Imagine that you live in Vermont and want to be a beer brewer. You don’t only want to be a brewer, you need to be a brewer. It is your calling. You find that there are a lot of options. You could apply for work at The Alchemist Brewing Company. You could apply for work at Hill Farmstead. Or Fiddlehead Brewing Company. Or Long Trail. You could seek work at any of the dozens of breweries in the state. Or you could start your own. To be sure, there are legal and logistical hurdles to starting a brewery. There are some licensing and regulatory issues. But in a state with more breweries per capita than any other, it can’t be too hard.
Now imagine that you live in Taiwan in the 1990’s and you want to be a beer brewer. You don’t only want to be a brewer, you need to be a brewer. You could apply for work at the Monopoly Bureau of the Taiwan Governor’s Office, makers of Taiwan’s only beer: the cleverly named “Taiwan Beer.” And if you did not get the job, you have to give up on your dream. Opening your own brewery is not an option. As the name clearly states: there is a state monopoly on beer production in Taiwan.
These two contrasting scenarios illustrate a necessary defect in centralized economies. Vermont, which is a relatively free market, produces some of the very best beers in the world and provides entrepreneurs with the opportunity to follow their dreams. The result is an excellent environment for both brewers and consumers. Taiwan, on the other hand, produces decidedly mediocre beer. And until 2002, the state run brewery was the only game in town. The result was a stifling of creativity for brewers and a lack of choice for consumers.
Dedicated socialist H. G. Wells wrote in his New World Order that collectivism requires a declaration of human rights. “The more socialisation proceeds and the more directive authority is concentrated, the more necessary is an efficient protection of individuals from the impatience of well-meaning or narrow-minded or ruthless officials and indeed from all the possible abuses of advantage that are inevitable under such circumstances to our still childishly wicked breed.” And he is certainly right that the more power the government has, the more dangerous it is to individuals. (Although his solution of “compose a declaration of rights” is, in my opinion, a poor second to the solution of “just don’t give that much power to the government.”)
Wells’ proposed declaration of rights includes economic freedom. “That he [anyone] may engage freely in any lawful occupation, earning such pay as the need for his work and the increment it makes to the common welfare may justify. That he is entitled to paid employment and to a free choice whenever there is any variety of employment open to him. He may suggest employment for himself and have his claim publicly considered, accepted or dismissed.”
But the Taiwan example shows how hollow this freedom is. In a totally centralized economy, there really is no space for the individual to suggest his own employment. The question of which occupations are “lawful” and “open to” the individual is totally loaded. It is the government itself that decides whether the occupations are lawful or open to any given person. Wells may as well have written “he may engage freely in any occupation that the government gives him permission to.” As long as the power is given to the government to make all economic decisions, there is no freedom at all.
Beer of the week: Sip of Sunshine IPA – Lawson’s Finest Liquids is yet another wonderful Vermont brewery. And Sip of Sunshine sure is a treat. This beer is honey-colored and has a decent head. The aroma is bright and fruity. The taste has lots of tropical fruit and citrus notes from the hops and the sweetness of the malt balances it all very nicely. There is a reason that this beer is very sought after; it is delicious.
Reading of the week: The New World Order by H.G. Wells, Chapter: 10 Declaration of the Rights of Men – I think that the above criticism of Wells is valid, if not original. However, this reading does include a number of very good ideas that cannot be as easily discounted.
Question of the week: Is there anywhere in the world that is better for beer right now than Vermont?
Nearly every time I sit down at a bar, I ask the barkeep the same question: are there any beer specials on at the moment? Admittedly, the motivation behind this question is pinching pennies. But as Confucius said,“Waste begets self-will; thrift begets meanness: but better be mean than self-willed.” So I’d rather be thrifty than wasteful. And anyway, if I save a dollar per drink, that can quickly add up to another drink.
Another important feature of the question is its ability to narrow down my choices. There are so many beers out there, that I often appreciate the opportunity to rely on the daily specials to help me decide. I have sampled a great number of beers that I might otherwise have overlooked this way.
But discounts are more than they seem. Discounts can reveal a number of motivations. They can be implemented for the purpose of new customer acquisition. They can also be used to move inventory that is growing stale. But the main sale prices offered by bars are designed to drive sales, particularly at times when demand is low. Compare, for example, the deals that you can get Tuesday afternoon compared to Saturday night. The traditional notion is that the retailer will reduce the price to encourage a greater volume of sales. The increased number of sales hopefully offsets the decreased profit margin on each unit (and then some.)
