Civil Disobedience

Foreword

The famous essay "Civil Disobedience" wasn't always called that, and it didn't start as an essay.

Origins as a Speech
It began as a speech, or lecture. Henry David Thoreau delivered this lecture in Concord, Massachusetts. The date was January 26, 1848. He gave the speech at a public forum called the Concord Lyceum.

First Published Version
Later, the lecture was turned into a written essay. It was published in May 1849. The publisher was Elizabeth Peabody, who included it in her magazine, Aesthetic Papers. However, this magazine didn't sell well. Only one issue was ever produced. In this first published version, the essay had a different title: "Resistance to Civil Government."

The Title We Know Today
The title "Civil Disobedience" came much later. It was used in a book published in 1866, after Thoreau's death. This book was a collection of his writings. Its full title was A Yankee in Canada, with Anti-Slavery and Reform Papers. This collection used the now-familiar title for the essay.

An Interesting Question
Interestingly, we don't actually know if Thoreau himself ever used the exact phrase "civil disobedience" to refer to his essay or ideas.

1

The Best Government Governs Least

I completely agree with the saying: “That government is best which governs least.” I would like to see this idea put into action more quickly and thoroughly.

If we take this idea to its logical end, it means this: “That government is best which governs not at all.” I also believe this. When people are ready for it, that’s the kind of government they will have.

Government is Just a Tool

At best, government is just a tool to get things done. But most governments are often inefficient or harmful. All governments are like this sometimes.

Think about the arguments against having a permanent army. There are many good reasons to oppose it, and these reasons should win out. Well, the same arguments can eventually be used against having a permanent government. A permanent army is just one part, one arm, of the permanent government.

The government itself is just the method people have chosen to carry out their wishes. But this method can easily be misused or twisted before the people can even use it. Look at the current Mexican War. It was started by a small group of people using the government as their tool. The majority of people would not have agreed to it at the beginning.

The American Government: A Weak Tradition

What is this American government? It’s just a tradition, and a fairly new one. It tries to pass itself down unchanged to future generations, but it loses some of its integrity constantly.

It doesn't have the energy and power of a single living person. A single determined person can force the government to do what they want. For the people themselves, the government is like a toy gun made of wood – it looks like it has power, but it doesn't really.

But people still feel they need it. They seem to need some kind of complicated system, with all its noise, to feel like they have a government. Governments show how easily people can be tricked, even trick themselves, for what they think is their own good. We have to admit, it's an impressive trick.

People Achieve Things, Not Government

Yet, this government has never actually helped any important project succeed on its own. The only way it helps is by getting out of the way quickly.

It doesn't keep the country free.

It doesn't settle the West.

It doesn't educate the people.

Everything that has been accomplished in America was done by the character and spirit of the American people. They might have achieved even more if the government hadn't sometimes interfered.

Government is simply a tool people use hoping it will help them leave each other alone. And, as mentioned, the best government is the one that leaves people alone the most.

Think about trade and business. If they weren't flexible (like "India rubber"), they could never get past the obstacles lawmakers constantly create. If we judged these lawmakers only by the results of their actions, not their intentions, they should be treated like criminals who block railroad tracks.

Wanted: A Better Government Now

However, let me speak practically, as a citizen. I am not like those who call themselves anarchists or "no-government men." I am not asking for no government right away. What I am asking for, right now, is a better government.

Let every person declare what kind of government would earn their respect. That would be the first step towards getting such a government.

The Problem with Majority Rule

Think about why majorities get to rule, and keep ruling for a long time, once power is in the people's hands. It's not because the majority is most likely to be right. It's not because ruling seems fairest to the minority group. It's simply because the majority is physically stronger.

But a government where the majority rules in every situation cannot be based on justice, at least not justice as people understand it.

Conscience Over Law

Can't we have a government where conscience, not the majority, decides what is truly right and wrong? Can't majorities decide only practical questions where simple usefulness applies?

Must a citizen ever give up their conscience to the lawmakers, even for a moment? If so, why does everyone have a conscience?

I believe we should be individuals of conscience first, and citizens second. It’s more important to develop respect for what is right than respect for the law.

My only real obligation is to do what I believe is right, at any time. People correctly say that a company or organization doesn't have a conscience. But an organization made up of people with conscience is an organization with a conscience.

Laws have never made people even slightly more just or fair. In fact, because people respect the law, even good people are often turned into agents of injustice every day.

Serving the State: Machines, Minds, or Consciences?

A common result of too much respect for the law is this: You see soldiers marching perfectly in order – colonels, captains, corporals, privates, even the young boys carrying gunpowder. They march over hills and valleys to war. They march against their own wills, against their common sense, and against their consciences. This makes it a truly difficult march, one that makes the heart beat faster.

These soldiers have no doubt that the war they are involved in is a terrible, wrong business. They are naturally peaceful people. So, what are they in that moment? Are they men? Or are they just small, mobile forts and weapons storage, serving some power-hungry person without principles?

Visit a Navy Yard. Look at a marine. He is the kind of man the American government can create – almost a shadow, a faint memory of a human being. He's like a man laid out alive but standing, already buried under his weapons with military honors, even though perhaps no funeral sounds were made, as the poem says:

“Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,
As his corse to the rampart we hurried;
Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot
O’er the grave where our hero we buried.”

