My team and I at Libertarian Band have released a new video, this time — about ancap. Back in winter, I wanted to write an overview text about how I see the relationship between the main currents of libertarianism (which differs from the traditional division into minarchism and ancap), but I never got around to it. Instead, this was achieved in a series of five videos, which finally concludes today.
The “Libertarianism for Grandmas” series will continue; in the second part of the cycle, we will focus on explaining individual key concepts for libertarianism. For now, as they say, subscribe, leave likes, and send bitcoins if you like what we’re doing. It’ll only get cooler from here!
And for those who wish to deepen their knowledge of ancap without waiting for new videos — you are most welcome to read our translation of The Machinery of Freedom by David Friedman, which is also still ongoing, but a significant part of the book has already been translated.
Last time, I enjoyed responding not with one large text to a single question, but with short answers to a series of questions. A number of such topics that do not require detailed answers have accumulated in the queue.
Ancap-chi, it seems to me that it is better to promote the term “polystate” rather than “panarchy,” because the latter sounds too much like “anarchy,” and ordinary folks, as I think you know, are very triggered by that word.
It’s a matter of habit. Legend has it that the first libertarians in Russia were often mistaken for vegetarians. Minarchists, naturally, are mistakenly read by many as monarchists. As for the possibility of confusing panarchists with anarchists, at least that is not offensive, because panarchy is one of the paths to anarchy. It seems to me that terms like polystate make sense to be used as auxiliary for now. For example, “I am a panarchist, meaning I advocate for a polystate, or more accurately, for multiple governments within one country” (as Alexey Shustov correctly notes in one of his interviews, in the Russian language, the state is a subject, not a system, which creates inconvenience in political discussions, and it is better to use “country,” “government,” or “regime” depending on the context instead of the overly vague “state”).
I saw an ad for agorists here; they have an article about obtaining an anonymous debit card by forging appearance and a passport. Apparently, there is only administrative liability and a fine of up to 80 thousand for this, but perhaps you know better ways to remain anonymous when making purchases in fiat?
This refers to this post, where at the end I referred to an article from the Cryptoagora channel. By the way, in the post, describing crypto-ATMs, I wrote that they work only in one direction: buying bitcoins with fiat. Later, in Georgia, I verified that the reverse is also possible; there, I actually had to sell bitcoins. I just want to note that for greater anonymity, when approaching a crypto-ATM, you should wear dark glasses, pull something with a wide brim over your head, raise your collar—in short, hide your face as much as possible to shield yourself from cameras. Cameras can be located both in the crypto-ATM itself and around it. Also, of course, when you go to a crypto-ATM, it makes sense to take a phone with a “left” SIM card. All these paranoid measures are intended to complicate operational-investigative actions if you suddenly become their target for some reason.
Is it true that under anarcho-capitalism, intellectual property is not provided for?
Maxim
Any person has the right to monetize any of their intangible assets by any non-violent means. They have the right to use violence only in the case when they are attempted to be deprived of this asset entirely, but not when some information they possess is copied. Even if someone copies the private key to their bitcoin wallet, that is not yet theft. Theft is the use of the key to move bitcoins out of that wallet.
I just cannot understand who will act as the guarantor of compliance with the rules? What happens if some hypothetical Ramzan Akhmatovich in the role of a night watchman decides not just to guard the peace, but to start explaining a bit how people should live?
Noob
Any gatekeeper is inclined to increase their significance at the expense of those they are supposed to serve, i.e., the residents of the guarded facility. The only argument that can bring them to reason is the threat of monetary sanctions, and ultimately, dismissal. For the threat of dismissal to be real, there must be Ivan Petrovich, Ravshan Jamshutovich, Jet Li, and Sigurd Olafson standing behind the gates waiting to be hired. That is exactly why panarchism looks like a more sane idea than minarchism in terms of the possibilities of limiting power.
About a year ago, I wrote a post “On Participating in Elections”, where I gave my interpretation of why ancaps need it at all. Recently, a snide comment appeared under the post, suggesting that people will come up with anything just to convince voters to give up on boycotting. I replied to the comment, but perhaps these considerations should be put into a separate post.
