Once, a person simply sat in a carriage, and later—behind the wheel of a car—and drove. Not because the state “allowed” it, but because the road was a road, transport was transport, and an adult person was considered capable of being responsible for their actions.
Then came the stationary bandit (“the state”). It did not take away freedom all at once—that would have been too noticeable. It acted carefully: first accounting, then registration, then a license, and finally a fine for its absence. And suddenly, that which was a right yesterday is called “authorization” today.
Driving a vehicle without a driver’s license? When automobiles first appeared, people learned to drive much like they learned to manage a horse: through practice, advice from acquaintances, and sometimes painful lessons. The license gradually became not just a confirmation of skill, but permission to use one’s own transport.
Crossing a border without a passport? Before the era of total passport control, millions of people traveled, moved, and looked for work without the ritual we are now accustomed to involving visas, stamps, and the humiliating question: “What is the purpose of your trip?” Today, a person is born on the planet, but to walk a few kilometers in another direction, they must prove to an official that they have a valid reason.
Building a house on your own land without approvals? It would seem the land is yours, the money is yours, the risk is yours. But no: bring a project, get a permit, coordinate setbacks, height, purpose, materials, utilities, and perhaps even the shade of the fence.
Buying medicine without a prescription? Once, a person could decide for themselves what to take, consulting a doctor, a pharmacist, or their own common sense. Now, many medications are available only after an official blessing. And it is not about whether medical advice is beneficial. It is about something else: why has advice turned into permission?
Opening a workshop, a production facility, or a small business without a license? Making soap, baking bread, transporting people, repairing houses, cutting hair, teaching children, hosting guests—the state increasingly views this not as a peaceful exchange between people, but as suspicious and illegal activity that must first be legalized.
Buying, carrying, and using weapons for self-defense without a license? In many countries and eras, weapons were a common tool of a free person—dangerous, requiring responsibility, but not a state gift. The authorization system turns everything upside down: a peaceful person must explain why they need a means of protection, and the state decides whether they are sufficiently convincing in their fear for their life.
And what about a child who wants to leave abusive parents for another reliable adult? In a natural order, they could find refuge with a relative, a neighbor, a teacher, or a family acquaintance. In an authorization-based order, an adult ready to help faces a practically prohibitive guardianship procedure, while the child meanwhile remains inside “properly documented” violence. The papers are in order—so, apparently, everything is fine. Bureaucracy has an amazing ability to fail to notice the human being behind an ideally filled-out form.
Practicing medicine without a state license? Of course, one should not deceive patients, hide qualifications, or cause harm—responsibility must be held for that. But the very fact of voluntary assistance, consultation, or treatment between people did not always require official permission. Licensing has replaced the question “Are you competent and honest?” with the question “Are you on the right list?”.
The main trick of the authorization state will be that it first declares a natural action dangerous, then forbids it without permission, and then issues permission and calls it the protection of freedom. This is how a right turns into a privilege. A right is something you can do as long as you do not violate the rights of others. A privilege is something you can do only when you are told “yes”.
And the most uncomfortable question here is not: “Why are they forbidding this to us?”. It sounds differently: “Why have we become accustomed to asking permission for our own lives?”.
