Cooper, Aristocracy, and Capitalism

Allan M. Axelrad
(California State University at Fullerton)

At the height of antirent strife in eastern New York in the 1840s, tenants disguised as Indians violently resisted rent collection. Their costumes evoked the Boston Tea Party, republican patriotism, and defiance of aristocracy. These Indians along with many of their contemporaries and subsequent historians saw their rebellion against landlords and leases as a repudiation of the last stronghold of aristocratic entitlement in the northern states.

James Fenimore Cooper's 1846 novel, The Redskins, is about antirenters disguised as Indians, republicanism, and aristocratic ideas in America. The Dictionary of American Regional English took a sentence from the novel for its first example of the Americanism aristocratic. The sentence begins by establishing that a landlord's home called "Ravensnest" was thought "aristocratic" meaning "Stylish, culturally superior" a standard usage then and now. The sentence continues, however, by calling attention to the "expansive signification" of the "word 'aristocratic'" with "its meaning depending on the particular habits and opinions of the person who happens to use it."¹ The full sentence actually muddies the meaning and also appears to contain a complaint. If the "meaning" depends on the user, there is license for abuse.

In point of fact, Cooper complained repeatedly about the "expansive signification" of the words aristocratic, aristocrat, and aristocracy, and repeatedly aired his opinions about their proper signification. Cooper's contemporaries were deaf to what he had to say. Most scholars have been deaf as well. Yet almost every body Cooper, other New Yorkers, later scholars thought the anti rent wars had to do with aristocracy. Most placed aristocrats on the landlords' side. But Cooper placed them on the tenants' side. Despite vast differences, all agreed that to be aristocratic was elitist and undemocratic, and even, some felt, unAmerican.

This is not surprising since the American Revolution had been fought against an aristocratic regime. Before the Revolution (though mostly from a transatlantic distance), aristocracy had to do with class prerogatives ranging from the establishment of taste to economic and political power that became problematic afterward. But changes in status, the arbitration of taste, and political and economic power also took place within a context of a burgeoning commercialism that rapidly transformed the new republic into a vast capitalist civilization. New forms of power and prestige brought new challenges to republicanism and renewed charges of aristocracy, as Cooper and his contemporaries continued to use the term aristocracy to denounce unrepublican behavior. The confusion over signification resulted from contexts that ranged from the old European caste system to nineteenth-century capitalism.

* * *

When the Coopers returned from abroad in 1833, in Lewis Leary's words, "they must have seemed aloof and aristocratic, their attitude in sinuating criticism of American ways. Everything about them was strange, their clothes, the furniture they imported, their foreign servants, and the manners of the children 'Even the cat was French.'"² Though a bit of a caricature, this is a common construction of what they seemed like on their return: they had "aristocratic" airs. This image was fixed in the popular mind in thinly disguised fiction in Home As Found in 1838. Cooper might have been a literary hero, but he also was a Democrat; in the highly charged political atmosphere of the day, even the author of The Last of the Mohicans was considered fair game for Whig sharpshooters. Cooper's "aristocratic airs" are "monstrous," The New-Yorker reported in 1839, adding that they "would be ludicrous" if not so "peevish and malignant."³ Libel suits abounded. In the spirit of this acrimony, the epithet aristocrat was hurled back and forth.

Cooper's adversarial relationship with the press and public was partly the outcome of partisan politics. Adopting their opponents' strategy, the Whigs now sought to discredit Democrats by making them appear aristocratic. But much that he wrote on returning from Europe fed into their political strategy.⁴ Many Americans, proud of their egalitarian society, were offended by Cooper's patrician pronouncements. "The class" at the top of the social hierarchy, he explained, "is the natural repository of the manners" and "tastes" and "principles of a country."⁵ As a member of that class, he undertook his obligation to elevate less-well-bred Americans. The enrichment he offered was not received with gratitude. His unappreciative contemporaries instead thought him aristocratic.

Modern scholars have generally agreed,⁶ though a few found that although he was an aristocrat and/or favored aristocracy at times he also seemed opposed to both,⁷ and a few others found his opposition unequivocal.⁸ In their usage, all are correct. Thus the problem of "expansive signification" would appear to have followed Cooper from his time to ours. Whatever else the terms might mean for others, Cooper was quite clear about what they meant to him.

Meanings and manners were a bit confused in America, Cooper realized. "In this part of the world," he thus complained, "it is thought aristocratic not to frequent taverns, and lounge at corners, squirting tobacco juice."⁹ One Cooper character reports that it was thought "aristocratic" for one "to pretend not to blow one's nose with his fingers." "Wa-a-l," another character confesses, "I hear a great deal about aristocrats, and I read a great deal about aristocrats, in this country, and I know that most folks look upon them as hateful, but I'm by no means sartain I know what an aristocrat is" (R, 164, 146).

In his 1843 novel, Autobiography Of a Pocket-Handkerchief, Cooper poked fun at the misuse of the word, for it is the story of "an exceedingly aristocratic pocket-handkerchief" whose "mesmeritic powers" that is "handkerchiefly speaking" enable observation even when stuffed in a drawer.¹⁰ The pocket-handkerchief states the problem: being thought "aristocratic" in the United States "ranks as an eighth deadly sin, though no one seems to know precisely what it means." To be so "stigmatized" is to be "tainted" with a "crime" that no "governor would dare to pardon" (PH, 49). Though "nothing is considered so disreputable in America as to be 'aristocratic,' a word of very extensive signification, as it embraces the tastes, the opinions, the habits, the virtues, and sometimes the religion of the offending party," the handkerchief notes, "on the other hand, nothing is so certain to attract attention as nobility" (PH, 200). Americans were repelled by and drawn to aristocracy. Such is the case of "nouveaux riches" like Eudosia Halfacre, who wishes to "pass for aristocratic" and thus pays one-hundred dollars to buy "the highest-priced handkerchief, by twenty dollars, that ever crossed the Atlantic" (PH, 51, 128, 120). By contrast, Anne and Maria, "the daughters of a gentleman of very large estate" who "belonged to the true élite of the country," turned down the opportunity to buy it: "They don't believe that a night-cap is intended for a bed-quilt" (PH, 117, 120).

The old elite had taste, Cooper maintained, but they were not aristocrats. They were rural gentry. The distinction between a landed and a business elite was crucial to Cooper. In his formulation, commercial wealth combined with political power not title or family name was the key to aristocracy.¹¹ Cooper was quick to take issue with "perversions of significations" of "American language" (AD, 110),¹² like conflating gentry and aristocracy. "To call a man who has the habits and opinions of a gentleman, aristocrat," he declared, "is an abuse of terms" (AD, 88). Gentry are not aristocrats, he endlessly explained. They lack political power. "Aristocracy means exclusive political privileges in the hands of a few," he insisted, "and it means nothing else."¹³ Since aristocrats "wield political power" (R, 472), the form and character of the government was quite critical.

