I think they're committing the far too common sin of conflating coordination systems without objective physical reality or ontological primacy with lies. In their defense, I'll note that even the writers of the Constitution may have been doing the same thing but in reverse: using the royal "We" to refer to some nebulous conglomeration of residents on American territory instead of the more concrete and prosaic truth, that it was a far smaller group of men with varying degrees of endorsement from their nominal constituencies, in the midst of a civil war.
The American Constitution is a "lie" in the same way that paper or digital money is a "lie". There is no objective value of a string of digits in your bank's servers. But objective value (if that's a thing) is often less important than the far more subjective but just-as-real ability to coordinate with other people. Money serves as a hard-to-counterfeit proof of your control over assets, with the weight of the State backing you up in extremis. Similarly, the Constitution has the weight of centuries and consensus behind it (and, nominally, an army).
It creates a bright line in the sand: certain actions that are "unconstitutional" are recognized by everyone as being unacceptable and necessary to contest with legal or physical force. Even better? The Consistution is common knowledge, and knowledge of common knowledge. If someone breaches it, then, at least in theory, everyone knows they've done something bad, and the person breaching it won't even have plausible deniability about the matter.
Of course, it's hardly that simple in practice, but the courts and executive exist to interpret and modify the document and keep it relevant, while acknowledging that until due process was used to modify it (an Amendment), it remains paramount. There might be legal kerfuffles about state vs federal rights, but only the maximally partisan would look at a (hypothetical example) of a ruling president putting on a crown and abolishing elections as Constitutional.
In other words, the Constitution is a Schelling point, a bright line in the sand or a river that separates (many) bad actions from the good. It's not perfect, but it works well enough in practice. Other countries, such as the UK, have an "unwritten" Constitution, a system of both legibible/verbal and implicit tradition that is held as a check to the vagaries of politics or law.
Thanks. I think I agree with everything you said. But do you agree or disagree with the Psmiths' conclusion that "you can’t say that; you can’t point it out; the trick doesn’t work if you tell the marks it’s happening"?
Some equilibria are far more stable than others. You can go up to a group of people and argue that money is "fake" or a "social construct", and depending on their sophistication, they may or may not be able to argue back, but they're also very unlikely to just give you their dollars. Similarly, the US Constitution is well entrenched, though hardly impossible to overturn. I recall that the majority of lawmakers have legal backgrounds, and thus would not be strangers to such arguments.
I gather that you disagree with the Psmiths' conclusion.
Can you think of any examples of similar shared fictions that are much more unstable?
It can be dangerous at the symbolic level, in that political legitimacy needs to pretend to rest on something even if it is in practice circular. This is an is-ought gap problem: the government is legitimate because you obey the government without resistance (descriptive), and you obey the government without resistance because it is legitimate (normative). This second part is, yes, dependent on what one thinks about what makes the government legitimate. Embracing the circularity is unstable. A totalitarian state and a democracy would both be legitimate as long as people don't protest. But what if people do protest? You need an idea that will pull citizens to obey the government by default, even if it goes against their immediate self-interest, even if many others disagree.
In the US, the constitution is part of this stabilizing idea. It's not the only part, but it got a sacred character that goes far beyond what constitutions in other places get. This sacralization is in many way unrelated to the practical content of the document as a set of basic rules for a government. Sure, the 1st, 4th, 5th amendments are good ideas, the 3rd is downright obsolete, and the 2nd is contentious. But because the rules are all we got, they become a focal point for coordination, and pointing out that the words on the page might be confused, or obsolete, or unrelated to how we employ them today, is considered gauche.
Is it dangerous to point out? Not more nor less than other forms of critical theory. Is widespread knowledge of Foucault dangerous for the legitimacy of psychiatry, of Judith Butler for gendered norms? Kinda, but those institutions are functionally robust in other ways. The Psmiths are riding the coattails of the entirety of sociology and political science here. I would flip the causal arrow: in most cases, dissatisfaction with existing institutions leverages critical theory to attack them. But the failure of existing institutions causes the unrest, not critical theory itself.
in most cases, dissatisfaction with existing institutions leverages critical theory to attack them. But the failure of existing institutions causes the unrest, not critical theory itself.
You make a good and interesting point here. On the other hand, "dissatisfaction" is not a binary thing; people can be more or less frustrated about something. Some memes can be helpful to help mildly frustrated people create mayhem that would otherwise only be created by the extremely frustrated ones. And because nothing is perfect, there will always be some mildly frustrated people.
So it's a combination of how much things really suck, and how much people believe that if something frustrates you, you should burn everything down, that determines how many things get burned down.
Can you please give some more concrete examples (historical or hypothetical) of what you have in mind here?
The historically most famous example was "The proletarians have nothing to lose but their chains". (It turned out that they actually had something to lose, such as their lives, and the lives of their families.)
Or, if you ask a random adolescent about how they would fix some frustrating aspect of the world, the answer would usually make things much worse, if you think about it for five minutes. "Kill the outgroup" is quite popular, or "just tell them to do X and kill/imprison anyone who resists".
There is also a difference between parents expressing frustration about vaccination, like maybe it happens to early or too frequently, but their reactions will be different if they have e.g. "vaccines cause autism" as a rallying point.
Basically, a meme can offer a "cure" that is worse than the thing you were originally frustrated about, but it sounds attractive because the frustration happens here and now, and the concerns about the "cure" seem too hypothetical.
To a great extent, the underlying "noble lie" is that there is any such thing as objective moral truth. There is no measurement of "should", it's just about what equilibria seem to work, which is based on most people accepting it without questioning too hard.
I agree to an extent. I for one was very distressed for a while when I started to believe that moral realism is false.
However, this is not exactly a secret matter. Moral realism and anti-realism have been discussed openly for a while. It may have caused people to act less morally, but I am not sure. That is difficult to measure.
For me, I do not think it made a huge difference on how I behaved. I struggled with cognitive dissonance, and still do, but my conscientious urges remained in place.
I recently read this article (linked by David Chapman): JOINT REVIEW: Philosophy Between the Lines, by Arthur M. Melzer (by Jane Psmith and John Psmith).
The article talks about esoteric writing, i.e., where writers will sometimes not state their entire message explicitly but leave some important messages only implied, in the hope that the "wise" reader will be able to "read between the lines" and understand the hidden message.
The article argues that this is sometimes necessary, either to protect the writer from persecution or to protect the public from information hazards (basilisks?).
The article gives the below example of an alleged information hazard. But I do not follow their reasoning. I do not understand how this information is hazardous.
I do not understand what the Psmiths are saying here. Why can't you say that? If a lot of thinkers started openly discussing the fact that there is no binding magic in constitutions, what would happen?
Can anyone help me understand what the authors probably have in mind?