The prog-libs, as you call them, will also find that they are mere farm animals headed for the slaughter house. Then will commence the unending scramble to be the biggest, baddest, most powerful farm animal, same as we saw in the Communist Party in the old Soviet Union. On the surface everyone competes to be the most orthodox, and underneath everybody stabs everybody else in the dark. Heaven on earth! Utopia!
My point is that there really isn't an owner, and never was. We're all farm animals in the end.