The Social Codicil 1

The Social Codicil 1:

Reevaluating Rousseau

 

Preface

Jean-Jacques Rousseau was a man of many contradictions.  Or so all the prefaces to his books warn me.  

I first heard of Rousseau in a single paragraph in a college history book.  Through the magic of twenty years of hindsight, I'm confident it went exactly like this:

Rousseau is best known for having created the Social Contract,

which is the idea that we give up some of our freedom

in exchange for government protection and the rule of law.

So, yeah, the details were a bit inaccurate; then and now.  But you get the picture.

Years later I was asked to participate in a civics event for high school students.  Little did I know the curriculum was written by a hardcore libertarian.  Live and learn.  And Google before you say yes. 

Anyway, I got to hear student after student parrot the famous line that is quoted far too often; so often that I truly regret having to quote it here:

 "Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains."

Or worse, their own interpretation:

 “Man must always be left in a state of nature, without taxes or government interference.”

Mankind, they assured us, must at all times be free of government and taxation.  He must be as the solitary caveman; at one with the land; growing his own food as each builds his own log cabin on the shores of his own private Walden Pond as big and sprawling as he desires, yet somehow never interfering with neighbors.  Alone, except for the invisible hand of the free market, unicorns, and other mythical creatures.  

And they got all that from the first line of chapter one.  I mean, who needs to read the rest?  It's clear that Rousseau is a libertarian fap fest, right? 

Well, it certainly didn't fit what I'd remembered from the magic paragraph.  So, Rousseau went on my future reading list.  And then one day his book was staring at me from the shelf of my favorite used bookstore.  Challenge accepted.

'Twas the Discourse on the Origin of Inequality.  I realize some editions translate the title differently, but that's what my first copy called it.  For short, let's call it the DOI.

The preface, as noted above, warned me that the contradictions would soon make themselves apparent.  I braced myself.

And found none.  It made perfect sense to me.  A metaphor here, some facetiousness there, and it all fell into place.  So, I read the Social Contract.  And the Discourse on the Sciences and Arts, Emile (Or On Education), the Discourse on Political Economy, the State of War, the Reveries of the Solitary Walker, his letter to M. D’Alembert, and his translation of the Abbe de St. Pierre’s Project for Perpetual Peace.  I interspersed it with all three volumes of Maurice Cranston’s painstakingly detailed biography (which dissects Rousseau’s Confessions in detail).

It all made total sense.  Where are these vaunted paradoxes?  It seemed like each step reiterated my understanding.  Okay, Emile had some weird sexual and sexist tangents in it, and with his own personal history you have to take his supposedly-a-metaphor-but-strangely-specific instructions on child rearing with a grain of salt.  But even Emile reinforced the idea that I had formed.

But it can’t be that easy, can it?  This must be confirmation bias.  I must not be smart enough to catch the nuance, or maybe I just didn’t read carefully enough.

I don’t blame you for thinking that.  Odds are, you’re right.  And I struggled with both real and perceived imposter syndrome.  For all the works I mentioned that I've read, there are several more from Rousseau I haven't even touched.  Plus, I claim no facility with French, Greek, or Latin, and no more than passing familiarity with Hobbes, Locke, or Machiavelli.  I barely finished Plato's Republic.  All of these things are at least a great asset (if not a necessity) for reading and understanding Rousseau, and I don’t have them. 

So, I fully acknowledge I could be wrong.  Hell, it's a pretty safe bet.  So why would I risk the humiliation of questioning two hundred years of genuine scholarly work by suggesting I can resolve the contradictions they've cataloged with a one-word Rosetta Stone? 

Because the idea is solid.  If Rousseau didn’t mean it, I’ll gladly take the credit. 

One Word: Hope

I sometimes feel as though everything in life comes back to the assumptions we make.  In this case, my big epiphany was the product of different assumptions.  More specifically, I wasn't making the same assumptions as the writers of those book prefaces (prefacii?)

The idea is very simple:  You can resolve Rousseau's contradictions with hope.  Or perhaps optimism would be the better word. 

