JUGGERNAUT
WHY THE SYSTEM CRUSHES THE ONLY PEOPLE WHO CAN SAVE IT
Eric Robert Morse
* * * * *
New Classic Books
Copyright © 2010 by Eric Robert Morse at Smashwords.
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
* * * * *
Author’s Note
Economically speaking, we have a surplus of troubles. From the whimpering job market to corporate scandals and industrial pollution, from childhood malnutrition to a deteriorating education system and skyrocketing debt, the critic has his choice of problems to focus on.
But perhaps the most glaring sign of trouble can be found, not in the problems themselves, but in the way we attempt to solve them. Sincere analysis and thoughtful proposals are rare these days; most people simply point their finger at the group supposedly responsible for a problem and do everything in their power to ridicule, denounce, and censure them. It’s the Republicans or Democrats, capitalists or socialists, corporations or labor unions that are to blame, and everything is their fault. In short, constructive discourse has been replaced by mere contempt.
Of course, defeating others is necessary in any competitive situation. But defeating others has become the new standard, replacing productive ends as the central goal in all social interaction. Browsing public fora will offer an abundant sample, whether in the comments section of popular YouTube videos, on Amazon.com message boards, on radio and television talk shows, or even in published books and political debates. The discussion appears to be aimed at the betterment of society—the economy, religious practice, education, the arts—but under the surface lies nothing more than sarcastic, petulant, and often downright hateful squabbling. Civility is thrown out the window; so too is cooperation. All the participants manage to produce is irrelevant factoids, sophistry, and name-calling, all aimed at beating the other side no matter what.
If viewed objectively, the whole enterprise can be pretty comical and would doubtless make the crew from Monty Python proud. But few if any view it objectively. Most take these arguments personally, as a kind of battle for survival—us against them, good versus evil—in which any and all maneuvers must be applied to ensure victory. They will try childish games, psychological trickery, illiteracy, and vulgarity (even though their words are replaced by dollar signs, percent symbols, and pound signs). As it seems, no one believes they can work with ‘the other side’ to attain a mutual goal, even if they have a good point or reveal the truth in some way—they are the enemy and must be defeated.
What this means is that truth, itself must be discarded in the interest of self-preservation. When it becomes more profitable to make fun of someone or berate them for their beliefs than it is to offer a constructive alternative, intellectual discourse is threatened. And, when a people can no longer rely on intellectual discourse, the society is bound to fall.
Man: I came here for a good argument.
Mr Barnard: No, you didn’t; no, you came here for an argument.
Man: An argument isn’t just contradiction.
Mr Barnard: It can be.
Man: No, it can’t. An argument is a connected series of statements intended to establish a proposition.
Mr Barnard: No, it isn’t.
Man: Yes, it is! It’s not just contradiction.
Mr Barnard: Look, if I argue with you, I must take up a contrary position.
Man: Yes, but that’s not just saying, ‘No, it isn’t.’
Mr Barnard: Yes, it is.
Man: No, it isn’t!
Man: Argument is an intellectual process. Contradiction is just the automatic gainsaying of any statement the other person makes.
Mr Barnard: No, it isn’t.
—“Argument Clinic” sketch, Monty Python
If there is a sign of the looming Juggernaut at all, it is this kind of bitter discord. Infighting and power struggles are the only recourse in a situation as confined and oppressive as the modern world. It is not an accident that the term ‘civil war’ has been uttered by credible sources.
This book aims to break free from this standoff in two ways: First, this argument attempts to present all sides of the great debates and understand the validity behind each. There is, after all, legitimate rationale behind all major political postures these days, and it can only do good to appreciate each side the way practitioners do. Some may find it satisfying to call Michael Moore a ‘fat loser’, for instance, but it does no good to disregard his claims against corporations. Calling Glenn Beck a ‘psycho elitist’ may make one feel better about one’s own beliefs, but it is not constructive to ignore his arguments against the state. Both have valid cases, and both can be valued as such.
Second, the point of this book is to get to the root of the discord—the Juggernaut, itself—and formulate a viable solution. This book intends to explain why it is assumed that one cannot win unless someone else loses, and why everything is geared to making that other side lose. Such a mentality affects the entire civilization and has many sources, but it is accessible and ultimately comprehensible. The key rests in understanding the system as a whole. For quick reference, the thesis can be found in the introduction as well as in the compendium toward the back of the book.
As anyone can tell, this is an economics book. Seeing as how economics has been labeled the ‘dismal science’, the author can only hope that this does not deter potential readers from the study in search of more lively material. After all, as a slew of writers have shown in recent years, economics can be a very interesting topic. At the very least, economics is a science of the decisions we make on a daily basis, and so it affects each of us in very immediate ways. As such, no one can deny its relevance.
But it is also the belief of the author that economics holds a much more important place in life generally and comprises the most fascinating material known to popular study. At its root, choice is the very substance of human action, and so economics is really the science of everything we do. From conducting business to creating art, from raising families to playing casual games on Facebook, everything is based in this fundamental study.
That is why economic trends lend insight into the great cultural trends of history, and why they provide a glimpse into the very character of mankind. Economics is not just the study of aggregate supply and demand charts; economics is the science of life, and nothing can be more interesting than that.
Certainly, the reader will find fair helpings of formulas and diagrams, all aimed at conveying the general concepts surrounding economics; but he will also find large doses of cultural and historical investigation, as well as references to literature, business practice, cinema, video games, sports, the fine arts, relationships, love, music, and religion, as well as a topic that the author considers to be one of the most interesting of all—breakfast cereal.
