Temperature-Controlled Governments

Pete Peterson

Community and the Individual Consumer

From the first state to pass its own greenhouse gas reduction legislation comes California’s latest contribution to energy public policy: the “smart thermostat.” For those who may not have seen the story, this state’s Energy Commission was about to propose a plan (before it was leaked) to the Legislature that would have mandated the usage of a networked thermostat in all new construction. What makes the proposed controller so unique (some might say insidious) is that it allows the temperature to be set both inside the house and remotely—by regional power authorities, during periods of high-energy consumption. At these peak times, which occur during the sweltering summer months, energy companies would have the ability to raise the temperature in buildings with these devices to prevent massive “brownouts” and “blackouts.”

California is a state that knows something about power outages and intentional shutdowns. During June of 2000, as temperatures broke 100 degrees in the Bay Area, regional power companies facing statewide disaster instituted the largest planned rolling blackout since World War II. To enforce hastily developed electricity usage restrictions, California police officers were told to check up on residents and businesses to make sure they weren’t leaving their lights on unnecessarily—a task for which they received the ignominious title, “watt cops.” The problems were blamed on factors including the recent state utilities deregulation (with a starring role played by Enron) and longstanding environmentalist challenges to new energy production facilities.

Fast-forward eight years and the elements of state energy policy are still related to basic economics: supply is not keeping up with demand. Still, the controversy over the “smart thermostat” plan exploded faster than a Death Valley thermometer and the proposal was derailed shortly after the story hit newsstands. Speaking to a reporter for the Los Angeles Daily News, Justin Sanders commented, “I think it’s pretty stupid. The government controls so much already. Why do they have to control your thermostat?” Orwellian visions and rhetoric pervaded the discussion of the proposal, sending even the most progressive politicians heading for the hills. Conservative state Assemblyman Rick Keene glowered, “What’s the next step? They’re going to put cameras in your house because they think they can cut down on domestic violence?”

Once the proposal was leaked, the California Energy Commission declined to comment on it, producing a written statement that said, in part: “The Energy Commission strongly supports demand-response strategies, and believes that the programmable communicating thermostat offers a valuable tool to dampen peak electricity use. Technology can be a powerful tool in managing our energy use. However, it is of utmost importance that consumers make their own energy decisions.” When encountering terms like “demand-response strategies” and “communicating thermostat,” one can be forgiven for wondering if Winston Smith, Orwell’s clerk in the Ministry of Truth, isn’t alive and well and working in Sacramento.

The Pressing Question

Still, amidst all the talk of “nanny governments” and “Big Brother,” a nagging question remains: what should be our responsibility to our “neighbor” during times when (for whatever reason) resources are scarce? For Californians, this is becoming an increasingly important query. Recent demographic studies predict the population here will almost double to 60 million by the year 2050. And it is not just about electricity. California’s water supply has also suffered due to mounting demand and environmental lobbying over the last five years. The policy responses to this problem have ranged from conservation campaigns to increased pricing. So far, no one has proposed installing “smart faucets.” But while it’s easy to deride administrative agencies like our Energy Commission for considering such invasive programs, their goal, as it was during the rolling blackouts of 2000, was to the greater “good”: to avoid an uncontrolled outage that would affect all citizens.

For the Libertarian, the simple solution to this problem is the all-important price tag. Like the Norwegian saying, “there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing,” the Friedmanite would say “there’s no such thing as scarcity, just bad pricing.” But what is missing from the purely market-driven response is an important normative problem related to the question posed earlier: Is price to be the only regulator of my consumption in light of the fact that my actions may negatively affect someone else?

I don’t mean to overstate my point here. I’m not saying that items like electricity or water—or gasoline, for that matter—are completely zero-sum markets. There is a valid policy concern in the difficulty of building out more supplies of energy and water. But the responses to the “smart thermostat” fiasco—particularly from those on the right—have been entirely focused either on the supply question (build more nuclear or coal-fired plants) or the aggressive role taken by the related bureaucracy in attempting to head off a total system shutdown. The generally conservative Denver Post editorial board, for example, responded with a litany of questions after learning about the California proposal: “If . . . government-controlled thermostats are acceptable, why not the rationing of gas? Why not ‘manage’ the times Americans vacation abroad? Why not dictate how many miles a person can live from his or her job? Why not decree that we all use public transportation?”

