Ancap is not only profitable, as economists claim. Not only just, as legal scholars insist. Not only virtuous, as ethics specialists believe. Today, I want to raise a toast to the beauty of anarcho-capitalism.

A person is free. A person is responsible for themselves. They have a right to whatever they voluntarily agree upon with others. They are ready to stand up for themselves. If they come to the aid of others, it is only because they wished to do so. If they ask for help, they always intend to reward those who help. If they accuse, they always indicate why it is their business. If they accidentally cause harm to someone, they always inquire about the amount of compensation.

Just imagine the image of the person that arises before you when you read such a description. Is he not wonderful? Does one not feel a desire to be like him? That is how the aesthetics of ancap work, and they should not be underestimated.

A person who positions themselves as an ancap but cannot stand up for themselves, takes offense at things that do not concern them, burdens others with requests, does not pay back debts, is quarrelsome and incapable of negotiation—is ridiculed. They do not correspond to the aesthetic image that arises in everyone who hears about ancap.

Place the image of an ancap next to the image of some honest statist. You will always find some aesthetic flaw. For example, the statist will insist that taxes be squeezed out of a person, even if it buries the business. Or they will insist on an obviously unfair accusation because that is the requirement of the law. Or they will demand tons of paperwork for something that normal people do much more simply, and who would be ready to give a bribe, but the honest statist does not take them. It is immediately apparent that the honest statist is a tragicomic figure, evoking hatred, pity, or laughter, depending on your position relative to them.

Or take a consistent communist. He will wear standard clothing from a public warehouse, eat set lunches in a canteen, put his children in nurseries, and burn himself out at the job where the general assembly sends him—even if he dreams of something completely different. This is a tragic figure; there is even a certain grandeur in his asceticism, but once you imagine him focusedly marching across your own destiny in those very same standard boots from the public warehouse—something about the aesthetics of socialist realism begins to turn one’s stomach.

Not only is the image of the anarcho-capitalist beautiful, but so is the system of interaction under ancap. If you need something, do it yourself, buy it, or borrow it. But if it isn’t lent or sold, do it yourself—or abandon the goal. Compare this with the statist “if you need it, vote for the one who promises to do it for you using the taxes collected from you.” Or with the communist “if you need it, convince the other members of the community that you need it, and then they will vote to allocate it to you.” When a description of interaction involves compulsory social redistribution, it is first and foremost unsightly, if only in its clumsiness.

In principle, an aesthetic of relationship descriptions comparable to the ancap one exists in the model of pure violence. If you need it, do it yourself or take it. If you couldn’t take it, do it yourself or abandon the goal. When ancaps are accused of being proponents of unlimited violence, it is precisely because of this similar aesthetic. Some simply do not understand the difference, but most (I believe) simply consciously manipulate your aesthetic perception to repel you from the image of the ancap.

Of course, there is a difference, and a quite obvious one. What does an ancap do when they want to build a small piece of ancap around themselves? They simply make deals, without asking permission from outsiders and without paying any taxes. According to Hobbes, however, within the framework of the war of all against all, he would more likely go and impose a tribute on someone. That is, he would build a small piece of a state around himself.