To be sure, this book is a theoretical study that contains little if any empirical analysis. This is not to say that such analysis would be unwelcome in defense of the thesis, but rather to reflect the author’s belief that a theory is best conveyed in a conversational style rather than through mathematical equations. While the latter may eliminate doubt on a given issue, understanding may well remain lacking. Anyway, it is believed that a theoretical survey can connect with a much wider audience than an empirical study can, which is a goal that all writers strive toward.
Ultimately, this book aims at the mesmerizing and lively. It is for those who try to connect their daily activities with the big picture and wonder how it all works; who love to examine social trends and see how they shift over time; who love science, industry, technology, and the other practical arts; who enjoy thinking about the human psyche and the culture it produces; who love a good paradox and want to see it explained.
Above all, perhaps, this book is for those who still find value in the human intellect and seek an arena where it can flourish and bring about ingenuity. Ours is possibly the most fascinating age in all of history, when the complex intricacy of the social fabric leads constantly to new challenges and fresh perspectives. In an age of vast technical and sociopolitical changes, we are increasingly faced with mysteries and riddles that confound the status quo. Those mysteries long to be solved. This book is for those who are willing to engage in the intellectual endeavor required to do so.
Introduction
The System
During the run-up to the mid-term election in 2010, as it became apparent that scores of Democrats would be replaced by a troop of Republican ‘Tea Party’ candidates, a bystander was almost guaranteed to hear a steady chant of lament from the left side of the political spectrum. It was a familiar chant, one that included such claims as ‘If those yahoos get into office, this country is ruined!’ and the old standby, ‘If they get hold of power, I’m moving to Canada!’
It was familiar because we actually heard it from the other side of the spectrum in 2008, when it had become clear that Barack Obama and the Democrats were poised to win power. Conservatives and Republicans from across the country shouted that ‘If that guy gets into office, this country is ruined!’ They too threatened to move to a different country, though it was to New Zealand or Singapore or some other place known to have reduced taxes and government intervention in recent years.
To the thoughtful participant, making such claims seemed like the only recourse. In fact, during every election, and especially the presidential ones, the mantra is always the same—‘If the other side gets ahold of power, the only thing left to do is move.’
Of course, in 2010, as it was in 2008 and other election years before, no one actually moved. As the protestors quickly learned, there was nowhere to move that could provide an escape from the newly elected officials and still offer all the benefits of living in the United States. What troubled voters found upon reflection was that no other country in the world provided a better situation than that which could be found at home—all had their drawbacks, and none provided the kind of deliverance that might be imagined.
For example, modern liberals saw Canada as enticing because of its universal health care, its anti-war posture, its progressive stance on same-sex marriage, and other liberal causes célèbres of the time, but Canada has always had high unemployment, relatively limited culture, and, no matter how warm their poutine is, it’s just really cold up there. Conservatives found places like New Zealand and Singapore appealing because they have reduced taxes and governmental bureaucracy in recent years, but they still maintain no small amount of strict rules and state intervention, which make them less appealing than they might have seemed on the surface—not to mention the 18-hour flight it would take to get there.
And so the typical disgruntled American voter really has no alternative in the situation. As corrupt as Dick Cheney and George W. Rex might have seemed, the leaders of France or Italy proved to be no more principled. As socialist and radical as Obama seems, the conditions in Germany or Australia provide no reprieve—all advanced countries suffer from the ills of the modern system, quite as if they are endemic. By moving away from America, one might be able to escape the threats to freedom and well-being present under its new regime, only to face new threats abroad. And who wants to eat Vegemite all day, anyway?
The fact is that there is no place to go that would provide a frustrated American with a viable escape. Certainly, there is no place to go that would improve the situation enough to justify changing citizenship, packing up, and actually making the move. It would be too much trouble for too little gain, and so, though such a move is often promised, it never happens.
* * *
This subtle truth is more troubling than it may seem. Simply, there is no place to move if things don’t go the way one wants them to go. This means that the citizens of this country, as passionate and idealistic as they are, must endure whatever policies and ventures the few in power decide to assume, even when those policies and ventures completely contradict the people’s core beliefs and ideals.
Throughout the Bush presidency, for instance, modern liberals had to tolerate eight years of foreign wars, crony capitalism, and bad public speaking; throughout the short Obama presidency, conservatives have had to endure third-world-style nationalization, deficit spending that would make Keynes’ head spin, and really good speeches that make it all sound like grapes and sunshine.
Americans are not used to this sort of thing. To them, it seems illogical and even unnatural to accept anything that is disagreeable or contradictory to one’s principles. If one is faced with a war that he finds objectionable or a government health care mandate that he considers to be unconstitutional, the American believes he should just reject it, turn away, and go find something that he does agree with—that is the American way; that is the way of a free people.
But that’s not the way it works anymore. For some time now, the party in power has been able to dictate what everyone must do, whether or not those dictates coincide with what everyone wants or believes to be in their best interest. We live in what might be called a ‘closed system’, one where there are no real alternatives or means of escape. If one disagrees with the war or cannot come to accept the government-run health care system, too bad. Everyone must deal with it and carry on as if there is no problem at all.
Now, one might argue that the average citizen does not have to just sit by and deal with it—he is given a means to correct the situation by voting. And, certainly, the kind of elections that we have seen in the last decade or so show that an agitated public can and will take their concerns to the voting booth to change the officials in power. It is thought that by doing so the people can improve their situation and actually make the system work.