In The Politics Aristotle named three "correct" forms of government: "aristocracy," "kingship," and "polity." Moreover, each had a degenerative form: "oligarchy from aristocracy," "tyranny from kingship," and "democracy from polity."¹⁴ Cooper also named three forms of government: "aristocracy, monarchy, or democracy" (PH, 202). But where Aristotle claimed three "correct" and three degenerative forms, Cooper claimed only two "correct" forms: monarchy and republic. "It is to be regretted the world does not discriminate more justly in its use of political terms," he averred: "Governments are usually called either monarchies or republics."¹⁵ Most importantly, they share the same degenerative form: aristocracy. "Republicks" are either "democratical" or "aristocratical," he wrote (AD, 11). Aristocracy is the degenerative form of monarchy as well. Thus after the Glorious Revolution England began to change "its form of government, from that of a monarchy to that of an exceedingly repressive aristocracy."¹⁶ Attempts by the aristocracy to oppress the colonies produced the American Revolution.¹⁷ Likewise, the French Revolution resulted from aristocrats conspiring to overthrow the monarchy.¹⁸ All over Europe, he thought, aristocrats were conspiring to overthrow monarchies; soon aristocracy would become the only form of government¹⁹.

Cooper worried about the United States. "Aristocracies are often er republicks than any thing else," he lamented, "and they have been among the most oppressive governments the world has ever known" (AD, 19-20). In Europe commercial aristocracy gained power by subverting executive prerogative, thus he was anxious about attacks on executive rights at home from the combination of commercial interests and Congress. "As a class, and as politicians," he declared, American businessmen "are aristocrats."²⁰ He was also anxious about urbanization, since aristocracy was more likely to develop in "metropolitan" than in agricultural regions (AD, 54).

In 1831 in The Bravo Cooper examined an urban commercial aristocracy. Though set in eighteenth-century Venice, Cooper claimed "the Bravo" is "in spirit, the most American book I ever wrote."²¹ The "moral" of the tale, he explained, is that throughout history republics have been transformed into aristocracies (LC, 14). It happened to the Republic of Venice. It could happen here as well. "I had an abundant occasion to observe that the great political contest of the age was not" between "monarchy and democracy" as most think, he explained. Monarchy, "except as it is fraudulently maintained as a cover" by "aristocrats," is "virtually extinct in christendom" (LC, 11- 12). Thus the real political contest of the nineteenth century was between aristocracy and democracy. The Bravo warned Americans of the threat of aristocracy from the dangerous combination of business interests and the legislature.²² In The Bravo the Doge, "a tool of the aristocracy," is chief of state in name only; like the King of England, his power was long ago usurped by a "luxurious and affluent aristocracy" (B, 367, 104). Commercial interests have transformed the Republic of Venice into an absolute aristocracy in which the people have lost their freedom.

In the era of the American Revolution, Venice was a symbol of what could happen to a free people who were not vigilant about their rights. At the heart of the republican ideology of the Founding Fathers was an intense awareness of both the preciousness and fragility of the liberty for which they fought. Cooper drew upon that ideology and the symbol of Venice to express his fear of an American business aristocracy, the effacement of the Constitution, and ensuing loss of liberty.

The Bravo presented his worst-case scenario. Yet Cooper granted that a mixed government monarchy and aristocracy or democracy and aristocracy might be tolerable if the aristocracy was mild. "States" like "Virginia" might "be termed representative democracies" from the perspective of "their white population"; nonetheless, he concluded, they are, "even now, mild aristocracies" when "their whole population" is "considered" (LC, 61). The problem, of course, was slavery. Cooper recognized an affinity between aristocracy and slavery. "So long as slavery exists in the country," he lamented, "some portion of this aristocratic infusion will probably remain" (AD, 20-21). In his view, an "aristocracy" built upon slavery was "more" compatible with "republicanism than democracy." Full citizenship was restricted in a republic; in a democracy it was open to all men. For that reason, slavery belonged to America's republican past, not its democratic future. "It is opposed to the spirit of the age," he thus concluded.²³

In the main, however, his fears of aristocracy were generated by business activity in the North, particularly when it benefitted from legislative patronage and was controlled by corporations. From the 1780s onward Americans had heatedly debated the growing presence of corporations in their land. For many, corporations were anti- republican and aristocratic because they received special privilege and corrupted the political system.²⁴ Their proliferation reinforced and graphically illustrated Cooper's fear of an aristocratic subversion of American democracy, since acts of incorporation required the active complicity of legislators and businessmen. The Bravo equated "aristocracy" with "corporations," and looked into Europe's past to caution against a future America ruled by "a soulless corporation" (B, 146, 148).²⁵ Sensing urgency, Cooper repeatedly warned his countrymen of the threat of business aristocracy. Had he belonged to a later generation he would have called this peril capitalism.

At first glance, Autobiography Of a Pocket-Handkerchief appears to make light-hearted fun of aristocrats and aristocratic pretensions. On closer inspection the work seems more somber, for it is a tale about capitalist exploitation.²⁶ Eudosia Halfacre, the nouveaux riches American who paid one-hundred dollars for the handkerchief, calls upon trickle-down economics to rationalize such extravagance. "The luxuries of the rich," she thinks, "give employment to the poor, and cause money to circulate." She innocently assumes that workers receive a fair return on their labor: "Now, this handkerchief of mine, no doubt, has given employment to some poor French girl for four or five months, and, of course, food and raiment." She confidently asserts that the seamstress "earned...fifty of the hundred dollars" she "paid" (PH, 142). The pocket-handkerchief knows better. "Alas, poor Adrienne!" it says, thinking of the unfortunate "French girl" who labored for months on the embroidery. "Thou did'st not receive for me as many francs as this fair calculator gave thee dollars." Here Cooper inserted a table itemizing expenses and profits associated with the production and sale of the pocket-handkerchief, thereby supporting the handkerchief's understated conclusion that Adrienne would have been "richer" and "much happier" had she "spared" herself "so many, many hours of painful and anxious toil!" (PH, 143)

Adrienne had been born into a good family that fell onto hard times due to the subversion of the French monarchy by aristocrats. The family chateau was turned into a factory. Nearly destitute and the sole support of her aged grandmother, by day she worked for a milliner who paid her poorly, keeping her "in ignorance of her own value." By night she embroidered the pocket-handkerchief. In both cases the products are sold at a considerable profit, but she does not receive a fair return on her labor. In assessing the cost of aristocratic "frivolities," the pocket- handkerchief explains: "their luxuries, have two sets of victims to plunder the consumer, and the real producer, or the operative" (PH, 73).

Though "misery" and "oppression" are the worker's usual lot (PH, 73), this tale ends otherwise. Adrienne crosses the Atlantic to be a governess, falls in love with a New York gentleman of large estate (who turns out to be a distant cousin), reunites with the pocket- handkerchief, and presumably lives happily ever after. We learn that breeding, not money, is the key to true upper-class membership. The fairy tale ending does not mask the ascendant economic forces that drive the narrative: inadequate wages, dehumanized labor, charging a market price rather than fair price, reckless speculation, and a generally unfeeling and irresponsible system that objectifies people and desensitizes businessmen to the human consequences of their activities. Moreover, we recognize that Adrienne was quite lucky to have escaped the "slavish" labor that had seemed to be her fate. In recalling her "days of want and sorrow" when she was a "trodden on and abused hireling," Adrienne says, "I toiled for bread like an Eastern slave" (PH, 73, 227, my italics). Her lament links business and aristocracy (what we call capitalism) and slavery.

