Nearly a decade ago, the phrase “you’ll own nothing and you’ll be happy” entered the public conversation via a World Economic Forum essay by Ida Auken (“Welcome to 2030. I own nothing, have no privacy, and life has never been better”).

Auken lauded “shared services” as an increasingly normal way of life. Why “own” a car, a refrigerator, or even your own clothes, when you could just pay a monthly subscription fee and let others worry about tire wear, blown compressors, jeans going out of fashion, etc.?

We’re already well into the era of “subscription” versus “ownership,” starting with digital media. Movie, TV shows, and books have largely moved off of VHS, DVD, Blu-Ray, and paper and into the cloud. Even if you “buy” them, even if you download them, they tend to be bound to particular devices and/or particular subscriptions, and to terms of service with fine print that lets them be taken away at will.

With physical hardware, the “subscription” era seems to have started with industrial and farm equipment (no “right of repair” — you pay John Deere for that, or your tractor sits there and does nothing), then moved on to cars. We’ve all heard the howls from e.g. Tesla “owners” over pretty much everything their cars can do depending on them continuing to pay Elon Musk a little something every month for life.

I’ve had my quibbles with all of the above for some time, but the unhappiness of owning nothing really got to me this morning as I watched a video from Fortnine (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uh4Ebv2HWyw) about the latest, greatest electric motorcycle.

I love two-wheeled vehicles. I love electric vehicles. I used to ride electric bicycles, but switched to internal combustion motorcycles for reasons of range and speed. I’ve kept my eye on electric motorcycles, waiting for falling prices and rising performance to meet at a point my budget allows. By the time it gets there, will I really want it anymore?

The  battery-powered Stark Varg boasts 80 horsepower and a 50-113 mile range (50 for wide open road, 113 under urban low-speed, stop-and-start conditions). Nice bike for its class.

BUT! If you want the bike to do everything the bike CAN do, you’ll pay Varg $15 a month, every month, for as long as you “own” it (unless they change their monthly rate) — and you’ll pay $12,500 (at the moment) to “own” it.

In my opinion, if I pay to own something, I’ve paid to own all the things it can do … assuming I can figure out how to make it do those things.

The manufacturers of “‘owned,’ but with subscription-only features” goods, though, frown on homebrew tinkerers jail-breaking those products instead of forking over cash in perpetuity. And they’ve got “intellectual property” law on their side. They don’t have to care about your happiness.

Until we dump the pernicious fiction of “intellectual property,” we’ll just have to hope the market undercuts these perpetual subscription rackets with “you bought it — it’s yours — enjoy!” alternatives.

And I suspect the market will do exactly that.

Thomas L. Knapp (X: @thomaslknapp | Bluesky: @knappster.bsky.social | Mastodon: @knappster) is director and senior news analyst at the William Lloyd Garrison Center for Libertarian Advocacy Journalism (thegarrisoncenter.org). He lives and works in north central Florida.

PUBLICATION/CITATION HISTORY

I write three syndicated columns a week, and the vast majority of them could easily run with the title “Stupid and Evil US Government Action of the Day.”

There’s almost always a specific “news hook” — whatever story happens to be dominating headlines and the public conversation — and my take often focuses on the unconstitutionality of this or that action of the federal government’s legislative, executive, or judicial branch (sometimes all three).

I also often close with my favorite quote from 19th century anarchist Lysander Spooner:

“But whether the Constitution really be one thing, or another, this much is certain — that it has either authorized such a government as we have had, or has been powerless to prevent it. In either case, it is unfit to exist.”

Now that I’ve thoroughly buried the lede, which isn’t even a “news hook” (I’m breaking ALL the rules today, aren’t I?), let’s get to the big question raised by Spooner’s “authorized … or has been powerless to prevent” observation:

Does the US government, as described in the US Constitution, even exist?

I say it doesn’t, and as evidence for my claim, I’m going to talk about recipes.

That, you see, is what a constitution is: A recipe for government. It’s made of ingredients, instructions, and warnings.

Ingredients for sugar cookies: 1 cup of butter, 2/3 cup of granulated sugar, and 2 cups of flour.

Instructions: Mix the ingredients, form into individual cookies, bake at 325 degrees for 15 minutes. Cool/rest for 15 minutes.

Warnings: Don’t over-bake! Don’t skip the cooling time!

