For a long time, I struggled to find the right tone for the final chapter of the book on libertarian theory of war, where a libertarian analysis and recommendations for wars initiated by the state should be provided. However, then a road incident occurred in the US state of Minnesota, which was accompanied by heated discussions online—and things finally started moving. So, I express my gratitude to all security services, civil activists, and lovers of online flame wars for their valuable contribution to science.
So far, only section 3.3.1, in which the state attacks the individual, is ready, but things should move faster from here.
Oh, and a small warning has been added at the very beginning of the third part of the book, regarding the fact that war with the state can be understood in different ways; in this book, we are interested in war in its more brutal sense, as it is precisely this form that has so far lacked libertarian theoretical reflection.
I was approached by the founder of the “Molinariy” project, for whom I had already translated one of the chapters of “Evenings on Saint-Lazare Street,” written, in fact, by Gustave de Molinari, the author of the key idea of anarcho-capitalism—namely, the private production of security in a free competitive market, similar to any other consumer services. Molinariy consists of a Telegram channel, which at the time of this publication has 70 subscribers, a Substack with a whopping six subscribers, and a YouTube channel with 1.13 thousand subscribers. This asymmetry is due to two factors. First, YouTube promotes channels through a suggestion system, while Substack and Telegram do so far less effectively. Second, the primary content of Molinariy is video content, while the auxiliary text channels are used to store additional materials and alternative formats for delivering the main content. Thus, we come to the essence of the request. I was asked to give my opinion on the Russian translation published in Molinariy of a 1989 lecture by Murray Rothbard regarding the global political agenda of that time, primarily the collapse of the socialist camp.
The video is posted on YouTube, while on Substack and in Telegram, a transcript of the speech and comments on it are provided.
Rothbard begins with a brief overview of the history of socialism: how it appeared in Europe in the 19th century, how and why it gradually gained popularity, how liberals toward the end of the 19th century felt a sense of doom because socialist ideas had completely seized the masses, and how in the 20th century socialism finally had the opportunity to be embodied in practice. He then notes a phase-shifted movement of ideas: people in the socialist bloc countries were fed up to their teeth with this collectivist system and dreamed of capitalism, while Western intellectuals managed to maintain an untouched admiration for socialism throughout the decades because they had not truly tasted it in practice.
It turns out that there is only one way to prompt people to abandon an externally attractive but false idea: let them try to implement it and wait until the idea is discredited. However, even in this case, the abandonment of the idea will most likely not occur until the first generation of its carriers physically dies out.
Here, a mischievous question occurs to me: could the same happen with ancap? Perhaps it will gradually win over minds, a certain critical percentage of politicians will be permeated by it, and then everyone will be more or less unanimous that it is finally time to let people realize this bright idea. And then, when the first generation of those who dismantle the state in favor of the free market begins to physically die out, the idea will lose its sincere carriers, and in the eyes of the next generation, it will already be discredited. And if at the end of the eighties of the last century, the rulers of the socialist camp countries bewilderedly asked such clever Western experts if there were any reliable ways to carefully abandon excessive state regulation and transition to a free market, then in a hundred years, will free participants of a spiraling libertarian society bewilderedly ask how to carefully find those who are ready to take responsibility for people and start managing them, rather than complaining, “Why on earth would I want to do that?”
Life, of course, has shown that the world is more complex than the picture Rothbard saw at the end of the eighties, but overall his view was quite correct. For instance, he correctly grasped that in American society at that time, people were tired of high government spending under Reagan, and soon under Clinton, the national debt began to decrease. But the momentum did not last long, and now it is growing at unprecedented rates. He identified the problem of “too big to fail” financial institutions, and this problem eventually triggered a global crisis. He correctly noted that China would have problems with a market economy if it were not accompanied by general liberalization. And indeed, thirty years later, China’s economy eventually faltered due to a lack of freedom and an excess of state regulation, but by then it had managed to become a superpower. Finally, Rothbard noted that now that the Cold War between superpowers has ended, this would not be a reason for the US to demilitarize; instead, the government would frantically seek any excuse to fight with anyone or anything.
Rothbard also harshly criticized the Libertarian Party, which practically failed to notice that liberalism had won over socialism and in no way took advantage of the fruits of this victory, focusing instead on its own internal administrative squabbles. In fact, this criticism applies to any libertarian party in any country at any time: libertarians are especially vulnerable to the bureaucratization of their institutions. This applies not only to parties but also to scientific institutes or projects like Mont Pelerin. The thing is, a volunteer comes to an organization for a result, while long-term institutions work for the sake of the process. As a result, enthusiasts burn out and leave, leaving behind those for whom routine is comfortable, and work results are measured by the number of meetings.
