June 2, 2026
Dear Leland and Everett,
I finished my prior note on Marxism somewhat abruptly; once I felt a sense of fatigue and release, I assumed I had accomplished the task at hand and wrapped up for the day. I now realize I have some thoughts that still want to be expressed, so I’m writing another letter on the topic. Fortunately, I think this one deserves its own exploration. I’ll start with a couple thoughts that are more specific to Marxism, and then zoom out to the problem Marxism shares with plenty of other worldviews.
To start: Marx called religion “the opium for the people”; this has been paraphrased to “the opiate for the masses”. The basic argument is that religion distracts, mollifies, and pacifies people into swallowing unending oppression.
My challenge with this view is not that I consider it entirely wrong (though I do consider it largely misguided), but rather that I think the Marxists hide behind their own finger-pointing. As far as I can tell, Marxism is the opiate for trust fund kids. Most Marxists I have encountered were remarkably privileged yet seemed to loathe the system that generated said privilege; Marxism proved a useful vehicle for hating the system, but also a useful excuse for hiding from the system. My sense is that Marxists are often terrified of failure and, rather than confront their fears, hide behind Marxism to avoid participating whatsoever (ironically, this was as true of Marx himself as it is of his modern followers).
[This likely exposes another reason why Marxism irks me: like Leland, I too am terrified of failure, and constantly tempted to avoid trying in order to avoid failing. My response to that fear has been different than the Marxist: I threw myself wholeheartedly into exploits that were only tangentially meaningful to me. Perhaps my response was more noble than the Marxists’, perhaps it wasn’t. Either way, I probably do not enjoy being reminded of this desire to hide in plain sight.]
A sample experience: in early adulthood I met a friend’s younger sister who was still in college (we ourselves being freshly minted graduates). As part of the conversation she lamented how she wanted to go protest in (I believe it was) Palestine, but that daddy wouldn’t pay for it. I caught myself mouth agape right before she could catch my shock; I struggled to believe this performative display could be anything other than parody or caricature, but it was real. To some degree, that vignette summarizes my experience with Marxists: that they really want to dismantle (or at least play at dismantling) the system, so long as daddy or some other patron will finance their efforts and lifestyle.
Somewhat related to the first point: my impression is that Marxists obsess over making all interaction about power precisely because their adopted worldview is obsessed with amassing power. As far as I can tell, the Marxist worldview doesn’t appear to make much space for concepts like love, inspiration, honor, or integrity. Or, perhaps to the extent these concepts are real, they are primarily viewed as tools exploited by the powerful for the purposes of manipulating the powerless. I’ve always thought Marxism flattened humanity in this way; on my spiritual journey, I find myself believing Marxism rejects the most real aspects of the human journey.
Zooming back out, Marxism defines itself in opposition capitalism. As I said in my prior letter, “any ideology that defines itself in opposition to something propagates suffering”; today I want to explore this assertion. First off, I want to be clear that Marxism is by no means unique in terms of defining itself in opposition to something else. Indeed, I’m borrowing this idea from someone who complained that, in their experience, religious groups too often define their identities in opposition to something or someone else. I think there is truth in this observation, and it only reinforces my argument that often Marxism fills a religious hole for its adherents.
To me, the story of identifying ourselves in opposition to each other (or something else) goes back to the story of Adam and Eve. I’ve suggested before that the story of Adam and Eve is the story of the frontal cortex growing such that humanity decided we could play the role of god, no longer needing to live in harmony with the universe. For the sake of simplicity I left out the part about the snake. In the traditional telling, Adam and Even came upon a serpent who tricked them into eating fruit which granted the ability to discern between good and evil. I think that interpretation is incomplete: I think eating the fruit tricked humanity into *believing* we could discern between good and evil. Taken together, I think this story of separation – of separating from harmony with the universe, and separating things into buckets labeled “good” and “evil” – gets at how deeply we have fallen into the trap of defining ourselves in opposition to each other, and how much effort we put into the practice.
