Socialism Begins at Home

 

“Everyone wants to be FREE!” Do they?

A while back I was talking to a young woman who’d run away from home when she was 16.

“Why did you run away?” I asked her.

“Because I wanted to be free,” she answered. And after a moment added:

“Everyone wants to be free.”

Do they? I wonder.

Like this woman, I ran away from home when I was 16 — because I wanted to be free. Mumbledy-mumble years later I’ve come to the conclusion that most people don’t want to be free; and that the whole question of freedom, the entire issue of freedom is as much psychological as it is intellectual, economic, or political—if not more.

“Everyone wants to be free?” I disagree; I think only a minority of people really want to be free.

When we talk about freedom, the majority of people talk about free markets.

When we talk about freedom, the majority of people talk about free markets. Economics, in other words. Or, like Milton Friedman, we talk about the freedom to choose in all parts of our lives; extending the concept to social freedom. Or like Ayn Rand, about what freedom means philosophically and politically. All this talk about freedom is intellectual in nature. And as an intellectual issue, the evidence is clear and indisputable. Freedom works. Freedom puts more bread on the table, brings greater opportunities for intellectual growth and personal happiness than any other kind of social organization. There can be no dispute about this . . . with the collapse of communism, the dispute is now about how much freedom there should be.

So: why aren’t people free? And more importantly, why aren’t people the world over demanding to be free?

We can find the answer, I believe, in psychology; not in economics or philosophy.

 

What IS Socialism?

The Britannica Encyclopedia defines socialism as a

“…social and economic doctrine that calls for public rather than private ownership or control of property and natural resources. According to the socialist view, individuals do not live or work in isolation but live in cooperation with one another. Furthermore, everything that people produce is in some sense a social product, and everyone who contributes to the production of a good is entitled to a share in it. Society as a whole, therefore, should own or at least control property for the benefit of all its members.”

A definition that doesn’t seem very different from Karl Marx’s communism.

In reality, “society as a whole” does not rule a socialist state. The ruler(s) are either the elected “representatives” sitting in parliament or congress, or the self-appointed dictators as in China, Russia, North Korea, and many other of the world’s governments.

In practice, the government of whatever stripe “own[s] or at least control[s] property [supposedly] for the benefit of all its members.”

Socialism has a psychological base: the expectation that you will be looked after by someone else.

But socialism also has a psychological base: the expectation that you will be looked after by someone else. More specifically: the government.

Another way to put it is that whenever there is a problem, a majority of people in a society expect the government to solve it.

Let me give you an example: I was sitting in a cafe in Brisbane, Australia during the height of the COVID pandemic. At the next table there were four people talking about what the government had done, and what it should have done.

The unanimous consensus was that all the state and federal governments’ actions—lockdowns, requiring masks to be worn, forcing people to work from home, (or not work if they couldn’t do so from home), closing interstate borders, restricting or banning overseas travel (depending on the country—including banning Australians from coming home), requiring proof of vaccination—in some cases, for just going to a restaurant (where “social distancing” rules were in effect)—were appropriate.

Every single one of those four people agreed that although governments had done the right things, they had not acted fast enough, and added a laundry list of other things governments should have done, but hadn’t.

Not once did any of these four people suggest that there was something that their fellow citizens (including themselves) could or should have done to protect themselves.

Which is not, of course, to say that they did not act self-responsibly, but it was clear that every one of them was a socialist in the sense that they looked to governments rather than themselves to solve any problem.

A socialist state cannot exist in a society where the overwhelming majority of people are fiercely independent.

A socialist state cannot exist in a society where the overwhelming majority of people are fiercely independent and refuse to be ruled. As was the case in the United States as depicted by Alexis de Tocqueville in his Democracy in America, published in 1835.

No longer applicable, sad to say.

As of today, the USA is (like most first-world countries) what’s termed a “mixed economy”: partly capitalist (free) and partly socialist (dependent).

 

The Basic Appeal of Socialism: Security

Security is a human need. And there are basically two places you can find that security: inside, or outside. A person who looks for security outside him or herself is dependent; a person who finds that security and certainty inside is independent.

