More
Equal Than Others
by
Christopher Alexion
by Christopher Alexion
DIGG THIS
Author Kurt
Vonnegut died
last week at age 84, leaving his skeptical but stubbornly human
stamp on American literature. Like most English majors, I studied
Vonnegut in college, but it's for a short story one of my professors
recommended outside of class that I actually remember him. Americans
today regard Vonnegut's legacy as cynical which it certainly was.
Yet his story "Harrison
Bergeron," written in 1961, reveals a more positive upshot of
Vonnegut's doubt: his mistrust of the state.
"Harrison Bergeron"
is bitterly hilarious in its treatment of state-imposed equality.
Vonnegut's dystopian tale begins in the year 2081, when "everybody
was finally equal." These residents of the future aren't simply
"equal before God and the law" but "equal every which way." The
omnicompetent state, aided by the latest technology, has finally
succeeded in removing all inequalities of strength, beauty, and
intelligence. As C. S. Lewis predicted in The
Screwtape Letters, democracy has become an excuse to stifle
human achievement. If one stalk of wheat is higher than its neighbors,
lop the little bugger in the name of equality.
Vonnegut's
glorious society accomplishes its goals through the office of the
United States Handicapper-General. Vonnegut details some of the
methods used to remove all "unfair" advantages: Beautiful people
must wear masks. The strong have weights padlocked around their
necks. Smarter folks are required to wear radio earpieces that scatter
their thoughts with periodic random noises. One part of the story
sums up the situation with particular wryness:
"You been
so tired lately – kind of wore out," said Hazel. "If there was
just some way we could make a little hole in the bottom of the
bag, and just take out a few of them lead balls. Just a few. .
. . If you could just take a few out when you came home from work,"
said Hazel. "I mean you don't compete with anybody around
here. You just set around."
"If I tried
to get away with it," said George, "then other people'd get away
with it and pretty soon we'd be right back to the dark ages again,
with everybody competing against everybody else. You wouldn't
like that, would you?"
Vonnegut's
story emphasizes the potential for abuse present in even the healthiest
democracies. Equality is a great thing, but human beings are dim-witted
enough to take this gift to extremes that eventually destroy whatever
it was we were trying to protect. That's why our efforts toward
equality need vitally to be guided by a love of liberty. Naked equality
is just another name for tyranny for if everyone's going to be
equal in all aspects, then no one can really be free. To use Vonnegut's
satirical examples, basic differences of genes and talents face
the wrath of the Handicapper-General. To use more familiar images,
the money- and power-hungry state uses coercive action to redistribute
wealth and force Americans to comply with increasingly thorny regulations.
Murray Rothbard saw the same point in Vonnegut, and the same danger
in contemporary America:
There is one
and only one way, then, in which any two people can really be "equal"
in the fullest sense: they must be identical in all of their attributes.
This means, of course, that equality of all men the egalitarian
ideal can only be achieved if all men are precisely uniform, precisely
identical with respect to all of their attributes. The
egalitarian world would necessarily be a world of horror fiction a world of faceless and identical creatures, devoid of all individuality,
variety, or special creativity.
In such a system,
equality itself becomes an illusion, protected by political smoke
and mirrors. The state speaks of equality while it's riveting our
chains, and at times can come up with some pretty nice buzzwords.
Social justice is taking place. Unfairness is being removed. Man
is taking charge of his own destiny. But C. S. Lewis warned us not
to buy in:
Let us not
be deceived by phrases about "Man taking charge of his own destiny."
All that can really happen is that some men will take charge of
the destiny of the others. They will be simply men; none perfect;
some greedy, cruel and dishonest. The more completely we are planned
the more powerful they will be. (God
in the Dock [Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1972], p. 316)
Yet perhaps
a different twentieth-century novelist made the point most clearly
when he pointed out that when those in power trumpet equality, there's
always a catch.
They always
end up being more equal than others.
April
17, 2007
Chris
Alexion [send him mail]
is a graduate of Thomas Edison State College and lives outside Baltimore.
Copyright
© 2007 LewRockwell.com
|