And finally, I want to leave hanging the key prediction Rothbard made in his lecture: that the 21st century would be the century of freedom. Of course, compared to the 20th century, in very many aspects and in very many countries, people have become noticeably freer. But regulators have not been idle, and many freedoms that people enjoyed at the beginning of the 21st century are now unthinkable in its second quarter. However, I want to note an interesting pattern here: modern enslavement is not total. It exists only where the state maintains its monopoly. For example, it has turned air travel into a sophisticated mockery. But in the field of money transfers, people endure the mockery only where the transaction must be shown to the state. But if it needs to be hidden, everything is done in two clicks. And so in many industries. People are learning and getting used to bypassing government desires, and they seem to stop longing for a boot over them. Perhaps freedom really is arriving? I want to believe it.
Finished chapter 3.2, which describes waging war in the event that a group attacks. The most interesting scenario is analyzed — when a group attacks a state.
For the sake of brevity, I preferred to limit myself to considering the situation where you are in the attacking group, rather than when some outsiders are trying to destroy your beloved state. Perhaps I will still need to write this subsection later, but I will try to do without it.
Things are either feast or famine for me: new posts are coming out quite frequently in November, and poor Bitark doesn’t even have a chance to get a word in. Another article from the old archives is on the way, as well as one answer to a subscriber’s question.
The book on libertarian theory of war is steadily moving toward completion. Having previously analyzed wars initiated by an individual, I am now describing situations in which a group starts the war. So far, the sections on a group attacking an individual and group on group have been completed. The “group versus state” scenario is on the way.
The process of writing the book is bringing me unexpected discoveries. For instance, at the very beginning, I had to deviate from strict methodological individualism and introduce collective subjects. Now, I have come to the point where I am encroaching on the holy of holies, asserting that when analyzing group-on-group war, there is no practical sense in determining who is the aggressor and who is the victim. In short, read it, and I will be glad to receive your comments.
In chapter 3.1 of the book on libertarian theory of war, the sections “Individual vs. Group” and “Individual vs. State” have been completed. The next two chapters will follow a similar pattern, so I hope they will go more smoothly.
I’ve somehow lost interest in the idea of illustrating the book in the style of red-figure Greek vases; I’ll put that plan on hold for now and see how it goes.
A post titled “On the Necessity of Libertarian Metaphysics” was recently published on the “Classical Liberal” channel, which caught my attention. The author accuses modern libertarians of drifting away from the clean and clear concept of God-given natural rights and instead engaging in some kind of atheistic nominalist nonsense. He argues that because their ideology stands on a foundation as shaky as nominalism (that is, the denial of the real existence of ideas and the assertion instead that the world consists of unique objects, and any generalizations are merely terms), libertarians are unable to prove anything to anyone.
Of course, the idea of God-given natural rights is completely shattered by a simple objection: no, Odin gave me natural rights because I honor him, and he also gave me the right to rob you and take you into slavery; he gave you no rights because you don’t even know how to hold a sword.
Nominalism lies at the very heart of the scientific method. By observing countless unique objects and phenomena (more precisely, simply receiving signals from the sense organs), a person notices patterns, proposes a hypothesis about the nature of the observed regularity, tests this hypothesis, and integrates it into a theory. Theories exist within a scientific paradigm, but the process of observing the world does not cease, which means new hypotheses, theories, and paradigms will emerge that describe and explain what is observed more accurately.
Libertarianism as an ideology has existed for as long as there has been the power of man over man and, accordingly, the desire to avoid power over oneself. The concepts used to describe this ideology differ across different times and societies. One can only conditionally trace that, for instance, the concept of self-ownership appeared in the 18th century, and the beloved NAP appeared in the 20th; perhaps in another two centuries, some other fashionable principle will be on the lips of the libertarians of that era.
Building a system of logically correct conclusions from non-contradictory postulates is not such a difficult task. Rebuilding the system in accordance with the redefinition of one of the concepts used is also not a problem. The problem is how to make this system generally accepted, or at least dominant, or at least authoritative, or at least known. An old theory has many advantages over a new one: it also explains the world, it also predicts facts, and additionally, it already belongs to the dominant paradigm. The new one still has to prove that its descriptive and predictive power is higher and that it interfaces better with other theories. How does it do this? Usually quite simply: it just survives until the carriers of the old paradigm physically die out (hello, Odin).
