One of the annoying things about believing in free will and individual responsibility is the difficulty of finding somebody to blame your problems on.  And when you do find somebody, it's remarkable how often his picture turns up on your driver's license.

P. J. O’Rourke (1947–2022) was an American political satirist whose essays repeatedly mocked the human urge to evade responsibility by blaming government, society, or other convenient villains. This quip belongs to his characteristic late–20th-century libertarian-leaning humor: he praises the ideal of free will and personal responsibility while immediately pointing out how psychologically uncomfortable it can be. The punch line—your own face on your driver’s license—turns a political-philosophical claim into a mundane, modern image of identity, suggesting that the most persistent “culprit” behind one’s troubles is often oneself.

The joke hinges on a tension: believing in free will and individual responsibility is morally bracing, but it removes the consolations of scapegoating. O’Rourke implies that many people prefer explanations that locate fault elsewhere because self-blame is painful and demands change. The driver’s-license image literalizes self-recognition: when you finally locate someone to blame, it’s “remarkable” how often it’s you. Beneath the humor is a critique of victim narratives and a defense of agency—tempered by the admission that agency is inconvenient. The line also satirizes the way political arguments about responsibility often mask ordinary personal failings.