Dr. Seuss and Philosophy

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  He snapped, “I’m the Lorax who speaks for the trees

  which you seem to be chopping as fast as you please.

  But I’m also in charge of the Brown Bar-ba-loots

  who played in the shade in their Bar-ba-loot suits

  and happily lived, eating Truffula Fruits.

  NOW . . . thanks to your hacking my trees to the ground,

  there’s not enough Truffula Fruit to go ’round.

  And my poor Bar-ba-loots are all getting the crummies

  Because they have gas and no food in their tummies!” (Lorax)

  By taking so many trees that the Bar-ba-loots have to go without, the Once-ler has reached the limits of his permissible labor mixing.

  By claiming that he speaks for the trees as well as for the Bar-ba-loots, the Lorax also raises another issue. Can nature itself have property rights? If this were so, then it would seem that even resources in their natural state are not considered “in common” to take as we please, since they would be the property of nature itself. Were this true, then no amount of labor that Horton mixes with the egg can make it his. The ecologist Garrett Hardin argues that this notion of nature as “the commons” inevitably leads to there not being “enough and as good for others.”

  The tragedy of the commons develops in this way. Picture a pasture open to all. It is to be expected that each herdsman will try to keep as many cattle as possible on the commons. . . . [T]he rational herdsman concludes that the only sensible course for him to pursue is to add another animal to his herd. And another; and another. . . . But this is the conclusion reached by each and every rational herdsman sharing a commons. Therein is the tragedy. Each man is locked into a system that compels him to increase his herd without limit—in a world that is limited. Ruin is the destination toward which all men rush, each pursuing his own best interest in a society that believes in the freedom of the commons. Freedom in a commons brings ruin to all.6

  Hardin claims that a labor-mixing system of property rights that assumes a “commons” provided by nature will eventually lead to injustice. Locke had difficulty in realizing this, for in his day there seemed to be plenty of resources to go around. Back then there was plenty of land available in the so-called New World. He says, “[L]et him plant in some inland, vacant places of America, we shall find that the possessions he could make himself, upon the measures we have given, would not be very large, nor, even to this day, prejudice the rest of mankind, or give them reason to complain.”7 Yet these once “vacant places” weren’t truly vacant; they were simply occupied by natives whose system of property rights did not include the concept of individual ownership of land. This view opened them up to easy exploitation by settlers from the so-called Old World who did think of land as individual property.

  But even if we did consider such “vacant places of America” to be “commons,” they are filling up fast—so fast that one country in the Americas has already recognized that unrestricted use of nature’s commons may lead to disaster. In September of 2008, Ecuador became the first nation on earth to spell out in its Constitution that nature itself has inalienable rights, including the “right to exist, persist, maintain and regenerate its vital cycles, structure, functions and its processes in evolution.”8 Perhaps there is no “commons” provided for us by nature, after all. Later in Hardin’s paper he admits that “our legal system of private property plus inheritance is unjust—but we put up with it because we are not convinced, at the moment, that anyone has invented a better system. The alternative of the commons is too horrifying to contemplate. Injustice is preferable to total ruin.”9

  So the labor-mixing theory seems to be the best we have because we have to have some way of making something ours. Locke points out that otherwise we couldn’t even survive because we couldn’t even eat without violating someone’s (or something’s) rights: “The fruit, or venison, which nourishes the wild Indian, . . . must be his, and so his, i.e., a part of him, that another can no longer have any right to it, before it can do him any good for the support of his life.”10 So when Peter T. Hooper yanks an egg out from under the Moth-Watching Sneth in order to scramble up supper, though he might be violating nature’s rights, we allow him to do it in order that he (and we) may survive. But remember: after the very last Truffula Tree fell and the Once-ler’s business went belly-up he was forced to scrape a living telling stories on the Street of the Lifted Lorax for the measly sum of “15 cents and a nail and the shell of a great-great-great-grandfather snail” (Lorax). Thus, even a farsighted self-interest should tell us that we must be careful not to overexploit nature’s commons.

  A bird who bites off any more than she chews is

  Taking too much, ’cause it’s more than she uses.

  So we are back to the labor-mixing theory. Mayzie, in fact, had to undergo labor—in something very close to the child-birthing sense—to lay the egg in the first place, and she also did some work of her own in incubating it at the beginning. Indeed, at the beginning of the story, before Horton appears on the scene, she is complaining that “It’s work!” (Hatches). No amount of labor that Horton adds can take away the labor Mayzie has already contributed. So how could the egg be his?

