One represents a belief in an inviolable positive right to life and health, the other represents a belief that life exists solely at the discretion of society/authority.
Note that I distinguish between single-provider/government-provided healthcare and universal healthcare. Somebody who wants government in charge of healthcare isn’t necessarily someone who believes in universal access to it.
One represents a belief in an inviolable positive right to life and health, the other represents a belief that life exists solely at the discretion of society/authority.
These are not the only possible intentions behind these policies, and not all support or opposition to them is based on those particular intentions.
In particular I suspect most of the supporters of universal healthcare think of it as a positive right to life/health, whereas most of it’s opponents think of it as a issue of governmental power.
Similarly, I suspect supporters of drone strikes think of it in terms of justice and/or preventing terrorism, whereas most of it’s opponents think of it as a issue of governmental power.
Thus people who don’t see governmental power as a problem, or are simply not inclined to think about it and its implications are likely to be more favorable to both.
First, the actual policies that aim at providing universal healthcare including cost-cutting measures of one kind or another. These measures, by their very nature, involve restricting what kind and how much medical care a person can receive and when they can receive it. The politically loaded term is “rationing”. The State is going tell you what you can and cannot buy with their money. The politically loaded term is “death panel”. Neither of which I, personally, see anything wrong with. But since policies designed to establish universal health care tend to involve taxing people I can certainly see how some would see it as a expansion of society’s discretion regarding life and health.
Second and more important: these aren’t symbols for abstract ideas about political philosophy. They are actual policies that are created by real governments and implemented by actual people. Any justification for either of them --regardless of one’s terminal values—will involve a complex synthesis of information from a wide set of domains. A position on universal healthcare, for instance, involves thinking about incentives for individuals, doctors, pharmaceutical companies, hospitals etc. E.g. what happens to prices when the person receiving the good isn’t footing the bill and what happens to behavior when the actor isn’t paying for the consequences of that behavior. If there are cost lowering measures: how do you determine what to pay for or who do you trust to determine it? What will the effect of these measures be on experimental procedures and will this harm innovation? If the country needs to borrow to pay for health care what will the effect be on the country’s economy? What about all the other ways to spend that money?
Drone warfare involves different complex questions like: what counts as a combatant in an unconventional, asymmetrical war? Does killing terrorists decrease terrorism or increase it by making more and angrier terrorists? To what extent does judicial review undermine the secrecy, security and timeliness of a military response to intelligence? To what extent does the precedent set by the policy alter existing legal protections and is this change good of bad? What about the psychological impact of the persistent fear of an unexpected drone strike? What about the change in incentives involved in fighting wars where one side doesn’t risk loss of life?
And so on. There is little reason to expect the answers of many of these issues and questions to be correlate. The only way to be particularly surprised that someone supports both these positions is if you understand these positions in an entirely symbolical way. I understand that most people choose their political positions mostly for signaling one thing or another and than just find ways to answer these questions in a way that is congruent that position. But you definitely shouldn’t be that perplexed by someone who doesn’t.
I’m not discussing the people creating policies, but the people supporting them. I’m not discussing implementation of those policies, even, but again, simple support.
I don’t expect implementations to correlate with their intention, but I do expect the -intentions- to correlate.
I’m not arguing with an anthropomorphization of the political process or utilitarian philosophy, after all, I’m arguing with real people who have real ideas about how the world should operate. In order to argue effectively, I have to understand what their intentions are—my goal is not merely to prove somebody wrong, it’s to change their mind. And starting with the implementation is backwards; you don’t navigate from where you were to where you are, you navigate from where you are to where you want to be. First and foremost I need to know where this person wants the world to be.
And in this case, the intentions I can see conflict.
You have to have beliefs about the world and how it works before you can have intentions to change it. I’m sure just about everyone would rather live in a place where no one was killed and everyone has their health cared for. People who oppose “universal healthcare” don’t usually want poor people to suffer: they just expect a whole host of problems to come with treating healthcare as a right and not a good. People who want extra-judicial drone assassinations of citizens aren’t particularly concerned with the State being empowered who can live or die. They just want to prevent terrorist attacks.
