Wherever You Want To Go
No. 14: July 10, 2020
Dear Friends,
This has been making the rounds on Twitter:
I replied honestly:
I wasn’t just trying to be clever. There is a lot that I love about that photograph, and the “architecture,” such as it is. Whether that photo depicts “capitalist” architecture is a matter of some debate. Several people have pointed out that this picture is actually a representation of an overly burdensome government—you see, all of these businesses are forced by government edict to cram themselves into this tiny footprint off of the Interstate in Pennsylvania, instead of spreading out.
But let’s just say that isn’t the case. Let’s say, for the sake of argument, that this is a fair representation of “capitalist” architecture. Don’t we need some frame of reference, something to compare it to? I can’t think of anything better than communist architecture, which is the opposite of “capitalist” architecture and, well, not known for its aesthetic beauty. Indeed, the Soviets took most of their architectural sensibilities from a movement called brutalism. It looks just like it sounds.
When I was growing up I loved Tom Clancy spy novels. It was the height of the Cold War, and The Cardinal of the Kremlin was one of my favorites. Here’s something I now find hilarious. In my mind’s eye, I thought this was the Kremlin (the Soviet government building):
I was shocked to later find out that that is actually a relic of joyful and happy Christian civilization: St. Basil’s Cathedral. The part of the Kremlin the Soviets built looks like this:
Hmm. When I visited Budapest, I was privileged to see one of the wonders of the world: the Hungarian Parliament building:
When the Soviets occupied Hungary, they built stuff like this:
I think the answer is pretty obviously, “Yes, there are things a lot more depressing than ‘capitalist’ architecture.” Communists made everything equal, all right: equally ugly.
Freedom in a Photo
I want to talk about that original photo, though, because I think it is worth some reflection.
First, the Interstate Highway. I often take the on-ramp to I-90, and the thought occurs to me that if I just keep driving I’ll end up in Seattle. If I take the ramp heading the other direction, I’ll end up…in Boston. I once drove to Philadelphia (I know: silly me) and took exactly two turns. I took a right and headed a bit south, and then a left, and ended up at my destination 2,000 miles away. No stop signs, no traffic lights, no “roundabouts,” just thousands and thousands of miles of free-flowing, four-lane open road, in every direction.
The Interstate Highway system is a monument of a free people. Europeans, central planners, and California governors are obsessed with high-speed railroads because they love to waste money and they love to plan where they will allow you to go. In America, we’ve created an orderly system for you to go wherever you want. You will not get stopped at a border checkpoint; no one will ask for your papers, or ask what is your business. As you get further east some regressive wannabe communist states start charging you at toll booths every ten miles for the privilege to drive on suddenly pothole-riven roads (I’m looking at you, Illinois: what is it you actually do with all that money, anyway?), but for the most part the highways of this country are conduits of freedom.
As you make this drive to wherever you want, it is almost impossible for you to run out of fuel. Even in the most desolate places in the dead of night, like the high prairie of South Dakota, an oasis will suddenly loom out before you: Wall Drug. There is always the next exit, and almost all of them have a large supply of gasoline for your journey to wherever you want. It is not because the government makes somebody supply you with gasoline. Congress did not pass a law requiring ExxonMobile or Shell to build a station at every exit. They build these things of their own accord; because you want gasoline, and they want to supply it to you—a system of free exchange for a free people driving wherever they want. And if you want to save a penny per gallon, you might freely go to the station across the street—although, thanks again to the free market, all of the stations are giving you gas for the lowest prices possible because of the geographical immediacy of stiff competition.
I also see the Golden Arches in that photo. Oh, let me sing the praises of the Golden Arches, because McDonald’s, too, is a monument of free enterprise. I pull into the “Drive Thru” (another uniquely American thing—I missed a “Drive Thru” much more than I would’ve thought when I was living abroad) and place my order for a delicious McDouble sandwich. How do I know it will be delicious? I mean, I’ve never eaten at this particular McDonald’s before. But no matter where I am on my journey to wherever I want, I can order this sandwich and it will be delicious. It is the exact same product, whether I’m in Key West, Florida, Columbus, Montana, or San Diego, California.
