Monday, 26 November 2018

A Christmas Carol (2018)


A lady fellow denizen of a forum I inhabit recently published an article entitled “Why All the Depressing Christmas Songs?” I can see her point; there’s a lot of rubbish “music” around with some attempt at a Christmas theme. There are also, however, still some pretty decent Christmas tunes. As a tuba player in a brass band, I usually have a busy December playing this music in various places – from churches to shopping centres to care homes – not to mention standing outside in the cold under a lamp-post! (Fortunately, we don’t do as many of those last as we used to).

We play all the old favourites of course: Hark the Herald, Silent Night, O Come all ye Faithful, and others that people can sing along to. We often finish with Jingle Bells, starting quite slowly but getting faster and faster and faster! We also do some of the less well known, and often more complex, tunes from the carol books, as well as arrangements of some more modern Christmas “classics.”

But because I’m an arranger and composer as well as a player, I have another string to my bow at Christmas. Since 2014, BBC Radio 3 has held a carol composers’ contest. The idea is that they publish a poem, and people send in their settings of those words for SATB (soprano, alto, tenor, bass) choir, with or without piano accompaniment. Out of usually several hundred entries, the BBC then shortlist the six they consider best, their singers record them, and the recordings are published on the BBC website. People can then vote for the one they think is the best of all. All six get played in the week or so leading up to Christmas, and the winner will be sung live on air a few days before Christmas, then the recording played many times on Christmas Day.

I heard that I was not far off the short list in 2016, and this year I had even higher hopes, as I had a late draft of my carol run through a local church choir, and the message I got back from their musical director was “Potential winner.” Sadly, it still didn’t make the short list, but that’s the BBC for you. Nevertheless, I thought it might be worth publishing the score here, so those of you who are choral singers can try it. It’s only five pages long.

The words, I admit, are a bit naff – that was another of the comments I got from the choir. But the blame for that lies, not with me, but with Carol Ann Duffy, the UK’s current Poet Laureate, who wrote these words in 2011. (See https://wordverseuniverse.wordpress.com/2014/12/25/the-bee-carol-duffy/ for the original words). But I hope that people will find my music to those words, albeit a slow melody and written in the minor key, to be fun to sing, and in no way depressing!

So, here’s the music:







Sunday, 11 November 2018

On Riches and Poverty

We hear a lot of sneers directed at the rich. Like “the 1 per cent,” “greedy” or “fat cats.” Today, I’ll ask: To what extent do the rich deserve these insults? Then, I’ll look at poverty, and ask: Why are so many people poor? And how might the problem of undeserved poverty be solved?

First, is being “rich” a relative or an absolute thing? Were, for example, the Roman emperors rich? At one level, they were indeed rich; they had far more money and resources than the people around them. At another level, because of economic expansion over the centuries, many Western people today can afford things the Roman emperors could not have dreamed of. Beef from Argentina, bacon from Denmark, wine from Chile, or out-of-season fruit from Morocco, for example. So, while absolute standard of living is important in determining whether or not someone is “rich,” it’s also necessary to look at what they enjoy relative to those around them.

I’ll briefly re-cap the economic fundamentals. It is natural for convivial human beings to create well-being. That is, to deliver what others are voluntarily willing to pay for. There are many ways to do this; every one of us must find the way or ways that best suits us. To support this vital function, and to encourage it to continue, a framework is necessary, in which each individual will receive just rewards in exchange for his or her skills and efforts.

In an earlier essay I identified four things this framework must provide. First, sound money. Second, property rights. Third, a system which implements objective, individual justice; that is, the condition in which each individual is treated, in the round and as far as practicable, as he or she treats others. And fourth, a free market, in which there are no arbitrary barriers or obstacles to who may trade and with whom.

There is, however, a fifth condition necessary before people can flourish economically; and that is a negative condition. Unlike today, there must be no privileged political class, that has the power to bleed individuals and the economy, and to use the proceeds for their own selfish gain, to enrich their supporters and cronies, or to fund their pet – and often nefarious – projects.

Riches

So, how can people become rich, or at least comfortably off? There are several ways. First, and very much foremost, by earning it. That is, by creating wealth through honest work and business in the free market. Not only is this by far the most praiseworthy means of building personal wealth; but it’s also the one which is natural for convivial human beings. In a free market with justice, good people can fully enjoy the well-being, which they have justly earned through delivering what others are voluntarily willing to pay for.

