“Toby! Toby! Where are you? Come here Toby!”

Toby was standing in the driveway of his family’s home gauging the wind speeds that morning by staring at the tops of a nearby stand of white pines. This meant he was close enough to hear his mother’s cries even with the windows closed. As was often the case, Mrs. Pelgren’s plaintive and desperate pleas were unrelenting once they started.

“Toby! I can’t do this alone. Come here, Toby! I need you!” Toby pivoted and slower than usual went for the side door of the house which let him into the kitchen where his mother was sure to be.

What is it this time?, he wondered. Something to do with his father most likely. Toby’s dad now required custodial care that was reaching the point beyond which Toby and his mother could competently manage. But the Pelgren’s, being who they were, did not consider obtaining additional care providers. Their situation was to be endured collectively, despite the burden each family member underwent individually.

“Yes, Mom?”

“Please sit down Toby before you go running off somewhere again,” Mrs. Pelgren said. “I need to talk to you.”

Toby sat obediently knowing more was about to be asked from him.

“I can’t do it all with your father, Toby. It’s just too much! Mrs. Pelgren looked at her son with her signature pained expression — the facial feature she seemed to wear most often nowadays.

“I know it’s difficult, Mom. You know I do what I can to help out Dad and I’ll do more as I have the time.”

“I hope so dear. I really hope so. It’s so tough. He needs so much. There is never enough time for me to do the things I need to do.” Mrs. Pelgren’s eyes became moist.

“I know Mom.” He did not like to see his mother in this state, but Toby knew he couldn’t change things. He stood up to go out to his car. He needed to get away from the house and his parents. As he walked behind his mother to get to the door he kissed her on top of her head.

Toby set the canoe into the river downstream about a half mile from where the river began to serve as a drain for the lake near the village. This stretch of the river required patience on the part of anyone hoping to navigate any kind of boat. True, a kayak would be more maneuverable when weaving in and out of the tangle of low-hanging boughs and half fallen trees that punctuated this wooded portion of the river. But Toby didn’t want to fish from a kayak. He grew up fishing with a canoe, was comfortable fishing with a canoe, and that was that.

Practice allowed Toby to zig and zag and work his way to the opening of a pond that was not too far downstream and which was cut off from houses and people due to its being surrounded by impenetrable wetland and the rough surrounding woods leading up to it. These same conditions made back casting during the summer in this small pond nearly impossible, so Toby decided to try wading.

Given the lack of rain ten days prior the water depth was manageable for his waders and he knew from past experience that the muck on the bottom in certain spots would not be too gummy. Toby was particularly excited to use some caddis flies his friend Dave had made. With the boat secure Toby waded in from the pond’s edge and spent the next three hours catching several 10-inch brook trout.

As Toby stood thigh-deep into the water of the still pond his mind vacillated between two states of awareness. One sensitivity involved being absorbed by the nature encircling him. The natural world and God were one and the same for Toby. There was no distinction. The shimmering light, the temperature of the water, the songs of birds, and countless other ambient expressions of nature at this time and in this space felt like caresses from the Creator.

The other impression occupying his consciousness was the seduction of fantasy. There were several at play. But they were all variations on a theme. They entailed Toby moving through life with confidence, finesse, and joy in his heart. Actions played out in locations that were imaginary — a reflection of his disdain for rootedness and routine.

Flipping between these mental states left Toby confused and imbalanced. It often did.

It happened again. Toby was in that place where he was too alert to nap, but to fatigued to function. He knew from experience that if he gave himself enough time he may eventually grab an hour or so of shut eye.

What intruded his thinking that afternoon was one of his reoccurring thought obsessions. Toby first read about this incident in one of the boy adventure books his grandmother used to give him at Christmas when he was younger. This book, the title of which was now long forgotten, consisted of a collection of tales meant to capture the interest and imagination of boys, who of course, liked risky and hazardous escapades. Perhaps Toby’s grandmother felt he needed a prod or two in that direction.

The yarn which struck Toby hard when he first read it at about age ten and which now was keeping him from sleeping was that of the wreck of the Monica Hartery. The Monica Hartery had been a seventy-three foot coasting schooner built in 1927 in Newfoundland and was being used by its owner at the time of its demise in 1933 as a trading vessel in and around the coast of Newfoundland.

In December of that year the Monica Hartley had sailed from Channel, Port aux Basques, Newfoundland to North Sydney, Nova Scotia to pick up a load of Cape Breton coal. The ship carried a crew of five.

After the coal was loaded, nasty winter weather set in. It delayed the departure of the Monica Hartery for several days. The crew members, all of whom ranged in age from 28 to 32, were anxious to set sail for Channel, Port aux Basques so they could be home for Christmas. Despite the continuing bad weather the impatient crew left North Sydney on December 23.

