Oct. 22 marks the 273rd birthday of the adventurer, hunter, Revolutionary War soldier and Kentucky settler who blazed a trail through the Appalachian Mountains to open America’s Western frontier: Daniel Boone. With a steely courage rivaling any Hollywood hero, Boone hacked a path across the mountains with his ax, sustained gunshot wounds in the battlefield, endured capture by Indians and British troops, outwitted and escaped his captors, hunted dangerous kidnappers to rescue his daughter, crossed 150 miles of backwoods at breakneck speed to warn settlers of an impending attack – and lived to tell about it.
Stamped on his rock-hard life is the trademark of a young America, the pioneer spirit to cross new frontiers and control one’s own destiny. In Boone’s time, people were free to run their own lives. Today, we have a vastly expanded nanny state to look after us. Is this a good thing? Imagine you’re a pioneer of yesteryear, heading west in search of a better life. How would you fare with today’s nanny on your back?
As you prepare your covered wagon for the journey, inspectors inform you that your wheels fail to meet safety standards, the canvas covering your wagon is not fire retardant, and the yoke on your draft animals could be harmful – not to you, but to the oxen. Although you’ve traveled safely in the wagon before, you’re slapped with fines and forced to correct the problems. This is considered good, because the government relieves you of the burden of judging the situation for yourself and coming to your own decision.
After paying your fines, with a lighter wallet you travel west to a frontier town. You find that land isn’t cheap anymore. The government took huge tracts off the market to preserve the wilderness. And the townspeople don’t seem to mind. One of them sells you a plot – at 10 times what he paid for it. You learn that he was one of the councilmen who passed the law to preserve the wilderness. He smiles to welcome you to town, but you have difficulty smiling back.
You want to fill a mud puddle on your property, but discover it is a wetland that must be preserved. You ask a government inspector why there is a law against removing mud from your own property, but he has no answer; he just follows the rules.
You plant a crop, only to learn it is forbidden. The government decided there was enough of the crop and any more would lower the price. You find that your neighbors on the town council who passed this law are the folks who grow that particular crop. You also discover that some farmers produce no crops – and get paid for their empty fields with your tax dollars.
You suppress your frustrations and search for a way to succeed. You enjoy making furniture, so you decide to open a shop. But wait. You must file a flurry of permits, proving to a dozen agencies that you are not a hazard to public safety. This means hiring lawyers and accountants, which you cannot afford, so you must give up your dream of starting your business.
Soon you get another jolt: the tax bill. You discover that your nanny wants a big piece of you to fund the numerous agencies running your life.
You’re young, but you feel old. You’re just starting out, but you feel drained. The shining promise of a new life has vanished.
In time, you learn to play the game. You join the town council to build government instead of furniture. You work in a blacksmith’s shop where you do a lousy job, but you get a law passed that forces your boss to pay you more than you’re worth.
Your wife cuts the townswomen’s hair. She worries about losing customers to a new haircutter. But you get the council to enact a law requiring any new haircutters to complete 500 hours of instruction and pay a hefty fee for a license. This protects the public from unsafe haircuts.
Despite your maneuverings, you feel no joy. Your life is no longer in your control, but depends on who’s trading favors with whom on the town council. You’ve lost the ambition, self-confidence and dreams you had when you started out. You’ve become cynical, fearful, conniving. The town has destroyed you.
What happened in this town is happening in our country.
Once we lived by our own efforts; now we demand government “entitlements.” Once we respected the rights of others; now we pass laws to tax and control everyone. Once we reined in government to unleash individual freedom; now we rein in the individual to unleash state power. Once we were pioneers sprinting toward the American Dream; now we’re distressed travelers caught in a maze called the nanny state.
The nanny state is the antithesis of America. It violates a person’s right to act freely and instead compels him to act by the state’s dictates. It corrupts the citizens by giving some groups unearned benefits at the expense of others. It corrupts public officials by giving them unbridled power to dispense favors, to make or break lives, to control entire industries, to confiscate property, to redistribute wealth. It anesthetizes the people to its unchecked power by telling them they will be taken care of, as if trading freedom for dependency were desirable. It uses the chilling weapon of the police state – force – to impose its edicts and stifle liberty.
Today’s nanny concocts a bitter brew of hundreds of alphabet-soup agencies, bureaus, departments, councils and services to regulate our lives. How many modern pioneers are choking at this campfire?
To grab the reins of our lives, to ride free and unafraid like Daniel Boone, we must get the nanny off our backs.
Note: Boone’s birthday is sometimes given as Nov. 2, the New Style date.
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“Character for Life: An American Heritage”
Genevieve (Gen) LaGreca is the author of “Noble Vision,” an award-winning novel about liberty. She holds a master’s degree in philosophy from Columbia University.
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