Machiavelli redux – I look back on me looking back on The Prince

Preface

I recently bought a new laptop and, as I transferred my old stuff to my new laptop, I found this unfinished blog post. I’m pretty sure I initially wrote this some time in early 2006 (possibly late 2005). I wish I had found this before the 2008 election as it would’ve been fun to revisit in light of the major issues that drove the election. Anyway, I want to get this posted while I’m thinking about it. I’ve copied it here unedited, but I’ve added an afterward at the end (it was unfinished and I wanted to wrap it up instead of leaving it so open-ended).

Me on Machiavelli on welfare and government redistribution of wealth

I’m just about to finish up Machiavelli’s The Prince. Last night, I went to dinner at my favorite local cafe and my server asked if I was reading it “for fun”, to which I replied, “I wouldn’t say it’s ‘fun’, but I’m between books right now and I had this laying around, so I figured I’d give it a shot.” Even in his introduction, the translator says that he’s not sure we can really “learn” much from Machiavelli, but that his writing is insightful, at least as far as the mysterious Machiavelli is concerned.

As I began reading, I couldn’t help but agree with the translator–I didn’t see myself learning a whole lot from this experience. That was true until about half way through the book when I stumbled upon his chapter on “Generosity and Parsimony”. There, I found what I thought was some interesting insight into today’s politics in America.

A brief summary of a tiny part of The Prince

Before I go any further, I should probably give a brief summary of The Prince. I almost wrote something like, “For those who haven’t read and have no desire to read The Prince…”, but that’s just fluff. Really, I’m summarizing for myself so I don’t have to ever read it again. Anyway, a “prince” is basically a “ruler” and Machiavelli talks about how princes come to power, how they maintain their power and some general rules to live by for princes as they try to maintain their principalities. So, his chapter on “Generosity and Parsimony” is another section designed to point out traits of an effective ruler.

Machiavelli essentially says that, although it may be immediately beneficial, giving lots of stuff to people to win their favor is ultimately a trap that will bury a leader. I think he’s talking about bribery, but he’s also talking generally about giving gifts and freebies to the populous at large. He contends that there are several problems with giving things to people to gain their favor. The first is that all the things given have to be taken from somewhere else: he’ll either have to give of his own possessions, which will eventually run out, or he’ll have to take from others and give of their possessions which will eventually make those “others” his enemies and will also eventually run out.

Once the giving stops, the populous, having been spoiled by his generosity thus far, would be discontented and he would lose favor with them. A couple clichés come to mind: “Give them an inch and they’ll take a mile” and “Ignorance is bliss”. If you give stuff to people, especially if they haven’t earned it, and you stop giving them that stuff, they’ll become very restless; if you never give them more than they need, they’ll never know what it’s like to have excess.

Back to my point

But I said this has to do with today’s politics, didn’t I? Here’s how: Socialism, welfare, unemployment and entitlement are all hot-button issues today. Right now, the two opposing schools of thought are: 1) We recognize that people have needs and we believe the best way to satisfy those needs is to give them opportunities to work, earn a paycheck and fend for themselves and 2) We recognize that people have needs and we think that those whose needs are fulfilled should help out those whose needs are not fulfilled. In a nutshell, it’s “bolster the economy and create jobs” versus “tax the ‘haves’ and give to the ‘have-nots'”.

Although he wasn’t talking directly about welfare, I think Machiavelli’s point is valid: giving generously to the “have-nots” by taxing the “haves” seems wonderful until the “haves” get sick of it and demand that the “have-nots” work for their wages. Of course, I don’t believe that people should starve because they can’t find a job, and I believe America is a country that shouldn’t let that happen. People will fall on hard times and our country is wealthy enough to help those people out until they can get back on their feet. But they’ll never get back on their feet if they don’t have any incentive to stand up.

