Liberty. Freedom. Justice. Equality. Rights. Privilege. Fairness.
(This list could continue to include hundreds of words and thousand of phrases.)
Conservatives, liberals, progressives, libertarians… each group (and subgroup) has a different understanding of what these and other basic political terms mean. As a result, we talk past each other, believing we’re discussing the same concepts from the same perspectives when really there’s little to no shared understanding between the lexicons of ideologies.
I define a “right” as something inherently independent of the actions of other people. As a result, I struggle with notions of a “right” to education or healthcare because those both require that someone else be persuaded (or required) to provide the underlying service. What if nobody wants to be a teacher, nurse, or doctor? Do we force people in professions? In my worldview, these are privileges of living within a community. We use community resources to provide for some services, persuading other community members to pursue the necessary professions.
Meanwhile, other people view rights from the notion of “positive rights” — things ensured by government. There is a “right” to quite a lot of things I wouldn’t consider government’s responsibility. As a result, discussing rights leads to a conflict of not mere political theory, but a basic conflict between differing languages.
Language is instantaneous. When I consider “rights” I don’t run through the 16 definitions appearing in my Oxford Dictionary of American English. Beyond the core context clues in a phrase (right turn, right answer, doing the right thing), we process language in milliseconds. To change my internal lookup tables would require years, because that dictionary is the result of 50 years of associations. The best I can do is pause before responding to another definition of “rights” that might not be the one I prioritize.
As someone with a doctorate in rhetoric, you’d imagine I would know what words mean, but what I really know is that words mean different things to different people.
I want freedom from interference in my life, and the freedom to make my own choices. The entire “negative liberty” model bothers me rhetorically, since I consider limits on government a path toward the “freedom to…” think and act according to my own needs and desires. (We need better labels than positive and negative when someone in the “negative” group views his or her approach as a positive outcome.)
If we cannot agree on freedom, maybe there’s some hope we could agree on liberty as word. Probably not, though.
Liberty brings to mind “to be liberated from” some condition. Once again, we end up with different views of liberty and different framing of conversations. To a conservative or libertarian, to be liberated meant to also be someone alone. There’s an existential angst lurking behind liberty. Okay, you’ve been liberated. Now what will you choose to do?
The world “liberal” to me has the European connotation, not the American understanding of liberalism. I consider “liberalization” of policy to be defined by less regulation and less direct involvement of government in my life.
If we process the world using the same words for two or more vastly differently frames of interpretation, how do we find common ground on serious issues?
It is likely that our vastly different dictionaries demonstrate why we might not find ways to collaborate and solve problems. We really don’t speak the same language, only the same words.