May 29, 2026
Today I want to talk about the rise of Marxism in the world today. Unlike most letters, I’m less certain I’m on solid ground today. I am exploring thoughts that want to be expressed, to see if I can decipher what I might be able to learn from them.
It’s difficult to pin down a precise definition of Marxism in order to evaluate what I am attempting to explore. Positive association with Marxism has increased over the course of my lifetime, particularly amongst young people. Positive attitudes toward socialism have risen even more, with young people holding slightly more positive attitudes toward socialism than capitalism these days. Marxism and socialism are not the same thing, though they are cousins. Socialism has, at times, been used to describe developed nations with large and generous social welfare programs. Marxism tends toward more rigidity, more absolutism, and more totalitarianism. I’m not sure I can give a precise dividing line, which makes this exploration all the harder. But we’ll see how we can do.
The first thing to note is that Marxism tends to define itself in opposition to capitalism. This may, in fact, be the root of my challenge with Marxism: any ideology that defines itself in opposition to something propagates suffering.
Growing up in small town Texas in the 1980s and 1990s, I never encountered Marxists, nor many ideas genuinely influenced by Marx. Though I attended a liberal arts university, that university still sat in Texas and tended toward conservatism, meaning I encountered Marxist ideology but those interactions were limited.
As I moved to the coasts I began to encounter more people genuinely influenced by Marxist ideology, which I found pretty jarring. And over the last decade or so, I’ve watched Marxism gain in popularity. I have friends who have become self avowed Marxists, and I see Marxist influence in mainstream media (not to mention social media) in ways that just didn’t exist twenty years ago.
To the degree I’ve engaged with Marxists, I’ve noticed a couple things. First, their arguments tend toward tautology: capitalism is bad plus evidence equals capitalism is bad. I’m yet to encounter Marxists who seem aware that their premise appears to rest on a foundation of faith (capitalism is bad), which leads me to suspect that Marxism tends to fill the human need for religion (or, as I discussed yesterday, the deep seated human need for a god). Second, I’ve struggled to engage in good faith debates with Marxists, and notice public figures who struggled similarly: when presented with contrary evidence, my observation is that Marxists tend to resort to ad hominem attacks. This reliance on personal attacks reinforces my sense that Marxism tends toward religious significance for the practitioner: the ad hominem attacks very much remind me of the behavior of the fundamentalists among whom I grew up. Finally, I’ve noticed that Marxist definitions of capitalism tend to load assumptions onto capitalism that, in my view, don’t necessarily belong. This observation is related to the “capitalism is bad” foundation of faith, but focuses more on how it plays out. Let me explore this for a minute.
The basic premise of capitalism is one of private ownership of capital (sometimes referred to as “the means of production”). What differentiates capitalism from other economic systems is the right of individual ownership, whereas other economic models in agrarian and post-agrarian societies tended toward state ownership of these means of production. Most societies through history have had elements of private ownership and market dynamics, and most societies have had elements of state ownership and governmental control over markets: capitalism is thus less an absolute and more a continuum over time.
From what I can tell, the Marxist tends to argue things like “capitalism is a system where all citizens rely on the market for survival”, which, while not wrong isn’t entirely distinct from other economies: in all societies people play a role in contributing to society, but also rely on others playing their role in ensuring collective wellbeing. I’ve also heard arguments like “capitalism is a system that leads to greed” which I think fundamentally misunderstands the human condition: capitalism doesn’t lead to greed; greed is embedded in each of us. Most commonly Marxists will argue that capitalism is fundamentally exploitative, causing exploitation of the powerless by the powerful. Again, I think this fundamentally misunderstands where the attribution lies: all forms of political economy suffer from ugly incidents of exploitation of the powerless by the powerful; capitalism is by no means unique in this regard. Finally, Marxists tend to bury interlocutors with evidence that bad things happened in capitalist societies, implying that the sheer weight of bad things is evidence of a broken system. And yet these same participants seem incapable of acknowledging or wrestling with the bad things that happened anywhere and everywhere Marxism has been practiced. My overarching impression from these interactions is that the Marxist desperately wants to avoid evaluating the human condition, and especially the darkness harbored in their own hearth, and clings to the unacknowledged illusion they can eliminate the darkness in their hearts by eliminating capitalism.
To be very clear: the Marxists are not wrong that lots of bad things have happened in capitalist societies. Many of the examples they cite are real and regrettable. Some of the examples might even be more prone to occur in capitalist societies than non-capitalist societies. But, so far as I can tell, because Marxists are unwilling to grapple with the darkness that rests in human hearts, they are unwilling to recognize that any political and economic system will find itself perpetuating different flavors of bad behavior precisely because of these fundamental human flaws.
I read Plato’s Republic my first semester in college. When introduced to the idea of a philosopher king (roughly, someone or a group of someones so wise and knowledgeable that the rest of us should submit absolute authority to them) I instantly thought “I want that job!” I spent the next couple weeks imagining I had the role. Someone cut me in line at fast food restaurant and I thought “when I am philosopher king, this type of behavior will be punished”. The next day someone cut me off in traffic, and I started envisioning the punishment system I would create to handle such malfeasance. Within a few days I found myself spending more and more time creating more and more elaborate punishment systems for increasingly trivial misbehavior. In other words, I was becoming a tyrant. I found this experience deeply humbling, and have had a deep appreciation for the potential for power to corrupt ever since.
