We will have bigger bureaucracies, bigger labor unions, and

Hear, O seeker of wisdom, the words of Arthur C. Brooks, who spoke with foresight and warning: “We will have bigger bureaucracies, bigger labor unions, and bigger state-run corporations. It will be harder to be an entrepreneur because of punitive taxes and regulations. The rewards of success will be expropriated for the sake of attaining greater income equality.” These words are not cast idly into the wind, but are forged from the fire of observation, history, and the eternal struggle between freedom and control. They call us to ponder deeply the cost of systems that promise fairness but may steal the very lifeblood of innovation.

For Brooks points to the peril of bureaucracy when it grows without restraint. The ancients knew this too: when the empire of Rome swelled in its latter days, offices multiplied, officials flourished, and parchment became mightier than the sword. Yet in this swelling of the state, the vigor of the people diminished. Farmers abandoned fields burdened with taxes, merchants ceased trading under the weight of regulations, and the empire grew brittle though it seemed mighty. Thus, Brooks warns us that when institutions grow larger than the people they serve, they consume the spirit of enterprise.

He speaks also of labor unions and state-run corporations, not as enemies in themselves, but as titans that can grow so vast that they stifle the smaller voices of innovation. When the balance is lost, when the power of the individual is crushed beneath the machinery of the collective, creativity withers. The dreamer, who once sought to build with courage and toil, hesitates, fearing the claws of regulation and the punishment of daring to succeed.

The warning is sharpened in the words punitive taxes and regulations. For what is a tax that punishes but a chain upon ambition? And what is a regulation that suffocates but a wall that hems in the free spirit? History shows us this truth in the tale of the Soviet Union, where brilliant minds were bound not to invention but to obedience, where rewards were severed from effort, and excellence was drowned beneath the call for sameness. Though the banners cried equality, the land was marked by stagnation, scarcity, and despair.

Yet Brooks does not despise income equality, for justice demands fairness, and society cannot flourish when the poor are forgotten. His words remind us, however, that equality without liberty is no true equality at all. To expropriate the rewards of success without measure is to strip the world of its inventors, its risk-takers, its visionaries who labor not only for themselves but for the progress of all. For the fruits of entrepreneurship—new medicines, new tools, new industries—have lifted countless souls from poverty. But if the tree is punished for bearing fruit, soon it shall bear no more.

Beloved, understand the balance: a society must care for the weak, but it must also honor the strong. It must uplift the fallen, but it must also encourage the bold to climb higher. To err on either side—neglect of the poor or oppression of the successful—is to wound the body of the nation. The words of Brooks remind us that harmony is delicate, and the path of wisdom is to guard both compassion and freedom together.

What then shall you do? As citizens, demand justice, but also demand liberty. Support policies that help the struggling without crushing the daring. Cherish the entrepreneur, for their courage creates opportunity for many. And yet, temper their victories with generosity, so that their abundance does not blind them to the needs of the hungry. Teach your children that greatness lies not only in achievement, but also in service—that success is richest when it is shared, but poorest when it is stolen.

Thus, let Brooks’ words stand as a beacon. They warn of the shadows that fall when systems grow too large, when fairness becomes a weapon against freedom. But they also call us to vigilance, to balance, and to wisdom. For a society that honors both justice and enterprise shall endure, strong as an oak with deep roots and wide branches, sheltering all who dwell beneath it.