As another year concludes, I feel the urge to explain how I came to be an advocate of self-government. I did not realize at first how personally revealing this article would end up becoming. Though, I am glad to have this opportunity for self-reflection, and I hope it is a compelling look at my past.
I suppose it all went wrong – my indoctrination to mainstream thought – because my parents were not of one mind. Especially on the bigger questions of life, I was free to decide for myself. Of course my parents each hoped I would turn out like them; parents do that. Usually, people are raised in homes with a prevailing set of views on life, morality, spirituality or government. In fact there are religious and political forces that advocate indoctrinating children in these areas. They claim it is irresponsible not to impose some sort of preconceived belief system on children. And perhaps, they are right, after all, I am the product of such an "irresponsible" home.
Images of rebellious youth are charming, as with Vietnam era hippies coming from conservative homes, followed by a resurgence of conservative youths in liberal homes (as personified by Michael J. Fox on television’s "Family Ties"). Yet this model does not represent most people, and even when it does, it is usually just short-lived youthful rebellion. Most people are products of their upbringing. It seems natural and even healthy for each generation to believe itself more "enlightened" than the previous one. Yet, I find that many view life in much the same way their parents did, with that being the sole justification for their perspectives; they made no conscious decision. This is especially true where strong political and religious affiliations are concerned.
I too was a product of my home, but not because I see life the way my parents and older siblings did. Instead they served as an example that, despite all of the claims to moral superiority, the opposing popular views on life are not necessarily superior to each other. They are locked in a struggle for power and are thus forced to make never-ending, uncomfortable compromises of their own ideals. I was in a unique position to consider the strengths and inadequacy of each, the truth and hypocrisy of both sides and decide for myself.
And yet, it seemed that I was destined to be a liberal, and indeed, I still have great affection for socially progressive goals. For the longest time, most everyone in my life leaned left of center, including my sisters, and all of my friends and social circle. I was born in St. Andrew, Jamaica in early 1964 and raised by my parents and two sisters who are 9 and 11 years older than I am. When my family moved from Jamaica to Buffalo, New York, in November 1968, my sisters were almost 14 and 16; the older one had already started attending a Junior college in Florida, and was not as active in raising me after that. Nonetheless, all three women were a significant influence at the height of the women’s movement. So I had memorable exposure to and feel great affinity with socially progressive ideals.
On the other hand, there was my dad representing a very traditional, and often imposing conservative viewpoint. Overall, the ladies had the advantage, both in numbers and because my dad was cast in the role of authoritarian, the bad guy – a role he filled without apology. While my father was strict and often heavy-handed with discipline, he was no more imposing with his ideologies than the ladies were. So, I got a relatively balanced look at both sides. Neither side was particularly vocal around me with regard to political philosophy, and I only recall a few politically revealing moments during my childhood.
I was about 10 when Nixon resigned, which was disturbing for me, as he had been president ever since we moved to the US. I was aware of McGovern’s bid for the presidency in 1972 and understood that Nixon could be unseated. The Watergate hearings were on TV every afternoon when I got home from school, and I remember having been convinced that Nixon must be a bad man. I even parroted something derogatory about Nixon to a neighbor, who felt it necessary to remind me of some good things Nixon had done. Even so, by the time he resigned, I had come to think Nixon would always be president. During the 1976 general election, I remember my parents arguing over whether they should bother going to the polls, because my mother’s vote for Carter and my father’s vote for Ford would nullify each other. They ultimately did go to the polls.
By the 1980 elections my parents had been divorced for 2 years. My mom and I were on our own in Chapel Hill, NC, not far from my sisters’ homes in the Triangle. I was halfway through high school and struggling to assert my independence. Though, except for occasional visits with my father, that struggle was only with myself. My mom made a deal with me after the divorce. She said that we were both free from my father’s confining grip, and at the age of 14, if I had not already learned the difference between right and wrong, she probably could not do much about it. The deal was simple – don’t screw up, be respectful, maintain her trust in me, and she will have no reason to impose restrictions. She handed me the reins to my own life, along with enough rope to hang myself. But she was always there when I needed her.
That was a pivotal moment in forming my views on self-governance, personal responsibility and accountability. Innocent until proven guilty – What a fresh idea! That was certainly not the premise in my father’s home, where "better safe than sorry" was the order of the day. Even with all of that freedom, it was easier to choose among prevailing preconceived notions than to seek or innovate a third way. I ultimately decided that conservatism, much like my father, was the dark side and jumped on the liberal bandwagon. A public school education did nothing to disavow me of this notion, and reinforced it in both blatant and subtle ways.