The independent person is self-confident, self-reliant, and exceedingly comfortable just living inside his or her own skin.

The dependent person seeks security from others.

Many of us formed our intellectual beliefs about the world by the time we were teenagers.

Many of us formed our intellectual beliefs about the world by the time we were teenagers. But we became dependent or independent, psychologically, about the time we were five years old, if not before. And usually we were psychologically dependent.

Yes, someone can be a libertarian intellectually, a believer in capitalism and freedom, but remain dependent psychologically. For example, many people came to believe in the ideas of freedom from Ayn Rand, but viewed her, psychologically, as a guru.

An adult who is psychologically dependent will seek security in gurus, in drugs, in religion, in a partner, in a Fuhrer . . . in government. Politically, that person will demand to be looked after by somebody — anybody — and will tend to choose political beliefs of a socialist nature.

As parents, we all want our children to grow to be happy, healthy and successful. As libertarian parents, we want them to believe that freedom, socially, is a virtue . . . but do we really want them to be free?

If we want them to adopt our intellectual values, we can give them books to read; send them to schools where they’ll be taught those values; take them to North Korea to show them the difference. All that may convince them . . . intellectually.

If we want them to be truly free — psychologically independent — we have to begin at birth.

By treating them as people — as a distinct, individual human being — from the very moment they emerge from the womb.

With the respect that we would give to a capable adult.

Years ago, I heard American psychiatrist Peter Breggin tell a story about his 6-week-old son.

My son can communicate, [said Breggin], “but he can only say one word: “No.” Or more generally, “I’m in some kind of discomfort”—though not, of course, being able to communicate exactly what kind of discomfort. It’s our job as parents to listen to what he is saying, to understand him. And if you listen to a six-week old baby, you’ll find there are different cries for “I’m hungry,” and “Hey you, my nappy needs changing,” and “Please turn me over. I’m fed up with lying on my back looking at the ceiling.”

Breggin wrote a wonderful book, The Psychology of Freedom, which I highly recommend if you want to pursue this subject.

Some very interesting research is being done into the structure of the brain.

In different people function Y will be performed in different parts of the brain.

You know that everybody has different fingerprints, except for identical twins. Well, scientists are discovering that everybody’s brains are structured differently. And if we could take brain-prints instead of fingerprints, everybody’s brain-print would be different, totally individual, including those of identical twins. We are learning that the structure of the brain is not pre-determined in the sense that location X is the place where function Y is always performed. In different people function Y will be performed in different parts of the brain. It can depend, for example, on how the brain grew, on what area of the brain was available when a particular need appeared.

There’s another wonderful book called Bionomics by Michael Rothschild — and you may think I’m digressing here, but I assure you I’m not. Economics is rightly called the dismal science — much of it is so boring. Or, as Ayn Rand puts it, the banner of the free market is not one that draws people to man the barricades. In my opinion, Bionomics could do for economics what Marilyn Monroe did for Playboy magazine . . . it makes economics not just interesting but fascinating. Rothschild shows, by analogy from biology, that capitalism is right, not that capitalism is morally correct, but that capitalism is simply the natural, evolutionary order of things because that’s how we, as human beings, are.

To me this, combined with the latest research on the structure of the brain implies that everybody is different biologically . . . that individualism is biologically ordained as the natural political — and philosophical — order.

So when should we start treating our children as individuals? Obviously, at birth — at which time their brain is the most highly developed part of their bodies.

Any mother can tell you that her children were different people from the very day they were born; behaved in different ways. Often they’ll put it in a disrespectful way, you know . . . Sammy was less trouble than Jane, or more trouble. But they’ll notice the difference.

And for those of you who aren’t parents, consider this: you could have a dozen babies scrabbling around on the floor while their mothers are on the other side of the room, talking no doubt. Suddenly, one baby cries. Instantly, twelve mothers will come to attention, to full alert. After just a moment, eleven of them relax . . . it’s not my baby. A baby’s cry — like an adult’s voice — is individual.

