This is, in truth, a cynical position. I do not believe, and I have never believed, that freedom is necessarily a good for all people at all times. Like any other quality, it can be used for good or for ill.
In the contact between any barbarian people and any civilized people, some species of slavery is necessary. The barbarian does not know that he is a barbarian, and the only way to convey to him the fact that he stands at the bottom of a long ladder—a ladder so long that we have by no means reached its end, and have perhaps not yet seen its midpoint—is to force him to make contact with elements of civilization, and to utilize continuous force to keep this contact alive and viable.
The alien—the barbarian—will not of himself continue contact in any meaningful manner. The gap is too great between his life and that of the civilized person, and a disparity so great becomes, simply, invisible. Under conditions of equality, the civilized person must degenerate to barbarian status: his mind can comprehend the barbarian, and he can move in that direction. The barbarian, incapable of comprehension of the civilized world, cannot move toward that which he cannot see.
In order to bring him into motion, slavery and subjection appear necessities. There has been no civilization of which we have record which has not passed through a period of subjection to another, more forceful civilization: the Greeks, the Romans, the Jews, all the great civilizations of which there is available record have passed through a period of slavery. Nor is this accidental.
Some force must be applied to begin the motion toward civilization. That force—disguise it how you will—is slavery. It is clearly the attempt to make another person do what he would not do, does not wish to do, and sees no personal profit in doing, under threat of punishment. It is subjection. That subjection is all we mean by slavery.
And slavery is a necessity.
Perhaps we were wrong: perhaps the slavery which was dictated to us by the conditions which prevailed upon Fruyling's World was not the best sort available. But freedom is not, in any case, the answer. A man may die as the result of too much oxygen: a culture, likewise, may die of too much freedom.
I have no fear of the sentence of this court. My death is unimportant, and I do not fear it. I might fear that my work be left undone, were I not certain that, under whatever name, the Confederation will find it necessary to maintain slavery on Fruyling's World.
Of this, I am quite sure.