* * *

Fear of slavery was a marked concern in antebellum republican thought. This fear had multiple sources. Most obvious was slavery in the South, providing a constant reminder to all Americans what loss of freedom meant. But as Adrienne's lament demonstrates, Cooper was well aware of the condition popularly known as wage slavery in the North. Wage slavery occurred in factories, or, potentially, wherever there was hired labor. Banks, corporations, monopolies were other forms of economic enterprise that were often thought to be harbingers of slavery at this time.²⁷ Southern plantations, northern industry, banks, corporations, and monopolies were all included under the rubric aristocracy in Cooper's lexicon, and all were linked to slavery.

Fear of slavery was central to the republican ideology of the lead ers of the American Revolution.²⁸ Cooper was a conservative republican,²⁹ ideologically closer to that generation than his own, who clung to an idealized vision of old New York, led by rural gentry motivated by noblesse oblige. He worried that this old order was being replaced by an urban, business aristocracy. As imaginative constructs, these worlds were polar opposites. The pastoral world of the gentry could be characterized by a warm paternalism, republican virtue, human dignity, and liberty. The urban world of the aristocracy could be characterized by corporate impersonality, business (or capitalist) greed, human degradation, and slavery.

No wonder Cooper railed against what he considered improper employment of the "term aristocracy" whose "vulgar use" had "perverted its signification" to include "gentry of democracies" (AD, 54) like himself. In postcolonial America, aristocrat was a term of opprobrium used to vilify political or economic enemies. Like most of his fellow countrymen, Cooper detested aristocrats, agreed that aristocratic behavior was unrepublican, and was vehemently opposed to aristocracy. Cooper's aristocrats were businessmen (we would call them capitalists). One character, adopting a German accent for disguise, further explained: "dem as vat you calls dimigogues be der American arisdograts. Dey gets all der money of der pooblic, und haf all der power" (R, 154). Using oratory and the press to manipulate public opinion, they sought economic privileges for themselves. If their legislative power was unchecked, the republic would degenerate into an aristocracy.

Fear of aristocracy caused Cooper to worry about increasing commercialism and particularly the spread of monopolistic corporations. From his early writings onward he warned about "congress" granting "monopoly" causing exploitation and ultimately "tyranny."³⁰ The problem was capitalism, or, more accurately, corporate capitalism. "Aristocracies" he repeatedly pointed out exhibited "the irresponsible nature of corporations"; without "personal feelings" or "human impulses," they had an insatiable appetite for economic power (AD, 59). Under aristocracy the people could be callously exploited, deprived of basic rights, and even reduced to slavery. That was the consummate signification of aristocracy for Cooper.

* * *

If the antirent wars and Cooper's novel, The Redskins, were both about aristocracy, they were also both about capitalism. As many commentators have noted, New York's great manorial estates obstructed economic development in agriculture, commercial enterprise, and industry. In the interests of development, corporations had applied the power of eminent domain to build turnpikes, canals, and railroads, thus providing a serviceable model for tenants seeking their right to unrestricted enterprise. In this manner, small entrepreneurs and corporations found common cause under the banner of capitalism against great estates and old wealth. But the landlords had also practiced capitalism, seeking profit from private property based on inherited privileges. With the landlords' defeat in the antirent wars, one form of capitalism gave way to another, rearranging the social structure as well as economic and political power.³¹ All parties in the conflict supported capitalism. In the expansive signification of American English, all supported aristocracy as well.

ARISTOCRACY OF THE MIND

O.T. FORD, 2003 DECEMBER 8

For translation of an unfamiliar word, place the cursor over the word.

‘Virtue’ is the usual gloss of the ΕΛΛΗΝΙΚΗ word ‘ΑΡΕΤΗ’. W.K.C. Guthrie points out that ‘ΑΡΕΤΗ’ actually refers to excellence, and in fact to specific excellence.¹ Guthrie in fact refers first to ‘efficiency’; ΑΡΕΤΗ is “being good at something”. It is, therefore, different from one activity to the next. The excellence in an activity is inherent to the activity. ΑΡΕΤΗ for a soldier was courage, for a magistrate, justice, for a laborer, strength and endurance.

The ΕΛΛΗΝΕΣ did not preclude the possibility of a general ΑΡΕΤΗ for a person. But specific excellence for a person would be what makes a person excellent considered as a person, which requires that we understand the essential nature of a person. The question certainly engaged the ΕΛΛΗΝΙΚΟΙ thinkers; it has not been settled since, to no great astonishment.

Any pronouncement on the fundamental quality of a person is, then, likely to be viewed as subjective and to fall in the middle of a grand controversy. But even in that, we may have an answer. The individual is, in my judgement, fundamentally a mind, a res cogitans, the element in the universal system that thinks. The mind perceives, processes, forms judgements, and effects those judgements using its limited ability to control the world. It is certainly possible that not all of these properties and processes in the universal system are attributable to a single integral entity; but this is probably impossible to establish one way or the other. All of these properties and processes do exist in the system, though, and if we consider them collectively as belonging to a single unit within the system, we can then define that as the mind, as an example of personality in the system.

The specific excellence of that element, the mind, is almost self-evident. It would be excellence in perceiving, processing, forming judgements, and effecting judgements. Not all of these, if taken at their broadest interpretations, can translate into virtues of the conventional sort. Excellence in processing within the mind is mostly an inherent quality on which the individual can have no influence, in which the individual cannot hope to improve. Excellence in effecting judgements is at least partially a matter of physical qualities, of for instance the strength that might be required in certain contests over outcomes in the world. Excellence in perceiving is likewise partially determined by physical abilities, and partially by circumstances. Those deprived of sight or the freedom to fully explore the world cannot gain as much information through perception. But none of these limitations is connected to virtues of the mind, of personality, since they are not qualities located within personality. (They are human traits, to be sure, but if we consider what would distinguish a person from a biochemical machine, they are human traits that could belong as well to the machine.) What emerges from the exclusion of uncontrollable physical traits or physico-mental traits is a center of agency, and its excellence lies in using its agency to maximize its agency. The person is an independent actor within the universal system, the location of choice and judgement; and the key choice is to maximize its choice, the key judgement that judgement is a primary function.

To step back from arcane metaphysical language, the ideal person is the one that thinks for itself, that thinks critically, that values its independence of action. It will take in as much information as it can, and seek out yet more information, so that its judgements will be as informed as possible. It will be skeptical about the information, considering its source, considering various interpretations, taking into account the possibility of misinformation and disinformation, taking what is perceived only as evidence for perception itself ― that is, appearance only means a reality of appearance, not of underlying reality.

It will place emphasis on thinking carefully and at length, so that its inherent capacity to think is used to the maximum. This means, in part, believing in its own ability to understand, to make sense of the world. We cannot truly know the native intellect of the world’s individuals until they exercise this to the fullest. That differences exist is perhaps unquestionable, and some will always be smarter than others; but how many concepts are there that are genuinely beyond the ability of the ordinary individual to understand?

