The Freest Man in the World
Freedom is much more than the right to be left alone
I live in Kentucky. That’s only relevant because it means I have to listen to Senator Rand Paul more than any human really should. Paul is a libertarian, a self-described advocate for liberty and freedom, which for him means that no one can tell him what to do.
If that’s the definition of freedom, then the freest person in the world is the homeless guy living under a bridge. No job, no family, no home, no responsibilities, no ties that bind, free to do whatever he chooses, go where he wants, be whatever he wants.
But when we think of that homeless guy, when we see him panhandling at an intersection or pushing a shopping cart full of his worldly possessions, do we envy his freedom?
No one is freer than a person without a home, without a family, without a job.
If freedom is the ability to go anywhere on a whim, then the man without a home has nearly total freedom. The person without a home doesn’t have to worry about rent or mortgage. He’s unconcerned with taxes, upkeep, or maintenance. His weekends are never filled with lawns to mow, leaves to rake, snow to shovel. He can walk away whenever he wants.
But we define ourselves, to a large degree, by where we live: our state or county, our city or town, even by our neighborhood. A home is more (much more) than simply a place to live. A home is our stake in society.
If freedom is the lack of bonds, then the man with no family is the freest man of all. The person without a family is unconstrained by familial responsibilities, his evenings unburdened by family meals, his weekends free of family visits and the drama that often entails. The man without a family is never hectored or henpecked; he has no reason to stay, and no one stopping him from going.
But family is not just constraint: Family is a source of comfort and connection and solace. Most of us gladly trade a bit of our freedom for that. Most of us imagine ourselves adrift without those bonds.
If freedom is the lack of external constraint, then the person without a job is freer — far freer — than the person with a job. The person without a job never has to worry about getting to the office on time, or a boss telling him what to do, doesn’t have his days and hours predetermined for him. When the man with no job wakes in the morning, the day is his and his alone.
But a job is not merely a burden. A job gives us a sense of accomplishment, a feeling of belonging, and a feeling that we’re contributing to society. It also provides us with the money, which is the wherewithal to do things. The man with no job may, in theory, be able to go anywhere and do anything, but without money his ability to do those things is seriously limited. He is free in theory, but lacks freedom in reality.
The political philosopher Isaiah Berlin said that there are two kinds of freedom: freedom “from” and freedom “to do” — freedom from external constraint and freedom to do what one wishes. The man under the bridge is brimming with freedom from external constraints, but completely lacks the freedom to do what he wants.
The reality is that we don’t envy the homeless guy living under a bridge. We pity him. Few people seeing the homeless comment on their freedom. In fact, those who are the most likely to talk about freedom — conservative politicians like Rand Paul — are also the most likely to denigrate the homeless. Words like “bum” or “moocher” flow easily from their lips.
The reality is that we judge people by their stake in society. We judge people by their willingness to trade some of their freedom for responsibilities and social connections. We praise people for a job well done, we congratulate them on their successful children, and in some neighborhoods we give them awards for their well-manicured lawns.
Responsibility, not freedom, is the foundation of society. We praise freedom in the abstract, but when push comes to shove, what we value most is a willingness to give up some of that individual freedom for benefit of society. Rand Paul may not like it, but its true.
