I am blessed to be getting new subscribers every day—thank you all!—and the rate of people who join far outpaces those who leave. But occasionally, someone will leave.
I can usually surmise why they go…
There are the people who initially came aboard because of an article or post that reflected my happy hippie side, but then were shocked to discover my political side. Either I am too conservative or too libertarian, or both. Fair enough.
There were a ton of people who came aboard all in a single day, in response to an article that went somewhat viral on Twitter. The article was critical of radical gender ideology, and so it attracted a lot of gender-critical feminists. However, though the madness of trans-radical activism has them questioning leftist orthodoxy (and perhaps leftists’ sanity), most of them probably don’t question leftism on the fundamental philosophical grounds that I do. I understand why that can become off-putting to someone who isn’t quite ready for it.
Then there are the conservatives who aren’t quite ready for the fact that I have begun advocating for the end of involuntary governance. (Shh, don’t use the A-word.) I spent a good chunk of my adult life operating in the mainstream conservative space, so it makes me saddest of all to see them go.
For a host of reasons (at least six of them), anarchism freaks many conservatives out. I have encountered the befuddlement, fear, and anger enough times to have a pretty good handle on why it happens. So there too, I understand.
Yesterday, someone I have known for a very long time unsubscribed. This was not a close friend—just someone who knew me back when I was more of a conventional partisan conservative. I am almost sure it was because of yesterday’s article (the unsubscribe happened five minutes after I posted it). Something in there probably made it clear that I am no longer within the Overton Window of acceptability.
So what was it, exactly?
Was it the title? “The Myth of the ‘Consent of the Governed’” clearly hints at the fact that I might be questioning something pretty fundamental.
In the first paragraph, I criticize the ‘implicit social contract’—which means I am criticizing the very bedrock of not only the American system, but the whole of modern Western civilization.
I then go on to say that the claim that our consent to be governed is “tacit” or “implied” is a philosophical “cheat code” the Founders used to get around the fact that the system they gave us is not actually consensual. If this person even made it to that point, that probably did it. Despite the caveats and disclaimers I offer in the next paragraph (and that I have offered ad infinitum elsewhere), I committed a cardinal sin: I questioned the Founders.
For many, one or another of these things is simply unquestionable.
The Unquestionable Status Quo
Here, critique of the concrete what-is in favor of an abstract what-could-be is simply beyond the pale.
For some, this is an absolute failure of imagination—they are incapable of comprehending, or are unwilling to try to comprehend, anything beyond the what-is.
For others, it is more a matter of practicality, or even outright disdain: What’s the point of focusing beyond the here and now?
The Unquestionable System
This, of course, is a subset of the unquestionable status quo.
For some, the system is all there is and all that can be. What do you mean, there is something wrong with the system? The system is the system.
You are allowed to say that the system needs to be reformed, you see, but you are not allowed to say that the system needs to be replaced. That is outside the Window.
To give this some context, imagine it’s the late 15th century…
You are free to grumble, privately over a mug of ale, about some action of the king or queen. But you do not publicly question the fact that there are kings and queens.
If you do, it won’t just be the king’s soldiers or spies you have to worry about—it will be 95% of your fellow peasants. At any one moment in history, the status quo weights heavily on almost everyone. No monarchy? What are you—a witch or something?
Once upon a time, it was heresy to question monarchy as a system and suggest that there might be something better.
Eventually, everyone came to believe that democracy was better.
Today, it is heresy to question democracy and suggest that there might be something better…
See the pattern?
The Practical
Some have the imagination to see beyond the what-is, and even the philosophical astuteness to recognize the fundamental problems with it. Their concerns are more practical: This is the system we have, they say, and we must work to fix it in the here and now. They don’t want to trade concrete results in the present for the theoretical plans of an uncertain future.
Understandably so.
My wife falls into this category, and I respect it. Indeed, as I have written, I am grateful to all those who are effective at holding the line in the here and now. I just want them to holding the line to give us time to come up with something better…rather than just passing the same task on to our children, and they to theirs, forever and ever.