Unfortunately, the rapacious political classes and their cronies make it forever harder and harder for people to reap the rewards they deserve for their good work. They see the profit from honest business – that is, the excess of the value produced for others over the costs of producing that value – as a bad thing, not the unmitigated good which it really is. They seek to re-direct as much of that profit as they can to themselves, and to their cronies and supporters. To make things worse, many new business ventures today fail before they ever really get going. And for professionals (like me) who have developed strong and saleable skills, it’s worse yet; we are denied access to the market by bad, political “laws” that favour big companies over small ones.

A second way to get rich is through luck. For example, by inheriting the millions that Daddy earned, or by winning a big lottery prize. There is nothing wrong with these; but for obvious reasons, very few get rich in such ways. A third way to get rich is through canny investment; by providing resources to people who will use them well, in exchange for a share of the profits. The problem here is, that you must be already quite well off in order to do this at all.

Moving down the scale, another way to bring in money – often in large quantities – is to suck wealth out of the system like a parasite. For example, through asset stripping of companies, or through becoming adept at corporate politics. Further down again is scheming, gaming the system to your own advantage. For example, accepting subsidies, or lobbying for advantages or to harm your competitors. Then there is the criminal means; such as theft, fraud, intimidation and violence, as practiced by organizations like the Mafia. And at the very bottom of the scale is what Franz Oppenheimer called the “political means,” in essence, legalized robbery.

It’s plain from all this that – luck aside – it is extremely hard for anyone to become rich without either already being rich, or taking money from others by means parasitic, criminal or political. Thus, sneers directed at the rich are entirely justified, if their riches have been acquired by such means. Meanwhile, those who deserve to be comfortably off, or even to become rich, are drained of their earnings and life-chances by the criminal political class and their parasites and cronies. Further, these good people are often the targets of hatred and slurs from those that are draining them dry. So the rich get richer, the poor don’t get any better off, and those in the middle get screwed.

Poverty

The opposite of rich is poor. And like riches, poverty has both absolute and relative aspects. Clearly, in those Western countries which have had a history of relative economic freedom, most people are better off than those in third world countries with no such history. This is not surprising; for social structures, that are based on political power and cronyism rather than on the free market, virtually always result in a few rich and very many poor.

There are many reasons why individuals are, or become, poor. But all of them can, I think, be put into one of four categories. One, lack of access to the free market. Two, lack of ability to create wealth or well-being. Three, lack of just reward. And four, debt.

Lack of access to the free market can be due to a variety of causes. For example: Wars or political oppression. Regulatory burden, such as business licensing, or bad laws made to favour some economic actors over others. Tariffs, prohibitions or sanctions. Anti-business culture. Or minimum wage legislation, which prevents people not yet skilled enough to be worth the minimum wage from getting jobs at all. It’s sobering to realize that most, if not all, of these causes of lack of access to the free market are down to acts of political governments.

As to lack of ability to create wealth, there are two main groups of causes. First, things which are the individual’s own fault. For example, if they’re too lazy or too dishonest to use Franz Oppenheimer’s “economic means,” that is, honest work and fair exchange. And second, things which are no-one’s fault, like accident, illness or disability.

Lack of just reward can sometimes be caused by exploitation of the individual, for example by abusive management or by criminals. But more often, it’s caused by political action. For example, by heavy taxation. Or by deliberate currency inflation, making it impossible for people’s savings to keep pace with ever rising prices. Or by a dishonest, unstable banking and financial system. Or by a lack of respect for property rights.

Lastly, debt can be a self-caused source of poverty, such as when individuals have spent on credit beyond their means, or done real damage to others for which they must pay compensation. But debt for individuals can also be brought about by the deliberate actions of others. For example, overblown damages or maintenance payments imposed by a politicized legal system. Or a corrupt, gluttonous state that seeks any means possible to force its debts on to those it rules over.

Solutions to poverty

To look for solutions to poverty, I’ll re-arrange the causes I listed above according to who is at fault for each.

If an individual is poor through that individual’s own fault, the remedy is in the individual’s own hands. No more need be said than: reform your conduct, get earning, and if you’re still in debt, pull yourself out of it.

If, however, individuals are poor through someone else’s fault, then it must be the responsibility of those at fault to fix the problem. In today’s system, those at fault – common criminals excepted – are almost always the political class, their henchpersons or their corporate cronies. But the framework of justice, which I outlined above, would solve the great majority of these problems. Removing political operators and their cronies from positions of power and privilege, bringing them to justice as they deserve, and making them compensate their victims, would go a long way towards achieving this. And the combination of sound money, freedom of trade, property rights and objective justice will then be able to fix the problem for good.

Where individuals’ poverty is no-one’s fault, then it is appropriate to set up systems of insurance or mutual aid. Such schemes existed in the 19th century, for example the friendly societies. But they were elbowed out by politicized welfare states.