Most people serve the government like this: mainly as machines, using their bodies. They become the army, the local militia, jail guards, police officers, and members of posses. In most cases, they don't use their own judgment or moral sense at all. They lower themselves to the level of wood, earth, and stones. You could probably make wooden figures that would serve the same purpose just as well.

Such people deserve no more respect than scarecrows or clumps of dirt. They have about the same value as horses or dogs. Yet, these are the people often considered "good citizens."

Others serve the state mostly with their minds. This group includes most legislators, politicians, lawyers, ministers, and government officials. Since they rarely think about moral distinctions (what's truly right or wrong), they are just as likely to serve evil as they are to serve good, even without meaning to.

A very small number of people serve the state using their consciences too. These are the heroes, true patriots, martyrs, and great reformers. Because they follow their conscience, they often end up resisting the government. And the government usually treats them like enemies.

A wise person will only be useful as a person – using their conscience and judgment. They will not let themselves be turned into "clay" just to fill a gap or serve a basic function, like stopping a draft. They wouldn't submit to being a mere tool for any government, as Shakespeare wrote:

“I am too high-born to be propertied,
To be a secondary at control,
Or useful serving-man and instrument
To any sovereign state throughout the world.”

Someone who gives their entire self to helping others often seems useless and selfish to them. But someone who gives only part of themselves is called a helper and a philanthropist.

How to Behave Toward This Government?

How should a person act toward the American government today? My answer is this: you cannot be associated with it without feeling ashamed. I cannot, even for a second, accept a political system as my government when it is also the government that supports slavery.

The Right to Resist Unjust Governments

All people recognize the right of revolution. This means the right to refuse loyalty to the government and to resist it when it becomes too tyrannical or incompetent to bear.

But almost everyone says that things are not that bad now. They think things were that bad during the American Revolution in 1775.

If someone told me this government was bad just because it taxed some imported goods, I probably wouldn't make a big fuss. I can live without those goods. All systems have problems, like friction in a machine. Maybe this small problem does enough good to balance out the bad. In any case, making a big deal about small issues causes more trouble than it's worth.

But when the problems (the friction) become the main purpose of the system (the machine), and when oppression and robbery become organized policy, then I say: let's get rid of that system.

Time to Rebel

In other words:

When one-sixth of the people in a nation that claims to be a refuge of liberty are slaves...

And when a whole country (Mexico) is unfairly invaded, conquered by a foreign army, and put under military rule...

...then I think it's definitely time for honest people to rebel and start a revolution.

What makes this duty even more urgent is that the country being invaded is not ours. Our country has the invading army.

Justice Before Convenience (Critique of Paley)

William Paley was an influential writer on moral issues. In his writing about obeying government, he reduces all duty to "expediency" – basically, what is most convenient for society as a whole. Paley says that as long as resisting or changing the government would cause "public inconveniency," it is God's will to obey it.

Based on this idea, Paley says that deciding whether to resist in any specific case comes down to weighing the danger and harm of the situation against the cost and likelihood of fixing it. He says every person must judge this for themselves.

But Paley seems to have never considered situations where expediency doesn't apply. There are times when a whole people, just like an individual, must do what is just, no matter the cost.

If I have unfairly taken a wooden plank from a drowning man, I must give it back to him, even if it means I drown myself. According to Paley, this would be "inconvenient." But the saying goes, "He that would save his life [by acting unjustly] shall lose it [morally]."

This American nation must stop holding slaves and stop making war on Mexico. It must do this even if it costs them their existence as a nation.

Local Apathy Enables Injustice

In practice, nations do follow Paley's idea of expediency. But does anyone think that Massachusetts (my state) is doing what is truly right in this current crisis? The state acts shamefully, like someone rich and fancy on the outside but dirty underneath:

“A drab of state, a cloth-o’-silver slut,
To have her train borne up, and her soul trail in the dirt.”

Practically speaking, the real opponents to reform in Massachusetts are not thousands of politicians far away in the South. The real opponents are the thousands of merchants and farmers right here at home. These locals care more about business and farming than they care about humanity. They are not willing to do justice for the slave and for Mexico if it costs them anything.

My fight is not with enemies far away. My fight is with those nearby who cooperate with those distant enemies and follow their orders. Without the cooperation of people here, the distant enemies would be powerless.

We often say that the masses of people are unprepared for change. But improvement is slow because the few people who are supposed to be wiser or better are not actually much different from the many. It's not as important for everyone to be good as it is for some absolute goodness to exist somewhere. That spark of goodness can influence everyone else, like yeast making dough rise.

Passive Opposition is Not Enough

There are thousands of people who say they oppose slavery and the war. But in reality, they do nothing to stop them. They call themselves children of Washington and Franklin, but they just sit with their hands in their pockets. They say they don't know what to do, so they do nothing. They might even care more about issues like free trade than about freedom for slaves. They quietly read the business news and the latest war reports from Mexico after dinner, perhaps falling asleep over both.

What is the real value of an honest person and patriot today? These people hesitate. They express regret. Sometimes they sign petitions. But they do nothing serious or effective. They wait, hoping someone else will fix the problem so they won't have to feel bad about it anymore.

At most, they offer cheap support:

A vote that costs them little.

Weak encouragement.

A half-hearted blessing for the cause of right as it passes by.

For every one truly virtuous person who acts, there are nine hundred and ninety-nine who merely support virtue in name only. It's easier to deal with the person who actually possesses something than with someone who is just temporarily guarding it.

Is Voting Enough?