Election boycotting is a tactic that leads to victory in only one case: if voters, by not showing up at polling stations, form their own self-governing bodies without the state’s participation and voluntarily use them, ignoring those created in state-organized elections. In other words, one should boycott not only the elections, but the state as such.
In principle, my argument that going to a polling station to vote or observe is simply practice can be flipped in favor of boycotting elections—that it is simply practice in boycotting the state. I agree, but it is one thing to practice a plank, and quite another to practice simply lying on the couch; nothing will come of that except bedsores. A boycott is an active refusal to cooperate, so if you want, you can practice specifically this skill; it is also very useful. In this case, you will need not just to skip the elections, but to convince as many people as possible to skip them, so that the preaching of non-participation in this shit is heard from everywhere. And then, not limiting yourself to elections, begin to boycott legislation on mass rallies, the tax code, the law on personal data, and many other harmful state regulations. Do not inform the state about your actions, because it’s a boycott—there is no state for you. Treat state employees as ordinary people, and if they use violence, as ordinary gangsters.
In short, a boycott is a very difficult and responsible path, and boycotting elections is only the beginning. If you are not ready for it yet, or consider it hopeless, then it is better to practice the skills of democratic decision-making. Again, a year ago, when I suggested you engage in this, the exercise was simple. Now, the proposal is to master something more complex—not just to simulate filling out a ballot, dropping it in the box, and counting votes, but additionally, to do this in a consolidated manner, within the framework of smart voting. If anyone hasn’t registered to participate in this flashmob yet—I highly recommend it, because ancap is not about aggressive individualism where you don’t give a damn about anything except your immediate desires. Ancap is about living in a society without coercion, based on voluntary cooperation. Smart voting is the opposition of that very voluntary cooperation to the administrative resource, so it’s high time to show whose kung fu is stronger.
Who will you bet on: the balding old man, or the guy whose hand Svetov himself shook?
To start, I recommend reading the question itself and my answer to it. I primarily covered the transition between panarchy and ancap, while in the “Anti-state” channel you can read another answer from Ved Neuman, which mainly concerns the transition from statism to panarchy.
Civil society in Russia has been trying to rock the boat and change the government for something more human-like for quite some time now, in order to stop the country’s slide into an authoritarian hole. Alexei Navalny has long and firmly been the frontman of the Russian protest.
The core of Navalny’s agenda is the exploitation of the public demand for justice. Lawlessness, corruption, and the looting of the state budget—covering all these topics ensured Navalny’s well-deserved popularity. Nationalists tried to speak out against the infringement of the rights of the Russian-speaking population, but this aspect of justice proved not to be particularly in demand among the masses. Old-regime democrats peddled the theme of Russian foreign policy aggression, the tightening of civil liberties, and the escalation of political repression—but they only earned the label of “demshiza” (democratic crazies). Libertarians protested against increased regulation and higher taxes—they were completely ignored. Everything flowed in its own way until Svetov arrived.
In the eyes of the average citizen, Navalny’s agenda boiled down to the idea that once he comes to power, he will imprison all the crooks and thieves, thereby restoring justice. Svetov increased the level of populism even further, adding: those we don’t imprison, we will fire without severance pay and strip of their political rights. Such a demand for revenge, due to the use of the sophisticated word “Lustration,” did not resonate with people immediately, but aggressive advertising did its job. The Libertarian Party received a huge influx of fresh blood and rightfully took its place in the protest pantheon to the right of Navalny himself.
An interesting situation emerged where the theme of freedom practically vanished from the public discourse of the LPR, replaced by that very theme of justice, since this rhetoric brings more political points. The main task of the LPR now, judging by the rhetoric, is to overthrow the regime together with its allies; after that, they can distance themselves from Navalny and other fellow travelers and begin advocating for their own specific agenda of reforms. To what extent the Libertarian Party will preserve libertarian values within itself by that time is not yet very clear; however, it is becoming obvious that libertarianism is much broader than what the party does (and what is generally appropriate for a political party to do).
Previously, the activities of the LPR consisted not so much of politics as of education; now the situation has changed, and politics has come to the forefront. This is wonderful, as the division of labor usually contributes to greater efficiency of that very labor. At the same time, of course, it should be expected that those who are not interested in political activity at all, and who were members specifically for the sake of education, or who viewed it as a hobby club, will leave the party. This is logical, since many ancaps fundamentally believe that engaging in politics is pointless, and it would be far more appropriate, for example, to promote a libertarian lifestyle.
