Liberty, Dicta & Force: Why Liberty Brings Out the Best in People and How Government Brings Out the Worst

Chapter 10: A Better Life — A Better World

What is important in life is life, and not the result of life. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832)

Be yourself; everyone else is already taken! — Oscar Wilde (1854–1900)

To speak seriously: the standards of “goodness” which are generally recognised by public opinion are not those which are calculated to make the world a happier place. This is due to a variety of causes, of which the chief is tradition, and the next most powerful is the unjust power of dominant classes. We need a morality based upon love of life, upon pleasure in growth and positive achievement, not upon repression and prohibition. A man should be regarded as “good” if he is happy, expansive, generous and glad when others are happy; if so, a few peccadilloes should be regarded as of little importance. ... Reason may be a small force, but it is constant, and works always in one direction, while the forces of unreason destroy one another in futile strife. Therefore, every orgy of unreason in the end strengthens the friends of reason, and shows afresh that they are the only true friends of humanity.1 — Bertrand Russell (1872–1970)

We have an inherent sense of deeds and duties — that is, an underlying obligation to do good. At just about every graduation ceremony I’ve attended (and probably mine as well, but that was too long ago to recall), the graduates are told to go out and change the world to make it a better place. Edmund Burke’s statement (albeit apocryphal) warns us that “all that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” Such statements are rallying calls to action, and to snub your nose at such a call is seen by many as antisocial or, worse, an endorsement of evil.

So you leave high school or college and go out into the world — that “real” world you are told to change — and ask yourself, “What do I actually do?” If you are going to change the world for the better, you must identify what is bad and make it good and find what is good and make it better. You look around and conclude that war, poverty, theft, and cheating are bad and without them the world would certainly be a better place. Where do you start, and again, what do you actually do? You reason that the first thing you can do about war is not to be in one. You certainly wouldn’t consider joining the military. The first thing you can do about poverty is to work, avoid being poor, and possibly start a business to help others avoid being poor. The first thing you can do about theft and cheating is to refrain from stealing, keep your word, and meet your obligations. After you’ve accomplished all these “first things,” you are somewhat pleased but not completely satisfied, and so you ask yourself, “Now what? That was too simple. There must be more I can and should do to make the world a better place.”

Eventually, you conclude that if everyone simply did the things you did and found to be so straightforward, the world would certainly be a far better place. You are so excited that you are itching to spread the word and get others excited about how they too can make the world a better place. Your recipe is clear and simple. You begin to proselytize. You talk and teach, and you attract a growing number of kindred followers. But the process is far too slow and life is too short. You are frustrated by the meager impact you’re having on the world. You see others gaining notoriety, getting their ideas debated and laws passed. You know your ideas about how to make the world a better place are far better. In fact, you’re not too keen on most of the other ways being proposed, and you’re convinced some of them will even make the world worse. Yet no one is talking about you and your ideas except your friends, who like your ideas so much they encourage you to get into politics, where you can do more good by enacting your ideas into law.

What I’ve tried to capture here very loosely stems from the life of my dear friend Harry Browne, who authored several books, my favorite being How I Found Freedom in an Unfree World. Harry, who despised the state, was a great inspiration. Later in life, however, he became so disheartened about the direction the country was taking that he succumbed to the temptation of trying to fix it by getting into politics. I remember the day he called to tell me he had decided to run for president as the Libertarian Party candidate in the 1996 election.

“Why?” I asked with absolute shock and disappointment.

He responded, “The country is going to hell, and I can’t take it any longer.”

The sadness in his voice left me speechless and unwilling to try to convince him otherwise. He won the nomination and garnered the number of votes typical for a Libertarian candidate. Yes, the political stage is a difficult arena to avoid. I met and spoke with Harry several times during his campaign but never had the gumption to question his decision again. He died in 2006 and left me with the memorable lesson that those who want to do good are not always satisfied with just living their lives and minding their own business. I cannot question one’s urge to get into politics to do good; I can only question how it is ever possible to do good by way of politics.

Many have been conditioned to believe that not participating in the political process is shameful and unpatriotic, especially when it comes to war. Political charlatans instill guilt in those unwilling to kill as a patriotic duty. State advertisements entice impressionable young men to fight wars by portraying military life as glorious and honorable. But the state would not dare show the sequel: a scene where you are blowing the head off a young man from a distant land or worse, getting your own head blown off. How sad to see a mother at a military burial service for her son receiving a folded flag as a badge of honor. No patriotic pride or honor in a mother’s heart will overcome that sorrow.

Some may scorn the passive behavior of those who simply mind their own business as cowardly. Such passivity, however, does not mean they are wallflowers, since there’s a great difference between pushing people away and pushing them around. Maybe the foremost way to make the world better is simply this: don’t go to war, don’t be on the dole, don’t endorse politics, do good work, and mind your own business. This simple path to a better world may not be newsworthy or codified in history books, but it will give you the pleasure of living your life your way, knowing you didn’t get in the way of others trying to do the same.

  • 1Bertrand Russell, “The Harm That Good Men Do,” 1926, http://russell-j.com/0393HGMD.HTM.