58. Down on All Fours With Rothbard

58

NANDO PELUSI

DOWN ON ALL FOURS WITH ROTHBARD

IN MY FIRST MEETING with Murray, Michael Edelstein (pal of Walter Block) and I stopped by his office, where Michael discussed a nagging backache. Murray loudly proclaimed a wonderful exercise described by an ancient fakir. He promptly got down on all fours, and lifted his leg as a dog might. The door was ajar, and I saw several students peek in and scurry off. After our introductions, Murray signed a copy of a tract on monetary policy for me, giving a warm smile and asked about my interests. Then, we attended his brilliant class on socialism and unintended consequences. I was riveted, but noticed minimal responses from the students.

I was new to libertarian philosophy. As a proud young pinko in the early 80s weaned on “progressive” ideas from the New York Times, philosophy classes at the New School in New York City, the School of Visual Arts, Beat poets, and the Village Voice, and determined to dedicate my life to art and rock ‘n’ roll, I found myself amidst no shortage of like-minded types.

Michael and I hit it off debating gun control, socialism, taxation, the proper role of government, etc. He patiently and lucidly dismantled every objection I offered to libertarian thinking, especially the non-aggression principle. To my further dismay, he showed how libertarian approaches were generally better solutions to practical problems as well, such as supplying medical options to people of very restricted means.

After I shook off my somnambulistic adherence to the ideology I inherited from my “education,” he introduced me to Walter Block and Murray Rothbard. The first book I read on libertarian philosophy was Walter’s Defending the Undefendable, a giddy joyride in logic and principle. These erudite thinkers took an interest in a pinko with lots of questions, and encouraged me to pursue my studies for a Ph.D. in psychology.

After reading and rethinking many premises I held about society, morality, and plain old justice, such as the right of a third party to forcibly intervene between consenting adults, the discussions with Murray, Michael, and Walter caused me to be somewhat of an anomaly among psychologists and colleagues (a mostly socialist lot). For this, I thank them.

As with Albert Ellis, a psychology mentor, Rothbard, Block, and Edelstein have challenged my dogmas forthrightly, and I consider them mentors too. OK, mentors from Hell, but still.

For Murray’s 60th birthday party presented by the Mises Institute at the Waldorf, I played the part of the young Murray in his play, “Mozart was a Red.” This was Murray’s satirical take on Ayn Rand’s Objectivists, a group he once attended. I played him as a genial Everyman surrounded by rigid dogmatists who lambasted him for asking innocent, but penetrating questions. It got great laughs, and Murray took this surprise rendition of his dormant play with great humor.

I later did a stand-up routine that roasted him with my imitation, recounting some of the experiences I had with him, such as the ancient fakir incident. He took all this attention graciously, and shook my hand as I passed him by. Years later, I attended a lecture given by Bill Bradford, editor of Liberty, and in the middle of it, he paused, pointed me out and shouted, “You’re Murray Rothbard! You’re great!” The audience was left to wonder.

So how did Murray handle the unengaged students? At a Chinese restaurant on the Upper West Side with Murray and a few of his acolytes, I asked him how he stayed so cheerful and humorous despite the minimal classroom response. He laughed and said, “I lay it out as I see it and I figure that if they get it, great. If they don’t? Ha! The heck with ’em!”

Nando Pelusi, Ph.D., is a psychologist in private practice in New York City.