Last night, despite digestive distress and a body temperature over 100F, I crawled out of the tub (I soak when I get a fever — it makes me feel less clammy) to go hear Russ Stewart lecture at UMD about “Humane Libertarianism.”

I think of Russ as a friend and colleague (Russ teaches at Lake Superior College), but even with that starting point, I expected to heckle a little — “humane libertarianism” being something like “compassionate conservatism.” Despite my cynicism, physical discomfort and overheating internal engine, I couldn’t heckle, not once.

It’s clear to me that Russ Stewart is among the most gifted teachers I have watched speak, and one of the most gifted political thinkers in Duluth. Listening to Russ speak about Humane Libertarianism was the first moment, since I was old enough to understand what politics is, that I imagined Something Else was possible — not just band-aid fixes on a broken system, but an alternative system.

Russ started with defining the principles of libertarianism, then cashed those principles out into a spectrum of actual political positions held by libertarian thinkers. These, he spelled out as classical liberalism (the kind of libertarianism who would object to any government action beyond a set of enumerated powers), minarchism (an even more minimal vision of government — basically, just enough government to keep people from punching each other), and anarchism (where Russ locates his ideals, if not his everyday political praxis).

Along the way, Russ took moments to describe counter-positions and misconceptions of these more classical visions of libertarianism. These are not ‘philosophies of greed,’ because in an ideal libertarian state, transactions are not “win-lose” but “win-win.” The ideal libertarian transaction would see both parties as “winners” in the transaction, satisfied and happily willing to transact again. Because the vision is one of mutual growth and satisfaction, Russ argued, the libertarian perspective is humanitarian.

I admit — my visions of libertarian thought are clouded by Ayn Rand on the one hand and the discourse of “liberty” on the Sean Hannity radio show. Neither of these, Russ made clear, is traditional libertarian thought, but distortions and abuses of the language of libertarian thought.

Like a good educator, like a good philosopher, Russ always made clear the classical perspectives… identifying the traditions of thought. But what was really edifying about the talk was not the philosophical rigor, but the vision of a society that Russ imagines possible. Russ imagines a world in which mutual positive growth is the common goal, in which people who seek to violate that common goal are punished first and foremost socially (ostracized, shunned) and that pressure pulls them back into mutually beneficial behavior. Russ believes in a society where social forces alone are strong enough to regulate or moderate behavior, and so the threat of force or imprisonment is almost unnecessary. What is significant, in Russ’s vision, is not the threat of force, but the threat of isolation — no one else being willing to trade with you because they do not trust that you will behave in a mutually rewarding fashion. In so many ways, this vision is deeply attractive, deeply seductive.

The real power of Russ’s vision is its fundamental belief that individuals want to do the right thing — that our fundamental impulses are not to abuse, dominate, or take advantage of other people. I found myself troubled because I realized that, in my own liberal desires for a strong social safety net, for example, my own vision of “human nature” are darker and more cynical than that of my libertarian friend.

Russ Stewart could be the “most dangerous intellectual” in Duluth. I mean this in the way that the Washington Post once called Noam Chomsky the dangerous intellectual alive — dangerous because his ideas, clearly communicated, have the possibility of causing positive change. I mean this as a sincere compliment — I had the same feeling last night as I did when I first read Chomsky in college, a sense of energy in what could be done to make a different world possible.

I also mean it with tongue slightly in cheek, as I know being compared to that “lefty” will get my friend’s feathers ruffled. But there you have it, Russ, you and Noam.