How do they do that? How can the ingredients and preparation be exactly the same? How do they get the same grain for the flour for the bun, the same quality beef for the patties, the same tangy pickle? Just think for a moment of the logistical/supply chain genius of the McDonald’s Corporation—every single restaurant has everything on the menu, and everything on the menu is perfectly identical.
McDonald’s buys grain from a farmer, beef from a cattle rancher, cheese from a dairy farmer, pickles from a cucumber farmer, and makes a sandwich. The farmers and ranchers and McDonald’s are all happy with this economic transaction. Money has been invested and exchanged and made all along this circuitous route, and then they sell this sandwich to me for the grand total of $1.50. How is that possible? How can the farmers and ranchers and McDonald’s franchise owners and employees possibly be happy with charging one dollar, fifty cents for this sandwich that represents hundreds and even thousands of collective man-hours to produce?
The free market miracle, that’s how. “Depressing” capitalism.
Maybe you don’t like McDonalds. I think you’re crazy, but, hey, it’s a free country and you’re on a road trip to wherever you want. Go down the street and get a burrito from that Taco Bell in the picture. It will be exactly what you expect. You know how I know? Because it’s the same burrito you’ll get from any other Taco Bell in the world. Are you getting my drift? Modern “capitalist” enterprise is nothing short of a miracle. You get affordable, predictable, quality choices, and everyone involved, from the farmers to the stockholders to you and your pocketbook, is…happy. Even though it seems impossible, nobody is ripping anybody off. If anything, you should feel like you are ripping people off, getting a sandwich for a pittance that required such a massive logistical undertaking.
Get a cup of Starbucks for the road. You want another ode to capitalism? Here’s a company that literally burns its coffee to the consistency and flavor of black tar, but it turns out that Americans like it that way and are willing to overpay for the privilege of drinking it. So, good for them. I’m glad they employ thousands and thousands of people and give them excellent benefits.
That’s another thing I see in that photo. I see entry level jobs as far as the eye can see. I see young men and young women and immigrants and even middle-aged down-out-outers working the registers, mopping floors, standing over the grill and fryer, working espresso machines, respectfully smiling at customers and wishing them a good day, learning life skills that will help them achieve greater things: punctuality, perseverance, professionalism. Never look down on the “burger-flipping” job. It’s dignified work. Providing you free choices of affordable provisions on your free journey in a free country to wherever you want is something to celebrate and respect.
Did you notice the Wal-Mart truck in the picture? I did. Do you know that for a few dollars and “.97” cents Wal-Mart will sell you food, clothing, and furnishings of which not even King Solomon himself could dream? The average Wal-Mart shopper lives a more luxurious life than he did, I assure you. You have indoor plumbing—I rest my case. And you don’t even need to actually go to Wal-Mart. They’ll mail it to you, or you can order it on an app on your phone and a helpful employee will do your shopping for you. All you have to do is pull up, and they’ll load your bags into your car so that you can keep moving down the road on your way to wherever you want.
We are kings.
Finally, with all that money you’ve saved because of all that “depressing” capitalism, you can drop in to that “Gift & Souvenir” shop. They’ll have all kinds of cool stuff celebrating their pride in their little corner of the world. And you can buy a T-shirt or a hat or keychain or coffee mug to let everyone know that you think their place is pretty cool, too.
On September 16th, 1989 Soviet leader Boris Yeltsin visited an ordinary American grocery store. He told his entourage (in Russian, of course) that if the Russian people were to see what he was seeing, “there would be revolution.” He thought it was a joke, something staged for the cameras. He later wrote of the experience:
When I saw those shelves crammed with hundreds, thousands of cans, cartons and goods of every possible sort, for the first time I felt quite frankly sick with despair for the Soviet people" [….] That such a potentially super-rich country as ours has been brought to a state of such poverty! It is terrible to think of it.