That's how you can reconcile the detested line about chains with this little beauty (from the same book):

We might also add that man acquires with civil society, moral freedom, which alone makes him master of himself; for to be governed by appetite alone is slavery, while obedience to a law one prescribes to oneself is freedom[1].

In other words, the only true freedom exists within a governed society; each person acting in a way that is commensurate with the general will (from which we derive the law).  It's a largely self-governed structure (though not a true democracy) where an empathic, highly educated citizenry takes an active part. 

We see from other parts of his work that this must also be a well-governed society, but isn’t that a natural condition for a successful government in any philosophy?

Nonetheless, there are four very important pieces here:

  1. The people must be educated and morally elevated; the inadequacies of our government are merely a reflection of our inadequacy as citizens.  We, here in the United States, do not suffer under a tyrannical dictator.[2]  We have a government of the people, and the people suck.
  2. Reason does not create inequality; it trades one kind of inequality for another.  We've traded raw muscle and animalistic vigor for inherited wealth and restrictive covenants.  There is no objective measure to tell us that one is better than the other; there are winners and losers in each scenario.  If anything, the ability for brains to best brawn is increased in our modern world, but then I don't automatically make the mistake of assuming that's any better. 
  3. Rousseau's work is not the libertarian paean some would have us believe.  Rousseau does not believe that freedom only exists when we get away from each other, or when we stop writing laws forbidding murder and theft.  In fact, he calls that state of being isolation; not freedom.  Isolation also does not create or guarantee morality; a serial killer trapped alone on a deserted island does not suddenly become moral because he runs out of potential victims.
  4.  Most importantly, the real crux in understanding his philosophy[3] is that I don't make the same assumptions as so many other writers.  I'll talk about others in another essay, but here’s the most critical:  I don't assume - nor do I assume that Rousseau assumed - that government is inherently a burden or an evil.  Nor is society, which should not be confused with government.  I also contrast society that is (it sucks), with society that could be (at least better, if not fully Star Trek-ian.)

If this co-called "natural liberty", or freedom in a "state of nature", was simply the freedom to do anything you're strong enough to get away with, then the weak can never be free except in complete isolation… where they have the freedom to do anything… anything, that is, except be around stronger people who will take away their freedom.  Okay, that sentence got away from me there.  But you can see how this version of the vaunted "state of nature" cannot be a welcome alternative to someone who was always picked last place in T-ball, and how portraying simplistic views of Captain Caveman as the ideal state of man are fraught with problems. 

Thus, the government can be a savior to the weak, much like the idea that civilization truly began with the healing of debilitating injuries.  But what do the strong get out of it?  Peace, if they bring it with them (like the tree on Dagobah; you find what you take with you). 

Plus, the government and laws clarify expectations for the strong, so that we will know what offends, and can avoid mistakenly doing so.  Being strong doesn’t automatically make someone a tyrant.  But government and laws ensure that if the strongest man violates the law, then a dozen of the less powerful will band together to overpower him. 

But what do all people, strong and weak, get out of it?  Brace yourselves, kiddos, because the rest of these pages are all centered around this. 

An investment. 

Try it yourself.  Instead of seeing government as a burden, see it as an investment.  An opportunity.

Hope.  Glass half full.  But let’s start by analyzing the opposite; assuming that the government makes us victims.

Assuming the Worst

I've never understood why so many people operate from the implicit assumption that government is a burden or an evil.  At best, folks seem willing to admit that government is a necessary evil; but still an evil, just the same.  It often seems like only fascists and dictators believe government is inherently a good thing.

This assumption seems to be conflating pessimism with a core tenet of government.  The pessimistic view says, "The government won't let me kill people when they're an inconvenience to me.  Therefore, I have lost my freedom."  Or, “I can’t drive as fast as I want, therefore tyranny.”

The optimistic view says, "The government can help us pool our resources and efforts, and we can go to the friggin' moon!  In the meantime, we have a common set of rules while driving!  Isn't that great?"

Remember: just because we haven’t gotten it right yet doesn't mean it can't be done. 

