James Buchanan and Gordon Tullock Calculation of consent—published more than sixty years ago in 1962—was one of the most influential books applying economic ideas to politics. The authors were by no means libertarians, but they mostly favored a limited state and the free market. Another point in their favor was that both authors read my book reviews. In this week’s column, I’ll discuss some points of interest in the book, some of which haven’t received as much attention as they deserve.

The authors are strong proponents of methodological individualism and cite that of Ludwig von Mises Human action in defense of this point of view. Actions must always be traced back to individual decisions, and I reject “organic” conceptions of the state that see the state as acting independently of individuals.

This much is well known, but one issue that has not received enough attention is the use of methodological individualism to criticize Marx’s theory of history. Marx sees classes as groups acting as whole entities and fails to show how individuals are motivated to act in accordance with their supposed class interests. They blame the historian Charles A. Beard for his use of Marx’s theory in interpreting American history. A more realistic view, they suggest, would see individuals belonging to different Marxist classes as allies to obtain favors from the government. They put the problem as follows:

The point that has been largely overlooked is that it remains perfectly appropriate to assume that people are motivated by considerations of utility while rejecting the economic determinism implicit in the entire Marxist school of thought. Differences in utility functions stem from differences in taste as much as anything else. The class status of the individual in the production process is one of the less important factors of real economic interest. The phenomenon of textile unions and textile firms combining to bring political pressure to ban Japanese imports is far more familiar on the American scene today than any general political activity of labor, capital, or landed interests.

Let’s move on to another topic that has stirred up a lot of controversy. Does support for the free market imply support for open borders? Buchanan and Tulloch don’t think so. They say it will tend to lead to conflict between people and make it more difficult to agree on common projects. For the same reason, it is better to have a small state than a large one. They say about it:

It seems reasonable to expect that more will be invested in negotiations in a group composed of members who have distinctly different external characteristics than in a group composed of roughly homogeneous members. Increased uncertainty about the tastes and negotiating skills of his peers will cause the individual to be more stubborn in his own efforts. When he knows his fellow man better, the individual will be less stubborn in negotiations, and for perfectly rational reasons. The overall costs of decision-making will be lower, given any collective choice rule, in communities characterized by a reasonably homogeneous population than in those characterized by a heterogeneous population.

So far I have highlighted topics where the authors reach conclusions that will appeal to Rothbardians. But there are some topics that go decidedly in the opposite direction. Buchanan and Tulloch are moral skeptics (that is, they do not believe that the rules of morality are objectively true). Individuals attracted to views such as natural law that accept objective morality can use these views in constructing a personal morality, but they have no place in politics. Rothbardians, by contrast, argue that the ethics that delineate a proper legal system are the part of objective morality that concerns the permissible use of force.

Buchanan and Tulloch say in this regard that ‘it should come as no surprise that the most ‘sympathetic’ or ‘congenial’ works are to be found among the ‘realists’ in the history of political doctrine. Initially we look at Glaucon from Plato’s Republicto Thomas Hobbes and Benedict Spinoza.”

While they recognize that individuals can be swayed by moral ideals, they generally believe that people—in both economics and politics—aim to make as much money as possible. Morally driven people – whom I often call ‘Kantians’ – will tend to be taken advantage of by their less scrupulous fellow members of society and, reluctant to be ‘crazy’, will compromise their ideals. Everything has its price, including morality.

This view leads to what is both a strength and a weakness of their conception of politics. People in government do not seek power over others for its own sake, but rather see political office as a way to get money. This is a strength because it leads them to a skeptical view of politicians: they are not “public servants”, eager to pursue the “common good”, but no better than anyone else. But it is also a weakness because they believe that politicians are no worse than other people. The historical record is clear that they are much worse.

I don’t want to end on a negative note. While they accept the notion of “public goods,” rather than rejecting it Rothbard-style, they at least recognize that these goods need not be provided by the state. Often individuals can provide the good themselves voluntarily, and in such cases people will often prefer private arrangement to state provision. Unfortunately, they don’t think this is always the rational course of action, but at least it’s better than nothing.