GOODBYE AMERICA

For as long as I’ve lived you’ve been my only home. I’ve had a wonderful life here. Your inhabitants are almost universally kind, and I’ve become lifelong friends with many of your citizens. All of my family lives here, everyone I have ever known or loved, and I will miss them all a lot. But after 22 years, I feel impelled to leave.

According to your founders, “When in the Course of human events it becomes necessary for one [person] to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature’s God entitle them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.” Well, I certainly wouldn’t want to be disrespectful.

At first glance, you look like the greatest of all social systems. You seem like a stable and sturdy structure. People look at you and see strength. They see freedom and opportunity, democracy and unity. But a peak behind the curtain reveals a scared old man, desperately trying to maintain an illusion. Your size and complexity hide a simple truth: that you don’t physically exist. You are nothing more than a system of human interaction; not a thing in and of itself, but the result of a widespread pattern of behavior. You emerge from our beliefs, and the actions they compel us to take.

We learn our roles and play them well. The guards act like guards, the judges act like judges, the cops act like cops, and we all pay our taxes. You exist because individuals behave as if you did. Of course this seems patently obvious, but it has some frequently overlooked implications. There is an inherent problem with this sort of system, a cancer written in your genetic code, an inoperable tumor that spells your demise.

The mistake is so subtle that generations have failed to identify it. Your creators devised a way to hide it for centuries. They separated your powers, pitted ambition against ambition to mask your fatal flaw. As long as people were content, as long as your tyranny was well hidden, the problem went unnoticed. But it was there all along, metastasizing beneath the stars and stripes.

The problem is choice. I alone control my actions. Your system depends on us adhering to a certain pattern of behavior, but we each have the power to reject it. You will only survive as long as individuals believe you exist and act accordingly, but you cannot compel the choice. You can never take away my ability to choose life without you, to ignore your behavioral suggestions, to act on my own.

Oh but of course, you tried your best to conceal this fact, to convince me I needed you, to give me faith in your existence, to make me fall in love with you, to count you as my own. You started young, indirectly at first and then directly through my “education”.

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