A sidebar on Giuliani’s Leadership

A few months ago, I read Rudy Giuliani’s Leadership and I was very impressed with some of his political philosophies and tactics. Most impressive, though, were his results. He only briefly discusses his take on welfare, but I think it was a great philosophy: When people are without jobs, other citizens should be helping them survive. But, part of helping them “survive” is helping them learn a trade, find a job and get off of welfare. Giuliani’s system provided seminars, vocation training, job hunting and other resources to those on welfare and, as a result, he dramatically reduced unemployment. I think the most substantial tenant of his welfare philosophy was this: If you’re on welfare, we’re going to provide you with all the resources we can to help you find a job, but you only have a certain amount of time to draw benefits and then we’re cutting you off. His philosophy was to “teach a man to fish”.

Back to my point again (and some butchery of my own interpretation of Giuliani’s philosophy)

I suppose my real problem with an open-ended welfare system (and the same goes for strict socialism) is that the system is not designed to actually help anyone get off of welfare. Instead, the system is designed to endear those who are on welfare to the providers, and ultimately to provide votes for the providers. I think it’s easiest to explain this by going back to the adage I mentioned earlier. The adage goes something like this: “Cook a man a fish and he’ll eat for a day. Teach a man to fish and he’ll eat for a lifetime.” To take this a step further, say there were two businesses, each related to the fishing industry, but in different ways. The first business sells fishing gear–poles, lures, line, etc.–while the second is a fish restaurant. The first business would be most interested in increasing the number of fishermen in its area. This business understands that more people fishing means better sales for poles, line, lures and such. The other business would be interested in keeping people hungry for fish and would prefer that people spend their time at the restaurant buying and eating fish because the more people that eat fish, the more revenue they’ll get. More importantly, the latter would realize that it’s bad for people to learn to fish. If people are catching their own fish, they don’t need a restaurant to cook and sell them fish for a significant mark-up.

In both examples, the analogy would extend into the political world as “revenue” equals “votes”. Giuliani’s philosophy was to teach people to fish, but also to give them a couple vouchers to the fish restaurant so they can eat in the mean time. The opposing philosophy would be to have the general population provide unlimited vouchers to those in need so the needy can eat and aren’t motivated to learn to fish on their own (I wouldn’t learn to fish if I knew I’d get three square meals a day at no charge to me).

Afterward (and a bait-n-switch from welfare to populism)

As I read back over this post, I feel that maybe I was talking more about populism than social programs. I was a little off on some of my terminology (I guess I know what I meant by “open-ended welfare”, though it seems like I could’ve worded that more eloquently), but I think was mostly on point. The 2008 election was largely driven by populism: Obama ran on a fundamentally populist platform, focusing on “change”, “hope” and other feel-good words for the masses while remaining fairly opaque about himself, his own ambitions and his specific plans; he also focused on taxing the rich and redistributing wealth, creating tons of social programs and spending many billions of dollars while offering little by way of explanation as to whom would fund these programs. It could be many years before we know how many of his promises he’s able to keep, or the cost of trying to keep those promises.

But politics and elections are based on promises (empty and otherwise), so what differentiates normal politics from populism? To me, the differentiator is not so much the target demographic, class or audience, but the advisability and feasibility of the ideology being preached. Are we making these promises because they’re best for the country, and ultimately for “the people”? Or are we making promises because they’re the key to maximizing votes for this particular election? Are we bailing out the Big Three because that’s what’s best for the industry and the country? Or are we bailing them out because we need to save some jobs in the short-term, and a lot of those jobs are union leaders and lobbyists in DC?

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My 2006 Final Four experience: Making a run

For the first time since 2000, we coasted through the opening weekend of the NCAA Tournament. We had home court advantage in Jacksonville and neither South Alabama nor UW-Milwaukee gave us much of a game. Regardless of how we did from the Sweet 16 on out, I think Gator Nation collectively breathed a huge sigh of relief. We finally made it out of the first weekend and we would get to see at least one decent basketball game during the tournament.

