California’s Road to Serfdom
Property rights are an essential liberty. Violating them is the very definition of tyranny.
Marc Wheat & Mitchell Bahnsen, essay, Law & Liberty
Several years ago, California brothers Arron and Arthur Benedetti inherited 267 acres of farmland from their father, a turkey farmer who spent his life working that land. They were not asking for a subsidy, tax break, or any government benefit. They simply wanted to build a home on property they had lawfully inherited. The government of Marin County, however, took it upon itself to say that the brothers could have their permit, but only if they signed a covenant permanently committing the land to commercial agricultural use, farming it themselves, or contracting it out in perpetuity.
The result is a trap with three exits, none of them acceptable: sell the land, farm it commercially, or sit on it and do nothing. Even though the brothers have a strong incentive to take good care of the land they own, building a home and living on what their father built is, apparently, not among the options Marin County is prepared to allow. Now, with a petition before the Supreme Court, the Benedetti brothers, two plumbers who have resided in California their entire lives, are asking the nation’s highest court to affirm a freedom the rest of the Western world has long held dear. Their case is not merely about a building permit or a zoning dispute, but whether the government may use its regulatory leverage to conscript private citizens into occupations of its choosing, and whether property rights in America retain any real meaning at all.
Friedrich Hayek warned in The Road to Serfdom that the path to tyranny is rarely dramatic. It does not typically announce itself with jackboots and seizures, but arrives quietly, incrementally, through the accumulated weight of regulatory conditions that strip individuals of the freedom to direct their own lives and labor. It may start as small as a permit denial, and before long the citizen finds himself not the master of his property but its captive, working it as the state commands, or not at all. Marin County, California, has offered a case study in exactly this dynamic, and the Supreme Court now can say, clearly and finally, that this is not how American property law works.
When Americans want to modify their property, they must first ask permission from the state. That requirement may sound innocuous, but it gives local government the power to withhold the permit until the owner surrenders something the government wants but cannot legally demand outright. Marin County pulled that lever here, in direct defiance of controlling precedent.
In Nollan v. California Coastal Commission (1987), the Supreme Court struck down a California agency’s demand that homeowners grant public beach access as the price of a building permit. The condition, the Court held, lacked any “essential nexus” to a legitimate government interest, making it not a regulation at all, but what the Court bluntly called “an out-and-out plan of extortion.”
Building on this, Dolan v. City of Tigard (1994) held that even where a nexus exists, the burden imposed on the property owner must be “roughly proportional” to the government’s actual interest. Marin County’s demand satisfies neither test. There is no meaningful correlation between Arthur Benedetti’s desire to build a home and the county’s interest in preserving agricultural land, especially since agricultural land already accounts for over half of the US land base. Even worse, permanently conscripting a family’s property into commercial farming is wildly disproportionate to any legitimate regulatory goal. As the Court made clear in Koontz v. St. Johns River Water Management District (2013), this framework applies regardless of how the government structures its demand. It is a foundational truth in constitutional law that the state cannot do indirectly what it is forbidden to do directly. The county may argue it is simply protecting open space and agriculture, both legitimate interests, but that is precisely the problem. If those interests are legitimate, the county has legitimate tools, by purchasing the land, negotiating a voluntary conservation easement, or deploying its taxing power. What it cannot do is coerce a private citizen into a particular occupation by holding his building permit hostage.
To understand what Marin County is doing to the Benedetti brothers, it helps to understand what it is undoing. The instinct to protect private property is not a modern political preference. It is a thread woven through the entire fabric of Western civilization, from the earliest moral codes to the constitutional settlements that shaped American law. Russell Kirk, in his classic The Roots of American Order, traced the moral inheritance of America through four cities: Jerusalem, Athens, Rome, and London. Each contributed something essential to the Western understanding of property, and together they form a tradition that Marin County’s permit condition casually discards.
From Jerusalem came the foundational moral prohibition against violating private property. The Ten Commandments, Kirk wrote, were intended as “liberating rules that enable a people to diminish the tyranny of sin.” Prominent among them is the command, “Thou shalt not steal.” The prohibition is brief, but its implications are vast, with the commandment presupposing private ownership as a moral fact, and its violation as a moral wrong. This means property, stewardship, and justice were woven together from the beginning of Western moral order.
