This post serves as a collection of exchanges extracted from text messages with my children. Engaging in constructive dialogue has proven to be a challenge amidst the digital realm of communication.

To My Children

I understand that you have specific opinions regarding the United States and capitalism, but I don’t share those views. Personally, I don’t believe that the US engages in colonization, supports imperialism, or that socialism or communism leads to a utopian society. These perspectives have been carefully considered over time. I’m puzzled as to why my questioning of claims regarding colonization, imperialism, and capitalism is interpreted as a personal attack on you. I’m perfectly content to avoid discussing these topics if it makes you uncomfortable. However, if you’re interested in understanding my beliefs, I’m more than willing to share them. Likewise, if you wish to present your viewpoints, I’m open to hearing them. Ultimately, the decision is yours.

Understand that when you express a viewpoint, I will likely question it and request evidence. My beliefs aren’t swayed by mere opinion or speculation. I won’t accept something as proof if there are more plausible alternative explanations. If you prefer to avoid having your views challenged, it’s best not to raise them. Please know that my intent isn’t to take things personally, nor do I expect you to do so.

My Views

In my view, the United States has made errors in the past and continues to do so. I am not one to view things through rose-colored glasses. While I acknowledge that the government is far from perfect, I do not deem it inherently malevolent. Rather, I consider it to be one of the finest nations in the world. The foundational philosophy of the U.S. Constitution, particularly the principle that the government derives its authority from the consent of the governed, is, in my opinion, unparalleled among global governance systems. Although the United States has not consistently upheld these ideals, significant progress has been made, influencing much of the world in the process. Criticizing the United States is a popular pastime, especially for those who enjoy the privileges and protections it offers—a luxury not universally available. It’s important to remember that the very institution being criticized guarantees the freedom to express such critiques. Sadly, many critics fail to grasp this irony.

An essential concept often encountered in political theory or civics textbooks is the notion that government possesses a coercive nature. In simpler terms, it compels us to behave in certain ways or imposes limits on our behavior, sparking debates over where these boundaries should lie. The crux of the issue lies in human nature; given absolute freedom, chaos would ensue, and the human race cannot prosper under such conditions. For the sake of our collective welfare, some form of government is necessary. However, the debate over which form is optimal is ongoing. Another pertinent question concerns when governmental coercion becomes excessive and violates human rights. Governmental coercion should aim to protect human rights rather than infringe upon them.

I don’t subscribe to the narrative that the US is engaged in colonialism. While the US was initially settled by colonizers who maintained a colonial approach well into the 1800s, I don’t see any current evidence of US colonization. Perhaps there are aspirations for ventures on the moon and Mars, but not here on Earth. Contrastingly, China is eyeing Taiwan for invasion, and Russia has invaded Ukraine with the intention of assimilating these territories into their respective nations. The US involvement in wars in Iraq and Afghanistan was not driven by a desire to colonize but rather as a response to neutralize radical Islamic threats and dictators. In those instances, efforts were made to facilitate the establishment of self-governing bodies for these nations, with subsequent plans for withdrawal. Unlike Russia and China, the US does not intend to maintain a perpetual presence in these regions.

I’m uncertain about the concept of US imperialism. Historically, empires would conquer and subjugate or assimilate the populations of the lands they invaded. I don’t see the US engaging in such actions today, except perhaps in relation to Native Americans during the 1700s and 1800s. While the US is undeniably a superpower and holds influence over other nations, this doesn’t equate to the practices of empires like the Mongol, Roman, or British Empires, or other ancient empires. Even though these empires had their flaws, being part of them often offered advantages. In the case of the Roman Empire, for instance, there was a period of relative peace and justice known as Pax Romana, although it came at the cost of bloodshed and violence. Evaluating the balance of costs and benefits of being part of such an empire is complex. One could argue that without the Roman Empire, the world might have remained in a preindustrial state. Nonetheless, despite these historical parallels, I still believe the US does not fit the traditional mold of imperialism seen in past empires.

I don’t advocate for an unregulated free market. Unfortunately, some individuals believe that greed is virtuous and that pursuing profit at any expense is justified. Allowing a completely laissez-faire approach to commerce would lead to chaos. I don’t support such an approach. However, I do believe that capitalism, despite its shortcomings, has advanced society, fostered discovery, and spurred innovation. It has consistently proven to be the most effective method for generating wealth and has lifted more people out of poverty than any other economic system.