I believe that minarchists and panarchists may also receive some indirect profit from the spread of ancap ideas among the apolitical masses, and ancaps are unlikely to lose from having a conditionally friendly political representation—after all, they have nothing against using the state’s weak points to weaken it. Therefore, I urge you not to interfere with libertarians getting into politics, not to quarrel with LPR members, but also not to believe that this party is the only beacon of hope, and that any libertarian activity must be somehow coordinated with this political organization.
However, entering politics under libertarian slogans outside of the LPR is already a serious claim that the libertarian market niche is large and capable of accommodating more than one libertarian party. Perhaps this is true, but here you will have to be ready for fierce competition, which may prove counterproductive, as it diverts resources away from competing with pro-government organizations.
Libertarians in Navalny’s right hand, and coffee in his left. That is how we shall conquer!
The institute of superherosim already exists, albeit without any special effects. Take William Browder, for instance: offended that the RF killed his employee, he put on some cool gear and went to the lobbyists, ultimately punishing those who violated the NAP with the Magnitsky list. Mikhail Khodorkovsky put on cool gear and began funding the investigation into the murder of his employees in the CAR, and is also creating his own Shevchenko list. Alexander Litreev put on cool gear, flies around at night and deanonymizes shameful cops along with the Rosgvardiya officers who joined them.
Given how poorly the state functions in investigating certain incidents, we cannot guarantee that superheroes are not already operating in the field of direct physical punishment of NAP violators. For example, recently some owner of an award firearm for merits in the annexation of Crimea carelessly scratched himself with it. Let’s laugh at the safety regulation violator; let the superhero remain off-camera. Secret submarines, of course, also sink without any participation from superheroes.
Naturally, once the main enemy of any superhero—the state—is defeated, he will be able to turn his attention to the struggle against smaller bandits. It will be easier for him; he may even be able to afford to unobtrusively appear on camera in his cool gear from time to time, because the fear of retribution is a crucial element of the deterrence doctrine.
The title looks very strange, doesn’t it? One would think that the idea of national sovereignty originates from the Peace of Westphalia, when after the Thirty Years’ War it was decided that each ruler is sovereign in their own territory and manages their own internal affairs, and neighbors should have nothing to do with it. It was the Peace of Westphalia that gave birth to the modern type of state with its territorial monopoly.
However, by the nineteenth century, the idea of the ruler’s sovereignty evolved into the idea of the nation’s sovereignty, as the power of rulers was no longer associated with divine right and was forced to justify itself through the will of the people. For the sake of the nation’s greatness, it became convenient to wage wars far bloodier than some unfortunate Thirty Years’ War. God fought on the side of the larger battalions; nation-states diligently expanded, acquired colonies—and the world, in general, was moving toward being divided among a handful of countries, which were then to clash in a final and decisive battle, where a global hegemon would be determined and a single world power would be formed. At least, if the free market promoted the formation of monopolies, that is exactly what would have happened. But instead, the First World War led to the collapse of four continental empires, and after the Second World War, colonies began to break away from all the other great powers.
The UN has already officially enshrined the equal status of all countries, and the principle of territorial sovereignty was officially supplemented by the directly contradictory principle of a nation’s right to self-determination. In essence, this cheapened the Westphalian principles, and since then, the number of countries in the world has continued to increase. Also, the good old traditions of invasions for the sake of establishing progressive orders have returned to the world stage, replacing the religious wars that are not particularly relevant today.
There are still far more ethnicities in the world than states, so countries may continue to break apart along ethnic lines for quite some time. At the same time, the incentive for people to separate is not ethnic differences as such, but primarily differences in cultures. But there are even more cultural communities than ethnicities; they arise and mutate constantly.
The ease of movement of people, goods, money, and information leads to the fact that any territorial borders are becoming increasingly permeable, and their very existence is becoming less meaningful.
It is not yet clear how soon and as a result of what chain of events the notion of the right of cultures to self-determination will become mainstream, as previously happened with nations. Purely logically, there are no grounds by which a certain group of people, chosen by a more or less arbitrary criterion, has a right to sovereignty, while another group of people or even a single person does not.