Welfare is a large subject, which demands an essay in itself.  But in the framework of justice I described, re-vitalization of private welfare schemes is one of three elements which I think can help to cure poverty. The second is removal of disincentives to saving for the future. And the third is non-politicized means of education and training for whatever skills are in demand. These elements together should be enough to ensure that no-one becomes poor through no fault of their own. But even so, voluntary charity is always available as a final back-stop.

To sum up

Today, a rapacious political class makes it far harder than it ought to be for people who deserve to be comfortably off, or even rich, to get what they deserve. Instead, good people are ripped off, and the benefits go to the state and its political class, and their cronies and supporters. The rich get richer, the poor don’t get any better off, and those in the middle get screwed.

Many of those, who today are rich, have not earned their riches, but got them through parasitism, cronyism or politics. Such individuals fully deserve all the sneers and slurs that we hear so often directed at “the rich.”

Undeserved poverty is often the fault of individuals and groups other than the people who are made poor. Leaving aside laziness and dishonesty, most poverty is caused by the acts of political governments and their parasites and cronies.

The problem of undeserved poverty can be solved by a combination of the following: Sound money. Property rights. Objective justice. The free market. Removal of the political class and their cronies from their positions of power and privilege, and bringing them to justice. Removal of disincentives to saving. Re-vitalization of private systems of insurance and mutual aid. And de-politicized systems of education and training.

Saturday, 27 October 2018

Is all we're told a fake?

(By the Darn-Poor Rhymer - With apologies to the Bard)
(With minor updates - 28 Oct 2018)

Is all we're told a fake?
Are all the so-called “experts” merely liars?
They have their tricks and clever arguments,
And one man in his time learns many arts.
His thoughts move in six stages. First, the newbie,
His gaze, his ear, his mind glued to the screen,
Believing all he’s told. And then the troll,
Crying “fake news,” and “bull,” and “balderdash,”
Annoying and insulting all in range,
Until no-one will listen. Then the follower,
Searching for wisdom in the godless depths
Of someone else’s arcane religion,
While parroting its credos. Then the warrior,
Shouting his narrative at top of voice,
Augmenting it with copious references
To sources just as biased as himself,
Using his subtle tricks and clever ruses
To seek to sow the seeds of doubt and guilt,
And rarely giving ground to others’ views;
But never once considering the thought
That it might be him, not his opponent,
Who has it wrong. The fifth stage shifts
To the truth seeker, doing what he can
To find the facts, and piece together truths,
And spread these truths to those willing and able
To listen to them. Sixth comes the free man.
Able to govern self, to live and let live;
Free from all need for politics or laws,
Free from all wish for violence or aggression,
Free from desire to lie, insult or slur,
Reciprocating others’ tolerance,
And judging people, not by who they are,
But what they do.

Way back in Shakespeare’s time
There was a seventh stage, of slow decline;
But as I look out, it’s a sunny day,
And so, I think, that’s all I have to say.

Wednesday, 24 October 2018

What I Deny, and What I Do Not Deny

Recently, we’ve been bombarded by lots of hyped stories about global warming and climate change. (Not to mention pollution and “endangered species.”) There seems to be yet another concerted push by alarmists in governments, academe and media to try to make us accept draconian green policies that are based on nothing provably real. And more and more often, I find myself being castigated as a “denier.”

I thought it worth putting on the record my views on the matter; what I deny, and what I do not deny. I do this in the hope that those minded to call me “denier” may come to understand better my disagreements with the alarmist line. Perhaps, even, some may feel able to provide specific, objective evidence that I am wrong in one or more of my statements.

What I Do Not Deny

  1. I do not deny that there is such a thing as climate. I am not a “climate denier.”

  2. I do not deny that historically the Earth’s climate has changed, or that it is still changing. I am not a “climate change denier.”

  3. I do not deny that, according to historical temperature records, there has been a general tendency towards warming over the last 400 years or so. I am not a “global warming denier.”

  4. I do not deny that human activities affect the Earth’s climate to some extent; if only through urban heat islands.

  5. I do not deny that there is a plausible scientific hypothesis, according to which emissions of carbon dioxide, methane and other gases by human civilization might lead to some amount of warming, which would not have happened otherwise. I am not a “science denier.”

  6. I do not deny that the amount of carbon dioxide in the Earth’s atmosphere has, very probably, increased over the last 200 or so years.