To extend your analogy: before deciding to navigate anywhere you still have to have beliefs about what the sea is, where the coastline is, how deep the water is, what the weather is like, how to manage the crew, what to do with the anchor, the rudder and the sails, general beliefs about the accuracy of your maps and navigational equipment, beliefs about what life is like at your new destination and whether it is worth the risks you’ll encounter a long the way and even whether or not it is a place you will want to live or do business in, beliefs about the possibility of it changing once you get there. Not to mention all sorts of possibilities you probably haven’t even thought of yet because your scientists haven’t developed the germ theory of disease and you’re about bring Small Pox and centuries of genocide and colonialism to a continent you didn’t even know existed because the world is twice as large as you thought it was! But hey, at least you intended to reach the Indies and make Spain wealthy.
Intentions are worthless if you don’t know what you’re talking about and they change radically when you do. It sounds like you’re trying to comprehend other people’s political views through the framework of your own political philosophy. But there is nothing inherent or necessary about that framework.
As far as I can tell, you’re arguing that I should undertake to understand somebody’s beliefs about the positioning of all 214,000 miles of coastline in the world before I try to understand their intentions about where they’re navigating to.
So, to sum up my response: It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know where they think the coastlines are; all I need to know is that they want to go to Jamaica because the weather is nice. And then the information that a hurricane is coming through becomes relevant. If they’re going to Jamaica to deliver medical supplies in preparation for that hurricane, that piece of information doesn’t add anything.
You seem to be proposing that in an argument about politics, I should engage in a depth-first search. Here’s the issue: I can knock down all of their arguments, and change not a thing in their mind. No matter how many “How” arguments are defeated, there are an infinite more laying in wait. To change a mind, you must address the -Why-. You must direct your arguments to their motivations.
You seem to be suggesting I should argue with somebody like this:
“You’re going to travel up the sound? You’ll hit rocks during low tide, and it looks like that’s when you’ll be going through. You should go around. And this dock in your itinerary is closed this time of year; you’ll need to refuel over here instead. That restaurant right there has terrible food; you should eat here instead...” And so on and so forth, when a good argument might go...
“Oh, you’re trying to travel to the peninsula? You’d be better off driving there, the sea route is really inhospitable.”
Intentions are destinations. If you don’t know what you’re talking about, sure, they’re worthless—but whether you know what you’re talking about or not, it’s completely useless to analyze a route if you don’t know where that route is intended to lead.
you’re arguing that I should undertake to understand somebody’s beliefs about the positioning of all 214,000 miles of coastline in the world before I try to understand their intentions about where they’re navigating to
I’m not arguing that and I think it’s a pretty blatant strawman and that nearly any independent observer of this exchange would agree. This makes me pretty averse to continuing this conversation.
You seem to be proposing that in an argument about politics, I should engage in a depth-first search. Here’s the issue: I can knock down all of their arguments, and change not a thing in their mind. No matter how many “How” arguments are defeated, there are an infinite more laying in wait. To change a mind, you must address the -Why-. You must direct your arguments to their motivations.
No. I think one should never ever engage in an argument about politics to try to change someone’s mind unless your interlocutor is that very peculiar individual who will alter their beliefs based on new evidence. To the extent the above description is true it is evidence that people don’t form political opinions based on evidence and that’s a good time to stop arguing with someone about their opinions.
all I need to know is that they want to go to Jamaica because the weather is nice.
The weather is nice in Haiti too. Also, in High Communist Cuba and (parts of) apartheid South Africa. “Opposing universal health care” is like “opposing going to Haiti”. “Sure it the weather sounds nice but you’ve overlooked dozens of other issues”. It doesn’t usually mean you’re opposed to nice weather.
It wasn’t my intention to strawman you. If my interpretations of your arguments are incorrect, I have absolutely no idea what you’re trying to convey, except possibly a big “It’s complicated!” - which I don’t disagree with, and if that’s supposed to be a counterargument, it’s misdirected.
