By Michael
E. Berumen
There’s
something to be said for monarchy. Not the kind that entails absolute power as enjoyed
by the likes of Louis IV, Henry VIII, or Catherine the Great. I have in mind
something rather different, something that bears greater similarity to what the
Queen of the United Kingdom and Commonwealth Realms has today, that is, a
so-called constitutional monarchy, one with limited powers who “rules” in a democratically
elected, representative government, and where the day-to-day affairs of state
are managed by the elected office holders. In the case of Great Britain, that
would be the Prime Minister, various cabinet members, and their appointees. The
Devil is in the details, of course, and there are improvements over the British
system that one can envision, but in many ways, this makes much more sense to
me than the American structure, albeit, the idea of a written Constitution wherein
rights are delineated is something I’d want to keep.
Setting
the mechanical principles of governance aside, there are several advantages to
monarchy, as silly as the institution might appear to some. There is much to be
gained by separating the functions that attend the head of state, a person who is
seen to embody the ideals, will, and stature of a country, from the messier
business of actually running the government and the process of getting elected,
and the unseemly partisanship that accompanies all of it. Thus separated, it
allows for someone to handle the matters of state that require dignity and
decorum–––something profoundly lacking in the chief executive in today’s
America–––and someone who represents the country as a whole, standing above squabbling
factions, which is something the Founders and Framers worried about a great
deal, and perhaps most notably, George Washington, who eschewed factionalism. Even
John Adams, perhaps the single most important, forceful, and articulate
advocate for independence prior to the American Revolution, favored having a
monarch for reasons such as these. Of course, one doesn’t need a hereditary
monarch for such a separation of duties. There are other examples of
presidencies that act as head of state for limited periods without being the
operational head of government–––for example, in Israel.
With
that said, aside from dividing the labor between a head of state and a head of
government, there are virtues to a hereditary constitutional monarchy. It
provides for continuity of leadership over time, which is important in the
sense that people crave a certain kind of permanence and stability, something
they can count on every day for the whole of their lives. While it is true that
mediocrities will be the order of the day and a clustering around the mean of
innate abilities will occur, as is invariably the case in every significant
segment of society, there’s evidence to suggest that a first-class education and
moral training can produce a sense of duty, reasonable judgment, and common
sense even among those with otherwise average minds. In other words, even people
possessing the most ordinary of intellects can rise to the role, given the
proper tools and motivation. And let’s face it, mediocrities rule the day among
elected officials in a democracy, too, whereas, duty and judgment are not
always evident in those who are burdened by their ambition, and this stands in
juxtaposition with those born into power and reared to manage it. Why, after
all, should it surprise anyone that those elected by a majority of their fellow
middling folk aren’t any more perspicacious than those who put them there? Still,
invoking Lord Acton, the highly corrupting influence of absolute power can affect
us all, including superior intellects, making them even more dangerous as
history has shown more than once, and that is why the rights and duties of the
monarch must be carefully circumscribed.
There
is overwhelming evidence that we humans long for heroes to lead us and that we are
prone to celebrity worship. Most people–––even the most circumspect among us, including
those who imagine themselves to be ruled solely by reason–––have a need to admire
and transfer some part of their aspirations to people they consider grander
than themselves. Consider how people the world over are fascinated by
celebrities in the arts and sports, fawn over prominent intellectuals (yes,
even in academia) or business tycoons; or blindly follow charismatic
politicians. A monarch can fulfill this need, and perhaps even distract from
the dangers of following charismatic, would-be tyrants. In America, there is as
much enthrallment with the British monarchy and its trappings as there is among
the Brits themselves. A monarch’s family can also provide a useful distraction
and entertainment, not without some cost at the public trough, mind you, but within
reasonable limits. The benefits of having a head of state and an institution
that most people can respect would seem to outweigh the associated and
comparatively small financial encumbrances. The British Commonwealth and Japan
both provide reasonably attractive and financially manageable examples.
