Thoughts on freedom, programming and other type stuffs.

On Integrity

Here in libertarian-land, the district sleeps alone tonight.Giving up is easy.

One day, you stop writing.  You figure, hell, nobody reads this thing anyway. Nobody seems to see the problem with authoritarianism, as long as it’s their pet issue. Nobody not nobody cares a lick about the 4th Amendment. The easiest thing to do is stop writing, stop trying, stop caring.

The easiest thing to surrender is your integrity.

Over on the About page, I make a point of writing that my libertarianism didn’t start with Ayn Rand. I meant it — I arrived at libertarianism through sheer reason (tales of which are all over the archives here). Ascribing my transformation from state-worshiping conservative to state-hating libertarian to the philosophy of objectivism seemed like it cheapened the whole thing.

But I’ll say this: Rand has her place.

I just finished reading The Fountainhead, which is not the best book ever written. The rapeyness is weird and the penultimate courtroom speech is…well, it’s boring and hollow. But The Fountainhead joins Anagrams and The Moon Is A Harsh Mistress and One Hundred Years of Solitude and The New York Trilogy as the best-timed books ever.

Anagrams warmed my heart in a time of loneliness. Moon set my mind on fire dreaming of a better world. Solitude and New York taught me to think of narrative in whole new ways.

And The Fountainhead helped me rediscover integrity.

The story is unimportant to this post; what’s important is the idea of Dominique Francon. When faced with a world in which creativity and ambition and freedom were no longer celebrated — crushed, even– she gave completely over. If the world couldn’t accept life and liberty and property, she would go limp and let the current take her.

And faced with that choice — between having integrity and giving in — well, here I am.

Nothing has changed. America’s false dichotomy is between a terrible President and a man clinically designed to make a terrible President. Still nobody loves the 4th Amendment. Everyone is still clearly retarded, if Facebook on 9/11 is any indication.

But you know what? Screw it.

Liberty is too important. The 4th Amendment is too important. Wading through the slough of mediocrity is too important.

If you don’t, you’re just there, stuck in the slough of mediocrity with the people that don’t edit videos before they post them to Facebook…with the people who think that Mitt Romney is a good choice or that Barack Obama in any way deserves to be reelected…with the people who think that it’s totally Constitutional to drug test all welfare recipients…with the people who think so highly of abject authoritarianism and so little of their fellow humans that they vote Green Party.

To use the parlance of our times, I can’t abide by these things.

So consider this your warning message, world. The rust is hereby shaken off, and I’m reading freaking Albert J. Nock, people.

Things are about to get awesome.

The Fourth Amendment Loves You Anyway

...unless you're not doing anything wrong.One month and 40 pages of Master’s capstone later, here’s what I know: the Fourth Amendment is a tricky thing.

I’ve spent the last month exploring Katz and Olmstead and Miller and nearly every other aspect of the Fourth Amendment’s intersection with online data.  I’ve explored how and where your data is protected from unreasonable searches and seizures, seen the lines that the government can cross (see the current Jones case for a prime example), and yet, at the end of the day, the only reaction I can get from anybody is…

So?

In the last two weeks, I’ve had no fewer than four people tell me, in some form or another, “if you’re not doing anything wrong, you have nothing to worry about.”

Just yesterday, I had a protracted INTERNET ARGUMENT with people who could not put it between their ears that forcing all welfare recipients to take a drug test was a massive violation of the Fourth Amendment.

It’s a fascinating thing, the Fourth Amendment, protecting us regular citizens from unwarranted suspicion, from intrusions on our privacy, from unreasonable searches and seizures.  But we’re willing to throw it away because “we’re not doing anything wrong.”

But here’s the thing: no.

You don’t have to look any further than the Transportation and Safety Administration for that argument to fall apart.  After all, regular folks who did nothing guiltier than book a flight are subjected to unreasonable searches every day.

The thing is, the law changes.  What raises no suspicion today is illegal tomorrow.  When we stop caring where unreasonable searches and seizures start and stop, we hand over our ability as citizens to be free from suspicion.