It is okay to have more than one strategy in operation at any one moment: People working to reform existing systems and people working to come up with new ideas. People putting pressure from within the system, people applying pressure from without, and people opting out entirely.
It does not have to be one or the other, all or nothing. In fact, a multi-front effort is best.
I have pledged myself to the come-up-with-something-new approach. And I am in good company…
The Unquestionable Founders
For some—especially (though not exclusively) conservatives—any questioning of the Founding Fathers is an act of straight-up blasphemy. Here too, I understand…
For one thing, conservatives are used to defending the Founders against attacks from the left. Eventually, that defense becomes a reflex, and for many, that reflex is unlikely to distinguish between an attack from the left and a critique from the anarcho-libertarian right.
Many people may not have seen the numerous caveats I have made surrounding those critiques. The nuances and mitigative language I repeatedly use simply may not register, or may not overcome the reflex. As such, they may not recognize the deeper truth:
I am not trying to undermine the Founders. I am trying to continue their work.
We have two choices:
We can freeze the Founders in amber. We can decide that what they created in the late 18th century was all there can ever be—that it was the pinnacle achievement in the development of human liberty…not just up until that time, but for all time.
OR
We can take what they did and try to build on it—to realize a more perfect version of what they were shooting for.
Think of the kind of men the Founders were. Were they preserve-the-status-quo types? Clearly not. In pursuit of their principles, they sought to replace an existing system.
So how do we revere them by saying that the existing system of today must be preserved simply because it is the existing system?
Given time and context, the Founders did the best they could, and they succeeded brilliantly. Why is it blasphemy to suggest that they did not succeed perfectly? They certainly would not have said their work was perfect. Far from it.
The Founders were trying to restore a system and conception of English liberty from before 1066 and the Norman Yoke. That system was one of the most organic manifestations of natural law ever employed.
Today, we can freeze them, and what they did, in unquestionable amber, or we can take the baton from them and try to carry it further.
A lot of people are taking the latter course…
Creating new concepts for new kinds of polities.
Inspiring new visions of governance.
Building new sub-jurisdictions, like Prospéra and Cuidan Morazan.
Building new kinds of polities.
Living it in places like Cheran, Mexico.
The Founders oversaw humanity’s move from HumanGovernance 1.0 to 2.0. For that, they deserve eternal gratitude.
Now, we have a choice. If you believe in natural law and the cause of human liberty, as the Founding Fathers did, you can…
a) insist that we remain at 2.0 forever, or
b) continue their work and take us to 3.0.
We are just at the beginning of a transformation in human society. Because it is just the beginning, many simply will not see it. Others will dismiss it as idealistic, impractical, or a diversion of effort into a quixotic cause.
That’s okay. We understand. But please understand that we are not going to stop.
I do not think that the Founders would have wanted their progeny to turn them into unquestionable marble statues. I think the Founders would have wanted us to continue their work.
So that is exactly what we are going to do.
I love all you’ve written here. After reading it, I feel more inclined to share with you a thought I’ve held for a long time, as a Canadian observing you Americans down there.
I trust you’ll hear this in the least offensive way possible. 😬
Your “founding fathers” narrative (and the devotees who cling to it without question) has always struck me the same way that religious indoctrination does. It contains the endearing heroic emotional “heartstring pull” required for people with compassion and goodwill to accept it and, for generation after generation, to defend it. Like many religions, it’s possible that the original seeds of intention are sown in fertile soil but over time and exposure to corruption the good intentions are overcome by bad apples. Weird analogy but you get the gist. 😉
At this point in my (un)learning, I’m questioning whether ANY of our current systems were ever constructed with good intentions and good will...from the get-go.
"Now, we have a choice. If you believe in natural law and the cause of human liberty, as the Founding Fathers did, you can…
a) insist that we remain at 2.0 forever, or
b) continue their work and take us to 3.0."
I am going with B, all the way. Awesome image at the end. Is that an AI prompt? I love it. Perfect.