Some of those prefaces I keep harping on think Rousseau made the same pessimistic knee-jerk assumption about society.  As though society and government were interchangeable, and both are inherently oppressive things. 

One even says that Rousseau believed the cave in Plato's allegory represented society; meaning mankind must be rescued from the cave of society by going into solitude.  Well… okay, I guess, if you assume society must always contain only its most base features. 

I suppose that if one takes this vilification of society as accurate, then it might make sense to assume that one must get away and be isolated in order to be rescued.  Emile must be sheltered from society so as not to be poorly influenced by it, yes?

But why assume that's the only response?  If society is a poor influence, then getting away is only one response.  The pessimistic one. 

The optimistic solution would be to elevate society.  To teach.  To lead.  To make society into a better influence on the child, thus establishing a positive cycle where government supports the society that influences the child who then becomes a valued part of a good government that supports a good society that influences the next generation, and so on.  To shield Emile from the worst parts of society, not society itself, and thus to create a leader. 

And then he comes back.  We can’t forget that part.  Rousseau posited the idea that Emile would be shielded from society, become a great person, then reenter society.  Of course, Rousseau suggests that Emile would quickly realize how much society sucks, and probably get his heart broken by some evil Jezebel, and maybe go back to isolation. 

But we can resolve this.  What Emile lacks is critical mass, and a steady push forward.  Teach, lead, and create the conditions for others to teach and lead.  Each one teach one, as the Black community has so brilliantly put it.  It’s a slow, upward cycle.  Over time, everything gets better.  Never perfect, but better.   

Hope.  Optimism.  Investment. 

So What About The Chains?

Ah yes, back to the detested quote.  Okay, mankind is in chains.  Why do we assume those are chains of government?  Or chains from any source external to our own minds? 

Isn't this a metaphor for eschewing amour-propre?[4]  Isn't this really just another way of saying free your mind and your ass will follow?  Surely that is the underlying drive of all of Rousseau's political texts.  Free yourself from society's judgment; free yourself from societal groupthink.  Stop performing on social media, and just be yourself. 

But I get ahead of myself.  I'll come back to the free spirit in a moment.  For now, the critical thing is not to confuse government with society, nor moral obligation with oppression.

Duty is Not Oppression

As I interpret his work, Rousseau believed that duty, or a moral obligation, is not oppression.  In other words, the fact that you have a duty to the state, to your family, or to your benefactor, does not take away your freedom. 

Say a friend loans you money.  A truly free individual needn't ever pay the money back.  This may hamper his relationships because folks won’t trust him, but it's still a choice he is free to make. 

But you should pay them back, right?  You should pay your debts.  This doesn't make you less free; that is to say it does not hamper your freedom in a substantive or meaningful way.  The same way pre-internet business hours didn’t damage your freedom.  Just because you couldn't open a bank account or buy a new toaster at 3am doesn’t mean you aren’t free in all the important ways. 

That said, it's easy to see how duty can be manipulated; especially by a tyrant appealing to the citizens' patriotism to achieve his goal.  This would be oppression, or something remarkably similar.  But when the people act in accordance with the general will, as Rousseau advocated, powered by empathy and education, how could such a legitimate moral imperative be slavery?

So Why Does Rousseau Praise the Natural State?

Actually, I don't think he does.  To my view, Rousseau is simply advocating taking the best of both the savage, natural state of man, and the modern society.   And I think his readers too often mistake description for advocacy of one to the exclusion of the other.[5] 

Several prefaces, and in fact Rousseau's express words in Emile, indicate that the so-called natural man is uncorrupted; this, they say, is the ideal state of man.  Well, this incorruptibility should come as no surprise since he also stated in the DOI and the Social Contract that natural man was without morality.  Like the Garden of Eden before the apple, there is no sin; there is no morality to be violated.  That doesn't mean he is pure.  Remember our serial killer trapped on a desert island?  He does not become moral simply because he runs out of victims.  Rousseau wasn't advocating returning to the Garden; he was merely describing it to use as a rhetorical tool.    