But this is to neglect the contingencies inherent in the system itself. A closer look shows that it is designed in such a way that every action a voter makes or attempts to make through his representatives to correct the system basically undoes or prevents an action that someone else wanted or aimed for through other representatives. In the modern system, one side’s victory is the other side’s loss.
And so a citizen’s action necessarily invigorates a slew of others—Republicans stir up Democrats; the clean air advocates rile the tobacco lobbies to further action; environmentalists agitate the oil companies for more protection; financial regulations give banks incentive to find new ways to capitalize on their consumers. In a closed system, one group’s action always leads to another group’s reaction, and the process continues until everyone is affected.
Politically minded individuals will simply view this condition as a challenge. If we face a closed system with no real alternatives, then the only thing to do is to join in the fracas and get as much of the action as possible. The idea is to form some sort of lobby, ignite a campaign, or organize a special interest to extract as much funding, underwriting, or subsidy from the system as can be mustered.
These days, no one can afford to sit by and do nothing, and so everyone takes part and forms a special interest to gain political power. Manufacturers, teachers, engineers, farmers, secretaries, accountants, doctors, bankers, and so on—everyone must take part or else lose out. Indeed, this football fan recently learned that the NFL has a political action committee. Apparently, no one is exempt.
Anyone can see the trap that is set. By attempting to control the system through lobbies, campaigns, and special interests, these few politically minded activists only agitate others to join in and do the same. So more lobbies are initiated, more campaigns are run, and more special interests are formed in order to get more from the system, ultimately inducing even more of the same action. The more diligent and persuasive a group is, the more power they can obtain. Everyone involved is compelled to jump in on one side or the other and compete for control of the system that no one can afford to reject or deny. Since everyone has a stake in the game, and no one can deny the benefit of joining in, it becomes a massive tug-of-war that can only end in lots of muddy participants.
* * *
This vignette shows us in capsule form what happens when alternatives are eliminated from a given situation. Like clockwork, the powerful end up dictating, and so everyone is forced to compete for power, which only leads to an ever-escalating quest for control over others. This is the condition in which we live in early twenty-first century America. Without viable alternatives, everyone must adhere to the dictates of those in power, whether it is the Democrats or Republicans, the corporations or the unions. Given such a predicament, it is only reasonable to strive to achieve control, and so ensues a neverending struggle to obtain and hold power over everyone else.
The goal of this book is to examine this condition, how it came about in our society and how it comes about in general, the major consequences of such a situation, and, in the end, potential solutions. The primary source of reference is Western Civilization in the last five hundred years. As we will see, this slice of culture shows us exactly what happens when a closed system opens and then closes again. During the last five hundred years, we have experienced a wave of change that has taken us from one extreme to the other and back again, as if in a great tragedy.
The Western story is emblematic primarily because its signposts are so vivid in our historical imagination. At the end of the fifteenth century, the system was closed with nowhere to go, much like it is today. With the discovery of America, the system suddenly opened up, after which came an era of revolution and growth. Toward the end of the nineteenth century, however, the frontier closed, and a sort of cultural reversal set in. In our age, the West again finds itself locked in a closed system, not unlike that from which it emerged around 1500, and braces for what critics have warned will be another Dark Ages.
The plan of this book follows this rough sketch: The first part examines the discovery of the New World and the economic significance of its exploration and colonization. The second section opens with a survey of the close of the frontier, which occurred around 1890 and more or less brought an end to the era of expansion and growth, followed by an examination of the consequences of the close, namely interdependency and the competition for wealth and resources. The third part looks at the rather logical solution to this problem: the development of a welfare statist system and the large-scale control of wealth by central governments. It concludes with an appraisal of statism and its moral effect. Finally, in the fourth part, having examined the root problem and the failed solution of government intervention, the text aims at a viable solution, which centers largely on self-sufficiency and independence—a moving forward to the new kind of life first experienced after the discovery of the New World.
* * *
If nothing else, this argument should be seen as a way to understand current troubles as more than just the intentional conspiracy of some group of malicious others. These days, it is all too easy to assign the ills of the world to some political party or contingent of the population, such as the corporations or the unions. All of the elements of the modern system arose from valid aims and are sustained by human beings. They are no more malicious or devious than the average voter or consumer or worker, and they should shoulder no more of the blame than anyone else.
That is to say that the average voter, consumer, and worker is no more exempt from blame than the great political parties, corporations, or unions. Indeed, individuals and families are as responsible as those hated organizations, if not more so, because it is from the actions and desires of individuals that large companies and government bureaucracies derive their power. What reckless manufacturer, for instance, would be able to continue its egregious pollution if no consumer bought its products? What politician could curtail freedoms and aid a special interest if the citizens of the country refused to put up with a system that enabled such corruption? It is a truth widely recognized that tyranny stems from the consent of the governed as much as democracy does.
The fact is that consumers value highly the nearly infinite supply of cheap, reliable goods available at Walmart and Target; they enjoy McDonald’s delicious, fatty foods and Microsoft’s highly functional software. If these great corporations did not provide what consumers wanted, then the corporations couldn’t act as they wished. Voters want ‘free’ health care and social security, protection and the removal of risk in financial investments. If the government didn’t provide what the people wanted, then it would not have been able to grow so dominant in the first place. There isn’t a conspiracy—everyday people are just getting what they’re asking for.