  7. I do not deny that some, or perhaps much, of that increase in carbon dioxide has been due to human activities.

  8. I do not deny that, should the consequences of such a warming be proven beyond reasonable doubt to be a nett disbenefit to humankind, there is a case to be made for action to reduce or mitigate the disbenefit. Provided, of course, that the costs of the action are no greater than the disbenefit it is supposed to cure.

  9. I do not deny that I have a responsibility to compensate those to whom I cause significant and unjust harm through environmental or other side effects of my freely willed, uncoerced actions. Provided, of course, that they accept their responsibility to do the same for me.

  10. I do not deny that I can sometimes be wrong.
What I Deny
  1. I deny that the allegation that human activities are causing, or will in the foreseeable future cause, substantial global warming with catastrophic consequences (for example, through coastal flooding or more and stronger hurricanes) has been proven beyond reasonable doubt.

  2. I deny that the hypothesis, that a small temperature rise caused by human activities would lead to a much larger or even a runaway rise due to climate system feedbacks, is consistent with what is known about the Earth’s climate history.

  3. I deny that there is proof beyond reasonable doubt that any global temperature rise caused by human activities would be significantly greater than the likely effects of non-human-caused climate variations over a similar time period.

  4. I deny that, even if human activities were to cause a moderate amount (a few degrees C) of global warming, there is objective evidence that the nett effect on the planet and on human civilization would be negative. Indeed, human civilization has tended to thrive in past warm periods, such as the Minoan and the Roman.

  5. I deny that, even if human activities did cause some global warming and that warming did have some nett negative effects, the costs of the schemes currently implemented or proposed to reduce or mitigate these effects would be any less than the benefits from the mitigation. Very probably, the costs will be (indeed, they already are) hugely greater than any “benefits.”

  6. I deny that any reasonable interpretation of the precautionary principle can require any such mitigation action to be taken without first making an honest, objective and accurate comparison of the costs and benefits of the action.

  7. I deny that any reasonable interpretation of the precautionary principle can require any political action to be taken on a matter unless and until the science on that matter is good enough to do an objective and accurate cost-benefit analysis.

  8. I deny that any reasonable interpretation of the precautionary principle can shift the burden of proof in any matter away from those that seek political action towards those who would be negatively affected by such action, or can negate the general presumption of “innocent until proven guilty.”

  9. I deny that in situations where facts are uncertain, values are in dispute, stakes are high or decisions are claimed to be urgent, there should be any lessening of the rigour with which risk analysis should be done. Indeed, such situations increase the need for risks to be assessed objectively and accurately.

  10. I deny that there is something called “the environment” that has “rights” that override the rights of human beings to live and act according to our nature.

  11. I deny that I am obliged to feel any kind of communal guilt over unproven negative effects on the planet that may be, might be, or might in the future be, caused by human civilization.

  12. I deny that those driving the “global warming” and other environmental scares truly have any concern for Western civilization or for the people in it.

  13. I deny that the conduct of the “science” on matters such as global warming and pollution has been always honest and in accord with the scientific method.

  14. I deny that the general standard of reporting on these matters by alarmist organizations, the academic establishment or the mainstream media has been truthful, unbiased and honest.

  15. I deny that, in these matters, governments have been open and honest, and have acted in good faith towards the people they are supposed to “represent.”

  16. I deny that any amount of hype, posturing or repetition from politicians, academics, media or anyone else can make a falsehood into a truth.

Thursday, 27 September 2018

On Money, Power and Taxation

Power and money, money and power,
Which is stronger, money or power?
Money can give you a lifetime of honey,
But power allows you to steal others’ money.

Today, I’ll look at money, political power, and the relations between them.

How the economy should be

I’ll begin with a re-cap on how the world economy ought to work for all peaceful, honest, convivial human beings.

At the root of all economic activity is the creation of well-being. As I’ve said before, there is no nobler human activity than delivering what others are voluntarily willing to pay for. To get our own needs and desires satisfied, we trade with others the well-being we create. Thus, each of us creates a flow of wealth to those we trade with, and receives in return a corresponding flow of wealth. And if we are convivial people, we will always act with honesty and good faith, and strive to fulfil the promises we have voluntarily made.

There are many ways in which individuals can create wealth. For example, they can be direct producers, applying their labour and their skills to delivering products or services. They can be entrepreneurs or managers, organizing themselves and others to produce. They can be seekers of objective knowledge. They can be advancers of human capability; for example, teachers, engineers, technologists and other innovators. They can provide support to others, so making them more effective at their own wealth creation. In all these areas, in their own different ways, people co-operate with others, and compete to make themselves as effective as possible.