It is known that the night of December 23 and into the early morning hours of December 24 in 1933 the southwest coast of Newfoundland experienced a furious wind and blinding snow. A portion of the schooner’s decking was discovered floating near the entrance of Rose Blanche harbour, some forty-six kilometers to the east of Channel, Port aux Basques, on Christmas Eve. Later that day three bodies were found washed ashore nearby. A fourth was discovered three and half weeks later.

Toby felt so sorry for the lost crewmembers and their families. It seemed so unfair. Injustice disturbed Toby very much. And God was being very unjust on that day in 1933. The men just wanted to get home for Christmas. What kind of God would do such a thing! Toby still pondered the same thought.

Toby picked up the cappuccino for Nellie and a black coffee for himself. He balanced them carefully as he walked to the round high top table in the café where Nellie sat waiting.

“I’m glad I could get you to meet with me today, Toby,” Nellie said. “You’ve been hard to reach lately.”

“Well, you know. There’s work and there’s always stuff to do around my place,” was Toby’s response.

“Oh, yes. Your place. You mean your parent’s place, right Toby?” Nellie tried to make eye contact with Toby as she spoke, but his gaze would not meet hers. He looked downwards instead.

“Yeah, well, our place. I live there too,” said Toby still avoiding Nellie’s eyes.

“When are you going to get out of there, Toby? It’s way past time, don’t you think?”

Toby had feared Nellie would do this if they met for coffee. They had been friends since first grade and they knew each other well. Maybe too well was how Toby felt at that moment.

“It’s not so easy, you know, Nellie. Dad is sick as shit and Mom is going batshit trying to take care of him. I have to be there right now to help out.”

“Yeah, it’s too bad about your dad.” Nellie paused. “But you’re going to have to get of there sometime. You’re not going to be one of those losers whose always living with his parents, are you?”

Toby winced slightly. Nellie noticed. “I’m only trying to help you, Toby.”

Clearly Nellie was being impatient with him. Toby did not like it that she was.

“We’re going over to Jimmy’s shop after work, Toby. How about you coming with us?” It didn’t often happen that the guys Toby worked with would ask him to join them for beers after work.

Toby hesitated before responding. It left just enough time for Larry to quip, “C’mon Toby, drink a beer with us!”

“Sure. Thanks. OK,” Toby stuttered. The invitation left him floating somewhere between grateful and anxious. He knew he should do this. It is healthy and good to interact with others Toby was often told. But social situations almost always left him a bit fearful.

So, the four of them that comprised the crew of Don’s Landscaping hopped into their pick-ups and went over to Jimmy’s garage, which served as a tinkering workshop for many of Jimmy’s crafty hobbies and also as a man cave where beers were drunk and cigarettes and joints were smoked.

After his second Bud Light Toby knew he had had enough, but as was often the case at times like these he wasn’t quite sure how to extricate himself from the gathering. “Gotta go,” Toby said as he straightened himself up from the folding metal chair.

“But Toby”, said Don. “We want to hear more about what you think, you know about the big stuff. Life. And what it all means. You’re the thinker here. You got your ideas cooking up there. Give us regular guys some of your wisdom.”

Toby was the quiet one at work. He did his tasks silently and rarely got involved with the dramas that always seemed to occupy the other guys. Whenever he did give an opinion on some matter there were winks and nods and comments like, “So, this is what the professor thinks, guys!”

Toby didn’t mean to sound different from the others. He really did want to fit in.

“Sorry, but I got nothing more for you today. Thanks for the beers. See you tomorrow.” Toby walked out of the garage to the sound of three guys shouting, “Awwww!” and laughing loudly.

“OK, Toby!” Don yelled. “Maybe next time!”

Toby’s father was ill. It had been nearly two years since Mr. Pelgren began to display debilitating symptoms. He was devoid of most of his energy. He tried to navigate his thoughts through a sea of brain fog. And he was chronically short of breath.

“Hi Dad,” Toby called out as he entered the living room walking by the dusty old recliner where his father most often slumped.

“Hi son,” Mr. Pelgren said.

The sun was rising. The television was on. Domestic details were all in their place that morning, including poor old Mr. Pelgren in his chair.

“Do you want me to take you for a drive today after work, Dad?”

Mr. Pelgren angled his head ever so slightly in Toby’s direction. “Maybe, Toby. Let’s see how I’m doing then, OK?”

“Sure, Dad. We’ll see how you’re doing then.”

Mr. Pelgren returned to staring at the TV with his now typical blank and absent glare. Mr. Pelgren’s gaze told Toby that his father did not comprehend a thing going on with the television program. But Toby also picked up on the fact that his dad did not seemed distressed or in pain. He was just there. Not comatose, but also not animated. I guess this is a good thing, Toby thought.

“See you, Dad. Gotta go to work.”

“Bye, Toby.”

Mr. Pelgren knew he was dying. Every element of his reality was colored by that fact.

