About Buchanan, faith in people, and self-governance

Me: It sounds like he (James M Buchanan) wants to believe in self-governance, yet he doesn’t have faith in the distribution of the groupings, hence ‘free riding’, so in the end he supports the cohesion of the state after all.

Grok:

Your observation captures a tension in James M. Buchanan’s work that’s worth unpacking. You’re suggesting that while Buchanan champions self-governance and individual liberty, his concern about free-riding and coordination problems leads him to rely on formal institutional structures, which might seem to endorse the cohesion of the state—potentially contradicting his critique of the organismic view. Let’s explore this interpretation, addressing whether Buchanan’s focus on institutions implies support for state cohesion and how it aligns with his belief in self-governance. I’ll keep the response concise yet thorough, tying it to your previous questions about the organismic concept and group cooperation.

Buchanan’s Commitment to Self-Governance

Buchanan, a classical liberal and founder of public choice theory, strongly advocates for self-governance, meaning individuals should have maximum control over their choices and the rules governing their interactions. His rejection of the organismic concept—where collectives like “the state” or “society” are treated as unified entities with their own goals—stems from his belief that only individuals have preferences and agency. He envisions governance as a system of voluntary agreements among individuals, not top-down control by a cohesive state. Key points:

• In The Calculus of Consent (1962, with Gordon Tullock), Buchanan proposes that political systems should emerge from unanimous or near-unanimous consent at the constitutional level, where individuals agree on rules for collective decision-making. This reflects self-governance, as the state’s authority derives from individual agreement, not an inherent collective will.

• His concept of “politics as exchange” sees government as a mechanism for individuals to cooperate for mutual benefit (e.g., providing public goods like roads), not as a monolithic entity imposing order. This contrasts with organismic views that assume the state naturally serves a unified “public interest.”

The Free-Rider Problem and Institutional Needs

Your point about Buchanan’s lack of faith in the “distribution of the groupings” (i.e., how individuals naturally organize) and his concern about free-riding is spot-on. Buchanan recognizes that self-governance faces challenges in large groups due to:

Free-Riding: Individuals may benefit from collective goods (e.g., clean air, defense) without contributing, undermining cooperation. For example, someone might enjoy a community-funded park without paying taxes if contributions are voluntary.

Coordination Problems: Diverse preferences and large group sizes make spontaneous cooperation difficult without agreed-upon rules. Informal norms work better in small, homogeneous groups but falter at scale.

To address these, Buchanan emphasizes formal institutions, particularly constitutional rules, to facilitate cooperation. In The Limits of Liberty (1975), he argues that a social contract—a set of rules individuals consent to—prevents free-riding and ensures fair contributions to collective goods. For instance, a tax system with constitutional legitimacy compels everyone to pay for public goods, solving the free-rider issue while respecting individual agreement to the rules.

Does this mean Buchanan lacks faith in self-governance? Not quite. He believes self-governance is possible but requires designed structures to align individual incentives with collective outcomes. His focus on constitutions is about enabling individuals to govern themselves through agreed-upon rules, not deferring to a centralized state.

Does Buchanan Support State Cohesion?

Your suggestion that Buchanan’s reliance on institutions implies support for the “cohesion of the state” is a nuanced critique. Let’s break it down:

Not State Cohesion in the Organismic Sense: Buchanan explicitly rejects the idea of the state as a cohesive, sentient entity with its own goals (the organismic view). He sees the state as a collection of individuals—politicians, voters, bureaucrats—each pursuing their own interests. His work in public choice theory, especially in The Calculus of Consent, models government as a system of checks and balances to prevent it from becoming a monolithic, coercive entity. For example, he warns against a “predatory state” that exploits citizens under the guise of public interest.

Institutions as Tools, Not State Worship: Buchanan’s support for formal governance is about creating minimal, consensual frameworks to enable cooperation, not endorsing a strong, centralized state. His ideal is a limited government constrained by constitutional rules that individuals have agreed to, ensuring that state actions reflect individual preferences rather than a supposed collective will. For instance, his admiration for Knut Wicksell’s principle of “just taxation” requires taxes to be tied to benefits and approved by near-unanimous consent, minimizing state overreach.

Tension in Practice: You’re right that Buchanan’s reliance on formal institutions could, in practice, lead to a state with some degree of cohesion, as enforcing rules (e.g., tax collection) requires authority. Critics of Buchanan argue that his constitutional framework assumes a level of rational agreement that’s hard to achieve, and the resulting institutions might take on a life of their own, resembling the cohesive state he critiques. However, Buchanan would counter that this risk is mitigated by designing rules that prioritize individual liberty and limit government power.

Reconciling Self-Governance and Institutional Reliance

Buchanan’s position is that self-governance is not spontaneous but requires deliberate institutional design to succeed at scale. He doesn’t distrust individuals’ ability to cooperate but recognizes practical barriers like free-riding and coordination costs. His solution is a two-level governance framework:

1. Constitutional Level: Individuals agree on rules (e.g., voting systems, tax policies) to structure cooperation. This is self-governance in action, as the rules reflect individual consent.

2. Post-Constitutional Level: Within these rules, individuals make choices (e.g., voting, paying taxes) that produce collective outcomes. Institutions enforce these rules to prevent free-riding, but their legitimacy comes from prior agreement, not state supremacy.