  Locke noted one other limit to labor mixing. If someone takes more than he or she can use, that’s also too much. “It will perhaps be objected to this, that if gathering the acorns, or other fruits of the earth, &c. makes a right to them, then any one may ingross as much as he will. To which I answer, Not so. . . . As much as any one can make use of to any advantage of life before it spoils, so much he may by his labour fix a property in: whatever is beyond this, is more than his share, and belongs to others.”11

  If Horton could make the case that Mayzie had taken more than she could use, he might be able to claim the egg should be his. He might appeal to “squatter’s rights,” or what lawyers call “adverse possession.” This is the notion that if a person “squats” on, or takes possession of a property that another person has abandoned and maintains possession for a specific length of time (which varies according to local statutes), then the squatter gains a right to that property. Locke’s labor-mixing theory provides justification for this idea because of the fact that one cannot lay claim to more than one can make use of before it spoils. If one person owns a property but is not making use of it and another person is making use of it, it makes perfect sense to say that the person who is willing to make use of it may lay claim to it. Even though a piece of land might not actually spoil, if it lies fallow for a year then that year’s potential crop production has been wasted. The lost year can never be regained. Squatter’s rights arose in part to discourage such wastefulness.

  This seems to be what is going on in Thidwick the Big-Hearted Moose. Thidwick offers a tiny Bingle Bug a ride on his antlers, but the bug invites more and more creatures aboard to join him, until the poor moose can barely move. Thidwick is big-hearted, of course, and he believes it’s his duty to provide hospitality to his guests, so he allows them to remain, even though it means he can’t migrate with the rest of his herd, and so he goes hungry and becomes a target for hunters. The creatures in his antlers, however, seem to be invoking squatter’s rights rather than the ancient law of hospitality, when they say, “These horns are our home and you’ve no right to take / Our home to the far distant side of the lake!” (Thidwick). They claim that the antlers are now their property. But this is a misapplication of squatter’s rights. A person who takes possession of a property under permission of the owner, like a tenant or invited guest, does not gain squatter’s rights, because the original owner is making use of the property—by choosing to allow someone else to use it.12

  But can Horton the Elephant appeal to squatter’s rights? He has, in fact, been squatting (literally, so he won’t crush it) on the egg for almost a year. In most areas, anywhere from five to fifteen years of possession are required before adverse possession can be invoked, so Horton probably hasn’t squatted long enough. But even if he had, Mayzie gra
nted him permission. Squatter’s rights can only be invoked if the squatter has not received permission from the owner. Horton agreed to watch over the egg while Mayzie took a vacation. However, Mayzie has apparently abandoned the egg, for she “Decided she’d NEVER go back to her nest!” (Hatches). Perhaps a court might award squatter’s rights to Horton in a clear case of abandonment since he kept the egg from “spoiling.”

  For Locke, the problem of taking more than one can use before it spoils seems to disappear after the concept of money, “a little piece of yellow metal, which would keep without wasting or decay,” is introduced.13 Money allows one to sell the fruit of one’s labor before it spoils, or even to sell one’s labor itself. And since money doesn’t spoil it seems there should be no limit on how much money one should be allowed to acquire. One can even make use of money after one is dead by leaving it to one’s heirs or by leaving specific instructions for its use in a will.

  Money ushers in a need for an economic system to organize its transfer because some types of labor appear to be worth more than others. A free-market economy is one method by which one can determine the nominal value of labor or its fruits. Whatever price the buyer and seller are willing to agree upon is its nominal value. Adam Smith distinguishes this nominal monetary value, which can fluctuate with the market, from its real value, which is more Lockean in nature. “Labour, therefore, is the real measure of the exchangeable value of all commodities. The real price of every thing, what every thing really costs to the man who wants to acquire it, is the toil and trouble of acquiring it.”14 Smith believes that a market economy will allow self-interest to allocate resources in the best way, and describes an “invisible hand,” which is not really a hand at all but the sum total of myriad individual selfish transactions that together guide a society to produce just the right quantity and variety of goods. “By pursuing his own interest he [every individual] frequently promotes that of the society more effectually than when he really intends to promote it.”15

  How should we divvy up all of these bucks?

  And what of those folks who are down on their lucks?

  But of course the free market can lead to injustices. Sylvester McMonkey McBean, the Fix-It-Up Chappie, is able to make off with every last cent of the Sneetches’ money by promoting an artificial demand for the latest Star-Belly fashions, which in no way promotes the interests of society (except, perhaps, by teaching the Sneetches a costly lesson). With a monopoly on belly stars and their removal, the greedy McBean can charge whatever he likes; there is no competition to keep the prices down. McBean engages in price gouging and market manipulation to exploit the star-stricken creatures. Indeed, some such business transactions that are now being called “antisocial” (in the sense that they produce no real goods or jobs for society but just move money around) may be partly responsible for the recent worldwide economic crisis. But while there may well be individual instances of injustice and transactions that are detrimental to society, Smith contends that in the long run the “invisible hand” of the free market will promote society’s overall interest.16

  However, such injustices may be enough to trigger a revolution. In Seuss’s I Had Trouble in Getting to Solla Sollew, the narrator falls in with a chap with a One-Wheeler Wubble, who offers him a ride. But when the Wubble needs pulling the narrator is stuck doing all the work while the Wubble chap sits back with nothing to do but to pick which road to take.