Of course, exploitation does exist, and so do shady back-room meetings of twelve fat men—one such meeting took place in 1910 on Jekyll Island. But even so, the U.S. and other world economies are too large for any limited conspiracy to control completely, and must rely on everyone else to be carried through. This is to say that the problems we face as a people are not the intentional plans of some devious plot, but rather a natural manifestation of the system as a whole.
The system—what a concept! In common usage it implies a swollen leviathan that regulates the status quo and dictates the actions and thoughts of everyone in sight. In reality, it is nothing more than the complex organization of all social, political, and economic institutions—institutions that we, the average citizens, comprise almost wholly. At first glance, one might assume that these institutions are controlled by those at the top—the politicians, the CEOs, the bankers, the twelve fat men, and so on—but those figureheads only wield power because the populace is so willing to be overpowered. The fact that the large majority of Americans are largely content with their standard of living is proof of the system’s appeal. And so it must be said that the people are as responsible for their condition as the fat men in shadowy rooms; indeed, they are just the instrument, and we are actually the system.
The Catch
Most citizens are content to let things go in Washington and New York if only because they are content with the standard of living they have been afforded by the system. One naturally feels the urge to stand up, protest, and revolt in some way when seeing the corruption at the top, but the institutions that he would have to strike out against and reform are the same ones that he relies on for basic needs—food, shelter, security, and so on. A shopper might despise the way Walmart crowds out mom-and-pop stores, for instance, but cannot argue with the lower prices and convenience the behemoth offers; a parent might disapprove of Chinese labor policies, but cannot dispute the value of his child’s clothes; a voter might frown on his congressman’s earmarks, but cannot possibly vote for the other party—that would be defection.
Modern living props up the society that everyone knows is corrupt, and yet nobody can imagine living in any other way. Spending more for homemade items puts a consumer at a disadvantage; voting for the other party means that one’s interests won’t be looked after. One is encouraged to wake up to the iniquities being thrown upon him by the system, but he cannot overturn that system because he relies upon it for his well-being. He is the system that he would overturn.
And so there is something of a catch inherent in modern civilization. Everyone knows that the system is fraudulent and corrupt, but no one dares to try to reform it because it gives him what he wants. Any attempt at revolt or reform would disrupt and threaten his own well-being, which most people cannot afford. Reform in general is like trying to move a rug that you’re standing on—doing so will only knock you down. It is better to stabilize yourself and let someone else try the move if they are so inclined. Of course, stabilizing yourself makes it more difficult for others to make the move, as they now have to contend with extra weight. In the end, no one attempts the reform and the system just grows more and more cumbersome.
This brings to light a troubling fact about the modern system that makes the predicament seem rather hopeless indeed. To accomplish anything in today’s system, especially in the case of reform, one must address the problem with his own form of a lobby group, political action committee, or an actual political campaign. One can see the catch here in full view: To fix the ills of the modern system, one must support it and foster its ways, thus exacerbating those ills. To solve the problem, one must become a part of it and thus make it worse.
Given such a paradox, it is no wonder that most people simply stay away from it. Most Americans want nothing to do with the vast bureaucracies that make up our sprawling politico-economic system; they would rather focus on their personal endeavors, their jobs, their families, and so on. Of course, their staying away from the bureaucracy tends to make matters even worse. They are the ones that the system needs most to come in and straighten things out. The more decent persons are repulsed by the system, the more corrupt the system becomes and thus requires their help. The more the system requires their help, the more repulsed they become.
And so the system continues to grow more complex and less stable, and at the same time makes it impossible for anyone to do anything to fix it. It is a self-perpetuating, uncontrollable Juggernaut that can only lead to catastrophe. The irony of our condition brings to mind Doc Daneeka’s assessment of Catch-22 in Joseph Heller’s classic satire, in which one condition leads automatically to its contradiction: “Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn’t, but if he was sane he had to fly them. If he flew them he was crazy and didn’t have to; but if he didn’t want to he was sane and had to.” Likewise, everyone knows that it is irrational to get involved in politics, so, as a matter of course, the rational stay away and only the irrational get involved, thus making government more and more irrational and making it more and more necessary for rational people to get involved to save it. It is some catch, indeed.
* * *
By the same token, there are those who claim that the ever-growing state is simply a necessary evil in the modern world, and that its costs are hardly a dear price to pay for the high standard of living we experience in America today. And no one can deny that Americans are very well off. Regarding conditions in Mexico, Russia, China, and Iran, for example, and even in other first-world nations such as Italy, Spain, and Sweden, one can easily see how much luxury we take for granted here, even in the midst of a deep recession. If, the thought goes, the enormous bureaucracy we call the system is necessary for our standard of living, then it is a price we should be eager to pay.
However reasonable, this is to focus on the standard of living and material luxuries of our culture to the neglect of intellectual and political necessities. It is to say that a comfortable life is more valuable than anything else, even the ability to choose what kind of comforts to enjoy. It is my belief that, if given the choice, most Americans would be willing to give up a little political freedom to guarantee the high standard of living they have grown to depend on. Such is the trade-off that a consumerist culture makes, the assumption being that we must suffer a great reduction in luxuries before we can enjoy full political freedom.
Whether or not we would have to suffer such a reduction, this mentality must be rejected on two counts. First, it is impossible to maintain the kind of deficit spending and debt that our country has incurred. The wealth we have invented to pay for all our luxuries and bailouts must come from somewhere at some point—it cannot just appear ex nihilo, out of thin air. Eventually, the liability will catch up to us and, when it does, there will be no way of meeting that obligation and a great fallout will result. Most people logically believe that such a crash couldn’t happen in their lifetime, so they simply don’t worry about it and instead encourage its perpetuation. Such a mentality is just kicking the can down the road and in the end will lead to much of the suffering we find so unacceptable now. It won’t be in this generation, and possibly not the next, but it will come at some point and it will be cataclysmic.