More succinctly: me today, you tomorrow.

Freedom as a whole is a tricky thing.  It means the freedom to let people do whatever they want, whether you approve or not.  It means the freedom to live in peace.  It means the freedom to pursue your own life, liberty and property in the way you want.

I guess that’s my point: freedom is hard.  It doesn’t always make sense.  But the alternative is constant suspicion, constant surveillance.  I choose that hard path.  And I’m thankful our founders did, too.

They Have Their Exits and Entrances

The discussion boards I’ve had to use throughout my Master’s program have been endlessly fascinating.  They’re almost always apolitical — after all, colliding the worlds of Oracle SQL or Microsoft SQL server and political theory isn’t particularly easy — with rare exceptions.

In my Application Security class, this week’s discussion is about the “scourge” of bad software coming from overseas and what might be done about it. The contention being that without intervention, bad software might flood our markets, causing, in the words of a classmate, “small irritations that on my iTouch, the cover of the audible book does not match the actual book to a Toyota software bug that causes my Prius brakes to fail.”

She goes on to say:

Software applications control my diabetic son’s insulin pump that he needs to stay not only alive but healthy so that he can go to college next month. Software applications control my banking which wouldn’t make anyone very rich but would devastate us if our money was stolen. Software applications run the ticket distribution of the World Series, Super Bowl, World Cup  and cause riots when the systems fail.

The point my classmate made was ultimately that she “believe[s] strongly that the ‘bad’ practices and software applications need fixing!”

Now I’ll grant you, it wouldn’t be fair of me to infer that my classmate was demanding government intervention.  She didn’t finish her post by demanding that the government pass a bill that specifically sets standards for application security.  And as such, I think my biggest beef is the prompt, the notion that there are things in this world that demand something be done.

Whether you’re talking application security or national security, doing “something” because people demand it is security theater, the fever-delusion of believing that running around looking busy makes people safer in anything other than name.

All of which is to bring you this heartbreaking and terrible reminder of just what security theater actually means:

If we cannot prevent an event like Utøya, the worst killing spree ever in world history and the worst terrorist act in entire Europe in two decades, by any means conceivable — why are we playing this security theater and giving up hard-won civil liberties one after another?

The only thing that would have caught Breivik would have been frequent police raids turning his farm inside out, leaving no room to hide his experiments in chemistry. Turning all industries and homes inside out with sharp regularity might have prevented this. Even still, a person as determined as Breivik would likely have been able to blend in even under such circumstances.

Benjamin Franklin famously said, that “a people who gives up its freedom to gain a little security will lose both and deserve neither”. But now that it has been shown in the most gruesome, in-your-face way that we don’t even gain a little security by giving up these freedoms, then why are we doing so?

At its most benign, “security theater” means expensive, incomplete security which leaves all parties exposed without knowing it.  When government takes up the yoke of security theater, that expensive, incomplete mess comes with the additional price of rending our civil liberties asunder.

No matter its intentions or its well-meaning missions, government cannot hide us from the creeping specter of death.  We are never terribly long for this earth, no matter how many civil liberties we sacrifice.  People will always aim to maim and terrify and torture and hurt and, really, that leaves us with a tremendous choice: we can choose to accept the gifts of life and liberty and the ability to pursue what makes us happy and embrace those gifts to the fullest…or we can hand them away in hopes that we can delay the unavoidable end for a moment longer.

The Snorting Warthog of Intemperance in the Other Room

We have a houseguest.

My wife’s friend is visiting for an overly-long five days this week, and I’d be done with the whole matter — upstairs reading my Kindle in peace — but that this particular houseguest is giving me an increasingly rare chance to observe wildly retarded politics in action.

For anonymity’s sake, I will call our houseguest “Thor.”

And for clarity’s sake, it should be said right up front that Thor is a gay man.  They are old college friends, and it’s our turn to put him up for — and I’ll reiterate this — an overly long five days.

