What does philosophy tell us about the Apple tax affair? The outrageous part about Apple Inc’s audacious tax strategies isn’t whether they are legal. They may well be. The really outrageous thing is their political support. It is here that realpolitik comes in. Because Apple is not only a major employer and some sort of taxpayer, but part of a cherished Irish strategy of attracting foreign investment. Realpolitik is all about values.
It’s almost a yawn-inducing routine, finger-wagging politicians (even including some who wouldn’t be above a little squirreling away of expenses themselves) united in condemnation of tax evaders, mainly in the form of super-rich individuals but also, yes, in the form of multinational companies. In recent years, giant US behemoths like Amazon, Google and even Starbucks have been condemned for making huge amounts of money out of quaint, old-fashioned Europe while somehow avoiding the kind of taxes ordinary folks have to pay.
But now the routine has changed. With the European Union this month attempting to clip high-flying Apple’s wings with that €13 billion bill, politicians from Washington to Dublin to Hungary have united in their defence of the right of companies to their rather special and very discreet tax arrangements. “Bizarre and outrageous” was Minister for Finance Michael Noonan’s verdict on the European Commission’s Apple tax ruling after the Cabinet agreed it should be appealed.
Apple’s boss, Tim Cook, unashamedly chose the ethical high road in his reaction to the press denouncing the EU for serving up “political crap”. “When you are accused of something that is so foreign to your values, it brings out an outrage in you. That’s how we feel,” he said, adding, “Apple has always been about doing the right thing, never the easy thing.” Confucius and Plato would have applauded. For them, the importance of an action depends on the attitude with which it is performed. You should believe in what you do, and always do it for the right reasons, always in the right frame of mind.
Confucius’s focus on people’s actual beliefs and motives contrasted with a rival philosophy called Legalism, which looks rather like the approach of the European Commission. Legalism advocated bringing the masses into line by a severe system of penal law. However, as Confucius said: “Lead the people with governmental measures and regulate them by law and punishment, and they will avoid wrongdoing but will have no sense of honour and shame. Lead them with virtue and regulate them by the rules of propriety, and they will have a sense of shame.”
Confucius’ teachings, preserved in The Analects, are part of the underlying bedrock of much of subsequent Chinese speculation on education , government and virtuous behaviour. They can thus be properly compared with Plato’s writings in the West.
What is more, Confucius actually started life as a bureaucrat if not actually a Eurocrat – with his first job as a minor administrative manager in the state of Lu. He soon rose to the position of justice minister, earning a reputation for fairness, politeness and love of learning. When he was about 50, he gave up his political career in Lu, and began a 12-year journey around China, seeking the “Way” and, like a latter day Jean-Claude Juncker, trying unsuccessfully to convert different rulers to his political beliefs. Returning home, he spent the remainder of his life teaching and editing the ancient classics.
There’s also something Machiavellian about Apple. With the sweep of pen, it transfers its money-spinning intangible intellectual capital to a subsidiary in Ireland, which then “sells” it all over Europe – and keeps most of the profits too. Apple seems to be waiting for the next tax amnesty before returning funds to the US – and in 2014 Ireland was graciously obliging in asking Apple for a mere 0.005 per cent. After the last tax amnesty in 2004, US corporations repatriated about $300 billion from overseas, paying a tax rate of 5.25 per cent rather than the regular 35 per cent US corporate rate. Nonetheless, Cook even adopted the mantle of defender of Ireland saying: “Clearly the sovereignty of the country is at stake and the rule of law and sovereignty of law are at stake.”
When realpolitik makes morals bend over and obey, the ancient advice of Machiavelli invariably is recalled. Machiavelli is forever infamous for saying things like: the end justifies the means. As many politicians erroneously reason, if the end is good, then the means used to achieve it scarcely matter. If creating jobs in Ireland is good, then being cosy with US corporations is not a problem.
Machiavelli offered to would-be rulers in Renaissance Europe a way to transcend conventional values, especially the Christian ones, and follow instead a separate, privileged ethic of rulers. Naturally, this is not just a Machiavellian notion – even Plato allowed it in his “noble lie”, which he used to explain the different upbringing and roles of the citizens. Corruption in elections, and the use of violence and deceit to manipulate opinion is something of a political constant, and was particularly obvious in the affairs of the papacy. Machiavelli is simply presenting plainly a policy that most governments follow but prefer to keep veiled and ambiguous.
Yet many people misrepresent Machiavelli. He was not saying “might is right”, far less “anything goes” in government. Instead, one of his most consistent themes is the perils of ignoring injustice. He urges princes to “consider how important it is for every republic and every prince to take account of such offences, not only when an injury is done to a whole people but also when it affects an individual”.
Illustrative of this is his retelling of the story of the Greek noble, Pausanias, who was brutally raped by one of the king’s other favourites. When the attacker was later promoted, the victim vented his anger against the king by killing him, even though this involved “all manner of dangers” and inevitably ensured Pausanias’ own downfall. Machiavelli tells the story to demonstrate that ignoring injustice is not in any ruler’s or government’s interests.
The philosophers’ philosopher, David Hume, tried to do away with the notions of good and bad entirely, and for his trouble was refused any academic position and even prosecuted by his critics in 1756 at Edinburgh Church court for what they called heresy. One central charge made was that a close reading of his writings showed, they said, that Hume believed: “First, that all distinction between virtue and vice is merely imaginary” and that “Second, that justice has no foundation farther than it contributes to public advantage”.
Today, it seems, similar views are guiding Ireland.
Martin Cohen is editor of the Philosopher and author of numerous books in philosophy and social science. His new book, Cracking Philosophy, was published this month by Octopus
