I Chose Liberty - Ludwig von Mises Institute

216 I Chose Liberty: Autobiographies of Contemporary Libertarians
which I am gazing now, I would see another star about as far as that one is from me now.
But then if I were on that star, gazing again in the same direction, once again I would see a
star about the same distance away. And so on. But that means the universe may be endless!”
But I also thought, “Whatever the case, I am here on earth and will just need to make the
best of it, whatever the size of the universe.” I suppose I was confused, but in a philosophical
way. Another time, as I was sitting at a train station in Budapest, I mused about all the people
milling about. “I wonder whether the fact that I am looking at and thinking about the people
would have to be included in a very detailed biography about them.” Later I found this
thought relevant to metaphysical and epistemological concerns, namely, the question whether
reality is altered by one’s perception of that reality. I never thought it would have to be, at
least not in most cases (and in some apparent counter-examples, it seems that perception
does not “alter” reality directly but rather through some resultant action).
To the extent that I engaged in philosophical thinking as a child I found it exciting,
but life proved to be a persistent distraction. So I did not really begin my philosophical
education in earnest until my early 20s, when I had enough peace and quiet, as an enlisted
man in the U.S. Air Force, to do so.
In 1960 I was in the United States Air Force, stationed at Andrews Air Force Base near
Washington, D.C. I had become interested in politics again after watching the Kennedy-
Nixon debates, and I was further provoked by an article by William F. Buckley, Jr. in Esquire,
“Why Don’t We Complain.” Buckley suggested that the reason violent protests occur in
relatively free societies is that people suppress their dissatisfactions until they cannot be
contained, then blow their cork. The notion that complaining is an honorable undertaking
suited me. I wrote to Buckley about the article and he responded with a very friendly note.
(Throughout the years I would remain on reasonably civil terms with Buckley, though very
critical of his nasty treatment of Ayn Rand. In April 1982 I became one of the few libertarians
he would invite on “Firing Line.” I interviewed Buckley for Reason magazine in 1982,
right after my appearance on “Firing Line.”) After hearing from Buckley, I subscribed to his
magazine, National Review. In it I saw an ad for Classic Books Club and signed up, acquiring
fairly good editions and selections of works by Plato, Cicero, Aristotle, Montaigne, Locke,
and others. All this mental ferment inspired me to pursue more ambitious educational goals
than I had previously envisioned. (In 1976 I would finally publish an essay in his magazine,
on the moral element in people’s support of government regulations!)
In the fall of 1960 the little Andrews theater group I had helped found put on The
Night of January 16th, Ayn Rand’s popular play. I acted the part of a character who jumps
up during the trial and confesses so as to save the accused heroine—if I recall correctly.
Each night of the performance of the play we selected a group from the audience to be
jurors. And then, after the verdict, we all went to a bar to debate what the verdict ought
to have been. It was a fascinating exercise and I found the issues intriguing. We could
never decide on the basis of the facts but had to reveal our sympathies for the moral traits
of the characters.
I hadn’t by then become interested in Ayn Rand—didn’t even know she had written
anything else. I was rather illiterate at the time, trying hard to get my High School Equivalency
degree and prepare to go to night college. (I took a philosophy course from Peter