All voting is a kind of game, like checkers or backgammon. It has a slight moral aspect, a playing with right and wrong, but it's still a game. Betting often goes along with it. The voter's actual character or principles are not really at stake.

I might cast my vote for what I think is right. But I don't feel personally responsible for making sure that right thing actually wins. I'm willing to leave it up to the majority. Therefore, the duty involved in voting never goes beyond simple expediency or convenience.

Even voting for what is right doesn't actively do anything for it. It only weakly expresses your wish that the right thing would succeed. A wise person will not leave justice to the mercy of chance or hope it wins simply through the power of a majority.

There is very little true virtue in the actions of large groups of people (masses). When a majority finally votes to abolish slavery, it will likely be because they have become indifferent to slavery, or because there isn't much slavery left to abolish anyway. At that point, the voters themselves will be the only remaining slaves – slaves to indifference or irrelevance. Only the vote of someone who actively claims their own freedom can truly help end slavery.

Politicians, Conventions, and Conformity

I hear about political conventions, like the one planned in Baltimore, where candidates for President are chosen. These conventions are mostly made up of newspaper editors and professional politicians. But I think: what does their decision matter to any independent, intelligent, and respectable person? Won't we still benefit from the wisdom and honesty of such independent people, regardless of the convention's outcome? Can't we count on some independent votes? Aren't there many individuals in the country who don't attend these conventions?

But no. I find that the so-called "respectable man" quickly abandons his independent position. He loses hope for his country, when really his country has more reason to lose hope in him. He immediately supports one of the candidates chosen by the convention as the "only available one." This proves that he himself is available to be used by any political manipulator (demagogue). His vote is worth no more than the vote of an unprincipled immigrant or a local person who has been paid for their vote.

Oh, for a person who is truly a person! Someone who, as my neighbor says, has integrity – "a bone in his back which you cannot pass your hand through!" Our population statistics are wrong; they count too many people. How many real individuals are there per thousand square miles in this country? Hardly one. Doesn't America offer any reason for strong individuals to settle here?

The American has shrunk into an "Odd Fellow" – someone known only for needing to belong to groups. He clearly lacks independent thought and confident self-reliance. His first concern in life is making sure the poorhouses are in good shape. Before he's even old enough to be considered an adult, he's raising money for future widows and orphans. In short, he dares to live only with the help of the Mutual Insurance company, which has promised to give him a decent burial.

Your Duty: Don't Participate in Wrong

It is not necessarily every person's duty to dedicate themselves to ending every single wrong, even huge ones. People rightly have other interests and concerns in life.

But it is everyone's duty to at least "wash his hands" of injustice. This means refusing to support it, even passively. If you choose to focus on other things, you must first make sure you are not doing so while benefiting from someone else's suffering – like sitting on another person's shoulders. You must get off them first, so they can pursue their own lives too.

Look at the blatant inconsistencies people tolerate. I've heard some of my neighbors say: "I'd like to see them try to order me to put down a slave rebellion or march to Mexico! See if I would go!" Yet these same men have provided a substitute for themselves:

Directly, through their loyalty to the government.

Indirectly, at least, through their tax money.

A soldier who refuses to fight in an unjust war is praised. But he is praised by the very people who refuse to stop supporting the unjust government that wages the war! He is applauded by the same people whose authority he is ignoring. It's as if the government felt slightly sorry for its sins – sorry enough to hire someone to punish it while it kept sinning, but not sorry enough to stop sinning even for a moment.

So, in the name of "Order" and "Civil Government," we are all ultimately made to honor and support our own lack of integrity, our own meanness. After the first shame of doing wrong comes indifference. Then, the wrong action changes from being immoral to being unmoral – something outside of morality altogether. It starts to seem like a necessary part of the life we have created for ourselves.

2

Why People Support Bad Systems

It takes a strange kind of virtue – maybe a pretended virtue – to keep supporting widespread errors and injustices. Often, simple patriotism gets criticized, and it's usually the most noble people who face this blame.

Consider those who disapprove of the government's actions but still give it their loyalty and support. These people are actually the government's most dedicated supporters in a way. They also frequently become the biggest roadblocks to needed reforms.

Some people are asking the State government (like Massachusetts) to leave the Union (the United States). They want the State to ignore the President's demands. But why don't these people dissolve their own connection with the State first? Why don't they refuse to pay their share of taxes into the State's treasury? Aren't they in the same position relative to the State as the State is to the Union? And aren't the same fears stopping them from resisting the State also stopping the State from resisting the Union?

Action, Not Just Opinions

How can anyone be satisfied just holding an opinion and enjoying it? Is there really any enjoyment if your opinion is that you are being wronged?

Think about it: if your neighbor cheats you out of even a single dollar, you don't just sit back feeling satisfied knowing you were cheated. You don't just complain about it. You don't just ask nicely for your money back. No – you take real action immediately to get the full amount back. And you make sure you are never cheated that way again.

Acting on Principle is Revolutionary

Acting based on principle – understanding what is right and then doing what is right – changes things. It changes relationships. It is fundamentally revolutionary. It doesn't fit neatly with the way things were before.

It divides states and churches.

It divides families.

It even divides a person within themselves, separating their lower impulses from their higher, divine nature.

Responding to Unjust Laws

Unjust laws exist. So, what should we do?

Should we be content to obey them?

Should we try to change them, but obey them until we succeed?

Or should we disobey them immediately?

Under a government like ours, most people think they should wait. They believe they need to convince the majority to change the laws first. They worry that if they resist, the solution (resistance) would be worse than the original problem (the unjust law).

