Picture this. You’re at a party. Maybe it’s hosted by your non-binary anarchist friend in their grimy Berlin Altbau or, alternatively by your zyn-popping Young Republican friend in their (let’s be honest, his) dorm room. Unwittingly, you’re cornered into a conversation next to the table of complimentary ketamine/natty lite by a gaggle of undergrads studying politics. As you try to slip away undetected to find literally anyone else to talk to, you’re dragged into a conversation on Liberalism. You’re not quite sure what it means, although you’ve heard of it. It’s not really come up all that much as you’re studying a real degree that will doubtlessly lead you to gainful employment and a stable happy life. However, throughout the course of this conversation you learn that Liberalism is an ideology that will or perhaps already has led to untold suffering and that its proponents, Liberals, are the most loathsome creatures to walk the earth, bringing death, destruction, and pain wherever they go. Furthermore, the most horrifying thing is that these creatures, according to your new friends, walk amongst us, stalking the streets, searching for any remnants of class solidarity or traditional community to decimate. In fact, they outnumber us; they surround us. Indeed, we live in a paradigm wrought through and through with liberal corruption. As they disperse, you’re left shaken and hollow. You stare down at your now sweaty, shaking palms and ask yourself: “Could I be a Liberal?”
Reading John Locke in 2025 is weird. As with any classic text like this, the Two Treaties are outdated and archaic. Some of the ideas are so tied to the specific debates and intellectual milieu of the time that they’re primarily interest today is for understanding intellectual history rather for what they say about our current predicament. However, the other source of strangeness, as eluded to in what I’ll generously call our “thought-experiment”, is that we live in a moment where many in political life, whether our edgy undergraduates or our elected officials, are consciously attempting to move beyond the primary ideological takeaway credited to the Treaties, that is “Liberalism”. It seems that across the political spectrum throughout the Global North, Liberalism is being reassessed. It is a dirty word in progressive circles, synonymous with hypocrisy, exploitation, and Eurocentrism, and amongst the Right, the Neoliberal fusionists are largely folding to the alt-right, Paleos, and Populists. In Europe, Orban self-consciously and without embarrassment identifies himself as “Illiberal”. The world’s superpower, pioneer of the modern Liberal nation-state is being subverted by undemocratic, Christian-nationalist ideologues, openly disdainful of the Liberalism on which their country was meant to be founded. In such a moment, whilst Locke is doubtlessly archaic, he also feels urgent.
I’m going to admit something that will lose me a lot of cache amongst my leftist friends: I like Liberalism. I probably wouldn’t call myself a Liberal, but I don’t have it in my heart to despise those who find much to love in the canon of Western Liberalism. Of course, it has been inconsistently and hypocritically applied. Its historical proponents have loudly voiced its tenants while at the same time enslaving, murdering, colonizing, and dispossessing. However, I can’t help but feel a lot of affinity and appreciation for the things that it has given us: freedom of speech, freedom of religion, popular government, and political power subservient to a body of law. When I see dispossessed minorities or my fellow queer folk make an impassioned argument for their own rights, they can’t help but couch it in the language of our time - the language of Liberalism. Indeed, I’ve yet to see a theory whose language and institutional structures are more conducive to those political claims of the downtrodden and the oppressed. So when I see people dismiss the “libs” or, more pressingly, when I see the Right actively work to establish an “illiberal” or “post-liberal” state, it scares me.
It was with these anxieties in mind that I picked up Locke. I hoped to return to the origins of this strain of thought to better understand it and why a significant minority of people are fed up with it. I hoped at the very least to, in the course of reading the Two treaties, to work through some of the ambivalence that had accrued in my mind surrounding that nebulous term. Therefore, in lieu of a coherent argument, I’ve split this review into the major themes that I think are important. Time to Locke In.
Monarchy vs Not-Monarchy
If you’ve not read the Treaties or only the later, far more relevant of the two, then let me get you to up to speed. Locke uses it to absolutely blast a Monarchist called Robert Filmer into a historical footnote. This is mostly done through both line-by-line rebuttals of Filmer’s Patriarcha along with a painstaking biblical exegesis that denies any avenue for justification of a divine right to rule descending from Adam. It’s pretty rough-going from a contemporary perch with a few interesting exceptions. Massively simplified, the overall arch of the argument is that even if some divine or fatherly authority was endowed on Adam in the Creation, monarchical power is not general but specific and we need a way to observe and validate authority here and now, to decide who can rightfully rule lest we submit ourselves to someone arbitrarily. The fact that this or that monarch currently holds power cannot be proof enough of their right to rule as then we would have to submit to whoever so happens to rule over us, “prince” or “pirate”. Divine Right fails as the question is “not whether there be power in the world, nor whence it came, but who should have it.” In this, it’s hard to disagree with Locke. It’s a lot like watching those Evolutionist verses Creationist debates that were all the rage on early YouTube. We, as an audience, aren’t here to witness a contest of equal ideas in a well informed debate that challenges our preconceptions. We’re here to watch an idiot be humiliated. As a modern audience, we were never going to side with the monarchist on this one. Obviously, this wasn’t the case at the time and it’s an interesting exercise to try to reach back to that era when Locke’s view was in the minority, and to try for a second to glimpse the revolutionary nature of what sounds to us today, plain statements of common sense. So in our assessment of Liberalism, as told by John Locke, I can confidently say that it’s better than Monarchy. Yay for Liberalism!
State of Nature?
In Locke’s version of the state of nature, we exist in state of absolute freedom, where power over oneself and, critically, one’s possessions is reciprocal. He also believes this is inherently a state of equality with enforcement of the law being held equally in the hands of all men. To what extent the law is natural if it has to be enforced by men at all, I leave to more philosophically minded folks.