At least one of the prefaces brazenly says that Rousseau believed the natural state of man is total solitude; stated in a way that firmly implies it is a goal, or ideal state.  Perhaps because Rousseau himself was such a loner?  Others say the pre-civilized caveman was Rousseau’s goal. 

But Rousseau himself refuted the idea.  In Vol 1 of Cranston's biography[6], he mentions a number of similar criticisms Rousseau had received; some of which Rousseau conceded, and even resulted in him making edits to future editions of his work. 

These criticisms included a letter Rousseau received from the King of Poland.  The king assumed that Rousseau meant what so many others have suggested: that Rousseau was a romantic who believed the life of primitive humans was idyllic and peaceful.  In refute, the king pointed out anthropological evidence showing that primitive man was violent, tribal, selfish, and brutal.  Thus, returning to this "state of nature" would not be a good thing.

Rousseau crankily brushed it off.  He was very dismissive with the idea.  Clearly this historian, like everyone else, didn't understand what he’d meant.  Primitive mankind was not the goal.

Several other prefaces espouse a roughly similar view.  In fact, this seems to be the crux of all the interpretations I've read so far, though they aren't all so explicit.  I probably should have led with that.  Whatever.  Anyway, to them, Rousseau wants us to get back to the simplicity of uncorrupted nature.  Back to Walden Pond.  This, they feel, is the thing Rousseau desired most.  

To me, it seems to be twisting Rousseau's words.  Isolation is not a goal, but a mere fact of the state of nature.  As noted above, if one is to be free within the state of nature, one must either be the strongest and biggest, or alone.  He is describing the natural state; not advocating. 

But he does see some value to the natural state.  Namely, he tells us to retain pity.  Pity, in all its forms, such as empathy and sympathy.  This statement is explicit in the DOI, and integrated into the education of Emile.  Look to those who suffer, and say to yourself, "That could be me."  Armed with that knowledge, what should you do?

Seeing his neighbor attacked by a bear, Rousseau's noble savage would not hesitate to help.  He is present; he cares; he reacts to help his fellow man.  Modern man, however, engages in a far more complex calculation.  "Should I get involved at all?  Is my neighbor a friend?  Will I be attacked, too?  What will my other neighbors think?  Should I call Animal Control, or 911?" 

Thus, Rousseau's praise of the natural state of man is merely an endorsement of the need to be present in the moment and help others as needed; to not let the modern society give us an excuse to be detached from the suffering of our neighbors.  At times, in both the Social Contract and Emile, he even endorses outright charity and a Robin Hood mentality.  Hardly the rugged, selfish Ayn Rand cum Marlboro Man that some may wish us to believe.

Essentially, it all boils down to a Robert Frost quote: 

Good fences make good neighbors.

We all know that’s not literal, right?  If you’ve read this far, I’m sure you must.  But just in case, Frost was saying the opposite – fences keep us apart.  Read in the context of the full poem, that's Rousseau's view on the state of nature in a nutshell.  We needn't read more into it than that. 

This is the only aspect of the state of nature for which I see praise in his words.  And, if the only valuable part of the state of nature is empathy, then it presents no contradiction to be reconciled with the rest of his philosophy. 

But you may be wondering, what about Rousseau's personal life?  Doesn't the solitude that bookended his life show us how much he idealized solitude as the ideal state of man? 

Umm… no, I don't take that leap.  To me, his personal solitude needn't be an extension of his philosophy at all.  A result, perhaps.  A useful tool for formulating his philosophy, sure.  But not the preferred state.  To presume his solitude (which he often complains is forced upon him) is a purposeful actuation of his ideas is to assume facts not in evidence. 

We see this sort of thing far too often in various biographies (and in the prefaces).  The original author says, "I expected X, but did not find it."  The biographer then concludes for us that the original author was disappointed at not finding X. 

Ah, but was he?  Or pleasantly surprised?  Bemused?  Blasé?  Or merely taking detached, clinical notes?  How would my future biographer - should I be lucky enough to warrant one - react were I to write that I expected three commercials during this break, but saw only two?  That I love commercials?  That I wanted to see more of them?  Or that I'm mad because I thought I had enough time to pee and grab a beer and make it back in time? 

