Under a state, practically no one ever jams signals from radio stations or telephone towers, because the perpetrator would be found instantly (this is a very simple task) and then forcibly compelled to pay fines, compensation, etc. (it is difficult to deny that this is fair).
Under ancap, however, such actions by this perpetrator would essentially not violate the NAP, would not infringe on someone else’s property, etc., which means, logically, they would not face punishment. But that is surely unfair.
Anonymous question (accompanied by a donation in the amount of 0.00047976 BTC)
As it happens, I have already answered a very similar question in great detail regarding how property rights to radio frequency bands are established under ancap, so first, please read that answer, and we will continue the discussion.
Having analyzed the principle of using radio frequency bands, I stated that in an economic sense, this is a scarce resource, and therefore it can be converted into property. Moreover, as you yourself note, the violation of property rights (unauthorized use of a reserved band) is quite easily recorded. In an ancap environment—that is, a developed market decentralized legal order—such disputes are easily taken to court. The grounds for filing a lawsuit are obvious: communication collisions lead to quite measurable losses, all logs are kept, so the damage can be calculated with very high precision.
Under the dominance of the state, it happens frequently that, for example, security forces jam communications in a certain area, and usually, these are states of a sufficiently authoritarian nature that they wouldn’t even bother with the issue of compensation for damages. Nevertheless, even under a state, there are precedents for the judicial protection of the right to use radio waves. For instance, a year ago, by a court decision in Sudan, the plaintiff’s access to mobile internet was restored, after the military junta had previously disconnected the entire country. Thus, if it is sometimes possible to restore property rights even under conditions of weak protection, then under ancap, where much more attention is paid to such things, similar problems would be extremely rare.
Lawyer Abdelazim Hassan guarantees: the right to use radio waves is respected even in Africa, let alone under ancap
With some delay, I saw an article by Anton Epikhin on the RLN.Today channel, in which he discusses the idea of absolute NAP voiced by Bitarch. These thoughts seemed very interesting to me, as they appear more practical and illustrate that the same goal, if pursued as a tactical one, requires certain methods, whereas if pursued as a strategic one, it sometimes requires the exact opposite.
From the position of prioritizing a radical interpretation of the primacy and absolutization of the NAP, for example, a contract army is clearly better than a conscripted one, and the complete absence of an army is even better than its presence.
However, if the NAP is understood as a project-based direction of movement rather than a religious dogma, it becomes obvious that the existence of a national army ensures collective sovereignty for society. Therefore, it is better that it exists than not, and the presence of mass military conscription, unlike a compact conscript army, distributes power within society by involving broad layers of the population in the defensive function, preventing the repressive apparatus from being concentrated solely in the hands of the government.
Therefore, the optimal defense system for moving toward the NAP would be a ubiquitous, albeit currently compulsory, militia-volunteer force, rather than a purely “professional army,” or even more so, the elimination of the state’s repressive apparatus as such, as this would only guarantee the establishment of someone else’s repressive apparatus that is not subordinate to the local community. Gradually, once they become an accepted norm, the practices of local militias united into a nationwide defense system can become purely voluntary; however, for the NAP, the physical presence of such a militia is more important here than the voluntariness itself.
For a modern person, broadly speaking, it doesn’t matter who their counterparty is, as long as that party performs valid actions. What difference does it make to me whether I buy bitcoins from a person or a bot? I simply create a buy order, and whether a Black man, a gay man, a Rosgvardia officer, a parrot, or a network intelligence responds to it, I don’t care, as long as they send me the bitcoins upon receipt of the rubles.
The same applies to situations where counterparties encounter each other face to face. If one of them asserts their rights, the second analyzes the claim and either recognizes it or doesn’t. What difference does it make who is asking me to give way—a car (autonomous or not), a person, or a dog? If I consider it a reasonable request, I will yield.
The same applies to property rights. If a parrot reacts to an intrusion into its cage with a piercing “Trespassers will be shot!”, I either decide that it understands what it wants to say, or I remain convinced that some ancap simply taught it various funny phrases. When further interaction with the parrot leads me to the conviction that its will, expressed in human language, indeed corresponds to its desires, I will take those desires into account. In the same way, I would have to find a mutual understanding with some cat that does not intend to express itself in human languages, but has needs and is capable of signaling them.