Second, and more significant, the notion that material freedoms are more important than political freedoms is a fallacy whose importance cannot be stressed enough. Both are essential to human life and prosperity, and neither can be sacrificed for the benefit of the other. The belief that we can simply sacrifice a little political freedom for a wealth of material freedom is a contradiction in fact that amounts to an effort to provide liberty through coercion.
In the end, it cannot be said for certain that we must give up our material freedoms to regain our political liberty. One might well argue that the original goal of modern economics and civilization as a whole was to provide total freedom in both realms, and that gravitation toward one came only as an oversight, not as a necessary consequence. The solution to this problem has yet to be found, and it is unlikely that reform will come before it is. In the meantime, the system will continue to grow, and the people will continue to feed it with their souls.
* * *
To further explain this contradictory state of affairs and to help neutralize it is the purpose of this book. After all, the great towering system that reigns such hegemony over us has reasonable, defensible origins. The catastrophes that loom have been born of a logical progression from the very essence of our political and economic foundations. Understanding those foundations is essential if we seek to understand how they have evolved into the several crises we see throughout the world today.
The metaphor I have used to illustrate our condition is that of the Juggernaut, a term that has many connotations today, not the least of which is specifically suited for our aims. The legend of the Juggernaut originated during Far East travels of fourteenth-century British explorers, who returned with tales of a grand Hindu procession that drew devotees from hundreds of miles away. At the center of the march was a massive 45-foot chariot car that carried the local religious clerics as well as statues of Jagannath, the Hindu god known later as Krishna. With no little embellishment, the fable described how fanatics would throw themselves under the wheels of the towering structure as it passed in order to display their devotion and attain salvation. The more fanatics that threw themselves before the Juggernaut, the bigger and more powerful it became, making it all the more uncontrollable and unstoppable.
The legend was a mix of folktale and political commentary on the wretched condition of the alleged savages. It is not known whether it also served as criticism of the Western Juggernaut then growing in the form of the Holy Roman Empire. Comparisons are inescapable. Nowadays, the legend serves as an allegory of the condition of our own civilization, the Juggernaut being the system and the zealots being the average citizens who so willfully throw themselves under the crushing, moving monstrosity for the salvation that is the easy life.
To find solutions to our various problems, we must first understand what those problems are and how we arrived at them. That story, insightful and fascinating in itself, begins five hundred years ago, when the Holy Roman Juggernaut was at its pinnacle and the notion of Capitalism was just a faint glimmer on the distant horizon.
I. WEALTH
1. Mundus Novus
If the modern era can be defined by a single question, it would be whether or not man is capable of self-government. Of all the ages in history, the question of self-rule has never been asked more often and more sincerely than during the last 500 years. From the expansion westward during the Age of Exploration to the English Civil War, from the Enlightenment and the French and American Revolutions to the rise of Industrialism, the question that continually surfaced was whether men were capable of ruling their own destinies and cooperating with each other in a civil, mutually beneficial way.
The theme is best seen in what might be considered the era’s central event, both chronologically and symbolically—the creation of the United States of America. As Alexander Hamilton stated at the opening of “Federalist No. 1”, the creation of the new nation was a process “to decide the important question, whether societies of men are really capable or not of establishing good government from reflection and choice, or whether they are forever destined to depend for their political constitutions on accident and force.” That is, in short, the story of the modern era, and it can be seen in almost all major developments therein.
Of course, the concept of self-rule has always been a part of the Western tradition, with roots in early Judaism and Christianity, Athenian democracy, and the Roman republic. The Stoics were perhaps the greatest proponents of self-rule, dedicated as they were to discipline and self-control. But it was only in the modern era that the idea of self-governance became a driving force in culture, capable of shaping the hearts and minds of the public at large, guiding customs, and altering social organization altogether. Whereas self-rule had been promoted theoretically and rather disingenuously in the past, now people were willing to put it into practice. It had become compelling and real.
The catalyst for this breakthrough cannot be mistaken. Shortly after 1500, a small book had begun to circulate that included a letter from a little-known naval observer named Amerigo Vespucci. It recounted the recent westward explorations of Christopher Columbus and others, and bore the provocative title Mundus Novus—‘New World’. The words alone ignite the imagination, but what did they mean? To be sure, Vespucci asserted that Columbus had been wrong when he claimed to have reached India on his voyages in the 1490s. According to Vespucci, rather, the islands that Columbus and his men discovered signified a new continent, which had previously been undiscovered and unsettled—it was, in a very real sense, a mundus novus.
Monumental as it stands in retrospect, this was the decisive event of the period, splitting into two distinct parts the age that preceded it and the age that followed. Prior to the discovery, there was Medieval Christendom, faith, feudalism; after, there was modernity, science, Capitalism. An entire culture had suddenly turned itself in a new direction.
This change was especially apparent with regard to the question of self-rule. Prior to the discovery, the question had been settled—men were incapable of self-rule and at least some form of hierarchical government was needed to maintain peace and order. Whence the feudal system of medieval civilization. After the discovery, however, critical doubts began to form about the legitimacy of the system as it stood, and almost as soon as word spread of the discovery of the New World, ideas of Individualism, personal autonomy, and self-governance flooded the Western spirit and forever changed the world.