The individual will believe only what logic and evidence allow; that is, the individual will only believe according to reason. It may be that reason, as I am convinced, is itself an intuitive process. But the process of understanding even intuitively is more likely to be accurate and effective if it proceeds carefully and with a maximum of analysis, breaking ideas down into simpler ideas. And even if reason is a process that cannot be fully explained or understood, its application can do no damage to the truth. Put otherwise, if something is true, it will withstand examination and still appear true.

Furthermore, rationalism is the safeguard of the truth. The exhortation to take something on faith, which is to say believe it uncritically and without or even contrary to evidence, is an affront not only to rationalism but to truth. The one who demands faith is either seeking to deceive or acting with that purpose on behalf of someone else. At some point in the chain of tradition, deception was a deliberate aim, inserted with the intention of mind control.

Rationalism is therefore also a defense against dominion, in this case the rule of some persons over other persons. The rational person would be skeptical about motives for mind control, and particularly about the process. The rationalist rejects not only the suggestion that a person concealing its motives might have good intentions, but also the idea that the concepts in question are only comprehensible by a select few ― which is the most common attempted reconciliation between the nefarious device of mind control and its claim of good intentions. Faith is the handmaiden of tyranny. That many of its proponents are actually well-intentioned does not excuse their participation. They may not intend to soften up resistance to tyranny, but this is nonetheless the effect; this is certainly what they are doing when they ask the masses, or even tell the masses, not to think. These witting or unwitting servants of dominion state that it is wrong and sinful to question and doubt. They bear some responsibility for delivering that message without questioning it themselves. They should want to know why it is so urgent that challenge and skepticism be suppressed. Such a project, the suppression of challenge, is a gift to those whose methods would not survive challenge, and whose motives must remain hidden because they are not honorable.

Religion as faith is contrary to reason; but the rationalist would also reject religion as community of systematic belief. Convergence of belief is possible and probably desirable, but considering the expansive content of the usual system of belief, convergence on all of this content is unlikely for large numbers of individuals if each is in fact thinking for itself. And in general, this convergence would only be possible with a presupposition of agreement, and that, ultimately, means that many are taking much on faith. We should be cognizant of the intersection of belief sets, and take such intersections as a fortuitous boon to society; but we should not develop intricate belief sets ― doctrines ― and then urge their wholesale, uncritical adoption.

 

Rationalism is the cardinal virtue of the mind. If we were allowed to urge only one virtue, rationalism would be the one, for all others of value can be derived from it. In other words, there are no irrational virtues worth possessing. But this assertion, of course, is dependent upon reason.

Self-interest is often taken as the natural and expected pursuit of the rational being. This may be so; but the usual picture of egoism ― hedonism, materialism, selfish disregard for others and for the consequences of one’s actions ― follows only from a temporal self-interest. The temporal assumption is that the individual is finite and physically independent, disconnected from its surroundings and thus in no way accountable for its actions. The transcendent assumption, on the other hand, is that the world is holistic, that all things are interconnected, and that the choices an individual makes will affect itself, the harm it causes to its surroundings will ultimately harm itself. That the truth may lie anywhere on a continuum from total disconnection to total interconnection matters only by the same degree, since the rational individual must favor the transcendent assumption.

It is a version of Pascal’s wager that settles the issue. Elaborating on the general idea of Pascal, it is proposed that a person should believe in God (the Christian God, creator and judge, all-knowing and all-powerful) because the consequences of mistakenly believing in God are little more than the loss of opportunity to do as one chooses in a finite life, while the consequences of mistakenly disbelieving in God include denial of eternal bliss and probably eternal damnation. Pascal’s wager fails as such because an individual can only choose how to act, not what to believe, and most Christian conceptions of God have God far more concerned with belief than action. The sinner who believes is saved; the saint who disbelieves is not.

But the rational choice between temporal and transcendent is entirely about action. It matters not what one believes, but how one acts. The consequences of mistakenly acting on the transcendent assumption are limited, again, to the loss of opportunity to do exactly as one chooses without consideration. The consequences of mistakenly acting on the temporal assumption can range from living out one’s life in a world marred by one’s actions to the direct experience of all the negative effects ― a rational if unprovable possibility. Of course, the rationalist will recognize the limitations on its knowledge of consequences. But the benefit of the doubt must always go to holism.

The golden rule, the categorical imperative of Immanuel Kant, demands that each of us acts as we would want all of us to act. The veil of ignorance of John Rawls demands that we create a system that is so equitable that we would accept its least-desirable position. These are not altruistic proposals; rather, they are principles for the agreement of a social contract, in which each individual consents to be bound by standards of behavior so that it may know that all other individuals are likewise bound. In a true social contract, individuals are not bound unless all consent, and do not remain bound unless all hold themselves to the agreement, or can be held to it. It is an exchange of an unpredictable, unreliable freedom of action for a stable, negotiated freedom of action.

Altruism and responsibility can thus be derived rationally, even if we concede that rationalism consists, as the objectivists would have it, of looking out for number one. The key is that self-interest must be enlightened self-interest. And when the self-interest of the one is construed as persuading all others to subordinate their real interests to a distorted perception of self-interest that in reality only serves the one, this is the advocacy of reason and self-interest in only the narrowest possible sense, that one should be rational and self-interested, but all others should not be.² And we must wonder at the motives of anyone advocating this view, in which, it would seem, we are ensnared in paradox and circularity. If the proponent of temporal egoism truly believed this, would it not, in fact, be saying whatever was necessary to persuade us to act according to its own interest, rather than ours?

Indoctrination may seem antithetical to reason, but even in a rationalist world, some indoctrination would be unavoidable, if we believe that children enter the world without formed ideas, and defenseless. Rationalism is, as stated, a valuable defense against the mental predators of the world. It is likewise a defense against error. If we truly believe in reason, we would choose rationalism as the first and only object of indoctrination. We must teach children to question and doubt, including to question and doubt us. The child so indoctrinated will be defended even against the predation and error of its indoctrinators. It will also have the necessary and sufficient tool to develop altruism and responsibility. It will recognize the value of an equitable social contract built on respect for others; it will be a good partner in society, rather than a servant of one element of society.

 

The rationalist is not just an iconoclast, though it certainly is that. It is not just an apostate, though apostasy from error and dominion is unquestionably a good result. The rationalist is also a scholar who studies the world, and an intellectual who ponders its ideas. The rationalist is a citizen who participates in its society, rather than a subject of society’s reigning power. The rationalist is a contributor to understanding rather than confusion and deception. The rationalist responsibly creates no more problems for the world than it is prepared to deal with itself, and creates no problems for others that it would not have others create in turn. The rationalist values its own freedom; it therefore does not abuse the freedom of others, lest they feel provoked into curtailing the very freedom so valued.