But Thoreau argues it's the government's own fault if the solution seems worse. The government makes it worse by reacting poorly to resistance.

Why doesn't the government anticipate problems and plan for reforms?

Why doesn't it value the wise people in the minority?

Why does it complain and resist change before it's even harmed?

Why doesn't it encourage citizens to point out its flaws and suggest improvements?

Why does it always seem to persecute the truth-tellers and reformers throughout history – like crucifying Christ, condemning Copernicus and Luther, or calling Washington and Franklin rebels?

Unfair Punishments for Disobedience

You would think that governments would expect people to deliberately and practically deny their authority sometimes. If they expected it, why haven't they set a clear, appropriate, and proportional punishment for this specific offense?

Consider this: If a poor person refuses just once to pay a small amount (like nine shillings) to the government, they can be thrown in prison indefinitely. The length of stay isn't set by law but by the decision of the officials who put them there. But if that same person stole a much larger amount (like ninety times nine shillings) from the government, they would likely be let go relatively quickly.

When You MUST Break the Law

How should you deal with injustice that is part of the government system?

Minor friction: If the injustice is like a small, unavoidable friction in the machine of government, let it go. Maybe it will wear itself smooth, or the machine itself will eventually break down.

Specific mechanism: If the injustice has its own specific part in the machine (like a dedicated spring or lever), then maybe you can consider if trying to fix it would cause more harm than the injustice itself.

Forcing you to harm others: But, if the injustice is designed in such a way that it requires you to be the agent of harm against another person, then Thoreau says: Break the law. Let your life be a "counter-friction" – an opposing force – to stop that machine.

Your main duty is to make sure you do not participate in the wrong that you condemn.

Official Channels Are Too Slow

What about using the official methods the government provides for fixing problems? Thoreau doesn't trust them. They take too much time, and a person's whole life can pass by waiting. He has other things to do.

He came into the world primarily to live in it, whether it's good or bad, not chiefly to make it a perfect place. A person cannot do everything, but they must do something. And just because you can't do everything doesn't mean you should do something wrong.

It's not his job to keep petitioning the Governor or the Legislature, any more than it's their job to petition him. And if they ignore his petition, what then? In the case of slavery and the war, the State hasn't provided a real way to fix the problem – its very Constitution allows the evil.

This attitude might seem harsh, stubborn, or unwilling to compromise. But Thoreau sees it as treating the spirit of justice with the greatest possible kindness and respect. Real, positive change is often disruptive and painful, like the dramatic events of birth and death.

Abolitionists: Withdraw Support Now

Thoreau doesn't hesitate to say that those who call themselves Abolitionists (people wanting to end slavery) should immediately and completely withdraw their support from the government of Massachusetts. This includes both personal support and financial support (taxes).

They shouldn't wait until they form a majority. They shouldn't wait until the government allows the right thing to happen through them. He thinks it's enough if they have God (or moral rightness) on their side. They don't need to wait for anyone else. Besides, any person who is more morally right than their neighbors already constitutes a "majority of one."

Refusing Taxes: A Direct Stand

Thoreau meets the American government (or its local representative, the State government) directly, face-to-face, only once a year. This happens in the form of the tax collector. For someone in his situation, this is the only necessary interaction.

When the tax collector comes, the government clearly says: "Recognize my authority." Thoreau argues that the simplest, most effective, and currently most necessary way to respond – to show your dissatisfaction and lack of love for the government – is to refuse its demand right then and there. Deny its authority by not paying the tax.

His neighbor, the tax collector, is the person he must deal with. After all, his quarrel is with people, not with documents (like laws written on parchment). The tax collector has chosen to be an agent of the government. How can the tax collector truly understand his role as an officer, or as a person, until he is forced to decide? Will he treat Thoreau (his neighbor, whom he respects) as a neighbor and good person, or as a lunatic and troublemaker? Can he overcome this conflict without resorting to harsh thoughts or actions?

The Power of Principled Action

Thoreau knows this well: If one thousand, or one hundred, or even ten honest men he could name – indeed, if just one HONEST man in Massachusetts who opposes slavery were to actually withdraw from supporting the government (by refusing taxes) and get locked up in jail for it – it would mean the end of slavery in America.

Why? Because it doesn't matter how small the beginning seems. What is done right once is done forever. But people prefer to just talk about reform; they say talking is their mission. Reform movements have many newspapers supporting them, but maybe not even one person truly acting.

Imagine if his respected neighbor, the State's official representative working on human rights issues, were to end up imprisoned in Massachusetts (instead of just facing threats from Southern states like Carolina). If Massachusetts – a state so eager to blame slavery on others – actually jailed its own anti-slavery figures, the state legislature couldn't ignore the issue anymore.

Prison: The Right Place for Just People

Under a government that imprisons anyone unjustly, the only true place for a just person is also a prison.

Today, the only place Massachusetts provides for its freest and most principled citizens (those who haven't given up hope) is its prisons. The state locks them away, just as they have already separated themselves from the state through their principles.

Prison is where people seeking justice should find these principled individuals:

The escaped slave

The Mexican prisoner of war released on parole

The Native American pleading for his people's rights

Prison becomes a separate ground – more free and honorable – where the state puts those who are against it, not with it. In a slave state, it's the only place a free person can live with honor.