I say
all of this only in partial seriousness. I am not proposing monarchy for the
United States, which is clearly unfeasible. It is much more likely we will fall
into dictatorship with the likes of the current occupant of the White House
than what I’m positing here. But, I am not so sure that if they could have
known what we know today about all that ensued after 1776, that those Colonists
who rebelled against England and King George III would have done the same given
the chance. Armed with knowledge of the future, it is conceivable that they would
have negotiated a different arrangement with the mother country, one that would
have given greater representation and local autonomy. The possibilities are
endless: Napoleon might have been defeated much sooner with our assistance; slavery
would likely have ended earlier, as it did in Britain (1772) and the Empire
(1833); the American Civil War might thereby have been avoided; and, given the
overwhelming might of the British Empire, one that included America, the world
wars of the 20th century, the Holocaust, and other depredations might
never have occurred. There is not a laboratory to test such a thesis, and given
the fickle finger of historical fates and unintended consequences, it could
well have turned out for the worse for all we know. While Americans are prone
to comforting–––and often enough, deluding–––themselves with their
self-described “exceptionalism,” there’s considerable hubris in thinking that
the rebellious Colonists produced the best of possible outcomes. Quite apart
from the special geographic advantages and fecundity that we enjoy, some of the
things we single out as great American virtues–––productivity and individualism
being among them–––do not seem to have depended upon separation.
It
gives one pause to think the Founders might have erred. It must be remembered
that historically one man’s patriot is another’s traitor, and one man’s
revolutionary is another’s terrorist. The victors are the ones who usually
decide the appellation we will use. We prefer to think things turned out for
the best, but it cannot be so easily demonstrated when we set aside our grammar
school indoctrinations and our primordial tribal sentiments. And then there’s
the matter of treason. Consider General Benedict Arnold–––a British citizen who
rebelled with his fellow Colonists against the Crown, who undergoes apostasy
(with the encouragement of his Tory wife and after becoming aggrieved with his
treatment by Congress), who then resumes loyalty to the Crown once again. As a
consequence and ever since, in the minds of Americans he’s become the very
definition of treason. Did Arnold, an Englishman who fought for England and
against those who rebelled against their own country do a greater injustice than,
say, a President who cooperates with a foreign power and then lies about it in
order to win an election, and who proceeds to denigrate and alter the
institutions of his country and coarsen its ethos and enliven hatred and
bigotry in the citizenry? It is difficult to argue that the latter is less
ignoble than Arnold’s treachery, which, after all, was against those in
rebellion, and, at least ultimately, not against his country (one has to
imagine the country we now call the United States existed before it did to
consider the rebellion anything other treason, whatever its moral merits might
have been).
It is
easy to poke fun at some of the silliness and pomp surrounding the remaining
monarchs in the modern age. But is it any more preposterous than what occurs
with the often vacuous personalities celebrated by tens of millions today? I
rather think it is less absurd. Unlike the kind of worship directed to
celebrities, there is a purpose to having someone embody the values of the nation
and someone who is respected by virtue of what she symbolizes, and whose ultimate
duty is to serve the nation. This stands in contrast to those to whom no such
motive can be ascribed without reservation–––those who aspire to have power over
others, or those whose influence is simply due to their having an unusual talent,
being extraordinarily good looking, or who have a pile of money. The more I
think about it, the more I’ve come to believe that the rest of us jokers might
benefit were we the subjects of kings and queens born into their role and
groomed for obligation and service, rather than being fawning supplicants of pop
stars, moguls of commerce living large, and blow-dried politicians. It is good
I have no political aspirations, as I’d be accused of trying to establish a
monarchy and becoming king! Alas, no, the unvarnished truth is that I am much more
a perennial skeptic and an occasional cynic about human motivations than I am a
monarchist or any other kind of true believer. END
Michael
Berumen is a retired CEO and a published author on diverse topics including
economics, mathematics, music, and philosophy. He has lectured to civic,
academic, and business audiences internationally, and testified before the US
Congress and local legislative and regulatory bodies as an expert witness on
health insurance reform. He has served on various boards of directors. Among
other things, he is the author of the book Do
No Evil: Ethics with Applications to Economic Theory and Business. An Army
veteran, aviator, kung fu sifu, outdoorsman, music lover, former juvenile
delinquent, CSUEB and Stanford alum, and longtime Californian, he and his wife
retired to the northern Colorado countryside. He still takes on speaking
engagements, but on a limited basis. http://www.michaelberumen.academia.edu/ and http://www.michaelberumen.academia.edu/
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