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  • Writer's pictureDrunk Rothbard

Good in Theory

What’s good in theory must be good in practice, or else it’s just bad theory. And vice versa.


Last Saturday, I was at the pool with one of my good friends, celebrating the warm weather with a homemade Drunk Rothbard piña colada fresh from the blender (maybe I’ll feel inspired later this summer and post the recipe) and we got to talking - as often happens when there’s anything booze-based in my hand - about politics.


This friend of mine has his political opinions, but they’re just… I don’t know the best way to say it… blue-pilled. I’ve done my fair share to expose him to some of the things he takes for granted, but he still manages to cling onto to his neocon worldview for dear life.


One of the most frustrating things about talking to him about this stuff is that I get the same response every time. We’ve all heard it. And I’m sure many of us are damn tired of it. It goes like this: “Well, those are all good ideas. But it’s just good in theory. It wouldn’t work in practice.”


I can’t think of a more ridiculous statement. It only goes to show that these people don’t know what they’re talking about. Not only do they not understand philosophy and politics. They don’t even understand theory.


Theory Is an Attempt to Understand Reality.


Murray Rothbard apparently had a similar experience. In “Egalitarianism as a Revolt Against Nature,” he wrote:


…we must challenge the very idea of a radical separation between something that is ‘true in theory’ but ‘not valid in practice.’ If a theory is correct, then it does work in practice; if it does not work in practice, then it is a bad theory.


When we theorize, we are attempting to form a coherent understanding of reality. Good theories set out what they’re designed to do – explain what’s real. Bad theories fail in that regard.


What’s practice? Practice is the application of theory – its enactment or how it is used. If it can’t be used, or can’t be applied, it’s not a good theory.


Yes, some good theories are more or less useful than others. Good theories explain facts, but not all facts are equally necessary for us to know. For example, it’s far more important to understand the causes of cancer than to understand how many grains of sand there are on Mars.


But a good theory, no matter how useful it is, will always be true. Its usefulness does not determine whether or not it “works.” It only determines how badly we need it.


So, Rothbard is right. If a theory is bad in practice – can’t be applied – then it’s a faulty theory. It’s useless and should be abandoned.


I like to think that some people just resort to this phrase because they’re willfully ignorant, or because they’re unwilling to accept defeat in an argument and will do anything to convince themselves and those participating in the conversation that they’re not entirely wrong.


It’s like they’re down by seven with 10 seconds left on the clock in the fourth quarter and all they can go for is the “Hail Marry” – chuck the ball down field and hope someone catches it in the endzone.


That doesn’t change the fact that this argument is commonly used. Since we’re bound to face it so as long as we’re arguing with people who don’t like what we have to say, we have to dive even deeper into what actually makes good theory.


Good Theory is Rooted in Sound Evidence


As stated above, good theory is correct theory.


Ultimately, theories which are backed by sound empirical (observational) evidence as well as logically valid reasoning are more likely to be correct than those that aren’t.


Of course, some things can’t be tested empirically, like politics, philosophy and economic law. Rather, many things are more accurately understood with logical reasoning.


Ideas far different from the status quo, like many of mine, are far too large to experiment with. The only way to accurately empirically “test” an anarcho-capitalist system, for example, would be to implement one on a total scale and collect data.


And at end of the day, none of the statistical data gathered from such an experiment could even tell us what’s right or wrong. If such a system were to increase unemployment by 1% (that’s an if) how can we jump from that to the conclusion that the system is bad? Is the fact that everyone is employed even necessary for a system to be “good”?


What if, under another system, everyone is employed, but they’re employed inefficiently - digging holes, and filling them back up again all day? Would this system still be better? If everyone was digging holes and no one was producing food, clean water, clothing and shelter, surely this world would be no better than hell!


What all this goes to show is that though empirical evidence is not entirely useless, we always need reason to make sense of it. At best, observation can only go as far to answer the questions of who, what, when, where and how. It can never truly answer the question of why.


Pending on the nature of the problem that a theory is aimed at solving, or the question it’s aimed at answering, theory must rely on a greater or lesser degree of both empirical and rational evidence.


If the theory is trying to answer the question, “What color is the sky?” of course we can rely almost purely on empirical evidence. But if it’s aimed at answering more complex questions like “How should I act?” or is concerned with more complex, or “untestable,” phenomenon such as entire economies or political systems, reason becomes increasingly necessary to forge good theory.


Theory is in Line with Natural Law


Since good theory is in line with reality, theory can only conclude what’s in line with natural law.


Natural laws are universal and unchanging. I touched on this on the blog a few weeks ago. These consist of the laws of chemistry and physics as well as laws of logic and morality.


Since they remain the same over time and apply to everyone, everywhere, natural laws are constants.


As human beings, we have free will. We can always at least attempt to act contrary to natural law if we choose to. Since we can all act differently and those actions can change according to different circumstances, actions can be considered variables.


Different variables, though, are still bound by the rules of the constants. Remember, the constants are unchanging. But a change in the variables will result in a change in outcome. And if you change the variable (act differently), you’ve got to accept the given outcome.


If you drink too many beers, for example, you’re going to throw up. That’s a natural law, embedded in our anatomy. You can’t change that. What you can change, however, is the number of beers you drink. If you choose to consume one too many, as many of us have before, you’ve got to accept the fact that you’ll get sick. If you don’t want to get sick, don’t drink too many beers. (Easier said than done, I know.)


Unless a theory is only aimed at answering what, who, when or where (all directly observable facts), it must be is concerned with choosing the variables (actions) that lead to desirable outcomes, provided the constants.


If a theory strives to answer the question of why, as any ethical or political theory must do, it also must explain why those particular outcomes are desirable.


Bad theory either ignores or mistakes the constants, chooses undesirable outcomes or chooses variables that don’t lead to the desired outcomes.


Why All This Is Important to Understand


Knowing how to dispute the “good in theory, bad in practice” paradigm will leave a lot of our dear friends’ arguments defenseless. But that’s for the better. Let them take off the blindfold and look reality in the eyes. It’s good for them, and it’s good for all of us.


Good theory is something we should all seek to adapt in all our endeavors. To implement good theory into practice is necessary to success in everything we do. Putting bad theory into practice is only to act on falsehood. To knowingly continue to do so is to be dishonest to yourself and others.


This isn’t just about politics. It’s not even just about philosophy. Operate according to reality. Don’t do things that you know are rooted in falsehood. I shouldn’t have to explain why.


Ultimately, disproving the “good in theory, bad in practice” myth is good because… well… it, in itself, is a bad theory.


ONE LAST THING!


As I finish up this week, I want to point out a few changes that are coming to the blog. For one, next week will be my last post on this site. Starting in June, I’ll be on the NoTread Network, a media entertainment platform I’m starting with two of my friends from Auburn.


As for the next two blogs, they’ll be a little bit different. Next week, I’m going to talk about NoTread in more detail and explain what I’m hoping will come of it. The week after that – my first week on the new website – I’ll explain the slightly new direction my blog will be taking in the future.


All that being said, just make sure you stay up to date on Twitter with both my account (@drunkrothbard) and the NoTread Network account (@NotreadThe) which, yes, doesn’t have any content right now, but I promise. We’ll be posting as soon as the website is up and running.


Thank ya, folks.


DR

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