Should Something Be Done About Alcohol?
By Robert H. Bork, William J. Bennett





Robert Bork:

Virtuocracy--which may be defined as the bureaucratization of personal morality--is on the move again. We have just seen public hatred of tobacco companies whipped to a fever pitch with some dubious arguments. Now it is the turn of the liquor industry. Before we succumb once more it would be well to examine the social science and raise some questions that social science cannot answer.

William J. Bennett has recently noted that a high density of liquor stores and a high rate of crime often coincide. For that reason, he argues, the number of liquor stores and the amount of liquor advertising in poor neighborhoods should be limited by law. Moreover, Bennett wrote recently in the New York Times, "If the liquor industry does not start acting in a more socially responsible way, it may soon find itself held in the same kind of esteem in which the tobacco companies are now held."

There are, it is said, only three or four arguments in the world. Two of them are "It's a slippery slope" and "No, it's not." In this case, the slope is indeed quite slick. After tobacco, alcohol is next on the hit list of the morally superior and the trial lawyers (two groups that are not to be confused). Already we are hearing that Absolut Vodka advertisements are the Joe Camels of drinking, and that, since larger automobiles tend to crunch smaller ones in accidents, sports/utility vehicles are the Joe Camels of automobiles. Who will be next? Only the plaintiffs' trial lawyers know for certain.

Taken one at a time, there is a good case for banning any number of products and services. And there surely is a link between alcohol and violence. But there is also a link, as Bennett and his colleagues note, between strong community norms and the decline of both violence and drinking. There is also a connection between police presence and the inhibition of drinking and violence.

It is well to remember that the greater density of outlets for alcohol in poor neighborhoods reflects the choice of the individuals involved. Bennett appears to disagree: "It makes no sense to insist that it is all merely a matter of free markets, as if liquor stores simply go where the people want what they sell." This is to deny an economic truism. What, other than demand, can account for the presence of any business? Sellers go where people want what they offer.

Alcohol can be a very serious problem. But the solution of just taking away what people want because it is bad for them lets loose a principle that is very hard to contain. That is the virtucratic answer to any social problem. Though Mr. Bennett is not himself a virtucrat but an astute cultural commentator, he is providing the social science cover behind which the virtucrats advance.

This is not to say, however, that nothing can be done. I've noted the effectiveness of strong community norms, and attachment to traditional institutions, in curbing alcohol-related disorder. Of these institutions, the churches of a community are probably the most important propagators of real virtue--virtue that leads to personal responsibility rather than social manipulation.

Professor John DiIulio, who studied the alcohol-crime link with Mr. Bennett and is one of America's foremost social scientists, has announced that he will spend the majority of his time for the rest of his career working with inner-city ministers and churches in an attempt to restore to those communities the values that are now too frequently absent. New York City, moreover, has demonstrated that effective policing can reduce crime, perhaps by almost half. These sorts of efforts are far more likely to be productive than simply beating up on liquor companies.

America achieved greatness by relying on individuals to take personal responsibility for their own behavior, a reliance usually buttressed or inspired by religion. As one of America's premier social scientists has observed: "In the mid-nineteenth century England and America reacted to the consequences of industrialization, urbanization, immigration, and affluence by asserting an ethos of self-control, whereas in the late twentieth century they reacted to many of the same forces by asserting an ethos of self-expression." The ethos of self-control was inculcated by churches and by other institutions related to religion. That is why efforts to revitalize inner-city churches are so important.

To accept the virtucratic answer to our problems is to accept the ethos of self-expression as inevitable and beyond our capacity to alter, except by legal compulsion. Perhaps that is the case. But it would be better to try to inculcate morality, personal responsibility, and self-control before we adopt the strategy of treating the poor as recalcitrant children.

Robert Bork is the former solicitor general of the United States, the author of Slouching Towards Gomorrah, and Olin Scholar in Legal Studies at the American Enterprise Institute. This article was reprinted in the October 17, 1997 issue of The New York Times.