Toby liked his alone time. He did not exclaim to others that he liked to be by himself. Everyone who knew Toby simply knew he preferred to be solitary.

There were spaces in the woods near his home that he had discovered as a boy and which he returned to often even as a young adult. These were among his places of solitude where Toby went when he needed to feel more grounded.

That sense of being rooted, of being stable, was far too elusive for Toby. What with work at Don’s Landscaping and the constant pressures coming from his parents combining to drain him of not just his energy but of his soul, Toby desired respite. The woods gave him peace. The towering pines and oaks were his sentries and his angels protecting him and providing comfort.

During the week passed, Toby tried to get along with people as he did most times, but much of the effort left him more spent than usual. So on this day, Toby walked along his trail, one he had trod enough over years to establish as his path, ushering him to the cliff.

The cliff was a granite outcrop shaped perfectly by the glacier which had scraped and shaped this land ten-thousand years ago. It was a forty-foot drop from the precipice to its base, which is where Toby built a campfire site of ringed stone about fifteen years prior. Beside it he placed a log he had found, which held a divot just right for him to sit on.

Toby did not light a fire that day. Instead he sat still scrutinizing the beech and poplars and maples nearby. He was restless. He felt it and examined the feeling as if on high looking down on himself, detached and disembodied. Toby thought that if he could just see the true cause of his anxiety, then he could somehow effect his emotions — make them more positive, more enlightened.

Despite his mental exertions, his unpleasant and restive mood remained. So, Toby just let the rustling of the leaves by the gentle breeze and the undertone of bird song wash over him as he continued to stare at the beech and poplar and maple trees.

Nellie called his phone. “Hi Toby! I’m going over to West Leb for some shopping. Want to come with me? I can pick you up.”

“Thanks, Nellie. Yeah. God knows I need to get away.” Here Toby paused. “But Nellie. Don’t be going on about how I need to leave home and strike out on my own and be independent and all of that kind of shit. Can you not be doing that today?”

“Sure. OK. I promise,” Nellie chirped. “You know how I feel about it, but I won’t stress out your fragile mind this afternoon. I’ll be over in about twenty minutes, OK?”

“See you then,” Toby replied.

Toby had known Nellie since they had attended elementary school together. They had been friends ever since. Toby used to get teased by the other boys for having a girl as his best friend, but in his heart Toby could never understand what was wrong with that.

One line Toby and Nellie never crossed was to refer to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend. Neither one of them ever pushed for that designation. They were simply happy to just be friends.

Nellie wanted to buy some clothes and other things that Toby did not pay much attention to. He wandered around the stores Nellie took him to looking at the merchandise with no particular interest in any of it. What caught his eye more was watching Nellie examining this and that as she determined which items to put into her shopping cart.

She has confidence, Toby thought. She doesn’t worry like I do.

Toby saw how Nellie’s countenance was genuine. Her appearance was relaxed. And the natural look on Nellie’s face settled into a slight smile even when there was nothing obvious to be grinning about.

Toby took comfort in observing these traits of Nellie’s. He was glad she had asked him to join her that afternoon. And she did not press him about how he needed to be more autonomous and separate himself from his family. Not once.

Toby could not shake the memory of what had happened back up at the hunting camp on Cooper Hill Road. He was passing the road’s entrance in his truck on the way to a job site. The incident had been four of five years before as best Toby could remember.

A group of fathers from the town, including his own, had taken their sons to do some bear hunting up at a camp some of the dads owned jointly. Toby did not want to hunt black bears, but his dad did, and Mr. Pelgren wanted Toby to join him.

One thing about the experience that began to grate on Toby’s nerves early on was when he observed a few of the men and lads baiting bears with old junk food from the town’s general store. It was stuff like stale Drakes Ring Dings and Devil Dogs and expired Hostess Twinkies. It seemed to Toby cheap and lazy and unfair to “hunt” bears that way.

Sure enough, Tim’s dad, Mr. Thurston, shot an adult black bear which sported a thin white crest on the side of its neck. He strung it up back at the camp for everyone to see. Mr. Thurston called for the boys to gather around, so he could demonstrate how to butcher the bear.

When time came around for Mr. Thurston to slit open the bear’s gut out fell bile-covered Drake’s Ring Dings, Devil Dogs, and Hostess Twinkies. Most of the junk food was still enclosed in its packaging.

All of the boys and some of the fathers laughed. Toby looked around him in disgust and his mind was suddenly transported to a state he rarely dwelt in.

“This isn’t funny!” Toby snapped. “This isn’t real hunting. It’s fucken’ gross!”

Everyone stared at Toby. Mr. Pelgren looked toward the ground.

“Hey, Pelgren,” Mr. Thurston called to Mr. Pelgren. “Your kid’s got a big mouth! If you don’t have the stomach for this Toby, look away.” The snide use of the word “stomach” made the guys laugh again. Mr. Pelgren looked up at his son with consternation, if not alarm. He knew this was not going to end well.

