I recently had the pleasure of interviewing Keir Martland, leader of the Ludwig von Mises Centre UK (or Mises UK). This is a rebranding and continuation of the Libertarian Alliance as previously spearheaded by Sean Gabb. From Keir’s personal bio:
‘Keir Martland is the Director of the Ludwig von Mises Centre UK, having previously been Director of Publications for the Libertarian Alliance. He reads History at Selwyn College, Cambridge. He is a regular speaker at libertarian conferences such as at Professor Hans-Hermann Hoppe’s Property and Freedom Society in Bodrum, Turkey. Other speaking engagements have included at universities. He also appears in the news media from time to time, such as on Dublin City FM discussing the European Union Referendum in 2016, and on Cambridge University student radio station Cam FM. His writings have been published by The Salisbury Review, The Backbencher, Quadrangle Magazine, among others, and he has published a book of selected essays under the title Political and Cultural Essays. He is to be contacted at email@example.com‘
Keir Martland, thank you for agreeing to this interview. I’m curious to know how long you’ve personally considered yourself to be a libertarian, and how you became involved with the original Libertarian Alliance. Was there ever a time you aligned yourself with a different political position?
Naturally there was a time when I didn’t come to libertarian conclusions on political questions, but I have been a libertarian ever since I started thinking seriously about politics. This means that I’ve been a libertarian since I was about thirteen, perhaps longer than that. It was around this time that I started devouring all the major texts, which we’ll no doubt come to later – some of them Austrian School, some Objectivist, some Beltway classical liberal, some conservative – and then writing the occasional essay.
My involvement with the Libertarian Alliance began when they published one of my essays on the libertarian arguments against Open Borders. I seem to recall the Publications Director, Dr Meek, suggesting I use a pseudonym since I was so young, but my attitude was “if I’ve written something, I want my name on it!” Vanity thy name is Keir. Now, since the Libertarian Alliance by this stage had ceased to put on conferences and dinners and had decided to focus on its on-line output, my ‘involvement’, first as Youth Affairs Director from 2014 and then taking over from Nigel Meek in 2016 as Publications Director, while intimate, was not exactly burdensome; my responsibilities involved running the LA’s social media and then later its copyrights and to some extent moderating its Blog. In addition to this, I was wheeled out on a few occasions to represent the organisation where no one else would do. One such occasion was a debate at Manchester University in February 2015, where I performed terribly in front of a pack of hostile students. I performed rather better in a radio appearance for an Irish radio station during the European Union Referendum. At the same time, I was encouraged, in a spirit of ecumenism if you like, to attend various conferences of organisations which might be receptive to our own particular brand of libertarianism. How successful I was in this last role, I’m not sure, but then I never have been a ‘networker’, which from what I can gather means a rather outgoing sort of person with no fixed opinions.
Who are some of your intellectual influences, both within and without the libertarian tradition?
The greatest influence on my own libertarianism, and perhaps on my intellectual development as a whole, is undoubtedly Hans-Hermann Hoppe. Democracy: The God that Failed was obviously important for me, but then so was The Economics and Ethics of Private Property, and so was A Theory of Socialism and Capitalism. And, if the driest book I’ve yet read, I also immensely enjoyed Economic Science and the Austrian Method, which is a short, dense exposition of the much-misunderstood Austrian method and the Austrian conception of what exactly ‘truth’ means in the social sciences. In other words, it is essential reading for anyone interested in not only doing economics, but for anyone who also wants to think about economics – the two don’t often go hand-in-hand in the universities. Furthermore, Hoppe’s application of the same axiomatic-deductive approach to political philosophy puts our system on the firmest footing possible. Of course, Hoppe is the first to acknowledge that he is to some extent standing of the shoulders of giants – Murray Rothbard, Jürgen Habermas, Immanuel Kant, the Scholastic School, among others. And indeed, one can find an equally satisfying, if less rigorous exposition of the existence of a Natural Law in C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity, and something approaching Argumentation Ethics in Morris and Linda Tannehill’s The Market for Liberty. Nevertheless, I think the key word here is “rigorous”; Hans-Hermann Hoppe to my mind is the most rigorous, water-tight economist, philosopher, and social scientist of our time, and without his work I would be left merely thinking libertarianism was just a nice set of precepts. In short, it was Hoppe who convinced me that libertarianism is true.