But those Saturday night customers might have a gripe against the Tuesday happy hour crowd. Arguably, discounts are essentially subsidies paid by one group of patrons for the benefit of another. Everybody who drinks at the bar outside of happy hour is subsidizing the drinks of the happy hour drinkers. For the bar to remain profitable, base prices have to go up in order to cover the revenue lost due to discounts. So by accepting a discount, thrifty patrons are externalizing a portion of their tab and the rest of the customers share the cost in the form of higher prices later.
But there is nothing very novel about this notion. The idea has been around for a long time. A classic example is the expression “there’s no such thing as a free lunch.” The “free lunch” in question is the time-honored tradition/marketing scheme whereby public houses offer free food with purchase of a drink. (An arrangement that fed me and my friends more than a few times during our college years.) As more than a few people have observed, those who buy a single drink and eat well get a great bargain. While those who buy multiple drinks or eat little essentially subsidized the feeding of others.
Once this situation has been recognized, one must ask whether there is a moral imperative not to accept discounts on the grounds that doing so is to the disadvantage of those customers who do not receive a discount. The answer, I think, is no.
The bars that I frequent sell cans of PBR or Hamms for as much as $3 per can. And some people make the free choice to pay that price. After all, each and every transaction at the bar is made freely by both the bar owner and the customer. The bar owner is free to set his prices and if the customer finds the prices too high, he may return during happy hour or take his business elsewhere. What does it matter to me if the bar makes more money off of some other patron than he does off of me? If the bar owner is actually losing money on me, let him raise his prices or discontinue his discounts. In a free market, one has little right to complain that somebody else got a better deal.
Beer of the week: Revolution Rosa – I have complained before about the fact that bars in Boston are prohibited from offering happy hour specials. Chicago no longer has such a prohibition. And this Chicago beer may now be seen at a discounted price, because summer beers are finished and autumn seasonals have hit the shelves. It is hard to tell from the photo, but this beer has a color unlike any other beer have ever seen. It is brewed with hibiscus, which gives the beer a distinctly floral taste and a pink hue. The aroma of the beer is very sweet and malty. The taste follows the smell closely: sweet, malty, flowery. I think that this beer is very good, but I would understand if anybody complained that there is not enough hops to balance all of the sweetness.
Reading of the week: The Sayings of Confucius – To be honest, I am not sure how to read Confucius. I have made a couple of attempts but not as seriously as I might. This section seems like a more or less random smattering, but it contains quite a few lovely thoughts. Of particular interest to me is the line “Were shouldering a whip a sure road to riches, I would turn carter: but since there is no sure road, I tread the path I love.”
Question of the week: Do discounts to some really disadvantage others? Is this a case of the workers in the vineyard?
It is easy, though incredibly naive, to reduce the effects of alcohol to the intellectual plane. It is clear as day that drinking affects the way that we think. Our inhibitions are lowered; our capacity for reason is retarded; all at the same time, our ideas become unreasonably clear and inextricably confused. Alcohol’s greatest virtue and greatest danger is its ability to affect our mental processes.
But we recognize the effects of alcohol most markedly in their physical manifestations. Our cheeks flush. We stagger. We slur our words. Our physical coordination fails us. Even as alcohol robs the mind of its greatest power (reason), it robs the body of it’s purely animal capabilities.
Descartes wrote “I think, therefore I am.” But by reducing existence to the intellectual plane, he initiated an entire line of thought dedicated to the idea that physical existence is completely ancillary to “real” existence. Humans, however, are both corporeal and spiritual. Recognition of this essential duality is evident in Plato’s scheme to educate leaders both physically and intellectually in The Republic. It is also evident in Homer’s casting of Odysseus as both athletic and cunning.
Because man’s greatness stems from both intellect and physique, the “beer gut” is all the greater shame. Moderate consumption of alcohol may have beneficial effects, both physical and psychological. But excess is dangerous in both directions.
Beer of the week: Bone Shaker Brown Ale – This New Hampshire brew from Moat Mountain is orange-brown with a quickly fading head. The aroma is somewhat musty and is a bit reminiscent of Triscuit crackers. The flavor carries on with the cracker notes from the smell. The body of this ale is fairly thin. I don’t think that this is a great beer, but I will certainly drink it again.
