"That government is best which governs least." - Henry David Thoreau In this major new defense of libertarianism, Dan Moller argues that critics and supporters alike have neglected the strongest arguments for the theory. It is often assumed that libertarianism depends on thinking that property rights are absolute, or on fetishizing individual liberty. Moller argues that, on the contrary, the foundations of libertarianism lie in widely shared, everyday moral beliefs - particularly in restrictions on shifting our burdens onto others. The core of libertarianism, on this "New England" interpretation, is not an exaggerated sense of our rights against other people, but modesty about what we can demand from them. Moller then connects these philosophical arguments with related work in economics, history, and politics. The result is a wide-ranging discussion in the classical liberal tradition that defies narrow academic specialization. Among the questions Moller addresses are how to think about private property in a service economy, whether libertarians should support reparations for slavery, what the history of capitalism tells us about free markets, and what role political correctness plays in shaping policy debates.

"That government is best which governs least." — Henry David Thoreau In this major new defense of libertarianism, Dan Moller argues that critics and supporters alike have neglected the strongest arguments for the theory. It is often assumed that libertarianism depends on thinking that property rights are absolute, or on fetishizing individual liberty. Moller argues that, on the contrary, the foundations of libertarianism lie in widely shared, everyday moral beliefs — particularly in restrictions on shifting our burdens onto others. The core of libertarianism, on this "New England" interpretation, is not an exaggerated sense of our rights against other people, but modesty about what we can demand from them. Moller then connects these philosophical arguments with related work in economics, history, and politics. The result is a wide-ranging discussion in the classical liberal tradition that defies narrow academic specialization. Among the questions Moller addresses are how to think about private property in a service economy, whether libertarians should support reparations for slavery, what the history of capitalism tells us about free markets, and what role political correctness plays in shaping policy debates.

A tale of passion and obsession from a philosophy professor who teaches himself to play Bach on the piano. Dan Moller grew up listening to heavy metal in the Boston suburbs. But something changed when he dug out his mother's record of The Art of the Fugue, inexplicably wedged between 16 ABBA Hits and Kenny Rogers. Moller became fixated on Bach and his music, but only learned to play it for himself as an adult. In The Way of Bach, Moller draws us into the strange and surprisingly funny world of the composer and his scene. Did you know The Goldberg Variations contain a song about having to eat too much cabbage? Or that Handel nearly died in a duel he fought while conducting an opera? Along the way, Moller takes up such questions as, just what is so special about Bach's music? What can Americans-steeped in pop culture-learn from European craftsmanship? And why do some people see a connection between Bach's music and God? By turns witty and thought-provoking, Moller infuses The Way of Bach with insights into music, culture, and philosophy alike.