Editorial

At the start of the new millenium, libertarians, like everyone else, wonder what to expect for the future—especially for the future of human freedom. One factor shaping that future is the growth of technology. The growth of computer power and the Internet, the even faster growth of genetic technology, and the hope of renewed support for manned space travel lead us to anticipate a wider range of choices opening up before us.

But the growth of technology isn't a sure thing. Technological progress isn't an Unmoved Mover. The political and economic institutions of a society can change its course, or even stop it entirely. Such things have happened before in history.

For one notable example, consider the Chinese maritime empire of the early 15th century. At this time, Chinese shipbuilding was the most advanced on Earth; junks with up to nine masts attained tonnages several times that of Western ships and were made seaworthy by internal compartmentalization. Navigation by compass was well developed in China long before it reached the west.

In 1405, Cheng Ho, a eunuch in the imperial court of the early Ming Dynasty, took command of a fleet of 300 ships and sailed south, to the Indian Ocean, and then west. His fleet travelled as far as the coast of Africa, from which he brought back such treasures as giraffes for the imperial menagerie. Supported by the shipbuilding industry of Nanking, the fleet made a start on opening up the entire Indian Ocean to Chinese trade, promising to create the kind of trade empire that later made Britain the world's greatest power.

But in China, the imperial bureaucracy opposed further voyages. The mandarins had no use for foreign countries; everything worth having, they argued, already existed in China, needing only to be cultivated under their guidance. They held merchants and craftsmen in contempt, preferring study of the Confucian classics to practical knowledge. And when the capital was moved from Nanking, a seaport, back to Peking, far inland, their influence grew strong enough to end China's maritime ventures. Cheng How and his seamen were recalled and the fleet was destroyed.

Under the Bureaucracy, China's technological progress stagnated. And when contact was established between China and the West, it was by Western, not Chinese fleets.

Obviously, the United States, and the West generally, now have their own anti-technological movements, convinced there is nothing to be gained from exploration and suspicious of trade and technology. New inventions meet with their suspicion and that of much of the public. For example, experiments in mammalian cloning promptly brought demands for the suppression of any attempt to apply it to human reproduction, long before such attempts were made. Libertarians and many science fiction readers and writers may believe that cloning is perfectly legitimate, so long as it is voluntary and the clones have full human rights; not many other people agree. Antiscientific views from leftist postmodernism to rightist fundamentalism are widespread. Libertarians need to oppose such movements if we wish to preserve the future for freedom. >