Rhetoric like this is entertaining, but it doesn’t get to what the Energy Commission should do in two months when temperatures out in Southern California’s valley regions will be busting 3-digits, and it avoids an important discussion about how far our governing institutions should go in the allocation of certain scarce resources in deference to some “public good,” whether that be avoiding a mass blackout or reducing smog. After all, it was that great federalist, Alexander Hamilton, who wrote in Federalist No. 15: “Why have governments been formed at all? Because the passions of men will not conform to the dictates of reason without restraint.”

Living Conservatively . . .

Finding resolution to these questions may involve understanding the difference between conservatism as an ideology (wrongly understood, I would argue) and living conservatively. Rod Dreher, a writer and editor at the Dallas Morning News, examines this very dichotomy in his very entertaining book, Crunchy Cons. Writing from a traditional conservative perspective and quoting extensively from its philosophers like Russell Kirk, Wendell Berry, and Eric Voegelin, Dreher sees the inherent difference between these two perspectives in the understanding of a citizen’s responsibility toward his community.

Dreher, a self-proclaimed “Crunchy Con” (short for conservative), sees this tension being played out within the Republican party: “Republicans view the individual as sovereign, and freedom of individual choice as the highest good. The mid-century conservative theorists who advanced a more family-oriented, communitarian politics . . . have been given little or no voice in the contemporary Republican party.” Dreher quotes the historian John Lukacs, who writes in his book Democracy and Populism: “It may be that in the future the true divisions will be not between Right and Left but between two kinds of Right; between people on the Right whose binding belief is their contempt for Leftists, who hate liberals more than they love liberty, and others who love liberty more than they fear liberals; between nationalists and patriots.”

Dreher describes how his “Crunchy-Con” lifestyle is lived through a series of personal stories that encompass home-schooling and buying produce from his local farmer. At the heart of his conservatism is a deep awareness of community responsibilities during a time of hyper-individualism and self-control during a time of enormous wealth. Dreher argues that “a conservatism that does not recognize the need for restraint, for limits, and for humility is neither helpful to individuals and society, nor, ultimately, conservative.”

For the Christian, this call to community is poignant. Jesus said that “Love your neighbor as yourself” is the second most important commandment. But there is a consumerist, individualist strain that runs through many political philosophies that tend to be right of center. Dreher and many traditional conservatives point towards a conservatism that is consistent with most major faiths, particularly Christianity.

In his magisterial City of God, Augustine frequently talks about the responsibility of Christians to participate in the life of their communities, calling the “social life” a platform from which the “supreme good” can be approached. He writes, “thus, when it is asked whether a wise man will adopt the social life, and desire and be interested in the supreme good of his friend as in his own, or will, on the contrary, do all that he does merely for his own sake, there is no question here about the supreme good.” The “supreme good,” then is, inherently, something found in community; it is not an individual pursuit.

In places like California, the questions of restraint and commitment to the community have become particularly pressing around issues of energy supply and pollution. In the smog-choked San Joaquin Valley, regional officials are debating legislation that would ban the use of fireplaces during certain times . . . much to the legitimate chagrin of those (usually from the lower income brackets) whose fireplaces are their sole heating source. Again, the howls of “nanny government” have gone out, but the deeper debate about personal responsibility—say, from those who don’t need to use their fireplaces—go unanswered, and the smog problem continues . . . for everyone.

It appears that when individual citizens fail to govern themselves, our bureaucratic institutions will step in . . . often to the detriment of all. Better check that thermostat—it’s starting to feel a little warm in here.  

Pete Peterson is a Lecturer on State and Local Governance at Pepperdine’s School of Public Policy.

Features, Public Square, Society, Fri 30 May 2008