Let’s examine the family unit — the collective that’s so beloved of conservatives — psychologically and politically. What, for example, is most children’s first lesson in social organization?

When little Johnny has his friends around to play, what is he told to do?

Share your toys!

Be a good boy, be a good girl, share your property with whatever snotty-nosed kid walks into our house today!

What principle of social organization is little Johnny learning? The parent, of course, wants the child to be nice to these other children; or possibly appear well-behaved to her friends, the parents of these other children. But why shouldn’t every child have the same right you do, to choose who to be nice to? And I should point out that being nice is entirely different from the issue of whose property are the toys.

Property rights, individual rights, are the legal and moral foundation of the free society. If you believe in freedom, what would you rather teach in your home: capitalism? Or socialism? And as we’ll see, the important issue in relation to children is not what you say — it’s what you do.

What would property rights in the home mean?

And here we need to face an important issue: property rights aren’t natural. A child’s (and too many adults’) attitude to property rights is: “What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine.”

Here I’ll give you just one illustration.

Leon Louw — who founded the Free Market Foundation in South Africa — illustrated the difference to me with a story about his daughter Katy.

At that time she was just three years old. One day she came up to him with a picture book and said: “Daddy, is this my book?” Leon answered, “Yes, of course it’s your book.” “Then can I tear it up?”

Leon and his wife Frances — authors of Super Parents Super Children — applied property rights as the basis of their social organization within the family. Leon also loves books: to destroy a book, to him, is a form of sacrilege. So his daughter had him, right? Children are very perceptive, and very honest. Have you ever wondered why, as adults, we’ve lost these talents we all had when we were very young?

Consider what property rights mean: if you own something, then you have the right to do with it anything you like. Anything at all, including to trash it, to destroy it. If you’re serious about teaching your children something, then you have to follow through with all the implications. To do anything less is to teach them to value either hypocrisy, or the opposite of what you wish them to learn.

So how did Leon answer? He launched into a long lecture about the value of books, about the knowledge, the wisdom, the joy to be found in the printed word. And if you’ve ever heard him talk you’ll know that Leon can captivate your attention almost indefinitely.

His daughter listened attentively and when he had finished said: “Daddy, is this my book?” Leon answered, “Yes.” “Then can I tear it up?”

Leon talked again at length about the value of books and why they should be preserved. Notice that he did not use force. His daughter listened, and when he had finished repeated: “Daddy, is this my book?” Leon answered, “Yes.” “Then can I tear it up?”

Leon had run out of words . . . all he could say was: “Yes.” And much to his anguish, she proceeded to tear up the book one page at a time . . . right in front of him!

Afterwards, they both had a great time gluing the book back together again.

Leon acted with integrity and congruence — ultimately, the characteristics of a good parent — of a good person. Integrity and congruency mean there is no difference between words and deeds. What would Katy have learnt if her father had said: “Yes, it’s your book but no you cannot tear it up”? Adults will merely note the hypocrisy. . . if they’re not blinded to it altogether; children will model the real meaning, the behavior, and ignore the words. As adults, we have to be reminded that actions speak louder than words. Children are aware from the beginning of the two languages we all speak — the language of words, and the language of the body, of actions.

My other pet peeve is the magic word, please.

Is “I won’t” an acceptable answer?

The child will model your real meaning of your use of the word.

Because if it’s not, you’re not really saying “please” at all. You’re giving an order — another, very common example of form versus substance; or appearance versus reality. And the child will model your real meaning of your use of the word.

When you say “please” to an adult, you’re asking a favor. You respect an adult’s response because you recognize him or her as a person with free will.

So why are you not respecting and validating your child’s free will?

Because if you don’t that child might leave home when he or she turns 16—without telling you where he or she can be found.

