R: Mandate Temperance

There is no doubt that to indulge is to sin. When a man turns himself away from what is holy and chooses to follow personal, temporal pleasures, he is, by definition, committing sin—“wandering” from the path of goodness. However, this debate seeks to challenge not the sinful nature of indulgence, but rather the government’s ability to control that indulgence, as well as the extent that consumption can be considered indulgence. For the sake of this debate, “temperance” does not refer to the ability to live in moderation and to enjoy one’s desires with control. Instead, we will use the social, historical definition of the word—the one employed by proponents of the temperance movement of the 19th and early-20th centuries, which culminated in the constitutional prohibition of the alcohol industry in the United States. We all recognize that the government has an obligation to outlaw certain activities. But a serious discussion must be had over where the promotion of the common good ends and tyranny begins.

The affirmative adheres to the words of P. T. Barnum—that “a moderate drinker generally commits suicide moderately.” It is contradictory to claim to be temperate while consuming a substance that acts as a poison to both the human body and soul. Even ignoring the number of deaths directly attributable to alcoholism each year, there are millions of people whose lives have been forever damaged by the reckless decisions of both loved ones and complete strangers who were under the influence. Mandated temperance, they argue, is truly conservative: it forces people to make cautious, rational decisions that allow them to lead their lives with goodness and freedom from sin. If you believe you are your brother’s keeper, you ought to consider the temperance mandate.

The negative implores those in the affirmative to follow their logic to its extreme ends. If we operate under the assumption that every sinful activity should be illegal, no government short of a total Christian theocracy would be able to fulfill our vision. Instead of dreaming about utopia, it would be wise for us to employ rational, practical measures for limiting indulgence and promoting the education of the population on matters of judgment. In addition, those in the negative reject the notion that all consumption is sinful, arguing that a balance of intake—including of alcohol—is the hallmark of a truly healthy society. If you believe that virtue is something that is earned through choice, not bestowed through ignorance, you ought to consider the maintenance of the status quo.

Is alcohol an inherent evil? Can virtue be achieved without choice? And is it possible for us, as Federalists, to promote the “tempering of taste” while serving alcohol at our debates?