Firstly, I think it’s pretty tired and uninteresting to engage pedantically with Locke’s argument by disputing the historicity of the state of nature. Yeah of course there wasn’t ever such a thing; we’re social animals and so long as there was people there was some form of social structure. But I think that misses the point that Locke is trying to make. If we are to strip away from the context of current day society, monarchy then, modern liberal democracy now, what does man do. Well primarily he makes decisions for himself and his immediate circle of family or tribe. That’s a pretty valid observation to me.
My primary problem with this largely peaceful version of the state of nature as opposed to Hobbes’s rendition, is how he justifies the emergence of the state from it. We need the state to cooperate for our mutual enforcement of our natural rights and protection of our property. Regardless that this is historically nonsense, I don’t understand why Locke thinks this is necessary. If men, being rational and understanding natural law, all obey it and mutually enforce it then what need is there for government.
I think the stronger version of this argument that Locke hints at but does not make outright or explicitly, is that some people are incapable of enforcing their natural rights or protecting themselves from the tyranny of others. I think to make this argument one has to concede to a slightly more hobessian view of the state of nature in that there are many who will use their strength to harm others and those who are physically weaker need assistance to protect their natural rights. So the physical inequality between people gives rise to a need for government to enforce the natural social equality between people.
Not exactly groundbreaking but it’s nice to dust off some of that undergrad political theory and flex the thought experiment muscles. Honestly, I think the bigger problem with all of this is that I think the idea of natural law is fake and ridiculous but I have to draw the boundaries of this review somewhere.
Property
So finally, here is where I get to brandish my lefty credentials! So put away the guillotine comrade and give me a wide berth. I’m about to do some “praxis”.
For Locke, Property is an extension of the right to life via subsistence; that while the natural fruits of the earth belong to all men, to make the earth produce those means we must first appropriate or acquire them. First of all, simple question: Why? Why is an exclusionary, rivalrous form of ownership necessary to make the earth productive? I find that notion very strange and Locke kind of hand waves it away by saying “well there’s plenty of land around so everyone will get some.”
For Locke, property emerges when we mix our labour with the natural fruits of the earth. Understood in a state of nature, this is pretty inoffensive as you picked the fruit, you get to eat it. However, as he developed it further, it emerges that he thinks that whoever can make the most productive use of land should have it outright. It is quite difficult to ignore the dispossession inherent in this argument. Marbled throughout Locke’s account is references to American Indians, and it becomes quite clear why this distinction between rationalised productive approaches to land and other approaches to living on the land is being made. This, whether an explicit retroactive justification, or simply a byproduct of his argument, is disgusting and pretty unforgivable.
But the argument isn’t just immoral and distasteful to modern standards, I think it’s wrong. The idea of “natural” property is ludicrous. I was willing to overlook the appeals to nature when talking about individuals and their freedom because to some extent the individual is a real and extant thing that exist prior to society. An individual would exist if he were the only person on the planet; our lone individual, however, could not own property. Property is a social relationship, and politically constituted (I think I’m the first person on earth to recognise this). So Locke is not just describing a natural mode of property being protected by the state, he is arguing for a particular enforcement of distribution of property by the force of law and state violence. Furthermore, it is a version of property rights that has justified untold dispossession, imperialism, enclosure, and further down the line all of the ills of industrial capitalism.
There is so so much more here I could talk about. There is points where it feels like Locke is far more concerned with the protection of property even than people, so he preempted a lot of contemporary libertarians and neoliberals in that way. To avoid making this section too long, I’ll issue a blanket statement that I more or less disagree with everything this man said about property.
The Individual and Her Will
Now this, I saved this for last because it’s the one where I don’t just agree with the liberals but feel just as hotly as they do about it. I know Libertarians or Classical Liberals can seem a little goofy at the current moment; however, when they talk of the individual and their negative freedom, their right to be left the hell alone, I can’t help but want to fire off a few approval shots into the ceiling. The only time, in reading the treaties where I felt myself emphatically nodding along was when he talked about the purpose of government being to ensure a “Liberty to follow my own Will in all things, where the Rule prescribes not; and not to be subject to the inconstant, uncertain, unknown, Arbitrary Will of another Man”. Again, kind of tired today but I can’t help but appreciate it. I think the approval stems from, beyond my own temperamental obstinacy towards any authority, especially arbitrary, is that it really recognises the fundamental nature of the individual will. There are very few things in the social sciences that we can privileged as laws in the way the physical scientists are able; however, I think the closest thing that the social sciences have to an atom is the individual. There is an unpredictability, a stubborn refusal, a frustrating but beautiful diversity that rests in the black box of each of our minds that resists being categorised or contained. Yes, we are deeply socially conditioned. Yes, our actions are constrained by institutions. Yes, we act on concepts and norms that are socially constructed. Yet, in a moment of decision, nobody, not the greatest historian, nor psychologist, nor the best behavioural data scientist that Silicon Valley can summon, can tell you with certainty what any one of us will do but our own Will. We see out of our own eyes. We make our choices.
So by way of conclusion, there are a lot of problems with Locke’s account of liberalism. Primarily abhorrent to me is the account of property and the centrality which private property rights take in it. With that being said, I really do come alive when he is railing against tyranny and the extolling the virtues of personal liberty. That is the value I find in a purely applied doctrine of Classical Liberalism: the willingness to give a full throated endorsement of the individual’’s Will, however wrong, however unpopular, however offensive, however queer, however ugly. I do with my life what I wish. As you with yours. I’d love to have a beer with you one day and you can tell me all about it.