The Tragedy of The Public Square

Note to readers: This week I’m taking a break from the serial with some thoughts on the “tragedy of the public square.” Let me know what you think in the comments.

The concept “tragedy of the commons” originated in an 1833 essay by the British economist William Forster Lloyd. He described a situation where a number of farmers used the village common—an area without well-defined property rights—for grazing their cattle. The shared common with “free” cattle feed incentivized farmers to increase the heads of cattle without regard for the long-term use of the land, tragically resulting in overgrazing and malnourished livestock.

The solution to the tragedy is to define property rights to the common, dividing the land between the farmers, establishing direct individual property ownership. This incentivizes each farmer to think long-range, limiting the heads of cattle to prevent overgrazing and livestock malnourishment.

The tragedy of the commons—consumption for short range profit while disregarding the long-term consequences—manifests itself in all areas with diffuse or no property rights: overfishing the ocean, rush hour congestion on public roads, polluting the air and waters, etc. The moral and practical solution is always to better define and protect property rights: auction off oceanic fishing areas to the highest bidder, privatize public roads to allow for efficient management of supply and demand at all times of day, protect the rights of property owners and others who are objectively proved to be hurt by air and water pollution.

“The tragedy of the public square” is my term for a variation of the tragedy of the commons (a Google search doesn’t return any results indicating that others have used it). In the wake of the 2017 Charlottesville tragedy and the associated calls for removing—or not removing—statues of miscellaneous historical figures, I wrote Need a Statue Strategy? Privatize the Public Square, arguing that

“…in a truly free society—a society with total separation of state and statues—controversies such as this would at the most be a marginal issue. Why? Because the public square where most of these statues are on display would be private. We would see a mix of individuals as in this case, charities, historical societies, home owner associations, small business groups, and corporations taking ownership. The square would be run for profit or not for profit according to the wishes of the owner(s), not unlike today’s private museums, sculpture parks, gardens and heritage sites. The controversial statues would be retained, removed or replaced at the owner’s discretion, sometimes after considering public opinion. And as with all private property, the owner would set the rules of admission—no trespassing, free, or for a fee—including the rules for who may or may not demonstrate on the property and on what conditions.”

In the article, I articulated the problem with the public square as

“…we have a right, directly or through our representatives, to weigh in on its design, including what statues to put on display. And we have a right to determine what the public square should be used for, incl. whether to allow demonstrations or not, and on what terms. But there are a lot of us, and we have different ideas and opinions. Most of the time we get along and work out our differences. But if not, our only recourse is to violate one another’s rights through force, either with our vote or, as in Charlottesville, with violence. The public square simply doesn’t have the good fences that make good neighbors.”

(read the whole thing)

The tragedy of the public square is not limited to the physical public square in all its forms. It is present in most if not all areas that are publicly owned, regulated, and/or financed (with taxes, fees, or with debt to be paid for with future tax revenues). It covers all situations where all of us, as individuals or in groups, have a stake in the game—and a right to a say—in matters that have been deemed a “common good” and therefore unfit for individual ownership. The resulting tragedy is the constant battle between warring factions, each with their own opinions of how a particular part of the public square should be managed. Do you or your group have a vision for the scope and forms of public transportation? A view of the importance of public libraries, parks and recreation? Of how much resources should be devoted to affordable public (or publicly subsidized) housing? Thoughts on whether your local hair-braider or tattoo artist or butcher, baker or candlestick maker needs an occupational license? Whatever the case, your recourse to making your voice heard is fighting it out in the public square by demonstrating and collecting signatures, forming pressure groups, writing op-eds and letters to the editor, voting on ballot initiatives and for the “right” candidate, and so on. And if the issue is contentious enough, it may result in physical violence as in Charlottesville. In the end, if you lose, your individual rights are being violated, and if you win, you violate the individual rights of those who are in disagreement.

As with the tragedy of the commons, the moral and practical solution is to replace the public square with a private marketplace where individual rights, including property rights, are protected and respected. This will resolve differences of opinion by letting people vote with their values and wallets: replace the public square of public transportation with private, rights-respecting mass transit solutions where supply and demand determine the mix of modes of transportation and pricing; similarly, privatize public libraries, parks and recreation, public housing, occupational licensing, etc. (see the book for more details).

Nowhere is the tragedy of the public square more pronounced than in government (public) K-12 education. The pandemic unleashed a civil war between advocates for closing schools and keeping them open, and if keeping open, between mask proponents and opponents, and vaccine advocates and detractors. And as parents got a Zoom lesson in what their kids were being taught (CRT, gender identity, environmentalism) or not taught (reading, writing and arithmetic), new battle lines were drawn between people on either side of the issues. Parents showed up to school board meetings in droves, many pulled their kids out of school, and elected officials were voted in and out of office based on their stance. Most of the actions were initiated by people with the right to a stake in the “common good” game as federal and state income taxpayers, and local property taxpayers (whether directly, as homeowners, or indirectly, as renters)—parents, teachers, administrators, community activists, and others.

If the current government (public) K-12 education system were replaced by an individual rights respecting private education marketplace, the tragical civil war in this particular public square would end. Occasional localized skirmishes would take place when a certain private education offering didn’t meet expectations. Parents would most likely try to affect change, and the education provider try to accommodate the demands to not lose customers. But at some point, if the parties couldn’t come to terms, the parents would look elsewhere for another school that better catered to their values and wallets.

For the most part, the good fences of a rights-respecting private education system where buyers (parents) and sellers (private schools) trade value for value without forcing others to foot the bill in the form of taxes and other public financing would make good neighbors of everyone, and make the tragedy of the public square—demonstrations, political action, and potential violence—a distant memory; and all of us could move on to more productive pursuits.

If you’re looking for ideas how to transition out of government (public) education, check out chapter 9 of the book.