Other libertarian influences? I’ve mentioned Rothbard and the now little-known anarcho-objectivist Tannehills. Continuing with the theme of Americans, I found Lysander Spooner’s essay on the American Constitution quite powerful. Many libertarians, particularly rather radical ones like me, seem to adore the American Constitution and codified constitutions generally. If you’re one of them, try Spooner; he’ll sort you out. If you haven’t the patience, ask yourself a few simple questions, almost like a child would. Why should we venerate a piece of paper signed by a few men in the late eighteenth century? It’s quite short, but why can’t it be even shorter? If it’s so great, why does it allow for amendments? And why don’t American Presidents roll about laughing when they promise to uphold and protect it?
So far I’ve mentioned a lot of Americans. The fact is that Americans seem to do libertarianism better than any other nation. I don’t mean that they put it into practice very well, but I do mean that their thinkers are prepared to do the hard thinking, whereas English classical liberalism never really did advance beyond ‘a nice set of precepts.’ This is a charge also levelled against conservatism, but I would say that this could be unfair depending on what we mean by ‘conservatism.’ We could return to conservatism later. Here I will simply say my broadly conservative influences include Chesterton, C.S. Lewis, Belloc, Peter Hitchens, Robert Nisbet, Erik von Kuehnelt-Leddihn, Aidan Nichols, Kingsley Amis, A.N. Wilson, and Evelyn Waugh. Sean Gabb has obviously been a big influence and a close friend too, and his best non-fiction work is best described as ultra-conservative cultural criticism.
As I have mentioned a few novelists, too, I feel I should, albeit with some reluctance, mention the Carry On films. These are, despite many of them being smutty sex farces, profoundly conservative – they are quite clearly laughing at infidelity and other forms of bad behaviour, rather than condoning them – and since I watched them at such a young age, I think they were formative. Argument can only take you so far if you have been brought up to find the wrong things funny. Again, I’m sure we’ll come back to conservatism, but all good comedy before the rise of modern ‘alternative comedians’ only reinforces inherently natural prejudices. If you are a parent of young children and want your son or daughter to grow up to respect the natural order of things, there are a number of things you can do, but don’t try reading Man, Economy, and State to them. Instead, you could do worse than buy the box set of some mid-twentieth century British comedies such as On the Buses, Are You Being Served?, and All Gas and Gaiters. If you sit them in front of The Big Bang Theory, How I Met Your Mother, Two and a Half Men, or other such third-rate American shows, more power to you, but don’t expect them to grow up thinking that atheism, casual sex, dysfunctional families, and the like, are anything but the norm.
You recently became leader of the Libertarian Alliance, switching over the title of the organisation to Mises UK. Name aside, how will Mises UK differ from the Libertarian Alliance as lead by Sean Gabb?
Well, perhaps it’s for others to judge how the two organisations differ, but the Ludwig von Mises Centre (“Mises UK”) will endeavour to bring the intellectual rigour I mentioned, best exemplified in Hoppe, Rothbard, and Mises, into the British libertarian movement. The case for free markets in this country is often put very well by the various neoliberal and quasi-libertarian policy institutes in the City and we won’t be ‘competing’ with them, but rather complementing them. We hope to help the British Right overcome its timidity in attacking the corporatist, social democratic consensus by producing papers, holding conferences, appearing in the news media etc., and putting the most consistently intellectually radical case for decentralisation, sound money, private property, etc. But don’t be fooled by the name; Mises UK will seek to address every issue of importance in public life, from privatisation to cultural controversies to foreign policy, and always in the spirit of the Property and Freedom Society: no self-censorship, no Political Correctness, and no intellectual taboos.
In my eyes, one of the defining aspects of Mises UK, the original Libertarian Alliance and its twin organisation of the same name, is its non-partisan nature, with contributors that range from High Tory traditionalists and Old Right conservatives to social anarchists and left-wing human rights activists like Peter Tatchell. How important do you consider this diverse, cross-spectrum nature of the libertarian movement to be?