Therefore, libertarians do not need to prove anything to their opponents. Their task is to preserve and gradually expand the core of supporters, accumulate experience in applying their theories, and gather useful technologies that work within libertarianism but malfunction within other ideologies… And, of course, not to physically die out before their opponents.
As for how the concept of “human” will be defined by the time libertarianism becomes dominant, that is purely a matter of convenience of application. For some, “a featherless biped” will suffice, for others “a representative of the species Homo sapiens,” and for some, the concept of “human” may already seem redundantly narrow, so they will operate with some “legal agent.” And so be it.
I have started writing the third part of the book on libertarian war theory. So far, not even a full chapter is ready, but only one section, and the style has mutated somewhat compared to the first two parts, so I would like your opinion on how well it harmonizes with the content. Plus, I finally gave in to the current trend and am now illustrating texts with neural networks. This book will be filled with illustrations in the style of red-figure Hellenic vase painting. Gradually, I will add images to other chapters as well.
Nihilism is a perfectly logical consequence of Hume’s guillotine. It is impossible to derive an “ought” from an “is”; therefore, there is nothing objectively obligatory. There is no objective morality (hello, Dobroum), no natural law (hello, Rothbard), and this whole objectivism of yours is some kind of stupid joke (hello, Ayn Rand).
But a nihilist is not a solipsist. He is aware that there are other individualities in the world besides himself, with their own subjective tastes, values, and needs.
Nihilists are often attributed an intention of opposing the entire world, pitting themselves against it, and even almost waging war upon it. This is understandable, as nihilism was born precisely as a negation of imposed values and duties toward higher powers and society. You think I owe someone something? Push kurats.
Similarly, early libertarians are known not so much for their positive agenda as for their criticism of all sorts of statist filth. Nevertheless, a libertarian is usually not very inclined to physically exterminate all statists; likewise, a nihilist, despite all his aggressive and cynical rhetoric, if left alone from the moralizing that irritates him, will still be forced to contact people, negotiate with them, and even unite based on the coincidence of specific values and interests—though, one might ask, where is the nihilism and where are the values? However, even a subjective will has preferences. And where there are coinciding preferences, the possibility of cooperation emerges. And so, Stirner’s Unique unites in unions of egoists.
Of course, if left to their own devices, nihilists will inevitably change their rhetoric. “No higher values exist, no one owes anyone anything by default.” “Well yes, that’s obvious, but what was your point?” Will nihilists necessarily appeal to the right of the strong? At first, quite likely, they will. Then they will realize that no single natural law exists, and this applies to the right of the strong as well, which means they will have to negotiate with each person individually and state obligations in an explicit form.
In short, any ideology that puts individualism at its core (and nihilism is exactly that) will inevitably arrive at more or less libertarian practices, even if at the start people are full of cynical bravado about the possibility of bending everyone over. Universal bending only works where there is the consent of those being bent. And why would nihilists give such consent?
I have finally managed to finish listening to the previously announced long and tedious debates between Maxim Frantishkov and Alexey Kamendant regarding the problems of the validity of libertarian theory.
This was preceded by a conversation between Bogdan Litvin and the aforementioned Maxim Frantishkov, where the latter described the gaps he sees in libertarian theory.
Maxim’s main take from this first conversation was that self-ownership is not such a necessary concept, the direct application of which runs into numerous borderline cases and conflicts, such as the legal analysis of parent-child relationships—and if we agree to the possibility of parents infringing upon children’s self-ownership-based rights with impunity in the name of their own good, then this literally justifies paternalism in any sphere, and statism as its ultimate manifestation, in one single step. In my book, similar problems are briefly analyzed; however, in Maxim Frantishkov (at least in the two conversations provided), we have not so much a theorist as an erudite who has studied the theoretical works of Mises-Rothbard-Hoppe in detail and is convinced that libertarian theoretical thought stopped with the latter, and now all libertarians are merely obsessing over this trio without moving their research further.