The next morning a note was found by Toby pinned to the cabin door of the room he was sharing with his father. It read, “Ur not wanted. Go hom.”

Toby and Mr. Pelgren left the hunting camp and the boys and their dads and went home. They were never invited back to the hunting camp.

It was one of those nights.

Toby laid awake in the dark of the bedroom he had had for as long as he could remember. The house had a deafening silence. Toby did not know what time it was. Three or four in the morning? He didn’t know and it didn’t matter. He was wide awake. A dream had awakened him. That he was sure of. But what the dream was about he did not know. He was left only with impressions and feelings, mere remnants, no clearly recalled details.

Toby propped himself up in bed and did not turn on the light deliberately so that he could more easily let his emotions flow through him. He had enough experience with his own style of emotional reflection to know to not fight his feelings or suppress them when they were potent enough to awaken him. His sentiments were guideposts, signs of changes to come.

That night he recognized anxiety, fear, and uncertainty. He also discerned anticipation — a type of expectancy which helped to smooth the rough edges of his more agitated feelings. These sensations were conspicuous enough, but for this night anyway, they did not carry the force to develop into some kind of actionable plans.

Instead, Toby sat in bed and in the dark suspended in what was like an ether consisting of part imagination and part objective reality. He communed with his demons and gave thanks to his angels while floating there. The wait until first light seemed to take forever. It often did.

As Mr. Pelgren declined, Mrs. Pelgren grew increasingly agitated. The combination made the Pelgren home insufferable. Toby knew what he could control and what he could not control. The circumstance he found his parents in he could not control. Realizing the lack of command he had gave him some degree of ease in an otherwise unbearable situation.

If Toby’s father understood or accepted his fate he did not let others, especially the members of his family, know about it. His energy and self-control lessened as his sullenness and despondency grew.

“How are you doing today, Dad?” was Toby’s typical line of greeting to start each day.

A grunt with flat affect was the usual reply.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.”

“Yeah, well I’m sorry to.”

“Want to go for a ride today?”

“And have me shit up your truck seat again?”

“I’ll cover it proper this time.”

“No. I don’t think so.”

After a couple of minutes of silence except for the blaring television Toby asked, “I’m going to turn down the TV, alright Dad?”

“I don’t care.”

Toby lowered the volume. Mr. Pelgren stared at the television screen unmoved. The repeats of old shows from the seventies played on while Toby and his dad sat quietly. Toby felt trapped and sorry for his father and mother at the same time.

Mrs. Pelgren sat quietly by herself at the kitchen table gnawing on a fingernail and looking worried.

Loneliness was far from an all encompassing experience for Toby. He rarely felt lonesome. However, today was different. Toby wanted to be with Nellie. He wanted to be near her self-reliance and her serenity.

Toby texted her. -Hey, wass up?

-I’m trying to figure out this sewing machine.

-Sewing machine? What sewing machine?

-One my Grannie had.

-So, ur starting to sew?

-Yeah. Thinken about it.

-Since when?

-Since I decided to sew. -Did you text me for a reason?

-I want to hang out with you.

-OK. Come over. -I’m gonna stay with this machine though.

-OK. See ya soon.

By late that evening Nellie and Toby could stitch together two pieces of old fabric on Nellie’s Grannie’s sewing machine. They smiled at each other enjoying the thought that they had done something new together.

When Nellie hugged Toby goodnight at her kitchen door as he was leaving she kissed his left cheek. This was an unusual thing for Nellie to do. Toby liked it. A lot.

It was a Saturday morning in winter. The snowbanks on the side of Route 4A were still white and not yet showing the grime of late winter.

Toby was driving his truck, but he had no destination. This was a fantasy drive. That is what Toby called these drives when he just wanted to let his imagination expand unhindered. On that day, Toby’s mind was conjuring possible places he could be aiming for as destinations as he drove his truck.

He was envisioning places far away. Locations he saw on YouTube videos or on the several travel sites he liked to scan.

Toby first pretended to be going to Door County, Wisconsin. He remembered seeing a picture of a restored red pick-up truck parked against a blue painted barn with white trim. An apple tree was nearby. The picture made him feel peaceful. So he wanted to be in Door County.

From there he would drive north in Wisconsin and connect with U.S Route 2 heading west. He saw himself traveling across northern Minnesota trying to find the headwaters of the Mississippi River.

Toby’s next make-believe was of him feeling free and untethered driving mile after mile on Interstate 10 in Texas. He would explore the hill country west of San Antonio.

Finally, he pictured himself in Indiana parking his truck beside a cornfield just before its harvest. In his daydream he walked deep into the field of cornstalks, all of them taller than he was. He visualized becoming fearful that he would be lost amongst all that tall corn.