My sense is that Marxists’ goal is for the rest of us to turn both political and economic power over to them, the enlightened, so that they can direct our behavior accordingly. The problem, so far as I can tell, is that they aspire to the role of philosopher king, without having done the introspection to recognize and appreciate they are not prepared to wield the type of power they wish to possess.
Pretty much everywhere Marxism has been employed at the national level has been an economic and humanitarian disaster. I’m unaware of any sincere efforts by Marxists to explore why this might be; so far as I can tell they blame capitalism using rather tortured logic. Even within the United States, the cities and states that have most employed Marxist ideology have been atrociously governed over the last decade or two. So far as I can tell, the Marxist response to these failures has been to demand more power to exert more influence and control over more levers of economic and political power, as if their failures were all created by a lack of control and power and influence.
I am familiar with this line of thinking (“I could have succeeded, if only I had possessed more power and authority”), and have pursued that line of thinking not infrequently over the course of my life. It’s seductive to believe that the solutions to my failures were a lack of power, and that if I had only amassed more power I could have generated better results.
In healthy, functional organizations (of which I’ve been fortunate to participate in several), people are conferred a small amount of power and influence. When they wield that power and influence wisely, they are rewarded with more; when they wield that power and influence poorly, they see their power and influence decline. That concept is by no means new: the Parable of the Talents suggests even God rewards who use their gifts wisely, and retracts wasted gifts. But, rather than make honest assessments of their failures and learn from mistakes, the most Marxist leaning governments and institutions seem hellbent on solving their institutional failures by expanding their sphere of control and influence…without any apparent awareness that expanding power and influence built on such a rickety foundation would inevitably lead to an increase in suffering.
It occurs to me, as I write, that my real frustration is with toxic feminine energy. My frustration with Marxists is similar to my frustration with the friends I have described going through divorce: the sense that folks are indiscriminately destroying things around them precisely because they aren’t wiling to let go of their inner demons.
One recurring struggle for me over the last several years has been precisely this idea of how to manage this toxic feminine energy. I have observed myself tempted to revert back to stereotypes, namely the use of physical force or aggression. But it’s entirely clear to me that the problems we’re watching emerge can’t be solved with physical force and aggression. Perhaps said differently: the solution to toxic femininity is not toxic masculinity. To be fair, I’ve looked for other levers to handle toxic feminine energy too: appeals to logic or emotion, appeals to tradition, or appeals to prior agreement. None have worked, not for me nor others I have counseled.
Partly what I’ve learned from these interactions is that, underlying the toxicity, is a more fundamental truth: the feminine energy is looking to redefine things. Old traditions and agreements no longer carry weight with feminine energy because (at least some of) those old traditions and agreements need to die off. As I’ve said before, we’re in a season of death, and it’s the feminine energy that will help us destroy the old in order to make space for the new. What I also understand, at least partly from my own experience, is that there are healthy and unhealthy ways of letting go of the old in order to make space for the new. My frustrations, I think, stem from a recognition that we are too stuck exercising unhealthy ways of letting go of the old.
Which brings me back to some prior ideas. Namely, that of being the light in the storm. But also that of leveraging masculine energy to set clear boundaries, so that feminine energy can do the needed work of renewal within a safe space. One of my challenges throughout this journey has been understanding that masculine energy inherently rests on some form of authority, whether that authority be born of status, strength, or enforcing past agreements. What I am starting to understand and appreciate is masculine energy can harness a deeper form of authority: one born of alignment and authenticity. That form of authority is very hard to define, and even hard to point out with precision. But you know it when you see it. Leland, actually, wields this form of authority pretty effectively at his young age: when you feel sufficiently strongly about something you speak with an authority that convinces those who otherwise wield far more power than you do to submit, or at least align. It’s honestly pretty remarkable to watch, and serves as a pretty clear reminder that one need not possess any traditional markers of power other than inner alignment and authenticity. Not everyone will submit, and that’s fine: those who are meant to will come along for the ride and experience healthier transformations than those who do not.
The next thought that comes to me as I write harkens back to the idea that the storm is no longer forming in the distance, but making first contact. I’ve spent the last few years clumsily and ineffectively attempting to warn others about the coming storm. I no longer need to issue warnings: the storm is here; everyone senses it. Many (and probably most) will not listen to my proposed solutions, and that is fine. As the urgency inevitably increases, some will. I will likely know the difference by those who demand, via their actions, that I set clear and firm boundaries. Those who invite the boundaries to be set, and then submit to those boundaries, will experience a healthier transformation than those who do not. I can focus my energy accordingly.
Directionally, I think folks are going to experience the coming storm as something like armageddon. I don’t mean to suggest that the world is literally ending, and that folks will be physically relocating to either heaven or hell. But I do mean that light and dark energy are separating, and that people are increasingly going to have to choose, and not deciding is still a choice. Those who hold onto their demons are likely to experience something akin to hell (even moreso than their current state of suffering). Those who let go are going to experience a turbulent transition (I tend to think of Moses leading folks out into the wilderness). Very roughly I think those are the only two real choices descending upon us. I actually think this is what Jesus refers to in the latter portion of Matthew 10 (starting with verse 34).
Woof. I did not expect to go in this direction today. But that is why I write: to uncover not only what I think, but the deeper truths lying underneath. I can sense I’ve let something go today, and can rest a little as a result. And so, I bid goodbye for today.
I love you both. Thank you for participating in this exercise. May you someday get at least a fraction as much benefit from these writings as I do.
Love,
Dad
Letters to Leland 