Not all knowledge is created equal. Some facts, some theories, are more important than others. And in America, there are few things more important to know than the Constitution.

As my readers can attest, I've believed this for some time. Friends who have received from me that elegant little pocketbook Constitution that the Cato Institute puts out know this too.

There are a lot of very practical people who scorn that kind of knowledge, though. The Constitution? What does that have to do with getting things done?

The only reason some study it is to find ways to get around it.

No surprise there. The Constitution was designed to prevent some things from happening in certain ways. But politicians are clever people, and more than two centuries of relentless power lust masquerading as "get 'er done" practicality has largely eroded the Constitution's power to stop much of anything.

That's how the Constitution became more theoretical than practical, historical than "relevant."

I'd like to bring the practicality of it back.

Now, practical knowledge doesn't exist cordoned off, secure and alone. Some theoretical knowledge is very relevant. For example, knowing the Constitution doesn't help much if you also believe that human beings are better off slaves to a managerial state, rolled over like so many sausages on an outdoor grill until well done. With this top-down orientation, treating people as little more than things to be rolled for the common good (and "for their own good," hot dog!), the Constitution can't help but seem stodgy, even foolish.

The Man As Sausage Theory ain't my philosophy, and the Charcoal Grill Theory of the State doesn't qualify as political science. I know, that's not how their adherents name their notions, but I can catch a whiff of the barbecue even when I'm not invited.

You guessed: I'm not at all certain our colleges' burgeoning sociology and poly-sci departments have done us a great deal of good. Still, I'm not anti-science. Every time I come across something interesting, I try to take note of it.

Take economics. The Tough Stuff of the science, the real theory — the math, the models, all that — is mostly beyond me. I simplify what I learn down to a few kernels that I call Truths. You know:

1. People make mistakes, but can learn from them; it's easier to learn from your own than someone else's.
2. When trading, both parties expect to gain, and usually do. There's no equality involved, except in the sense that both parties do have that same reasonable expectation to gain.
3. Other transactions, like in government, usually amount to taking from A and giving to B, with a nice cut for C in the process. All parties can't win in this scenario.

Which brings me to game theory . . . which I'm pretty sure I read about before I saw A Beautiful Mind. It turns out that there's a deep connection between some basic economic ideas and games. Take my third truth-kernel, above. That distinction can be made in game theory terms, between positive sum and zero sum games.

Market interaction, at its base, is positive sum, where both parties win (I want your radish, you want my dollar; we exchange; we're both better off).

In a zero sum game, one person wins and one person loses (you want my dollar; you whack me over the head; I'm out a dollar and my head's buzzing, and you've got my dollar).

In negative sum games everybody loses (we're both whacking each other over the head, and each comes out . . . behind, and with sore heads).

You could almost define a leftist as a person who sees people trading and thinks someone must be getting gypped. And who then ignores the fact that government programs look a lot more like thefts, on balance: some people pay and others benefit. (Only a few goods, like the rule of law, work out to benefit each of us, all coming out ahead.)

Ah, modern politics! — the art of pretending that an essentially zero sum game like government is really a positive sum game, and, in the process, turning the whole thing into a negative sum mess. Continued...