In the evening, he would feel content sitting alone in his motel room with his only task being to figure out where he was going to drive the next day.

I do not go out of my way to engage in political discourse with others as much as I used to when I was younger. This is especially true for people I do not know well. That said, my political radar is always up when interacting with people I have recently met by assessing their comments in an attempt to discern their political leanings. It’s a bad habit, perhaps, but that is the way it is with me. I like to size people up.

One such instance arose during the 2020 election season. A hard working builder, who was excellent at what he did and who I grew to respect, worked for us on a project we undertook for a couple of months. One day, he and I were chatting during one of his work breaks. I do not remember his exact words, but the clear message was that on the topic of Covid leadership, President Trump was doing a good job and he deserved to be reelected.

Any resistance to not respond dissolved in one, or maybe it was one and a half seconds. I retorted with something like, “The way I see it is that the guy was lucky to have been given about three years with blue skies and fair seas and no major crises to deal with. He gets his first major challenge and he clearly is blowing it.”

I was looked upon with a touch of seriousness and surprise. We quickly learned we were on opposite sides of America’s gaping political chasm. But all was cool. Neither of us was up for contentious verbal fisticuffs and so we moved on to other topics. However, he let his position rest with a parting comment. “Well, all I know is that I like my freedom.”

Freedom. Beside the right to live, I cannot think of a more commonly valued belief than personal freedom. The right of each individual to live as they choose to is powerfully cherished around the world. And here in the western democracies, it is one of the key driving forces in how we individually and collectively live our lives. I agree with my Trump-endorsing friend — I also like my freedom. A lot.

It becomes easy to conclude that a principle as venerated as freedom is must be unrestrained, fostered, and respected in an unlimited manner by society. If freedom is a good thing, then the more of it there is the better, right? Well, I am enough of a skeptic to think there are limits to virtually everything. If there are universal and supreme moral codes underpinning reality, as espoused by philosophers from ancient times to the present, then I think the number of such ideal forms must make a small list indeed. Beyond these divinely inspired universals it seems to me all other values derived by humans have limitations. Freedom is among them. What follows is my examination of the limits of freedom.

To begin, it is useful to define what I mean by freedom in the political and philosophical sense. Therefore, I define freedom thusly: Personal freedom or individual liberty is the right for each person to decide on their own the course they want to follow to live their lives free from intrusion or coercion by others, whether such constraint comes from government, groups, or individuals. 

I am trying to keep this definition simple and uncomplicated. I also want a working description which is unambiguous and one which I feel is generally agreed upon by most people. This interpretation meets these conditions, I think.

Assuming this definition of individual liberty contains wording commonly agreed to, the question then arises how such a mental construct was formulated. Has humankind always felt a yearning for freedom throughout recorded history or has this value evolved over more recent times? Also, what is at the core of people’s psychology that motivates so many to achieve lives characterized by personal liberty? Anyone reading these words will have lived their entire lives with an understanding, and probably an acceptance of freedom, similar to the way I am describing it. Such familiarity can make us think the concept of freedom as we now know it has always been around. But has it?

A useful exercise to better understand today’s views of freedom is to trace its historical underpinnings. A review of political anthropology yields one strikingly stark fact. Even among the oldest and smallest cultural bands of people there exists evidence of social control of individuals designed to mitigate person-to-person strife. Given the profound challenges of survival from prehistoric times on, cooperative behaviors were deemed necessary, if not crucial, to maintain continuity of the group and its individuals. Historically, group norms appear to hold more valuation than individual liberty. In fact, investigations of pre-historic peoples find these folk viewed families as the more basic human unit, not individuals.

In the history of western thought, we can find Plato expounding on the notion of justice, which it can now be said forms a foundation for the modern concept of freedom. As Plato was wont to do in his writings he presented dialogues, as they are known, in which philosophical instructional discourses are offered. A leading character in many of these dialogues is Socrates, who Plato accepted as a teacher and mentor. Socrates never wrote his teachings, but rather delivered them orally. Thanks to Plato, we know what Socrates taught.

In Plato’s best-known dialogue, The Republic, the theory of justice is raised. Plato, through his leading man Socrates, concludes that justice may be considered in two very different ways, one of higher value than the other. Hence, it is observed that human nature propels people to argue and occasionally fight for what is in their personal interests. This is fine until one is attacked by someone else pursuing their own interests. In other words, humans in their natural state are nothing more than a collection of self-interested units in perpetual competition for resources, which is it hoped, will satisfy their individual desires.

To resolve constant conflict among skirmishing individuals a collective agreement is made by all to live within a set of just rules, thereby reducing conflict and leveling the playing field for each engaging individual. Sounds fair, right? But Plato and Socrates go further to state justice should be more than practical good behavior. Living justly or fairly they claim will result in a person being happy and content, a worthy goal in and of itself. Although it could be said that before agreeing to participate in a just set of rules with their fellow man, the individual was more free to act, but also more at risk of force from others wanting what they had. Raw individual freedom meant living with increased risk of despair and even death.