Cognate with ‘ΑΡΕΤΗ’ is ‘ΑΡΙΣΤΟΝ’ ― best, most excellent.³ The rational person is the one most excellent at personality, at all those things that are essential to being a person. It also, in accord with the general conception of virtue, excels within the community and society. Any discussion and advocacy of virtues carries an implied boast on the part of the author. I am not merely an advocate of rationalism, but a practitioner. And though I do not advocate or claim to practice modesty, it is worth noting that claiming to practice rationalism (however imperfectly) and describing rationalists as the best of society is not as arrogant as it may seem. All religions, for example, lay claim to the truth; and if there is fault in holding one’s own beliefs superior, then not merely the theologians and ministers but the ordinary believers share in that fault. And yet it would be impossible to hold a belief and not consider it true and superior; otherwise, the person would believe something else.

And rationalists constitute an open class in society. Anyone agreeing with the value of rationalism as a virtue can adopt it, and is welcome to do so. Certainly a rationalist like me would desire this, as the widespread adoption of rationalism would make my own self-interest easier to achieve. Among the rational, I need only offer a good logical argument. Reason, furthermore, can be employed in degrees. It is a simple, scalable doctrine, far-removed from the intricate doctrines of conventional religion. And reason is not confined to those gifted with extraordinary intellects. It was a brilliant ruse of those who would rule the world to portray critical thought as the province of a select few, to establish themselves as the thinking class, as a nobility of decision-makers acting on behalf of, for the purported good of, and without the consent of the masses. Even our world’s democracies, in which the masses truly do decide the use of social power and the state of society, have not escaped this trap. Individuals use their individual power, and collectively use their collective power, without seeking the facts, carefully considering them, or logically arriving at conclusions. Their actions are thus often uninformed, and the results unwanted. As is so often the case with a consideration of virtue, the final observation must be the sad dearth of the virtuous in society. Our world would function more as we all claim to want if more of us met our potential as thinkers. It is not a question of ability; it is solely a question of will.

THE ARISTOCRATS Part -2

THE ARISTOCRATS

Aristocrats in ancient Greece were noblemen, born into the upper class. The aristocrats believed that some people were superior to others and it was only through heredity that you could gain such a title. The aristocrats aimed for a society in which the ruling class designated by heredity stayed in power forever. Aristocracy could not be earned within a lifetime, but only through birth.

Origins: The aristocratic order developed to replace kings, after the end of the Mycenaean civilization period around 1200-1100 B.C., and they ruled until the beginning of democracy in Athens, and in other city-states until the time of Alexander the Great, around 337 B.C. Power was divided up and distributed to a very small group of people who gained this right through noble birth. The aristocrats controlled the land, money, military offices, religious offices, and also the political offices. They had a complete economical advantage over the lower classes, primarily through the ownership of land.

Place in Society: An aristocrats place in society was determined by whether or not he had to work to support his household or if he was able to hire someone else to do this for him. Heracleides Ponticus wrote in his treatise, On Pleasure, that pleasure and luxury are the only things that can calm and strengthen the mind; people who work, slaves, and poor people, have smaller minds because they have shrunken from all the hard labor. The aristocrats believed that some people were naturally better than others and this was due to their heredity. Through heredity they created a closed society in which there was no chance of social mobility. The only way to live a privileged life was to own property. The property was the main control that the aristocrats held over the lower class citizens. It gave the Greek aristocrats the opportunity to have the life they chose without having to be bothered by working to support it. This opportunity made it possible for the upper class citizens to devote more time to their hobbies such as hunting, athletics and music, which were necessary activities to participate in to be considered gentlemen.

Education: The success of a young aristocrat depended on whether or not he had been given the proper education by a successful father. A typical education would generally consist of philosophy, athletics, horsemanship, music and hunting. The highest status men would be politicians, but it was not guaranteed that he would be successful. He would not even have a chance if he had not had the correct family background and already had the right political knowledge.

Owners of the Production Means: A large number of the aristocrats owned medium to large farms, on which slaves worked under a slave bailiff, whom was usually a slave put in charge of the other slaves. Others leased out their land for money; some were owners of slave workshops, in which the slaves worked to make things under a slave master who was also a slave, or a freed slave. Some leased out their mines. Others owned merchant ships which they could rent out or use for their own personal trading business. Some had large sums of money which they chose to lend out at very high interest rates. The laws of debt were extremely severe. They permitted types of debt bondage (which is where a person would have to work for the aristocrat a certain amount of time before they were free of their debts, usually seven years and mostly depending on the size of the debt.) and even enslavement for their debts.

Members of the Upper Class: To be considered a member of the upper class in ancient Greece during the Archaic, Classical, and Hellenistic periods, meant having a great deal of land. During these periods, the people who controlled the government were almost always the people that owned the greatest amount of land. The reason for this is that land was very scarce and the only means of production. The only people that could own land were wealthy male citizens and not very often foreigners (metics) would get the privilege through the right of ges enktesis. During the time of aristocratic rule wealth was not measured by the amount of money one gained or had. The way they measured wealth so that they could collect taxes was to take a portion of the crops or some type of levy, usually around ten percent.

Revolts: Throughout the Classical period, 480-323 B.C., most of the Greek city-states tried to keep peace, but there were many revolts against the aristocrats, most ending violently. Adult male citizens were the only people who were generally involved in political class struggles.

Oligarchies: When it was possible for the upper class citizens to have oligarchies, they set them up so that owning land was a requirement, therefore taking away all possibility of the lower class citizens' participation in government. When the city-states were ruled by oligarchies it created a distinct line between the upper and lower class citizens, the upper class being extremely wealthy and the lower class being extremely poor (*oligarchies: a small, closed group of citizens ruling the entire population).

Democracy: Throughout the seventh, sixth, and fifth centuries B.C. there was a shift towards the lower class citizens wanting to have a voice in government. The aristocrats tried to find ways to keep the lower class citizens away from power. In some city-states they succeeded, but in others such as Athens during the fifth century, the aristocrats could not keep the lower class citizens out of the government. Through the constitution of Cleisthenes in 508/7, Athens gained a full democracy.

Almost all of the Greek aristocrats were against any form of democracy. The aristocrats that ruled, ruled in the interest of the smallest amount of people, always supporting their own interests. The upper class citizens looked at themselves as the best and most competent class of people to rule, and believed that they were given this right through their noble birth.

Aristocracy

An aristocracy is a form of government in which rulership is in the hands of an "upper class" known as aristocrats. (The Greek origins of the word aristocracy imply the meaning of "rule by the best".) This inevitably means those with the power to hold wealth and to define who remains in poverty - or, often, slavery

In other Definition –

Aristocracy:

Aristocracy is a name associated with Western Europe and the old days.  There was, for example, up until the midpoint of the Twentieth Century, an automatic assumption among the powers that be that there were two distinct classes:  Aristocracy and Commoners.  This attitude is reflected in Pope Leo XIII’s Encyclical of Condemnation, which was issued against Freemasonry for holding, practicing and encouraging such heretical ideas as equality of human beings (male and female) in all aspects of life; including the right of commoners to remove heads of state and other high ranking officials by the rules of law.  Can you imagine his chagrin at the American Revolution!  