In general, a parrot could fly to the nearest store for food on its own, and it would face no more difficulties with this than a four-year-old child. It likewise cannot open a door, but it can ask adults to do so. And it can likewise hand a crumpled banknote to the seller and ask for a bag of sunflower seeds. For the seller, both the child and the parrot would be legitimate owners of the banknote, which gives them the right to receive the goods.
The same goes for emancipation. A child can declare their desire to live independently, followed by a conversation about whether they properly imagine the consequences and if they are ready for them. Similarly, a parrot can demand not to be held, and if it can convince a human that it can handle an independent life, then it is within its right to fly away. How do we feel about an adult who holds a child against their will? From the moment the child is able to explain this will to outsiders, we view such a thing poorly. Likewise, a parrot that begins to complain about the restriction of its freedom to the first outsider to come within earshot would not add to the society’s sympathy for its owner.
Of course, not everything is so rosy. Until a person becomes accustomed to regularly contacting sentient non-humans, every such non-human will have to explain their rights anew to every person they meet, until everyone in the neighborhood knows that a sentient parrot lives in this park, and entry to the clearing under this tree is by its invitation only.
But which rights of sentient non-humans would face difficulties in recognition? Primarily those that cause danger or serious inconvenience to humans. For instance, people respect the right of ants to have an anthill in a city park, and are even ready to undertake efforts to protect it—but they do not recognize the right of ants to live in wall niches and steal sugar from the table, a non-recognition of which can easily lead to ant genocide on the part of humans.
The question is long, so I will break it into parts.
1) Will there be a single emergency number? Remembering a bunch of three-digit numbers is difficult, but it is also difficult to reach a consensus, given that there will likely be many mobile operators seeking only their own profit, and moreover, they will be limited very little in a stateless society.
Providing a simplified interface to facilitate access to a multitude of complex and diverse services is a high-demand task. On one hand, it is more convenient for users to remember one single most convenient method of communication—provided, of course, that the intermediary works quickly and reliably. On the other hand, it is also convenient for service providers for someone to take on the trouble of finding out all the necessary details from the client and issuing the assignment in a formalized form, without emotions and scandals. In this way, they save on the call center, and therefore it is more profitable for them to pay for their connection to an aggregator.
Most likely, there will also be several aggregators. One might hold, for example, the number 911. A second provides a mobile application in which placing an order is even more convenient than by phone; most of the information is entered from the screen, and only non-formalizable details are communicated by voice. A third, say, sells a bracelet with a single emergency button, or one that reacts automatically to spikes in heart rate and blood pressure. As for some other mechanisms for ordering services, it is difficult for me to even imagine them now; let the market offer and the people try.
2) What happens if the owner of a territory refuses access to rescuers? It is their territory, and entering it without consent would be a direct violation of the NAP.
In general, everything depends on who called the rescuers and why, without ensuring their access to the rescue object, and whether the contract provides for the rescuers’ obligation to ensure this access themselves.
2.1 For example, a person falls ill with a dangerous and severe disease, but their religious, obscurantist relatives recognize only folk healing methods and refuse to let a medical team into the house.
If a person needs medical assistance but third parties are holding them on their territory and preventing them from receiving help, then that person should call not only doctors but also the police. Or simply state the circumstances via the aforementioned single phone number, and then the aggregator will attract specialists to solve the described problem. Blood relation is not an indulgence for a criminal, and the fact that they are in their own home is not either. Holding a person against their will is kidnapping.
2.2 I came to a party with alcohol and drugs to have fun, but at the height of it, I—a thin and weak youth unable to protect myself—had the misfortune of being in one room with a drunk host who began to threaten me with a knife or a gun over some minor quarrel. Or the same thing, but instead of the host, one of the drunk guests is threatening me, and the host himself is passed out and by definition cannot give consent for police officers to enter.
It is the same here. A person has the right to call for help wherever they are, and the costs of ensuring access to the object of assistance can be compensated later. You simply pay the sobered-up host for a new door to replace the one that was broken down.
2.3 Something catches fire on a person’s territory, but they hope too much to extinguish the fire themselves and refuse to let firefighters in, despite the fact that they store flammable and/or explosive substances—meaning that if they do not trust the professionals, then besides their own house, all surrounding buildings belonging to other people will catch fire or blow up.
Since the firefighters have already arrived, it means their work has been paid for; all that remains is to let them do it. Even if their task is to save neighboring houses and the burning object is not their area of responsibility, they will be forced to extinguish the fire there as well to protect the object that is important to them. Why might they be stopped?
