ABSTRACT
Two points in the analysis of the term 'free', which opened Chapter 9, need repeating here, for they cast light on our present problems. First: 'X is free' says very little about X, unless we can tell from the context what sort of restraint he is free from, and what sort of course he is thereby free to follow. There are as many sorts of freedom as there are ways of completing 'free t o . . . ' and 'free from.. . ' . Consequently, when we meet the assertion that, for example, political freedom is not 'true' or 'real' freedom, but that some other sort is, we must understand the writer to mean, not that a mistake has been made about the meaning of the word, or in describing the facts of a situation, but that it is more important to be free from some other sort of restraint than from political restraints. But to say that one thing is 'more important' than another is to recommend or prescribe, not to describe. Secondly: in most contexts 'free' has strong commendatory force; exceptionally, as with reference to an escaped criminal, we might say 'Alas, he is free!', but we should be surprised to hear 'Alas, I am free!', because we should hardly use the term unless we were glad about it. (Existentialist doctrines seem paradoxical and striking because they treat 'I am free' as a ground for anguish.)
This feature of 'freedom' accounts in part for the difficulty some political theorists have had in reconciling themselves to the need for government. If freedom is a good thing, what can justify a few men
exercising power over others, to prevent them doing what they want to do? Tom Paine thought that government was a necessary evil; if we agreed with him, we should have to decide just how much limitation of our freedom that necessity would justify. An important task of political theory is, in fact, to decide between the claims of liberty and authority, and to fix their proper frontiers.