Reading of the week: Iliad by Homer, Book XXIII, 653-749 – At the funeral games for Patroclus, “Odysseus of many wiles, he of guileful mind” wrestled to a draw with Ajax, the strongest of the Greeks (except for Achilles.)
Question of the week: To what extent is alcohol consumed for its physical, rather than its psychological effects? Can the two even be distinguished?
As repugnant as many Americans find the idea of monarchy, there are some arguments to be made in favor that particular form of government:
- A monarch has a vested interest in the continuing stability of his country. If he may be on the throne for several decades and then pass the crown to his son, there is a lot of incentive for a king to plan for the long-term. Compare this to an elected politician, who is either subject to term-limits or must always have an eye on the polls for the next election. Once he reaches his term-limit, he is at liberty to steal as much as he can and let the next office-holder take the blame. If there is no term-limit or if he has not yet reached it, the elected politician has a lot of incentive to prioritize short-term results lest he be ousted at the next election. Fiscal responsibility, therefore, seems much more likely to exist in a monarchy than in a republic.
- A monarch may act as a very effective check on popular government. Because he has no fear of being removed when the people go to the polls, a king may safely attempt to stand in the way of a popular faction that would inappropriately impose itself on others. Emperor Franz Joseph supposedly claimed that his role as monarch was “to protect my peoples from their governments.” Alcohol prohibition in America is a great example of how a dedicated faction can overrun all official opposition with the threat of the ballot box. The result is often gross incursions of the government into private affairs.
- A monarch also serves as a unifying principle. Like the flag, the crown is a non-partisan symbol of national unity. To be sure, not every monarch is universally loved. But it is possible for an American president to be elected by a relatively small fraction of the population. (Bush the Second got some 50 million votes in 2000, and the total population of the USA at that time was well over 280 million.) And elections are almost always very decisive. As a result, it is uncommon for Americans generally to “rally behind” their elected officials the same way royal subjects may rally behind their king.
These arguments are certainly somewhat compelling. In particular, the independence of the monarch from popular whims and contentious factions is an attractive feature of the system. History, however, tells us that people are not always better off under a king than under a republic, (or under a rightful king rather than a usurper.) The customary means by which one ascends to the throne is birthright, but not every child of a king is fit to wear the crown. In Meno, Socrates antagonizes Anytus, one of the men who would eventually accused him of corrupting the youth of Athens, by listing great men who had inferior progeny; if Themistocles, Pericles, or Thucydides did not have sons who lived up to their fathers’ reputations, why should we expect great kings to fare any better? And if the notion of birthright is abandoned on these grounds, what is left of monarchy?
Beer of the week: Arthur – Speaking of progeny, Arthur has a family connection. This farmhouse ale is not named for King Arthur, but for one of the brewers’ uncles who grew up on the farm that gives Hill Farmstead Brewery its name. It pours a cloudy straw color with lots of big, white bubbles. The aroma is of yeast and tart grapes or white wine. The finish is more sour than expected, with lots of lemon, white grape, and earthy yeast flavor. I really enjoyed this Vermont treat.
Reading of the week: The Tragedy of Richard II by William Shakespeare, Act III, Scene 2 – When King Richard returns from Ireland, he finds that some of his supporters are fled, others dead, but most have gone over to the usurper, Henry of Bolingbroke. Richard flashes from hope to despair and back (and back again) in this scene. Two of his speeches are of particular interest to me. In the first, Richard enlists nature itself to preserve his monarchy by setting spiders and vipers and toads in Bolingbroke’s way. In his later speech, however, he acknowledges that there is nothing about the nature of kings that separates them from other men: “For you have but mistook me all this while: I live with bread like you, feel want, Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus, How can you say to me, I am a king?”
Question of the week: Are the above arguments for monarchy really compelling? And if so, how can the problem of unfit heirs be remedied adequately to justify a monarchy?
It may be surprising to people with an American education to learn that at the very same time that the United States of America was at war with the Confederate States of America, a French army was pushing its way across Mexico. The Monroe Doctrine had been in place for nearly 40 years, so the thought of a full-on European invasion of Mexico seems rather shocking.
