Jordan Peterson is not a libertarian. At least, he is no anarchist. Peterson believes there is a role for government, in providing a social security net and regulate certain industries, for example. Not that he is outright that political, really, except in his opposition to post-modernism, identity politics and fascist ideologies on both the left and right. No, Peterson’s metier is psychology, and it is his “self-help” book 12 Rules for Life which has made him a global phenomenon.
In the book (a global best seller) and on his YouTube channel (which has more than a million subscribers), he outlines ethical principles designed to help us navigate our lives and face the burdens we are certain to bear. Peterson is aware of the dangers of your life taking a wrong turn because you are not in control of it. So, he wants you to be strong, both for yourself and so you can be so for others. To see yourself as worthy of the best advice you can give yourself, and to follow that advice. To surround yourself with good people, who want the best for you. To pursue meaningful goals. And so on. The red thread running through all his advice is that we must take responsibility for ourselves and bring order to the chaos which threatens to ruin our lives.
That is a message which should resonate with libertarians. Because libertarianism is not just about doing whatever we want; it is that, of course, but it needs to be more than that. A libertarian society is one where we are not just free to do what we want, it is one where we are responsible for ourselves. Take the welfare state. We dislike it. We dislike it on moral grounds, because it is predicated on taxation as a source of funding. But we dislike it on utilitarian grounds as well, because it causes the disenfranchisement of those who are caught in its net: kids grow up on council estates without knowing anyone who holds a job, maybe no-one who ever did; people live welfare check to welfare check; they have no aims, hold no ambition. They have been told that the state will take care of them; it puts food in their stomachs, but it starves their minds.
Life – or Being as Peterson calls it, which can be thought of as the sum total of our experience, both individually and collectively – is sometimes kind, but mostly it is not. Without being able to take responsibility for ourselves, who is there to help us when life falls apart? Especially in a society where everyone else struggles to take care of themselves, let alone other people. That sort of place might not work out so well. That sort of place might need a state; a strong power to step in and help us when we fall and are unable to get up. In that way, the overreaching welfare state creates its own clientele, by making victims out of its subjects. And being a victim is not good. This is why Peterson, like any real libertarian, objects vehemently to identity politics and its narrative of oppressed and oppressors. Victims must be recompensed, and the inevitable consequence of the social justice politics agenda of addressing any and all perceived inequality by political means is a larger role for the state. We become further disenfranchised, allowed to disown responsibility for our own lives on yet more measures. But our Being is weaker for it. We need more help. The cycle continues.
Peterson is of course not the first to preach self-reliance and individual responsibility. But he has a global audience for his message, and he resonates with young people, who as a generation have been so sorely misled by the left’s promises. That may be a game changer; a catalyst for people to open up to libertarian ideas of individual liberty. And as libertarians, we can use a reminder that our philosophy encompasses more than just the right to do what we want: we must have the ability to do what we need to do as well. Peterson’s book is sub-titled An Antidote to Chaos. He’s referring to the internal chaos in us all, as we struggle with the burden of Being. But his thoughts are an antidote to the chaos that statism is wrecking on society as well.