Life & Wisdom Quote by L. Neil Smith

There is a delicious double move in L. Neil Smith calling the novelist a man with a “higher soapbox.” The phrase is self-mocking on its face: a soapbox is already a flimsy pedestal, the prop of street-corner ranters and DIY prophets. By insisting his is “higher,” Smith both acknowledges the stigma of public moralizing and claims the advantage anyway. That’s the writer’s oldest trick: disarm the reader with a wink, then use the cleared space to make a serious bid for authority.

The real target is in the last clause. “Merchants of fear” is not a neutral description; it’s a moral indictment framed as economics. Fear is being sold, not stumbled into. Someone profits from panic, someone markets insecurity as a product, someone benefits when citizens feel small and compliant. Smith doesn’t specify the wares, which is strategic. The phrase can flex to fit demagogues, sensational media, bureaucrats, or any institution that turns anxiety into leverage.

“Talking back” matters, too. It’s an everyday verb, a little insolent, rooted in childhood discipline: the forbidden act of refusing a superior’s narrative. Smith is describing fiction as a counter-programming tool, a way to puncture atmospheres that thrive on unquestioned dread. The subtext is libertarian-leaning and culturally American: the novelist as an unlicensed rival to official messaging, with enough visibility to heckle power and enough imagination to offer alternate realities. He’s claiming not neutrality, but standing - and he’s daring you to resent it.