by Matt Barr

Zuzu shrugged

I didn't do any blogging in between the major holidays last week, so if this seems untimely, that's why.

What's an LWOP, I'm seldom asked. One good answer is it's someone who roots for George Bailey, not Mr. Potter. Consider the armpit hair libertarian(*) approach to It's a Wonderful Life:

The alternate-reality Pottersville in the movie would not have come to be without a market for cheap apartments, dive bars, peep shows and general debauchery. Laws against these things, whether zoning or land use regulations or criminal statutes, are unacceptable encroachments on our constitutional right to have a good time, as found in the Ninth Amendment. These activities don't hurt anybody, and therefore the law has no valid reason to proscribe or regulate them. When George and Clarence get bounced forcibly from the bizzaro Martini's, they can sue in tort. (With any luck, Pottersville has private arbitration instead of state-sanctioned dispute resolution, a/k/a a court system.)

When the crash hits and the Building and Loan is nearly forced to close, it should. The Building and Loan uses deposits to invest in building materials and labor, the fruits of which -- mortgages on homes -- will enrich its proprietors. In exchange, the Building and Loan agrees to pay interest on deposits (presumably), and to surrender deposited money on demand. George's using his own money and salesmanship to talk patrons out of withdrawing is not only a repudiation of a contract, but it leads to an inefficient market where transactions are no longer arm's length, and participants aren't rationally responding to economic forces.

Upon noticing that Mr. Gower has accidentally filled a child's prescription with poison, George is under no legitimately enforceable obligation to intervene. In fact, he's been employed to deliver prescriptions and when he refuses to do that, he should be fired. (When he's beaten instead, he should, as we say, sue in tort.)

We'll leave to one side George's saving of his brother from the sledding accident, but: The movie never tells us if Harry Bailey fought in the European or Japanese theater in World War II, although Bert, Ernie and Marty all fought in Europe, and Bedford Falls being in New York state, it's likely Harry did, too. The war in Europe, of course, unlike Japan, was an illegitmate war of aggression, and Harry's living to win the Congressional medal for his performance isn't the unadulterated good thing the movie makes it out to be.

George's staying in Bedford Falls to marry and live with Donna Reed is borne of his ignorance of the fact that he could get laid in Europe or wherever he was going, too.

Potter's offer of a contract of employment in exchange for the Building and Loan should have been accepted. George's refusal leads (we see from Clarence's visit) to hardship for himself and the continued absence of dive bars, peep shows and general debauchery in Bedford Falls, and is an irrational reaction to an economically legitimate offer.

Naturally, George shouldn't have subjected himself to the nearly freezing river water to save Clarence. And he'd better be prepared to compensate that property owner for the damage to his tree.

Finally, not one of the Bedford Falls residents or expatriates who donates money to the Baileys at the end of the film was under any contractual, legal or moral obligation to do so. They "owed" George nothing. George with his unsolicited "loans" and forgiveness of payments and so on is what the law calls an officious intermeddler.

Oh, P.S.: Angels and shit? Cut it out.

Now, LWOPs, in kind with our Republican friends and the odd Democrat, believe that a moral foundation that allows George to decide to spend his money and effort the way he does is a good thing. The quality of life for residents of Bedford Falls isn't the failure of an efficient market, but rather the welcome result of an emphasis on responsibility and morality -- caring about neighbors as much as one's self. We like looking at nekkid chicks, but don't think the absence of Pottersville strip clubs ruins the place. We'd rather drink in a bar where they'll throw the guy out who pops us instead of the bouncer being the one to pop us.

We don't go so far as to believe that there should be laws up and down the books trying to force every place to be Bedford Falls. That's where we part company with our major party friends. (Democrats, of course, would go for the strip clubs but require them to be environmentally friendly and give the strippers health care.) But we root for George, admire him, and get a kick out of Harry calling him the "richest man in town." Your plain vanilla libertarian would have to bristle at the thought George is "richer" than Potter.

That's what we dig about it!

(*) Matt Welch is fond of calling pro-war libertarians "women's shoe libertarians," as in, wearing libertarianism as long as it's comfortable, but taking it off when the going gets rough. The converse, we suppose, would be someone who so strictly adheres to whatever it is they think the Ninth Amendment is saying to them that they won't change a thing; even if their armpit hair gets a little dense (since we're all women, I guess), they won't shave it. That kind of thing.

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