What about the issue of greedy billionaires? In an ideal scenario, I believe they should either share their profits with their employees and contribute to philanthropic endeavors, as exemplified by the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation’s efforts to eradicate malaria. However, I do not advocate for forcing them to take such actions. Imposing obligations on individuals would necessitate sacrificing our freedoms to compel compliance. Compulsory wealth distribution contradicts the Libertarian principle that individuals should be free to act as they wish as long as their actions do not infringe upon the rights of others.

If you won the lottery, would you distribute it to everyone? Not that you would decide how to spend the money you won, but rather that bureaucrats would make those decisions for you. Investing in business entails significant risk—you can strike it big or lose everything. Without the potential for substantial rewards, people would hesitate to invest, and innovation would stagnate. Alternatively, if we don’t support innovation, we could all embrace a simpler lifestyle like the Amish. Is that truly what we desire? I believe that individuals who take investment risks, akin to gambling, should bear the consequences—both the rewards and the losses. I’ve observed that those who oppose capitalism are often reluctant to distribute the losses. Why should individuals who take no risks benefit from the efforts of risk-takers? And if that’s the case, should they not also bear the losses of those who have taken risks and failed?

When it comes to communism, I see it as a deception. In Russia, they believed that eliminating the elite bourgeoisie class would bring prosperity to the masses. Instead, a new ruling class of party leaders emerged, quashing any dissent with brutal force. The result was a large impoverished class, oppressed and subjugated, alongside an elite group of party leaders enjoying extravagant lifestyles. China recognized this flaw and implemented some economic reforms, leading to the development of one of the world’s largest middle classes. However, I’m uncertain about China’s progress on human rights. The iconic image of a solitary individual facing a tank in Tiananmen Square in 1989 remains a stark reminder of the government’s violent crackdown on protesters. The combination of communism and capitalism under China’s Communist Party leaves much to be desired.

The notion that socialist nations in northern Europe serve as prime examples of socialism’s superiority over capitalism is popular, but I disagree with it. Former Swedish Prime Minister Stefan Löfven, speaking at Harvard’s Kennedy School of Government in 2015, highlighted that Denmark, often linked with the Nordic model, is far from being a socialist planned economy. Although the Nordic countries boast robust social welfare systems, they function within a mixed-market capitalist framework, blending aspects of both socialism and capitalism. Essentially, they are capitalist societies with certain social programs in place.

The question I grapple with is how to prevent socialism from excessively infringing on people’s rights. I embrace the fundamental libertarian principle that individuals should enjoy the freedom to act as they please as long as it doesn’t impinge upon the rights or freedoms of others. While I appreciate the libertarian principle that a government that governs the least governs the best, I’m hesitant to fully endorse it. From my perspective, it logically follows that socialism contradicts libertarian principles. I believe they are mutually exclusive—you can’t reconcile the two ideologies. There are significant implications and impacts to consider. You can’t build a society upon two conflicting principles; you would need to apply one principle in certain instances and the other in different scenarios. In my opinion, this would result in a fractured or disjointed society.

The challenge inherent in socialism is its requirement to redistribute resources from one group to another, often resulting in inequality. Let’s consider healthcare as an example. Should we advocate for a ban on smoking? Given the significant health risks and substantial healthcare costs associated with smoking, it’s a pertinent question. In a socialist system, these costs are collectively borne through compulsory means from taxpayers. Conversely, in capitalism using insurance, private insurers often charge higher premiums for smokers. However, regardless of the system, shouldn’t we have the right to restrict smoking for the greater good? This would mean denying individuals the freedom to smoke if they choose. It’s a widely held belief that the wealthy should foot the bill for the healthcare costs arising from unhealthy lifestyle choices of the less affluent. Yet, in my opinion, this doesn’t seem fair. If I’m required to contribute through taxes to others’ healthcare, I would support restrictions on activities that raise healthcare costs, ultimately increasing taxes. This exemplifies how socialism operates—decisions are made collectively by society, leaving little room for individual freedom.

Socialism is fundamentally distinct from charity; charity involves voluntary giving, whereas socialism entails coercion and redistribution. I believe in the value of charity, where individuals work to assist others. Across various religions such as Buddhism, Judaism, Islam, and Christianity, charity is regarded as a virtue. It’s my conviction that charity cannot be compelled—it thrives on voluntary action, allowing individuals to empathize with those in need, turning giving into an expression of love. Conversely, when forced, when money is extracted from individuals and redistributed, it breeds resentment, hatred, and anger. While the ultimate goal of aiding others may appear similar in both scenarios, the approaches differ fundamentally, shaping the giver’s perspective in distinct ways. Despite good intentions, relying on forced redistribution can lead to disastrous outcomes. We have two options: rely on charity, benefiting both parties, or resort to taking and redistributing, creating a win-lose dynamic. Clearly, the former is superior.