Some might think that people in prison lose their influence, that their voices can no longer reach the government. They might think they cease to be an enemy within the state's walls. But these people don't understand how much stronger truth is than error. They don't realize how much more powerfully and effectively someone can fight injustice after experiencing even a little of it themselves.

Your Whole Life as Your Vote

Cast your whole vote. Don't just cast a slip of paper; cast your whole influence.

A minority group is powerless as long as it conforms to the majority. It isn't even truly a minority then.

But when a minority resists with its full weight, clogging the system, it becomes irresistible.

If the government faces a choice: either keep all just people in prison, or give up war and slavery – it won't hesitate to choose the latter.

If a thousand people refused to pay their tax bills this year, that would not be a violent act. Paying the taxes, which enables the state to commit violence and shed innocent blood, that is the violent act. Refusing taxes is the definition of a peaceable revolution, if such a thing is possible.

If the tax collector (or any official) asks, "But what should I do?" (as one asked Thoreau), his answer is: "If you really want to do something, resign your office."

When the citizens refuse loyalty and the officials resign their posts, then the revolution is complete.

But what if blood is shed? Isn't there a kind of bloodshed when a person's conscience is wounded? Through that wound, a person's true humanity and integrity flow out. They bleed to a kind of spiritual death. Thoreau says he sees this blood flowing now.

Wealth Corrupts, Principle Endures

Thoreau focuses on imprisonment rather than seizing property as the consequence of resistance. Why? Because those who stand up for the purest form of right – and are therefore most dangerous to a corrupt government – usually haven't spent much time accumulating wealth.

The government provides little service to such people. Even a small tax seems unfairly large to them, especially if they have to earn it through hard manual labor. If someone lived completely without using money, the government would hesitate to demand taxes from them.

But the rich person is always tied to the system that makes them rich. Generally speaking, the more money a person has, the less virtue. Money gets things for a person without requiring moral effort. It answers many questions that a person might otherwise have to struggle with morally. The only new question money creates is the difficult but unnecessary one of how to spend it. Money takes away a person's moral grounding.

As the "means" (money and possessions) increase, the real opportunities for meaningful living often decrease. The best thing a rich person can do for their personal growth is to try to pursue the dreams and ideals they had when they were poor.

Jesus handled the situation with the tax money cleverly. "Show me the coin," he said. When they showed him a Roman coin with Caesar's image, he implied: if you use the system (Caesar's money) that the government provides and value, then pay the government back when it asks. "Render therefore to Cæsar that which is Cæsar’s, and to God those things which are God’s." This left them no clearer than before about which things belonged where, because they didn't really want to know the answer.

Fear vs. Honest Living

When Thoreau talks to his freest neighbors, he finds that despite their talk about the importance of the issues (like slavery) and their concern for public peace, the bottom line is this: they cannot afford to lose the protection of the current government. They fear what disobedience might mean for their property and families.

For his own part, Thoreau doesn't want to rely on the government's protection. But he knows that if he denies the government's authority by refusing taxes, it will eventually take all his property and endlessly harass him and his family. This is hard. It makes it almost impossible for a person to live honestly and comfortably at the same time.

It's not worth accumulating property if it will just be taken away. You have to rent or squat somewhere, grow only a small amount of food, and eat it quickly. You must live simply, rely on yourself, always be ready to leave, and not get involved in too many affairs.

You can even get rich in an oppressive country like Turkey, if you are willing to be a completely obedient citizen. Confucius said something relevant:

"If a state is governed by reason, poverty and misery are shameful."

"If a state is not governed by reason, riches and honors are shameful."

So, Thoreau concludes: No. Until he needs Massachusetts to protect him somewhere far away (like a Southern port where his freedom is threatened), or until his only goal is to build up wealth peacefully at home, he can afford to refuse loyalty to Massachusetts. He can deny its right to his property and his life.

In every sense, it costs him less to face the penalty for disobedience than it would to obey. If he obeyed, he would feel he was worth less as a person.

My Story: The Church Tax

Some years ago, the State demanded money from Thoreau for the church. It did this on behalf of the Church itself. He was ordered to pay a sum to support a minister whose sermons his father attended, but he never did.

"Pay," the State said, "or be locked up in jail."

He refused to pay. But unfortunately, someone else decided to pay it for him. Thoreau didn't see why a schoolteacher should be taxed to support a priest, but the priest shouldn't be taxed to support the schoolteacher. He wasn't employed by the state; he supported himself through voluntary subscriptions (donations). He also didn't see why the local lecture hall (the Lyceum) shouldn't be able to send out tax bills backed by the State, just like the Church could.

However, the town officials asked him to clarify his position. So he agreed to write a statement like this: "Know all men by these presents, that I, Henry Thoreau, do not wish to be regarded as a member of any incorporated society which I have not joined." He gave this statement to the town clerk, who still has it.

After learning he didn't want to be considered a member of that church, the State never demanded that tax from him again. (Although, it insisted it had the right to assume he was a member initially). If Thoreau had known the names of all the societies he never joined, he would have formally resigned from all of them in detail right then. But he didn't know where to find a complete list.

My Story: Jail for the Poll Tax

Thoreau hasn't paid the poll tax (a tax levied on every adult) for six years. Because of this, he was put in jail once, for one night.

As he stood there looking at the thick stone walls, the heavy wood and iron door, and the iron bars that let in only a little light, he was struck by how foolish the whole system was. It treated him as if he were just flesh and bones that could be locked up.

