We think we love freedom so much that we’re willing to die for it.
On battlefields, in prison cells, at the picket lines.
At least, that’s the story we tell ourselves.
But when you strip the platitudes away and look beyond the cheap talk, how much do we actually value our freedom?
In a few generations, most Americans traded their rights to freely decide what to do with their farms for highly-regulated boxes and jobs of the city.
Yes, these jobs were more stable than the fickle crops and climate these industrialized workers left behind.
But with them came the restraints of rigid working hours, lesser pay and the whims of employers who frequently pitted labor against itself.
Workers lost the freedom to roam the open fields, spend time with their families and decide for themselves how they wanted to spend their time.
And because many of their jobs depended on bosses and union leaders who trade votes for influence or court sensitive advertisers many also gave up their political freedoms, too.
It took even less time for the French revolutionaries to switch from shouting “Liberty! Egality! Fraternity!” to “Long live Napoleon!”
Many ex-cons who swear they’ll never go back to prison deliberately make choices that will put them there again.
We should not look down on any of these people for the choices they make. If put in similar situations we will most likely make the same ones ourselves.
We may already have.
When you sign up for something that claims to be “free”, what it really means is that freedom is the price tag.
The cost is your free time. Freedom from advertisers. Freedom from being quantified, repackaged and sold.
As for when we aren’t consuming…
How many of us dreamed of becoming our own bosses, of becoming rich and famous from our own art, of making a lasting impact on our societies—only to trade these dreams in for a steady paycheck and free snacks?
It might not look like a cage because Forbes called it “a great place to work”.
We may not feel the cuffs because free food, good benefits and the promise of promotion or prestige numb us to their bite.
But if you find yourself wanting to sleep in rather than go to work.
If you catch yourself muttering, “I hate my job”, “I hate my life” or worse, “I hate myself” during the day.
If all you can do is laugh at the stupidity, mundanity and sheer monotony that augurs no end in sight…
Then what value have you really placed on your freedom?
Sure, there are plenty of reasons why the trade is worth it. When we give up some independence to join a community, for example, what we get is freedom from danger.
We might put up with the tyranny of ads in exchange for the freedoms afforded by a larger social network.
All good—so long as we knew what we were getting into.
So long as we understand the long-ranging, uncertain-but-not-entirely-unpredictable, consequences of where the paths in the road are leading, rather than blindly stumbling onward.
Until we find ourselves trapped and miserable.
In a place we can’t believe we freely chose.