It’s important to note, however, that the Founding Fathers of the United States -- that bastion of radical thoughts such as “all men are created equal” -- these people were in the main, aristocrats.  Locally grown, perhaps, and without titles, but pretty much the elite.  They were also often Freemasons, but that’s another issue.  For the most part, they were the people with the money, power, social standing, connections, and family bloodlines.  Same old, same old.  And any pretense of the American Revolution being merely about the struggle of commoners against an outrageous aristocracy is flawed by a lack of not being the whole truth.  In fact, the American revolution was about an American aristocracy using commoners for cannon fodder in a common goal to supplant the English aristocracy and replace them with a home-grown version.  Some of the American aristocrats may have been doing what they thought best for the commoner, but these were rare individuals.  

There has since arisen an equally ludicrous concept that the aristocracies of old no longer have any real power.  In reality, aristocracies exist today which are in fact the powers that be -- even when for various and sundry diplomatic and deceptive reasons they may choose to not be addressed as lords, ladies, knights, earls, and esquires.  They may be positively demure in exhibiting themselves on the street or calling attention to themselves in any way.  

Dirk Wittenborn, in his delightful and entertaining novel, Fierce People [1], has one of his characters say, “The brilliance of the American aristocracy is they’ve convinced the world they don’t exist...  It’s safer that way.  Unlike us [the old European aristocracy], they’re invisible targets...”  Furthermore, “It’s very clever -- you teach them in America anyone can become rich, so that when they hate the rich, they hate themselves.  It paralyzes them.  All they can do is eat.”  

Wittenborn’s book is as Candace Bushnell has noted, “A riveting page-turner that offers a haunting and fascinating glimpse into the lives of the super-rich.”  In effect, the characters in the book are the American aristocracy, and also equivalent to the Fierce People -- more cutthroat than anything in any ghetto, slum, or grimy downtown street.  Think of Bill Gates with premenstrual syndrome and a government inspired migraine.  

The fascinating possibility is that Wittenborn was allegedly raised in a community similar to the one he describes in his fictional story.  In effect, the story is realistic to the core, and there is, according to Wittenborn and others, an American aristocracy which does in fact control all significant wealth and power in the country, regularly pass this wealth and power on to its progeny (including those who constitute the demented results of years of in-breeding), and in general do whatever they damn well please -- any and all laws, rules, regulations, and whatever notwithstanding.  They are the Lords of the Flies, and rules applicable to the commoners need never apply.  

These are the people whose children are raised in very private, exclusive schools, where their Education is about assuming their rightful places at the apexes of power.  These are the children who get to meet the astronauts up close and personal, who can receive an abortion by the best trained doctors in the world (regardless of the parents’ public stand on the issue or relevant State or local laws), who can avoid the draft with the dismissal wave of their hand, who will go to the best colleges and universities, and who ultimately can become most anything they want (barring the desires of their equally aristocratic peers) -- including becoming President of the United States.  

[As interesting aside is that President Bush (aka Shrub) recently had his administration argue in a court of law against any form of quota systems in college admissions.  The college, in question, was attempting to allow minorities (just by virtue of being a member of a minority) an extra 20 extra points out of a maximum of 150 -- as a means of giving them a headstart in the admissions lottery.  But when Shrub went to Yale, the admissions program was equivalent to giving him (as a son of President, CIA Director, etceteras) an extra 250 points out of, say, a total of 150.  Basically, Shrub got into college on a quota system -- his minority being his stereos in the aristocracy.  Irony is a wonderful thing.]  

Meanwhile, the American Aristocracy has joined the old aristocracies in being the leaders of any and all generations.  It is perhaps to their credit (or to their practicality) that those born of lesser parents can sometimes be reluctantly admitted to the aristocratic club.  But such admissions are generally to the advantage of the club’s elder guard, who perceive a use or value in so and so enterprising (and likely manageable) fellow’s activities, and in no way need be considered to be a gesture of genuine Philanthropy.  

Fortune Magazine in 2002 had an interesting article on the aspect of the American and other aristocracies, whose premier members have finally caught on to the wisdom of Wittenborn’s character.  In effect, what was once considered a perk for CEOs (Chief Executive Officers of major corporations -- those who likely attained their position by family connection and wealth), to flaunt their success with new Trophy World Corporate Headquarters buildings, has now gone slightly out of fashion.  Such arrogance has proven to be a bit of an Achilles heel.  

How Trophies Lost Their Allure

These days, brand-name buildings are out and anonymity is in.

FORTUNE

Monday, October 28, 2002

By Devin Leonard

CEOs used to have an important rite of passage: When a company reached a certain level of grandeur, the chief executive hired a major architect to design a new headquarters, a trophy building symbolizing the company’s financial might and corporate style.  The skyline of every major American city is adorned with these wonders.  Chicago has the Sears Tower.  San Francisco boasts the Transamerica Pyramid.  New York City has monuments erected by Woolworth, Citicorp, Seagram, and Chrysler, to name just a few.  

Now corporate America’s love affair with the trophy building is waning.  Obviously there’s a concern that after 9-11-2001, buildings calling attention to themselves may be terrorist targets.  [And yet the City of New York is planning an even bigger target!]  Earlier this year DEGW, a consulting and design firm, surveyed real estate executives at large U.S. companies and found 41% were less interested in occupying high-profile buildings after Sept. 11.  Nearly a fifth said they would be happier in “anonymous” buildings.  Morgan Stanley, for example, passed on plans to move into a posh midtown tower, instead relocating hundreds of employees to Jersey City, where the tony firm is just another tenant in a nondescript building.  

It would be a mistake, however, to blame Sept. 11 entirely for the decline of trophy buildings.  Matthew Cullen, head of real estate for GM and chairman of CoreNet Global, an association of top real estate executives, says companies began forsaking trophy buildings nearly a decade ago when technological advances like the Inter Net and cell phones allowed employees to work anywhere, lessening the need for a fancy tower.  

Sandy Apgar, a director at the Boston Consulting Group who advises corporations on real estate, sees the same trend.  He counsels clients to follow the lead of AT&T, which cut costs and increased productivity in the early ‘90s when it left its posh, Philip Johnson-designed Manhattan headquarters, moved its executive offices to the Jersey suburbs, and encouraged employees to telecommute.  Sept. 11, says Apgar, has only accelerated things. Though a handful of companies like Ernst & Young and Reuters have recently moved into trophy-worthy digs, “the age of the corporate-icon building is passing,” he says.  “One of the great challenges facing the real estate industry is how to rethink and reuse the traditional corporate headquarters building for other purposes.  I know some people who are thinking, very quietly to be sure, about converting buildings in New York and elsewhere into condos.” Some companies--in particular, Random House and AOL Time Warner, parent of FORTUNE's publisher--are relinquishing the top floors of their under-construction Manhattan trophy buildings so that they can be sold as luxury condominiums rather than set aside for executive offices.  That tells you how much things have changed.  

So is this the end of a great corporate tradition?  Probably not.  Trophy buildings go up in boom times, not in downturns.  Merrill Lynch recently noted that there was currently a “complete absence of demand” for office space and expected paralyzing market conditions to last at least though 2003.  However, once the economy picks up, that sentiment may change.  For all their downsides, trophy buildings offer CEOs a form of immortality.  Few of the cars built by Walter Chrysler in the ‘20s survive, but the art deco spire he commissioned still looms majestically over Manhattan.  You’ll never make history for moving your employees into a nondescript suburban office building.  