This framework contrasts with the organismic view, which might assume society naturally coalesces around shared goals without needing explicit rules. Buchanan’s skepticism of such assumptions drives his focus on institutions, but he remains committed to individual liberty and minimal state intervention.

Addressing Your Critique

You’re correct that Buchanan’s concern about free-riding and group coordination could seem to undermine his faith in pure self-governance, pushing him toward formal institutions that resemble state cohesion. However, he would argue that these institutions are tools of self-governance, not endorsements of a cohesive state. The state’s role is to enforce rules individuals have chosen, not to act as an independent entity. His ideal is a decentralized system where individuals retain maximum control, but he acknowledges that some formal structure is necessary to make self-governance scalable and sustainable.

Conclusion

Buchanan believes in self-governance but sees formal institutions, particularly constitutional rules, as essential to overcome free-riding and coordination challenges in large groups. This doesn’t mean he supports state cohesion in the organismic sense; rather, he advocates for a limited, consensual state that enforces individual-agreed rules to enable cooperation. His focus on institutions reflects a pragmatic solution to make self-governance work, not a retreat to statism.

Author essays

I really enjoy late-in-life reflective essays written by authors whose work is too large and too challenging to tackle head on. For example Bertrand Russell wrote Portraits from Memory and other essays, which places him in his time and space as an observer of his contemporaries. And recently I’ve been enjoying Essays on Political Economy by James M. Buchanan.

Taken in small bites, it’s easier to chew on some of the ideas they left for the world.

Consider the fourth essay in the book: The Relatively Absolute Absolutes. Buchanan tells the story of how he was invited to give a talk on the same old hum drum economic stuff when he negotiated their accord to a presentation with this somewhat Suessian title. Keep in mind this is after he won the noble prize in 1986. With celebrity prizes earned, he was free to expend some creative thought.

He explains the commitment to the talk was meant to keep him on track with the good intentions of writing a small book, to bear the same title. Yet it doesn’t appear to have been enough of a push. So we must turn to this essay to learn what this great mind was trying to impart about relativity and absolutes.

I’m sure I am going to fall short of his intentions, but here is goes. The term implies that for purposes of analysis one can pull out a segmented situation and look at interactions at that level for the absolutes that are applicable, even if those absolutes are only relative once the segment is shoved back into the extended deck of playing cards for life.

If all settings of economic activity could be held on plates swirling on sticks, like the jugglers are able to manage, then to do the analysis of just one plate of activity, you are able to temporarily ignore the other relevant factors of being part of a larger group of plates (one being that they will come crashing to the ground once the stick stop jiggling).

In his first example he considers the work of Alfred Marshall who “imposed a temporal order environment within which firms act.” As we all know there are short term decisions which can garner immediate profits, but short change long term goals. Using the relatively absolute absolutes argues that it is OK to consider the short term ignoring the overarching ‘absolutes’ or givens of long term decisions. It’s OK to analyze long tern decisions under similar circumstance. Then pull the analysis together.

The short-period and the long-period planning process may occur simultaneously. The differentiation lies, instead, in the number of variables that are allowed within the relevant choice-set relative to the number of variables that are regulated to the set of constraints.

The next example releases the individual from commitments to institutions. “The individual must reckon on the the temporal ability of the potential choice variables, and norms for rational choice required that some variables be treated analogously to fixed inputs in the Marshallian model, that is, as relatively absolute absolutes for the purpose of making short-period choices.”

He says that this is all pretty straight forward on the surface but it gets more complicated when you consider how many plates everyone is trying to spin without any falling to the ground. Things get a little more interesting when one interest has constraints placed upon it by a higher level interest. For instance the “higher” level interest of loosing weight is biased constraint against the initial impulse to select a second chocolate Easter egg.

The practical part of what he is offering with the relatively absolute absolutes is that analysis and measures can be done on just one plate. “We may, on occasion, walk on ice as if it were solid ground, even if we recognize that to do so requires that certain conditions of temperature, time and place be met.”

I think this is a very useful point of view.

Catallactics

I came across a new word today in James M Buchanan’s Essays on the Political Economy. In his second essay, The Public Choice Perspective, he says:

I shall refer in the following discussion to two separate and distinct aspects of elements in the public-choice perspective. The first aspect is the generalized “catallactics” approach to economics. The second is the more familiar homo economicus postulate concerning individual behavior. These two elements, as I shall try to demonstrate, enter with differing weights in the several strands of public-choice theory, inclusively defined.

He goes on to explain what the catallactic part of the economy means as used in his POV.

The approach to economics that I have long urged and am urging here was called by some nineteenth-century proponents “catallactics,” the science of exchanges. More recently, Professor Hayek has suggested the term “catallaxy,” which he claims is more in keeping with the proper Greek origins of the word. This approach to economics, as the subject matter for inquiry, draws our attention directly to the process of exchange, trade, or agreement to contract.

Then he elaborates to distinguish traditional economics as the exchange between two individuals, versus the catallactic form as an exchange between groups of people.

If we take the catallactics approach seriously, we then quite naturally bring into the analysis complex as well as simple exchange, with complex exchange being defined as that contractual agreement process that goes beyond the economist’s magic number “2,” beyond the simple two-person, two-commodity barter setting. The emphasis shifts, directly and immediately, to all processes of voluntary agreement among persons.

This seems like more than a point of view. This is the foundational understanding of the comprehensive economic apparatus.