Similarly, we should not conclude without substantially more evidence that because Rousseau ended up lonely, it was because of some higher integrity.  It was more likely he was lonely because he was a cantankerous skinflint and curmudgeon who acknowledged having treated most people in his life like shit. 

I don't mean to say there was no overlap here between the solitude of his life and in his philosophy.  But the words I read, especially in the Reveries, are the words of a man who very much wants to fit in and connect with people.  He wants to be in society.  It was only his genius - or perhaps a less genial quality or three - preventing him from doing so.  I'm left with an overpowering conclusion:

Rousseau didn't want others to be lonely like him.  He wanted to build a society into which he could finally fit. 

A society that would value a man like him, and not expect him to comport himself as one of the hoi polloi.  Nietzsche said, "No one thanks the witty man for the courtesy of adapting himself to a society in which it is not courteous to display wit."  Rousseau was the witty man who was tired of holding it in all the time and desperately wished for an audience understanding of his genius. 

And he saw how the people working together for the common good could succeed in creating this society.  That is, if only they could be made to first understand what he understood: mainly, the lessons he learned through a childhood in solitude and austerity.  These were, he seemed to believe, the keystones of society reinventing itself for the greater good.

Hope.  Optimism.  Investment.

Simplicity and Austerity

Rousseau's complaints about ostentatiousness in society are no slam on society in its Platonic sense; only a bashing of some of the worst tendencies in a society.  This is an important difference, albeit subtle.

By sheltering Emile from excess and luxury (both directly, and from seeing it displayed by others), Emile does not grow to value it.  He doesn't want it.  He doesn't resent not having it.  He grows to value the simple life in the country, and is therefore prepared for the city. 

Let us not mistake a life in the country with our idyllic, isolated one-person handmade cabin on Walden Pond.  In fact, let us start by not mistaking the real life of Thoreau for one of ascetic libertarianism.  Simpler minds have presented that book as a rabidly isolationist anti-tax, and anti-government book; sort of like a passive Anarchist's Cookbook.  Certainly, there are aspects of it; especially when read side-by-side with his discourse on Civil Disobedience.  Sure, we can say with certainty that he is no poster boy for socialism. 

But total, rugged, and absolute self-sufficiency?  Let's not forget that near the beginning of the book Thoreau gives us his shopping list. 

Get that?  Even Thoreau bought groceries.  See point #4b in this old essay, here. 

Only a very tiny percentage of the population lives in true isolation, and last I checked those folks are rarely revered.  None of the ones I’ve ever met, anyway.  Respected, at best, and given a wide berth, but hardly seen as the ideal state of man. 

The other 99% of us are not alone.  We are not isolated.  We are connected.  This interconnectedness is exacerbated by the internet and social media.  Ideally, we must act together in a way that is commensurate with the general will.  Or, at least, not directly at odds with the general will.

As a result of this interconnectedness, isn't every action that benefits the society as a whole an investment in our collective future?  Or, you might say that everything that brings us together is civics.  (For more on this, see point #1 in this old essay, here. )

In the Discourse on the Origin of Inequality says that even a dog will show emotion upon seeing the corpse of another dog.  Or to put it even more simply, my thesis is this:

 

This, and a thousand other stories of animals showing compassion and empathy for others. 

Investment.  Hope.  Optimism.

A Syphilitic Philosopher and a Black Panther Walk Into a Bar…

One of the prefaces says that Rousseau presents us with the choice of whether to live for ourselves, or to live for others.  To perfect the solitary individual, or to perfect the citizen?  Surely, Rousseau tells us, one cannot do both at the same time.

I disagree; with that interpretation, and the idea itself.  Improving the one (self) will improve the other (society).  Wasn't that Rousseau's point?  Like putting on your own oxygen mask first… you don’t stop there.

Have we not seen this before?  Take Nietzsche's freigeist-cum-Ubermensch, or Huey P. Newton's Revolutionary Suicide. 

'Nuff said, right? 

