Fine tuning the politics of
self-interest
Commentary by Adam Tanous
The other night there were two equally
confounding universes playing out. On the one hand, there was my nearly
6-year-old son trying to explain to me—in vain it turns out—the otherworldly
card game of Yu-Gi-Oh, with its intricate rules of strength, meanings and
confusing power relationships. On the other was the evening news—another
wretched day playing out in Iraq—violence, chaos and anger spilling out of the
broadcast.
It occurred to me right then that I did
not care if the mess in Iraq was cleared up in 30 days or two years. What I
suddenly worried about was that this big, fat boot print we have put in the
Middle East would be there fomenting anger in Arabs and Muslims 13 years from
now, when my son is out in the world. Suddenly, I was struck with the fear that
when he’s 18 huge swaths of the world—Arabic, Islamic or just Third World
sympathizers—would hate him, sweet heart and all.
In the abstract, anyone can make grand
statements about how great it is to have gotten rid of the little worm in the
hole. I’ve done it, but always in my mind was the assumption that this whole
mess would be cleaned up by the time it had any effect on my children. Now I’m
not so sure that’s the case.
And I will be the first to admit that just
about any stance, or decision or view I might take now ultimately filters
through the prism of having two small children. I would hazard to say anyone
with small children acts this way—it’s a biological thing, an evolutionary thing
and, yes, a self-interest thing. It is self-interest that is linked to
sustaining life, enhancing life for those we love.
Altruism is a fine concept, but,
ultimately, it falls victim to self-interest. And really, from an evolutionary
perspective we shouldn’t expect otherwise. Self-interest of some form or another
is the engine of evolution. Nor can we expect the civic expression of
evolution—democracy—to be anything but the aggregate result of the selfish
interests of each and every voter.
But perhaps the nature of the
self-interest can be fine-tuned, especially that of our politicians. And so with
little fanfare I propose an Amendment to the Constitution, the 28th:
No Person shall be eligible to the Office
of President who has not one biological or legally adopted child under the age
of 5 and one the age of 15.
Silly perhaps, but no sillier than
requiring the president to be 35, a natural born citizen and a resident 14
years.
So, what is the value of filial checks and
balances?
Consider issues of war. The younger child
ensures us that the long-term political end of a war is viable. The older child
ensures that the short-term military goal of a war is justifiable.
Tax breaks and deficit spending are always
fun. But if the president had a 5-year-old, would he want to saddle him with a
$500 billion deficit—4.25 percent of the total economy—knowing that those future
workers will be shelling out enormous amounts of money to fund Social Security
benefits for the baby boom generation? That child and his coworkers will live
with the fiscal equivalent of an elephant on the chest of the economy most of
their working years.
If the president had a 5-year-old—his or
her personhood yet to be fully revealed—would he introduce legislation that
would ultimately take rights away from his child if he or she turned out to be
gay many years later?
Would he take steps to limit the control
his 5-year-old daughter would one day have over her own body?
A president with a 5-year-old would not
open the floodgates of the Strategic Petroleum Reserve, nor seek to drill for
oil in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge, nor otherwise artificially keep the
price of oil down. He would let the price rise, because price pressure is the
only way auto manufacturers will have sufficient incentive to develop technology
to steer us away from the dead end of fossil fuels.
This is all to say that our political
vision needs to extend beyond the length of one, or even two, presidential
terms.
The only way I know to force politicians
to do that is to hit them where it hurts, where their self-interests ultimately
reside—in their hearts.
And if all this talk of evolutionary
self-interest is anathema to some, forget it.
Assume God created the world as it says in
Genesis. Would God create a world that was not meant to be sustained? Would not
an omnipotent God have created a check on Man—who we know from the beginning was
flawed—something that would ensure the future of the world?
That fine print in God’s contract might
just be what is inseparable from our souls—the love and hope for children.