There's no question that absolute tyranny and seeing the despicable sight of power over others is soul crushing. Ask anyone who has gone through any form of extreme authoritarianism, war, or genocide, if they would like to experience those again. Most in their right mind would in all probability say they would not; yet if this question is asked to someone who perhaps had experienced something more mild, some restraint on freedom which aroused their inspirations enough to become more true to who they are, then you might get a different answer.
It's a paradox it seems, that the great creations and creative epochs came about during or as the result of an environment of relative oppression. One can imagine what sort of trouble Rabelais was going through to get him to write such an amusing piece of work like Pantagruel; and the same can be said about ongoing the digital/crypto revolution, coming off one of the most oppressive centuries in human history. There almost seems to be something in nature that is always looking to correct itself, manifesting through unseen actions in which even the most sagacious central planner doesn't expect. Exploiting people also comes with the unexpected consequence of making the exploited seek retribution.
Creativity is certainly brought out fully under freedom; nevertheless, the drive for freedom, that timeless yearning of those who seek to to be left alone and do as they please intensifies when their sovereignty is under attack. Just take a look at the populace living in inner-cities, these places have been systematically deconstructed nearly eliminating any genuine appearance of social order. Somehow, it still exists, and some of most influential artists and thinkers have came out of these milieus presenting themselves as creative outliers.
In any case, imagining an environment of perfect freedom is the past time for utopians. I wonder if these fine folks ever considered if their spark of imagination and standing up for an ideal came from a degree of tyranny stimulating their thoughts.
