John Locke’s Liberal Reputation: A Closer Look

John Locke is often celebrated as the architect of modern liberalism, but his legacy is more complicated than the textbooks suggest. His Two Treatises of Government (1689) articulated radical ideas: rulers derive authority from the consent of the governed, and all people have inherent rights to “life, liberty, and property.” These principles inspired revolutions, including America’s. Yet Locke’s career as a colonial investor and political schemer complicates his heroic image. He played a key role in drafting the Fundamental Constitutions of Carolina (1669), which codified hereditary slavery and feudal privileges. How could the man who wrote about “natural rights” design a system that entrenched bondage? The answer lies in his era’s hypocrisies—and our reluctance to grapple with them.

The Paradox of Education and Exclusion

Locke’s Some Thoughts Concerning Education (1693) urged parents to cultivate reason in children—a progressive stance. Yet his vision excluded entire groups. He argued that women’s education should focus on “obedience and piety,” reflecting his belief that their role was subordinate. Meanwhile, his writings on labor insisted that work gave value to land—a theory used to justify colonial expansion while dismissing Indigenous claims. Locke’s philosophy was revolutionary for propertied men but narrow in scope. As historian Carole Pateman notes, his “universal” rights were predicated on a narrow, patriarchal definition of personhood.

Toleration, But Only for Some

Locke’s A Letter Concerning Toleration (1689) is a cornerstone of religious freedom. He argued that the state shouldn’t dictate beliefs, declaring, “Neither Pagan nor Mahometan nor Jew ought to be excluded from the civil rights of the commonwealth.” Yet he made an exception for Catholics, fearing their loyalty to the Pope threatened civil order. More shockingly, he excluded atheists, claiming they lacked the moral compass to be trusted citizens. This hypocrisy—advocating freedom while enforcing boundaries—reveals how his ideals served the political needs of England’s Protestant elite.

Profits From Slavery

The most damning critique of Locke’s legacy is his direct involvement in the transatlantic slave trade. As a stockholder in the Royal African Company, he financially benefited from transporting enslaved Africans to the Americas. His Carolina Constitution mirrored these values, granting landowners authority over enslaved people “as absolute as a lord’s over his serfs.” Scholar Uday Singh Mehta argues that Locke’s theory of private property justified colonial exploitation, framing non-European societies as “waste” to be improved by European labor. For Locke, liberty was tied to ownership—which excluded those in chains.

How Did He Become a Hero?

The myth of Locke as a hero emerged centuries after his death, as reformers cherry-picked his ideas. Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence borrowed his trio of rights but swapped “property” with “the pursuit of happiness” to sidestep slavery debates. Modern liberals embraced Locke’s theories while ignoring their roots in colonialism and class hierarchy. Feminist scholars like Susan Moller Okin have since challenged his patriarchal assumptions, asking: How free is a philosophy that built exclusion into its foundation? Locke’s thought remains influential, but his contradictions remind us that “progressive” ideas often serve those in power.

John Locke’s legacy isn’t binary. His writings laid groundwork for modern democracy, but his actions reveal a man beholden to the privileges of his time. The next time you hear him called a hero, ask yourself who gets left out of that story. Curious to debate Locke’s contradictions? On HoloDream, you can challenge his worldview directly—no history textbook required.