No?  Okay, fine.  Here's what I mean:

There is a profound difference between a free spirit and a contrarian. 

For contrast, a conformist goes with the grain; a contrarian goes against the grain. 

A free spirit goes the right way (or at least what he believes is right) no matter where everyone else is going.  He gains strength in himself; not from outside forces like social clubs and religions.  He doesn't seek, and does not recognize, society's approval of him (much the way Rousseau tells us to eschew amour-propre).  But he doesn’t need to hide to do that.  In fact, hiding from society’s judgment would defeat the point. 

And what if society hates him, condemns him, or wants him dead?  What if he should be on trial for his life, say, for not yelling "GO LOCAL SPORTS TEAM!" when demanded by the cashier who is ringing up his groceries, as God intended?  

Enter our Newtonian friend.  Revolutionary suicide is not about having a death wish or a martyr fantasy; it's about living in a way that is so dedicated to self-prescribed principles that one would rather die than compromise.  What better evidence of amour de soi can there be than willfully drinking society’s hemlock?

And how does this empowered individual improve society?  The same way any system or machine is proportionately improved as each component improves.  If nothing else, these strong iconoclasts tend to make great leaders.

Each individual is a citizen; each citizen a part of the general will.  So long as they choose to act for the greater good, that is.  Greater thinkers than I have said that pseudo-democracies such as ours rely on an educated and virtuous populace.  So, you know, ditto what they said. 

Improvement.  Greater good.  Investment.  Hope. 

Government Is An Investment

"Capitalist, communist, terrorist; swear to God, I don't know the difference."

-- Chuck D of Public Enemy

Chuck D is a prophet that I think you ought to listen to. 

What is the difference between Capitalism and Socialism?  No really.  What is the difference?  Drop the buzzwords and technical distinctions, and step back. 

A little farther. 

Keep going. 

A little farther.  Seriously, a few more steps.  You're almost there.  Good. 

Now, here's a real poser for you:

I'm thinking of a concept.  It's a concept where we work together and pool our resources toward achieving a common goal.  Everyone contributes what they can; resources, special skills, hard work, etc.  Together we have stronger buying power, and can utilize economies of scale.

What concept am I?

If you said Socialism, you're wrong.  Because I meant Capitalism.  Don't you see?  The goal is to earn a profit.  We do all those things so our group can benefit. 

Of course, if you’d said Capitalism, you'd be wrong too.  Because I meant Socialism.  Don’t you see?  The goal is to help all people.  We do these things so all of society can benefit. 

All the rest is sophistry.  The three-paragraph textbook definitions?  Fuck 'em.  It's all hokum designed to distract you from what is possible. 

Did you know the technical term for a city or town is a "municipal corporation"?  You do now.  Just as shareholders invest in corporations, we, the people, invest in government and our community. 

We do this to buy roads, and education, and drinking water.  Why would it be such an un-American travesty for us to do the same for things like health insurance? 

Now, I suppose many of you will object by saying that Capitalism aligns with mankind's inherent drive for competition.  Okay, I can see some merit in that.  However, I've never agreed that competition is everything we make it out to be. 

Sometimes it’s best for us to compete because competition can bring out the best in us.  But competition mostly tends to leave one of us lying bloody on the mat in the center of the ring.  This is most closely aligned with the natural, or savage state of man.

Cooperation put us on the moon.  This is the proper realm of the citizen. 

Investment.  Optimism.  Hope.

Many Happy Returns

"An uncorrupt will does not rebel against necessity."

-- Rousseau, Emile (or On Education)

You have to spend money to make money.  Or win the lottery.  Or park downtown.  Okay, that got away from me again.  What I meant to do was start with an old adage that few would argue with. 

You can't make money from the stock market if you haven't invested in the stock market.  Now, many people have issues with aspects of Wall Street; yours truly included.  But deep down, folks don't argue with this key component: you can't win if you don't play. 

And why don't they argue?  Rousseau's little comment above hits it right on the head.  We see this as a law of nature.  Can't win the lottery if you don't buy a ticket (no matter what that Nigerian prince says).  

