The following is copied from: https://www.fff.org/2026/08/20/conservatives-are-wrong-about-morality-responsibility-and-freedom/

Conservatives Are Wrong About Morality, Responsibility, and Freedom

by Jacob G. Hornberger

August 20, 2026

One of the fundamental differences between libertarians and conservatives pertains to the concepts of morality, responsibility, and freedom. Conservatives are wrong and libertarians are right on this issue.

Conservatives hold that before people can be permitted to be free, they have to be moral and responsible. Thus, the reason that many conservatives oppose freedom for the American people is because, conservatives say, the American people are not sufficiently moral and responsible. As soon as they become sufficiently moral and responsible, conservatives say, they will have earned the right to be free.

Thus, we need a drug war, conservatives say, because too many Americans consume illicit drugs. They even break criminal laws to do it. That shows that they are simply too immoral and irresponsible to live in a free society—that is, one that has no drug laws. As soon as Americans become moral and responsible by ceasing to consume illicit drugs, they’ll be permitted to live without drug laws.

Or consider the welfare state. Americans, conservatives tell us, are not sufficiently moral and responsible to decide for themselves whether to help out others who need help. We can’t, for example, repeal Social Security because children are not yet sufficiently moral or responsible to help out their parents or grandparents. They simply cannot be trusted to handle this on their own. That’s why we need Social Security, conservatives tell us. It’s also why conservatives tell us we need welfare programs for the poor. Since Americans are not sufficiently moral or responsible, we need a federal “safety net.”

There is, of course, one big problem with this conservative position: It lasts indefinitely. The lack of freedom becomes permanent. That’s because it is virtually impossible for people to become sufficiently moral or responsible when they are denied the freedom to choose. Without freedom of choice, people remain mired in immorality and irresponsibility.

Libertarianism holds that people have the right to be free regardless of whether they are sufficiently moral or responsible. Freedom is a natural, God-given right. It doesn’t depend on whether people are already moral or responsible. In other words, even if people are totally immoral and irresponsible, they nonetheless have the right to be free.

But here’s the catch: It is only through freedom that people can become moral or responsible. The conscience is like a muscle—it must be constantly exercised to be strengthened. When people are faced with such questions as “Should I help my ailing parents or grandparents in need?” or “Should I help that poor person in need?” or “Should I donate to my church?” they are necessarily exercising their conscience. That process is what elevates not only the sense of morality and responsibility within the individual but also society generally.

The best thing Americans could ever do is reject conservatism (as well as progressivism, which forces people to be good, caring, and compassionate). The best thing Americans could ever do is embrace libertarianism and the freedom, morality, and responsibility that come with it.

The book by Ben Bachrach, “Analysis of Audio Transducers using Bond Graphs” has been published on line at: https://aat.benbachrach.com/wp/

Here is an essay on Dr. Fauci
It may have been written before the disclosure of Fauci’s diary.
Published August 3, 2026 at:
https://robertringer.com/evil-versus-arrogance/

“Evil” is one of those words people use freely but rarely define. It is usually reserved for murderers, dictators, and assorted sociopaths who make no effort to conceal their contempt for human life. But the more interesting question is whether evil must involve cruelty or whether it can arise from something far more commonplace, e.g., vanity, ambition, self-deception, or the hunger for power.

Which brings us to Anthony Fauci. The temptation is to choose between two simple portraits: Fauci the selfless public servant or Fauci the evil calculating villain. To Fauci’s admirers, he was the calm voice of science during an unprecedented crisis. To his critics, he became the symbol of an arrogant public-health establishment that demanded obedience, discouraged dissent, and arrogantly presented uncertain judgments as settled facts.

Before classifying anyone as evil, we have to distinguish between bad intent, bad judgment, and bad results. A person can make disastrous decisions without desiring disastrous consequences. We’ve all made such decisions, but incompetence is not evil. Nor is arrogance.

Even the desire for fame and power, unattractive though it may be, does not automatically make someone evil. On the other hand, intentionally harming others is evil. Evil begins when a person knowingly places his own interests above the lives, liberty, or well-being of others and continues to do so even after he is aware of the damage he is causing.

Much of the case against Anthony Fauci involves his handling of scientific uncertainty. Mask recommendations changed. Claims about vaccination and transmission proved to be wrong. Lockdowns and school closures imposed enormous economic, educational, psychological, and medical costs. Critics of prevailing policies were often treated not merely as mistaken but dangerous.

Fauci would argue that recommendations changed because the evidence changed and that officials had to make decisions under emergency conditions. That defense cannot be dismissed out of hand. COVID-19 was a new disease, information was incomplete, and officials faced the possibility of mass death.

Nevertheless, uncertainty is not a blank check for authority. When government officials are uncertain, their moral obligation is to clearly say so. The public can tolerate uncertainty. What it will not indefinitely tolerate, however, is being told that science requires obedience today, only to discover tomorrow that yesterday’s commandment was provisional, exaggerated, or politically motivated.

The questions surrounding research funded through EcoHealth Alliance are particularly troubling. A federal inspector general concluded that both EcoHealth and the National Institutes of Health failed in important monitoring and reporting responsibilities, creating “missed opportunities” to oversee research properly. Even so, that finding does not prove Fauci created the virus, caused the pandemic, or committed a crime, but it does demonstrate that the system he helped lead was not the flawless temple of scientific competence portrayed to the public.

A Republican-led congressional investigation later accused public-health leaders of serious failures and excessive secrecy. Testimony and records released by the committee raised legitimate questions about transparency, recordkeeping, the definition of gain-of-function research, and the treatment of the laboratory-origin hypothesis.

Fauci, for his part, has insisted that he kept an open mind about COVID’s origins and denied suppressing the laboratory-leak possibility. He also defended NIAID’s research investments as necessary preparation for emerging diseases.

So, was Fauci evil? The evidence available to the public does not justify declaring, as an established fact, that Fauci deliberately sought widespread suffering. Nor is there clear evidence that personal fortune was the central motive behind his pandemic decisions. Fame and power are more plausible explanations, because Fauci clearly became a celebrity and exercised extraordinary influence. But plausibility is not proof of what was in his mind.

The more defensible judgment is that Fauci displayed the classic dangers of institutional power: excessive certainty, resistance to outside criticism, concern for bureaucratic reputation, and an apparent belief that experts should manage what ordinary people are permitted to hear and decide. That attitude can produce evil consequences even when the official involved believes himself to be virtuous.

Indeed, some of history’s worst abuses were not committed by people who awakened each morning thinking, “How can I be evil today?” They were committed by people convinced that their intelligence, credentials, or noble objectives placed them beyond ordinary moral restraints.  No doubt even Stalin and Mao thought they were acting virtuous on behalf of their people.

The final verdict on Anthony Fauci may depend upon evidence not yet available and upon facts that may never be known. But perhaps the most important lesson has less to do with Fauci than with human nature. The lust for fame, fortune, and power is not the opposite of evil, but it is often the road leading to evil. And that road becomes especially dangerous when the traveler insists that he alone represents science, truth, and/or the public good.

Thus, for the sake of fairness, it is entirely possible that Anthony Fauci is not an evil man, but merely an annoying little scoundrel who finagled his way into a breathtaking position of power over millions of innocent people. Which begs the question: Should an annoying little scoundrel who destroyed the lives of millions of people be punished the same as an evil person? It’s an interesting question—perhaps even a moral question—because for someone who lost a loved one to COVID, does it really matter if the cause was evil intent or arrogance?