As for people discarding evidence, proving “Brand A of universal healthcare is Bad” doesn’t say anything about brands B-Z—again, my point is that you seem to be suggesting I should focus on implementation (or is that a strawman?) details rather than the intentions of that implementation. Disproving implementations does nothing.
For example, I could argue (ignore the truth value of this statement, please) that the PPACA necessitates or enables Death Panels, but this isn’t an argument against universal healthcare, only one particular -implementation-. It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or false for purposes of arguing about universal healthcare more broadly.
As for people discarding evidence, proving “Brand A of universal healthcare is Bad” doesn’t say anything about brands B-Z
There are obviously possible counter arguments that demonstrate that a vast majority set of possible implementations are bad. The possible implementations of any intention are likely to share a number of crucial parts. There are only so many ways to get to a place. E.g. If I think more health care harms health outcomes as much as it helps then I am going to oppose any implementation that involves subsidizing health care. And of course I could have as many such arguments as I like. If I have fifty arguments that, combined, show that all the possibly implementations of universal health care are harmful than I have good reason to oppose the intention of implementing universal health care. And I don’t have to exhaust all the possibilities: I just have to have never heard of an implementation plan that I didn’t think would be bad.
Not to mention: “universal health care” doesn’t actually mean “everyone gets the health care they need” it means something like, “everyone gets the health care they need through some new government mechanism”. “Increase per capita GDP and lower health care costs though economic growth until everyone can afford what they need” might the best way to get everyone covered, but it would never be called “a plan for universal health care”.
Obviously, “that rout to Jamaica is tricky, you can’t go South there” is not an objection to the basic idea of going to Jamaica. But “Jamaica is a terrible place” is. So is “40% of people who try to get to Jamaica die en route”. So is “we don’t have that kind of money”. So is “Jamaica will turn you away at the border and it is too dangerous to sneak in”. “I don’t like nice weather” is also a basic objection. But it’s an uncommon one and mere opposition to going to Jamaica is a really bad indicator that someone doesn’t like sunny days.
I’m not saying you need to determine every detail of the implementation of a policy before counting oneself in favor of something. But policy goals are not determined in the abstract. There are important, basic facts about economics, human nature, and government that yield heuristics about what policy goals are beneficial and which are harmful.
One represents a belief in an inviolable positive right to life and health, the other represents a belief that life exists solely at the discretion of society/authority.
Note that I distinguish between single-provider/government-provided healthcare and universal healthcare. Somebody who wants government in charge of healthcare isn’t necessarily someone who believes in universal access to it.
These are not the only possible intentions behind these policies, and not all support or opposition to them is based on those particular intentions.
In particular I suspect most of the supporters of universal healthcare think of it as a positive right to life/health, whereas most of it’s opponents think of it as a issue of governmental power.
Similarly, I suspect supporters of drone strikes think of it in terms of justice and/or preventing terrorism, whereas most of it’s opponents think of it as a issue of governmental power.
Thus people who don’t see governmental power as a problem, or are simply not inclined to think about it and its implications are likely to be more favorable to both.
First, the actual policies that aim at providing universal healthcare including cost-cutting measures of one kind or another. These measures, by their very nature, involve restricting what kind and how much medical care a person can receive and when they can receive it. The politically loaded term is “rationing”. The State is going tell you what you can and cannot buy with their money. The politically loaded term is “death panel”. Neither of which I, personally, see anything wrong with. But since policies designed to establish universal health care tend to involve taxing people I can certainly see how some would see it as a expansion of society’s discretion regarding life and health.