The fact that the upcoming American Aristocracy may be less obvious in their corporate digs is not necessarily cause for celebration.  A covert conspiracy is often worse than an overt action -- although increasingly, there is no apparent attempt to conceal anything.   

Other than perhaps an aristocratic contempt for commoners.  As The Little King once said, when informed that the peasants were revolting, “They always have been.”  

Aristocracy:

[Gr., =rule by the best], in political science, government by a social elite. In the West the political concept of aristocracy derives from Plato's formulation in the Republic. The criteria on which aristocracy is based may vary greatly from society to society. Historically, aristocracies have usually rested on landed property, have invoked heredity, and, despite frequent conflicts with the throne, have flourished chiefly within the framework of monarchy. Aristocracy may be based on wealth as well as land, as in ancient Carthage and medieval Venice, or may be a theocracy like the Brahman caste in India. Other criteria can be age, race, military prowess, or cultural attainment. The best example of a modern landowning aristocracy that conducted government was in England from 1688 to 1832. A resurgence by the French aristocracy in the 18th cent. was ended by the French Revolution, which abolished most of the privileges on which it was based. Inflation, which cut into the fixed income of the aristocracy, the loss of the traditional military role of the aristocracy, and the rise of industry and decline in the importance of landed property have all worked against the aristocracy. Today the political power of traditional western aristocracy has all but disappeared. See John H. Kautsky, The Politics of Aristocratic Empires (1982).

Aristocracy:

In the Medieval period, everyone had their place. And nowhere was this more rigidly applied than in the nobility. This group, comprising only few percent of the population (depending on region) was at the top of everything, socially, economically, politically, and militarily. Within the nobility there were numerous ranks . The names varied from region to region, but by more or less common agreement, there was a definite pecking order for each rank.

The nobles became nobles as a result of the German invasions of Roman territory during the 4th and 5th centuries. Both the Germans and the Romans had a nobility, but neither was identical to what would develop duing the Medieval period. Most previous nobilities were composed of people who were simply wealthier, and politically better connected, than the commoners. Fancy titles and a little ceremony reinforced the higher status. Medieval nobles were different. The differences had to do with two factors; manors and the method developed for paying the troops.

The Ruling Class (titled and otherwise):

About three percent of the population comprised the ruling class. The ruling class were not all nobles, but rather the educated and wealthy class of families that ruled Europe. The lower ranks of this ruling class ("gentlemen" and "esquires" in England) were not nobles, but were the people with a lot of money who could, and often did, work their way up into the titled aristocracy. These "untitled" aristocrats were often wealthier than the titled nobles. A titled aristocrat tended to take the nobility angle too seriously, to the detriment of taking care of the business of remaining a noble.

A title, by itself, meant nothing. What was really important was land, and control over sufficient population to work the land and render rents and fees to the noble (or non-noble) owner. Actually, many nobles did not "own" the land they lorded it over, but held it as a vassal of their king (or some other higher ranking noble). In return for virtual ownership, the vassal had to give his overlord an annual payment of money, goods or service. The amount varied considerably. In some cases it was a token payment, in other instances the amount was so high that a few bad crop years could render the landlord unable to extract enough profit from the property to keep up the payments. However, this was changing during the Medieval period, as more laws were passed and feudal power was continually curbed. Kings gradually relinquished their claim to control of the land in return for some thing kings never had enough of (besides power,) namely, money. Cities could purchase degrees of self-government in return for large, one time, payments to the crown. Nobles, and commoners, could purchase outright ownership of more land for cash.

While these deals may have seemed one sided, selling off long term rental income for lump sum payments, the political realities were that the feudal lords were buying greater loyalty from their former tenants. Otherwise, as many reluctant nobles discovered, their rambunctious and ever more prosperour subjects were likely to rebel .

The principal function of the feudal system was for the nobles to provide military protection and government for their subjects. But increasingly, tenant farmers were willing to go off and shop for better terms. After the Bubonic Plague, when there was a tremendous labor shortage, the farmers were in a very powerful position. The principal means for keeping farmers on a nobles land was to allow the peasants to purchase the land (which the wealthier peasants could do) or to ease up on rental rates and feudal obligations (free labor) for the less affluent peasants. In effect, the nobility recognized that times were changing and they could either lose their power and property through revolution, or sell it to their subjects a piece at a time. The English nobles were the ones who most enthusiastically adopted this policy, and this is one reason why the English aristocracy still exists. Across the Channel, the nobles were less eager to sell off their ancient rights. It was this obstinacy that caused the French Revolution in the 18th century, and weakened the other European aristocracies in the 19th and 20th centuries. The American Revolution, of course, made a point of not allowing any aristocracy whatsoever.

A small, but very important, portion of the commoner aristocrats were the large merchants and bankers. While nobles and senior clergy often got involved in lending money, it was the commoners who did most of it. These pools of money were essential for economic growth. All manner of capital improvements, from ship building to industrial expansion, required a large amount of cash to get started. The nobles tended to spend their capital on building splendid homes and fortifications. The church pured much money into cathedrals and abbeys. But vital items like iron works, cloth factories and merchant ship fleets were largely built by entrepenurial commoners. These items produced more wealth, where castles and cathedrals did not. Eventually, this mass of commoner wealth turned into political power and this was beginning to happen even during the Medieval period.

Landlords and Tenants:

At it's peak, the feudal system placed nearly all the people working the land under the control of one feudall landlord or another. Many of these tenants labored under a legal status known to us as "serfdom ." A serf was not a slave, but lived under conditions that were close to it. A serf could not leave the land without the landlords permission, nor could he marry off his daughters unless the lord allowed it. Perhaps worst of all, serfs could not petition the courts for relief from abuse they might receive from their lord. Serfs had to give a large chunk of their crop to the overlord, contribute free labor and pay fees for a long list of items.

Farmers had originally accepted the burdens of serfdom more or less voluntarily in return for the armed nobles providing protection and rule of law. Such arrangements were already practiced in Romanized lands . To the 9th or 10th century peasant beset by brigands and general anarchy, serfdom seemed like a pretty good deal. But over the centuries, peace and order became a permanent part of the landscape. The nobility lived it up, but eventually ran short of money. This was particularly true during the Crusades of the 11th and 12th centuries. It was expensive to equip oneself for a journey to the Middle East to liberate the Holy Lands. Yet it was very fashionable to go, and one had to go in style. Some nobles borrowed money, others found a source of cash closer at home. Serfs were allowed to buy their way out of some, or all, aspects of serfdom. While serfs had been exploited, they were not picked clean. A serf could make a profit in his work and build up a nest egg. Either individually, or as a group (often entire villages), the serfs bought their way out of serfdom. By the 14th century, only about 25 percent of the farmers were serfs to any degree.