Once we leave ancient Greece we find that for the next two thousand years or so people in the west largely lived under two forms of social rule, neither one of which valued justice or personal freedom much. Monarchies, a form of totalitarianism at the time, and serfdom were systems under which unequal class-based stratification of people was the norm. The 1% vs. the 99% economic structure we hear about today was commonplace for much of our history. It is hard to say any member of the 99% was very free when the majority of power and wealth resided with the 1%.

As the Renaissance matured into the Scientific Revolution and the Enlightenment beginning in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, new thinking emerged regarding the idea of individual rights. Philosophers who delved into early science began to view the world as mechanistic and ruled by fundamental laws of matter in motion. This Newtonian perspective set the stage for a reexamination of what made nature, and by extension, people tick. As heavenly bodies and objects here on earth are guided by natural laws, then too humans must be compelled and choregraphed to act as they do by predetermined principles.

The English philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679) set the stage for viewing human behavior from this novel mechanistic position during this time. To understand Hobbes’ role in the formation of a right to individual liberty we can begin with his assessment of human nature. Note that Hobbes lived to see first hand the causes and consequences of the English Civil War during the 1640s. This monumental conflict pitted the supporters of the English monarchy, and their King Charles I, against the rising power of the English Parliament led by Oliver Cromwell. Eventually, the Parliamentarians defeated the Royalists establishing England as a republic. However, the fratricide which took place heavily influenced Hobbes’ writing of political theory.

Hobbes observed people similarly to Socrates and Plato in that he agreed they were essentially driven above all else by self-interests. He goes into great detail describing what he calls the State of Nature. Chiefly, Hobbes is saying the only natural authority among people is that of the parent-child relationship. Beyond this primary bond, everyone is in a scramble for getting what they want and avoiding what they do not want — a kind of law of the jungle.

The good news according to Hobbes, is humans proclivity to reason. By way of rational means people can agree to live together civilly. And civil order was a very big deal to Hobbes. Without it, people were little more than anarchical beasts. So given this reality, Hobbes promotes the first systematized Social Contract Theory. To form a civil society, people must first agree that giving up some degree of personal freedom is necessary so that all may thrive in life free of the fear of violent discord. Next, people must also consent to selecting a person or group of people with the authority necessary to enforce the social contract, i.e., a form of governance.

Where Thomas Hobbes loses many people is with his contention that the best type of social contract obliges people to obey the leadership of what calls a sovereign. What he means is a king or queen. Although not a strict Royalist during the Civil War — he did find merit in the Parliamentarians claim of representative government — he nevertheless placed significant importance in the capacity of a benevolent monarch who could best bring about law and order and tranquility to society. His Social Contract Theory was an attempt to forge a compromise between the two sides. Regardless, Hobbes’ aspiration was to encourage a socially civil arrangement among people, without which society would devolve into the primitive and hazardous State of Nature.

The notion of depicting a State of Nature of humankind, in other words social aggregates free of any external or internal government-like controls, continued to be the starting point for political theorists attempting to specify appropriate parameters of social control up to modern times. John Locke (1632-1704), another prominent English political philosopher and younger contemporary of Hobbes, adopted the Hobbesian approach of characterizing completely free and unconstrained people in a social context. However, Locke was less dire and pessimistic in his appraisal of human nature. Where Hobbes saw a dearth of moral temperance among people, Locke saw an opportunity for people to be naturally free and fulfilled.

John Locke recognized the individual freedom inherent in the State of Nature, but rather than being intimidated by its disruptive potential, Locke envisioned enormous benefit and possibility for people to live unrestricted lives of purpose. Locke’s relative optimism resulted from his belief that people were moral creatures and therefore capable of much more self-control than Hobbes gave them credit for. The basis for Locke’s proclaimed widespread morality was what he called the Law of Nature, which was given to all people by God. The divine Law of Nature dictates that humans not impair one another, but rather respect each person’s “life, health, liberty, and possessions”. Less government with its checks and regulations is necessary, because a moral population simply does not need management. Instead, they are kept in line by accepting God’s word.

Locke was not too Pollyannaish, however. Another component of the Law of Nature was that people could and should defend themselves from unscrupulous behavior, which Locke recognized did exist. Therefore, a degree of civil authority was warranted. Also, Locke revered the concept of property ownership. The image of a man communing with nature, by for example tilling a piece of land and producing food, was seen as a hallowed endeavor.