Second and more important: these aren’t symbols for abstract ideas about political philosophy. They are actual policies that are created by real governments and implemented by actual people. Any justification for either of them --regardless of one’s terminal values—will involve a complex synthesis of information from a wide set of domains. A position on universal healthcare, for instance, involves thinking about incentives for individuals, doctors, pharmaceutical companies, hospitals etc. E.g. what happens to prices when the person receiving the good isn’t footing the bill and what happens to behavior when the actor isn’t paying for the consequences of that behavior. If there are cost lowering measures: how do you determine what to pay for or who do you trust to determine it? What will the effect of these measures be on experimental procedures and will this harm innovation? If the country needs to borrow to pay for health care what will the effect be on the country’s economy? What about all the other ways to spend that money?
Drone warfare involves different complex questions like: what counts as a combatant in an unconventional, asymmetrical war? Does killing terrorists decrease terrorism or increase it by making more and angrier terrorists? To what extent does judicial review undermine the secrecy, security and timeliness of a military response to intelligence? To what extent does the precedent set by the policy alter existing legal protections and is this change good of bad? What about the psychological impact of the persistent fear of an unexpected drone strike? What about the change in incentives involved in fighting wars where one side doesn’t risk loss of life?
And so on. There is little reason to expect the answers of many of these issues and questions to be correlate. The only way to be particularly surprised that someone supports both these positions is if you understand these positions in an entirely symbolical way. I understand that most people choose their political positions mostly for signaling one thing or another and than just find ways to answer these questions in a way that is congruent that position. But you definitely shouldn’t be that perplexed by someone who doesn’t.
I’m not discussing the people creating policies, but the people supporting them. I’m not discussing implementation of those policies, even, but again, simple support.
I don’t expect implementations to correlate with their intention, but I do expect the -intentions- to correlate.
I’m not arguing with an anthropomorphization of the political process or utilitarian philosophy, after all, I’m arguing with real people who have real ideas about how the world should operate. In order to argue effectively, I have to understand what their intentions are—my goal is not merely to prove somebody wrong, it’s to change their mind. And starting with the implementation is backwards; you don’t navigate from where you were to where you are, you navigate from where you are to where you want to be. First and foremost I need to know where this person wants the world to be.
And in this case, the intentions I can see conflict.
You have to have beliefs about the world and how it works before you can have intentions to change it. I’m sure just about everyone would rather live in a place where no one was killed and everyone has their health cared for. People who oppose “universal healthcare” don’t usually want poor people to suffer: they just expect a whole host of problems to come with treating healthcare as a right and not a good. People who want extra-judicial drone assassinations of citizens aren’t particularly concerned with the State being empowered who can live or die. They just want to prevent terrorist attacks.
To extend your analogy: before deciding to navigate anywhere you still have to have beliefs about what the sea is, where the coastline is, how deep the water is, what the weather is like, how to manage the crew, what to do with the anchor, the rudder and the sails, general beliefs about the accuracy of your maps and navigational equipment, beliefs about what life is like at your new destination and whether it is worth the risks you’ll encounter a long the way and even whether or not it is a place you will want to live or do business in, beliefs about the possibility of it changing once you get there. Not to mention all sorts of possibilities you probably haven’t even thought of yet because your scientists haven’t developed the germ theory of disease and you’re about bring Small Pox and centuries of genocide and colonialism to a continent you didn’t even know existed because the world is twice as large as you thought it was! But hey, at least you intended to reach the Indies and make Spain wealthy.
Intentions are worthless if you don’t know what you’re talking about and they change radically when you do. It sounds like you’re trying to comprehend other people’s political views through the framework of your own political philosophy. But there is nothing inherent or necessary about that framework.
As far as I can tell, you’re arguing that I should undertake to understand somebody’s beliefs about the positioning of all 214,000 miles of coastline in the world before I try to understand their intentions about where they’re navigating to.
So, to sum up my response: It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know where they think the coastlines are; all I need to know is that they want to go to Jamaica because the weather is nice. And then the information that a hurricane is coming through becomes relevant. If they’re going to Jamaica to deliver medical supplies in preparation for that hurricane, that piece of information doesn’t add anything.
You seem to be proposing that in an argument about politics, I should engage in a depth-first search. Here’s the issue: I can knock down all of their arguments, and change not a thing in their mind. No matter how many “How” arguments are defeated, there are an infinite more laying in wait. To change a mind, you must address the -Why-. You must direct your arguments to their motivations.
