In his thought-provoking book, Fewer Rules, Better People: The Case for Discretion, Barry Lam presents a compelling case for expanding the role of discretion in governance and bureaucracy. Early on, he hints that his ideas might not resonate with libertarians, who often view centralized authority with deep skepticism. After all, for the libertarian mindset, more power handed to bureaucrats equates to more shackles on freedom. However, Lamâs thesis can be reimagined in a way that might just strike a chord with libertarians, particularly those with a Hayekian inclination.
What truly concerns Hayekian liberals and libertarians is not merely the existence of top-down authority, but rather the centralized, monolithic power that attempts to enforce a uniform strategy across an entire society. Lamâs assertion that local bureaucrats should wield greater discretion in applying rules to specific situations actually decentralizes authority. This shift allows decision-making to be more localized and contextual, which is precisely the kind of governance that Hayek championed. By advocating for discretion, Lam aligns with Hayekâs notion that the best solutions often arise from the collective wisdom of many individuals navigating unique challenges, resonating with Hayek’s insights in The Use of Knowledge in Society.
Furthermore, Lamâs ideas harmonize with the principles encapsulated in Chestertonâs Fence. While many misinterpret this concept as a mere justification for the status quo, Chesterton emphasized the necessity of understanding the rationale behind existing rules before considering their removal. He illustrated this with the example of a fence that might seem pointless at first glance. As he articulated:
âThere exists in such a case a certain institution or law; let us say, for the sake of simplicity, a fence or gate erected across a road. The more modern type of reformer goes gaily up to it and says, âI donât see the use of this; let us clear it away.â To which the more intelligent type of reformer will do well to answer: âIf you donât see the use of it, I certainly wonât let you clear it away. Go away and think. Then, when you can come back and tell me that you do see the use of it, I may allow you to destroy it.ââ
Similarly, Lam urges a thoughtful examination of the intent behind rules, advocating that we must assess how they apply to real-life scenarios. This understanding helps identify when rigid adherence to a rule may hinder its intended purpose. Those conditioned to follow rules blindly often undermine the very objectives those rules were designed to achieve.
Lam’s assertion that a by-the-book bureaucrat poses as significant a threat to liberty and human flourishing as a tyrant struck a chord with me. Douglas Adams humorously depicted an entire species of bureaucratic sticklersâthe Vogonsâdescribing them as:
âOne of the most unpleasant races in the Galaxyânot actually evil, but bad-tempered, officious and callous. They wouldnât even lift a finger to save their own grandmothers from the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal without orders signed in triplicate, sent in, sent back, queried, lost, found, subjected to public inquiry, queried, lost again, and finally buried in soft peat for three months and recycled as firelighters.â
Scott Alexander provided a non-fictional glimpse into the labyrinthine experience of navigating bureaucratic oversight in his account of attempting to conduct a straightforward medical study under the watchful eye of an Institutional Review Board (IRB). His narrative, infused with a Dave Barry-esque humor, is a must-read. In one of the more absurd hurdles he faced, patients were required to sign forms with pens, despite being prohibited from using them in a mental health facility due to safety concerns. When Alexander explained this to the IRB, their response was a resounding insistence that the forms must indeed be signed with pensârules are rules, after all!
Moreover, Lam effectively highlights how strict legalism can lead to both moral and intellectual complacency among enforcers and followers alike. One of my favorite concepts from the late James C. Scott is what he termed âanarchist calisthenicsââthe deliberate cultivation of a rule-breaking spirit in instances where adherence to rules is nonsensical. He humorously suggested to a hypothetical German audience:
âYou know, you and especially your grandparents could have used more of a spirit of lawbreaking. One day you will be called on to break a big law in the name of justice and rationality. Everything will depend on it. You have to be ready. How are you going to prepare for that day when it really matters? You have to stay âin shapeâ so that when the big day comes you will be ready. What you need is anarchist calisthenics. Every day or so break some trivial law that makes no sense, even if itâs only jaywalking. Use your own head to judge whether a law is just or reasonable. That way, youâll keep trimâand when the big day comes, youâll be ready.â
Scott further illustrated this idea with the story of Hans Monderman, a traffic engineer in the Netherlands who achieved remarkable results by eliminating traffic lights at a notoriously congested intersection. Following this bold redesign, accidents plummeted from thirty-six to just two in two years, as drivers adapted to a system that encouraged attentiveness and cooperationâmuch like skaters navigating a crowded rink. He argued:
âThe shared-space concept of traffic management relies on the intelligence, good sense, and attentive observation of drivers, bicyclists, and pedestrians. At the same time, it may actually expand, in its small way, the capacity of drivers, cyclists, and pedestrians to negotiate traffic.â
In essence, Lamâs advocacy for discretion is about reconnecting with the human element in decision-making. It requires us to contemplate our actions, their implications for others, and the ultimate purpose behind established rules. While attempts may falter, the effort to engage meaningfully with the world is essential. A society where individuals disengage from this process risks devolving into the bureaucratic nightmare that Adams satirized.
Finally, I agree with Lam that trying to eliminate discretion through increasingly precise regulations can be counterproductive. His perspective, while philosophical rather than strictly economic, echoes the principles of diminishing marginal returns. The âguidance value of lawâ he discusses illustrates how laws help clarify acceptable behavior. However, as regulations become excessively detailed, their clarity diminishes. A lengthy rulebook may seem comprehensive, but it often becomes unwieldy, ultimately leading to confusion rather than enlightenment.
In conclusion, Lam is tapping into an important conversation about the role of discretion in governance and human interaction. While his arguments are robust, there are certainly areas worth further discussion and critique, which I plan to explore in my subsequent post.