He wondered why the government thought this was the best use for him. Hadn't it ever considered using his skills or services in some other way?

He realized that while there was a stone wall between him and his townsmen, there was an even harder wall for them to climb or break through before they could become as free as he was (in his mind and principles). He didn't feel confined for a moment. The walls seemed like a huge waste of stone and mortar. He felt as if he was the only person in town who had truly paid his tax – by standing up for principle.

His jailers clearly didn't know how to treat him. They acted like poorly mannered people. Every threat and every compliment they gave him felt wrong, because they assumed his main goal was simply to be on the other side of the physical stone wall. He couldn't help but smile at how carefully they locked the door on his thoughts (meditations). His thoughts followed them right out of the jail without any problem. His thoughts were the only truly dangerous things about him.

Since they couldn't reach his mind or conscience, they decided to punish his body. This was like young boys who, unable to get at someone they dislike, will instead hurt that person's dog. Thoreau saw that the State was "half-witted." It was timid, like a lonely woman protecting her valuable silver spoons. It couldn't tell its friends from its enemies. He lost all the respect he had left for it and felt sorry for it.

The State's Weakness: Force vs. Principle

The State never intentionally confronts a person's mind, intellect, or morals. It only confronts their body and physical senses. It isn't armed with greater intelligence or honesty; it's armed only with greater physical strength.

Thoreau declares: "I was not born to be forced. I will breathe after my own fashion." Let's see who is truly stronger – brute force or individual principle. What real power does a crowd or majority have? The only people who can truly force him are those who obey a higher moral law than he does. They force him by making him want to become like them. He doesn't see people being genuinely forced into ways of life by masses of other people. What kind of life would that be?

When he meets a government that basically says, "Your money or your life," why should he hurry to give it his money? The government might be in trouble and desperate, but he can't help that. It must help itself, just as he must help himself. It's not worth whining or complaining about it.

He is not responsible for making the machinery of society work successfully. He's not the engineer's son.

He observes nature: when an acorn and a chestnut fall next to each other, neither one stops growing to make way for the other. Both follow their own natural laws. They sprout, grow, and flourish as best they can, until perhaps one overshadows and destroys the other. If a plant cannot live according to its nature, it dies. And the same is true for a person.

3

A Night in Jail

My night in the town jail was actually new and interesting. When I arrived, some prisoners in shirtsleeves were standing in the doorway, chatting and enjoying the evening air. But then the jailer said, “Come on, boys, time to lock up.” They scattered, and I heard their footsteps going back into the empty-sounding rooms.

The jailer introduced me to my roommate, calling him “a first-rate fellow and a clever man.” Once the door was locked, my roommate showed me where to hang my hat and explained how things worked in the jail. The rooms were painted white once a month. Our room was the whitest, had the simplest furniture, and was probably the cleanest room in the whole town.

Naturally, he wanted to know where I came from and why I was there. After I told him my story (about refusing to pay the poll tax), I asked him how he ended up in jail. I assumed he was an honest man, and based on how the world works, I still believe he was.

“Well,” he said, “they accuse me of burning down a barn, but I never did it.” From what I could gather, he had probably gotten drunk, fallen asleep in a barn while smoking his pipe, and accidentally set the barn on fire. People said he was a smart man. He had already been in jail for about three months waiting for his trial, and he expected to wait that much longer. But he seemed quite settled in and content, mostly because he got free meals and felt he was treated well.

Jail Life and Lore

He used one window, and I used the other. I quickly realized that if you stayed there long, your main activity would be looking out the window. I soon read all the pamphlets left behind by previous prisoners. I examined spots where prisoners had tried to break out and where metal bars had been sawed off. I also heard the stories about the different people who had stayed in that room before. I discovered that even the jail had its own history and gossip that never spread beyond its walls.

This jail was probably the only building in town where people wrote poetry. Their verses were sometimes printed and passed around inside, but never actually published outside. My roommate showed me a long list of poems written by some young men who were caught trying to escape. They got their revenge by singing these defiant songs.

Leaving the Roommate

I asked my roommate as many questions as I could, afraid I might never see him again. Finally, he showed me which bed was mine and left me to blow out the lamp.

A New Perspective

Lying there for that one night felt like traveling to a distant land I never expected to see. It seemed like I had never truly heard the town clock strike before, or the evening sounds of the village. We slept with the windows open (they were behind the metal grating).

It was like seeing my hometown in a completely different era, maybe the Middle Ages. Our town of Concord felt like a river in Germany, and I imagined knights and castles. The voices I heard in the streets sounded like those of old European townspeople. I couldn't help but see and hear everything happening in the kitchen of the nearby inn – a totally new experience for me.

It gave me a closer view of my town. I felt like I was truly inside it. I had never really seen its institutions before. The jail is one of Concord's special institutions because it's a county seat (a town with county courts and jail). I started to understand what the people living there were really about.

Morning and Release

In the morning, breakfast was passed through a slot in the door. It came in small rectangular tin pans, holding about a pint of chocolate drink and brown bread, with an iron spoon. When they came back to collect the pans, I was inexperienced enough to try returning the bread I hadn't eaten. But my roommate quickly grabbed it, telling me I should save it for lunch or dinner.

Soon after, he was let out to work in a nearby field, cutting hay. He did this every day and wouldn't be back until noon. So he wished me a good day, saying he doubted he would see me again.

Changed View of Society

When I came out of prison – because someone stepped in and paid the tax for me – I didn't notice huge physical changes outside. It wasn't like those stories where someone goes in young and comes out old and gray.