Thor is periodically yelling at his computer from the other room, trying in vain to sucker my wife into a two-man political rally in favor of the Democratic Party.  My wife, though I can’t see her, is probably nervously laughing, changing the subject, staring blankly into the television, because (and here’s the crux of this whole post) we don’t see wildly retarded politics in action very often any more.

There was a moment in college when I got angry at a very good friend during a political argument and threw a copy of John Locke’s Second Treatise on Government at him.  It hit him in the chest and we stared dumbly at each other before he — in the role of “better man” he’s so often played in our friendship — walked away.

My attraction to politics flipped polarity that night.  My empire of dirt — political columnist, editor of a small start-up magazine, growing power in the College Republicans — began to crumble away.

“Friendships trump politics” was the lesson I took away that night.  “Everything trumps politics” was the bigger lesson.

I’ve been reading The Declaration of Independents by Matt Welch and Nick Gillespie for the past few nights, and I think that’s the conclusion they’re building to.  It’s not that freedom doesn’t matter.  Liberty matters intensely.  It’s that tribal loyalty brings out the very worst in us, causes us to disavow friends, fractures our relationships.  And in the case of Thor, it hangs a pea soup-thick cloud over our judgment.

Thor’s loud pledge of allegiance to the Democratic Party is a sad reminder of the price of politics.  He has convinced himself that his team is better at providing civil liberties, that it can provide a clear path to a balanced budget; he has convinced himself that the other team is the source of all budget woes, that it is actively seeking to trample his civil liberties (though of course this last part is true).  He is literally unable to comprehend life outside of the binary, and it is periodically turning him into a snorting warthog of intemperance in the other room.

Politics is a sorry thing.  It’s the process of using force to uphold your causes that a massive amount of people — given their druthers — would never want for themselves.  It is a thing of coercion, of rage, of force and hate and the belief that you — you — know better than other people what they should or should not be doing.

When that book sank sadly to the floor that night, my political life was over.  My friend — always the better man — forgave me.  He later asked me to be the best man at his wedding, and at the reception dinner, I explicitly avoided telling the story about my John Locke-related childishness, bygones being better off buried.

I guess that’s the point of this post: politics may make for good allegiances, and it may make for a cathartic moment every other November, but it doesn’t make us one iota more free, and it sure as hell doesn’t make for good friendships.

Unclear on the Concept

Why stop at the just destroying the 4th Amendment, Indiana? Couldn’t find a way to justify quartering troops, too?

The Indiana Supreme Court has ruled that people cannot keep police from entering their homes, even if the entry is “unlawful.”

In a 3-2 decision, the court held there are valid reasons for police officers to enter homes without a warrant and without knocking , including concerns for an officer’s safety or that a suspect may escape or that evidence may be destroyed.

“We believe. . .a right to resist an unlawful police entry into a home is against public policy and is incompatible with modern Fourth Amendment jurisprudence,” wrote Justice Steven David. “We also find that allowing resistance unnecessarily escalates the level of violence and therefore the risk of injuries to all parties involved without preventing the arrest.”

And to think: I thought Yevgeny Zamyatin’s We was a dystopian warning, not a guide book.

Tyranny Sincerely Exercised

Resistance is futile.In a single excerpt from a single essay, I’m pretty sure I can recap the several years of deep reflection that took me from conservative Republican to anarcho-capitalist libertarian.

If society can mend, remake, and unmake men at its pleasure, its pleasure may, of course, be humane or homicidal. The difference is important. But, either way, rulers have become owners. Observe how the ‘humane’ attitude to crime could operate. If crimes are diseases, why should diseases be treated differently from crimes? And who but the experts can define disease? One school of psychology regards my religion as a neurosis. If this neurosis ever becomes inconvenient to Government, what is to prevent my being subjected to a compulsory ‘cure’? It may be painful; treatments sometimes are. But it will be no use asking, ‘What have I done to deserve this?’ The Straightener will reply: ‘But, my dear fellow, no one’s blaming you. We no longer believe in retributive justice. We’re healing you.’

