Power and Family

Q

uality as a concept, as a measure, can only exist as a result of

choice

.

Where we have no options, there can be no quality. We know that this is true with regards to public schools, the Department of Motor Vehicles, the IRS, the Postal Service, and all other forms of coercive and controlled

“interactions.”

We generally fail to remember, however, that when we were very young, we did not have

any choice whatsoever

.

We do not choose our parents

, our schools, our siblings, our extended family, or our neighbourhood.

We also do not choose our country or our religion, but rather these things are inflicted on us by circumstances and propaganda

.

There does come a time, however, when we

do

slowly begin to gain the capacity to choose with regards to our family.

After puberty and throughout our teenage years, we begin to experience a growing sense of choice. What we were born into no longer dominates us through natural biology or through our physical dependence upon our parents

and utter subjugation to their whims and preferences.

Unfortunately, families

– and society as a whole – inflict an enormous amount of propaganda upon us about the innate “value” of family and the endless virtue of “loving” your family.

However, as we can immediately see, propaganda

about the value of something is scarcely required

if that thing does in fact have value

. Brad Pitt or George Clooney would never benefit from a system of “arranged” (i.e. enforced) marriage, since they have their pick of women anyway.

No, it is the man that no reasonable woman would want to marry who devoutly wishes to have marriage

forced upon women.

Institutionalized coercion

is all about attacking someone for noncompliance with an “ethical” absolute.

The IRS does not say:

“Pay your taxes, or we will shoot you!” No, it is always presented as a virtuous obligation, insofar as you consume government services, love your country, care for the poor, the sick, the old, and so on. In other words, taxes are presented as payment for a

voluntary

interaction – like the bill that arrives with the plasma television – and thus refraining from paying your bill is portrayed as “dishonourable.” Don’t “cheat” on your taxes; pay your “fair share.”

In the same way, parents

present themselves as devoted and loving servants of your well-being as a child and thus “demand” – whether actively or passively – your love and obedience as an adult.

Yet you no more

“choose” to consume government services such as public education, roads, water and electricity than you “chose” to be born into your family.

Neither of these situations are voluntary or contractual – and thus by definition cannot contain any virtue

or quality in and of themselves.

This does not mean that it is logically impossible to love

your parents. They may have been virtuous, considerate, solicitous, kind and firm – and thus naturally you will love them.

However, it is

essential

to understand that if this is the case, you do not love your

parents

–

you love the

virtue

of your parents

.

What you love

is not the category “parents,” but rather the action “virtue.”

“

Virtue” is a choice, and thus involves quality – “parent” is not a choice – at least from the standpoint of the child – and thus in no way involves quality, but rather is a rejection of quality.

Choice and Quality

In a stateless society, we will doubtless need roads, and so we will enter into contracts with those who provide our roads, based on our evaluation of their efficiency, price and competence. It is these criteria of “evaluation” that drives the criterion – and thus the possibility – of

quality

.

Those who do not bring

quality

to the table never want the possibility of voluntary evaluation to exist.

In this way, we know that those parents

who demand respect and love

because they are parents

are morally corrupt.

When your government

demands “payment” at the point of a gun, it is because

it is not providing value

, in the same way that a mugger does not provide value, and so must extract your money through force.

Family and History

When we interact with our families – particularly as adult children – there is an essential aspect of curiosity that we constantly strive to avoid.

The unhappy and insecure man says:

“She

must

treat me well!”

The happy and confident man says:

“I

wonder

if she will treat me well?”

The adult child, with regards to his parents

,

knows the answer already

– in his very

bones

.

The simple question that the adult child must ask is:

“

Did

they treat me well?

”

If this question seems too hard to answer, because of a blankness in your history, or an excess of propaganda

from your family, then you can answer it even more simply.

“

When I see their phone number on my call display, how do I

feel

?”

There is nothing that we need to be taught about how our parents

treated us when we were children. There is no possibility of knowledge about another human being that you do not already possess in relation to your parents (and your siblings, of course, but we shall focus on your parents for the moment).