Athens refined the intuition about property into philosophy. Aristotle, laboring for years to define justice, concluded that people will be equals and partners in a community precisely when people still have their own things, “for when everyone has a distinct interest, men will not complain of one another and they will make progress, because everyone will be attending to his own business.” Ownership, for Aristotle, was not merely an economic arrangement but a precondition for the kind of exchange and reciprocity that makes justice possible. When the state disrupts that arrangement, forcing an owner to use his property as the government prefers, it substitutes bureaucratic preference for the merit-based distribution that justice requires. “All agree,” Aristotle wrote, “that what is just in distributions ought to accord with a certain merit.” Marin County’s permit condition holds no merit at all.
Roman statesman Cicero maintained that “each one should retain possession of that which has fallen to his lot,” in opposition to the redistribution of property. Nearly two millennia later, Justice James Wilson of the early Supreme Court would later paraphrase Cicero in describing a just state as one formed by free persons united “to enjoy peaceably what is their own” in Chisholm v. Georgia (1793).
From London came the philosophical architecture that most directly shaped the American founding. John Locke argued in the Second Treatise that “every man has a property in his own person: this no body has any right to but himself,” and that “the labour of his body, and the work of his hands, we may say, are properly his.” Property, on Locke’s account, is not a gift of the state. It precedes the state, arising from the natural relationship between a person and the fruits of his labor. Edmund Burke, writing as the French Revolution unfolded in 1790, was equally direct, maintaining that people “have a right to the fruits of their industry; and to the means of making their industry fruitful,” and “whatever each man can separately do without trespassing on others he has a right to do for himself.”
The turkey farmer who worked 267 acres of Marin County land had a claim on that land that no county permit condition can extinguish, and his sons’ claim is no less legitimate. Across every city in Kirk’s moral geography, the conclusion is the same. Forced occupation, or the compulsion to use one’s property as the state commands, is not regulation, but simply tyranny by another name.
The Founders did not merely inherit this tradition but secured into the heart of early American governance. James Madison wrote in 1792 that “that alone is just a government, which impartially secures to every man, whatever is his own.” He was equally clear about what an unjust government looks like, primarily one that uses “arbitrary restrictions, exemptions, and monopolies” to “deny to part of its citizens that free use of their faculties, and free choice of their occupations, which not only constitute their property in the general sense of the word; but are the means of acquiring property strictly so called.” This was a consensus shared widely among the Founders, including Hamilton, Jefferson, and others. Property rights were, as William Michael Treanor points out, understood by “the key writers who set the intellectual framework of our Constitution—John Locke, David Hume, William Blackstone, Adam Smith, and James Madison” as “a bulwark of the individual against the arbitrary power of the state.”
What Marin County is attempting, in the end, is to make the Benedettis serfs on their own land, forced by regulatory fiat to work on the soil as the government prefers, or else forfeit what their father built. The Supreme Court has the tools to stop it, including earlier judicial precedent, the original meaning of the Fourteenth Amendment, and a tradition of Western jurisprudence stretching back through London, Rome, Athens, and Jerusalem.
Hayek understood that the road to serfdom is paved not with dramatic usurpations but with small, incremental surrenders of economic freedom, each one justified by some legitimate public interest, each one eroding a little further the citizen’s ability to direct his own life and labor. A permit condition in Marin County may seem like a small thing, but the principle at stake is far from small—it concerns the foundations of our civilization itself. The Supreme Court should remind California and other governments tempted by the same logic that property rights are not a second-class freedom.
Marc Wheat is the general counsel for Advancing American Freedom, the advocacy group founded by former Vice President Mike Pence.
Mitchell G. Bahnsen is a policy & legal intern at Advancing American Freedom and a student of politics, philosophy, and economics at Westmont College. He concurrently serves as a research assistant at the California Policy Center, and his commentary on constitutional principles, technology, and culture has been featured widely across conservative and classical liberal publications.
