Christmas: A Reflection
Most libertarian historians are probably not Christian, but they know that Christianity made a distinct and perhaps necessary contribution to the growth of liberty in the West. Whether this happened through providence or the happenstance of competition (for the latter see Deepak Lal’s insightful book Unintended Consequences) is not the subject of this reflection.
Rather, I’d like to make a point about liberty.
For some, perhaps most, Christians, the Christmas season is emotionally overwhelming, to the point where one Episcopal church in Raleigh has a “Blue Christmas Service” for those who find Christmas painful. Some Christians feel sad because a loved one has died and they miss the good times of the past. Others experience the season’s expressions of joy, hope, and salvation as an indictment of themselves because they do not feel joyous or hopeful or capable of being saved. And no one can escape the secular (but non-commercial) pressures of Christmas—to be with family, to give gifts, to make charitable donations, to be extra-friendly and cheerful (and not Scrooge-like).
Beyond that, all Christians experience the gulf between the celebration of an ideal world yet to come and the actual reality we live in. My father, an Episcopal minister, used to shape his sermons to acknowledge that gulf. He ended his Christmas Eve services with a prayer that the world would someday “give back the song the angels sing, of peace and love, good will to men.” But he also recognized that, nearly 2000 years into the project, it hasn’t.
Libertarians experience a parallel gulf. We dream of a world that respects the rights—the negative rights—of all people. Yet we look around and what do we see? Coercive government influence, seemingly increasing by the day. Profound ignorance about government, history, and the incentives that motivate people. Arrogance and self-righteousness. Blindness to the desires of people who want to cross borders and seek jobs. Populism, elitism, hypocrisy.
For us, nearly every day is a blue Christmas.
The good news is that libertarians are not restricted by theology, so they do not have to wait for a day that may never come. They can do something about today’s conditions.
Libertarians can use the tools of public choice, political entrepreneurship, communication skills, wealth accumulation, and more to understand why freedom is always in peril and incrementally restore or strengthen it. They can argue against restrictions on freedom. They can find models of freedom’s successes and promote them. And even in their dark hours they can admit that history, in spite of awful lapses, does reveal expansion of liberty, at the very least by the prosperity launched by the Industrial Revolution.
Rather than feel dejected about constraints on freedom, libertarians can—and I believe, must—keep trying to extend freedom, step by step. Seeking liberty incrementally through persuasion, logic, and example is, I believe, our Social Gospel, with a much better outcome for humanity than was achieved by the adherents of that somewhat distorted Christian philosophy.
The writers for Liberty and Power—and many readers—are trying to safeguard liberty. I wish them all success, whatever the season.