We can all learn from RBG's and Scalia's friendship
I've been thinking a great deal about the close friendship between Supreme Court Justices Antonin Scalia and Ruth Bader Ginsburg. It puzzled -- and sometimes even infuriated -- their followers, but it is a model we should all follow, especially now.
Some of the more distressing phenomena in contemporary American culture are the calls for people to put aside or end personal relationships -- which should be far more important in our lives -- because of political viewpoints -- which should be far less so.
This is happening, at least in part, because government has become far too involved in people's lives. When the government controls the most significant aspects of your life -- who you can marry, how you raise and educate your children, whether you can live by your beliefs -- then disputes over control of government become deeply personal and fraught with monumental individual significance.
We take for granted (and many don't even know) how America's founding was based upon what were then radical notions of individual liberty. In contrast to what were then millennia-old "noblesse oblige" views that the monarchy was God-ordained to rule over others for their own good, our country's founders believed that, given the proper conditions, the average person was capable of running his or her life.
The government that was instituted was therefore limited, precisely to protect those liberties from the encroachments of those who would insist that government -- monarchical, dictatorial (of the proletariat or otherwise) or even tyrannical majorities -- can better decide what's good for you. Those people exist in every age, and the founders knew it.
Until fairly recently, our government expanded largely to better regulate commerce, to curb abuses that private industry failed to remediate (and, in some instances, caused), and to expand and enforce constitutional liberties for populations who had been prevented from enjoying them.
These have been good things. But they are not arguments for further expansion of government, for scrapping the limits on government in the Constitution or -- God help us -- for some kind of collectivist revolution.
To the contrary, the ability of our Constitution to adapt to the changes that have been made since 1789 is both a tribute to its drafters and a testament to the profound rectitude of its underlying principles.
When you study revolutionary movements throughout history -- and, interestingly enough, poverty in the modern era -- you see startlingly similar causes: the inability to own property; the inability to profit from the fruits of one's own labor; and oppressive governments that are accessible only to the rich, the powerful and the politically well-connected.
That's easy to spot when the government is authoritarian; there, power exists for the sole purpose of enriching the ruler and his/her friends and family. But it's also true of nominally "free" governments where there are elaborate webs of legal and regulatory bureaucracies, all of which were presumably created, implemented and inevitably expanded "for the benefit of the people."