The Joy of Freedom: An Economist's Odyssey, by David R. Henderson. Prentice Hall, 2002, 361 + xx pages.

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The Pursuit of Life, Liberty, and Economics

by Donald J. Boudreaux

I wasn't chomping at the bit to read this book. It's aimed principally at non-economists and non-libertarians, explaining to them the merits and morals of free markets as well as the demerits and depravity of the state. I expected to agree with nearly all of Henderson's arguments, but I read the book only because I'm always on the lookout for good books to recommend to people who are unfamiliar with the freedom philosophy. I didn't expect it to be a page-turner. I was wrong. Very wrong. This is one heck of a good book!

The range of government interventions that Henderson tackles is familiar. It includes, among others, Medicare, Social Security, minimum-wage legislation, government schools, affirmative action, occupational-licensing statutes, and taxation. And he weaves his case against these interventions into a text that persuasively explains the logic of how private property rights and freedom of contract either solve or altogether avoid nearly all of the problems allegedly requiring government regulation. Nothing new here.

But Henderson's wit, his passion, his skillful use of anecdotes and personal experiences, and his success at teaching rather than preaching make this book a genuine joy to read, even for those of us long steeped in the principles of free markets.

Readers of this magazine understand that freedom isn't important because of its abstract beauty, its theoretical consistency, or its effects on whatever aggregate you choose to call "society." It's important because it is indispensable to the flourishing of each individual. To be free is for you to be as fully as possible in charge of your potential.

David Henderson understands this. His case for freedom comes from his heart, but it is informed by his excellent mind that is a master of economics. This is one feature of the book that sets it apart from almost all others in its genre. Here we have an economist, using economics, making a passionate and persuasive case for personal freedom — a case that does not begin with cold abstractions ("consumers," "workers," "retirees"), but, instead, with the writer's soul. Even an incorrigible statist who reads the book and disagrees with all of its points would nevertheless have to conclude that Henderson's passion for freedom is rooted in Henderson's humanity — in his affecting insistence that his personal experiences and the reflections that these trigger properly inform his economics and his policy analysis.

Of course, Henderson is not the only economist who taps real-life experience as a source of economic lessons and policy proposals. But he is one of the very few good economists who do so. To pull this off requires the rare ability to discern the general truths that mingle always with a jumble of particular, fleeting details — to navigate deftly between the general and the particular — and to display these truths in all of their timeless glory in ways that every reader understands is relevant to the actual events of his life.

To witness the achievement of this difficult task page after page is inspiring. And that's what I witnessed in Henderson's book.

Having said this, I have a confession. Try as I might, I can't describe satisfactorily just what it is about this book that appeals to me so powerfully. I love good economics — this book has plenty of that. I love passion — Henderson offers plenty of that, too, for both freedom and for economics. I love creative and clear communication — it sparkles on each page. I love stories — interesting ones abound here. I love the unexpected — lots of that. (One of the nicest features of this book is the freshness of the anecdotes and data that Henderson uses to make his points. He obviously worked hard, and succeeded, at avoiding stale stories and routine lines of argument.) I love intellectual courage — Henderson shows his by taking his arguments seriously and not flinching from drawing sometimes very radical conclusions. While at one level this is an introductory book, it is at another level a book for the ages. Henderson wants to make a solid case for free markets and liberty and obviously isn't much concerned with appearing "reasonable" to the crowd whose principal concern is political practicality. He knows (and shows) that the free market is almost always superior to state intervention, even for those areas that much polite, market-oriented company regard as "obviously" needing government oversight.

Still, there's something more about this book that I can't quite put my finger on, but that appeals to me deeply. I wish I could pin it down; I can't, but it's there. In lieu of identifying it, I offer some specimens of how Henderson looks at government intervention.

On drug prohibition, Henderson says that government treats us as ignorant "pets" — but "with this difference: When your pet misbehaves, you don't lock him up with convicted murderers and pretend that you're doing it for his own good."

On the politics inevitably swarming about the Federal Communications Commission, Henderson has the most succinct explanation I've read about why Congress refuses to privatize the electromagnetic spectrum. Maintaining government ownership of the spectrum ensures that politicians keep the privilege of determining which users get to enjoy its benefit: "Without that power, people wouldn't invite him [a congressman] to dinners and hunting parties as frequently, would contribute less to his campaign fund, and would return his calls less quickly, if at all. In short, he would be a less important man in Washington, and probably a less wealthy one." Henderson goes on to tell the story of how Lyndon Johnson used his political influence while in Congress to buy a Texas radio station, and how he then made a fortune by securing greater wartime rations of materials for those firms that bought advertising time on his station.

On government efforts to impose racial and other quotas on various venues of our lives: Henderson exposes these efforts as nothing less than violations of our freedom of association. His summary of the historical research on racial segregation — particularly that done by Jennifer Roback Morse on how Jim Crow-era state governments had to force Southern streetcar companies to segregate blacks from whites — is a treasure.

On the exclusionary and racist history of labor unions, Henderson points out that the famous line from what we now understand to be one of Al Gore's favorite boyhood songs — "Look for the Union Label" — was created in the 1880s "as a way to tell customers that a product was made by white laborers rather than by Chinese."

On the minimum wage, we learn that the Otis Elevator Company lobbied in the 1960s for increasing the minimum wage as a means of speeding up the obsolescence of human-operated elevators and, thereby, raising the demand for Otis's own automatic elevators.

And on the Internal Revenue Service, Henderson has what is perhaps my favorite line in the book: "Calling taxpayers customers of the IRS is like calling chickens customers of the egg farmer."

This book is both passionate and reasoned. Henderson shows that good economics and devotion to liberty and human dignity complement each other perfectly. Buy this book, read it, read it again, recommend it to friends, and refer to it repeatedly for a telling statistic or a brilliant insight. It's a real joy.

© Copyright 2010, Liberty Foundation

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