Locke began to speak of man as having rights — a radical idea for the times —  to live as he chose and to own what he acquired within moral reason and limits. Perhaps some readers will recognize the ethic of Thomas Jefferson in this description of John Locke. The American Declaration of Independence is a powerful reflection of Locke’s thought, and yes, Jefferson was indeed heartily inspired by him. So, where Hobbes advocates for a strong authoritarian sovereign to protect people’s lives, Locke’s vision of a social contract is in support of a minimalist government to protect people’s rights. Their core difference in defining social contracts and civil authority results from their extreme dissonance in defining human nature.

The next chapter of examining the transformation of social thinking with regards to liberty takes us to the reasoning of Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778). Rousseau was a French intellectual, who became one of the pillars of the Enlightenment and a key provider of the rationale for the French Revolution of the 1780s and 1790s. He became enthralled with the investigation of the State of Nature, Social Contract Theory, and the concept of individual rights begun by Hobbes and Locke.

An interesting twist in our tale is the belief Rousseau held regarding the State of Nature. He contended that humankind prior to becoming civilized lived in a pure, natural, and idyllic state. Individuals were inherently free to live in harmony with nature and with each other. There was minimal strife and competition among people, due to their small numbers and the plenitude of nature. Rousseau claimed these early humans were kind and gentle and practiced caring for one another. This view is a polar opposite of Hobbes’ outlook toward human nature.

Once progress and civilization occurred in response to a growing populace and establishment of communities people’s lives became bifurcated into work and leisure times. A consequence of these changes was that life became easier due to innovations and the growth of specialty trades, however people began to compare themselves to one another leading to a proliferation of negative traits such as vanity, jealousy, shame, and loathing. In particular, Rousseau blames the establishment of private property as a monumental cause for man’s “fall from grace”. Note, the stark difference between this position and Locke’s concerning property ownership.

Rousseau saw the onset of private property as resulting in class distinctions. Either one owned property or one worked for someone who did. Wealth and power in time became concentrated among the property owners. Unsurprisingly, this was a situation property owners wanted to preserve. To do so, governments were established to make laws skewed toward the interests of the ownership class and away from the interests of those who worked for them. Rousseau recognized this state of affairs as indeed being a social contract, but an unjust one.

Realizing it was futile to imagine humans going back to the original State of Nature, Rousseau set out to envision a more equitable and humane social contract for the modern era. Beginning with his contention, “Man was born free, and he is everywhere in chains”, Rousseau suggests a social contract composition that essentially attempts to reconcile how people can live freely and together simultaneously. From the starting point of humans being free in their natural state, he opposes any notion of authority being legitimately derived from an entitled social class, such as the rich, and he vehemently rejects any conviction in a divine right of royalty to rule. Since we all start off life on earth free and equal, leadership which is needed to ensure the rights of people to live as freely and equally as possible, must arise from the consent of a free and equal community of people.

Rousseau therefore proposes the concept of a communal or general will derived from the input of all and which takes into consideration the interests of all groups and individuals in the population — in other words, direct democracy. To submit to a general will, individuals must renounce a degree of their distinctive and discreet freedom. Rousseau essentially tells us that not everyone can get all they want all of the time without taking into consideration the needs and wants of others. We are instead encouraged to submit to the conditions of a freely and equitably determined general will, including in the selection of authority.

Society is more than a collection of individual interests, Rousseau tells us. A synergy must be reached establishing a greater good for all persons to live as freely and fairly as possible. Achieving this state is more important than the interest of any one individual. Acceptance of this type of social contract best addresses the corruption which arose from our loss of the original State of Nature. If this requires that citizens be forced by law and tradition to conform to the parameters of the general will, then so be it. This is the Rousseau doctrine.

What Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau wrought is debated to this day. Their formation and refinements of Social Contract Theory has led in large part to the style of democratic governance practiced around much of the world today and which is under threat in some countries, including in the United States. More on that later.

To conclude our look at how Social Contract Theory has shaped individual liberty, I should mention one more political philosopher, John Rawls (1921-2002). After a long interlude of applying assessments of the State of Nature and Social Contract Theory to specify how societies should function ethically and legitimately, Rawls picked up the work of Hobbes, Locke, and Rousseau and utilized a novel approach. In his landmark work, A Theory of Justice published in 1971, Rawls conducts an abstract but useful thought experiment.

In place of the State of Nature, Rawls imagines what he calls an Original Position in which humankind, cloaked behind a “Veil of Ignorance”, determines what is the most just kind of society. Picture this. There is a diverse collection of people: women, men, all ages, all races, straight, gay, abled, disabled, rich, poor, etc. None of them interact with or even know about one another. They are not aware of human history with its prejudices, successes, or failures. Each individual knows only one thing, which is to settle rationally on the conditions or social contract necessary for what will be the most fair society possible for all of its inhabitants.

