31 October 2008
Being as it’s Halloween and all, I thought today might be a good time
for a visit from The Anarchy Boogeyman.
I’ll be taking the bold and ridiculous step of defining anarchism
as properly understood and thereby infuriating generations of
anarchists, almost none of whom, as far as I know, would agree with me.
That said… while everybody knows that anarchism is a bit of an extreme,
“out there†political philosophy, I think that most people
actually underestimate just how out there it is, and make the
mistake of seeing it as a merely quantitatively different edge-case that
more-or-less plays the same game on the same playing field as other political
philosophies. Then they judge it according to that standard. This leads to
misunderstandings.
I’ll try to explain. Just about every other political philosophy can
be best defined by reference to an ideal, utopian state, and by a process for
approximating it in the real world. These philosophies can then be judged by
the desirability of this ideal state, the likelihood that we might be able to
get close to that state, and what the cost of doing do would be.
So, for instance, a proponent of monarchism might define it as a system that
features one single authority figure where the buck stops, who has
more-or-less absolute authority (perhaps bounded by tradition or common
decency), a well-defined line of succession that keeps trouble at bay, and
what have you. Real-world monarchies, then, can be judged against this
standard: does the monarch have ultimate authority, or is this authority
diluted or countered by other institutions? is there a well-defined line of
succession or are there various pretenders to the throne with their own teams
of intriguers? and so on.
Democracy, constitutional republicanism, communism, democratic socialism,
fascism… whatever you can think of — they can all be evaluated
in this way. But anarchism — as properly understood mind you
— cannot. And because its opponents, and frequently its proponents, do
not understand this, they tend to misunderstand anarchism and distort it and
make it ridiculous.
Anarchism is not a utopian end state and a method for getting there. It is
not something of the sort that is appropriately judged by searching for
existing or possible quasi-anarchies and comparing them to an ideal
“anarchy.â€
It would be as if in the debate over atheism the atheists kept being asked
why we should worship their non-existent god rather than Allah or Jehovah.
Or if in the debate over abolitionism, the abolitionists kept being asked to
show how we would be able to tell the masters from the slaves once slavery
was abolished. I imagine also the frustration felt by mathematicians who
come up against students who have somehow gotten it stuck in their heads that
∞ is just the name of one really big integer and can be treated like
one for all intents and purposes. It’s the same kind of missing the
point. There’s something qualitatively different between
anarchism and the host of non-anarchist (utopianist) political philosophies
that you have to come to grips with before you can compare them competently.
Several years back, on a mailing list, I was venting some hostility towards
abusive cops who enforced vice laws. Someone took umbrage and responded,
“What have you really got a problem with, the cops or the laws?
Because, last I checked, cops don’t make laws.†I responded:
I think cops are responsible for their own behavior, and can’t blame a
bunch of politicians for “making†them do evil things
(cf. Nuremburg
trials). They have no excuse for not knowing that their business involves
terrorizing people who are innocent of anything that could properly be
called a crime. And they have no excuse for going along with it.
A spirited back-and-forth ensued that really demonstrates the point I’m
trying to make today. I tried desperately to engage my debater but he was
completely unable to hear what I was saying because he kept wanting to force
me into a utopianist political philosophy paradigm, and had tight blinders on
that wouldn’t allow him consider any arguments outside of that paradigm
that did not conform to it.
He took government for granted, as so many people do, but could not even
begin to wrap his mind around the idea of not doing so. In
response, he wrote:
I love how you keep mixing up police abuse with enforcing a law passed
by congress. You try to convey the impression, somehow, that I’m in
favor of police abuse. Rather odd. I’m just saying the police are
supposed to uphold anything that gets passed as a law. It’s
unreasonable to expect them not to.
I shot back:
You try to convey the impression, somehow,
that I’m in favor of police abuse
But you are — as long as that police abuse is legally
authorized. And even when it isn’t, you seem far too eager to look
the other way or make excuses. Why not just say “it’s wrong to
break into somebody’s home, drag them away in chains, and lock them in
a dungeon just because they were in possession of some illegal drug. If you
do that, you’re doing something rotten. If you help people do that,
you’re helping people do something rotten.†No. You’ve
got to get all lawyery and say, “well, maybe it’s wrong, but
it’s the law, and we have to make exceptions for the law, and besides
it’d be wrong if you or I did it, but it’s a police officer, and
they have the authority and besides it’s only their job and they
don’t make the rules.†Bullshit. There’s nothing you
can’t justify that way, and there were
175,000,000
tombstones engraved with that feeble argument in the last hundred years.
Well, this went on for quite a bit in the classic internet flame-war style.
Then my debate partner said, “you’ve got one thing left to do
before I can respect your point of view… give me a coherent suggestion
for a solution.â€
And this is how things got so weirdly frustrating. Because what he meant by
“a solution†was a quasi-utopian political ideal end-point of the
type I was describing earlier. So what he really was saying, whether he knew
it or not, was that in order for him to respect my point of view I was going
to have to abandon my point of view, because a quasi-utopian political ideal
end-point was exactly not what I was arguing for.