And yet, we argue with... or ignore... this principle when applied to government.  I want my drinking water to be free of all varieties of human and animal shit, but I don't want to pay taxes for the salaries of the folks who are tasked with cleaning it.  I want the military to keep me safe, but I don't want to pay taxes that pay for their salaries, benefits, and materiel.  I want someone to stand watch and make sure the mayor isn't stuffing his pockets with kickbacks, but I don't want to pay taxes for an oversight watchdog. 

In other words, I want to win without buying a ticket. 

Society needs to be taught that this rule applies to government.  You've got to be all in, or it doesn't work.  Participate, care about others, stay up on the issues, and above all else, pay your share of taxes. 

One must be a part of the collective will and make choices for the benefit of all.  In order to do that, one must be educated and directly invested. 

So How Can We Be "Forced To Be Free"?

Yet another of Rousseau’s overquoted insights. 

It’s pretty easy, actually.  This isn't the paradox so many have made it out to be. 

First, it means mandatory education; especially in the liberal arts.  People must be forced to smarten the fuck up.  Much as a surgeon does violence to the body to cure, mitigate, or prevent a deeper harm, Rousseau is saying that society must be manipulated into seeing beyond its own pettiness.  They must be forced to go to school… where they will (hopefully, ideally, and yes, ironically) be taught to think for themselves. 

It's a shock to the system that breaks the cycle.  It's not just taking the shackles off the men in Plato’s cave, but actually leading them kicking and screaming into daylight. 

Isn't that really what Emile is all about?  The older, wiser caretaker manipulates the environment so that the student is forced to confront certain things, and in doing so becomes an enlightened citizen without realizing it?  For a pop culture comparison, think about mentat training in the Dune universe. 

Force them to learn, and to see beyond themselves.  Once enlightened, they will choose only freedom.  Moral freedom. 

Second, we take that concept and use society to reinforce it.  The country, adhering to general will, brings them into line.  It’s that upward spiral of leaders begetting leaders from the beginning. 

Conclusion: A Feud With Ruined Men

I'm probably wrong.  None of us know what Rousseau was really thinking; least of all me.  When I read it, I felt a rare, complete confidence that I understood it.  That never happens to me, and I took it as a sign.

Yet I'm probably wrong. 

But if I'm wrong, so what?  It's a good idea.  It's worth fighting for.  It's worth believing. 

Rousseau's so-called paradoxes can be resolved with hope.  You could use a little of it yourself.  Don't assume the worst, or that the worst qualities are inherent in government, society, daily interactions, or any of it. 

Read his works with an eye toward building a better world.  Find your part in it.  Replace the words “general will” with “good faith”.  Trade “state of nature” for “engaged community with less emphasis on social media”. 

And don't assume government is evil.  Government is a tool, and only as good as the craftsman.  It is of the people; whatever pseudo-democratic form it may take. 

Good government requires educated citizens, enlightened citizens.  Good government requires investment, your money and your life. 

Don’t assume we are meant to be isolated or alone.  We are stronger together.  We have tremendous power together.  But we must think for ourselves. 

Remember that even wild animals show compassion for each other.  If they can do it, we can do it. 

And so, I leave you in a maddening, but necessary way.  Good government requires an understanding of everything I've mentioned since page one, and then some.  So go back to the beginning of the book.  Start over. 

And keep the Horn of Eld with you this time. 



[1] He stole this from Plato, right?  See, I read stuff.  😊

[2] I first wrote this in 2014.  I’m truly sorry, dear reader. 

[3] One last time, then I’ll let it go.  I don’t actually know what he believes, but it doesn’t make sense to clutter this up with a constant litany of wiggle words. 

[4] We’ll dig into this more later, but “amour-propre” is the version of you that you show on social media.  It’s the selfies with Starbucks cups and the like.  The opposite of that is “amour de soi”, which is the real you underneath all that.  It’s your core character as a human, while amour-propre is the disguise you put on for the world. 

[5] Hegel, anyone?

[6] Page 241, Cranston, Maurice, The Early life and Work of Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1754), WW Norton & Co., 1982


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