Who Can Really Say?

The truth is that, under the guise of reform, we often make matters worse. The reason that we're so seduced by reform is that it appeals to our national optimism. If something's wrong, we Americans think we can fix it. We're a nation of compulsive problem-solvers. But we don't often enough ask whether the problem is worth solving or whether the solution creates even larger problems. In these cases, we've (1) made the long-term budget outlook darker and (2) quietly eroded basic rights of free speech and political association for no real benefit. (The assault on the "appearance of corruption" is futile because reformers believe that large sums of political money are inevitably corrupting.) I am not arguing that all reforms -- all changes to the status quo -- fail. Many succeed dramatically. To take one example: On the whole, environmental regulation has worked. But most reforms, even successful ones, don't live up to exaggerated expectations. The reformist impulse, the late historian Richard Hofstadter once wrote, "often wanders over the border between reality and impossibility." Because reformers habitually embrace utopian goals, results routinely fall short and breed disappointment. . . .

What I'm arguing now is that our debates would be more candid, rigorous and productive if we abandoned the very notion of reform and concentrated on the actual virtues and vices of whatever is being proposed. Reform is a dangerous simplifier and filter, designed to screen out honest skepticism and dissent. The reform we really need is to drop the word altogether. Almost certainly, we won't get it.