You seem to be suggesting I should argue with somebody like this:
“You’re going to travel up the sound? You’ll hit rocks during low tide, and it looks like that’s when you’ll be going through. You should go around. And this dock in your itinerary is closed this time of year; you’ll need to refuel over here instead. That restaurant right there has terrible food; you should eat here instead...” And so on and so forth, when a good argument might go...
“Oh, you’re trying to travel to the peninsula? You’d be better off driving there, the sea route is really inhospitable.”
Intentions are destinations. If you don’t know what you’re talking about, sure, they’re worthless—but whether you know what you’re talking about or not, it’s completely useless to analyze a route if you don’t know where that route is intended to lead.
I’m not arguing that and I think it’s a pretty blatant strawman and that nearly any independent observer of this exchange would agree. This makes me pretty averse to continuing this conversation.
No. I think one should never ever engage in an argument about politics to try to change someone’s mind unless your interlocutor is that very peculiar individual who will alter their beliefs based on new evidence. To the extent the above description is true it is evidence that people don’t form political opinions based on evidence and that’s a good time to stop arguing with someone about their opinions.
The weather is nice in Haiti too. Also, in High Communist Cuba and (parts of) apartheid South Africa. “Opposing universal health care” is like “opposing going to Haiti”. “Sure it the weather sounds nice but you’ve overlooked dozens of other issues”. It doesn’t usually mean you’re opposed to nice weather.
It wasn’t my intention to strawman you. If my interpretations of your arguments are incorrect, I have absolutely no idea what you’re trying to convey, except possibly a big “It’s complicated!” - which I don’t disagree with, and if that’s supposed to be a counterargument, it’s misdirected.
As for people discarding evidence, proving “Brand A of universal healthcare is Bad” doesn’t say anything about brands B-Z—again, my point is that you seem to be suggesting I should focus on implementation (or is that a strawman?) details rather than the intentions of that implementation. Disproving implementations does nothing.
For example, I could argue (ignore the truth value of this statement, please) that the PPACA necessitates or enables Death Panels, but this isn’t an argument against universal healthcare, only one particular -implementation-. It doesn’t matter whether it’s true or false for purposes of arguing about universal healthcare more broadly.
There are obviously possible counter arguments that demonstrate that a vast majority set of possible implementations are bad. The possible implementations of any intention are likely to share a number of crucial parts. There are only so many ways to get to a place. E.g. If I think more health care harms health outcomes as much as it helps then I am going to oppose any implementation that involves subsidizing health care. And of course I could have as many such arguments as I like. If I have fifty arguments that, combined, show that all the possibly implementations of universal health care are harmful than I have good reason to oppose the intention of implementing universal health care. And I don’t have to exhaust all the possibilities: I just have to have never heard of an implementation plan that I didn’t think would be bad.
Not to mention: “universal health care” doesn’t actually mean “everyone gets the health care they need” it means something like, “everyone gets the health care they need through some new government mechanism”. “Increase per capita GDP and lower health care costs though economic growth until everyone can afford what they need” might the best way to get everyone covered, but it would never be called “a plan for universal health care”.
Obviously, “that rout to Jamaica is tricky, you can’t go South there” is not an objection to the basic idea of going to Jamaica. But “Jamaica is a terrible place” is. So is “40% of people who try to get to Jamaica die en route”. So is “we don’t have that kind of money”. So is “Jamaica will turn you away at the border and it is too dangerous to sneak in”. “I don’t like nice weather” is also a basic objection. But it’s an uncommon one and mere opposition to going to Jamaica is a really bad indicator that someone doesn’t like sunny days.
I’m not saying you need to determine every detail of the implementation of a policy before counting oneself in favor of something. But policy goals are not determined in the abstract. There are important, basic facts about economics, human nature, and government that yield heuristics about what policy goals are beneficial and which are harmful.