The Parasite of "Progress"
How to Confront and Dismantle the Logic, Language, and Morality of Socialism
Socialism masquerades as a utopian ideal where the means of production, distribution, and exchange are allegedly owned by the collective—a seductive lie wrapped in the guise of community and state control. Yet, history has shown that no industrial civilization has ever thrived under this system.
Socialism, by its very nature, leeches off an existing industrial base; it cannot create one. It's akin to a parasite that requires a host to survive, only to eventually kill it through inefficiency and oppression.
From its inception, the socialist state morphs into a regime of slavery, where the individual's will is subjugated to the collective's supposed needs, leading inevitably to collapse. Look at the Soviet Union, once a global superpower, now a cautionary tale of how socialism devours its host. The 20th century's socialist experiments weren't failures; they were successful demonstrations of socialism's inherent self-destruction.
Yet, here we are, with modern-day apostles—politicians, celebrities, and those wealthy enough to be insulated from their own hypocrisy—preaching socialism's gospel. They romanticize it, ignoring the mass graves and economic desolation left in its wake. They push for its adoption, not because they believe in equality, but because it serves their interests or their naive ideals. If they succeed, the very fabric of civilization will unravel, leaving us with nothing but the ruins of what was once considered “progress.”
Socialism is not just misguided; it's suicidal. It must not only be named for what it truly is but dissected and eradicated from our societal psyche. We cannot afford the luxury of ignorance or the comfort of false compassion that socialism offers.
Capitalism, unlike socialism, arises organically from human interaction, evolving from the natural exchange of goods and services into a palpable economic system that can be studied and refined.
Socialism, by stark contrast, is an intellectual construct—an idea that must be imposed upon society. It doesn't emerge from the ground up but is rather an architect's blueprint that requires the heavy hand of authoritarianism to construct.
The conflict between capitalism and socialism isn't merely economic; it's fundamentally political. Capitalism is an economic engine, driven by the individual's pursuit of self-interest, which inadvertently promotes societal welfare through market dynamics. Socialism, however, is a political doctrine that dictates not just economic life but every facet of existence through centralized control. Its economic component, the centrally planned economy, is but a facade for its true nature: a system of force and control.
The real antithesis to socialism isn't capitalism but the liberal1 government, which advocates for a minimal use of force, protecting individual rights and freedoms within the marketplace. In any industrial society, the force required to sustain socialism is not just significant; it's draconian. History's ledger is clear: every attempt to implement socialism has led to decades of human suffering, economic collapse, and the suppression of freedoms.
Despite these glaring failures, socialism persists, not just as an economic theory but as a faith. This resilience is partly due to the corruption of our language, where terms are twisted to fit the socialist narrative. “Equality” becomes “uniformity”, “fairness” turns into “confiscation”, and “justice” is redefined as “revenge”.
But even if the logical arguments against socialism were articulated with crystalline clarity, they alone would not suffice. Socialism operates on a different plane—it's a religion of sorts, where faith trumps reason. Our fight then is not just against an economic model or a political system but against a three-headed beast: one head is the perverted logic of socialism, another the deceitful language that supports it, and the third, perhaps the most dangerous, is the dark morality that justifies coercion in the name of an unattainable utopia. Each of these must be confronted, challenged, and ultimately subdued.
Over a century of ideological warfare, defenders of liberty have developed formidable, though imperfect, intellectual defenses against socialism through abstract reasoning, persuasive rhetoric, and exhaustive historical documentation.
This documentation isn't just of economic failures but includes the darkest chapters of human history—from the largest mass murders ever perpetrated to the chilling specter of the Soviet 'Dead Hand' protocol, which nearly brought us to the brink of nuclear apocalypse.
However, these defenses are articulated in language—a tool which has been insidiously manipulated. In contemporary discourse, socialism is sometimes misconstrued as a mere variant of capitalism, especially when juxtaposed against 'corruption', which is now often equated with capitalism itself.
Freedom is distorted into a synonym for chaos, and democracy is misrepresented as the epitome of freedom, muddling the very terms needed to argue effectively. When the language of debate is so twisted, even arguments ostensibly in favor of liberty inadvertently steer us away from it.
Thus, our defense of the liberal state must begin with reclaiming the meaning of our terms. Government, at its essence, is a compromise where individuals trade some measure of freedom for security. This compromise is enacted through policies, which can be categorized as either liberal or illiberal. Liberal policies are those that protect individual liberty; anything else, regardless of intent or outcome, falls into the realm of illiberalism.
Socialism, with its myriad of illiberal policies, claims to serve a higher moral purpose: the exchange of individual freedom for an abstract “social good” centered around equality. But this isn't the liberal notion of equality of opportunity; it's the radical, material equality of outcome. Here, one doesn't need to attribute malice to the socialist's motives; even with the best intentions, the policy's inherent contradictions reveal its flaws.