Shortly before the American Civil War, Mexico had its own, known as the Reform War. The immediate result was a fractured and bankrupt Mexican government. In 1861, the president of Mexico declared a moratorium on paying its debts, and the French were none too happy about that. Emperor Napoleon III, who had been elected as President Bonaparte but refused to leave when his term ended, decided that a Mexican regime change was in order. He sent a small army to “negotiate”. On the 5th of May, 1862, an outnumbered rag-tag Mexican army crushed the better trained and better equipped French invaders. Cinco de Mayo has been celebrated ever since.
It is always interesting to put historical events into context. While the Americans were being divided over the question of self-determination (and slavery), Mexicans were fighting for their own right to govern themselves. Their success at the Battle of Puebla was short lived, though. Just three years later, Maximilian I, born in Vienna into the powerful Hapsburg Dynasty, sat on his throne in Mexico City as Emperor.
As it turned out, Maximilian’s empire did not last long either. A successful republican revolt culminated in Maximilian’s execution by firing squad, just two years after the murder of Abraham Lincoln. Sic semper indeed.
Beer of the week: Tecate – Cerveza Tecate is a standard Mexican adjunct lager. It is pale gold in color and quite fizzy. As far as aroma and flavor, there is not much to write. Cheap grain supplies the bulk of both. I could surely down more than a few of these on a hot day, but generally I would pick something more flavorful. Even the addition of lime and salt doesn’t do much for it.
Reading for the week: Memorabilia by Xenophon, Book I, Chapter 2, Sections 39-50 – Whether government is monarchical or democratic in form, it’s nature is always coercive. This reading by Xenophon includes a brief dialogue between Alcibiades and Pericles. In it, Alcibiades gets Pericles to define government coercion as “not law, but force.” The logical conclusion is that all conventional “laws”, from tyrants’ dictates to democratic legislation, are not law at all, but mere force.
Question for the week: When have you been surprised to learn that two historic events were much closer in time than your had realized?
The overwhelming majority of lawsuits settle before trial. By some estimates, fewer than 1 out of every 10 cases make it all the way to trial. And for the most part, settlement is the best option for both sides. Going to trial means more court fees, more attorneys’ fees, and, perhaps most importantly, the possibility of simply losing. A litigant who is able to accurately and rationally appraise the value of his case and the probability of success should be able to negotiate a settlement that minimizes his costs and risk. In that light, it seems that the biggest obstacle to settlement is the simple fact that people are not all that rational.
In The Death of Ivan Ilych, Tolstoy presents a beautiful example of a man who rationally knows one thing, but nonetheless refuses to believe it:
The syllogism he had learnt from Kiesewetter’s Logic: “Caius is a man, men are mortal, therefore Caius is mortal,” had always seemed to him correct as applied to Caius, but certainly not as applied to himself. That Caius—man in the abstract—was mortal, was perfectly correct, but he was not Caius, not an abstract man, but a creature quite, quite separate from all others. He had been little Vanya, with a mamma and a papa, with Mitya and Volodya, with the toys, a coachman and a nurse, afterwards with Katenka and will all the joys, griefs, and delights of childhood, boyhood, and youth. What did Caius know of the smell of that striped leather ball Vanya had been so fond of? Had Caius kissed his mother’s hand like that, and did the silk of her dress rustle so for Caius? Had he rioted like that at school when the pastry was bad? Had Caius been in love like that? Could Caius preside at a session as he did? “Caius really was mortal, and it was right for him to die; but for me, little Vanya, Ivan Ilych, with all my thoughts and emotions, it’s altogether a different matter. It cannot be that I ought to die. That would be too terrible.”
The Stoics equate nature, god, and reason. The highest good for man, therefore, would be to achieve purely rational thought. The problem, as Tolstoy observes, is that human thought will always consist of an admixture of reason and emotion. In this particular example, self-love clouds the reasoning of Ivan Ilych. In other cases, including a great number of lawsuits, anger or other emotions interfere with one’s ability to think clearly. One simply cannot be purely rational. For the Stoics, self-love and emotions are to be overcome in the name of reason. For Tolstoy, however, a purely rational life would be no life at all. What makes us human is not our ability to reason alone, but all of our emotional and mental capacity.
