who are biologically more fit to be
the custodians of property and power should legally inherit
more. But genetic recombination continually makes a mockery
of the doctrine of "like father, like son" implicit in our
laws of legal inheritance. An idiot can inherit millions,
and a trust fund can keep his estate intact. We must admit
that our legal system of private property plus inheritance
is unjust--but we put up with it because we are not
convinced, at the moment, that anyone has invented a better
system. The alternative of the commons is too horrifying to
contemplate. Injustice is preferable to total ruin.
It is one of the peculiarities of the warfare between reform and the
status quo that it is thoughtlessly governed by a double
standard. Whenever a reform measure is proposed it is often
defeated when its opponents triumphantly discover a flaw in
it. As Kingsley Davis has pointed out (21), worshippers of the status quo sometimes
imply that no reform is possible without unanimous
agreement, an implication contrary to historical fact. As
nearly as I can make out, automatic rejection of proposed
reforms is based on one of two unconscious assumptions: (i)
that the status quo is perfect; or (ii) that the choice we
face is between reform and no action; if the proposed reform
is imperfect, we presumably should take no action at all,
while we wait for a perfect proposal. But we can never do nothing. That which we have done for thousands
of years is also action. It also produces evils. Once we are
aware that the status quo is action, we can then compare its
discoverable advantages and disadvantages with the predicted
advantages and disadvantages of the proposed reform,
discounting as best we can for our lack of experience. On
the basis of such a comparison, we can make a rational
decision which will not involve the unworkable assumption
that only perfect systems are tolerable. First we abandoned the commons in food gathering, enclosing farm
land and restricting pastures and hunting and fishing areas.
These restrictions are still not complete throughout the
world. Somewhat later we saw that the commons as a place for waste disposal
would also have to be abandoned. Restrictions on the disposal of
domestic sewage are widely accepted in the Western world; we are still
struggling to close the commons to pollution by automobiles, factories,
insecticide sprayers, fertilizing operations, and atomic energy
installations. In a still more embryonic state is our recognition of the evils of
the commons in matters of pleasure. There is almost no restriction on
the propagation of sound waves in the public medium. The shopping
public is assaulted with mindless music, without its consent. Our
government is paying out billions of dollars to create supersonic
transport which will disturb 50,000 people for every one person
who is whisked from coast to coast 3 hours faster. Advertisers
muddy the airwaves of radio and television and pollute the view of
travelers. We are a long way from outlawing the commons in matters of
pleasure. Is this because our Puritan inheritance makes us view
pleasure as something of a sin, and pain (that is, the pollution of
advertising) as the sign of virtue? Every new enclosure of the commons involves the infringement of
somebody's personal liberty. Infringements made in the distant past are
accepted because no contemporary complains of a loss. It is the newly
proposed infringements that we vigorously oppose; cries of "rights" and
"freedom" fill the air. But what does "freedom" mean? When men mutually
agreed to pass laws against robbing, mankind became more free, not less
so. Individuals locked into the logic of the commons are free only to
bring on universal ruin once they see the necessity of mutual coercion,
they become free to pursue other goals. I believe it was Hegel who
said, "Freedom is the recognition of necessity." The most important aspect of necessity that we must now recognize,
is the necessity of abandoning the commons in breeding. No technical
solution can rescue us from the misery of overpopulation. Freedom to
breed will bring ruin to all. At the moment, to avoid hard decisions
many of us are tempted to propagandize for conscience and responsible
parenthood. The temptation must be resisted, because an appeal to
independently acting consciences selects for the disappearance of all
conscience in the long run, and an increase in anxiety in the short.
The only way we can preserve and nurture other and more precious
freedoms is by relinquishing the freedom to breed, and that very soon.
"Freedom is the recognition of necessity"--and it is the role of
education to reveal to all the necessity of abandoning the freedom to
breed. Only so, can we put an end to this aspect of the tragedy of the
commons.
At the end of a thoughtful article on the future of nuclear war,
Wiesner and York (1) concluded that: "Both sides in
the arms race are ... confronted by the dilemma of
steadily increasing military power and steadily decreasing
national security. It is our considered professional
judgment that this dilemma has no technical solution. If
the great powers continue to look for solutions in the area
of science and technology only, the result will be to worsen
the situation."
What Shall We Maximize?
Population, as Malthus said, naturally tends to grow "geometrically,"
or, as we would now say, exponentially. In a finite world
this means that the per capita share of the world's goods
must steadily decrease. Is ours a finite world?