First, if it is a high-hazard facility, it is possible that it needs to be extinguished differently; a regular fire crew may not have the necessary tools, while the owner of the facility does. Then it is quite logical for them to politely ask the outside crew to stay away and ensure the surroundings do not catch fire, while a specialized team arrives. I am not technically proficient enough to describe the specifics, but everyone understands firefighting at the level of “do not put out live wiring with water”; there are surely other nuances.
Second, the owner of the burning object wants it to burn down completely to hide something important.
Third, they are overconfident and believe they can extinguish the fire themselves with less collateral damage to the object.
Who makes the decision on whether to intrude on the territory to extinguish the fire? The firefighters, of course. If they decide to intrude without the owner’s consent, the owner can subsequently sue them. If the owner interferes with their intrusion and as a result neighboring houses are damaged, their owners can sue the owner. If the firefighters do not dare to charge in with axes and hooks, then they are clear.
3) How will they deal with schoolchildren, drunk and mentally ill people, or simply ill-wishers making deliberately false calls, or simply uselessly occupying the line, saying stupid things and insulting the operator, if it is not always possible to track them down even now, and blocking numbers is too cruel since even they might need real help from rescuers? Would it be fair to dump all the costs on those who can be identified, or to block the ability to call from other regions?
It is unlikely that under ancap DDOS attacks will be fought any differently than they are now. If there is a possibility to find the attacker using available means—they are found and held accountable. If not, they simply increase the channel capacity and filter out false messages. Naturally, there will be attempts to charge the found culprits for maximally inflated costs, but a court is an adversarial procedure, so the amount of compensation will be determined individually in each specific case. If the court issues an absurdly large fine that incorporates losses from many attacks to which the found culprit was not involved, then this may cause dissatisfaction among people who learn about it. This carries the risk that attacks will only intensify, as the risk of being caught is quite small, so excessive severity is also disadvantageous for the companies suffering from such hooliganism.
A discussion arose in the Libertarian Band patrons’ chat regarding an incident in the USA, which has led to riots accompanied by looting for nearly a week now.
Could an episode of police brutality occur under ancap? Absolutely! The “gatekeeper syndrome” operates under any regime. A petty fraudster pays with a fake check, the store calls security, they detain the thief—and then an excess occurs, and the head of the security team begins to strangle the detainee. The partners are stunned: on one hand, it is a clear abuse of authority; on the other, it is the firm’s honor, and staging a public quarrel is unprofessional, so they simply try to calm the crowd. What happens next? The director, a floor manager, or even just a cashier rushes out of the store and barks, “Stop it!”
This is where the key difference between ancap and the state manifests. It is not just anyone barking, but an official representative of the client. The partners of the security guard who lost his mind immediately pull the boss away and provide first aid to the victim, because the highest authority—the client—has commanded it. The one who pays the money.
Then the routine chores begin: the security company fires the overzealous guard, the thief reimburses the store for the money that caused the scuffle, there may be some maneuvers regarding his health insurance, and finally, there may be a press campaign resulting in damage to the security company’s reputation (and possibly the store’s, although that would be unfair).
But what if the store director rushed out and began to shout enthusiastically, “Give it to him, you scum, crush him!”? That is when a riot could happen. We can, of course, hope that everything will be limited to lawsuits, boycotts, and similar civilized reactions, but a riot or the burning of the store cannot be ruled out in this situation: people react extremely nervously to manifestations of crude thuggery—and there is no reason to assume that people would suddenly change under ancap.
Can riots become mass movements? They can, if we are considering something like a clan society. This can be considered ancap only with a great stretch, but such a society is certainly stateless and, therefore, also worthy of consideration. As we know from the example of Somalia, a specific legal system develops in a clan society where the clan acts as an insurance group and pays for crimes committed by its members. Such a system managed to extinguish the civil war in Somalia; it would handle riots as well.
However, the type of society where problems could truly take on a protracted character is one with a combination of market and clan orders. On one hand, there are several large groups defending the interests of their members, and on the other, there is a large number of individuals who do not belong to any clans and attempt to interact in a mode of open market access to goods and services. Clan members may perceive such loners as members of some foreign clans and bring claims against uninvolved parties within the framework of collective responsibility. Meanwhile, the loners, by inertia, will view the rioters as individuals with their own personal grievances—and be surprised by the absurdity of those claims.