Next, Maxim shows that there is no right other than the right of the strong, and libertarian considerations about ethics and law are simply the ideology of the weak. The strong take what they want, and the weak are indignant, asking by what right, yet they endure and do not revolt. In conclusion, he suggests that libertarians acknowledge this conclusion as a fact and act based on these considerations. It must be said that this correlates in some ways with my definition of rights as claims that have been accepted; however, in my view, libertarian ideology will not be sufficiently viable if it only organically fits the worldview of people in a weak position, for as soon as a person becomes strong enough, they will begin to discard all libertarianism with contempt. Our task of ideological expansion consists precisely in demonstrating that libertarian approaches are also capable of improving life for the strong.
As for the debates with Kamendant, I strongly disliked the format; the moderator could have at least somehow reined Maxim in when he went off-topic, exceeding any reasonable time limits. On the other hand, Maxim stated at the very beginning that libertarians always enter debates only to lose, and then immediately demonstrated that for dominance in debates, the pressure applied is more important than the quality of argumentation. This is the nature of the genre, he claimed, so study no-holds-barred fighting; maybe you’ll win someone.
Nevertheless, a couple of takes appealed to me. One from Kamendant, when he said that as the legal system becomes universalized and separate local legal systems merge, local peculiarities disappear from them, and the foundation that remains is natural law. And libertarian ideology can rely perfectly on this very natural law.
The second take was from Maxim, stating that the ethical system of libertarianism has no need to justify itself through another ethical system, such as utilitarianism; the system should be closed within its own values. In principle, Rothbard wrote something similar when, analyzing Mises’ position, he noted that for a libertarian, freedom would be preferable even if it were somehow incredibly possible to construct a working version of communism that would multiply people’s material well-being more effectively than a free market. So, while a libertarian can be glad that the laws of economics are on their side, their ethical position should not rely on this circumstance but be rooted in more fundamental things.
So, in the end, listening to these conversations at 1.5x speed was not a complete waste of time, but in the future, I will prefer someone not so talkative.
The concept of ancap emerged within the framework of libertarian philosophy. However, besides libertarianism, there are other philosophies of freedom, such as objectivism or classical liberalism. It seems that any intellectual tradition aimed at achieving freedom has its own version close to ancap.
Question from Dmitry
I am currently translating an interesting article that traces the anarchist roots of ancap (funny, but many consider ancaps to be fake anarchists) from Proudhon, who, in fact, was the first to declare himself an anarchist. But there are still a few days until the work is finished, so for now, I’ll reflect on how fundamental it is for an anarcho-capitalist society to have specifically libertarian principles at its foundation—self-ownership and all that other NAP stuff.
Let’s replace self-ownership with “we are all instruments of the Lord” or “we are but a third theme in the music of Ainur.” This is simply a shift in the locus of control. Well, okay, now it’s external. Will this shift hinder the construction of ancap? Not particularly. The Lord, in His mercy, gave people commandments. The elves left humans their powerful epic, filled with moral messages. Take it, use it. In songs, you read about loyalty to oaths, or a commandment requires you not to bear false witness—one way or another, you learn the idea of a contract and the obligations under it, which means we have the basis for capitalism.
Can we do without the non-aggression principle? That no one has the right to initiate violence with impunity? No, someone does. Will this hinder the construction of ancap? Well, it depends on exactly who turned out to be the lucky exception to this principle. For example, if we declare that holy fools, small children, and women with PMS can initiate violence with impunity, this will not hinder us in building an anarcho-capitalist society. But if we declare that a certain special knightly order, sworn to maintain peace and tranquility in the Galaxy, possesses the right to initiate violence with impunity—it will be harder, although even then the situation is not hopeless, but we will be critically dependent on the procedures regulating entry into and expulsion from this order.
To what extent can ancap be built on the principles of classical liberalism? Gustave de Molinari described this very clearly. He didn’t know any of the clattering libertarian technical terms like NAP and self-ownership; he simply described how a competitive market for security services would yield better results than a monopolistic one.
What about objectivism? Egoism is a virtue. Reason is a virtue. Demanding that people sacrifice themselves for you is yuck. How is this not a basis for ancap? The principles sound as unfamiliar as appealing to the Silmarillion instead of the Bible as a source of morality, but essentially, by implementing the principles of objectivism, we get the same ancap, only with intellectual property. And yes, the state will not exist, regardless of what Ayn Rand wrote on the subject, because collecting taxes by force is to demand sacrifice from taxpayers, and forcing government officials to work for free is to demand sacrifice from them. But, of course, if voluntary self-governance coordinated by volunteers at their own expense or via donations is “the state,” then okay, let it be the state, but for us libertarians, this is simply ancap.
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