If any economy is to fulfil its potential, it needs several supports. One of these is sound money. Money is, in essence, an IOU backed by the wealth of the issuer. As long as the issuer remains solvent and honest, it can be used as a medium of exchange, as a unit of account, or as a store of value. A second support is property rights. These rights must ensure that money, land, goods and other wealth, which have been justly earned and have not been traded or given away, remain under the control of those who earned them, and are not unjustly taken by others. A third support is a system of objective justice, to hold to account those that cause damage to others, or subject them to unreasonable risks, or try to cheat them, or fail to deliver their side of the bargain.

The fourth support for a well functioning economy is the free market. In a truly free market, no-one is prevented from justly acquiring, or justly using, wealth. There are no arbitrary barriers or obstacles to the provision of goods or services. There are no arbitrary restrictions on what, or with whom, individuals may trade – or, indeed, not trade if they so choose. There are no tariffs on goods or services crossing arbitrary boundaries. And there are no taxes beyond what is strictly necessary to support the framework of property rights and justice, which underlies the free market. Further, there must be no political agendas that suppress the economy, or that favour some groups or individuals over others. And, in particular, there must be no policies that favour political actors, or their cronies, over others.

Franz Oppenheimer’s insight

That’s how the economy should be – isn’t it? But the economic system, under which we suffer today, isn’t even remotely like that. A clue as to why has been given us by the German Jewish sociologist, Franz Oppenheimer. In his 1908 book The State, he writes: “There are two fundamentally opposed means whereby man, requiring sustenance, is impelled to obtain the necessary means for satisfying his desires. These are work and robbery, one’s own labor and the forcible appropriation of the labor of others.”

Oppenheimer gave the name the economic means to “the equivalent exchange of one’s own labor for the labor of others.” In contrast, the political means is “the unrequited appropriation of the labor of others.” And he made his view of the state very clear, writing: “The state is an organization of the political means.” Otherwise said, the state is a professional robber.

Oppenheimer’s assessment is spot on. For the 16th-century monarchist Frenchman Jean Bodin, in his Six Books of the Commonwealth, created the blueprint for the “Westphalian” system of nation states, under which we still suffer. And he listed, among the rights of a monarch: “taxing, or granting privileges of exemption to all subjects” and “appreciating or depreciating the value and weight of the coinage.”

Links between money and power

At one level, money is power; the power to do what you want. It gives you the power to make choices. To decide where you will go on holiday, or what form of transport you will take, for example. On the other hand, lack of money leads to lack of power. If you can’t afford a holiday, there is no point searching the brochures. If you can’t afford to drive a car, you will have to take the bus, or even walk. You have lost your power of choice.

Money can be used in good ways, or in bad. When used in good ways – for example, as the medium of exchange in a voluntary transaction – it benefits all parties to the transaction. You get to enjoy your holiday; and the people who provided it to you can enjoy in return something they want. But money can also be misused. It can be used to pay for propaganda, or to lobby for the imposition of political agendas or the realization of pet projects. It can be used to seek political power; or to buy favours from those that have such power. It can be used to fuel schemes that take away others’ money, or otherwise violate their rights.

In the reverse direction, power – political power – can be used, either directly or indirectly, to get money. Most obviously, when corrupt political actors seek maximum money for themselves with zero or minimum effort. But power also allows the actor to set “policies,” to court favourites, and to victimize those he disfavours. He can advantage the state – as through very low interest rates – and he can bring about enrichment of some groups of people at the expense of others. He can favour his supporters, lavishly reward his cronies, and impoverish those he doesn’t like.

In this way, there grows a symbiosis between money and political power – some call it “the revolving door.” Power begets money for the powerful; and the rich and politically connected use their money to increase their power. But for the rest of us, just as lack of money leads to lack of power, lack of power leads to lack of money. Sham democracy notwithstanding, our lack of political power puts us all into danger of being dragged down into a poverty we do not deserve.

Some, especially those with a religious agenda, like to vilify money. “The love of money is the root of all evil,” they say. Now, the unjust acquisition of money – and in particular, the use of Oppenheimer’s political means – is an evil. But to use money according to the economic means, in which transactions are voluntary and to the benefit of all parties, is no evil. Indeed, the root of all evil is not the love of money, but the love of power. Power over others. Political power.

Bodin’s prescriptions for revenues

Next, I’ll try to show how this symbiosis of money and power is baked in to the Westphalian system. Bodin gave much advice to his monarchical friends on how to maximize their incomes. He identified seven sources of revenues. First, leasing the king’s lands in exchange for rents. Second, the profits of foreign conquests. Third, gifts from friends. Fourth, the protection racket; payments received in exchange for military “protection” in time of war. Fifth, engaging in commerce. Sixth, customs duties – “charging the merchants who import and export commodities.” Seventh and last, taxing the subject.