Essentially, this is exactly what is happening in the USA right now. The quarrel occurred between the nominal clans of left-wing activists and police officers, but the leftists consider all business owners to be allies of the police—after all, it was the store that called the police when the incident happened. Blurred boundaries between groups generate numerous misunderstandings, where even those who express sympathy for the rioters are attacked. And the more such unresolved conflicts there are, the harder it is to stop the war.
Therefore, I venture to suggest that under ancap, in various unrest-prone areas, it will be very important to be able to quickly and clearly communicate to everyone who stands behind you. First, people learn to draw boundaries, and only then do they learn not to cross them.
Regarding the conclusions about the unsuitability of blockchain for real estate registration, I partially agree. In its pure form—yes. I have been working on this issue at the University of Bologna for four years. Last year, when I visited Kyiv, I gave a presentation on how to apply blockchain as a real estate registry. So, if you are interested in learning more: theory, protocols, system architecture, regulation. I presented it quite simply in my presentation at the blockchain hub.
Alexey Konashevich
https://youtu.be/F9IYLtXrn78
Thank you, I watched the presentation with great interest. My concept of property rights registration was approached slightly from a different angle and sketched out in much broader strokes. Not being a programmer, I was answering not the question of “how,” but rather the question of “who would handle this without the state, why would they do it, and why would they do it well.”
Your presentation implicitly suggests that the state, as a monopoly territorial jurisdiction in the validation system for the transfer of property rights, is a resource-intensive atavism that does not increase system efficiency but complicates its optimization.
In order to formally describe the functioning system of decentralized legal mechanisms, you build “smart laws” on top of smart contracts—an additional abstraction that validates smart contracts, separating legal ones from illegal ones. Then you raise the question of who creates the smart laws and introduce a new abstraction, e-voting:
But in the world of decentralized ledgers, it doesn’t work that way. E-voting for a law is, essentially, its validation by a group of independent validators. What happens if a certain minority votes against a law in current legal reality? They are forced to obey the law passed by the majority. What happens under decentralized law? The minority has the opportunity to create a fork. Two alternative smart laws emerge, each describing its own set of permissible smart contracts, and different voluntary transactions can take place in different legal fields.
Essentially, these are the same good old contractual jurisdictions that I’ve already talked the audience’s ears off about here.
What will the registration of property rights for assets (land, real estate, enterprises, securities, files(?)) look like in the absence of a monopoly registrar (USRN and others)? Will it be mandatory? And what about bundles of rights under ancap?
Free Reader
Bundles of rights are simply an analytical tool for a deeper understanding of the phenomenon we commonly call ownership. Any relationship between a subject and an object can be described through bundles of rights, regardless of whether it is ancap or socialism. It is simply that under socialism, a certain property, for example, does not grant the right to derive profit from it, while under ancap it does. Also, for instance, rights to a plot of land may imply the right to prohibit boundary violations, or they may be encumbered by an easement requiring the provision of, say, free passage. All these bundles of rights are formed both as a result of concluding direct contracts and simply by virtue of established traditions. Any right is a claim that is tolerated, and if a certain claim is contested, it means that specific right is under threat.
For those who struggle to understand what the previous paragraph is about, I recommend watching Boris Yurovsky’s video, which is titled: Property as a Bundle of Rights.
Now let’s move on to the registration of property rights. A title of ownership for any object that can be uniquely identified is very easily stored in one registry or another. These could be objects such as “a plot of land with such-and-such boundaries” or “a smartphone with such-and-such a serial number” or “a file with such-and-such a checksum.”
How do titles of ownership get into registries? They are entered there by the owners of the property assets to inform everyone of their ownership right, which is primarily necessary to confirm that this right exists. Maintaining a registry requires resources, so those who decide to engage in this will have to think through a monetization scheme for the service. One could charge money for placing information about a property asset in the registry. This risks the registry being incomplete. One could charge for obtaining information from the registry. This risks people obtaining information through cheaper means. One could establish a fund, feed it for some time, and once the registry begins to demonstrate its utility to a wide circle of people, the fund could quite possibly develop the registry through donations.
The alternative to registries is the archaeology of property titles, where, wanting to ensure that the property being purchased actually belongs to the seller, a potential buyer examines the document recording the acquisition of the property, for example, a purchase and sale agreement, then turns to the previous owner, finds out how they acquired the object, and so on until their paranoia is satisfied. In effect, this is the same methodology as blockchain analysis—just without the blockchain. Additionally, if we are talking about a plot of land, for example, one can ask the neighbors whether they truly know the seller as the owner of the plot or if he is an impostor.
