With the fighting over in Iraq, what economic lesson can we draw from the squabbles that emerged when performers and others raised their voices in protest during the last few months?
Actor Tim Robbins claims that the Baseball Hall of Fame violated his freedom of expression when its leaders cited his anti-war views as the reason they canceled an anniversary showing of his movie “Bull Durham.” ABC is getting calls to cancel a series planned for Janeane Garafolo, the comedic actor who was also a visible critic of the war. Even the Dixie Chicks, the country trio whose lead singer criticized President Bush and then apologized, may lose a gig in an iced tea ad.
None of this is going to shake the foundations of the U.S. economy. But why can Lipton fire the Dixie Chicks for their political views but not discriminate on the basis of race or religion in hiring employees?
The question can be answered from a number of angles. One is that free speech is fundamental to democracy, but speaking out is a voluntary act inherently different from status such as race, gender or age over which an individual has no control.
Another is that canceling a public event, such as a showing of “Bull Durham” in Robbins’ case, doesn’t violate the Constitution’s guarantee of free expression. The Bill of Rights merely says “Congress shall make no law … abridging freedom of speech.” Government can’t limit free speech, but people can.
The drafters of the Bill of Rights wanted to make it explicitly clear that people had a right to speak. They knew that there is no way to guarantee that speaking out will always be easy or unchallenged. Prohibiting commercial responses to unpopular speech would be impossible to administer and a chilling of expression.
Not buying goods or services made by a firm that takes some unpopular line or backs some unpopular cause is a common tactic on both ends of the political spectrum. Some liberals still refuse to drink Coors beer because of conservative positions held by members of the Coors family. Some conservatives refuse to watch Disney movies because that firm gave benefits to same-sex partners of employees.
There is no way to force liberals to drink Coors or to make conservatives take their children to Disney movies. Indeed, any such direction by government would counter the very idea of a free society. In such a society, consumers can choose what they want to buy and from whom for whatever reason. They can decide based on price, quality and convenience or on deeply held political or religious beliefs.
If you don’t want to buy a product made by bald, white, overweight Protestant males like me, you don’t have to and government can’t make you. If you choose to buy only products made in union shops, that is your right just as it is to buy organic vegetables or to not buy products made in China because of that nation’s occupation of Tibet.
But while consumers have near complete freedom in this regard, producers effectively don’t.
The Baseball Hall of Fame can refuse to show a film in which Tim Robbins stars. But if it lets anyone into its museum, it cannot keep Robbins out because of his political beliefs.
Lipton can pull a Dixie Chicks commercial, but it cannot refuse to sell tea to people who oppose the war. And while you can refuse to buy a newspaper that prints columns written by myopic Dutch Calvinists in their 50s, if you run a business, you cannot refuse to hire someone just because of their religion, age or many medical conditions.
Note that these protections against discrimination in employment and “public accommodation” are much newer in our laws than free speech. Nor do they explicitly appear in the text of the Constitution or its amendments.
When I was a child, discrimination based on race and religion was common. Many builders just after World War II still included restrictive covenants designed to keep Jews and people of color out of housing developments. In 1958, the Federal Land Bank office in Slayton, Minn., legally told my mother, “Mrs. Lotterman, we simply don’t make loans to women.” And a small-town tavern owner refused to serve young men thought to be draft dodgers.
Actions over the past four decades to ban discrimination in employment and in the sale of goods and services corrected many injustices that had long prevailed. Conservative economists argue that these actions also decreased the efficiency of the economy to some degree. They are probably right, but as far as I’m concerned the gains in fairness clearly outweigh any losses in output.
The process has been messy. As protection against discrimination is extended to more and more “classes” of people, the efficiency costs clearly rise.
Some victories are symbolic. Years ago, utility companies defended hiring only men to work as linemen. They argued only men were strong enough to raise ladders and hoist material up poles. They lost the argument, but were allowed to specify the ability to lift certain weights as a condition of employment. Two decades later, most crews are predominantly male.
And sometimes, government action frees all companies from competitive pressures they would face without it. For instance, airlines long fired flight attendants once they got past specified ages or body weights. Each argued that if they changed this policy, they would lose customers to other airlines that continued to hire only young, “attractive” women. Perhaps they were right. But when all airlines were forced to change their practices at the same time and allow older women to continue to work, millions of airline customers did not suddenly switch to taking the bus.
Should we ban any business action taken in retaliation for political speech? Clearly not. But the issue is not as clear as it was a century ago when the idea of a constitutional right to nondiscriminatory treatment had not yet flowered.
© 2003 Edward Lotterman
Chanarambie Consulting, Inc.