Allowing the serfs to buy their freedom turned out to be a pretty good deal for the nobility. The farmers still worked the land controlled (if not, increasingly, owned) land, but did so even more efficiently. The overlord still collected rents, taxes and fees, and in the 12th and 13th century the nobility became more diligent in managing their estates. While all this increased aristocrats income, the nobles were even more enthusiastic in finding new ways to spend their money. One was really compelled to keep up appearances. The merchants were quick to supply whatever the free spending nobles might want, even if they could not afford it, or even need it.

Noble wives learned the pleasures of shopping, especially when eager merchants were willing to bring their travelling botiques right to your castle. But many aristocrats now had a second home in a city. Paris and London were favorites, as this allowed the ambitious noble to hang out at the kings court and perhaps gain a favor or two from His Highness. The king was the largest landowner in the kingdom and controlled many jobs. There were opportunities found at the kings court that were available no where else. The cities were full of shopping opportunities, as well as many chances to lose the family fortune in some high stakes gambling. Games of chance were always popular and the biggest games were found in the larger towns and cities. As a result of all this spending, the nobles still needed more money. So they sold more privilages and land to their tenants. Bit by bit there grew up in the countryside a class of well off, land owning, commoners. These people worked hard, spent frugally and controlled their bad habits.

The Heir Angle:

Another problem with aristocracy was that it was hereditary. The feudal contract stipulated that a family was holding the land from the king. If the family died out, the land returned (escheated) to the king. It wasn't enough to produce heirs, you had to try and produce able ones who could survive in the rough and tumble of Medieval politics. While some families do produce talented individuals over many generations (but, then, so do some race horses), there are also a fair number of clunkers oozing out of the gene pool. One inept heir can ruin the productive work of many previous generations. While it's human nature to want to keep it in the family, and do the best one can for ones children, these efforts often produce unfortunate results. To make matters worse, noble families tended to have few children. One reason was that wives were selected with an eye to forming (or strengthening) political alliances, not for the womans ability (or willingness) to bear children. These arranged marriages often created a couple that did not get along at all. It was not uncommon for the husband to refuse to sleep with his wife (there were plenty of other women available for that) and for the wife to actively avoid getting pregnant no matter what shape the marital relations were in. Most noble families died out within a century or two after getting established. The women were anxious to avoid the very real dangers of Medieval childbirth, and the men often lived for the present, ignoring the future need for an heir.

In the Kings Service:

Although aristocrats were always eager to keep the nobility an exclusive club, the kings saw their power to create new aristocrats as a highly effective tool for maintaining the loyalty of his nobles, and putting more able commoners into positions of power. The British monarchy still gives out noble titles in this way, and few commoners (no matter what their personal attitude towards the monarchy) so honored come away unappreciative. Kings were, after all, little more than hugely successful nobles. The current monarchy of Britain is descended from a fellow who began as the duke of Normandy, and several generations before that his ancestors were simply adventure, and loot, seeking marauders from Norway. The kings of France in the Medieval period started out in the tenth century as just another German speaking noble, (one Hugh Capet) but one that was nimble enough to grab the crown when the French king died heirless.

As in any organization, there can be only one man at the top. While it was difficult to depose a king, and grab the crown yourself, it was possible for a mere noble to become a great noble, a magnate. There were two ways to do this, by taking from the king or your fellow nobles, or by becoming an invaluable servant of your king. Fighting other nobles, and especially the king, was usually a losing proposition. But a grateful monarch would usually reward his faithful, and able, nobles with more land and titles. There was plenty of work to do, for many nobles took the other road, making war or scheming to take from the king and other nobles. As powerful as the king was, he could never, in the Medieval period, do it himself. He needed allies, to deal with those who would not be allies.

The Clerical Aristocracy //The Decline of Aristocracy:

The titled arsitocracy was actually shrinking as the Medieval period turned into the Renaissance during the 15th century. There had been several centuries of relative peace and the expense and discomfort of training to become a knight was seen as less and less attractive. While the kings made noises about how all landowners of a certain size should be knights, the kings were just as happy to take money instead of military service from these landlords. Kings were getting used to hiring mercenary troops, instead of the hodge podge of troops he would get if he called all his vassals to render their military obligation. Besides. this obligation was only for a month or so per year and a campaign might go on for many years. Mercenaries will stay with you as long as you pay them regularly. Another benefit of mercenaries was that, once the military function of the nobility was gone, the nobles were defenseless against the power of a growing central government. The kings still saw the nobility as their allies against all those commoners and, bit by bit, the nobility were turned into a titled civil service for the royal government. By the 17th century, this trend was complete. The nobles were the creatures of the king, and were unable to reserse the process. In the 14th century, however, the trend was just getting into high gear. The nobles still knew how to use weapons, and had the wherewithall to raise their own armies. But this was changing, and a lot of the change occurred during the Hundred Years War.

ARISTOCRACY: Like many terms used to describe government structures, Aristocracy is impossible to define. Founded on the Greek word, aristos , which means "best," at its heart aristocracy means "rule by the best." Its theoretical foundation begins with the political works of Plato and Aristotle, the two central figures in Greek and European philosophy. Both felt that Greek democrac> had been a disaster; their fundamental problem with democracy was that it put government in the hands of people who were the least capable of making sound decisions. For Plato, the general run of humanity was driven by its selfish passions and desires; this was a poor foundation for deliberate, considered, and selfless decision-making. While Plato and Aristotle were familiar with an infinite variety of possible governments, they believed that government should be in the hands of the most capable members of society. Above all, people in government should be moral and selfless; they should be highly intelligent and educated, as well as brave and temperate. This was "rule by the best."

This is not, however, what we think of when we use the term aristocracy. In early modern Europe and modern Europe, the aristocracy consisted of the nobility or ruling classes of society. Membership in the aristocracy was not through achievement, intelligence, or moral growth, but solely hereditary (sometimes it was given out). How did the Greek idea of "rule by the best" turn into something more closely resembling a hereditary oligarchy or just simply an upper class?

The answer can be found in part in theories of the monarchy in the Middle Ages. In order to legitimate ta hereditary monarchy, the medieval Europeans theorized that the virtues which made a monarch suitable for the job were hereditary . This led to a segregation of virtues: the monarch and his noble bureaucrats were by nature and heredity more moral and civilized than the rest of the population. They were, then, the "best" morally and intellectually. In this way, the notion of "aristocracy," as "rule of the best," eventually translated into a concept of a hereditary aristocracy. So ingrained is this notion in the European world view, that we still assume a hereditary superiority in the upper classes.

The founders of American democracy turned back to the original, philosophical definition of aristocracy when they built American government. Very conscious of Plato's and Aristotle's criticisms of democracy, the founders of American government wanted to avoid putting the government into the hands of the worst members of society. They also, however, wanted to avoid the dangers of a hereditary aristocracy, for European history proven amply that the hereditary aristocracy is many things but it rarely consists of the "best" members of society either in moral or intellectual terms (look at the royal family in England, for instance). So the framers of American government created representative democracy, in which the people collectively decide who the "best" people are to run the government. In this way, a democracy (a limited democracy) is allowed to co-exist seamlessly with a government that is primarily ruled by the most qualified people morally and intellecturally (well, sometimes). Richard Hooker