Libertarian and proud
March 2003
by Mike Spinney

I've never been shy about my politics. Mercurial, maybe, but never shy.

My odyssey of political activism and discovery began in Maine as a Democrat with Gary Hart's failed presidential bid and George Mitchell's successful re-election bid in 1988. It continued with Joe Brennan's disappointing gubernatorial run in 1990. Then nearly stalled with Bill Clinton's upstart campaign for president in 1992. During that time I was also a young maverick in Portland's Parkside Neighborhood Association, earning the ire of my fellow members when I broke ranks and voiced my support for an unpopular (within the group) candidate for district attorney.

In 1994, my journey took a sharp turn to the right with Republican Jim Longley's unlikely Congressional victory, but thereafter, momentum stalled. Seen as an "up and comer" in Maine's political machinery, I learned that non-conformity can be a career-limiting move – and that switching parties all but kills any hope of upward mobility. Nevertheless, a new family, career change and move from Maine to Massachusetts superceded political ambition and I removed myself from the process, deigning only to register as an "unenrolled" voter.

Focusing on family and career, the 2000 presidential elections snuck up on me like a bad case of Montezuma's Revenge. Unable to ignore the growing and uncomfortable pressure, I began to pay attention to politics again. And, like a bad case of Montezuma's Revenge, it stunk.

You see, I finally got to a point in my political maturation where I realized I was being had. I just couldn't deny it any more. Uncle Sucker has his hand in my wallet at every turn and, while he nonchalantly relieves me of its meager contents, has the seeds to tell me he's going to spend my money wisely.

I won't launch into the usual diatribe over $5,000 hammers and six-figure toilet seats. No one gives a rat's tail over those sorry old jokes anymore. No, for me it's the endemic attitude in Washington (and in state capitals all over this great land) that my money is their money first. No questions. No apologies.

Sufficiently pissed in the wake of my revelation, I voted third-party in 2000, casting votes for Bay State Libertarians wherever possible and Ralph Nader as my presidential choice. Not because I thought Nader was the man for the job, but because I wanted to help push a Third Party – any Third Party – closer to the magical five percent threshold.

Of course, I failed. But I was not deterred. Since that time I have been an unabashed Libertarian, and I've noticed a curious phenomenon.

In conversation with citizens of every stripe, it is clear that I am not alone in my frustration with meddlesome government. Everyone I know is frustrated with their tax burden. Everyone I know believes that, most of the time, individuals are best served by being left to themselves. Everyone I know believes government (state and federal) is bloated in its composition and wasteful in its operation.

Yet everyone I know thinks I'm a kook when I say I'm a Libertarian.

"Oh...one of them."

"I didn't know you were a gun-nut."

"I didn't think they let you guys off the compound anymore."

It's true that the Libertarian Party hasn't exactly fielded the best slate of candidates in recent years. Harry Browne is in danger of descending to Pat Paulson status as a perpetual presidential candidate; and Carla Howell, Massachusetts' Libertarian candidate for governor, succeeded in polling a whopping one percent thanks to a stellar campaign strategy that could be summed up as "repeat the phrase 'small government is beautiful' as often as humanly possible."

But while the Libertarian Party and its candidates were mocked, the Lib's primary objective in Massachusetts – the repeal of the Commonwealth's income tax – scored a major moral victory by garnering more than 46 percent of the vote.

Perhaps there's too much blind trust in government, or maybe it's a pervasive sense of defeatism that prevents any sort of meaningful assault on America's "two party" system, but as frustrated as I am with the shrill bickering that constitutes most of what passes for political progress in this country, I am equally as frustrated with the failure of my party to tap into the vast aquifer of angst that so clearly exists in this nation.

It shocks me that this country can become so wildly outraged over corporate scandal and the criminal frittering away of billions in shareholder wealth, but not shudder at the supreme irony found in Congressional hearings on these same matters being presided over by men and women who think nothing of using billions in taxpayer dollars to buy influence through pork-barrel skullduggery.

I don't own a gun (and there's no shortage of people who should be thanking their lucky stars about that), I don't smoke dope, I'm not a conspiracy theorist, I am not now, nor have I ever been a member of a militia, and I pay my taxes on time every year. And I am a Libertarian.

One day, I have to believe, I'll be able to say that and not cause confusion when I go to my polling place, or cause heads to turn while I'm engaged in polite conversation. One day I'd like to think I'll be able to look back and say that I was part of the early groundswell that brought about meaningful change in this country.
But until that day comes, I guess I'll just have to draw strength from the quiet confidence that comes from knowing I am on the right side – and learn to endure the muffled snickering.

(Mike Spinney is a volunteer staff writer for 2 Walls Webzine)