But this will be of little help in a situation where the owner of a property asset sells it to several people simultaneously, takes money from each, and then leaves them to figure it out however they want. This is the very “double spend” against which, in the case of bitcoin transactions, it is recommended to wait for several confirmations before considering the transaction complete. Unfortunately, blockchain is not the Internet of Things, as Ivan Ivanitsky aptly formulated in his article on Habr. Information in a registry, whether centralized or distributed, may differ from the conditions of the transaction. To protect against most such fraudulent transactions, a temporary freeze of the funds paid for the acquired object is sufficient. During this time, the problem of multiple claimants to one title of ownership will have time to surface, but the seller will not have had time to secure the money, and it can be returned to the unsuccessful buyers. Such a payment delay can be implemented either through a trusted intermediary or, possibly, through smart contracts (although I am not an expert in this area).
For example, Vasya Pupkin from grade 3 “b”, as a joke, reported a bomb planted in the school, which was later not found during the inspection. Or he beat up a classmate until they ended up in intensive care. Or he stole and then broke someone else’s bicycle. Suppose he was detained. What happens next? If parents, according to libertarianism, are not responsible for their children’s actions, then how will the young hooligan be punished? Suppose neither he nor his parents have the money to compensate for the damage. Will he be put in prison or forced to work and pay for the damages?
The claim that a child possesses self-ownership means that other people recognize their right to dispose of themselves to a greater extent than they could achieve by force. Nevertheless, just as the right of private property over things rarely means the freedom to use them to harm others, a child’s self-ownership does not mean complete freedom to cause harm to those around them.
In addition to the child’s self-ownership, people usually recognize someone’s right of guardianship over them. This right typically includes priority in instilling moral norms, but it is inevitably offset by the right of others to recover damages caused by the child from the guardian. It does not matter who provides the guardianship—parents, the school, just random people contracted for the job—or if all of them distribute these rights among themselves in some way. Either way, the right of guardianship is followed by responsibility for the damage caused to others by the actions of the ward.
Parents take the child for a walk, the child breaks someone else’s toy—the parents are responsible. A grandmother is left with the child—the grandmother is responsible for the broken toy. The child goes to school—the school bears responsibility for the damage they cause to others during school hours. The child goes to school and from there sends an email from a phone reporting a bomb threat—this is the school’s problem, as the child was within its zone of responsibility at that time.
Perhaps the risk of damage from a child’s actions could be insured, similar to how the civil liability of car owners is insured. Now, as we know, car owners are reluctant to insure their liability, which often prompts states to make such contracts mandatory. So I am not sure that in a stateless society, guardianship liability will always be insured. Most likely, schools—especially those in the medium and high price segments—will insure their guardianship liability; firstly, they will have more funds for this, and secondly, it can be assumed that students of expensive schools will, on average, cause damage in smaller amounts (not a fact, I don’t dare to predict exactly).
Another factor that is unlikely to allow guardianship liability insurance to become a panacea for parents is that with every wrongful act committed by the child, the insurance premium will increase; that is, damage from the least socialized children will likely be too expensive to insure.
Further, the imagination of AnCap critics paints all sorts of Dickensian scenarios, with workhouses and the like. I strongly doubt that such things would be in demand in a humane and wealthy society, however, it is obvious that the rights of guardians who find themselves unable to bear responsibility for the actions of their wards will be rejected or, at least, severely restricted. In whose favor? I believe, in favor of charitable organizations whose statutory goal would be precisely the socialization of such children. As an option—in favor of wealthier citizens who agree to cover the debts from lawsuits against the child’s previous guardians, after which they themselves assume further responsibility for this child. I do not dare predict which model will be more in demand in the market, but both are ethically permissible.
Socialization of difficult children two centuries ago—the dark past of AnCap
Yesterday, after I finished editing the article on the inefficiency of violence, I sat down to watch the movie “Black Hawk Down,” which I came across while following links related to the article. The film focuses on the episode mentioned in the article: how the US was forced to leave Somalia after the failure of what they considered a peacekeeping operation—losing nearly two dozen special forces operators in a single day and killing around a thousand locals in a dense urban environment, without much regard for who was a combatant and who was not.
In 2001, when Black Hawk Down was released, I was more interested in things like The Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter, which came out around the same time, but I’m glad I finally got to it; the movie is excellent. However, I want to talk not about the plot in general or the visual quality, but about literally two moments that were key for me personally, and to which all other narrative serves, in my view, merely as illustration.
