There’s no getting around it. Ayn Rand has long served as the punching bag for anti-libertarian polemics. People who see the state as the fount of human cooperation tend to cast their opposition as on the side of “greed,” “hate,” and cold-hearted selfishness. If Ayn Rand isn’t the most frequently-used symbolic anchor for that smear, I don’t know what is. According to these folks, Ayn Rand authored the modern libertarian movement, and her defining characteristics always come out of a grab-bag of antonyms for camaraderie, compassion, or cooperation.
The political climate being what it is in 2016, many Americans are casting about for alternatives to what the major two political parties offer. The media seems eager to investigate any alternative whatsoever to Donald Trump. As a result, the Libertarian Party is getting more attention than it has in a long time. The Party’s standard-bearer this year is once again Gary Johnson, a successful two-term governor of New Mexico with a history of shrinking government humanely, and a bee in his bonnet about legalizing marijuana.
I know economics isn’t the first thing to spring to mind for most people when reading a science fiction classic, but bear with me anyway. Something stood out to me in the light of Austrian economics while reading Ringworld. Something that I consider a huge credit to Larry Niven for believable world-building. It has to do with the Pierson’s Puppeteers and how they handle their immortality. If you haven’t read the book, I’ll try to explain the Puppeteers without spoiling the story.
This is another Hugo and Nebula award winner, a story of interstellar war by Vietnam veteran Joe Haldeman. It’s no secret that The Forever War is a spiritual retelling of Haldeman’s experiences in Vietnam, although I have apparently been living under a rock and hadn’t known this when I picked the book up. Its connection to Vietnam is palpable for anyone even somewhat familiar with the history of that war, or even just the experiences of American veterans.
I recently finished reading Gateway by Frederik Pohl, and its sequels. I was immediately swept into the sequels, because Pohl uses a tactic Ben Bova would later articulate in Writing Science Fiction that Sells. Pohl set up a grand question that the story gradually answers. I’m a sucker for this formula. Every Asimov book I’ve read has done it, and Clarke was a master at it. In Gateway, human explorers had stumbled upon an asteroid filled with abandoned, ancient starships.