Any joint enterprise is a coalition; I don’t agree with each and every one of the members of the Advisory Council or the Faculty of Mises UK on every single issue, and I’m sure the feeling is mutual. But we agree on enough to work together. This is not unique to Mises UK. It is the same with a movement. The libertarian movement is a coalition, sometimes of those who believe in the same means but for different ends and sometimes the same ends but different means. I might want a smaller State, but disagree with you on how to achieve this. I’ll still listen to you, because I value the end so highly. Conversely, I might campaign to end a particular foreign war because I think it’s a good way to cut government spending, whereas you might care more about the poor oppressed people of X. We would still work together. The Libertarian Alliance always took this one step further in that it was a coalition of libertarians and non-libertarians, or a coalition of intentional libertarians and incidental libertarians. If you agree with me that we ought to leave the European Union, but you haven’t bothered to slog through every page of Human Action, does that mean I won’t share a platform with you? No, the more the merrier. This being said, we have to be careful that we don’t ally ourselves with the wrong people, or become too closely involved with people who ultimately don’t share our values or who are persistently ignorant. We can all too often get carried away and think “these are men with whom we can do business!” only to find out later that they are stubborn heretics who will never convert to the True Faith, see Murray Rothbard and Lew Rockwell’s attempted conversion of the Buchananites in the 1990s.
You’ve described yourself as an advocate of both High Toryism and Austro-libertarianism, do you find that these tendencies harmonise easily?
Yes they harmonise and necessarily so. I mentioned before that a lot depends on how one defines conservatism. Indeed, for many it simply means defending the status quo, but this obviously can’t be the case, because conservatism could mean anything depending on the time and place that way. And, for members of the British Conservative Party, conservatism seems to mean revolutionary cultural leftism, social democracy, State surveillance, and endless foreign military interventions, which is a curious definition without any precedent in the history of conservatism. No, these two definitions will not do. There must be a definition of conservative which is meaningful and which seems to accurately describe the worldview of such people as Peter Hitchens and Roger Scruton.
Forgive the lengthy quotation, but let me refer you to Hans-Hermann Hoppe’s definition from Democracy: The God that Failed:
‘Conservative’ refers to someone who recognizes the old and natural through the “noise” of anomalies and accidents and who defends, supports, and helps to preserve it against the temporary and anomalous. Within the realm of the humanities, including the social sciences, a conservative recognizes families (fathers, mothers, children, grandchildren) and households based on private property and in cooperation with a community of other households as the most fundamental, natural, essential, ancient, and indispensable social units. Moreover, the family household also represents the model of the social order at large. Just as a hierarchical order exists in a family, so is there a hierarchical order within a community of families-of apprentices, servants, and masters, vassals, knights, lords, overlords, and even kings-tied together by an elaborate and intricate system of kinship relations; and of children, parents, priests, bishops, cardinals, patriarchs or popes, and finally the transcendent God. Of the two layers of authority, the earthly physical power of parents, lords, and kings is naturally subordinate and subject to control by the ultimate spiritual-intellectual authority of fathers, priests, bishops, and ultimately God. Conservatives (or more specifically, Western Greco-Christian conservatives), if they stand for anything, stand for and want to preserve the family and the social hierarchies and layers of material as well as spiritual-intellectual authority based on and growing out of family bonds and kinship relations.’
There you have the Hoppean definition of conservatism: recognition of the Natural Order. Since libertarianism advocates an abstract Natural Order of private law, resting on voluntary agreements only and not on compulsion, one may regard libertarianism and conservatism as two sides of the same coin. Libertarianism is the abstract Natural Order; conservatism is the empirical-historical Natural Order. It is for this reason that I would say a libertarian must be a conservative and a conservative must be a libertarian. A conservative society will quickly degenerate into tyranny with a large State just as a libertarian society without God and the family will be empty and meaningless. But the key to both libertarianism and conservatism must be the organic, or the natural. Both are incompatible with the revolutionary spirit.
Such a crossover, or fusion, of libertarianism and conservatism used to be called ‘paleolibertarianism’, though the term doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue, and it is a great pity that the word ‘naturalism’ already has several meanings. Examples of the conservative-libertarian would include Robert Nisbet, Joe Sobran, Frank Chodorov, Erik von Kuehnelt-Leddihn, J.R.R. Tolkien, and there are countless living examples at the Mises Institute in Auburn like Jeff Deist and Tom Woods. Deist recently got into hot water for pointing out that, for most real people, “blood and soil and God and nation” still matter and that libertarians ignore this at the risk of their own irrelevance. Whether the words “blood and soil” would have been best avoided, I don’t really care, because the point is absolutely right.