 

We All “Inherit” Our Parents’ “Buttons”

As children, we all model — or copy — our parents’ behaviors at the very deepest level. As an example from the 1990 annual meeting of the American Psychological Association demonstrates:

By 3 months of age, [Tiffany] Fields says, infants of depressed mothers developed their own brand of ‘depressed’ behavior, characterized by their lack of smiling and a tendency to turn the head away from the mother and adults. [REMEMBER: 3 MONTHS OLD] These babies become more upset when they look at their mother’s unresponsive face than when they see her leave the room.

I can relate to that myself.

How do you react to anger?

Fight or flight, right?

My father was quick to anger. And when god speaks you shrivel.

Which is exactly what I did for years. Until one day, when I was about 16 (and taller), I did fight back. Dad was totally shocked.

By then, though, that behavior was firmly “installed” in my subconscious–and I passed it on to some of my kids.

One Chinese New Year, when I was living in Hong Kong and my daughters were very young, I took them down to the harbor to watch the fireworks. I figured a great place to watch those fireworks was in the elevated car park at the Star Ferry.

A police officer happened to walk by as we took our positions, and told us to move somewhere else.

Both my daughters reacted with fear, and became even more fearful when I started arguing with the cop.

What, you might wonder, has this to do with socialism?

In the case of anger, the answer is simple: when someone in authority expresses anger to you, you shrivel.

You obey.

And someone who is ready to obey every authority figure without questions will fit perfectly into a socialist society.

Behaviors of this kind have been passed from parent to child to great-great-great-grandchild for thousands of generations. It’s only now, with the development of psychotherapy, that it’s possible (though FAR from easy!) for us to break the molds that were cast thousands of generations ago.

 

Birth Order

Birth order can also be an important factor in a child’s development.

The easiest way to see birth order “in action” is when you see a family with two or more young kids in a mall or supermarket. The oldest one is obvious: he or she is the tallest. You won’t have to wait long to see that oldest child ordering the younger ones around. Like a “deputy parent,” following Mother’s and Father’s behaviour.

When child #2 arrives, both children compete for their parents’ attention. Child #2 has to adopt a different strategy from his or her older sibling.

Obviously, a one- or two-year old is not making a logical selection. Like: “Well, big brother has decided to be “deputy parent.” So I’ll figure out something else. Hmmm—which one?”

Rather, the younger one happens to do something that works—and adopts that behavior.

In one family I know, “Big Sister” is deputy parent, while baby brother discovered, by pure chance, that he can make his parents laugh. So he became the family jester.

As adults, “deputy parents” are psychologically fitted to be rulers. Whether in their family—or in government.

 

The Structure of the Family

Consider the “political” organization of the family. Let’s face it, it’s a totalitarian dictatorship. There’s no other way to describe it, is there? But it’s actually worse than that.

How does a 5-year old view his or her parents? As gods. Mother and Father are omnipotent, omnipresent, all-knowing, all-powerful. Whether they’re benevolent, kindly and loving gods; whether they rule by fear or even terror — or perhaps even worse switch unpredictably between the two modes, kindly and loving one minute, full or anger and rage the next, which means of course the child lives in state of constant insecurity, never knowing how Mother and Father is going to react the next moment . . . to a five year old they’re still gods. And whatever god says and does is true, is it not?

An extract from Honoring the Self by psychologist Nathaniel Branden illustrates this issue better that I can.

I recall discussing this issue one day with the distinguished family therapist Virginia Satir, who gave an exquisite and appalling illustration of the kind of craziness with which so many of us grow up. Imagine, she said, a scene among a child and mother and father. Seeing a look of unhappiness on mother’s face, the child says, “What’s the matter, Mummy? You look sad.” Mother answers, her voice tight and constricted, “Nothing’s the matter. I’m fine.” The father says angrily: “Don’t upset your mother.” The child looks back and forth between mother and father, utterly bewildered and unable to understand the rebuke. He begins to weep. The mother cries to father: “Now look what you’ve done.”

Let us look at this scene more closely. The child correctly perceives that something is bothering mother and responds appropriately. Mother acts by invalidating the child’s [correct] perception of reality. Perhaps she does so out of the desire to ‘protect’ him, perhaps because she herself does not know how to handle her unhappiness. If she had said, ‘Yes, I’m feeling a little sad right now, thank you for noticing,’ she would have validated the child’s perception.