As to this last, Bodin wrote: “Do not levy taxes or impositions on your subjects, unless urgent and evident necessity forces you to it, and for some just cause, but not arbitrarily.” He suggested raising taxes on “luxuries and ornaments of all sorts, perfumes, cloth of gold and silver, silk, lace, fine tissues, gold and silver enamel, unnecessary articles of clothing, and scarlet, crimson and cochineal dyes and so forth.” And he exhorted: “It is better to make such things so expensive by heavy taxes that only the very rich and indulgent can afford them...”

Let’s see how well Bodin’s prescriptions have survived the test of time, shall we? Leasing land? Still a factor, though perhaps not as important as formerly. Foreign conquests? Well, yes. If you wonder why states with powerful militaries, such as the USA and formerly Britain, seem to have a burning desire for foreign wars at the slightest excuse, look no further than Bodin’s ideas. Follow the money! Gifts? These have been transmuted into the buying of favours, which I mentioned earlier.

The protection racket? This one has grown in size; it now extends to the “subjects” of the realm too. We are all expected to pay through the nose for a monopolistic “protection” service that is often of low quality, and may at any time be turned against us and used to oppress us. Engaging in commerce? Well, sort of; for example, in areas like education and health care. But the state doesn’t compete fairly in a free market. Instead, it seeks monopoly or near monopoly. What you get from this is what you see; bureaucratic, politicized and often failing. Customs? Tariffs and the like are still a big deal. And taxing the subject? Don’t make me sick.

Taxation today

Even Jean Bodin, could he but see what today’s political classes have done with the system he devised, might feel a pang of discomfort. Franz Oppenheimer, surely, would tear his hair out. Particularly since, at the time he wrote his book in 1908, the income tax – the biggest single imposition by the state on our economic lives – was still a gleam in the eyes of money-hungry statists. And when, just a few years later, they manufactured an excuse to impose an income tax, what did they do with the proceeds? They made a big war, in which 20 million people died. And things have only gone downhill from there.

How many different taxes do we suffer today? Even within a single nation, it must be in the hundreds. There are taxes on incomes. There are taxes on employment. There are taxes on transactions, for example value added taxes. There are taxes on company profits. There are taxes on capital gains. There are taxes on property. There are taxes on goods passing across arbitrary borders – and on people, too. There are inheritance taxes. There are commodity taxes – and not just on luxuries, either. There are “sin” taxes on things like alcohol and tobacco. There are local taxes and city taxes. There are climate levies, carbon “trading” schemes and many other green taxes. There are punitive and extortionate taxes on car drivers. And just about every week, you hear about new taxes – on soda pop or plastic bags, for example.

There is also the hidden tax of inflation. This goes back to Roman times, when emperors used to reduce the real value of their coins by putting into them less and less precious metal. More recently, as nation states have abandoned the gold standard, politicians have been able to issue “fiat money.” (Fiat is Latin for “let it be.”) Such money is cheap to print, and today it’s even easier to create just by modifying figures in a central bank’s computer. The first to get the new money – and most of all, the state – benefit from this Ponzi scheme, at the expense of those further down the chain. The result? In 50 years, the values of most currencies have fallen by a factor of more than 10. And prices have gone up to match. This is, in effect, a huge stealth tax on us, and most of all on the prudent people who have saved for their futures.

These are all instances of the use, by the state, of Franz Oppenheimer’s political means. That is, “the unrequited appropriation of the labor of others.” The oft heard argument that the state uses the money to do good things for the people, so you will eventually get back what you put in, is hokum. Surely, you might get a few worthwhile things, like some roads and a bit of health care. But at what cost? Once what you were forced to pay has been around the political and financial whirlpool a few times, it will be worth only a tiny fraction of its original value.

All these machinations, ultimately, are a big drain on you. Not just on your money, but also on your power; your power of choice. What taxation does, ultimately, is re-distribute wealth and power from the politically poor to the politically rich. From us to them.

Is taxation theft? No, it’s murder!

Some of my friends say “taxation is theft.” But they understate their case. Franz Oppenheimer’s word “robbery,” I think, better describes the violence and threats of violence, which underlie most of the state’s conduct. But I myself prefer a stronger word yet: murder.

Consider: your earned property and money represent part of your life. They represent the time and energy, which you used up in order to earn that property or money. Thus for the state to take away your money, without offering something of value to you in return – and that is what “unrequited” means – is to kill part of your life. It is clearly, too, a pre-meditated act; and a malicious one. And pre-meditated, malicious killing is murder. Thus: Taxation is murder.

