The basis of that odd but predictable ending was a couple of quotes from Edmund Burke
(at least there are still some around who will quote the Old Conservative rather than Rush Limbaugh): It is no inconsiderable part of wisdom, to know much of an evil ought to be tolerated.
I must bear with infirmities until they fester into crimes.Sowell's column demonstrates the problem with libertarian-conservative philosophy. Despite its rhetorically effective ("Less government!") but practically leaky ("Don't touch my Medicare!") approach, when it is consistent, that philosophy essentially entails a quasi-Darwinian view of life: Let the strongest survive, and let nature rule.
Shamelessly repeating the lie that the government is out to kill old folks ("do not be surprised when life-and-death decisions about you or your family are taken out of your hands—and out of the hands of your doctor—and transferred to bureaucrats in Washington"), Sowell obviously has no interest in things like "universal health care" or "social justice." To him and other libertarian-conservatives, there is no such thing as social justice. There is only the hard truth that,
the universe was not made to our specifications. Nor were human beings. So there is nothing surprising in the fact that we are dissatisfied with many things at many times. The big question is whether we are prepared to follow any politician who claims to be able to "solve" our "problem.But that's not the "big question" at all. The really big question is, "Are we content with the state of nature, or is there something we can do about the inequality and injustice all around us?"
Surely, the answer to that question has changed since the 18th century. In Burke's day, there wasn't much that could be done about many "infirmities," even if they festered into "crimes." Thus it was practical (though no less ornery) to argue for a certain toleration of "evil," there being no workable alternatives. The tools to make possible "universal health care" or "social justice" simply weren't available.
That is the trouble with adhering to any static philosophy, especially one baked in the oven of the 18th century. Things change (as Edmund Burke knew and understood, of course), and as bright a man as he was, Burke could not see into our 21st century world, in which the resources (but not yet the will) are available to eradicate not just American but world-wide hunger and supply even the most remote tribal people with basic health care. Should we just continue to let people starve and get sick and die needlessly? In many cases, it's not a matter of tolerating evil that we can't fix; it is generating the collective will to fix the evil that we can. And I suppose that is the difference between liberal-progressives and libertarian-conservatives, the optimists and the pessimists.
One group believes that not only is "social justice" a meaningful concept, but one which we should at least attempt to attain, even if we know we will inevitably fall short. These optimists believe government—we the people—can make things better. They have a larger and firmer—because it is more humane—principle of "freedom" that includes freedom from unnecessary suffering.
The other group, derisively dismissing any notion of social justice, is content with the sometimes ugly status quo, protecting a laudable and lofty—but for many, illusory—principle of "freedom."
To a sick man or woman, or a hungry little boy or little girl, an abstract, philosophical "freedom" means nothing;
and in the face of such poverty, telling them, "It is no inconsiderable part of wisdom, to know much of an evil ought to be tolerated," is a "crime," even a Burkean one.