So, no. I don’t see “depressing.” I see blessing. I see freedom and prosperity, and I shudder to think of what it’s like to live in a place of government-mandated ugly uniformity, Soviet bloc housing, places where you stood in line for your loaf of government bread, and had to get on a waiting list for years before you could get a garbage government-made car that you could drive… wherever they let you.
I’ll take the gas, the burger, the coffee, the souvenir, and I’ll take that beautiful—no, gorgeous—on-ramp to freedom any day of the week, thank you.
Miscellany
“Cancel” culture is on the rise. J.K. Rowling, author of the the Harry Potter series, has used her rather substantial stock of cultural capital to object to “Trans” culture in many of its facets—an alarming rise of “puberty blockers” on children, the way the movement actually harms women, etc. It is doubtful to me that Rowling can actually be “canceled.” She’s a billionaire, and will deservedly continue to be so because she wrote one of the most thrilling and accomplished literary series of our time (seriously: one of the best thought-out and executed series I’ve ever read), but that hasn’t stopped people from trying. Here’s a run-down from another hero of mine, Ayaan Hirsi Ali.
Along the same lines, Harper’s Weekly made news by publishing an “Open Letter” for intellectual freedom, signed by 150 high-profile signatories. When “cancel culture” came out in force to decry the signatories (leftist progressives do not believe that “wrong-think” deserves freedom of speech), many of the signers dutifully distanced themselves from the letter. I thought Malcolm Gladwell’s Tweet response to one such pathetic signatory was on point:
I signed the Harpers letter because there were lots of people who also signed the Harpers letter whose views I disagreed with. I thought that was the point of the Harpers letter. https://t.co/ozFsAmXq9RI did not know who else had signed that letter. I thought I was endorsing a well meaning, if vague, message against internet shaming. I did know Chomsky, Steinem, and Atwood were in, and I thought, good company. The consequences are mine to bear. I am so sorry.
Jennifer Finney Boylan 🐕 @JennyBoylanWith slavery and race on everyone’s mind these days, I’ll recommend this lecture by Peter Williams on the topic of the Bible and slavery. He’s an excellent biblical scholar (he was a lecturer in Aberdeen during my time there) and a dynamic teacher!
I took the on-ramp to freedom this week and went up to the mountains to cut some firewood. Before I left I dug through some old CDs to listen to on the stereo and found Petra’s 1985 album, Beat The System. Petra was the hottest Christian band in the world at the time, and when they toured through Billings, Montana in 1986 it was the first concert I ever attended. I was ten. I listened through the entire thing while on the road and I’ve come to believe that Bob Hartman, the guitarist and essentially sole songwriter for the band, is an under-appreciated genius. I’ve listened to a lot of “classic rock” radio (I used to stack boxes in an entry-level job for UPS for hours and hours with that on the stereo), and musically I’d put Petra’s music up against almost any of that stuff. Wikipedia compares them to Boston, Styx, The Eagles, and so forth, and that’s a good comparison. They never got any love from the wider world because of their Christian commitments.
As an example of Hartman’s genius, the song “Speak To The Sky” begins with a Celtic introduction, moves into a classic rock riff for the verse, and then immediately into an R&B chord progression for the bridge and chorus. Then back to the rock riff, and finally back to the Celtic theme. It’s really ingenious stuff and it works, even with the typical 1980s over-use of the synthesized keyboard. You can find the entire album here. With the exception of Track 2, “Computer Brains” (which probably seemed like a good idea at the time, but wasn’t), the whole thing is worth a listen.
What I love most about the songs is that you can tell Hartman was deeply invested in his Bible—every song is a meditation on or retelling of a passage of scripture or scriptural themes. Petra’s bass player, Mark Kelly, put it this way in an interview: “Every song Bob has ever written has been a Bible lesson or Bible study in and of itself.” I’ll close out this week with a look from the actual tour that ended up being the first concert I ever saw. Everything is as I remembered it, including Hartman’s silly beret and Kelly’s ridiculous “space boots.” I was utterly mesmerized. And this is possibly the best song Hartman ever wrote: “It Is Finished.” At least, it’s my favorite!