An essay by a member of our Board
Of Fences
by Lola Weinstein

For some reason I was thinking about the words “fence” and “fencing,” when suddenly I experienced a sort of Georgist gestalt. You know, that “seeing the big picture” thing. It’s possible that I saw only the bottom left corner, but it was definitely big.

See if this works for you. Consider and contemplate the word fence, and variations like fences, fencing, fencer, defense, etc.

Starting with definitions:

1. Fencing: (a) a martial art or form of combat which combines dangerous weapons like swords and sabers with deadly force; (b) a pretend version of definition (a), considered to be a sport, and which excludes the fight to the death finale.
2. Fencing: (a) a method of enclosing a parcel of land by means of erecting a wall, barrier or hedge; (b) a fence or system of fencing that serves to mark or delineate the perimeter of a deeded land property.
3. Fencing: the activity or occupation of buying and selling stolen property.
4. Fence: the name or job title of someone engaged in such activity or occupation, i.e., the buying and selling of stolen property for profit or gain.

Thus, in one word we have a description of the pre-Georgist paradigm. We find the history of the privatization of the privatization of the earth, the method employed, and what that method was/is, and should be called. There is fighting, killing, seizing, conquering, followed by planting the flag and claiming title in the name of God and/or the king.

When kings couldn’t afford wars of conquest, one method of helping to finance such ventures was to grant or charter large tracts of conquered land to the victorious generals as payment for services rendered the king. Similarly, borrowed capital was often repaid to “investors” through remission of resources or domain.

And after that raw time of violence and seizure? Subdivide, of course. Then official pieces of paper: titles, charters, bills of sale, deeds, etc. are distributed as “proof” of ownership. And wills for keeping it in the family.

With the growing acceptance of these documents as “proof of ownership,” the whole idea of land as private property gained legitimacy and gradually became an unchallenged assumption and eventually a given in the 1st world while it continues to “gain ground” in those backward 3rd world countries or even in those tiny areas of earth where some people are still unfamiliar with concepts such as nationality or citizenship.

And all of this accomplished by some sort of fence: It continues and is maintained by use of what, for some strange reason is called “defense.” Usually the prefix “de” means to undo, remove, or change the nature of the root word which follows. I guess current usage refers only to the de-fencing of their fences, not ours.

As my thoughts about the word “fence” continued, they began to meander into a mode a bit less linear.

Some songs about fences came to mind. Remember “Don’t Fence Me In”? It has become a classic American folk standard, maybe not among the great-est, but it hangs in there. It was written right about the time that the West was no longer wild, and the Western movie genre was reaching its apex in American pop culture.

I happened to encounter another one while channel surfing. It’s unlikely you’ve heard of it, because it was the theme song for a very short lived (one season) TV series called “Firefly.” This series was a rather bizarre old wild west/sci-fi hybrid in which “Firefly” was the name of the spaceship. Some lines from the theme song are: They burn the land and boil the sea,/ but they can’t take the sky from me.

Taking the sky (not just the air, but the orbital space, too), however, seems to be exactly what “Missile Defense” (previously known as “Star Wars”) is all about. Whoever has monopoly control of satellite space controls communications, spying and first strike capability, which means they pretty much control the whole big ball of wax, or dirt, or you know, the earth.

Many people seem to know and frequently quote a line from “The Mending Wall,” by the great American poet Robert Frost. People quote the line “good fences make good neighbors” who may not have read the poem, or perhaps have forgotten the context of that line. It (the line) is casually tossed out as a cliched truism. The poet’s observation of mindless adherence to tradition and unchallenged assumption was the whole message, the whole point of the poem. Read the poem if you don’t remember it all that well, or if you do, maybe read it again anyway just to enjoy the beauty of a great poem. It’s clear that the poet is pointing out that good fences don’t always improve the relationship between neighbors. Sometimes they are unnecessary work with no real utility, and make only for orderly isolation.

Returning to “Don’t Fence Me In,” it may have been inspired by that period in our history of the range wars between cattlemen and farmers. This struggle is an ancient one, archetypal, older even than the story of Jacob and Esau.

When the hunting and gathering people were making a transition to early agriculture it was probably a lifestyle change mainly invented by (with knowledge of plants) and for the convenience of females. Mobility doesn’t go well with late stage pregnancy, birthing and the care of infants. To the benefit of all, crops and livestock provided a more reliable food source.

The transition to agriculture bought with it a new concept of possession and identification with location fostered by the investing of labor, the digging in and developing roots. Furthermore, the concept of inheritance underwent dramatic changes as reflected in the biblical tale of Jacob and Esau.

The lyrics from “Firefly” and the show itself seem to represent a longing for escape to a past or a future where material opportunities of land, sea, air and space did or might once again become easily available.

The “good fences” that actually have no practical purpose, that simply serve to symbolically reinforce the territorial (supposedly biologically hard wired) imperative may thwart spiritual and social opportunities.

Of course, we will always need fences for things like keeping the dog in the yard, or preventing people from falling off the cliff or wandering onto the firing range. Fences serve as windbreaks and for sound dam-pening. The privacy provided by fences and hedges clearly has social/psychological value.

Nothing wrong with fences, especially when they are not essentially symbolic of monopoly and exclusion or methods of imposed social control (Iron Curtains, prisons). We may continue to need prison walls, but they are certainly overemployed currently.

If opportunities, both material and spiritual, are to expand and exist for all, they cannot be found in nostalgia for the good old days or in some vague hope for the future. They must be created in the present.

As pertaining to fences and defenses, equity of opportunity requires that we lay down the swords, tear down the inappropriate fences, and return the stolen property. In other words, we must reclaim our collective inheritance. This is our natural birthright, that birthright called Earth. Q