Beer of the week: Nikšićko Pivo – Tolstoy lived through the Russo-Turkish War of 1877-1878. The culmination of that conflict was the Treaty of San Stefano, which granted the Principality of Montenegro official international recognition and expanded territory. Part of the new lands acquired included the city of Nikšić. And it is from Nikšić that this week’s beer comes. Frankly, I hoped for more from my first beer from Montenegro, and I really did not expect much. Despite the artificial coloring listed in the ingredients, the beer is still very pale. It pours with heaps of white foam. There is not much going on flavor-wise in Nikšićko, mostly just cheap grain and a slightly metallic aftertaste. Oh well.
Reading of the week: The Death of Ivan Ilych by Leo Tolstoy, Chapter VI – The above-quoted syllogism is somewhat novel to me. I had always heard it with Socrates rather than Caius. This reading really says a lot about the way that humans think, especially how they think about themselves in relation to the rest of the world.
Question for the week: How often do you persist in something out for emotional reasons when you know rationally that it is the wrong choice?
This weekend is ANZAC weekend. That means that it has been 101 years since some nine-hundred thousand young men from around the globe engaged in bloody battle in rocky terrain of the Gallipoli Peninsula in Turkey. The Turks successfully defended their homeland against the foreign invaders, but only after 9 months of brutal trench warfare. Winston Churchill, the mastermind of the Campaign, resigned in disgrace even before the final retreat. (Of course, he found his way back into power later on in life.)
The Battle of Gallipoli is particularly interesting because of the way that it encapsulated the notion of a “World War”. From the point of view of Western Europeans and Americans, this campaign was fought in an obscure theater, between obscure nations. Little enough attention is paid to WWI in schools as it is, but American students certainly learn next to nothing about the Turkish defense of the Dardanelles against Australians and New Zealanders. (To say nothing of the English colonials from Canada and India.) Only the fighting in Africa or Asia seems more remote to the traditional narrative of World War I.
Of course, the Gallipoli Campaign also inspired one of the great anti-war folk songs of all time, And The Band Played Waltzing Matilda by Eric Bogle. One of the scenes presented in the lyrics is the trooper ships departing Circular Quay in Sydney. “And amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears, we sailed off for Gallipoli.” This is echoed in a later verse when “the crippled, the wounded, [and] the maimed” soldiers are shipped home, only to find that “nobody cheered, they just stood and stared, then they turned all their faces away.” The imagery calls to mind the beginning and the end of the Sicilian Expedition as described by Thucydides:
“Early in the morning of the day appointed for their departure, the Athenian forces and such of their allies as had already joined them went down to the Piraeus and began to man the ships. Almost the entire population of Athens accompanied them, citizens and strangers alike. The citizens came to take farewell, one of an acquaintance, another of a kinsman, another of a son, and as they passed along were full of hope and full of tears; hope of conquering Sicily, tears because they doubted whether they would ever see their friends again, when they thought of the long voyage on which they were going away. At the last moment of parting the danger was nearer; and terrors which had never occurred to them when they were voting the expedition now entered into their souls. Nevertheless their spirits revived at the sight of the armament in all its strength and of the abundant provision which they had made. The strangers and the rest of the multitude came out of curiosity, desiring to witness an enterprise of which the greatness exceeded belief.”
Like the ANZACs some 2,330 years later, the Athenians met with disaster when they decided to wage war across the sea. In the end, nearly the entire Athenian force was captured. The vast majority died in the wretched conditions of a make-shift prison camp in a rock quarry. It is cliche to say that history repeats itself, but somebody has to say it if we are ever to break the cycle.
Beer of the week: Ledenika Special – Bulgaria did not enter World War I until after the Gallipoli Campaign was well underway. As it turns out, Bulgaria ended up joining the wrong side. The Turks won the Battle of Gallipoli, but they and their allies lost the war. Ledenika is my first ever Bulgarian beer. The brew is very clear, very pale, and smells of crackers. The flavor is also reminiscent of crackers. Ledenika is very average, but it is always nice to try a brew from another country.
Reading of the week: History of the Peloponnesian War by Thucydides, Book VI, Chapters 8-15 – Not everybody was waving flags and cheering at the Piraeus as the Athenians boarded their ships. Nicias, one of the generals, had tried in vain to convince the people that the Sicilian Expedition was a bad idea. This reading is one of his speeches, which, prophetic as it was, failed to dissuade the population once the war drums had been beat.
Question of the week: What is different about the Sicilian Expedition and the Gallipoli Campaign?