And yes, I have taken to using ‘High Tory’ as a short-hand, even if this term comes with all kinds of historical Absolutist baggage which I might not necessarily buy into. For the avoidance of any doubt, I do not buy into the quasi-sanctification of the State committed by some Tories. At the heart of early Christianity was the crucial distinction between the Empire and the ecclesia and this is at the root of the scepticism of secular power which is unique to the West. Yes, the Church did ally itself with the secular powers from time to time after the conversion of Constantine, but it was always done from a distance, and always after particularly close periods of Church support for the secular powers there came an equally strong Reforming reaction from within the Church, the Gregorian Reform movement for example had as its great slogan, “Libertas Ecclesiae.” The Tory and High Anglican theory of the Divine Right of Kings is a nonsense born out of an Erastian Church Settlement. Yes, there was ample precedent for co-operation between Church and monarch, but not for the belief that the latter was, in pagan style, divine himself, or at least one of “God’s lieutenants.”
I use the term High Tory to express something less clear and precise. High Toryism can be used to describe wildly differing political views, ranging from neo-feudalism to very ‘moderate’ One Nation conservatism, but what folk really have in mind when they use the term is more like a personal disposition or attitude which is very difficult to describe and define, but which could be summarised as a lack of any propensity to moral outrage. For the High Tory, Kenneth Williams’ remarks in a television interview given in the mid-1970s ring true:
‘…I did this broadcast recently and I mentioned that a girl [I had been going out with at school] had peed in the gutter … *incredulous laughter from the audience* … No, she did. She said it was alright if you’re taken short. And I mentioned this and I got loads of letters saying “how disgraceful, talking about people peeing!” You know, everybody gets so worked up. I always think it’s a very interesting trait in some English, there’s a loads of ‘em, from Mary Whitehouse down, who are all waiting to pounce on what they regard as immorality, you know…[But] in actual fact what is it that offends these people?… it’s that they feel something is being said that could corrupt…[T]his is one of the favourite ploys of the people that are anti-‘permissive’ sort of entertainment. They say things like “well, they could corrupt, you see, those people with that filth coming out, that could corrupt young people watching could be corrupted” which is all rubbish. Absolute rubbish. Children are never corrupted by it, believe me. You are only corrupted by your own smells, never by other people’s…I’m totally incorruptible. Once you’ve got a faith, I don’t think anything can ever dislodge it.’
In other words, the Tory prefers to confess his own sins, rather than other people’s. There is also much to be said for the neo-reactionary Calvinist or Puritan hypothesis of Mencius Moldbug, which I won’t attempt to summarise here. But I digress. A traditional Tory society naturally expects the highest standards in public life, but because it recognises we are all deeply flawed, unless it is evidence of great wickedness, turpitude, or depravity, what goes on in private is simply ignored. On this basis, Cecil Parkinson deserved to be driven out of politics and polite society. Beyond this, while every sin affects the Body of Christ, the Tory doesn’t get too worked up about other people’s sins. After all, it is not to each other that we will answer on Judgement Day. The world would be full of saints if we each of us found the burden of our own sins as intolerable as those of the rest of the world. At any rate, these rambling thoughts may actually be important to try to make more coherent, since politics is downstream from culture, as Sean Gabb would say.
In a talk that you gave to the Property and Freedom Society you made a powerful, Bellocian case for the rejection of the Whig account of the so-called Glorious Revolution, contending that James II was not a tyrant but a strong advocate of liberal freedom, defender of the yeomanry and proponent of non-intrusive, Tolkienesque unconstitutional monarchy. How did you reach this conclusion?
I wasn’t necessarily arguing that James II was a liberal, but rather that he was relative to everyone else. But you ask how I reached my conclusion; by looking at the evidence for all of the charges against him and finding it to be lacking and then looking for evidence directly to the contrary and finding it in abundance. The case against James II is one of the clearest cases of history being written by the victors. Of course, I won’t deny that I began with my own personal biases – I have always been sceptical of the Idea of Progress and I am, like James, a Roman Catholic, if a strange crypto-Anglican one – but many of James’ positive attributes – his reluctance to raise taxes, his toleration of Protestant Nonconformists, his refusal to play the international ‘Game of Thrones’ if you like, etc. – are admirable even if you’re not a libertarian or conservative Catholic.
Some libertarian and conservative thinkers, such as Hoppe and Kuehnelt-Leddihn (and perhaps Tolkien), maintain a similar view towards monarchy more generally, and consequently an aversion to popular democracy. How do you feel about this perspective? Are you a sympathiser?
Monarchy is eminently natural. Private property is a monarchy. The family is a monarchy. The Church is a monarchy. Though he’s an Absolutist, I can’t help agreeing with large passages of Robert Filmer’s Patriarcha, if only as a good antidote to the Whiggish lies of the barons, the nobility, and Parliament.
