Violence is the tool of the state. Knowledge and the mind are the tools of free people.
by Llewellyn H. Rockwell Jr.
As libertarians attempt to persuade others
of their position, they encounter an interesting paradox. On the one hand, the
libertarian message is simple. It involves moral premises and intuitions that
in principle are shared by virtually everyone, including children. Do not hurt
anyone. Do not steal from anyone. Mind your own business.
A child
will say, “I had it first.” There is an intuitive sense according to which the
first user of a previously unowned good holds moral priority over latecomers.
This, too, is a central aspect of libertarian theory.
Following
Locke, Murray Rothbard, and other libertarian philosophers sought to establish
a morally and philosophically defensible account of how property comes to be
owned. Locke held the goods of the earth to have been owned in common at the
beginning, while Rothbard more plausibly held all goods to have been initially
unowned, but this difference does not affect their analysis. Locke is looking
to justify how someone may remove a good from common ownership for his
individual use, and Rothbard is interested in how someone may take an unowned
good and claim it for his individual use.
Locke’s
answer will be familiar. He noted, first of all, that “every man has a property
in his own person.” By extension, everyone justly holds as his own property
those goods with which he has mixed his labor. Cultivating land, picking an
apple — whatever the case may be, we say that the first person to homestead
property that had previously sat in the state of nature without an individual
owner could call himself its owner.
Once a
good that was previously in the state of nature has been homesteaded, its owner
need not continue to work on or transform it in order to maintain his ownership
title. Once the initial homesteading process has taken place, future owners can
acquire the property not by mixing their labor with it — which at this point
would be trespassing — but by purchasing it or receiving it as a gift from the
legitimate owner.
As I’ve
said, we sense intuitively the justice at the heart of this rule. If the
individual does not own himself, then what other human being does? If the individual
who transforms some good that previously lacked specific ownership title does
not have a right to that good, then what other person should?
In
addition to being just, this rule also minimizes conflict. It is a rule
everyone can understand, based on a principle that applies to all people
equally. It does not say that only members of a particular race or level of
intelligence may own property. And it is a rule that definitively stakes out
ownership claims in ways that anyone can grasp, and which will keep disputes to
a minimum.
Alternatives
to this first user, first homesteader principle are few and unhelpful. If not
the first user, then who? The fourth user? The twelfth user? But if only the
fourth or twelfth user is the rightful owner, then only the fourth or twelfth
user has the right to do anything with the good. That is what ownership is: the
ability to dispose of a good however one wishes, provided that in doing so the
owner does not harm anyone else. Assigning property title through a method like
verbal declaration, say, would do nothing to minimize conflict; people would
shout vainly at each other, each claiming ownership of the good in question,
and peaceful resolution of the resulting conflict seems impossible.
These
principles are easy to grasp, and as I’ve said, they involve moral insights
which practically everyone claims to share.
And
here is the libertarian paradox. Libertarians begin with these basic, commonly
shared principles, and seek only to apply them consistently and equally to all
people. But even though people claim to support these principles, and even
though most people claim to believe in equality — which is what the libertarian
is upholding by applying moral principles to everyone without exception — the
libertarian message suddenly becomes extreme, unreasonable, and unacceptable.
Why is
it so difficult to persuade people of what they implicitly believe already?
The
reason is not difficult to find. Most people inherit an intellectual
schizophrenia from the state that educates them, the media that amuses them,
and the intellectuals who propagandize them.
This is
what Murray Rothbard was driving at when he described the relationship between
the state and the intellectuals. “The ruling elite,” he wrote,
whether
it be the monarchs of yore or the Communist parties of today, are in desperate
need of intellectual elites to weave apologias for
state power. The state rules by divine edict; the state insures the common good
or the general welfare; the state protects us from the bad guys over the
mountain; the state guarantees full employment; the state activates the
multiplier effect; the state insures social justice, and on and on. The apologias differ
over the centuries; the effect is always the same.