Through that next week, I was pretty nervous about the upcoming Georgetown game. Everyone knew they were a good team and they would match up well against the Gators. Their guards were solid, their front-court was big and agile, and their offense was exactly the kind of offense that could take us out of our game plan. The Princeton style offense that Georgetown runs uses the same ideas that Izzo had used to defeat us in years past–slow the game down, take your time on every possession and don’t let the Gators get out and run.

The day of our Sweet 16 game, I recruited a friend of mine, gave him a Gators hat and aggravated him for four straight hours by continuously babbling about great the Gators are. “Man, we’re really fun to watch. I’m telling you, we can really move the ball!” Gator basketball just isn’t the same without other Gators cheering around me. My buddy isn’t a Gator, but I made him an honorary Gator for the evening and he was a good sport about it all. The game went right down to the wire and we finally sealed it when Corey Brewer made a crazy circus shot while falling to the floor as he was fouled. I immediately knew that, should we go on to the Final Four, this would be the requisite game-saving shot that each team needs to go the distance.

That night, we also watched the Villanova game. Seeing them play made me very nervous. This was the team who’d bounced us in 2005 and they were very physical, athletic and their guards could flat shoot. I wondered whether our team could hang with them. They basically just bullied Boston College for 40 minutes and I knew they’d try the same thing against us. The referees were letting them play, and I knew that, historically, we didn’t do well against very physical teams. The reason that Kentucky beat us so many times from 2000 to 2004 was that they just played harder than we did, pushed us around and got into our heads. Villanova would try to do the same thing.

That Sunday, I watched the game from my couch. This time, I couldn’t recruit any other Gators–honorary or otherwise–to join in. This was the most important Gator basketball game in almost six years and I was watching it in an empty living room; it was depressing and exhilarating at the same time. I tried not to get my hopes up, but I’d already started looking at plane tickets to Florida in case we won. It didn’t take me long to realize that we were going to run over Villanova. I almost couldn’t even believe what I was seeing: our team was right in their faces, contesting every shot, and matching their physicality stride for stride. Our guards totally shut them down from behind the arc. This game was a coaching masterpiece for Billy Donovan–all he had were mismatches all night, and yet he found a way to stop them from scoring and ran a coherent, effective offense against their swarming guards. All of a sudden, we were going to the Final Four!

The game hadn’t even ended and I was already calling my friends in Gainesville and leaving voicemails everywhere: “Hey, let me know what y’all are doing for the Final Four. If you’re going to Indy, let me know and I’ll go ahead and book a ticket. If you’re staying in Gainesville, I’ll just fly out there. Just let me know so I can book something.” There was no way Iï¿½d be watching a Florida Final Four game by myself, I just wouldnï¿½t let it happen. The next morning, they called back and we decided to rendezvous in Gainesville. I immediately booked a ticket and planned to stay in Gainesville through Monday night. At first, I was a little disappointed that we weren’t going to watch the game in Indy, but then I realized we were going back to the Final Four and I was going to watch it all right in the heart of Gator Nation. I didn’t know what it would be like watching the game in Indiana, but I knew what it was like watching the games in Gainesville back in 2000 and that was definitely where I wanted to be.

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My 2006 Final Four experience: Team Building

Next year came and went, along with our hopes of returning to the Final Four. We didn’t know it at the time, but we were seeing the beginning of a string of early exits from the NCAA Tournament. In 2001, we got whooped by Temple in the second round. In 2002, we lost a heartbreaker to Creighton, 83-82 in double overtime. In 2003, we replayed the 2000 Finals with Michigan State, only this time they bested us in the second round. In 2004, we fell to Manhattan in the first round. In 2005, we ran into Villanova in the second round.