But I was mistaken about liberalism, at least as executed by modern democrats. I equated liberalism with the nurturing and empowering attitudes of the women in my family and conservatism with my father’s overbearing ways. This view was particularly easy to justify during the administrations of Reagan, then Bush, the father, much as it is today with Bush, the son. Yes, for a dozen years, it was easy to blame all the ills of the world on the Republicans. If only the Democrats could be put in power, we would all be safe again… and Free. In 1992, this wish came true. For the first time (and perhaps last), my pick for president won. Now everything would be different, I thought. By mid-1993, Clinton had been in office only a few months, and it was already clear that nothing was going to be different, at least not in the ways I hoped.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
During the next couple of years, I was what the Advocates for Self-Government call "politically homeless." As I approached the age of 30, I was finally awake to the realities of politics and government. The democrats were not there to undo anything the republicans had been up to; there is no branch of government dedicated to repealing the meddling of past administrations. The democrats would not loosen the grip of the right hand around our necks. Instead, the left hand would simply tighten its grip. That’s when I came to understand how morally bankrupt our system is. It is an artificially complex version of the same barbarism it claims to be preventing. Might is right – that is the basis for our so called "government of the free."
No, in my mind there was nothing about either major party that represented me in the slightest, especially when it came to the moral basis for their actions. It seemed that there were endless things people should be free to do that are none of the government’s business, and yet are forbidden by one side or the other; that’s all it takes. What happened to "innocent until proven guilty?" Where was my benefit of the doubt? Why is it presumed that I am not to be trusted, and restrictions are necessary? Why must my liberty pay the price for the misdeeds of those who came before me? None of the political powers were building a society like my mother’s open, tolerant and empowering home. The game is rigged to keep us all in my father’s overbearing home, where we are dependent on arbitrary rules instead of our own moral compass, where there is no trust and freedom takes a back seat to "better safe than sorry." I have no interest in a coloring book filled with someone else’s pre-conceived line drawings that I must color-in neatly between the lines. I want a blank pad of paper that does not restrict the amount of creativity, ingenuity and energy I can put into our society.
Then, sometime in 1994 or 1995 I made a wonderful discovery. I was not alone. There were others who felt the way I did. I remember it well. I was at one of the mega-sized flea markets at the fairgrounds in Louisville. A couple was selling very unusual flip-flops that had no thongs or straps and stuck to the soles of your feet like a sticky note. That’s all they were selling – one of those "amazing product" booths. But, in their booth they also had a modest little stack of 3x5" placards, printed with the World's Smallest Political Quiz. That is how I discovered that libertarian views were compatible with mine. For the longest time that was one of very few noteworthy connections I had with libertarians; this was at a time when I was just starting to become Internet savvy, and I did not spend much time surfing for political commentary. I did vote for Harry Browne and others on the Libertarian Party ticket in 1996. It was not until the 2000 presidential campaigns that I started considering the world of libertarian viewpoints in depth.
In the years before then, I continued to refine, primarily through self-reflection, my commitment to advocating a voluntary society. I am not much of a recreational reader, so I was not influenced by writers like Ayn Rand and Robert Heinlein or economists like Friedman and Hayek. I had never even heard of Harry Browne before 1996 and was not aware of other libertarian radio personalities like Neal Boortz and Larry Elder. The closest thing to libertarian influences in my youth included Neal Peart’s lyrics to the songs of the rock band Rush, such as "Free Will," "Tom Sawyer," "Red Barchetta" and many others. The music of Frank Marino & Mahogany Rush (not the same as Rush) is also very important to me. Frank expressed a freedom orientation in many of his songs, particularly in "Try for Freedom" and "Free" (the connection is subtle, isn’t it?). Only during the last few years have I started reading libertarian classics such as Rand’s Anthem, which inspired Peart’s lyrics to Rush’s epic song "2112." It only took me twenty-odd years to get around to it. Just this week I finally read Heinlein’s libertarian classic The Moon Is a Harsh Mistress.
I have come to find that my experience in self-discovery is not typical. The works of popular libertarians are very influential. For decades, Rand’s Atlas Shrugged has been winning converts to Objectivism and libertarianism and still sells by the hundreds of thousands. To me, reading such libertarian works is like finding kindred spirits, rather than being instructive of new ideals. Not surprisingly, I did it the hard way by cutting my own path, but there were benefits. I am less attached to and less likely to refer to the works of others as authoritative. As a result, I hope to hold myself to a higher ideal in making rational arguments and taking principled stands. I hope to add a distinctive perspective to the marketplace of libertarian ideas, revealing and emphasizing what should be self-evident to all, in my own way. Perhaps by recording my philosophy and sharing my story, someone else will find his or her way back to the simple truths of life that we consider essential.
Have a Great New Year!