The Law of the Land
To know why the discovery amounted to so much, it is first necessary to understand what life was like before the pivotal event. And, while it would take a lengthy survey to truly understand Medieval Europe, it is possible to grasp a few broad aspects of the culture here.
Prior to the 16th century, the West was rather fixed. Its social constructs, institutions, and customs were embodied in the monolithic Catholic Church and the Holy Roman Empire, which had dominated the civilization for more than a millennium. These pillars of culture had grown to become as immovable in their places as the earth itself was immovable in the universe, such that even gross corruption and injustice could not disturb their foundation.
In Medieval Europe, the big questions had all been answered, and life was relatively balanced and stagnant. A document dated 1493 expresses the sense of fixity well. In his Nüremberg Chronicle, German scholar Hartmann Schedel declared that the sixth age of man was coming to a close and offered several blank pages to record any notable events that might happen in the last days. The author’s conviction was characteristic of a culture confident in its ways and certain that it comprised all that there was to consider in the world.
There were, of course, many reasons for this dual characteristic of confidence and fixity, but perhaps the most compelling was the limited availability of land. The system, from the church authority in Rome and Constantinople to the various fiefdoms throughout the continent, was based largely on the ownership of land. In medieval times, land was much like money in today’s economy. Everyone needed food, shelter, clothing, and other resources to survive, and one could only satisfy these necessities by possessing and making use of land—by farming crops, harvesting timber, stone, iron ore, and so on. As such, whoever owned land owned competency and so could live and prosper in the medieval economy; whoever did not own land was left at a disadvantage.
Like money today, all efforts were made to secure and maintain land. Owners would hold onto it, seek to acquire more, and pass it down by lineage so as to ensure family possession of the plot. But, by the fifteenth century, all available land had been claimed. Beginning as far back as the third and fourth centuries, in a gradual, organic process, masses of people migrated from the cities of the late Roman Empire and settled throughout the European countryside, filling the continent with settlements.
Not long after this deurbanization took place, the entire countryside had been accounted for, and all available land was controlled. The fact that Medieval Europe was pressed for land could be seen in the Crusades of the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, which were launched in part as a way for Christian kingdoms to expand territorially. Simply, there was no more room on the continent, and so everyone had to make do with what they had.
Naturally, many people were left without possession of the essential soil and thus faced a tough proposition. To obtain competency, they relied on landowners. This resulted in a sort of long-term trade, a lifetime contract in which one would offer labor and services for the ability to live and work on the land with the possibility of becoming an owner himself. Landowners controlled their regions as lords and demanded labor from those who lived on it. The feudal system was born.
Feudal contracts typically took one of two forms based on the owner’s two crucial needs. First, the landowner required military protection. Given the fact that land was scarce, the lord of a dominion lived under constant threat of invasion by rival lords. Similarly, he was always tempted to invade neighboring lands to increase his own holdings. As a result, military was indispensable. Local warriors—vassals or knights, as they were known—could make a contract with the lord to provide military service and protection in exchange for a plot of land in the lord’s dominion for their own use.
Second, the lord required a sizeable contingent of farmers and artisans to live on his land and produce necessary goods like food, clothing, shelter, furniture, tapestries, armor, and so on. Thus, peasants, or serfs, would trade manual labor and agricultural skills for land and protection by the local vassals. Just like the knights, the serfs formed a sort of contract, trading their services for sustenance and security.
Because the land was largely controlled, this system could remain unchanged for an indefinite time. Rarely could a vassal gain enough land to control a significant dominion, nor could peasants readily rise in status and become landowners themselves. For the most part, the lords in power could demand whatever they wanted from their knights and serfs, arranging their contracts in such a way that the lords were benefited to a greater degree than their counterparts. In effect, the lords used their possessions to gain more possessions. Landowners were more or less kings and ruled their dominion with their own laws, which were typically aimed at maintaining the order and hierarchy of the fiefdom.
These days, we would label this a form of exploitation and frown on the whole system for such an obvious denial of freedom. After all, ‘serf’ means ‘slave’. Today, we take for granted the virtues of free choice and democracy and assume that without them life would be worthless. To us, the fact that Medieval Europeans did not embrace these virtues means that they were backward and therefore despicable.
But the brash critic fails to view feudal ways from the medieval perspective. To the average lord, vassal, or even serf, feudalism served as a workable arrangement between men who could provide each other mutual benefit—the lord provided land, vassals provided military support, and serfs and artisans provided food and practical goods. As such, the system was based on mutual need and a bond between men, not tyrannous exploitation.
Certainly, lords would at times exploit their vassals, and vassals would take advantage of their serfs. The infamous Prima Nocta as depicted in the film Braveheart illustrates the kind of exploitation that must have taken place throughout Medieval Europe. Even though the particularly heinous diktat has been proven largely fabricated, there is no reason to doubt that similar abuse did occur.
What is evident, however, is that exploitation, when it did take place, could not have persisted for any extended period of time. Lords needed military service and food production as much as vassals and serfs needed land. Everyone needed everyone else. It was a sort of interlocking puzzle with each piece necessarily holding up the others. Abuse from any one party would be detrimental to everyone, and so there was a natural impulse to limit exploitation. Ultimately, bondage was for all parties, not just the peasants.
In any case, there was no real alternative to such a system, even if it was disagreeable. The kingdoms had been drawn out, and all land had been accounted for. Even if the serfs had mounted an uprising against their oppressors, they wouldn’t have been able to change the geopolitical dynamic in any meaningful way, nor could they flee to the Mediterranean like Spartacus. Hierarchy was a fact of life in Medieval Europe, a fact which hinged on the limited availability of land.