If I use vinegar instead of butter, salt instead of sugar, and garlic powder instead of flour, bake it as a whole mass for an hour at 450 degrees, then immediately serve it, I made something. But I think you’ll agree that what I made was NOT a batch of sugar cookies.

The Constitution says Congress “shall make no law … abridging the freedom of speech.” If the organization that claims to be Congress makes such a law, is that organization actually Congress? Is it butter, or vinegar?

The Constitution says that “No Money shall be drawn from the Treasury, but in Consequence of Appropriations made by Law.” If the person claiming to be president spends money on things that Congress didn’t appropriate the money for, is that person really the president? Is he or she sugar, or salt?

The Constitution vests the judicial power of the United States in the Supreme Court. If the organization claiming to be the Supreme Court ignores the constraints and requirements of the Constitution itself in its rulings, is that organization really that court? Is it flour, or garlic powder?

The dish we’ve been served for decades — perhaps even from the very beginning — is not “constitutional government.”

A recipe is powerless to prevent incompetent or mischievous cooks from ruining the dish. Those who  want “constitutional government” and think it’s  possible need to fire the entire kitchen staff and start fresh.

But personally, I doubt that the recipe would produce the results it claims even if followed.

Thomas L. Knapp (X: @thomaslknapp | Bluesky: @knappster.bsky.social | Mastodon: @knappster) is director and senior news analyst at the William Lloyd Garrison Center for Libertarian Advocacy Journalism (thegarrisoncenter.org). He lives and works in north central Florida.

PUBLICATION/CITATION HISTORY

On January 14, a “war powers resolution” went down to defeat in the US Senate on a 50-50 vote, with vice president JD Vance breaking the tie.

The resolution, which would have required US president Donald Trump to at least casually mention to Congress that he planned more military misadventures in Venezuela before, rather than after, launching such misadventures, was a half-hearted half-measure, but somehow only half of US Senators could bring themselves to go even that far.

Let’s go over the way things are supposed to work:

The US Constitution assigns the power to declare war to Congress, not to the president.

If the president attacks another country without such a declaration, it’s not a war, it’s just a crime  — a “high crime” legally meriting and ethically requiring that president’s impeachment and removal from office.

Unfortunately,  presidents have been getting away with such crimes on a routine basis since the end of World War 2. The list is too long to fit in an op-ed, but a few high points include Korea, Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan.

Those conflicts weren’t wars, at least so far as US law was concerned. They were criminal acts carried out by lawless presidents with the acquiescence — and often co-conspiracy — of Congress.

Toward the end of the Vietnam fiasco, Congress passed (and overrode Richard Nixon’s veto of) something called the War Powers Resolution of 1973.

Nixon’s veto message claimed that the Resolution included “unconstitutional restrictions” on his power to kill as many people as he pleased, when and how it pleased him to kill those people.

What it actually included was an unconstitutional — absent ratification by 3/4 of the states’ legislatures —  repeal of the Constitution’s Article I, Section 8 assignment of the power to declare war solely and exclusively to Congress.

The Resolution supposedly gave the president wiggle room to engage in illegal military operations if he  got congressional “authorization” or made up a “national emergency,” and as long as he subsequently bothered to tell Congress about it.

Why would Congress (a notoriously power-hungry body) try so hard to give up its power to declare war? Because if there’s anything a politician hates more than he or she loves power, it’s being held responsible for the consequences of exercising that power. By trying to give up its power, Congress thought it could also rid itself of culpability.

The Senate had one job to do. It wasn’t an especially hard job, it wouldn’t have had any great effect (even if it passed the House, Trump would have vetoed it), and it didn’t even meet the bare minimum constitutional standard.

And yet 50 Senators, and the vice-president acting as president of the Senate, couldn’t bring themselves to get that one little tiny, insignificant job done.

One more confirmation of Lysander Spooner’s observation:

“But whether the Constitution really be one thing, or another, this much is certain — that it has either authorized such a government as we have had, or has been powerless to prevent it. In either case, it is unfit to exist.”

Thomas L. Knapp (X: @thomaslknapp | Bluesky: @knappster.bsky.social | Mastodon: @knappster) is director and senior news analyst at the William Lloyd Garrison Center for Libertarian Advocacy Journalism (thegarrisoncenter.org). He lives and works in north central Florida.

PUBLICATION/CITATION HISTORY