This would be no more than an extreme application of the political philosophy implicit in most modern communities. It has stolen on us unawares. Two wars necessitated vast curtailments of liberty, and we have grown, though grumblingly, accustomed to our chains. The increasing complexity and precariousness of our economic life have forced Government to take over many spheres of activity once left to choice or chance. Our intellectuals have surrendered first to the slave-philosophy of Hegel, then to Marx, finally to the linguistic analysts.

As a result, classical political theory, with its Stoical, Christian, and juristic key-conceptions (natural law, the value of the individual, the rights of man), has died. The modern State exists not to protect our rights but to do us good or make us good — anyway, to do something to us or to make us something. Hence the new name ‘leaders’ for those who were once ‘rulers’. We are less their subjects than their wards, pupils, or domestic animals. There is nothing left of which we can say to them, ‘Mind your own business.’ Our whole lives are their business.

C. S. Lewis
Willing Slaves of the Welfare State

(Whole essay, very much worth reading, is here.)

My conversion went like this:

  • I’m fighting for the government to control how people act.
  • The people I support won’t always be in control.
  • If the government has the power to control how people act and I don’t agree with the people in charge, I’m at risk to have myself and my behavior controlled in exactly the same way I’m advocating.
  • The only way to avoid tyranny is to take away the power to control behavior from the state.

In other words, I’m not a libertarian because I hope for libertine squalor or because I hope to hasten the moral decay of society (whatever that means). I’m a libertarian (and border on anarcho-capitalist) because I dread tyranny.

And lest there be any misunderstanding, just because you agree with the outcome doesn’t make your particular brand of government-run behavioral control any less tyrannical:

Of all tyrannies a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victim may be the most oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron’s cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated, but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.

C. S. Lewis
God in the Dock

Listen, people: you can’t pass laws that make people better or fix society’s ills. All you can do is make everyone less free in the process. Make no mistake: government-run healthcare is a tyranny no less sincerely executed for the good of its victim than the moral do-gooding of the religious right. In the end, we’re left only with less freedom and heavier chains.

I wish I could shout this from the rooftops.

In Which I Ease Back Into Posting By Breaking Out Rothbard and Discussing Free Will

Free Will(y)

Myth #5: Libertarians are utopians who believe that all people are good, and that therefore State control is not necessary. Conservatives tend to add that since human nature is either partially or wholly evil, strong State regulation is therefore necessary for society.

Rothbard’s Six Myths About Libertarianism.

I don’t know if everyone’s path towards libertarianism comes to the the fork in the road called free will, but mine certainly did.

Free will, for all intents and purposes, is a terrifying thing, and I suppose that’s why we ask the State to take it away from other people.  Free will means other people don’t always behave the way you want, it means they can do things which you consider morally reprehensible.  Enter the State: if my neighbor won’t make choices that I see as good for him, I can make the State mandate those choices for him.  One way or another, I can make my fellow man live rightly.

But somewhere along the way, I came to the epiphanic conclusion that asking the State not to play moral arbiter is not the same as complicity.  More than that, State-mandated morality doesn’t remove from us the weighty responsibility attached to having free will.  It does, however, hand back to the State bit by bit the freedom we wrested from it.

What really got to me in the end, though, was the power we were handing the government.  ”Control their lives,” may have been the goal, but implicit in that was “and not ours, please.”

As Rothbard puts it:

The State is the only social institution which is able to extract its income and wealth by coercion; all others must obtain revenue either by selling a product or service to customers or by receiving voluntary gifts. And the State is the only institution which can use the revenue from this organized theft to presume to control and regulate people’s lives and property. Hence, the institution of the State establishes a socially legitimatized and sanctified channel for bad people to do bad things, to commit regularized theft and to wield dictatorial power.

Handing the State control to regulate behavior you don’t like is a a disaster-in-waiting; when people you don’t like assume control of the machine you’ve built, the State already has the authority to regulate your life according to the whims of others.

Rothbard goes on to quote Hayek:

“The main merit of individualism [which Adam Smith and his contemporaries advocated] is that it is a system under which bad men can do least harm. It is a social system which does not depend for its functioning on our finding good men for running it, or on all men becoming better than they now are, but which makes use of men in all their given variety and complexity….”

