God knows I have my gripes with this country (politically-speaking); however, the American Constitution states that “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness,” and I believe that is a fine statement! Indeed, for the time it must have been quite radical, and so I appreciate the certainty with which the statement was made. That being said, we know that for nearly a century after these words were penned in rebellion, slavery was still legal in the United States. For longer than that, even to this very day!, unjust discrimination still occurs there, as it does in Canadian society as well—to say nothing of other countries. Ours, after all, is a world that feels much smaller to us than it would have in 1776, partly because our modes of transportation are much more efficient, but also because technology and globalisation have rendered us all connected in a manner that would have been unfathomable to the Founding Fathers. And so, we are not simply confronted with the injustices of our local communities, but the injustices of the world as a whole.

But, to return to the original statement for a moment, I want you to note the ambiguity of what is said. Like a lawyer, I ask: What does it mean to have a right to life? What does it mean to be free? What does it mean to have the right to pursue happiness? These concepts sound obvious to our ears, but I am suggesting they are not. Is life the mere fact that you are breathing? Is freedom the choice to pick cotton or harvest tobacco? Is the pursuit of happiness the right only to search but find happiness—or even contentment—unattainable? Perhaps you’ll laugh at these suggestions, as you should, but these ambiguities are often exploited, as they have been throughout American history. Has it not occurred to you that the only way the barbaric practice of slavery was allowed to continue after such a groundbreaking pronouncement of human equality is that blacks were considered sub-human? Hopefully this is obvious to us all now, but alas! Slavery is not the only injustice we find in this world, and I ask you to consider, in your privileged positions: what does the fact that some lack these rights say about your own right to them?

Already before I write what comes next I can sense you, reader, shuddering. For I once heard someone remark that a lot of people have strong opinions about Karl Marx despite never having read any of his work. How right he was, so I decided I would read his Manifesto. (Das Kapital is far too daunting at thousands of pages!) What struck me most was this phrase: “the free development of each is the condition for the free development of all.” That is, Orwell’s jib that “all animals are equal, but some are more equal than others” is a nonsensical statement, yet it’s precisely the situation in which we find ourselves. I am reminded of this whenever I see pictures of the children in Gaza, or whenever I see poverty and violence. There is often little reason that I should have the life I have when there are those that go without. When I see billionaires pursuing vanity projects to take them to space, I wonder why there are so many that go hungry. Sometimes the difference between one and the other is shit luck, a bad day, and sometimes a damning choice. So, it could have been—or could be—any one of us who is fucked by the vicissitudes of fate, and can we honestly say, knowing that you’re a decent person, that you would have deserved it? Are we prepared to say that our society, that our world is just enough to permit you a second chance? People deserve not only our consideration but also our reconsideration, as one author says. So, you may forgive me if I say that Marx had a point: capitalism, or society as it stands, certainly doesn’t allocate resources effectively, or certainly not according to a rule worthy of respect. Because what should come first? Human beings, I say, always.

This whole line of thought reminded me of another idea that is central to Mahayana Buddhism, by which I don’t mean compassion, though there is that. No, I am referring to the ideal of the Bodhisattva, who is someone who vows to defer his own enlightenment to help others attain their own. I cannot think of a more moral political paradigm than this. Leaving aside religious doctrines, it is a tremendous act of empathy for one to recognise themselves in the other to a point where they will act on their behalf, even when it is not in their interest to do so. Jesus, too, embodied this ideal when he said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” (John 15:13) And this is why, if I’m ever given an Ayn Rand book, I will use it for toilet paper: selfishness is not a virtue. I daresay it only ever limits us.