Am I idealistic? Certainly, like many others, I hold ideals close to my heart. However, the belief that socialism represents an infallible solution to society’s problems is inherently idealistic. In practice, things often diverge from our intentions. My own idealism has waned over time as it collided with the complexities of reality. While I don’t claim to possess all the answers, I adhere to a philosophy that guides my actions. In my view, libertarian freedom stands as the optimal path for safeguarding human rights. History serves as a testament to this assertion, bolstering my conviction.

These are simply my viewpoints, formulated based on the facts as I understand them. I am entirely open to altering my beliefs in light of new evidence. These are my current convictions, subject to evolution and refinement.  Should you disagree with me, that’s perfectly acceptable—I respect your right to hold a differing perspective and would defend your freedom to express it. When confronted with your views or opinions, I may engage in discussion not to assert my correctness or your incorrectness, but rather to jointly pursue truth. I’m secure enough in my convictions to welcome challenges; if they prove valid, they will bolster my beliefs with additional evidence. Conversely, if they prove unfounded, I will adapt my beliefs accordingly.

Our Conversations

It’s disheartening to feel that disagreement automatically equates to endorsement of genocide or other atrocities. I’m troubled by the assumption regarding my motives or the low regard you seem to hold for me. It’s frustrating to find myself in a position where defending my viewpoint is perceived as an attack on you or an attempt to silence you. While I’m open to hearing your perspectives, it’s distressing that my own viewpoints are often construed as aggressive.

I don’t perceive it as a personal slight when my statements are challenged; in fact, I welcome constructive debate as an opportunity for growth and understanding. However, if you find such challenges offensive, I respect your perspective and am willing to refrain from discussing political topics to avoid causing discomfort. If my questioning of your statements causes offense, I suggest we steer clear of those subjects altogether to maintain a positive and respectful dialogue.

It appears that agreement with your viewpoints is portrayed as a prerequisite for maintaining a relationship, which gives rise to some concerns. Your social media posts often feature memes suggesting the removal of individuals from one’s life if they disrupt inner peace. While I’m uncertain whether these posts are directed at me, they seem to imply that disagreement could jeopardize our connection. While this sentiment may hold true in cases of physical abuse, inner peace is largely a subjective state of mind, as espoused by numerous religions and psychological theories such as cognitive behavioral therapy and Stoicism. These memes could potentially be interpreted as a subtle form of emotional blackmail, implicitly coercing agreement under the threat of ending our relationship. Although you’ve expressed disagreement with this interpretation, don’t take my word on it, I encourage you to conduct your own research to discern the validity of my observations.

I feel as though I am expected to unquestioningly adopt your perspective, leaving me puzzled about the significance of my own opinions in our interactions. I can only speculate that this desire for agreement may stem from a need for validation. In such a case, I would encourage you to reevaluate the basis of these beliefs. If you truly believe in their truthfulness, why seek external validation? However, if my dissent challenges the validity of a deeply held belief, it’s understandable that you might perceive it as a personal affront, even if unintended. Perhaps these beliefs lack a solid foundation, prompting discomfort when confronted with opposing viewpoints.

I refuse to conform to beliefs that I do not genuinely hold. It’s unfair to expect me to endorse something that contradicts my convictions merely to appease others. You once emphasized the importance of accepting individuals for who they are, acknowledging that beliefs are integral to one’s identity. Yet, why should I be the one pressured to change? Philosophy is a fundamental aspect of who I am—I thrive on questioning and challenging assumptions. To deny me the freedom to express myself authentically is to deny a core part of my identity.

I find no difficulty in maintaining relationships with individuals who hold differing viewpoints, so I’m perplexed by the challenges we seem to face. In fact, I relish the opportunity to engage with friends who offer diverse perspectives; such interactions have been enriching. Conversations with atheist friends, for instance, have led me to reconsider my stance on certain matters, fostering personal growth and changing my potion on some things.

I cherish you deeply, and my desire for a relationship with you is unconditional. Your agreement with my viewpoints is never a condition for our connection. What truly matters to me is our bond, built on mutual respect, understanding, and acceptance of each other’s differences.

Reflection

• What methods have you found effective in fostering meaningful discussions with your kids despite the limitations of digital communication?
• How do you ensure that important messages or discussions aren’t lost or misinterpreted in conversations with your children?
• Have you ever felt frustrated or challenged by the limitations of text messaging when communicating with your kids? How do you manage these feelings?