William J. Bennett:

One needn't consult the research literature to see that there is a strong link between alcohol availability, alcohol consumption, and crime. Simply travel to inner-city neighborhoods and talk to residents, teachers, law enforcement officials, and pastors. You'll find that liquor outlets are where alcoholics and crack addicts congregate, and that in areas with a high concentration of liquor outlets there will often be a hornet's nest of alcohol-related social problems: crime, public urination, homelessness, disorder, broken windows, broken bottles, broken lives. This is inner-city, street-level reality.

There is near-universal agreement among the good people who are struggling to bring decency to these mean streets that the density of liquor outlets needs to be reduced and, because alcohol manufacturers bombard urban neighborhoods with beer and malt liquor ads, billboard and other local ads need to be restricted. In some instances, this will require imposing more stringent zoning ordinances on liquor stores and placing new limits on alcohol advertising near schools, churches, and public housing. In other cases, existing alcohol-related ordinances simply need to be enforced more aggressively (as they are in affluent suburbs) by anemic liquor control agencies.

When I made these points in a recent book and New York Times essay, some conservatives reacted critically. "Family values" columnist Maggie Gallagher wrote that she was troubled by a New Puritanism stalking the land. And I was told one conservative asked, "What's the next target, Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream for clogging veins with cholesterol?"

These are odd reactions, given that I don't advocate alcohol prohibition, greater federal involvement, tobacco-like settlements, or having lawmakers dictate policies to inner-city residents. What I do support are the admirable efforts of local citizens who are getting their brains beaten in by the proliferation of liquor outlets. I don't think conservatives should object when inner-city residents try to fight back against conditions that residents of affluent districts would never tolerate.

I agree with what my friend Bob Bork says in his companion essay about effective policing, inculcating morality, and the role churches must play. What I disagree with is his argument that the majority of people who live in neighborhoods with a high density of alcohol outlets are just getting what they want. What Bork doesn't acknowledge with his reference to the "economic truism" of supply following demand is that a relatively small minority of people in a neighborhood can consume enough alcohol to make it profitable for sellers to be there, even if that is contrary to the will of the majority. James Q. Wilson and others have noted that public drunkenness is ranked by many urban residents as neighborhood enemy number one.

A recent Washington Post article illustrates the point. Because of overwhelming community opposition, a new Washington, D.C. grocery store abandoned its bid to obtain a liquor license. The pastor of a local church put it this way: "Five hundred community residents spoke with one voice to say, 'We don't want another drop of alcohol in this community.'" A resident pointed to three liquor outlets in the same block and said, "We didn't need another outlet for beer and wine in this community."

You will not find three liquor outlets on the same block in Chevy Chase, Maryland; Scarsdale, New York; or Bel Air, California. A minority of residents may want that, but the majority won't allow it. And they don't worry that in keeping a lid on the number of liquor outlets (and attendant violence) they are sliding down a slippery slope toward a ban of Ben and Jerry's Ice Cream. Under what theory of democracy do we deny the citizens of a community the prerogative to restore lawful order in their lives? It is not written in the conservative tablets that the right to engage in commerce supersedes everything else.

Would Judge Bork, Maggie Gallagher, and others worry over zoning restrictions if the issue were pornography shops instead of liquor outlets? I doubt it. Judge Bork advocates government censorship of pornography on the Internet, in movies, and in rap music, and those who oppose him in this often invoke the slippery slope argument themselves ("Today it's Marilyn Manson, tomorrow it's Elvis Presley"). As a brilliant, forceful advocate of public decency, what possible objection could he have against local residents banning alcohol billboard advertising from the horizons of schools? And why doesn't Bork consider government censorship of pornography to be the "bureaucratization of personal morality"?

When the "little platoons" that Burke referred to actually work to make a positive difference in their community, we ought to applaud, not complain. In supporting their aspirations we are treating them not as "recalcitrant children" but as fellow citizens.

William J. Bennett, former head of the Office of National Drug Control Policy, is co-director of Empower America.