To sum up

Our human economic system should be based on wealth creation and trade; the “economic means” as identified by Franz Oppenheimer. It must be backed up by sound money, property rights and an objective system of justice.

In contrast, the state uses the “political means.” Through taxation and currency inflation, it takes money from us, and offers little or nothing of value to us in return. And this amounts to murder – murder of the parts of our lives, which we used up in order to earn that money.

Saturday, 22 September 2018

The Grand Tour of Europe on a bicycle

It was August 1974. I had just finished my BA degree in mathematics at Cambridge. I already knew I had a First. I had been offered a place on “Part III”, a fourth year course unique to Cambridge mathematics, designed to get people to the frontiers of research as quickly as possible. I had turned it down, because after a decade and a half in schools of one kind or another – including nine years in single sex boarding schools, and three in a university which had ten or more male students to each female – I was sick and tired of academe.

I knew already that I was a third rate mathematician. Surely, I could have made a living at the game – I’m good at making complicated things understandable, to those who want to learn. But I knew I didn’t have what it took advance the frontiers of mathematics. So, I needed to clear my head, and work out what I really wanted to do.

My parents had, in their wisdom, saved a small nest-egg for me, to be paid out when I reached the age of 21. It came to about £750. In today’s money, I estimate that would be around £10,000. It bought me two things. My grand tour of Europe on a bicycle; with an account of which, I will regale you today. And later, my first car.

Prelude completed. So: on the 7th of August 1974, at about 10 am, I stood before the Great Gate of Trinity College, Cambridge, about to embark on my journey. My bicycle was a Raleigh 3-speed, which had been mine for 2 years already. I had used it on two significant trips with a friend. One in Wales – in January! And the second in France in April; we had cycled from Dieppe to Clermont-Ferrand, via Paris, in ten days.

Now, this was before credit cards, and in the days of the “£300 limit.” You were not allowed to take out of the UK more than £300 on any visit. And in those days, I was terribly naïve. I had no idea that any “law” made by politicians could ever be ethically wrong. I had never even thought about breaking any such “law”; and still less about risk analysis, whether breaking a bad “law” would be likely to yield a positive or negative result for me. So, I had just £280 in travellers’ cheques when I left the Port of Dover.

I planned to stay in youth hostels, but I took a tent “just in case.” I kept a diary of the journey, the “little blue book,” which has unfortunately been lost. But one figure I kept in my memory was the total distance I cycled: 4,742 kilometres. (2,947 miles).

As in all endeavours worth the name, things went wrong. The first came when the youth hostel at Dunkerque was unexpectedly closed. That meant I had to camp in the pouring rain. I am no handyman, even at the best of times; and it was already dark when I found a field in which I could try to erect the tent. The result? My tent sagged and became an over-blanket. I actually slept quite well that night!

I went on to the French and Belgian Ardennes (an area I still love), then to Luxembourg. A pleasant, expensive and very hilly city. Then I cut through Germany into Alsace, where I enjoyed – among many other experiences - the funfair in Phalsbourg. Back into Germany, where I pedalled through the heart of the Black Forest. I passed through Rottweil; fortunately, I didn’t meet any of the local dogs! I spent a night in Lindau, where I heard an oom-pah band for the first time. It was only a few months later that I started to play a brass instrument myself.

Then through a corner of Austria into Liechtenstein (the rain pissed down the whole 2 hours I was there). I remember that the hills started as soon as I got into Switzerland. And then I cycled through Davos, and walked up most of my first Alpine pass, the Flüela. Later the same day, I went over the Ofenpass (Pass dal Fuorn).

On the way down from the Ofenpass, I hit a major problem. Not just one puncture, but two. Both inner tubes gone, and I only had one spare with me! No chance of reaching the youth hostel I was aiming for, so another night camping in the rain. It took me a few days to sort the problem out. I took bus and train to the nearest big town, St.Moritz. Only to find that all the cycle shops were closed, because it was Monday. Eventually, I found the tubes I needed at a place called Fuldera-Daint, just a few kilometres up the valley.

Two notes to self: (1) Plan, as far as is cost effective, for the worst. (2) Understand the local culture, and when shops will be open and closed, before you go.

Then to Italy. Where, I confess, I felt more at home than in the German speaking parts of Europe. I laughed at the sign outside the Renault car factory in Treviso: “Fattoria Automobilistica Renault Treviso. F.A.R.T.” Then I stayed a day in beautiful Venice. Not the easiest place in the world for the cyclist or walker. But the wine was good!