  “Now, really!” I thought, “this is rather unfair!”

  But he said, “Don’t you stew. I am doing my share.

  This is called teamwork. I furnish the brains.

  You furnish the muscles, the aches, and the pains . . .”

  Then he sat and he worked with his brain and his tongue

  And he bossed me around, just because I was young. (Trouble)

  Alhough this seems to the narrator to be rather unfair, there may be an excellent reason why some jobs that appear to be much less work get much more pay (or in this case, better perks, like being able to ride in the Wubble instead of pulling it). The “brain and tongue” work that the Wubble chap does may require certain skills that are in high demand but short supply. It may have taken the Wubble chap years of training to learn the safe paths through the steep mountain trails. Because it took a great deal of time and hard work to learn the highly skilled profession of Wubble driving, it may indeed be fair for the chap to ask the narrator, in return, to furnish the muscles, aches, and pains. After all, muscles, aches, and pains are probably in much more plentiful supply than highly skilled brains, and hence would be cheaper in the free market. Plus, the chap owns the Wubble, presumably having bought it as an investment hoping to gain some return from it. By risking his own capital, he deserves to make a profit if he can. Indeed, a capitalist economy can’t function without such entrepreneurs.

  Still, inequalities like this can lead to a disgruntled labor force. If labor, according to the labor-mixing theory, is what produces property, then it would seem the labor force should wind up quite wealthy as a result. However, due to unfair exploitation by those like McBean and the Wubble-chap, property may wind up being distributed quite differently. If the people doing the largest share of the work, who are the creators of all the wealth, are not being compensated adequately for their labor, the situation can lead to revolution. This, in essence, is what is described in the Communist Manifesto, that claims such a revolution is inevitable as the proletariat, or working class, become further alienated from the fruits of their labor.17 Seuss illustrates (literally) just such a revolution with a plain little turtle named Mack.

  Yertle the Turtle King is king of all that he can see, but he wants to see more so that he can rule more. To that end, he enlists the aid of his fellow turtles in the Sala-ma-Sond pond to build his throne higher so that he can see farther. They throw themselves into the task by stacking their own bodies higher and higher so that Yertle may sit higher and higher. King Yertle gets a wonderful view. All the turtles’ labor winds up generating quite a bit of property for him. But a plain little turtle speaks up from the very bottom of the massive turtle stack:

  “I know, up on top you are seeing great sights,

  But down at the bottom, we, too, should have rights.

  We turtles can’t stand it. Our shells will all crack!

  Besides, we need food. We are starving!” groaned Mack. (Yertle)

  Eventually, if the proletariat is not seeing the results of its hard work to the point of not even having their basic needs met while management and the owners reap all of the rewards for doing very little, then the labor force will revolt, or will at least have the moral authority to do so.

  Communist revolutions indeed broke out in many parts of the world during the past century, creating societies based in theory (if not in practice) on the idea that instead of property being distributed through a free market based on the value of one’s own labor, property should be distributed “from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs!”18 However, the end of the Cold War and the opening of capitalist markets to many of these former communist regimes, including the former Soviet Union and China, suggest that Smith’s invisible hand is a more successful, if not always just, method of distributing goods in a society.

  But such revolutions, regardless of their ultimate success, suggest that property rights may require redistribution at some point, for a couple of reasons. First, for practical purposes, in order to make sure such revolutions do not happen, some method of making sure that the labor force is not overexploited may be needed. So even a devout free-market capitalist like McBean should at least recognize that taking care of the basic needs and rights of the labor force is imperative to avoid a violent revolution, and thus rich capitalists should be willing to redistribute some of their wealth to those less fortunate. But it’s not just about prudence and practicality. While a laissez-faire free-market economy may be an efficient way to promote society’s best interest overall, it’s not always just. There are c
ompelling moral reasons besides enlightened self-interest to make sure that basic needs are met and basic rights are respected. Simple ownership rights may, in some cases, be overridden by higher moral values, such as the rights of everyone to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. If the labor force is starving and is forced to work under oppressive conditions, then it seems that rights to both life and liberty are being ignored. So we need a framework of distributive justice that can acknowledge and allocate property rights while at the same time recognizing that some property might need to be reallocated to fulfill other moral imperatives. Property is not an absolute right—there are limits, and sometimes redistribution is morally demanded. One prominent theory of distributive justice is that of John Rawls (1921–2002), who invokes a principle of “justice as fairness.”19

  Rawls argues that to decide a fair method of distribution, we must put ourselves in what he calls the “original position”:

  This original position . . . is understood as a purely hypothetical situation characterized so as to lead to a certain conception of justice. Among the essential features of this situation is that no one knows his place in society, his class position or social status, nor does anyone know his fortune in the distribution of natural assets and abilities, his intelligence, strength, and the like. . . . The principles of justice are chosen behind a veil of ignorance. This ensures that no one is advantaged or disadvantaged in the choice of principles by the outcome of natural chance or the contingency of social circumstances.20

 

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