And yet, in my eyes, a massive change had come over the scene. The town, the state, the country – they all looked different in a way that mere time couldn't explain.

I saw the State I lived in much more clearly.

I saw how much I could really trust the people around me as good neighbors and friends. Their friendship seemed reliable only when things were easy ("summer weather only").

I realized they didn't strongly intend to always do what was right.

I saw that their prejudices and superstitions made them fundamentally different from me, like a distinct race, similar to how different Chinese or Malays might seem.

I saw that when they claimed to make sacrifices for humanity, they never took any real risks, not even risking their property.

I realized they weren't truly noble; they treated thieves just as harshly as the thieves might have treated them. They hoped to save their souls through superficial actions: following outward rules, saying a few prayers, and occasionally walking a straight, narrow path that didn't actually lead anywhere useful.

This might sound like I'm judging my neighbors too harshly. I believe many of them aren't even aware that their village has an institution like the jail.

Return to Normal Life (and Nature)

There used to be a custom in our village. When a poor person who owed money got out of jail, people would greet him by looking through their crossed fingers (to mimic jail bars) and asking, "How do ye do?" My neighbors didn't greet me like that. Instead, they first looked at me, then looked at each other, as if I had just returned from a long journey.

I had been arrested on my way to the shoemaker's shop to pick up a mended shoe. When I was let out the next morning, I went straight to finish my errand. After putting on my mended shoe, I joined a group going to pick huckleberries. They were eager for me to lead them. Within half an hour – the horse was quickly hitched up – I was in the middle of a huckleberry field on one of our highest hills, two miles away. Out there, the State seemed completely irrelevant, nowhere to be seen.

My Prison Story

That's the whole story of what I call "My Prisons" (a reference to a famous book about being a political prisoner).

Why I Refuse Taxes

I have never refused to pay the highway tax, because I want to be a good neighbor just as much as I want to be a "bad subject" (disobedient citizen). As for supporting schools, I feel I'm doing my part now by educating my fellow citizens through my writing.

I don't refuse the tax bill because of any specific item listed on it. I simply want to refuse loyalty to the State. I want to withdraw from it and stand apart from it, effectively. I don't care about tracking where my tax dollar physically goes – whether it buys a person (a slave) or a gun. The dollar itself is innocent. What concerns me is tracking the effects of my loyalty and support.

In fact, I am quietly declaring war on the State, in my own way. However, I will still make use of the State and get whatever benefits I can from it, as people usually do in such situations.

On Paying Taxes for Others

What about people who pay the tax that is demanded of me?

If they pay out of sympathy for the State, they are just doing what they already do for themselves – supporting the system. In fact, they might be encouraging injustice even more than the State requires.

If they pay out of a misguided concern for me – trying to save my property or keep me out of jail – they haven't thought carefully. They are letting their private feelings interfere with the public good (which requires upholding justice, even if it's uncomfortable).

My Position and Motivations

So, this is my current position. But in a situation like this, you have to be careful. You don't want your actions to be driven by stubbornness or by caring too much about what other people think. You need to make sure you are doing only what is right for you and right for this moment.

Internal Debate: Why Resist?

Sometimes I think: "These people around me mean well; they're just ignorant. They would do better if they knew how. Why should I cause my neighbors the pain of having to treat me harshly, which they don't want to do?"

But then I think again: "That's no reason for me to do what they do (like support injustice passively). And it's no reason to let others (like slaves) suffer much greater pain of a different kind (injustice itself)."

Sometimes I also say to myself: "Millions of people are demanding just a small amount of money from you. They do it without anger, without ill will, without any personal feelings. Their system makes it impossible for them to change their demand, and you have no way to appeal to other millions of people. Why put yourself up against this overwhelming brute force? You don't stubbornly resist cold and hunger, or the wind and waves. You quietly accept thousands of similar necessities. You don't stick your head in a fire."

But then I consider that this force (the government) is not entirely brute force; it's partly human force. I realize I have a relationship with those millions of people as fellow humans, not just as objects or animals. Because they are human, I see that an appeal is possible:

First, instantly, I can appeal from them to their Maker (God, or their own conscience).

Second, I can appeal from them to themselves (their better nature).

But if I deliberately stick my head in a fire, there's no appeal possible – not to the fire, and not to the maker of fire. I would only have myself to blame.

If I could convince myself that I should just be satisfied with people as they are, and treat them accordingly – instead of having expectations based on what they and I ought to be – then I could perhaps be content with the way things are. I could be like a good Muslim and fatalist, saying "it is the will of God."

And most importantly, there's a key difference between resisting this human force and resisting a purely natural force: I can resist human injustice with some effect. But I can't expect to change the nature of rocks, trees, and animals, like Orpheus in the myth.

Seeking Reasons to Conform

I don't want to quarrel with any person or nation. I don't want to argue over tiny details or make myself seem better than my neighbors. In fact, I might even say I often look for an excuse to follow the laws of the land. I am naturally too ready to conform.

I actually suspect myself on this point. Every year, when the tax collector comes around, I find myself wanting to review the government's actions and the mood of the people, hoping to find a good reason to just go along with things.

As a poet wrote, we should feel about our country like we feel about our parents. If we stop loving it or working for its honor, we must still respect the consequences and act based on conscience and duty, not out of a desire for power or personal gain.