In sweltering heat, I pedal(l)ed on to Bologna. I passed, in the middle of the day, through many small, almost deserted villages. I had thought that only the Spanish took the siesta? But I got my reward when I arrived in Bologna. I’ve never been a pasta fan, but even so, the food there was exemplary.

Then towards Firenze. I picked a route that was a bit too ambitious; perhaps a bridge too far, or a mountain too high. Another night’s uncomfortable camping was followed by a scary moment, when on the descent towards Ponte Cucchaiola the outer tube of the front tyre split. It was probably the second closest I’ve yet been to death.

It was Saturday afternoon, and I called at a café in the village and told them, in my awful Italian, of my plight. I don’t think I have ever in my life been treated better than by those lovely people in that nondescript village in Italy. They summoned the local cycle repairer, who fixed my bike cheaply and expertly. And when he asked me “why don’t you ride a moped?” my reply was instinctive: “É troppo caro!”

I visited Firenze, and found it a bit overwhelming. I’m not a churchy person. Then to Perugia and Assisi. On the way I put a wheel down into the track at a level crossing. I came off – fortunately, no injury – but it buckled the wheel. I wobbled to Assisi – a beautiful and very hilly town – and discovered that there was no cycle shop in Assisi! St. Francis, whatever else he might have been, obviously wasn’t a cyclist.

In Foligno, the next town, I found a cycle shop; and a youth hostel. And I found that “domani” in Italian means “I’ll do it tomorrow,” not at all the same as “mañana” in Spanish. The new wheel, and fitting it, cost £2.

Next, to Rome. Again, I chose a mountain route. Spectacular, and hard work. Beautiful walled towns on the route. I stayed at a youth hostel 1,800 metres above sea level. Then, down again. I spent almost a week in Rome. It was a frenetic place, even then; but I enjoyed it. And in the hostel I re-met my best friend from ten years before.

Rome to Naples, Naples to Sorrento. And then to a place called Paestum. It had a railway station, a café, a youth hostel, a Greek temple and a beach; no more. I met there, for the third time, a Dutchman I’d met in Perugia and again in Sorrento. I hung out with him and his friends for a day or so, then decided I’d reached the end of my bungee.

There were, of course, tribulations on the homeward way.The chase by a dog pack along the beach road in Salerno. The night I had to spend in the broom cupboard of a hostel I didn’t know had closed for the season (yes, the one 1,800 metres high). More ructions due to unexpectedly closed hostels. Being stopped by the cops near Imola; I think they thought I was carrying drugs. The youth hostel in Genoa, by far the worst I stayed at. Being knocked off my bike by a right-turning lorry. Taking an afternoon nap on an easy day, and waking up in a thunderstorm. Trying to pedal northwards out of Marseille against the Mistral.

That last problem signalled the end of the trip. I took the train and ferry home from Marseille. Here’s what I wrote about that journey, a few years afterwards:

"Due to a lack of early morning buses, get a later train than I intended. Share a compartment with a load of Marseillais farmers – didn’t understand one word they said from beginning to end! On reaching Paris, pick up the bike, and … SNCF have banged it up. Quick running repairs, but it isn’t rideable. Have to push it across Paris to the Gare du Nord! This took 2 hours, and… I just saw the London train leave. Isn’t it wonderful to be in Paris, having missed the night train to London, with a banged-up bicycle and no money in your pocket? Another night roaming the streets…”

But despite the troubles on my trip, I took from it far more enjoyment than pain. And I learned much. After a decade and a half of schooling, I got some experience at last.

1974 was the year I grew up.

Friday, 14 September 2018

The Wolf's Head

By the Darn-Poor Rhymer
To be sung to the hymn tune “Aurelia”

I once was in Chicago,
Some way out to the west,
And I was travelling solo;
That’s how I travel best.
I stumbled on a tavern,
Right by the highway side;
And there I met a maven
Upon a Burghal hide.

We fell to conversation,
And then they brought us beer.
And our deliberation
Took us into top gear.
We solved the issues daily
That plague both rich and poor;
But those around us, gaily,
Did our ideas ignore.

He took his smokes and Jameson’s,
I took my beer and wine;
Betwixt the plums and damsons
We treaded a fine line.
“What is this place?” I queried,
“The Wolf’s Head,” he replied,
“The best place for a beerhead
In all the South West Side.”

Time passed, and I felt weary;
I called a taxi ride.
My friend was also leery
Of cops politicized.
And so we parted, vowing
To meet before the end
Of time. And, deeply bowing,
I left my new found friend.