L. Neil Smith
L.Neil Smith is the libertarian movement's most prolific author, with more than twenty books to his credit. He lives in Fort Collins, Colorado. For more of "El Neil's" material, see www.lneilsmith.com.
In
Defense of Myself
by L. Neil Smith
For as long as I've been an adult -- from about the time, in fact, when I was 15 -- the single desire I've cherished above all others (sometimes to the dismay of those closest to me -- my own brother comes to mind, and a couple of ex-wives) is to have a free country in which to live.
From the beginning -- despite persuasive arguments of others to the contrary -- I reasoned that the best way to fulfill that desire was to do everything I could to return control of other people's lives to them, in the expectation that, in this way, I'd regain control of my own.
Since I'd failed to find within myself the makings of a mass murderer, habitual thief, or pathological liar, rather than become a politician, I chose to be as popular a writer as I could make myself, with the idea that, if I could persuade enough individuals that they wanted to be free, they, in turn, would convince the politicians that making this into the free country it was supposed to be was the most prudent policy.
Commercial viability was important to me for another reason, as well. The idea was indescribably abhorrent to me that I might become the kind of ideological personality that seems to characterize my opponents on the left, forever in debt to friends and family, hounded constantly by creditors, unable to support wife and children as a man should.
My role models would be Ayn Rand and Robert A. Heinlein, writers who appeared to have flourished despite the message they expressed so articulately, a message that must have been repulsive to the companies that published their work, as well as to a majority of book reviewers, academics, and others who set themselves up as literary judges and gatekeepers.
In the lifetime that has followed these resolves -- I've been a libertarian for 40 years, a novelist for 25 -- I've enjoyed varying degrees of success: more than anyone else expected; less than I'd hoped. I've written 22 novels, all but two of them science fiction, assembled a fat book of essays and speeches, and continue to write articles like this for all sorts of publications. The first book I ever wrote, a quarter of a century ago, is still in print. More by default than any virtue I may possess, I've become the most widely published and prolific living libertarian writer in the world -- mostly because those who have been more widely published and prolific keep dying.
Forty years is a long time, and in those four decades I've made a great many friends and more than a handful of enemies. Some of the latter are understandable -- anyone who wishes to control the lives of others, and comes to know about me, hates me -- and I would be less respectable, in my own eyes and in those of others, if they were not my enemies.
There are those, however, whose enmity is perplexing. I've seen messages, for example -- forwarded from an Internet list (I guess he doesn't have the moxie to address me directly) -- from an officer of the Libertarian Party of New Mexico, who, as I recall, took an immediate, visceral dislike to me the instant I appeared to speak there a few years ago.
I rush to distinguish him from another New Mexican who offered me political advice I declined to accept, and who, ever since, has tried feebly to get some sort of revenge, even quitting the LP and creating a web site dedicated to telling the public what a scoundrel I am. His enmity is far from perplexing. If you ever saw the poor, pathetic guy, you'd understand immediately what his difficulty is. He could easily have been employed as a body double for the actor who played Pearl in _Blade_. That kind of affliction tends to color your attitude toward others.
For the record, I wasn't compensated for appearing in New Mexico (I believe they paid some of our expenses) and although I've addressed or performed for audiences of hundreds and thousands in the past, I gave my best to this group of perhaps 20 as if they'd been a hundred times that number. Show biz oblige. Nevertheless, this individual (Not Pearl, but the other one) is grimly determined that I will never speak there, ever again.
In his messages, he gropes for rationalizations to justify his attitude. High on the list is his contention that my discussion of people and events at the national level of the party reflected "personal issues" I had with those people that I should have kept to myself. My failure to do so created bad feelings on the part of everyone involved.
Since reading those words, I've wanted to ask this gentleman a question. Having sampled his courage, I don't really expect an answer, but I'll ask anyway, for the sake of others who feel (you can't say "think") the way he does. If you walked past a house, maybe your neighbors' home, and saw a burglar jimmying and crawling in a window -- would you politely refrain from calling the police, or at least warning your neighbors, for fear of being accused of having "personal issues" with the burglar or creating bad feelings toward him on the part of your neighbors?
My "issues" with the national leadership at the time were far from personal. In fact I hadn't met and didn't know most of them. I'd met Harry Browne a couple of times and failed to take a shine to him, but that was irrelevant. I never took a shine to Murray Rothbard, nor he to me, but I admired and agreed with him (and still do) more than any other libertarian writer with the possible exception of the mighty Vin Suprynowicz.
On the other hand, I've been friends with Dave Nolan for 30 years, although in most of that time -- often loudly and acrimoniously -- we've opposed one another on nearly every substantive matter of party business. He's characterized me publicly on occasion as a flake who believes two-year-olds ought to carry guns and vote, an author nobody reads or is influenced by. I've had some fun with him in a couple of my books.
Yes, I know the difference between personal issues and the other kind, even if this NMLP fellow doesn't. Yes, I took it personally that a gang of con-men had taken over the last best hope for restoring freedom in America (and yes, I know that some of my readers disagree with me about that, but it isn't the point right now, and I don't want to hear about it) and turned its once brave name into a laughing stock, a byword for the cheapest kind of connivance and the pettiest of corruption.
But my feelings about that aren't the point, either. If I'd felt nothing about it, I'd have done just what I did. I'd do it all again today, because, unlike this NMLPer, I'd also do something about that burglar, without a thought to how the burglar or his cronies might feel about me afterward. I think that makes me a better sort of neighbor than this gink from New Mexico, but you'll have to decide that for yourself.
A couple of other things I stand accused of are ... now how can I put this? Embarrassing this clown with my confidence that I know what I'm talking about -- after only 40 years of experience in the movement and having written a mere 23 books. Those are my credentials, what are his?
He accuses me, as well, of acting out of ego, from a desire for self-aggrandizement. I confess to wishing that I were wealthy and famous (fame, I've discovered, comes a lot easier than wealth); I'm an American and an Objectivist libertarian -- what else should I wish for besides a free country in which to wallow in it? But with due respect to the people who enjoyed my visit to New Mexico (I enjoyed it, too, and can still taste that barbecued brisket), both my ego and my self- aggrandizement could be better and more easily served than by giving a speech to twenty people in a motel without TV or telephones on the outskirts of Taos.
No, I did what I did because a good and loyal friend asked me to, and I will do it again if he asks me and can persuade his associates. If he can't, then I have other things to do. It will be New Mexico's loss (there's that old ego raising its ugly head again) and only because this NMLP officer has personal issues with me that he can't separate from the grim business we all have at hand.