But I tried to come up with something that would fit the bill:
Well, it's a rough draft, but it goes a little like this:
I want you, M— H—, to realize that it’s a cop-out to loan
out your conscience to your employer, your neighbor, the majority, the
Constitution, or the editorial page of Newsweek — and to understand
that you’re faced with the awesome responsibility of testing and
developing your conscience against the demands of real life, and then
living according to the standards that you reveal. I want you to know that
you are your own best and most qualified judge. If you ignore your own
conscience you’re committing a particularly dangerous form of suicide
— killing off your soul, and leaving behind the sort of dangerous
robot who swerves from cradle to grave building gulags and genetically
engineering more evil forms of smallpox.
(partially stolen from Gina
Lunori’s Direct Action which itself is
a liberally paraphrased update of a similarly titled essay by
Voltarine deCleyre or some such, but you didn’t ask)
Part two goes like this:
Now I want you to expect the same from your friends, your co-workers, and
even the police. Don’t let anyone who is doing something you know to
be wrong get away with thinking that they don’t have to take
responsibility for their actions. That means no “I’m only
following what the law says,†no “I’m going to cede to
the will of the majority,†no “I wouldn’t do it, except
it’s my job,†no “if I didn’t do it, someone else
would,†none of that bullshit.
To the extent that I had a “suggestion for a solution†to debate
with M— H—, this was it. Not a “solution†in terms
of a utopian endpoint for society at large, but just a reasonable code of
conduct to apply to both of us — an egalitarian ethics (that is, an
ethics that applies to everyone equally, without dividing people into castes
or classes with varying qualities of ethical expectations and
responsibilities).
That was the closest thing I had to “a solution†but to M—
H— it was as good as nothing at all. “I’m not going to
read this right now,†he wrote, “because it starts with ‘I
want you, M— H—’ which means you’ve missed the
point.†He concluded that my solution was really “just a big
fat personal attack†and told me more explicitly what he was looking
for:
Assume that whatever vector you need (protests, bills, laws, whatever) to
get the end state you desire works. What end state do you desire? What
system of laws,
etc., do you
think is the appropriate way to address narcotics, drugs,
etc.?
I tried to disabuse him of his misunderstanding:
I think I got your point but you missed mine. I don’t want
an end system of laws,
etc.
to address narcotics, drugs,
etc.
What I do want is for people to take responsibility for themselves and their
actions and to demand the same of others, and to that end, I’m
starting with you — trying to convince you to take on that challenge.
The “end result†I have in mind isn’t a system that
I’ll design and that other people will adhere to, but a society in
which everyone realizes that to the extent they have will, they must assume
responsibility for how they exercise it.
As for how this intersects with the particular case of narcotics, it means
that people must take personal responsibility for their drug use and that
people who intervene in the lives of drug users (cops, for instance) must
take personal responsibility for the way in which they do so. Drug users
can’t say “but dude, I was high†to pretend that they
don’t own the consequences of their actions, and cops can’t say
“I’m only following the law†when they cage a pothead.
I’ve just got to convince them of that, which should only take another
hundred billion emails… at this rate, only several weeks.
…I see it’s basically just a big fat personal attack.…
No, no! Read it again! It’s not meant as an attack at all.
It’s a challenge, the same challenge I give to myself and test myself
against and sometimes fall short at. You asked me what my solution is, and
my solution is to try to hold myself to this standard, and to try to
convince other people to do likewise.
But he kept pushing for me to pull back the curtain and reveal my unworkable
utopia in which I play dictator and cackle over my hoard and concubines
— there must be one back there somewhere. “In your
society,†he asked, already implying a lot with that second-person
possessive, “what happens if someone doesn’t accept
responsibility? Who gets to decide if they’ve accepted enough
responsibility? Who is responsible for dealing with those who no longer
exercise sufficient responsibility?â€
All fair questions, if taken naïvely literally, though really
there’s an unspoken scaffolding of assumptions behind them: most
offensively the assumption that in “my†society there must be
some well-defined caste of people with authority and responsibility and some
other caste without and some caste who gets to divide people up.
He followed this by prematurely attacking the utopian paradise he hoped I was
going to try to construct: “I, too, would love to flip a switch and
have everyone suddenly realize their duty to their fellow man, the amount of
space their fellow men need, the need for personal responsibility and ethics,
and, for that matter, their own personal potential. I would also like a
million dollars in my primary checking account and a large harem…
Systems that are designed around reasonable expectations instead of
unrealistic ideals can roll with the punches a whole lot better. You
can’t get rid of greed…â€
All the while, ironically, he’s the one who can’t imagine
a society that isn’t set up in pursuit of a utopian ideal.
At first I took the bait, though trying to avoid the hook, and talked about
how we ought to deal with other people not taking responsibility for their
actions, and how we go about judging when other people step over lines and we
have to intervene. But I had a hard time accepting the framework of his
question without it subtly forcing my answer into one that described a
“system†of some sort, which really wasn’t what I had in
mind at all. Finally, I wrote:
How each of us decides to act based on the decision that we make, though, is
our own individual responsibility — not the dictate of a pre-written
law or the output from a political establishment.
