A Month in Review

Not just any ol’ month, though. As I mentioned yesterday, we had a farewell feast last night. For the past month we’ve had a Belarusian houseguest. He works with Lobo at Casey Research, and was here primarily to get a lot of hands-on training. That was accomplished; and of course, we tried to give him as rich a sampler of American life and Pacific Northwest beauty as we could. Naturally, woven through our interactions were many threads relating to freedom. He may have provided me as much food for thought as we did him.

Allow me to back up a little, first. We met this young man, whom I’ll label “D” for the rest of this ramble, at the Lithuania Liberty English Camp a couple of years ago. He distinguished himself not only by his intellect, but also by his warm, gentle spirit—no small feat, since nearly all the students were cheerful and generous. D also participated in the Georgia camp that same year; and it was there that his initiative really shone through. Even though he was a student, D frequently helped the organizers and staff with various logistical, organizational, and technical challenges that arose over the course of the camp; and in doing so, displayed an effortless candor blended with tact that made it a pleasure to talk with him, even as he upbraided someone. I should know: toward the end of the Lithuania camp, he told me that my classes were not really sufficiently in-depth for the students. That was the dawn of my realization that different cultures produce differing perspectives on what freedom is, and how best to achieve it.

My focus in the classes was an idea that had been something of a revelation to me, and which I address here with some regularity: that all freedom is personal. To the Belarusian students (less so the Lithuanians and Ukrainians, and even less so the Georgians, it seemed to me—but all far above Americans), stating that was akin to pointing out noses on people’s faces. We didn’t have time at the camps to pursue the subject, so I was glad of the opportunity to follow up with D at our leisure.

One might think that a month with a guest would strain a household—yet such is D’s grace that the few misunderstandings that arose were easily resolved. He jumped in to our cooking and dish-doing rotations, making an enormous quantity of delicious draniki (potato pancakes) for his first meal (with my help, as he doesn’t cook much at home). His observations and perceptive comments often helped me see both family interactions and American society and culture at large in a different light.

Going to the grocery store with him was a revelation: where I had fallen into the habit of seeing all the processed and packaged foods negatively, he saw them quite differently. While they do tend to be less nutritious, they still offer individuals a choice—and that choice is something that D said is severely lacking in Belarus. As a former Soviet bloc country—one still under the thumb of its own dictator, Lukashenko—much of what’s imported comes from Russia or other former Soviet countries. As I understand it from him, if one company or producer supplies an item, that’s good enough. And why bother trying to improve the quality, or expand the variety? People will buy what’s available ... customer service is apparently a concept that doesn’t get much attention there. Seeing the issues through his eyes impressed upon me anew that I am fortunate to be able to choose among organic and locally produced foods, non-organic produce trucked to supermarkets, and processed, packaged foods. Yeah, I don’t foresee ever voluntarily switching from homemade scalloped potatoes to the boxed variety, but the choice does exist for me.

The differences between D’s perspective and those of Lobo’s first brood were particularly interesting. I think he is around the same age as Lobo’s eldest. While they all are above 18 years old, still live with us, have never had a job outside the home, and only barely contribute to the running of the household (the aforementioned dinner and dishes rotations, plus a weekly cleaning rotation), D is married; he’s been fairly independent for some time, as he left his native village for university in Minsk and rarely returns to visit his mother. (In fact, he was bemused by how seldom he or his friends make such trips in the context of our travels: given Belarus’ size, they can’t be much more than a 1.5-hour drive from family—here, that was about the drive to the airport.) D groks making his own way in a way Lobo’s first brood still appear to lack. In a discussion of intellectual property, one of them remarked that he needs some kind of protection for his art if he’s to make money from it. D and I both pounced on that, telling him that he has no basis for expecting to be able to earn a living in that way—if there’s a market, he can work to meet it, but if not, he cannot force one to appear. Nor can he keep one alive forever—hence the need to be flexible and willing to do a variety of things to meet one’s obligations. I think the gears are still grinding in the would-be artist’s head from that conversation.

This ramble is getting quite long already, and I’ve barely scratched the surface ... perhaps I can sum up what I’m trying to portray, in observing that D’s attitude—again, not unique to him based on my interactions with other Baltic and eastern European students—is one of openness and a willingness to try new things. He was afraid of heights, he said ... but when we visited the Space Needle (neatly dodging the “required” photo-taking of us all), he came along without hesitation. D stayed inside for just a couple of minutes, and then ventured out; we ended up needing to drag him back inside so we could go to dinner! Similarly, D had water/seasickness concerns. Instead of declining our suggestion to go for a whale-watching tour, he embraced the opportunity and ended up enjoying the ferry ride to the island, as well as the three-hour adventure in the much smaller tour boat. How many of us not only endure our limitations, but embrace them to some degree even as we complain about and decry them? We too often allow problems to envelope us in cocoon of familiarity, but it can become a prison that may slowly constrict us—especially health issues for which we turn to pills rather than substantive changes. I am a little embarrassed to say that I recognized that pattern in myself.

D and I did get back to that “all freedom is personal” conversation. He told me that the Belarusian word [Belarusian is different from Russian, beginning with a slightly different alphabet] for freedom has the personal element built in, so to speak; and I apologized for wasting their time pointing out the obvious. We both laughed ... but I think we both understand better how the situation came about.

My experiences and conversations with D have left me wondering if we westerners have become too complacent in our success. In particular, Americans—having been taught that some thinkers and soldiers secured the country’s freedom a couple of centuries back, with a couple of nice, archived documents affirming the tale—may have been lulled into the mistaken belief that all the hard work has been completed. The abundance of our choices—and for many, the “American Dream” become consumerist trap—make it easy to avoid the hard facts before us: the federal government has expanded and is out of control, regulating far too much of our lives, wrecking markets with its continual interventionism, and stealing what little wealth we can accrue via the debasement of its fiat currency. Most state governments aren’t much better. Far too many freedom-loving individuals have been sucked into one or more of these traps as well—or worse: in our failure to see that we often forge our own chains, we place responsibility for them on the state, when all we need to do is give a good tug and the chains will fall away. Lewlew recently elaborated on this idea quite nicely. The desire for freedom is inherent within us; and I daresay that even amongst those who aren’t libertarians or anarchists, who consider themselves a good Republican or Democrat, both the cognitive and the real dissonance between what one thinks and/or believes and what one does can be a deep source of unhappiness and stress.

Longtime readers have seen this photo before; and what I wrote in that context remains relevant today. It is also every bit as true for physical obstacles as it is mental ones. Focusing on the state and the ways its agents might impinge upon one’s freedom too often can lead one to doing the impinging oneself; fear frequently contributes to choosing that course. What with D’s presence and my recent computer issues, I had forgotten about today’s significance for liberty. I hope that the rebellions taking place across the country are but a first step for participants. Starving the state is an essential component of reclaiming one’s liberty; and I hope the largely symbolic tea parties under way reflect a growing swell of income tax resistance. Small rebellions can be the spark to more substantive ones.

To reclaim freedom, there must be a desire for it, along with the willingness to rebel. We may differ in our visions of where the flame of liberty burns brightest, but for me today, reflecting on the many ideas my month with D produced, I am content just to know that there are many sparks spread across the globe. The bureaucrats and controllers cannot, and will not, quash them all.