Listening to President Trump’s inaugural address, I couldn’t help but be struck by the references to colonizing Mars, splitting the atom, and holding all the world’s knowledge in the palm of our hands. After years of denigration by Washington, it’s refreshing to see technology again celebrated as the engine of American economic growth in an administration focused on innovation. Finally, we’re seeing enthusiasm for the myriad ways that government can leverage our technology sector to promote American dynamism—building companies that support the national interest—by unleashing limitless energy, deterring conflict, and manufacturing abundance of all kinds.
This excites me because American dynamism is my day job, my life’s work and my calling. But it also makes me think about my other job—which is also, according to the ordo amoris, my most consequential job. This job, too, is deeply tied to building American dynamism in the most concrete way. And that job is my work and my duty as a mother. For all the talk of technology and the state, there should be much more talk about the other institution that is perpetually at war with it: the institution of the family.
All of history is a war between the family and the state.
All of history is a war between the family and the state. Any college student studying Plato’s Republic learns quickly of this fundamental conflict, though it’s often only discussed in political theory classes. But in practice, it’s clear that these two institutions are often incompatible in their quest for control over how we live, what we believe, what we worship, our history, and our daily reality. If this sounds a bit hyperbolic at a time when the family now seemingly sits comfortably inside the state, that is because the state has been winning this civilizational war against the family for decades.