Tragedy of Freedom in a Commons
The rebuttal to the invisible hand in population control is to be found
in a scenario first sketched in a little-known pamphlet (6)
in 1833 by a mathematical amateur named William Forster Lloyd
(1794-1852). We may well call it "the tragedy of the
commons," using the word "tragedy" as the philosopher
Whitehead used it (7): "The essence of
dramatic tragedy is not unhappiness. It resides in the
solemnity of the remorseless working of things." He then
goes on to say, "This inevitableness of destiny can only be
illustrated in terms of human life by incidents which in fact
involve unhappiness. For it is only by them that the
futility of escape can be made evident in the drama."
1. Pollution
In a reverse way, the tragedy of the commons reappears in problems of
pollution. Here it is not a question of taking something out
of the commons, but of putting something in--sewage, or chemical,
radioactive, and heat wastes into water; noxious and
dangerous fumes into the air, and distracting and unpleasant
advertising signs into the line of sight. The calculations
of utility are much the same as before. The rational man
finds that his share of the cost of the wastes he discharges
into the commons is less than the cost of purifying his
wastes before releasing them. Since this is true for
everyone, we are locked into a system of "fouling our own
nest," so long as we behave only as independent, rational,
free-enterprisers.
How To Legislate Temperance?
Analysis of the pollution problem as a function of population density
uncovers a not generally recognized principle of morality,
namely: the morality of an act is a function of the state of
the system at the time it is performed (10). Using the commons as a cesspool does
not harm the general public under frontier conditions,
because there is no public, the same behavior in a
metropolis is unbearable. A hundred and fifty years ago a
plainsman could kill an American bison, cut out only the
tongue for his dinner, and discard the rest of the animal.
He was not in any important sense being wasteful. Today,
with only a few thousand bison left, we would be appalled at
such behavior.
Freedom To Breed Is Intolerable
The tragedy of the commons is involved in population problems in
another way. In a world governed solely by the principle of
"dog eat dog"--if indeed there ever was such a world--how many
children a family had would not be a matter of public
concern. Parents who bred too exuberantly would leave fewer
descendants, not more, because they would be unable to care
adequately for their children. David Lack and others have
found that such a negative feedback demonstrably controls
the fecundity of birds (11). But men are
not birds, and have not acted like them for millenniums, at
least.
Conscience Is Self-Eliminating
It is a mistake to think that we can control the breeding of mankind in
the long run by an appeal to conscience. Charles Galton
Darwin made this point when he spoke on the centennial of
the publication of his grandfather's great book. The
argument is straightforward and Darwinian.
Pathogenic Effects of Conscience
The long-term disadvantage of an appeal to conscience should be enough
to condemn it; but has serious short-term disadvantages as
well. If we ask a man who is exploiting a commons to desist
"in the name of conscience," what are we saying to him? What
does he hear? --not only at the moment but also in the wee
small hours of the night when, half asleep, he remembers not
merely the words we used but also the nonverbal
communication cues we gave him unawares? Sooner or later,
consciously or subconsciously, he senses that he has
received two communications, and that they are contradictory:
(i) (intended communication) "If you don't do as we ask, we
will openly condemn you for not acting like a responsible
citizen"; (ii) (the unintended communication) "If you do
behave as we ask, we will secretly condemn you for a
simpleton who can be shamed into standing aside while the
rest of us exploit the commons."
Mutual Coercion Mutually Agreed upon
The social arrangements that produce responsibility are arrangements
that create coercion, of some sort. Consider bank-robbing.
The man who takes money from a bank acts as if the bank were
a commons. How do we prevent such action? Certainly not by
trying to control his behavior solely by a verbal appeal to
his sense of responsibility. Rather than rely on propaganda
we follow Frankel's lead and insist that a bank is not a
commons; we seek the definite social arrangements that will
keep it from becoming a commons. That we thereby infringe on
the freedom of would-be robbers we neither deny nor regret.
Recognition of Necessity
Perhaps the simplest summary of this analysis of man's population
problems is this: the commons, if justifiable at all, is
justifiable only under conditions of low-population density.
As the human population has increased, the commons has had
to be abandoned in one aspect after another.
REFERENCES
Volume 162, Number 3859 Issue of 13 Dec 1968, pp. 1243 - 1248
©1998 by The American Association for the Advancement of
Science.