It is a fundamental fact of human physiology that our deepest emotions

are immune to propaganda, just as physical pain is immune to propaganda.

You can be told over and over again as a child that jamming a knitting needle through your hand will not hurt, but rather will feel wonderful. You may even believe this in your conscious mind, but your hand knows better. When you do stick that knitting needle through your hand, no amount of propaganda

or mythology can prevent the agony you will experience.

This is why we use anaesthetic in surgery, not storytelling.

This is why Novocain is a drug, not a mythology.

Most of our emotions result from our thoughts – but our deepest and truest feelings accumulate from years of

experience

. These feelings cannot be eradicated or changed, any more than our experience can be eradicated or changed. Learning another language as an adult is a conscious decision – learning language as a toddler is an unconscious accumulation of experience and innate ability.

These deepest emotions occur in the

body

– and the body is immune to propaganda. This is why control and rejection of the body is so essential to all exploitive power structures – think of the hostility that most religions have towards the flesh.

Since our deepest emotions

cannot be eradicated through propaganda, propaganda must instead focus on the creation and maintenance of

psychological defences

.

Think of what happens when your phone rings, you look at the call display

, and you see:

 

YOUR PARENTS!

 

What probably happens is that you experience an initial sinking sensation, followed by a strong desire to avoid picking up the phone. You roll your eyes, check your watch, figure out how much time you can waste talking to them, and generally feel the exact opposite of enthusiasm.

Then, of course, you feel guilt, and chastise yourself for your ingratitude and lack of consideration

for their feelings.

They did so much for me, they ask for so little, they’re always concerned about me, it costs me so little to make them happy, etc. etc.

The picture of your mother’s long-suffering face will rise in your mind, and you imagine her sadness as she slowly puts down the phone, feeling rejected. You imagine your father’s irritation when your mother complains that, “She never seems to pick up the phone any more when I call – I’m sure she’s just busy, but…”

You feel – projected into the future – a growing unease about the ever-increasing emotional cost you will incur if you continue to avoid their calls.

“Might as well get it over with now,” you say to yourself, reaching for the receiver – and then, to avoid the guilt of

that

feeling, you pump some enthusiastic shine into your voice as you answer.

After the initial exchange of pleasantries, you feel a rising tension and boredom, because you have nothing to say to your mother

. She talks about this or that, asks you some questions which only elicit monosyllabic responses from you…

Then, the awkward silence descends…

You begin to tell a story; she murmurs some noncommittal responses. She begins telling a story about someone that you barely know, and you attempt to show interest. She asks you questions which are annoying, because they’re manipulative (“Have you met anyone

nice

recently?”) or unanswerable (“What will you buy your nephew for his baptism?”).

You realize how little of your life you can actually share with your mother

, and for the millionth time you wonder how someone could have become so old and remained so uninteresting. You also wonder what pleasure she could possibly derive from these forced and empty interactions.

She must be taking some pleasure in calling you – otherwise why would she? – but you can’t imagine what that pleasure could possibly be.

You sigh, listening to her tinny voice, and wonder when the last time was that you had a problem in your life, and really

wanted

to call your mother for advice.

Never

, comes back the immediate answer…

Then, your mother

says she is going to put your father on the phone, and you scrabble to find an excuse that will not offend him too much – and then you remember that you have used up all your excuses over the last month or two, and that if you try to make up another one, he surely

will

get offended. And so you swallow, roll your eyes, and say: “Hi, Dad!”

And you know, deep in your bones, that this crushingly dull and awkward ritual will be repeated many more hundreds of times in your lifetime – and that the outcome will be

exactly the same

each time.

After you are finally able to get off the phone, you feel empty and a little depressed – but also relieved, because you know that you have bought a certain amount of guilt-free time away from your parents

.

Then, you remember that Christmas is coming up, and your depression yawns to swallow you whole…