Now, I don’t propose to summarise Hans-Hermann Hoppe’s argument that traditional feudal monarchies were relatively superior to modern democratic arrangements. I have done that before, and in any case it is best just to read Hoppe for yourself. The shortest summary of the argument is found in his essay From Aristocracy to Monarchy to Democracy. All I will say is that from this one does not conclude that a monarchical state is the ne plus ultra, but rather that if there is to be a state, it is better that this be a private government run as if it were private property rather than a public government. The disastrous record of democracy in practice since the late nineteenth century confirms everything which Hoppe shows by axiomatic-deductive reasoning to be inevitable.
Even before I had read Democracy, as an amateur student of history I had always wondered how any sane historian could view the transition from monarchy to democracy as Progress. Democracy is a disgusting and dangerous system which destroys societies. The Ancients understood this. Plato in the Republic seems to me to have the progression from aristocracy through timocracy, oligarchy, and democracy to tyranny about right just from observing our own history. Yet to criticise democracy in this country is to commit gross heresy. “You don’t believe in mob rule?” Well, no I don’t. Most ordinary people in this country make a big enough mess of their own lives; why should they have a ‘vote’ on other people’s life and property? When you shut your front door, aren’t you glad the neighbours don’t have a vote to decide what is for dinner or what temperature to set the thermostat? Why then do ‘the people’ suddenly assume the right every five years to soak the rich and demand more free stuff? Democracy thus described destroys more than just capital, Hoppe explaining the inevitable capital consumption, but any sense of freedom and privacy. And if the electorate isn’t frightening enough, there’s the politicians, those who seek “the most improper job of any man”, wrote Tolkien, for which “not one in a million is fit.”
Most libertarians, however, when presented with the Whiggish pro-democracy historiography, lap it up and cheer on the Magna Carta of 1215, the Peasant’s Revolt, the Puritans, the Revolution of 1688-9, the Reform Acts of the 19th century etc. Libertarians must actually be reactionary, rather than progressive, because our Natural Order disappeared a long time ago. It is, however, natural, when looking at history, to want to identify with a particular faction or grouping either pushing forward or against a particular change. Libertarians have always sought to identify with the 17th century Whigs battling fiercely against the new Absolutism. Yet as Frank Van Dunn argues brilliantly in his essay Liberalism and its Discontents, libertarians have lost touch with their mediaeval roots. The medieval liberals were those who fought for independence from the emerging state; the early modern ‘liberals’ were those who sought to take over the state for themselves.
As an individual, I have little faith in electoral politics. However, I was recently reading over the manifesto of the Libertarian Party UK led by Adam Brown, and came to find that they are very strong advocates of having a written and codified British constitution, subject to amendment only by a ‘direct democratic’ convention comparable to the constitutional arrangements in the USA and continental Europe. This would greatly hinder liberal/libertarian progress in the UK as far as I’m concerned, and as an incorrigible proponent of the unwritten constitutional tradition I feel it’s imperative that we maintain this tradition if we can ever hope for a libertarian future for these isles. I believe that the unwritten constitution as inherited is inseparable from British liberty, and was wondering whether you have any strong feelings either way in the unwritten/written debate?
I attended the 2017 LPUK conference, where good old Godfrey Bloom spoke, and Frank Karsten gave his own version of Hans-Hermann Hoppe’s argument in his speech. From the speeches and the conversation, I got the impression that they were open to Hoppean anarcho-capitalism and not particularly set on any specific policies. We are so far away from anything remotely resembling a libertarian order, that it doesn’t make too much sense to get into heated debates about codified versus uncodified constitutions. This being said, I don’t like codified constitutions and I think the constitutional reforms of the last couple of decades – Lords Reform, the ‘Supreme Court’, and so forth – have served to undermine historic English civil liberties and our national identity. Those libertarians calling for the removal of the remaining 90 or so hereditaries and the Anglican bishops and their replacement with yet more political spivs and jumped-up celebrities and businessmen are kidding themselves if they think this will be a great triumph for limited government. All of these reforms, however, are often supported by those who have the best of intentions; those who carry them out are another matter. Take devolution, for example. In theory, devolution means giving more power to local people over their own lives and property, in other words, it is in line with the principle of subsidiarity and something that libertarians should support. In practice, the New Labour government simply created a few new Assemblies with lots of big salaries for members of the Political Class. When ‘reforming’ itself, the State does have a tendency to enlarge itself and enrich its friends. Funny that.
How do you feel about the left-right political spectrum? Do you consider yourself to be right-wing, or do you find the spectrum to be redundant?