Different Views of Government

I believe the State will soon improve enough to take all this kind of critical work out of my hands. When that happens, I'll be no better a patriot than anyone else.

Seen from a lower point of view, the Constitution, despite its flaws, is very good. The laws and courts are respectable. Even the Massachusetts State government and the American government are admirable and rare in many ways, things to be thankful for, just as many people describe them.

But seen from a slightly higher point of view, they are flawed, as I have described them.

Seen from a higher view still, and from the highest possible view, who can even say what they truly are, or if they are worth looking at or thinking about at all?

Personal Detachment

However, the government doesn't concern me much personally, and I plan to give it as little thought as possible. Even while living in this world, I don't spend many moments living under a government's direct influence. If a person is free in their thoughts, feelings, and imagination – if illusions don't appear real to them for long – then unwise rulers or reformers cannot fatally disrupt their life.

Critique of Politics and Politicians (Especially Webster)

I know most people think differently than I do. But even those who professionally study these topics don't satisfy me much. Statesmen and legislators stand so deep inside the system that they can never see it clearly and objectively. They talk about changing society, but they have no place to stand outside of it.

They might be experienced and intelligent. They have undoubtedly created clever and even useful systems, and we should thank them for that. But all their cleverness and usefulness operate within fairly narrow limits. They tend to forget that the world is not truly governed by political strategy and convenience ("policy and expediency").

Daniel Webster, a famous politician, never looks behind the structure of government, so he cannot speak about it with real authority. His words sound like wisdom to lawmakers who don't want any fundamental change in the current government. But for thinkers, and for those who try to make laws based on timeless principles, Webster never even touches the real subject. I know people whose calm and wise thoughts on government would quickly show the limits of Webster's thinking.

Yet, compared to the cheap promises of most reformers, and the even cheaper wisdom and speeches of typical politicians, Webster's words are almost the only sensible and valuable ones. We can be thankful for him in that sense. Comparatively speaking, he is always strong, original, and practical.

Still, his main quality is prudence (practical caution), not wisdom. A lawyer's truth is not absolute Truth, but consistency, or making expediency look consistent. Real Truth is always in harmony with itself and isn't mainly concerned with finding ways to justify injustice.

Webster deserves his title: "Defender of the Constitution." He only ever acts defensively. He is not a leader, but a follower. His leaders are the men who wrote the Constitution in 1787. He himself said he never made, and never planned to make, any effort to disturb the original agreement that brought the states together. Thinking specifically about the Constitution allowing slavery, he said, "Because it was a part of the original compact – let it stand."

Despite his intelligence and skill, he is unable to see a fact (like slavery) outside of its purely political context. He can't see it simply as a moral issue that requires an intellectual and ethical response. He doesn't address what a person should do about slavery in America today. Instead, he gives desperate answers like this (while claiming to speak absolutely, as a private citizen): The governments of slave states must regulate slavery themselves, under their responsibility to their voters, to general laws of decency, humanity, justice, and God. Anti-slavery groups formed elsewhere have nothing to do with it and will never get encouragement from him. What strange new ideas about social duties could come from such a statement?

Sources of Truth

People who know of no purer sources of truth, who haven't followed the stream of truth any higher, will stand by the Bible and the Constitution. They wisely drink from these sources with respect and humility.

But those who see where truth trickles down from into these lakes or pools will prepare themselves again. They will continue their journey toward the original source, the fountain-head of truth.

Lack of True Statesmanship

No person with a real genius for making laws has appeared in America. Such people are rare in world history. We have thousands of orators, politicians, and eloquent speakers. But the person capable of truly settling the difficult questions of our time has not yet spoken.

We love skilled speaking for its own sake, not for any truth it might contain or any heroic action it might inspire. Our lawmakers haven't yet learned the relative importance to a nation of:

Free trade versus Freedom itself

Union versus Moral uprightness (Rectitude)

They lack the genius or talent even for relatively basic questions of taxation, finance, business, manufacturing, and farming. If we were guided only by the fancy words of legislators in Congress, without correction from the practical experience and effective complaints of the people, America would not keep its high standing among nations for long.

The New Testament has been written for eighteen hundred years (though maybe I have no right to say this). Yet where is the legislator wise and practical enough to use the light it sheds on the science of lawmaking?

Toward the Ideal Government

The authority of government, even the kind I am willing to submit to, is still impure. (I will gladly obey those who know better and can do better than me, and often even those who don't know or do as well). To be strictly just, government must have the permission and consent of the people it governs. It can have no pure right over my person and property except for the right I give it.

The historical progress from absolute monarchy to limited monarchy, and from limited monarchy to democracy, is progress toward a true respect for the individual person. Even the ancient Chinese philosopher Confucius was wise enough to see the individual as the foundation of the empire.

Is democracy, as we know it, the best possible form of government? Isn't it possible to take another step forward? Can't we do more to recognize and organize the rights of individuals?

There will never be a truly free and enlightened State until the State recognizes the individual as a higher and independent power. The State's own power and authority come from the individual, and it must treat the individual accordingly.

I like to imagine a State that can finally afford to be just to all people. A State that treats every individual with respect, like a neighbor. A State that wouldn't even mind if a few people chose to live apart from it, not interfering with it or being controlled by it, as long as they fulfilled their duties as neighbors and fellow human beings.

A State that produced this kind of respect for the individual, and allowed these independent individuals to flourish, would prepare the way for an even more perfect and glorious State. This is a State I have imagined, but have not yet seen anywhere.