I Stopped Being a Libertarian Because I Realized the Sky is Blue

When a thinker publicly changes his mind on major questions, neutral observers normally interpret it as a sign of courage and maturity. Almost no one enjoys admitting they were wrong — and “I changed my mind” is tantamount to “I was wrong.”

On reflection, however, this favorable interpretation is premature. Yes, changing your mind because you discover surprising new evidence or arguments is courageous and mature. But what if you change your mind for purely emotional reasons, like “The idea that murderers shouldn’t be punished started to disgust me”? Or because you have a falling out with friends who share your views? “My girlfriend dumped me, so I left the church.”

Neither of these intellectual paths even hints at courage or maturity.

The situation only slightly shifts if you change your mind because you “discover” blatantly obvious evidence or arguments. True, belatedly acknowledging the blatantly obvious is more courageous and mature than denying them in perpetuity. “I realized that if incomes were fully equal, it would be hard to hire garbage collectors” or “I now concede that people in the U.S. are richer than in Russia” are both intellectual improvements. Strategically, you might want to condescendingly praise such concessions as “courageous” and “mature.” But the brutally honest reaction, however, is “Why should I praise you for finally abandoning your childish nonsense?” Plus: “Now that you’ve confessed your propensity for terrible judgment on major questions, you should probably stop talking like an authority and spend some years humbly learning from those of us with better judgment.”

This is exactly my reaction when former socialists announce, “I stopped being a socialist because I realized that incentives matter.” Yes, incentives do matter, and it’s better to concede this fact than deny it. However, the fact that a person until recently denied this obvious truth remains damning. Since they exhibited awful judgment for years, their judgment probably remains poor. Until they proverbially “do the work” of mastering the obvious from those of us who knew that incentives matter all along, we shouldn’t take their further reflections seriously. And neither should they.

If you protest, “What a straw man! Smart socialists have long been aware that incentives matter,” I happily agree. But don’t commit the Straw Man Straw Man. Plenty of socialists really do deny that incentives matter. Some of them eventually recant. My point: Such former socialists clearly have terrible judgment. If you welcome them with open arms, it’s mercy, not justice.

You should have exactly the same reaction when former libertarians announce, “I stopped being a libertarian because I realized that culture matters.” Yes, culture does matter, and it’s better to concede this fact than deny it. However, the fact that a person until recently denied this obvious truth remains deeply damning. Since they exhibited terrible judgment for years, their judgment probably remains poor. Until they proverbially “do the work” of mastering the obvious from those of us who knew that culture matters all along, we shouldn’t take their further reflections seriously. And neither should they.

If you protest, “What a straw man! Smart libertarians have long been aware that culture matters,” I once again happily agree. In fact, a large majority of libertarians have been aware that culture matters for as long as I can remember. But once again, we should avoid the Straw Man Straw Man. A minority of libertarians really are oblivious to the role of culture. A minority of this minority eventually recants their libertarianism on cultural grounds. And when they do, the right lesson to draw is not, “Heed well the words of these visionaries!” but “These people are self-confessed fools.”

You could reply, “You’re just name-calling. Address their arguments.” But as I’ve often insisted, life is too short to address more than a tiny fraction of all arguments, so wise thinkers apportion their attention based on speakers’ track records. To admit that you’ve spent years mired in elementary errors is to admit that the world is right to spend years ignoring what you have to say next. Instead of trying to swiftly regain the limelight, accept that given your poor track record, you need to rebuild your intellectual credibility brick by boring brick.

Imagine someone tells you, “I stopped being a libertarian because I realized the sky is blue.” Your reaction shouldn’t be, “Wow, libertarians are a bunch of fools.” Your reaction should be, “The speaker is a fool.” He’s not just a fool because he spent so many years denying the blueness of the sky. He’s a fool for failing to realize that most libertarians always accepted the blueness of the sky. He’s a fool for failing to understand that liberty and blue skies are compatible. And he’s a fool for thinking that correcting his elementary errors makes him epistemically worthy of attention. Sure, you might humor the speaker to be polite, or to encourage others like him to admit that the sky is blue. But remember that the main thing he’s managed to do is leap from one error to a pile of other errors.