Rawls claims this imaginary planning group will naturally decide on two core principles. The first is that each and every individual in society is to have the most civil liberty or freedom as possible. No one would be more or less free than anyone else. The second principle recognizes the impracticality of thinking social and economic parity or equality will ever be fully achieved. Therefore, social and economic inequality can be considered just only if social and economic rewards are available and obtainable by each individual, whether or not each individual chooses to strive for them. In short, in a just society everyone is free to pursue their interests and values and no one is to be denied freedom of choice and opportunity.

I have chosen to examine the limits of freedom through the lens of Social Contract Theory because I find it the best way to track the history of thought and practice regarding humankind’s pursuit of the ultimate freedom each individual in a society can expect to express. I am not aware of such a concentrated philosophical and social attempt to address individual liberty elsewhere in the world.

So, what are we to make of all of this? To live freely will firstly be determined at the level of the individual. Each person will have their own interpretation of what freedom means and how much of it is desirable for their unique life circumstances. A fully functioning fair society must be able to accommodate this range of renditions — up to a point.

To identify where this point is located begins with a reading of human nature, not unlike what occurred with the philosophers mentioned above.  As cited in Hamilton/Madison’s Federalist Paper No. 51, “If men were angels, no government would be necessary.” I think it is fair to say, not all “men” are angels. Although some segment of our population is certainly comprised of wonderful souls traversing the expanse from being kind to Buddha-like, there is also unfortunately a significant number of greedy, self-centered, abrasive, and downright unpleasant people out there who would just as soon roll you over if it would be to their advantage. Maybe early humans were the caring and gentle creatures Rousseau characterized, but many sure are not now.

This unmistakable reality forces society into articulating limits to the behaviors demonstrated by individuals. One’s conscience, thoughts, and emotions have always been and hopefully always will be free of coercion and manipulation. But behavior is something else. Quite simply, if one’s freely chosen actions restrict the ability of another individual to act as they choose, then an imbalance has occurred. Whether this imbalance is justified, in other words fair, a reasonable consensus must be present. Typically, limitations to freedom occur for widely agreed upon reasons such as the need to preserve public order, national security, moral values, or the freedom of fellow citizens.

Defining freedom for a society, including its limitations, is where the device of a social contract can be very helpful. Codifying liberty, as can be done in the process of drafting, debating, and ratifying a constitution or also in judicial interpretations, can spell out the essence and parameters of socially acceptable free conduct. In the case of the Constitution of the United States, the Bill of Rights and the remaining seventeen amendments to the Constitution that follow specifically define what it means to be free in the USA. In America and in many other parts of the world, freedom is expressed as highly precise and fundamental rights. Government exists in large part to protect these individual rights.

However, the concept of social contracts has come under criticism. A contract implies that at least two parties negotiated the terms and conditions of the contract. Regarding the U.S. Constitution, the bulk of the negotiating was done between 1787 and 1789 by the members of the Constitutional Convention. It is true, amendments to the Constitution require the input of Members of Congress and state governments over time, but largely the people living in America today did not negotiate or sign on to the social contract. We were literally born into its rules and values and raised to follow them.

Another criticism pertains to who sets the terms and conditions of the social contract. If the drafters of a constitutional-like document are those who control most of the society’s wealth and power, such that they write terms which protect their elite status rather than to universally disperse the benefits of rights across the entire population, then the social contract can rightly be deemed as unjust.

I would like to conclude this essay by mentioning the bizarre contortions freedom is undergoing in the American politics of 2022. If there was ever any doubt that former President Donald Trump had autocratic designs for himself and for his country, these were clearly dispelled on January 6, 2021 with the Capitol insurrection. We all witnessed a sitting U.S. president try to steal a legally and constitutionally conducted 2020 election in favor of himself. Trump told the country and his supporters that he was trying to save the country. In reality, he was trying to destroy democracy.

As I indicated at the start of this piece, Trump’s supporters claim they are lovers of personal freedom. I do not doubt that. The question becomes how best to ensure freedom’s continuance in America. Is it through autocracy or through democracy? Let us take a look at what autocracy is.

The opening line of the Wikipedia entry for autocracy reads: Autocracy is a system of government in which absolute power over a state is concentrated in the hands of one person, whose decisions are subject neither to external legal restraints nor to regularized mechanisms of popular control. I could offer other definitions, but this one sums it up quite well. In my judgment, and I am certainly not alone, this is what Donald Trump offers America.

Look at the current international order or at the world at any point in its history. Where is there evidence of freedom loving people living contently under autocratic rule? None can be found. Absolute power concentrated in the hands of one person is the antithesis of shared power, hence no liberty. Fair play requires each citizen, including and especially the president, to work for the betterment of the public good. A flourishing and prosperous citizenry demands independent and collective contributions from all within a free society, not the dictates of one person.

To jointly support individual liberty and Donald Trump, or any other autocrat, makes no sense. Americans must choose. They are either on Team Autocracy or Team Democracy. For the sake of freedom loving peoples everywhere, let us hope Americans — and all other lovers of liberty around the world — will choose wisely.