3/16/2017 - Victor Davis Hanson Townhall.com
Deterrence
is the strategy of persuading someone in advance not to do something, often by
raising the likelihood of punishment.
But in the
21st century, we apparently think deterrence is Neanderthal and appeals to the
worst aspects of our natures. The alternative view insists that innately nice
people respond better to discussion and outreach.
History is
largely the story of the tensions between, and the combination of, these two
very different views of human nature -- one tragic and one therapeutic.
The recent
presidential election results favor a more pessimistic view of humans: that
without enforceable rules, humans are likely to run amok -- quite in contrast
to the prior therapeutic mindset of the Obama administration.
Take
illegal immigration. The Trump administration believed the answer was to
persuade people not to come illegally into the United States, and to convince
those who are already residing here illegally and who have broken American laws
to go home. So his proposed wall on the border with Mexico and beefed-up
patrols are a sort of insurance policy in case immigrants do not heed appeals
to follow the law. Deportation and even the threat of deportation also serve as
deterrents to persuade others not to enter the U.S. illegally, given the
likelihood of being sent back home promptly.
The early
result of that proposed deterrent policy is that in just two months, attempted
illegal entries into the U.S. have fallen dramatically.
Past
approaches to illegal immigration were largely therapeutic. Bilateral talks
with Mexico, sanctuary cities, de facto amnesties and non-enforcement of
immigration laws supposedly would ensure that immigration was orderly and a
positive experience for both hosts and guests. Instead, the border effectively
became wide open and chaos ensued.
Currently,
there are no real repercussions on campus for students who disrupt public
discourse or prevent invited speakers from presenting lectures. Universities in
theory claim this is a bad thing -- a violation of the constitutional rights of
free expression and assembly. But campuses rarely punish students for violating
the rules. They seldom ask local law enforcement to apply the full force of
local and state laws to (often violent) student lawbreakers.
If the
intent of universities was to persuade students to respect free speech, then
their therapeutic policies seem an utter failure. University laxity is seen by
protestors as weakness to be held in contempt rather than magnanimity to be
appreciated.
The tragic
view would hold that had the University of California expelled students for
recently disrupting free speech -- and had it encouraged law enforcement to
arrest miscreants for destroying property and using violence against others --
such deterrence would have prevented such unrest in the future.
Such a
precedent at Berkeley might have dissuaded Middlebury College students from
trying to shout down and even injure the political and social scientist Charles
Murray when he was invited to deliver a lecture. The students who charged
Murray, apparently intending to physically force him off campus, might not have
been so bold had they known in advance that they would be brought up on charges
for any such violence.
Middlebury
is an elite school where mostly rich kids fear that a criminal record would be
fatal to the sort of high-power resumes they hope to compile for the good life
to follow graduation.
The same
tragic/therapeutic tension characterizes approaches to radical Islamic
terrorism. Does vetting incoming refugees from the Middle East deter potential
terrorists from entering the country, or does such scrutiny turn off people, radicalize
them and encourage terrorism?
Did the
Obama administration's euphemistic effort to eradicate the phrase "radical
Islamic terrorism" -- along with Obama's apology tour and therapeutic
Cairo speech -- win hearts and minds in the Middle East? Or did such outreach
convince radicals that the U.S. was hardly to be feared, thus encouraging
anti-American sentiment?
In the past
eight years, the U.S. has backed off the red lines and deadlines it issued to
Syria, Russia and Iran. Did such equivocation earn America appreciation and
respect for circumspection -- or contempt for empty rhetoric?
There is no
clear-cut divide between deterrence and therapy. Each at times has its place in
warning or wooing people and nations. But in general, anytime a government errs
on the side of therapy and communicates to individuals and foreign powers that
laws are flexible, that punishment is iffy and that consequences are
negotiable, it gets less of what it wants.
It is
unfortunate but true that North Korea is deterred more by U.S. military
strength than by United Nations resolutions.
In much the
same way, radical campus lawbreakers probably respect (and fear) the local
district attorney a lot more than the college president.
In other
words, the more we feel we have entered a 21st-century therapeutic utopia, the
more tragic that human nature seems not to have changed all that much from the
Stone Age.
No comments:
Post a Comment