A New Dawn
After 1492, all of that changed. With the discovery of the New World, the limits which had constrained the system were suddenly and irrevocably lifted, and a new way of life dawned in Western Civilization. No longer was power limited to the lord of the dominion, one of a few owners of land and the means of production; as the people of Europe would come to realize, everyone could own land and the means of production, and so everyone could be lord of his own dominion. This simple concept was to be the basis for a new paradigm.
Of course, this revolution in thought did not come about instantaneously. The date 1492 did not mean nearly as much to a Castilian or Portuguese of the time as it does to an American or Brazilian of today. Indeed, the magnitude of Columbus’ discovery was not understood until decades after he first set foot on San Salvador Island. It wasn’t until 1513, for example, when Balboa first crossed the Isthmus of Panama to view the Pacific Ocean, that Europeans could be sure an isolated continent rested between their home and Asia. Not until Magellan circumnavigated the globe in 1522 did anyone know how large the world really was.
And so, as a matter of historical fact, the cultivation of individual autonomy was a long and uncertain process. It took time for the people to understand that the New World was an entirely new continent, and even longer for them to realize that its discovery meant an alternative to their current situation; even then, most were unable to do anything about it. They may have longed to set sail for the Indies in order to make a new life, but had neither the money required for such a voyage nor the connections needed to facilitate it. It would be another 250 years before trans-Atlantic traffic was frequent enough to enable a typical Briton or Spaniard to hop aboard a ship and sail to America.
Still, a liberating force pulling westward was felt immediately throughout the Old World. To be sure, the expansionary push began decades before Columbus had even approached Isabella for his charter. The fall of Constantinople in 1453 meant that trade with the East had been effectively cut off, and Western kingdoms—especially Portugal—grew eager to find an ocean route. In the process, the Portuguese discovered a slew of smaller new worlds—the Cape Verde archipelago in 1456, Sierra Leone in 1460, the Gold Coast in 1471, and the Cape of Good Hope, which was named the Cape of Storms by Bartolomeu Dias in 1488. By the time Vasco da Gama first sailed to India in 1497 to ’99, the sense was that the world was much bigger than had been previously assumed, and that it was somehow up to Western ingenuity to engineer a way to harness it.
After Columbus, there followed a flurry of exploration. Juan Ponce de León reached Florida in 1513, Balboa explored Panama and sighted the Pacific in the same year, and Magellan sailed around the globe between 1519 and ’22. Hernando Cortés led a small army against the Aztecs in Mexico 1519-22, Francisco Pizarro conquered the Incans in Peru in 1532-33, and Pedro de Mendoza founded a colony near modern-day Buenos Aries, Argentina in 1536. Cabeza de Vaca journeyed into the American Southwest in the early-1530s, Hernando de Soto explored the Gulf Coast of Southeast America in the late 1530s, and Vásquez de Coronado discovered the Grand Canyon in 1540.
With all of these expeditions came some amount of settlement and colonization. It is estimated that, by 1520, there were already some 10,000 Spanish-speaking Europeans on the island of Hispaniola alone. Colonial Brazil was established as early as 1500, and the viceroy of New Spain flourished throughout Central and South America starting in 1521.
The influence of the early colonies was evident in Charles V’s attempt to reign in Spain’s increasingly powerful and largely autonomous satellites by establishing the Council of the Indies. His efforts were in vain. The western hemisphere was simply too distant to allow for consistent control and, at the same time, too rich in resources for the colonists to remain dependent on the crown. The consequence was twofold: As the flow of people and energy continued westward, the idea of freedom and self-rule burgeoned with it.
Exploration was a wholly European phenomenon, too, not simply limited to Portugal and Spain. France began expeditions around 1524 under the command of Italian Giovanni da Verrazano. New France dates from 1534 and, at its peak, stretched from modern-day Newfoundland and Northern Canada to Louisiana and the Gulf Coast. British exploration didn’t begin until 1584, when Sir Walter Raleigh commissioned Philip Amadas and Arthur Barlowe to scout what is now the North Carolina coast. Those expeditions ended in failed outposts, but British colonization thrived with the first permanent British settlement was established at Jamestown, Virginia in 1607. The Dutch followed in 1609 with Henry Hudson’s founding of New Netherlands and the city of New Amsterdam, which soon became New York.
The names of the colonies are evidence of the Europeans’ view of the endeavor. Exploration was a way to create their world anew, not simply to extend what had already been established. Everywhere across Europe, eyes turned westward. The discovery, exploration, and colonization of far-off lands stirred spirits and opened up possibilities for all, and the overwhelming sense amid the fervor was that of liberation.
Naturally, the first expeditions were crown endeavors, which meant they required sanction and funding from the royal sovereigns. The trouble Columbus encountered in obtaining a charter was characteristic of the first voyages—he was rejected at Portugal, Genoa, Venice, and twice at Spain before Isabella finally took a chance on him. But, once reports began to trickle in of the New World’s abundance and fertility, everyone with the wherewithal became eager to invest in the prospect. The zeal for kings and queens to establish a presence in the New World meant that, by the mid-sixteenth century, any suitable group that was willing to undertake the adventure would likely be granted a charter. Raleigh’s private capitalization paved the way for independent colonizers from across Europe.