This question is discussed in quite some detail in Rothbard’s “The Ethics of Liberty”; I will allow myself a small quote from it:
A more serious question can be asked: does the adherent of the laissez-faire doctrine recognize the right of a region of a country to secede from the country? Is it lawful for West Ruritania to secede from Ruritania? If not, why? And if so, then what could be the logical conclusion of the division of countries? Could not a small district secede, then a city and part of that city, then a residential block, and finally, a specific individual? Recognizing any right to secede in the absence of its logical conclusion, limiting the right to individual secession—which logically limits anarchism—will lead to individuals being able to secede from the state and hire their own protective agencies, and the state will collapse.
Thus, a clear trajectory for the development of social relations emerges: from the sovereignty of personalities over subjects, through the sovereignty of increasingly smaller groups, to the sovereignty of each individual personality, with the complete eradication of the very category of subjecthood. And if once only a few hundred people in the entire world could claim that “I am the state,” then in the foreseeable future, every person will be able to say this of themselves with full right.
I think I am cosmopolitan enough not to fixate on the RF: any state is unpleasant in any of its active manifestations. As I have already written, it seems to me that building an ancap society in a country where there is already quite little state and already exists a tradition of respect for private property and entrepreneurial initiative is significantly easier than where none of this exists. Building an ancap society as an immigrant is a more natural pursuit: for immigrants, it is natural to view the state as something incomprehensible and hostile, something to be avoided as much as possible. So, of course, I would like to move to some relatively free country and act there.
As a counterexample to such an approach, people usually cite modern Western feminists who fight for trivialities—in the opinion of many—while being completely unperturbed by the violation of women’s rights in, say, Arab countries. Yes, I would also prefer to dismantle Russia rather than Turkmenistan, and Georgia rather than Russia. An ancap society might grow from the ruins of a conditional Venezuela, but it would have to grow out of such shit that going there at that time would require one to be either a martyr or a god-given entrepreneur. Quite different is a carefully dismantled state in an already decent society. No aesthetics of the “wild nineties” for you; everything is free and with dignity.
In Russia now, among the protesters, the reverence for the law takes on a completely religious character. Yes, we know the laws are shit, but for the sake of saving our souls, we will follow them to the last letter; and if the authorities themselves violate their own laws, we will sue them in their own court, lose in three instances, and win in the ECHR. I admire the optimism and consistency of these guys. I myself am too impatient to mow the lawn of democracy for two hundred years only to end up with a social-democratic society, and then wonder what to do with such a deeply rooted state. Reverence for the law can be both good and bad. Better to have reverence for property rights and intolerance towards violations of such rights, even if it means violating current laws.
For me, the indicator of the success of civil society is not the size of rallies, not the number of opposition deputies in parliaments, and not the regular change of heads of state—but a reduction of the state budget by at least ten percent a year while people’s wealth grows at even more significant rates. In this regard, Georgia seems quite promising to me: the sprouts of freedom have taken root well here, the state is quite weak, and there is not much interference in earning money under the table.
Tomorrow I am gradually heading toward Russia, but I will definitely return here, and quite possibly for a long time.
Detailed question from Zanudny (not backed by any donations, but it’s always better to give a bore what they want without dragging it out too much)
In the event of abandoning the territorial principle, how will relations between two sovereign entities not linked by any ECU/FPCU, etc., be regulated?
Let’s imagine a statistically realistic situation under conditions of competition among sovereign jurisdictions for territory. Those that establish mandatory laws for citizens (but not for all people in general, including stateless persons, as existing states do for the “human and citizen”). Since they are contractual, not all residents will enter into the proposed agreements. If sovereign jurisdictions are extraterritorial, then opportunists cannot be driven away. Who can convict them and under what laws, if they do not create their own LJ? What will protect citizens from the arbitrariness of “stateless persons,” including violence, if they are not separated territorially and there are no zones of responsibility? What will protect the opportunists themselves from violence by individual “citizens”?
