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Health & Fitness

Two Hijackings

Art mimics life, and two recent films demonstrate quite well how differently the world is viewed by those living under an Empire — and those who recognize that their government and their culture is not the world's reserve of moral currency.

Warning: Spoiler Alert!

In A Hijacking, a 2012 film written and directed by Denmark's Tobias Lindholm, a merchant ship is taken over by Somali pirates, and the corporation that owns the ship immediately hires the services of a professional negotiator and begins the long, arduous journey to safely recover the crew and ship intact.

A Hijacking is a brilliant film that slips seamlessly back and forth between the events taking place on the ship (seen largely through the eyes of the ship's cook, Mikkel, played flawlessly by Pilou Asbækessly) and the rising, exhausting tension back home where company CEO Peter Ludvigsen (the excellent Søren Malling) risks his sanity, his marriage, and even the stability of the company to resolve the crisis.

Without a Hollywood budget, actors, and special effects — there's not even a soundtrack — the movie, at just 103 minutes, pulls the viewer in and simply does not let go. Right up to the final scene we ride a roller coaster of uncertainty that leaves us emotionally drained and, remarkably, far from that sense of "all is right with the world" that comes from what is, nominally at least, a happy ending. While a work of fiction (though inspired by actual events), A Hijacking looks and feels like real life.

Enter Captain Phillips, the true story of Vermont native Captain Richard Phillips, who was taken hostage in 2009 when his ship, the Maersk Alabama, was hijacked in international waters off the Somali coast. The film, which came out late last year, stars Tom Hanks (and, let's face it, they had me at Tom Hanks), runs on a bit at 134 minutes, but could not be described as boring. A tad monotonous, perhaps, but not boring.

However, it could not escape that Hollywood-esque element which insists on pushing one person into the foreground to capture our attention and inspire our sympathy, at the expense of just about everyone else. But, to be fair, that is the real story here. The heroic actions of the actual Captain Phillips are told in detail (though not necessarily with complete accuracy), with the additional advantage of an intervention by the US Navy (the "global force for good", if you believe the propaganda) and concluding with a dramatic, successful rescue by Navy SEALs. It's a good film, to be sure, that tells the story of a normal person thrust into abnormal circumstances, and handling it to the best of his ability.

But it's more than that: it's a recruitment video for the US military. Like A Hijacking, it has no soundtrack — except for the scenes involving the SEALs. Then we're subjected to the subtle but inescapable melodrama evoked by all that a Hollywood score-writer can deliver, designed to remind us most unsubtley that, yes, these are the real good guys, the real heroes we should admire and emulate.

And my oh my, don't they look good doing it! Can all special operations folks really be so damn attractive? Somehow I doubt it.

Don't misunderstand: that was some fine shooting. Who can't appreciate that?

Yet it's fair to evaluate the different responses to what was largely the same depicted situation, and the different efforts made to fix what was most certainly a broken situation — and the potential consequences. 

In the first film, the viewer would never know there was a government in Denmark at all (of course there is plenty of government in Denmark!), so focused would he be on the efforts made by the company on behalf of its ship and crew, and no merchant shipping company in its right mind would do any less; the investment in both is just too high, as would be the price in good standing that would have to be paid if the company abandoned its employees. That's why it's typical in wealthy, First World countries for merchant shipping companies (and other companies, as well) to insure themselves and their employees against just such an eventuality.

That said, they face certain limitations. As the negotiator reminds us in A Hijacking, resolving the crisis involves finding a dollar amount that rests somewhere between what the company would like to pay (as little as possible) and what the pirates would like to receive (as much as possible). That is difficult, to say the least. And it takes time. The hostages endure months of captivity before their eventual release. Still, the money is paid, and the hostages come home (except for one, who is randomly killed at the last minute), without taxpayers footing the bill for a massive, expensive military operation.

In short, it's a company matter that is dealt with by the company. That's how it should be.

What's this?!!! We should "cut and run", and give in to these thugs? Doesn't that just give pirates an incentive?

Well, no — and for a couple of reasons.

First of all, "we" aren't responsible for dealing with this problem. Those who take risky jobs understand the risks they entail, and shouldn't expect taxpayers and massive military operations to bail them out when they get in trouble — especially when they're halfway around the world. Armies and navies exist to protect the borders of countries defined by those living in voluntary societies that occupy a particular geographic area — not to serve as private policemen on behalf of big corporations and their rich stockholders. In "The Proper Sphere of Government" (1843), Herbert Spencer wrote that

a community is a body of men associated together for mutual defence. The members of that community are supposed to occupy a certain territory; and it may fairly be assumed that the privileges conferred are only enjoyed by those residing within that territory. The nation cannot be expected to extend protection to its members wherever they may chance to wander. It cannot be called upon to defend the rights of a citizen in whatever corner of the earth he may choose to locate himself.

"We" were only involved on the insistence of chest-thumping militarists whose phallus size seems to increase whenever a uniformed operator pulls a trigger (so long as it's a US uniform, that is) — but who see nothing but dishonor in an issue's being resolved without "those dirty bastards" suffering in some way that gratifies the egos of those safely back home (even if it's usually innocent people who do the suffering). They insist that our military police the world. Alas, that's not our military's job.

It can also create perverse incentives — for the shipping companies. Like any socialized endeavor, it makes everyone responsible for everyone else's decisions, which is inconsistent with personal achievement and, more relevant here, personal responsibility. When an individual or company knows that, regardless of how risky the behavior, the US government will step in to fix their problems, no longer will those involved be making clear-headed choices. The moral hazard created provides an incentive rather to err on the side of risk and not caution, needlessly dragging unwitting others into their bad decision-making. It privatizes success while socializing failure, and that can be a very corrupting environment.

Interestingly, the head of Liberty Maritime Corp. bravely took the opposite approach after the Liberty Sun was unsuccessfully attacked by Somali pirates, telling a Senate subcommittee that US-flagged ships should be allowed to arm and protect themselves, and that legal obstacles to their doing so should be cleared away. Good for him.

Does that mean Captain Phillips should have been abandoned to his fate? Of course not, and that's the point: without military intervention — again very, very expensive military intervention — the company he worked for would have negotiated his release. He was a valuable catch for the pirates, and would have been returned after a negotiation that reached agreement on a dollar amount mutually beneficial to all the parties involved.

What of this issue of price? Are we to be so callous as to weigh an individual life in dollars? Well, yes, and anyone who says otherwise will eventually have to concede that point. Don't believe me? Then ask yourself how much "we" should have been willing to pay to retrieve Captain Phillips. A million? A billion? A trillion? Ten trillion? I promise, sooner or later, when the trade-off becomes apparent, the price will become too high, for anyone. How much is Captain Phillips's life worth then? That was between him, his employer, and his captors. The American public should not have been on the hook for their lifestyle choices.

These two recent movies, both enjoyable stories portrayed by highly talented actors with good scripts and excellent directors, provide an insight into two diametrically opposed worldviews. On the one hand, we have a humble but wealthy Danish company that understands the risks inherent in its operations and, when complications arise, acts with integrity and determination to resolve the matter without bloodshed, without destruction, and without third-party interference. On the other hand, we have the mighty US Empire acting with its usual hubris and reacting (or rather, over-reacting) to a hostage situation as if it were a small battle. One need not sympathize with the bad guys to recognize that the good guys can still accomplish their mission without helicopters, without warships, without sexy commandos, and without a soundtrack.

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