Of course, I’ve arguably spent the better part of two letters, by decrying the faults with Marxism and Marxists, defining myself in opposition to Marxism. That may be true, and I’ll let you be the judge. To the extent that it is true, that’s likely the point of my writing: to make that discovery for myself. What was already clear to me was just how tempting it is to define oneself in opposition to something else, and how vigilant I must be to resist that temptation; this exploration merely reinforces that realization.
One thing I can say with some confidence: I don’t define myself in opposition to the Marxist. On of my closest friends is a self-avowed Marxist, and several folks I care about are deeply influenced by Marxist ideology. I can disagree with elements of Marxist philosophy while appreciating some of the underlying impulses: I think, deep down, the typical Marxist genuinely wants to improve the problems they see in the world. Regardless, I can love the individual even if I find elements of their Marxist influences off-putting. I do think this distinction is significant: the important part is in not defining ourselves in opposition to one another, whereas disagreements over opinions and worldviews can be healthy and instructive. Lots of folks struggle to make this distinction, and assume that those whose beliefs differ are fundamentally flawed or even unworthy. This is not the subject I’m most passionate about today, so I won’t go into too much detail; I will only say this: there’s a critical distinction in separating the act or belief from the person. As far as I can tell, the only way to set healthy boundaries includes this fundamental understanding: that I can separate “what you did is not okay” from “you are not okay”.
I can both love a smoker and know that the act of smoking is unhealthy. Similarly I can both love a Marxist and believe their Marxism is fundamentally misguided. As a result, I can grant the Marxist space to believe what they will while still maintaining our relationship, so long as the Marxist grants me the same grace.
Of course, this gets to part of the rub: much like fundamentalist religions everywhere, Marxism doesn’t seem content letting others disagree peacefully. Marxism in practice seems to need universal submission, of either the willing or unwilling variety. As far as I can tell (and I’ve explored this a great deal), God wants a relationship with us, but grants us ultimate authority to decide whether we have that relationship or not. In this manner I am coming to believe it a bit presumptive to assume we get to impose a higher burden on each other than God imposes on us. Thus, I think it important to recognize when a worldview doesn’t grant others the opportunity to disagree peacefully, and I think it’s fair to call out the shortcoming in the worldview. Moreover, any attempts to silence someone’s perspective, whether it be the Marxist or the fundamentalist or any other dominant group attempting to silence a minority, curtail precisely the type of healing opportunities the world needs to be supporting right now.
This gets at one idea I’ve been kicking around lately. While I don’t claim much clairvoyance, I do suspect we’re moving toward a world of more individual freedom and not less. I think this is partly why I chafe at Marxism specifically, and any time I see someone attempting to impose their worldview on others more broadly: I think those attempts run counter to the movement of the ethereal currents.
Perhaps this gets at a fundamental distinction I see between the Marxist and the girl in the walkway: the girl in the walkway isn’t hurting anyone but herself. To the extent the Marxist is imposing their worldview on others, this is no longer true. I think the learning here has to do with protecting oneself from the tyranny of imposed thought and behavior. In fact, for me personally, I’d extend that protection to include others who genuinely want said protection (a tricky distinction that requires discernment, and one I’m not prepared to explore today).