And there it is: once you’ve handed the State the power to regulate lives, you have to hope the “wrong people” never come into power.  Fingers crossed, huh?

Nyet, tovarishchee

All things Gael Greene considered, this quote seemed apropos:

Thing that got me was not her list of things she hated, since she was obviously crazy as a Cyborg, but fact that always somebody agreed with her prohibitions. Must be a yearning deep in human heart to stop other people from doing as they please. Rules, laws– always for other fellow. A murky part of us, something we had before we came down out of trees, and failed to shuck when we stood up. Because not one of those people said: “Please pass this so that I won’t be able to do something I know I should stop.” Nyet, tovarishchee, was always something they hated to see neighbors doing. Stop them “for their own good”–not because speaker claimed to be harmed by it.

-Robert Heinlein, The Moon is a Harsh Mistress

On Critics

If there’s a better explanation of the symbiotic relationship between artist and critic than the one provided by Ratatouille, I don’t know about it.  The critic may not create, but their job is essential: they help us separate excellence from the mundane.  I will gladly spend the big money it takes to eat at a fine restaurant, but I do so with much less reservation when a critic has been there, experienced it, and declared it on par with the best.

In that role, in helping me to make better decisions by providing information I wouldn’t otherwise have, critics are indispensable.

Which is what makes Gael Greene such a frustrating case.  Earlier this week, she tweeted:

Jane Brody weighs in on soda tax.http://nyti.ms/9jwCB0 I’m withyou Jane. Let’s tax those sugary soft drinks & save people from themselves.#fb

“Save people from themselves.” At first, I thought I’d be writing this post about hypocrisy.  After all, New York City is considering an epically stupid salt ban.  Surely, I thought, if I go back far enough in her tweets, she’ll be railing against this nonsense…salt is essential for food to taste good and keep us alive (the essay on salt in here says things better than I ever could).  I was wrong.  An example:

Don’t we all know what foie gras is? a diseased liver, total fat, occasionally delicious. We can make the choice. Not w/salt#fb

And another:

NYC campaigns against excess salt. Very Don Quixote but, I’m all for it. It wouldn’t hurt to rachet down our taste for salt.

And a trend emerges: we can’t make the good decisions Gael wants us to make, so she’s trying to make them for us.

A critic is someone who ventures out and tells what they think tastes good..someone who provides adults with the information they need to make an informed decision.  Someone who tells us what we should eat, what will keep us healthy, and how to save us from ourselves?  My mom handled that when I was a kid.

The real kicker in all of this? None of Gael Greene’s nannying is actually affecting any change. Turns out people continue to eat and drink what makes them happy and what tastes good.  Shocking.

Evidently, God Hates Consistency, too.

I checked — there’s no Facebook group called “I dislike the Westboro Baptist Church but support their right to free speech anyway.”  Lesson learned: free speech is great when you’re speaking out against a group you don’t like, but not okay when another group is speaking out against a group they don’t like.

There’s nothing to like about Fred Phelps and his absurdly hateful family.  I’ll agree with you there, Facebook friends joining groups in opposition to the Westboro Baptist Church: they’re un-Christ-like in as thoroughly and definable way as is possible.

But it’s monumentally short-sighted to want to take away their right to free speech, Congress being unable to make any law to that effect and all.  Iron Law #5: you aren’t free unless you’re free to be wrong.

There’s a reason the framers opted for negative liberties instead of positive ones.  No rules against free speech.  No laws against freedom of religion.  No infringing right to bear arms.  These things allow for the pursuit of whatever makes you happy: speak or shut up, choose a religion or none at all, get a gun or stay away.

Positive rights inherently trample on someone else’s.  A right to health insurance, a right to food or shelter, a right to broadband all come at the expense of someone else’s liberty (namely their right to pursue property); and a right to not be offended comes at the expense of another person’s free speech.

At the end of the day, we are still collectively stronger than words, aren’t we?  Or have we rearranged that phrase?

One of those William Chase Johnson blogs.