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.
Writing a new chapter of my book about war happened to coincide by pure chance with another anniversary of the end of the European phase of World War II, as well as with the vibes in the air regarding the conclusion of the current Russian-Ukrainian one. The chapter turned out to be somewhat pensive and lyrical. Also, while creating it, I was occasionally plagued by imposter syndrome: what right do I have to write about such matters without having military experience? May those who do have it forgive me, or better yet—comment on my amateur fantasies from their expert perspective.
This concludes the main, theoretical, second part of the book. The third part is expected to feature the practical applications of the theory.
In short: the guarantees of freedom of speech under libertarianism are the same as under liberalism.
Now, in more detail.
Originally, the concept of “freedom of speech” is a liberal doctrine implying that citizens deny the state the right to prosecute its citizens for their utterances. Usually, freedom of speech is promoted in conjunction with freedom of religion, the press, and so on, because citizens, understanding that the state will inevitably find loopholes in a general prohibition, separately specify spheres where the state is not just forbidden, but completely prohibited from prosecuting citizens. What guarantees freedom of speech according to liberal doctrines? Of course, the separation of powers. The executive branch encroaches on freedom of speech, the legislative branch describes exactly what limitations the executive has, and the judicial branch interprets what the legislative branch has dreamt up; as a result, the branches of power trip over each other, and if they suddenly start marching in step, citizens have the right to rebellion, interpreted as the right to reconstitute the government if the previous one, through a long series of abuses, has completely discredited itself as a bearer of liberal values.
Libertarianism implies that the only permissible function of government is the protection of private property rights (since not everyone believes that private property rights can also be effectively protected in a decentralized manner without any government at all).
Can a libertarian government prosecute its citizens for their utterances? Yes, easily. For example, a certain citizen slanders another citizen, and the latter suffers losses because of it. There is a loss—there is a reason to sue. The court may award compensation to the victim of slander at the expense of the slanderer, and this, certainly, can be interpreted as a violation of freedom of speech. Another example is fraud. No slander here; on the contrary, the product is praised so much that it makes your mouth water, but the real qualities of the product fall far short of the description. Could a court consider this statement a violation of private property rights if the transaction took place and is subsequently contested? It could.
Finally, there are countless examples where freedom of speech is not entirely correctly understood by people as the right to make any statements without punishment on any private platform, provided that the platform is fundamentally intended for making statements. Can the owner of the platform ban someone who prevents them from developing their business? Of course, it is their private property. Will a libertarian government support such an encroachment on freedom of speech? It is obliged to support it. But what if the platform belongs to a member of the government? Here we have a clear legal conflict.
What follows from all these arguments? Yes, a libertarian government has fewer powers than a liberal one. But it does have the power to encroach on freedom of speech. Could it begin to abuse these powers? It could. What is left for citizens as a last resort? The same sacred right to rebellion.
Don’t forget to water the garden bed with oil.
The tomatoes, grandson, might wither, but the machine gun won’t rust
The new chapter of the book on libertarian theory of war turned out to be short; perhaps I will merge it later with the next one—about summing things up. Or maybe I’ll leave it as is. The main idea is simple: one should exit a war as early as possible, but depending on the course of the war, there are some nuances.