Modern Americans will recognize the fervor experienced during the age of exploration as similar to the kind of enthusiasm witnessed during economic booms such as the dot-com frenzy of the 1990s or the housing boom of the aughts—everyone had to get involved. Perhaps the greatest hindrance to immigration was fear of the hardships of early colonial life. Stories of savages, of hot and humid summers and brutally cold winters, of disease and death, all dampened the spirits of potential immigrants. And yet the opportunity was there for anyone who could bear the adversity of such an adventure, and, as the drawbacks were alleviated over time, it proved increasingly inviting to any individual or group seeking a new life.
The quintessential example was that of the Separatist congregation in England, which sailed to America under the sponsorship of the Plymouth Company. After increasing ecclesiastical scrutiny, as well as constant derision from neighbors, the congregation attempted to migrate from London to the more tolerant Amsterdam. When that settlement failed and the English crown drew up charges on one member of the congregation, William Brewster, the group hastened their search for another alternative. The solution was to form a colony in the New World.
Their story is known to all—the Mayflower voyage, the landing at Plymouth Rock, the first winter and Thanksgiving feast, the arrival of John Winthrop, and the expansion of the colony. At its heart is the idea central to the American culture—a persecuted, oppressed people finding freedom and salvation in America. It is the story of the age. Everywhere across Europe a new vision formed in the minds of men. It was no longer necessary to put up with the faulty and restrictive ways of the Old World. The New World provided an escape, an opportunity to make a new start.
In his “Reasons” for venturing to America, John Winthrop summarized the consensus mindset: “This, Land grows weary of her Inhabitants, so as man, who is the most pretious of all creatures, is here more vile and base then the earth we tread upon. We are grown to that height of intemperance in all excess of riot as no man’s estate almost will suffice to keep sail with his equals; and who fails herein must live in scorn and contempt. Hence it comes that all arts and trades are carried in that deceitful and unrighteous course as it is almost impossible for a good and upright man to maintain his charge and live comfortably in any of them.” In the Old World, life was harsh, restrictive, and corrupt; the New World was the only source of deliverance.
Discovering Utopia
The most fascinating aspect about this revolution is the fact that it was open to everyone, not just those who were willing to make the voyage westward. Even those individuals or groups who had no wherewithal to make the journey to America could rely on the mere prospect of leaving to improve their conditions. As Europeans who stayed behind found that the potential of the New World was alone sufficient to change the attitudes and principles of peasants and artisans as well as nobles and lords. Once the opportunity to migrate westward had been made known, everyone was given a freedom of choice that made it impossible for the existing order of bondage and servitude to persist.
To the Europeans longing for a new life, it did not matter that the New World was ready to be settled or even that it was easily accessible; what mattered most to the Europeans of the age was simply that the New World existed. From that vague starting point, man’s fertile imagination was all that was needed to effect change.
The promise that this new horizon provided to optimistic Westerners can be glimpsed in the literary genre that blossomed in 1516 and flourished throughout the latter half of the sixteenth century—the Utopia. Beginning with Thomas More’s groundbreaking work, which coined the term, the genre eventually came to define a culture coming to grips with the possibilities of an entirely new way of life. Through descriptions of imaginary societies, authors were able to explain the faults of their real-life societies and thereby posit solutions. To the visionaries who engaged in utopian literature, as well as to their readers, the New World not only represented a place where Christendom could grow and prosper, but also a place where new political and social structures could be built.
English translations of the complete title of More’s classic book more fully describe the aim of the idealistic genre: A Truly Golden Little Book, No Less Beneficial Than Entertaining, of the Best State of a Republic, and of the New Island Utopia. Though the notion of designing the perfect society was not invented in the sixteenth century, the practice was given credence only with the opening of the New World.
After Utopia, there followed no fewer than 12 outstanding works in the genre, including Rabelais’ ‘Abbaye de Thélème’ (1534), Lodovico Agostini’s ‘Repubblica immaginaria’ (1583-90), Tommaso Campanella’s City of the Sun (1602), Robert Burton’s ‘Utopia of Mine Own’ (1621), and Francis Bacon’s New Atlantis (1626). Even Shakespeare fell under the utopian spell with The Tempest (1611), in which Gonzalo issues his vision of the ideal society he would like to establish on a remote island. Everywhere, the focus was on doing away with the old, the restrictive, and the oppressive, and producing a new life, ideal and virtuous.
If you suffer your people to be ill-educated, and their manners to be corrupted from their infancy, and then punish them for those crimes to which their first education disposed them, what else is to be concluded from this but that you first make thieves and then punish them? —Utopia, Thomas More (1516)
Reform in this sense began almost as soon as the New World was discovered and affected nearly all aspects of early modern life. The area in which it was most significant and unambiguous was the most important aspect of life at the time—religion. If there was a consistent theme throughout the utopias of the age, it was that of religious practice and toleration. Naturally, religion dominated early modern thought and action, and so it was the centerpiece of the most prominent utopia of all, Martin Luther’s Ninety-Five Theses, a vision of the Church’s fundamental tenets and the basis for the reform needed to achieve them.
The Protestant Reformation was, more than anything, a revolution that led to bloody sectarian wars that lasted no less than a century. At its root, however, was the simple idea that all men should be free to assert their beliefs and live under their own rule—a utopian ideal to be sure. And, like all utopias of the age, the idea could only have come about during the Age of Discovery. Certainly, the Reformation had many causes, most of which had been brewing in the Western mind for centuries. But only when the possibility of Utopia was introduced with the discovery of the New World could the revolution gain the energy necessary to move forward.