The pursuit of equality of outcome in a socialist state is not just impractical; it's a logical impossibility. A state that mandates equal outcomes must, by necessity, employ unequal measures of coercion, leading to a paradox where the enforcement of equality breeds inequality.
Policies aiming for such an outcome inevitably result in bureaucratic overreach, economic stagnation, and the erosion of personal freedoms, as every individual's potential must be forcibly aligned with the collective's predetermined “equality”.
Under socialism, from its very conception, the individual's right to property and trade is systematically suppressed by force. This suppression is not just a byproduct but a fundamental requirement of the system. There can never be a version of socialism where individual freedom thrives, as every facet of production, distribution, and exchange is theoretically owned by the collective.
Embracing the moral proposition of total equality, it logically follows that all decisions about production should be made by the collective—meaning everyone. However, humans, unlike certain hive-minded insects, are inherently individualistic, making true collective decision-making biologically unfeasible.
The compromise is democracy, where decisions are made by majority vote. This mechanism, while democratic, immediately breeds inequality since not everyone will be satisfied with the collective decisions on how resources are used. But let's set aside this philosophical conundrum to examine the inevitable trajectory of a state based on such principles.
The term “democratic socialism” is merely redundant; all socialism, by necessity, involves some form of democracy. Yet, it paradoxically leads to despotism. This contradiction arises because socialism is built on logical fallacies, explaining why every large-scale experiment in collective ownership has ultimately crumbled. For decisions to align with the core value of absolute equality, leaders must be democratically elected. However, here lies socialism's Achilles' heel: without the existential threat that might temporarily galvanize productivity, motivation plummets, and starvation ensues.
The inherent flaw is that without personal ownership over one's labor or its fruits, the incentive to work diminishes. One might wish this weren't part of human nature, but it is undeniable: our primary concerns are for ourselves and our kin. Therefore, to maintain productivity without market incentives, coercion becomes necessary.
While forcing a minority to labor might be feasible in a democratic setting, albeit less efficient and morally reprehensible, compelling the majority to work is logistically and politically impossible. The people would simply vote against such coercion, leading to strikes and production halts.
At this juncture, while maintaining the rhetoric of equality for propaganda, the only viable path to sustain the socialist state is to forsake democracy for the sake of the “democratic good.” A despot emerges, ostensibly to protect democracy, and in doing so, institutionalizes an inequality of power.
Being close to this despotic leader grants privileges, creating a new form of social currency. This currency, an abstract, political medium of exchange, can be used to acquire everything from legal exemptions to material benefits. Thus, the socialist state, still cloaked in the language of equality, becomes visibly, materially unequal.
Faced with the inevitable collapse of their ideal system, the committed socialist has resorted to redefining socialism as a mild form of liberalism that merely moderates capitalism for societal benefit. This is nothing short of a falsehood. A nation that genuinely protects individual liberty, upholds private property rights, and allows for free trade and industry is categorically liberal, not socialist.
It's particularly fashionable among socialism's advocates to label prosperous European states, known for high taxation, as socialist. However, this is misleading. While socialist political parties do exist in these nations, vying for power among other parties committed to freedom, no prosperous European state self-identifies as socialist because none have yet replicated the total suppression of individual liberty for the “social good” seen in Eastern Europe's past.
The beloved myth among American socialists that Scandinavian countries are socialist is simply that—a myth. Legal protections for individuals in these countries are akin to those in America, and the per capita capital raised by their liberal governments is comparable to states like California or New York. The more effective social welfare states in some liberal European nations aren't due to higher taxation or socialism; they're a result of better government efficiency compared to the American system.
This aggressive re-framing of European states as socialist is a tactical maneuver to make the notion of liberty as anti-social seem more acceptable. This belief is crucial before any state can seize industrial power, a core aim of socialism, evidenced not only by historical actions but by socialists' persistent attachment to the term.
When asked why adherence to political terminology matters, liberals are often met with the counter: why not just accept this new definition if “socialism” now means “liberalism with high taxation”? However, flipping the question back to the socialist reveals the folly in such concessions.
Why wouldn't the socialist disavow the word given its catastrophic history? The answer lies in their unwavering faith in socialism's morality, despite its failures. As I said before, consider if someone tried to rebrand “true Nazism” as a moderate path between freedom and racist despotism; no one with moral clarity would accept this redefinition because the intent behind such a rebranding would be clear.
Only a Nazi would care enough to sanitize the term for a liberal audience. Similarly, the socialist's desires for total material equality remain unchanged, cloaked under a new linguistic guise. Morality must confront morality; thus, the true nature of socialism must be continually exposed and debated on moral grounds.