By acknowledging her own unhappiness simply and openly, she would have reinforced the child’s compassion and taught him something profoundly important concerning a healthy attitude toward pain. Father, perhaps to ‘protect’ mother, perhaps out of guilt because mother’s sadness concerns him, rebukes the child, adding to the incomprehensibility of the situation. If Mother is not sad, why would a simple inquiry be upsetting? And why should it be upsetting in any event? The child, feeling hurt and helpless, begins to cry. Now mother screams at father, implying that she does not approve of what he has done in rebuking the child. Contradictions compounded, incongruities within incongruities. How is the child to make sense out of the situation?

The child may run outside, frantically looking for something to do or someone to play with, seeking to erase all memory of the incident as quickly as possible, repressing feelings and perceptions. And if the child flees into unconsciousness to escape the terrifying sense of being trapped in a nightmare, do we blame his well-meaning parents for behaving in ways that encourage him to feel that sight is dangerous and that there is safety in blindness?

An ordinary story, without villains. No one is likely to imagine that the parents are motivated by destructive intentions. But in choosing to deny simple reality, they give the child the impression that he exists in an incomprehensible world where perception is untrustworthy and thought is futile.

And I should add, to make sense out of this nightmare most children will suppress their own perceptions, deny the validity of their own senses, and learn to mistrust their own minds.

Who are they to argue with God?

And so they replace their perceptions of reality with the perceptions of their parents, living in a state of perpetual insecurity as they try to second-guess mother’s and father’s terrifyingly unpredictable moods. And when they grow up, they continue to seek some other, external authority whose perceptions of reality can replace those of their parents . . . a guru, a government, a leader. They’ve been turned from the self-assertive, sometimes terrifyingly honest state that is natural to every child into . . . a follower.

To appreciate how issues like these may still affect us as adults, I invite you to do a little experiment.

First, recall how you addressed your parents. Mum, Mom, Dad, Mummy, Daddy, Mother, Father, in whatever language you normally use. Then imagine they are standing in front of you, and notice how you feel when you say “hullo” to them. “Hi Mum. Hi Dad.”

When I do that it feels normal to me. Right.

I’d like you to imagine yourself addressing your parents by their first names.

But your parents have names, first names. I’d like you to imagine yourself addressing your parents by their first names, “Hullo . . .” and put in your mother’s first name, “Hullo . . . ” with your father’s first name.

How does that feel? How different, perhaps strange, does it feel to address your parents by name rather than title?

For me it feels weird. And uncomfortable.

I did this exercise once with a 65-year-old man whose parents were both long dead. He stuttered for about five minutes, totally unable to utter either of his parents’ first names to the memory-image in his own mind. That’s how deep these issues can run.

You see, when we say Mum and Dad, we’re not addressing a person, we’re addressing a relationship. And for the child within us, we’re talking to god — and nobody’s on first name terms with god.

What’s more, said American psychologist Nathaniel Branden, on average 65% of people have one parent disapprove of their being successful; while an incredible 85% have one parent disapprove of their being deeply in love; and half of all people — 50% — have both parents disapprove of their being truly in love.

Do you think these attitudes of your parents that you hold within you do not affect your behavior now?

What kind of messages might you be giving your children . . . subconsciously?

 

“I’m the Boss of Myself”

Leon Louw told me another story about another of his daughters — one of his own favorites. Then aged around 6, she was playing in their living room with a group of her friends. All the girls agreed that they would stay that night at Julie’s house — Julie being one of the girls there — and suddenly one of the girls started crying.

“What’s wrong?” the other girls asked.

Tearfully she said: “I’ll have to ask my mummy if I can stay and she’ll say no.”

Leon’s daughter responded: “I don’t have to ask my Mummy because I’m the boss of myself.”

“I’m the boss of myself” . . . doesn’t that really sum up the entire issue of freedom, psychologically?

If you want your children to be free, how can you teach them to be the boss of themselves?

It’s your behavior that you need to change.