The first moment is around the eighteenth minute. The Rangers are discussing a fact from a thin brochure they were given titled “All About Somalia”: if one local kills another, his clan must pay the clan of the deceased a hundred camels. To this, one of the soldiers notes that he couldn’t even afford one camel, and the locals must all be in debt now. And now, let’s listen to a lecture by Vladimir Zolotorev:
I am providing a link exactly to the moment where he explains how the civil war in Somalia was effectively stopped by a court decision: the combatants were quieted by their own clans because the relatives of the killers were tired of paying giant sums for other people’s debts.
Thus, the film brilliantly shows how expensive and pointlessly cruel the UN intervention was, and how little importance the self-proclaimed peacekeepers attached to the mechanism that actually stopped the war.
The second important moment is closer to the end of the movie, around 1:45. A Somali man is talking to a captured American pilot and explains: you took our hostages, we took you. The pilot replies: my government will not negotiate. OK, the Somali replies, then let’s negotiate between you and me, soldier to soldier. To this, the American replies that he has no decision-making power. The Somali huffs in response: you, apparently, are granted the right to kill, but not to negotiate, while for us, war is just another form of negotiation. Therefore, you have nothing to gain here.
Many thanks to Ridley Scott, who didn’t film a propaganda piece, but truly managed to show the difference between a dull and meaningless state military machine and an anarchic society. I especially recommend the film to those who repeatedly ask the same questions about how “Ancapistan” would defend itself from a state invasion.
Of course, Somalia is not Ancapistan—things are doing well with anarchy there, but significantly worse with capitalism, especially at the time shown in the movie. Nevertheless, even a pre-capitalist stateless society managed to teach a good lesson to the strongest superpower on the planet. States risk a lot when they try to impose their rules on anarchic orders, and if these orders are backed by a truly strong economy, then the outcome of a direct military confrontation between a state and Ancapistan can be considered predetermined.
My recent article about the idea of bypassing house arrest (“self-isolation”) for healthy people while observing all possible safety measures sparked a huge wave of criticism. I’ll be honest — I have never received so much hate directed at me. Nor so much support. Subscribers were split roughly in half: about 60% on my side and 40% against, but they proved to be extremely uncompromising in their positions! In reality, this exposed a very important problem that I had been planning to write about for a long time. The disputes regarding the permissibility of quarantine measures provided a good opportunity for this.
We are talking about the assessment of any risky behavior that does not directly cause harm to anyone, but has some probability of unintentionally causing harm to third parties. This is far from just forced “self-isolation” against the spread of coronavirus (do you not notice the oxymoron here?!), but also driving a car at high speed, under the influence of alcohol and drugs, the use of certain psychotropic substances, the construction of certain facilities (gas stations, explosives warehouses, chemical and nuclear waste sites) near residential buildings, placing a level 4 biosafety laboratory in an apartment of a residential building, launching pyrotechnics near houses, and much more. If a stationary bandit imposes a ban on any such action, he creates a victimless crime.
Any person calling themselves a libertarian, even a minarchist, cannot support punishment for a victimless crime; otherwise, they have no right to call themselves a libertarian. Some say that, for example, complying with a ban by a stationary bandit against leaving one’s home is normal, as I could potentially be infectious without even knowing it, and consequently, I initiate aggressive violence against the people around me. But if we follow such logic, then even an openly gay person, walking down the street holding hands with their partner, initiates violence against religious conservatives who might have a heart attack with some probability. This can lead to absurdity, which is why libertarian philosophy clearly answers this question: no victim — no crime!
Nevertheless, the problem of risky behavior does not disappear. For some people, the values of freedom, progress, and economic development are more important, while for others, safety and risk minimization are paramount. There are scientific studies proving that the predisposition toward certain values is partially determined by genetics. People from these two categories will never be able to reach an agreement. This is, in principle, an insoluble problem.
All that remains is to seek ways of peaceful separation:
1) Freedom of association and private discrimination;
2) For more conservative people, territorial communities/jurisdictions (TCJs) will likely be suitable, while for those more tolerant of risk and diversity — extraterritorial contractual jurisdictions (ECJs).
In any case, I recommend moving from the habitual authoritarian two-step style of thinking “Crime — Punishment” to a three-step “Action – Counteraction – Agreements for the future.” Only when it becomes natural for you to think in terms of the equality of subjects will you be able to start feeling out your own approach to the problem of balancing freedom and security.