Please note, I am not considering non-recognition or conflict between jurisdictions here. If there are no common rules of the game and no higher authority, looking at history, this seems inevitable. Nor is this a question about the dictate of a local majority, although in the absence of claims to territory, claims to benefits will remain (otherwise there would be no private property). This will not necessarily trigger the “market,” because even entering into trade relations is a contract, and we are talking about sovereign jurisdictions that may autarkize for the sake of security or create a monopoly. The question is: what will guarantee the freedoms of those who would simply like to leave (or even stay) in a given territory without recognizing the legal system of their neighbors, in the event of a conflict, if they have no “protection” behind them?
Answer from Ancap-chan
The questions are getting longer. On one hand, this shows that people are absorbing the previous material. On the other—posts are stopping fitting into the Telegram channel format. Oh well, to hell with the format, I’m used to it.
So, in a certain territory, there are several contractual jurisdictions, as well as a number of individuals who couldn’t care less about all these jurisdictions and do not want to join any of them. This is quite logical, because what is a jurisdiction for? To resolve conflicts with other people using some kind of mediator. But the vast majority of conflicts are perfectly settled without any mediator! How many of you have had to sue someone even once in your life? At the same time, people constantly find themselves in the zone of influence of someone else’s rules. If these rules are known to them in advance and they agree with them, the rules are usually obeyed. If the rules are unknown in advance, people behave as they are used to, and then they are told that there is a different order here, and they adjust their behavior accordingly. If the rules are known and people disagree with them, they try to bypass the rules, sabotage them directly, or obey them but with visible reluctance.
As I have already written, panarchy is an unstable transitional state from territorial monopoly jurisdictions to pure ancap. You are touching upon the problem of how people for whom ancap has already arrived should behave toward those who still have panarchy in their heads. And that’s exactly how they should behave: according to ancap. As long as everything is settled amicably, live as good neighbors. When it stops being settled, organize a movement in your support, with or without the participation of hired professionals.
The most important thing for the unstable situation of panarchy to shift toward ancap, rather than toward the good old territorial monopolists, is the absence of demand for uniform rules, a single order, or a higher decision-making body. On one side of the scale, we have the maximization of convenience—everyone wants rules to be adapted to their ideas of what is right. On the other side will be the desire to save mental effort. It is easier to remember uniform rules than to keep different options in mind.
Thus, the simpler the set of regulations, the more likely it is to become nearly universal. The more complex it is, the greater the chance it will remain purely niche. In a simplified explanation, all libertarian theory boils down to one or two principles. Indeed, based on the bare principles of self-ownership and non-aggression, one can interact superficially with almost anyone, but for various highly specialized legal issues, more substantial codes, longer than a single page, will be required. Fortunately, they will not be needed by everyone and not very often.
So let’s drink to the right scale continuing to outweigh!
Yes, a panarchist structure of power will most likely be freer than a centralized one. But the ideas of panarchy resemble a tool for state or social organization more. There is nothing in them about traditional libertarian self-ownership, and nothing is clear even regarding the freedom to exit a jurisdiction. Most academic articles acknowledge the need for an additional jurisdiction that ensures the legal capacity of people and their freedom from the oppression of panarchist jurisdictions. Panarchism as a tool could well be used by a quasi-statist regime: transforming the power of oligarchs into actual serfdom jurisdictions where corporate slaves have no right to exit. This results in the classic cyberpunk scenario that sci-fi writers warned about. For real freedom, we still need classic libertarian works: the concept of self-ownership, the NAP, and their political implementation, whether it be ancap or minarchism. And only then, if people need FOCJs, the market will decide. In short, there is no guarantee that panarchy leads to libertarianism, and I see no libertarian value in the idea of FOCJs itself.
One condition is fundamental for the correct functioning of FOCJs: the guarantee of political and economic competition. This means the openness and freedom of markets, specified in the “four freedoms”—the free movement of people, goods, services, and capital—all of which must be protected. At the same time, the political markets of FOCJs must be competitive, meaning that human rights and basic democratic rights must be guaranteed. This includes the right of people to use direct democracy as a tool. Like states, FOCJs will by nature strive to undermine any competition, following their commercial interests by attempting to build cartels or monopolies. This requires the existence of a “competition oversight board” responsible for ensuring compliance with the rules. This body will also regulate the limits of fees for entry contributions and exit penalties.