Societies where individuals enjoy freedom have consistently outpaced socialist societies in producing new ideas, technologies, and scientific discoveries. In the era when even the least affluent American could drive to work, owning a car in the Soviet Union was the stuff of dreams—a fact often highlighted by educators to underline the stark contrast in living standards.
However, focusing solely on these material achievements misses the broader point about morality. While the creative output under freedom is remarkable, it isn't the end in itself but a means to achieve a higher purpose.
The contemporary socialist isn't peddling cars or gadgets; he's selling a moral vision, a utopian future. In the past, America looked to God for such visions. With formal religious practice on the decline, the innate human need for purpose remains undiminished, explaining why socialism, despite its logical refutations, continues to allure—it functions as a secular religion.
In mythology, Cerberus is the guardian of Hades, preventing the dead from returning to the living world. However, Christianity, through Christ, introduced a radical shift, advocating for love and resurrection not just spiritually but physically, with the prayer, “thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.”
Here, perfection isn't an abstract spiritual goal but something to be actively realized in the material world. We are inherently imperfect, yet the pursuit of betterment, in both moral and economic terms, is our ethical imperative. Perfection, or the journey towards it, is our moral good; God, in this context, represents a direction, not a destination.
The decline of Christianity's influence might be attributed to its perceived conflict with liberalism, the restrictive interpretations of scripture, or the rise of science which some view as antithetical to faith. Yet, Christianity's metaphor has proven resilient, infusing our global culture with the notion of life and improvement.
This moral message is evident not only in our history but in our storytelling and creative works. Can we not see the Christian prayer for Heaven on Earth as a call to construct a perfect world through technology? Are not the visions of Robert Heinlein, with humanity spreading love across the cosmos via fusion-powered starships, or Arthur C. Clarke's depiction of the perfect city, extensions of this Christian morality? These narratives embody the Christian ethos of transcending current realities to achieve something closer to divine perfection on Earth.
Material abundance, biological immortality, and a grand expedition through the galaxy and beyond to spread life and unlock the universe's secrets—these are not just dreams but the tangible goals of a civilization striving for high energy and unlimited potential.
This vision, when articulated with clarity and passion, outshines any socialist utopia. Historically, socialists didn't counter with a different vision; they believed in the compatibility of equality and growth. It was Nikolai Kardashev, a Soviet scientist, who envisioned the ultimate civilization, the “Type III,” as one that harnesses the energy of an entire galaxy.
But after witnessing the stagnation under socialism and the erosion of faith in liberal societies, socialism has morphed into an ideology of stasis, where maintaining the status quo is celebrated as a moral victory. However, stasis lacks the dynamism to inspire and can only succeed in environments devoid of competition or challenge.
Throughout history, Western societies have faced existential threats head-on and prevailed, but the greatest danger has always been the willingness of free men to surrender their natural rights and accept servitude. When our language is safeguarded and a modicum of courage is employed, it's straightforward to demonstrate how such subjugation leads inexorably to disaster.
This lesson should be taught and reiterated frequently. Yet, when we ask what we fight for, we must remember that our rights to ourselves, our property, and our freedoms—our rights to capitalism and liberty—are not just givens; they are intrinsic, but they are not our ultimate purpose.
Our true destiny lies in self-perfection, the quest for immortality, and the exploration of the stars. This is the narrative that should be championed—a narrative of growth, not stasis; of progress, not regression; of life, not the mere maintenance of existence.
In this vision, we see not just the preservation of what we have but the relentless pursuit of what we can become, transforming our world and the cosmos into a reflection of our highest aspirations.
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In American politics, the term "liberal" is grossly misapplied. Refer to “Stop Calling Socialists ‘Liberals’“
Another great piece. You said, "...those wealthy enough to be insulated from their own hypocrisy..." They are above getting their hands dirty in the day to day interactions to make a living because they can afford to. I observe this to be acquired-sociopathy precisely because of this isolation. They fall prey to the causes and claims of actual sociopaths because they lack the life experience to tell the falsehoods from reality. They carry guilt from not earning their inherited wealth when they know that others must do so. But they also feel superior for not having to do so. A combination of guilt and superiority that compels them to force conditions on others to make society's better taking their cues from those who are predators. Classic cognitive dissonance! Anyone say Rockefeller?
I think you must have been over the target with this one Lily to suffer your recent Substack strike. Finally I have been able to read it and contemplate: how can socialism, a fairly recent product seemingly of purely abstract academic educations, prove superior to the result of millennia of practical real life creative experience, augmented where appropriate with applied theory, that is authentic decentralised capitalism? Unfortunately, at this time too many of those in positions of power and influence over our lives seem to be products of purely abstract academic educations.