On this question, libertarians often complacently say “Left and Right are meaningless.” I’m afraid this won’t do. Everyone thinks in terms of Left and Right and we cannot afford to make ourselves obscure by speaking a different language to the rest of the populace. Libertarians are on the Right, since they are concerned with the defence or restoration of the Natural Order. This need not worry us; Erik von Kuehnelt-Leddihn reminds us that Right means, in all the European languages, “right”, “rightly”, “rightful” or some variant, while in some languages Left has negative connotations. He also reminds us that we say in the Creed that we believe “in Jesus Christ…who… sitteth on the right hand of God the Father Almighty.” And everyone knows the terms originated in a political sense in the French National Assembly, with the revolutionary spirit on the Left and the party of order on the Right. Today we have only parties of the Left in power and in ‘opposition’, and so in that sense there is no spectrum to speak of.
This is not to say, however, that all threats to liberty are exactly the same, but they are all by their nature Leftist, since they threaten a Natural Order. The two principal threats today seem to me to be represented very well by the two big political parties, Labour and the Conservatives. The former represents the mobocracy I mentioned earlier and the latter represents plutocracy or corporatocracy. These two interest groups, the proletariat and the plutocrats, are often at war but neither of them is on the side of liberty. These are the “two inferiorities struggling for the privilege of polluting the world” identified by Mencken.
Do you side more with the minarchist libertarian tendency, or would you consider yourself to be more of an anarcho-capitalist?
I am an anarcho-capitalist. This has always seemed the logical conclusion of nonaggression, but for a lot of people there is a big psychological barrier to accepting this, perhaps because the very word ‘anarchy’ is also synonymous with ‘chaos’ in our language. But we are so far away from a minimal state, let alone a stateless order, that it makes no sense to get into heated arguments over this trifling difference.
Prior to the US presidential election 2016 you made a libertarian case for the election of Donald Trump. Almost a year on from the election, do you still feel that Donald Trump was the best hope for libertarianism in the USA?
Oh, the Constitution Party candidate was alright, but he only stood in a few States. In November, the Americans had a choice between being shot in the foot and having a brick dropped on their foot. They chose the brick. Most of us would have done that. It just turns out that the brick is a little heavier than anticipated. This being said, Mr Trump is doing his best to take a sledgehammer to Political Correctness. And the thing about this war against Political Correctness is that he doesn’t have to win each and every one of the fights he picks; all he needs to do is say, or Tweet, something, and all the open-minded people around the world who watch the radical Left’s response will say “I don’t see why there’s all this fuss.”
What can readers expect to find in your debut work ‘Liberty from a Beginner’? Do you have any plans to produce more books or collections of essays in the future?
Many more, but all in good time. My first book – the new edition is called Political and Cultural Essays – is simply a collection of essays, some of them good, some probably already irrelevant and out of date. If you’re good enough to buy it, I’ll naturally be most grateful, but don’t put it in a queue behind The Iliad!
Finally, are there any books that have had an impact on your political and philosophical outlook that you would care to recommend to the readers?
Recently I’ve been reading a lot of Aidan Nichols, so I’d recommend The Panther and the Hind: A Theological History of Anglicanism, Christendom Awake, The Thought of Benedict XVI, The Shape of Catholic Theology, Discovering Aquinas, and G.K. Chesterton, Theologian, for those interested in that kind of thing. No English speaker, whether Anglican or not, should be without a copy of the Book of Common Prayer, either 1662 or 1928 edition. Like Benedict XVI – apparently – I keep a copy of Lancelot Andrewes’ Preces Privatae close to my bed. I’m also dipping in and out of Pope John XXIII’s Journal of a Soul which is an absolute goldmine. I would also recommend Enoch Powell’s Freedom and Reality, if only for his wonderful writing style.
Thanks a lot for your time, is there any else you’d like to conclude with?
Thank you for asking such interesting questions.
How Glorious was the “Glorious Revolution?” (Property and Freedom Society)
The British Libertarian Case for Trump (Free Life)
Libertarian Thoughts on Foreign Policy (Libertarian Alliance)
Family Structures and the Privatisation of Offspring (Traditional Britain Group)
Bank of England Genesis (Fin Lingo)
On the EU (Good Morning Dublin)
Keir Martland Interviews Stephen Kinsella (The Libertarian)
Keir Martland Interviews Keith Preston (The Libertarian)
Paleo-Libertarianism and the Heresies to the Natural Order (That Libertarian Chap)