In other words, this article explicitly acknowledges that what they call “jurisdictions” must exist within a single legal regime. What the authors call “jurisdictions” looks less like jurisdictions in a political-legal sense and more like providers of certain services; their jurisdictional nature lies only in the fact that they obtain the right to “collect taxes.” A libertarian minimal state does not solve the problems the authors propose handing over to FOCJs, but rather the problems that allow FOCJs to exist and function.
Restricting trade is locally beneficial, which is why historically, people who gained power over a jurisdiction began introducing various fees, penalties, fines, and so on. One could say this was only possible because there was no exit from jurisdictions (and there wasn’t). The thing is, every jurisdiction will be interested in restricting exit, which is exactly what is discussed in the area of the FOCJ article excerpt I quoted above. That is why the authors themselves introduce some minarchist or ancap—it doesn’t matter which—body that stands above and before the FOCJ. And this is exactly what libertarians propose to implement. As for the FOCJs—let the free market decide.
Answer from Ancap-chan
You correctly noted the main shortcomings of the idea of functional overlapping competing jurisdictions proposed by Eichenberger and Frey: it is a certain optimization of existing government functionality without eliminating the key flaws of the state and without guarantees that a management system reformed in this way will not revert over time to a level of oppression as high as it is now. The internal protection against abuse in the FOCJ system is not much higher than in modern states.
The advantage of the FOCJ system is not that it offers the best solution, but that it offers a solution implementable within the specific framework of the European Union. In conditions where, due to flaws inherent in this political Frankenstein, one of the largest European economies is already separating from it, a political force that raises FOCJs on its banners has some chance of success. Moreover, FOCJs can be implemented locally first, and only then can the experience be extended to wider territories.
FOCJ is not panarchy. “Competing,” although it starts with the same letter as “contractual,” is not necessarily contractual, meaning there is no talk of voluntary entry into one jurisdiction or another. As a control mechanism, the authors propose good old representative democracy, which forms the corresponding bodies, as well as direct democracy, allowing local decisions to be made at the level of a particular FOCJ. I have written about the flaws of democracy, so I will not repeat myself.
You suggest the option: “first pure ancap, and then let the market decide if FOCJs are needed.” This brings us closer to Nozick’s speculations: let’s imagine we have pure ancap, and now I will demonstrate to you how it will over time transform into an ultra-minimal state without contradicting libertarian principles. Similarly, based on certain assumptions about human nature and what is just, one could probably derive that pure ancap will inevitably mutate over time into panarchy, i.e., a system of FOCJs.
Either way, for such reasoning to become relevant, one must first achieve pure ancap. Meanwhile, both minarchism and panarchy are ways of reducing state oppression that may or may not lead to pure ancap, and putting the cart before the horse here makes sense only as a thought experiment to determine how stable pure ancap is.
The remaining question is whether the FOCJ system can turn into panarchy over time, and whether that would then turn into ancap. If yes, then it makes sense to support it. If not, then it is a dead end, and FOCJ is as much an obstacle for a true ancap as a regular big state.
Here, as with any forecasts, I step onto the shaky ground of conjecture. My conjecture is that it is easier to bring sparkling cleanliness where it isn’t already heavily soiled, than where the initial cleaning requires bringing the waters of Alpheus and Peneus to the Augean stables. Switzerland, Singapore, North Korea, and Somalia are all far from ancap. For pure ancap to appear there, one must, first, abolish the state, and, second, ensure non-state institutions for the protection of private property. Of course, in Somalia it is easier to abolish the state, and in Switzerland it is easier to ensure the protection of private property, so choosing which of these countries is easier to establish ancap in may prove difficult. But comparing North Korea and Singapore, it is quite obvious that building ancap is easier in Singapore: the state is slightly weaker there, and property is much better protected. Likewise, it is sufficiently obvious that building ancap is easier in a Europe built on the basis of FOCJs than in the current European Union.
So I would wish the esteemed authors of the article on FOCJs a swift adoption of their ideas by European politicians. Even if FOCJ is not libertarianism, with FOCJ, libertarianism has a better chance.
Let Reiner and Bruno dig the canal, and we will come through with the broom afterward.
