Freedom is one of those few sacred notions we cherish deeply as a community. We also enjoy thinking that our freedom is unlimited-this is a prerequisite for a democratic society. But our perception of our own liberty is often flawed. There really isn't as much of it as there seems to be. I, for example, don't feel free at all these days. Here's why.
By agreeing to form a political community, we have substantially minimized our freedom. Perhaps subconsciously, we have committed to the Hobbesian social contract, trading individual liberty for collective security. It is a contract founded on fear and the extent to which it defines our society can be felt everywhere. It can be felt in many restaurants and some bars, where the freedom to smoke cigarettes has been sacrificed for protection of nonsmokers from second-hand smoke. It can be felt in airports, where privacy has been sacrificed for protection from terrorism as security personnel make you take off your shoes and unbuckle your belt. In fact, arguably the most striking and controversial freedom we have-the freedom to bear arms-was granted to us for the very purpose of self-defense and protection from perceived threats.
Our preoccupation with security and everything that ensures it (laws, restrictions, fines, deadlines, etc) has surpassed our appreciation of freedom, liberty and independence. Constantly reminding ourselves that we would rather be safe than sorry, we often find that we don't mind being safe rather than happy. We no longer take risks, having adopted a philosophy of inactivism. We don't know the consequences of change but expect the worst and are obsessive in our attempts to prevent it. People who invent and implement laws are wholeheartedly committed to protecting us from ourselves. Are we really this unreliable?
In a community like ours where the democratic majority (no matter how slim) makes all the calls, those who don't belong to this majority have three options: leave the community, rebel against the majority or join the majority. The first option defeats the purpose of forming a political community. The second option is hardly possible to carry out for reasons already discussed-fear of change and discontinuity on the part of the satisfied majority leaves no room for a successful revolution. The third option is quite tragic-t requires the concession of deep convictions and the betrayal of ideals.
Unfortunately, the most common outcome is the tragedy of conformity to the majority. The members of the minority have to remodel their beliefs and bow down in humility, which after some time turns into content. As a result, such a community is tight-knit and harmonious. There is a deep sense of belonging to the community, usually manifested through patriotism. What gets lost in such a community is diversity.
I'm not talking about ethnic, racial or religious diversity-these should be taken for granted. I'm talking about intellectual diversity-the diversity of ideas and opinions. Some interesting questions immediately come up. Is there really equality in our society or is it merely our excuse for its homogeneity? Are we all equal or are we all simply the same? Are individuals' differences tolerated or are those differences too trivial to encourage meaningful debate on issues of importance?
There is no individualism left in our society anymore. In fact, the formation of a society demands that any kind of individualism is systematically abolished. We have become so group-oriented that our individual identities have been dissolved in group culture. We seek social acceptance and can only find it by committing ourselves to an organization that broadly shares our interests. On a university campus this is perhaps as evident as anywhere else. Students form unions and alliances with every chance they get. We go to Badger games wearing red and white, united by our hatred of Michigan-a large, prestigious, public, midwestern university like Wisconsin. We choose to join a particular fraternity or sorority and enjoy the wonders of tradition and rivalry, even though every frat looks identical to an outsider.
I can't think of an effective way to revive freedom in our society. Hermann Hesse pointed out that solitude is independence and this is better than anything I can offer.
Perhaps to live without constraint one has to move to a desert island. I don't know how many would willingly make this choice. Man is, after all, a social animal.