In my vision, there’s no set of authority-emblazoned citizens who have
the ability to carry out justice on everyone’s behalf, and
there’s no algorithm or game used to determine a result — I,
you, and everyone else must decide what to do and must accept the
consequences of our decisions.
What if we don’t? Well, it turns out we have no choice. We
are responsible for our own actions, even if we pretend to loan out
our responsibility to an institution or person. But in a practical sense,
the only penalties are that A) we’re lying to ourselves, and B)
we’re relinquishing control over our lives to some external force,
thereby restricting our freedom, thereby inflicting our own punishment.
All systems have an error rate. What are your detection, correction,
and prevention methods?
What system? The error rate is just human imperfection. This imperfection
is only magnified when someone tries to codify human laws, or
create human institutions to do our reasoning for us.
If your reasoning is out-of-whack and it’s causing you to do something
rotten while thinking you’re doing something good, I can try to
convince you otherwise. I can even try to put you in a cage if you’re
not listening to reason and I think that what you’re doing is rotten
enough that I want to spend my time that way, but not out of some abstract
law or because I’ve been appointed CageMaster, but simply because I,
taking responsibility for my own actions, am caging you.
Is this perfect? Hell no. If you’re stronger than me, maybe
it’ll be me who ends up in the cage. And there’s no guarantee
that the strongest one of us is the most sensible.
Fatal flaw? Not really. I never claimed that I was creating a perfect
utopia, only showing a better way.
As our society is now, the stronger imprison the weaker, but are
able to do so in vast numbers and without any person taking responsibility
for being an imprisoner.
I, too, would love to flip a switch…
You asked for my program. It starts with you. It works one person at a
time. The nice part is that it doesn’t require universal
participation, majority participation, or even a critical mass. Each person
who takes responsibility for themselves benefits themselves and those around
them. Each incremental step is a step forward.
He thought I “totally dodged the question†of what happens in my
as properly understood anarchism when somebody doesn’t accept
responsibility. Which I did, I guess, but mostly because the question masked
an assertion that I didn’t want to implicitly accept.
So I tried to meet the question, and the assumptions behind it, more directly:
In your society, what happens if someone
doesn’t accept responsibility?
I guess it’s just too broad a question. Doesn’t accept
responsibility for what? What do you mean by “what happens�
Do you mean, “what am I going to do about it?†or “what
are you going to do about it?†or “what bad tidings must thereby
befall the irresponsible person?â€
It sounds like you’re asking me to come up with a commandment like
“In Utopia, if you fail to accept responsibility for your actions, you
will be set adrift on a raft and exiled from civilized society†or an
admission like “In Utopia, there are no police, so if someone does
something rotten because they refuse to take responsibility for their
actions or because they’ve got a distorted idea of what their
responsibility demands of them, there’s nothing anyone can do about
it.â€
But neither of those statements, nor anything like them, describe what
I’m envisioning. I could go into more detail if someone doesn’t
shove a sock in my keyboard soon, but a shortcut is that I’m
not trying to envision a utopia in which everybody behaves
harmoniously like in some seventh day adventist pamphlet illustration. I
just have in mind a way for people to regain freedom and dignity and to
extinguish the greedy and deadly inferno of the state. Not utopia, but not
a bad consolation prize.
Alas, none of this made any headway. He still insisted that because I
had never specified some final state that he could judge as good or bad,
practical or impractical, there was nothing else in my argument that he could
grapple with. He concluded that I just hadn’t developed my ideas to
the state where they were worth arguing with, and suggested that maybe I
assist my poor imagination by trying to write some science fiction about
“my society†in order to better flesh out the details.
It really did seem to have all the talking-past-each-other quality of a
“but this one goes to
eleven†argument.
Ask an anarchist (as properly understood) to describe what an
anarchist society looks like, and the utopianist expects to hear a description
of some wholly-other, alien society, nothing like our own, that can be
dismissed as an unlikely fantasy. But the anarchist instead responds with
something much like
“you’re
soaking in it†— that is, anarchy is not some future utopia
that the anarchist is striving for, but it is the way of interpreting and
understanding the society the anarchist already lives in.
Oh, there is no Great Thunder God Oog, and his name isn’t some holy
word that mustn’t be pronounced by man on pain of damnation, but just
another syllable. Oh, there is no Santa Claus, it must be someone
else’s generosity I have to be thankful for and I don’t have to
worry about how the raindeer keep warm the rest of the year. Oh, there is no
State, and that guy over there in the suit and tie ordering people around in
its name is just a prick with lots of sycophants, not anyone I owe any
respect to.
That’s all there is to it. Anarchy is what you see when you take off
the blinders. It’s not utopian. In fact, it’s the only
non-utopian political philosophy. And being that historically, proponents
of anarchism have often been promoting utopian programs only quantitatively
different from those of their socialist or liberal counterparts, and seeing
as the word “anarchism†itself has such unfortunate and
undeserved connotations, I think that those people (or is it “that
personâ€) who adhere to anarchism as properly understood might
well adopt the name “topianists†to make this distinction more
clear.