Notwithstanding my desire to protect myself from tyranny: as far as I can tell, people need almost complete freedom to believe things that are wrong, even if their rights to act on those beliefs need to be curtailed insofar as their actions impede the rights of others; the old adage “your right to swing your fist ends where my nose begins” is helpful and instructive. I believe people should have the right to be wrong for more than just legal or societal reasons: I think the only way people are likely to learn and correct their misguided beliefs is when they have freedom and space to articulate them fully and freely. When we give people loving space to say something incorrect, even something hateful, we allow that person to hear their own words, to hear how they sound when fully articulated, and to begin to examine those thoughts more fully. To some degree, I am describing my own attempt at writing about Marxism: I’m giving myself some grace and space to be unkind and only partly correct precisely so that, by getting the thoughts out of my head, I can examine them and explore what they mean. My preliminary finding, again, is just how challenging it is to find the balance between drawing reasonable boundaries on bad behavior and defining oneself in opposition to something or someone else. My secondary finding is that these thoughts were blocking creative ideas from emerging, so writing them down has helped me uncover some new ideas and (perhaps more importantly) some underlying creative energy. So does this mean all the observations and theses offered regarding Marxism and Marxists are meaningless? Not necessarily; there are likely some truths in my observations, but (as is almost always the case) these observations are imperfect and incomplete. What I can say is that, while I’m not prepared to retract anything I said about Marxism, these are opinions I hold loosely. Moreover, these are opinions I am more likely to examine now that I have expressed them; I won’t be shocked if my opinions evolve as a result of that examination.
Fortunately, I’ve had positive experiences granting others space to express negativity. My programming when others say something with which I disagree is to argue. When those claims reverberate against my trauma, I tend to argue from a place of fear. With practice, however, I’m learning to notice when things said are meant to provoke argument, and I’m realizing those provocative comments are looking for points of disagreement in order to solidify the prison walls of separation we’ve created. I’m learning to decline those implicit invitations, and instead let provocative claims linger while I direct loving energy at the provocateur; I’m noticing that the reverberations tend to serve as something of a wake up call when the invitation to conflict is declined. I sincerely doubt this specific action works universally, but I think the loving response – understanding words born of hurt, and responding to that truth instead of whatever claims were made from the place of hurt – does have universal implications.
I think I’m done getting things off my chest; now is time to capture the learnings available to me. What I am noticing are mostly retread learnings, but not entirely so. 1) I should let the girl in the walkway be; she is not hurting anyone. 2) When the girl in the walkway starts hurting others, it becomes time to set loving boundaries. 3) We live in a world where people are in a ton of pain, and are increasingly desperate to feel the pain subside. 4) I think I have some solutions to offer, but only to those who are willing to first discover that the true source of pain is not the perceived source and then let go of the true source. It’s hard work, but I’m realizing lots of people are willing to do the work.
To the extent I have a new learnings, they begin with 5) it’s important to give people space to be wrong. 6) It’s also important to protect ourselves, and all folks who genuinely want to heal, from tyrannical behaviors and worldviews that would impose prison-like thought patterns in place of genuine healing opportunities. 7) I am deeply interested in helping others willing to do the work of healing, and I’d like to find ways to tilt the world I experience such that I spend more time surrounded by those willing to do the work, and less time surrounded by those who would rather remain trapped. That’s interesting and useful to discover and write out.
Fortunately, I have a few ideas for next steps. Those include continued writing of course, but I have at least one or two new ideas in the works. I’ll save details for when those ideas are a little further along. I muse at the timing: of course I feel on the verge of a minor creative breakthrough right before your school year ends and we embark on a summer of travel together. If this summer is anything like last summer, I’m likely to get very busy and face tremendous temptation toward distraction very soon.
Maybe the lesson here is just that I’m not ready to put my creative pursuits completely on the back burner while we get busy. That will mean learning how to structure my time differently than I did last summer, and I believe I can do that. There will be some days and weeks where we go on family vacations, and it’s probably fine to have those vacations interrupt my creative pursuits. But I can also make space to pick up where I left off and create on the other weeks. Whether I leverage the time granted me by summer camps, or whether I demand a little time away from the two of you on the days where you guys are home but not in summer camp, I think I can find ways to keep myself engaged in some sort of a creative rhythm. At the very least, as of today I am committed to trying. It will be interesting if, when you read this, you remember anything from this summer that I did that struck you as different or unusual.
Okay, it is almost time for me to bring Everett home from his piano lesson, so time for me to wrap up. I love you both, and look forward to spending quite a bit of time with you this upcoming summer…even if I am realizing I need to set some boundaries and create some space for myself in the process. Wish me luck.
Love,
Dad
Letters to Leland 