Actually, I think your concept of provincialism is not crass enough.
I suspect that any “concern” the US government has for the lives of non-Americans is almost entirely instrumental. The Army doesn’t care about minimizing enemy civilian casualties as an end in itself—it cares about those casualties only to the extent that they influence popular and international support for the war effort. Similarly, the government cares about foreign aid mostly in order to further its political objectives. (For instance, compare the list of top US foreign aid recipients with the list of countries by PPP GDP per capita.)
If you were to calculate politicians’ “provincialism ratio” based on their past actions, my guess is that you would come up with wildly inconsistent results. That’s because it’s not the number of casualties that matters, it’s how the casualties would be perceived.
Thanks, Ben. I agree that a nation has instrumental motives that are different in kind from those an individual might have, and those motives might create the misimpression that the nation cares about foreign lives more than it actually does. Disentangling these motives would be important so we’re sure to begin with an accurate baseline ratio.
I disagree that nations’ concerns are entirely (noting that you say “almost entirely”) instrumental, precisely because—in theory—a democratically elected government represents the electorate, and we, the electorate, are not indifferent to foreign lives. A president who had no qualms eradicating an entire nation when it is in America’s strategic interests would not (I hope) be reelected.
I also agree that America does not have a consistent provincialism ratio, for many reasons. One reason is that where casualties won’t come to light, the government is less likely to make sacrifices to prevent them. That, however, is simply a failure of the democratic process. In a perfect world, the entire electorate would be aware of every decision its representatives made, and their consequences. When our government touts its military accomplishments but hides those accomplishments’ true costs—knowing that their constituencies would not be okay with those costs—they’re stepping outside their proper role as our representatives.
Actually, I think your concept of provincialism is not crass enough.
I suspect that any “concern” the US government has for the lives of non-Americans is almost entirely instrumental. The Army doesn’t care about minimizing enemy civilian casualties as an end in itself—it cares about those casualties only to the extent that they influence popular and international support for the war effort. Similarly, the government cares about foreign aid mostly in order to further its political objectives. (For instance, compare the list of top US foreign aid recipients with the list of countries by PPP GDP per capita.)
If you were to calculate politicians’ “provincialism ratio” based on their past actions, my guess is that you would come up with wildly inconsistent results. That’s because it’s not the number of casualties that matters, it’s how the casualties would be perceived.
Thanks, Ben. I agree that a nation has instrumental motives that are different in kind from those an individual might have, and those motives might create the misimpression that the nation cares about foreign lives more than it actually does. Disentangling these motives would be important so we’re sure to begin with an accurate baseline ratio.
I disagree that nations’ concerns are entirely (noting that you say “almost entirely”) instrumental, precisely because—in theory—a democratically elected government represents the electorate, and we, the electorate, are not indifferent to foreign lives. A president who had no qualms eradicating an entire nation when it is in America’s strategic interests would not (I hope) be reelected.
I also agree that America does not have a consistent provincialism ratio, for many reasons. One reason is that where casualties won’t come to light, the government is less likely to make sacrifices to prevent them. That, however, is simply a failure of the democratic process. In a perfect world, the entire electorate would be aware of every decision its representatives made, and their consequences. When our government touts its military accomplishments but hides those accomplishments’ true costs—knowing that their constituencies would not be okay with those costs—they’re stepping outside their proper role as our representatives.