Mr. Tripp, retired from the building business, now devotes full time to travel, writing, and promotion of free enterprise.
A human being is an amazing and amusing critter. He is amazing in numberless ways. But the oddity which meets our purpose just now is his ability to like what he gets.
This is not true of all humans, of course. But it is sufficiently true of humans, as a whole, to be set down as a definitely human trait. Shall we prove it?
Millions of people live under conditions which are, on the face of it, abominable. Yet, so well have they become adjusted to these abominations that they like them and stoutly sing their praises to all who will listen.
Los Angeles, with her eye-smarting smog, noise, crime, corruption, congestion, high taxes, and hard water, certainly is not a heaven-on-earth, anymore. Yet Angelenos, most of them, have learned to like these conditions, and are eagerly striving to create more of them. A few folks get disgusted and leave, it’s true. But for everyone who leaves, about two move in. The county is growing at the rate of 700 a day.
So we find the Texan bragging about Texas, for the most part a vast dreary plain, by turns fiercely hot and bitterly cold, and usually dusty. Take the city of Las Vegas, Kalamazoo, Cedar Rapids, Butte — name any town, any place you want. You will find the people panting to prove to you that their village, their county, or neighborhood, is literally the best on earth.
Out here in the West we love our desert, with its terrible heat, paucity of life, its implacable hostility to man and beast. Why do we love it? We have the desert. We can’t get rid of it. I know of no other reason. But the first-time Eastern visitor usually finds in it all that is ugly, monotonous, and unlovely. After a time, when he has “had it” a few years, he, too, loves the desert.
What is true of localities is equally true of other conditions —social, political, economic. For years the American people have been at loss to understand why the Russian slaves have not revolted, cast off their cruel yokes. The only plausible answer is that the Russian people, as a whole, like what they have and are not eager to be free.
Were this not so, surely they could have contrived to find escape, in forty years. Civil disobedience. Sabotage. Malingering. Many ways have been open and are still open. Yes, the Russians must like what they have. At any rate, they like it against a background of anything they ever knew.
The People Approve
We have here at home many conditions that are astonishing to foreigners and a source of anger and disgust to a healthy minority: the arrogance and lawlessness of labor unions, the corruption and inefficiency of many officials, a growing crime element. We could — that is, the majority could —quickly rectify these conditions. Why don’t we? Only one answer makes sense. The people, as a whole, approve of these things. Or, they don’t disapprove enough to right them.
Far from being an evil in itself, this capacity of man to like what he has, or quickly adjust to it, has probably been his salvation. Nature herself is not particularly interested in political or social systems. But she seems intent on trying to make men as happy as circumstances will permit. So she has given him this unique ability to adjust to things, to find delight and satisfaction in some things that are highly disagreeable, per se. Without this priceless gift, most of us would go berserk and blow out our brains.
However, a few individuals can always be found in revolt against the usual, normal order of things, even against nature herself. Something within prevents their liking what is dished out to them by fate. They cannot, or will not, like what they are supposed to like or what the majority likes.
But, far from the misery and frustration we might expect to find in this group, these folks are not miserable, at all. They are free, or, what is almost as good, valiantly striving to make themselves free. Here again the nature of man has come to the rescue with its Law of Compensation. And freedom compensates for much.
Free To Do One’s Best
But what is freedom? Many things, of course, and I shall not be so foolish as to attempt a definition that would please everyone. But one aspect of freedom deserves to be dealt with at some length, for it relates directly to our theme here. Among other things, freedom is the power to remain perpetually in revolt against things abhorrent to the spirit, without going off the trolley.
Thus the man who refuses to compromise with evil and error, refuses to “like what he gets,” and continues to work and hope for what he thinks is best, is free, at least immeasurably freer than the man who surrenders, drifts hopelessly, and permits nature to have her way. His body may be imprisoned, his voice stilled. Even so, he’s still freer than the slave whose mind is chained. Were it possible to measure such things, he’s probably happier, too.
A Minority Position
From the evidence at hand it would seem that freedom of the spirit, the only kind worth bothering about, is for the few, rather than the many. There are several reasons for this. One is that the technique of those who would enslave us is always aimed at masses of people, rather than at the individual. So the individual, if he is fairly agile, escapes the barrage aimed at the flock.
Then, too, freedom demands intelligence and a willingness to put forth effort somewhat above the norm. The free man has no awe at multitudes, and the fact that he is usually in a minority worries him not at all. He looks askance at popular ideas and values. To admit a bitter truth, I’m afraid he’s not very popular. He works and preaches freedom, the better to preserve his own, and because he believes freedom is the right of every man.
While history is full of martyrs to freedom, it is doubtful if martyrdom can greatly aid freedom’s cause today, even if the necessary martyrs could be found. Fortunately, here in America we can still speak, write, preach, and, more important, live the role of free men, without fear of liquidation. That day may come, but it is not yet.
While our free men, by the nature of their philosophy, can never be happy in the sense a protected cow is happy, they know certain deep satisfactions and lofty vistas forever denied the slave. On the whole, this seems vastly preferable to the thin gruel promised by a paternalistic Lord Protector, the State.
Our free man, sage and prophet though he is, is usually a pretty practical fellow, in a discriminating sort of way, not at all adverse to enjoying life. He knows that economic freedom is a distinct aid to all other kinds, including an emancipated spirit.
So, in a surprising number of cases he has taken steps to insure his economic freedom, or is preparing to do so. This may be through building a greater income, becoming less dependent on money, or a combination of both. Having no faith in the power or intent of others to solve his problems, he has learned to depend on himself, and often succeeds.
His wider outlook gives him a sense of patience, tolerance for those who hold mistaken beliefs, though he has no tolerance for the belief itself. Being free, he seeks to enslave no man, and denies that anyone has the power to enslave him. He knows that the tyrant, the dictator, the despot, is more truly enslaved than his victims, in the final accounting of things. He knows, too, that freedom can be forced on no man against his will.
The freedom enjoyed today by a few will someday be shared by many, when the multitude has raised its intelligence a few points. “Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” It will not come by fiat or proclamation. It will come when the “common man,” the “masses” have had a glimpse of better things and demand those things for themselves.
Meanwhile, a man can hold the door open, extend the invitation to all men, everywhere. Come out into the light! Lean no longer on that odd provision of nature which makes bad things tolerable, and finally, desirable. Instead, demand those things which are inherently good and right. Claim the heritage that awaits you, and was yours, from the Beginning.
Ideas On Liberty
To Live Appropriately
Have you not lived? That is not only the fundamental but the most illustrious of your occupations. Have you been able to think out and manage your life? You have performed the greatest work of all.
To compose our character is our duty, not to compose books, and to win, not battles and provinces, but order and tranquility in our conduct.
Our great and glorious masterpiece is to live appropriately. All other things — to rule, to lay up treasure, to build — are at most but little appendices and props.
Montaigne (1533-1592)