Tim Walz, the governor of Minnesota recently tapped to be the Democratic nominee for Vice President, has been drawing his fair share of mockery for saying that “one person’s socialism is another person’s neighborliness.” There’s an obvious sense in which this is a ludicrous statement. People associate neighborliness with being friendly, helpful, and part of a community of people who support one another in times of need. People who argue in favor of socialism tend to represent their positions the same way, while leaving out one crucial caveat. The so-called neighborliness of socialism is always enforced at the barrel of a gun. There’s no room for that grouchy shut-in who refuses to participate in the neighborhood bake sale. Under socialism, he will be made to participate whether he likes it or not. There’s something decidedly unfriendly about using threats of violence to coerce others into behaving as you wish them to, but that’s exactly what socialism does, as is plainly evident to anyone who bothers to look outside our own borders to see what is happening in places like Venezuela, Cuba, and China. Neighborliness is voluntary. Socialism is force.
Yet, there is a sense in which Walz’s comment is not entirely offbase. There’s a difference between how we would like our neighbors to behave and how they actually behave. Maybe it’s not the word “socialism” that we’re misunderstanding, but rather the word “neighborliness.” Anyone who has ever lived in the suburbs and used the Nextdoor app to converse with their neighbors is likely to have picked up on the fact that, while some of them are indeed good and decent folks, many are petty, vindictive, spiteful busybodies and would-be tyrants just waiting for an opportunity to impose their wills on others. Woe to anyone who parks an unfamiliar car in front of their house, forgets to remove their trashcans from the curb for a day or two, who doesn’t cut their grass often enough or, God forbid, who wants to make modifications to their own home. The lidless eyes of the neighborhood guardians will swiftly detect any such actions, leading to an unceasing and escalating series of complaints and threats to call the authorities. The fact that Walz set up a hotline in order for residents to report lockdown violations during the pandemic seems to indicate that he expects neighbors to rat out and betray one another, which says something about his understanding of the term “neighborliness.” Alas, based on the experiences of the last few years, it’s clear that these expectations were not ill-founded.
The entire struggle of politics can be boiled down to efforts by some groups of people to dominate and control others. The question I have is, where does this desire for domination come from in the first place? Despite seeming near universal, it’s an urge I have never possessed. For the most part, I care very little what my neighbors do and want nothing more than to leave them alone, as long as they are decent enough to return the favor. If the lust for power is simply a part of human nature, then perhaps I’m missing something whose absence makes me somewhat less than human. Mercifully for my own self-image, however, I don’t think that’s what’s going on. I suspect the yearning for power over others comes not from our fundamental natures, but as a response to a feeling of helplessness.
For many people, the experience of self-determination is an alien one. They are raised by autocratic parents who push them around, tell them what to do, and disregard their wants and fears. Then, they are sent to schools where their time is strictly scheduled, where teachers demand absolute obedience, and where bullies and social cliques torment them between classes. Then they get jobs and bosses who demand they punch a clock and follow orders, until they are too tired to do anything they actually want to do. It is not surprising that people in these situations might indulge in private fantasies of payback. “If I were in charge,” they think bitterly to themselves over a too-short lunch break, “things would be different. Then they’d be sorry!” Or, to quote the slow-witted and downtrodden accountant Kevin from The Office, “When me president, they see. They see.”
We’ve all seen meter maids smirking as they ruin someone’s day with a parking ticket, or desk jockeys taking smug satisfaction in being part of an obstructive bureaucracy. This is because for these people, making a stranger wait in line for an extra hour or fill out a pointless stack of paperwork is their only way of feeling in control of their little worlds.
I was raised by parents who viewed me as a person to be respected, not as a tiny servant or nuisance. Rather than being sent to public school, I was educated at home, largely being allowed to direct the course of my own studies. And while not all of my early jobs were a barrel of laughs, I took pride in even the most menial work. Most importantly, I never felt that my life was out of my control. This was not due to having it easy or achieving effortless success, but due to having been given a certain degree of autonomy early in life, as well as having a strong support network. After a particularly disheartening year of constant failure in New York City, my family encouraged me to change tack and try something different. Being proactive in changing my situation ultimately led to my current career, with which I couldn’t be happier.
In short, I think the reason I don’t have any wish to control others is that I’ve never felt like others are controlling me.
People who are kicked around by the world want to kick others around, a sad irony that only perpetuates the problem. The more we as a society indulge these power fantasies, the more we will create powerless and resentful people, who will then spend their lives yearning for revenge, be it as small as calling up Tim Walz to report an unauthorized barbecue.
The good news is that, for every vicious cycle, there’s usually a virtuous cycle hiding just on the other side. If making people feel powerless creates the craving for power, then making people feel independent creates the desire for independence. Instead of arguing back and forth about who gets to boss whom around, we should be focused on building a society that allows people to take charge of their own destinies. We should be raising children who, instead of being bludgeoned by standardized tests and forced to sit quietly for hours a day in the classroom, are allowed to pursue their own interests, build things, be creative, and organize their own time. Instead of subjecting adults to a web of red tape and bureaucracy every time they want to do anything, we should get out of the way and let them try, even if trying means the possibility of failure.
I know socialists claim this is what they want too, imagining a life free from financial pressures where everyone is an artist or a poet, but this is a delusion. When government pays the piper, government calls the tune, and a state that can pay your bills can also dictate your lifestyle. After all, someone still has to work on farms and in mines and sheet metal factories. Why do you imagine that you’ll get to sit around writing poetry when the Party demands more girders? And if you don’t believe me, there’s plenty of historical (and contemporary) examples to look at that cast doubt on the possibility of a communal artists’ paradise funded by everyone else.
Strong people make good times, where strength here refers not to the ability to beat up on others, but to the mental and emotional fortitude to resist hopelessness. The strong person is master, not of others, but of himself and his circumstances. The strong do not exploit the weak; they have no need to exploit anybody. Self-determination is not a zero-sum game. If we wish to escape the downward spiral of envy and tyranny, we must empower individuals to live as they choose, not at anyone’s else’s command, nor for anyone else’s sake. Fiat libertas.
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