All the while, Gator Nation was buzzing with speculation that Billy’s run to the Finals in 2000 was a fluke, that he wasn’t that great a coach. Personally, I went back and forth. From our success during the regular season (we averaged over 20 wins for all five of those years), it was obvious that he could coach. What wasn’t obvious was why our team kept fading in March. I think a lot of it had to do with our tournament draws. Creighton is always a tricky team, although we definitely should’ve beaten them. Tom Izzo is just a good coach and his team matched up well with us in 2003. In 2005, Villanova was arguably the toughest 5-seed in the tournament and their grit and athleticism neutralized our finesse. I think there were also issues with team chemistry. We always had one or two superstars, but the rest of our team often wasn’t as involved as it should’ve been. Superstars can win regular season games, but team play and defense wins championships. Defense was another big issue: we rarely had much of it. Our teams could score a lot of points, but they weren’t all that tough. Villanova was simply more physical than we were, and we couldn’t match their intensity.

Going into the 2005 season, I think we were all expecting the worst. We lost a significant portion of our offense and experience, and our team was very young. We weren’t even close to the pre-season Top 25 and I don’t think many Gators were too upset about that. We were bracing for a “rebuilding” year, and that’s what made everything else so sweet.

We started off winning the Coaches vs. Cancer tourney in New York. I watched both of our games against Wake and Syracuse, and then I e-mailed my buddies at work the next day: “We’re good.” The team chemistry was undeniable and it was obvious that these guys weren’t intimidated by anyone. Right out of the gate, we had beaten two ranked teams and we had very few tough games on our pre-conference schedule. Next thing we knew, we were 17-0 and poised to take the No. 1 spot in the polls. Almost as if it was scripted, all three remaining undefeated teams lost within hours of each other. To Gator fans, this was no surprise because we were accustomed to tanking when we topped the polls. This time, we only had to be the de facto leader before we dropped a game. All Gators everywhere simultaneously thought, “Here we go again.”

I admit I was one of the first doubters. I just didn’t want to get my hopes up. This team was young and there was no real, logical reason to expect anything great from them. Our schedule so far had been pretty easy, we hadn’t really played any big games (the Wake and Syracuse games lost their luster as the season went on), and we still had a long way to go. Many of the starters had barely played in 2004 and I began to wonder if they were going to hit “the wall” that everyone talks about. They certainly looked to be fatiguing and we weren’t winning close games as we had at the beginning of the season. The good news was, we weren’t losing by much either. We were losing, but never being blown out.

Going into the 2006 SEC Tournament, I think there was a great sense of urgency for all of us. We hadn’t been winning close games lately, we had even lost three straight, and we were in danger of getting a crummy seed in the NCAA tournament. I think Gator Nation felt a great need to defend our SEC Title from 2005. In retrospect, I think that this tournament was what ultimately led us to the Final Four. We got a great draw, so our path to the Championship game was relatively easy. We were fortunate to get a bye the first game, so our guys could rest up for the remaining games in March, however many they may be. We got another shot at two of the four teams who’d beaten us earlier in the season, and that gave us a chance to work on specific aspects of our game. We had let Arkansas’ guards have too much freedom when we first played them, and our game against them in the SEC Tournament allowed us to work on locking them down. The South Carolina game was key, in my opinion. They had beaten us twice by pounding the ball inside, and forcing us to play a grind-it-out type of game that drained the shot clock and drastically slowed the tempo. The difference was that we won this one and we learned how to beat them at their own game. I think this game gave us the blueprint that we used to beat Georgetown in the Sweet 16.

After the SEC Tournament, we only had to wait a few hours to find out that we’d been given a 3-seed in our bracket. We would also be playing the first two games in Jacksonville, assuming we made it through the first round this year. I don’t think Gator Nation really knew what to expect. On one hand, we’d had our best season ever. On the other hand, we still had a very young team with little experience and no obvious super star. What was worse, we had to wait almost a week to see our first NCAA Tournament game.

