Economist Alan Reynolds has some sharp critiques for Bush regarding these two themes. He argues that contrary to popular opinion, U.S. consumption of Middle Eastern oil is relatively small: "We are buying more oil from Canada, Mexico, Russia and others. The Persian Gulf accounted for only 16.3 percent of total U.S. oil imports in November, down from 19 percent last year and 23.3 percent in 2001. Since Iraq accounts for more than 26 percent of U.S. oil imports from the Persian Gulf, war damage to Iraq oil fields had the ironic effect of reducing 'our dependence on Middle Eastern oil.'" Reynolds also defends the notion that political isolationism can (and should) be separated from protectionism: "Isolationism implies being wary of foreign entanglements, minding our own business, concentrating on domestic affairs and not initiating wars. Avoiding willy-nilly meddling in other nations' political problems is entirely consistent with free trade." He then adds the quote from Thomas Jefferson noted above.

Ironically, filmmaker Stephen Gaghan, whose politics differ drastically from Bush's, makes a similar error in conflating distinct economic and political concepts. His Syriana (2005) analyzes the phenomenon of oil and how this "black gold" fuels corruption within individuals, corporations, and governments worldwide. However, while his analysis is complex and thought-provoking, Gaghan neglects to parse out the one actor—namely, the State—that has done the most to facilitate oil-based corruption. More on that later.

As a film, Syriana is simply fantastic. Gaghan traces the lives of several characters who are somehow connected with oil and Middle Eastern politics: a CIA field operative, an oil company lawyer, an oil analyst, the son of an emir, a young Pakistani oil worker, etc. Syriana has no single "lead actor," per se, since the numerous "primary actors" are given equal time. This is not the movie to watch if you crave deep character development; rather, Gaghan focuses on crafting a complex series of interrelated plots and subplots, jumping from character to character, location to location, in a mélange of cinematic globalization. Some have said that the film is hard to follow, but I suggest that viewers not attempt an analysis of Syriana until the end; while in the middle of the film, just immerse yourself "in the moment," soaking in Gaghan's carefully chosen words and images.

In terms of interpretation, conventional movie reviewers have noted that Gaghan's primary purpose is to condemn oil as the commodity that fuels corruption and destroys lives all over the world. As far as I can tell, the cause-and-effect looks something like this:

• Westerners, particularly Americans, buy lots of oil.
  
  
• Oil is thus seen as not just another commodity, but as essential to U.S. "national security" (broadly defined).
  
  
• Politicians and policy makers thus believe that they must maintain a supply of oil that is steady enough so that Americans' pennies are not pinched too hard. If the economy starts to stagnate because of high fuel prices, then incumbents may suffer. (It is important to keep in mind that despite all of the recent bellyaching about gas prices, we still pay relatively little to feed our "addiction." In addition, the general increase in prices over the past several years appears to have had little to no effect on our rates of consumption).
  
  
• Unfortunately, most Middle Eastern oil supplies do not reside in stable, democratically elected countries with free markets; rather, they reside in monarchies or other authoritarian regimes. Thus, if American and European oil companies want to drill, they must deal primarily with states, rather than private actors (e.g., private property owners).
  
  
• States, however, are not necessarily the most reliable partners. Uprisings and coups can oust leaders and change the political landscape with which oil companies must deal. Thus, in order to ensure some level of stability, companies rely on their own governments to, say, "encourage" a certain level of cooperation from Middle Eastern polities. In the American context, oil companies donate heavily to politicians' campaign coffers, and the politicians, in turn, use whatever means at their disposal (diplomacy, military action, covert operations) to ensure the best outcome for their donors and constituents.
  
  
• The U.S. government's support of "oil-friendly" Middle Eastern leaders, who also happen to be corrupt and despotic, fuels the rage of Islamic militants and suicide bombers...whose attacks provoke blistering American responses...which, in turn, further enrage the militants....

You see where this is all going. Without oil, the U.S. would have very little incentive to involve itself in Middle Eastern affairs (with the possible exception of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict). Both business and government are in cahoots to extract as much petroleum from the earth as possible, and millions of individual Middle Easterners get caught in the economic and political crossfire.

Yet, Gaghan neglects one very simple solution in his otherwise astute analysis: state disengagement. Even though oil companies must deal with Middle Eastern political actors in order to extract petroleum, it is unclear why the U.S. government must become part of the process. If an American company signs a contract with an emirate, and the latter ends up reneging on that contract, why should the U.S. taxpayer bail out the company (or, more broadly, ensure that oil-friendly regimes remain in power)? Government subsidies of business, whether through bailouts or political interventions, are merely forms of corporate welfare that should be condemned by anybody who cares about free markets and clean government. If an oil company loses money from a deal gone sour, then so be it — that is the cost (and risk) of doing business.

"Wait a minute," you might say. "Couldn't regimes unfriendly to the U.S. initiate a new oil cartel, as they did in the 70s? If we don't guarantee a steady supply of oil, won't individual consumers suffer? (Never mind the oil companies.)" Setting aside the question of whether the U.S. government should be in the business of guaranteeing stable gas prices (both free market advocates and environmentalists would agree that it shouldn't), we need to interrogate the notion that oil producers have consumers in a chokehold. Demand for oil is not as inelastic as we might be led to believe; as the journalist Ronald Bailey notes, "...the only way we've ever cut back on imported oil is in response to higher prices. World oil prices peaked in real terms in 1980 at about $90 per barrel. In 1977, U.S. imports were 6.6 million barrels per day. By 1985, imports had been cut in half to 3.2 million barrels. Why? Simple economics: Higher prices boosted domestic production and reduced consumption." Thus, while short-term jolts to oil prices do hurt, in the long run, they encourage consumers to look for alternatives — we are not as beholden to Middle Eastern emirs and oil barons as we think.

Thus, Gaghan's stylish, complicated, and brilliantly crafted Syriana is missing just one important piece of the analytical puzzle: state disengagement. Without state involvement, the levels of corruption and violence that permeate the oil industry would be significantly lessened. Oil companies would be left to fend for themselves, and without their home governments bailing them out, they probably would make significantly different decisions than they do now. If our consumption of Middle Eastern oil is an "addiction," then we must ask ourselves: who facilitates it?