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My 2006 Final Four experience: Remembering 2000

After the Gators won the National Title a few weeks ago, I talked a lot about the team, but not much about my actual experience this time around. I’ve said many times that some of my fondest college memories were collected during March 2000, when Florida made an improbable run to the National Title game. I was nearing the end of my sophomore year and had tons of friends who, like me, were rabid Gator football fans. Billy Donovan hadn’t been at UF but a few seasons and his first couple seasons weren’t very memorable. Nobody remembered very much from the 1998-1999 season, but we all remembered losing to Gonzaga in the Sweet 16. During the 1999-2000 basketball season, I think we started to appreciate winning and we began coining terms like “Billy Ball”, which was a reference to Donovan’s up-tempo style of basketball. Admittedly, I didn’t watch many basketball games in 1999, and when March rolled around in 2000, I don’t even think I filled out a bracket. I thought it was silly and didn’t see any reason to drop money to “compete” against sports gurus and girls who chose the winner based on school colors or mascots.

I didn’t see the Butler game because it was on a Friday afternoon and I was probably too busy skipping class to even care. But I heard about the end of the game and, like many other Gators, suddenly had an interest in Gator basketball. That Sunday afternoon, I was one of several students who gathered at some friends’ apartment to watch us play Illinois in the second round. I don’t think any of us had high expectations, but we all had high hopes. When your team hangs on because of a miraculous buzzer-beater, you have no choice but to start believing, and that’s what we all did. We soundly beat Illinois and we were back in the Sweet 16 for the second straight year. We didn’t expect much because we had to play Duke next, but we knew it was no fluke that Billy D. had taken us to the Sweet 16 twice in a row. He had taken a losing basketball program and turned us into a contender. Still, our expectations were low as we geared up to face the perennial powerhouse Blue Devils.

That was a long week, but the game itself went by quickly. “We just beat DUKE!” We all said that at some point that weekend. We couldn’t believe it and we really didn’t know what to do about it. By this time, the crowd of students watching the game in my friends’ apartment was growing pretty quickly. There were several of us for the Illinois game, but we all watched comfortably on a couch, or a chair. For the Duke game, there were more bodies and less room; people were sitting on the arms of the couches, piled on the chairs, seated on the floor. By the time we played Oklahoma State, we were packed in as tight as we could be, the windows were all open and we were still sweating like pigs. We were used to that from football season, but we typically didn’t bunch like this in the Spring.

Changes had to be made for our Final Four game against North Carolina–another TV was brought in along with some couches, a makeshift bench was made on a rail between the dining and living rooms, every window and door was opened and the fans were all on full-blast to keep the air moving through the place. This was by far my biggest sporting event as a Gator and I think most of my friends felt the same. None of us were around in 1996 when we won the National Title in football, and most of our football seasons thus far had been anticlimactic because we had come to expect nothing but perfection from The Ol’ Ball Coach. SEC titles were nice, but we didn’t really get up for them like we would’ve if we hadn’t won the National Title a few years earlier. Basketball was different, though, because we didn’t expect to win. We didn’t even really think we had much of a chance, but we wanted to make sure we saw it if we pulled off an upset. After the game, we all ran out onto 34th Street and screamed, jumped, waived at cars and generally acted like idiots. It was awesome. “We beat North Carolina!” We all said it, but we could hardly believe it: we were playing for the National Title… in basketball!

The Michigan State game is kind of a blur to me. I think that’s partially because we lost, but partially because the game was pretty boring in general. Tom Izzo basically put together the perfect game plan to beat us: don’t allow the Gators to play Billy Ball. Michigan State took 30 seconds to shoot on every possession, slowed us way down in transition, played good defense and hit most of their shots. From the highest of highs comes the lowest of lows, and we felt it. This was the first time most of us had experienced a National Title game, and it was also the first time most of us had experienced losing a National Title game. There were about 70 of us there to watch, and no one said a word after the final buzzer. We just sat there, quietly wondering if we could make another run next year.