Тег: Rights

Imposing cultural traditions

A quite significant portion of the questions people ask about Ancap boils down to whether one can do this and that, whether it’s permissible to do this and that, how Ancap views this and that. Can you kill pedophiles and murderers? Is slavery and abortion permissible? How does Ancap view intellectual property and global warming?

As you know from memes, Ancaps have a simple, concise, and even fully correct answer to all these questions: the market will resolve it/. In other words, in response to a question about the imaginative subject “Ancap” a specific imaginative subject, “the market,” is pointed out, which will establish the corresponding norms. Of course, this answer is too brief and therefore doesn’t satisfy those asking. Let me elaborate on the topic a bit.

Mostly, people aren’t bothered by what other people do because another person’s behavior fits into another person’s notions of what is proper. And when it stops fitting, that person starts to worry about it, begins to think about how he should relate to it and what can be done with it.

A libertarian can roughly describe his notions of what is proper as “self-ownership is respected, NAP isn’t violated.” This isn’t enough, and notions of what is proper are supplemented by all sorts of “here it’s customary like this.” For example: here right-hand traffic; we let children pass ahead in line; at a restaurant the person who invites pays, and so on. But besides all these ethically neutral customs, there are also those relating to various borderline situations. For example, at what age does sex stop being an adult’s business and become the business of whoever is doing it? Or what kind of natural compensation is permissible to demand from a debtor or from someone who caused damage? Or in what cases does an author have the right to restrict other people from using his work? These things are not derived from basic libertarian principles, as is, for example, right-hand traffic.

In ethically contentious situations, a person tends to offer as a norm the option that’s more advantageous to him personally. If he’s also influential enough – it can be painful to be hit with, it can bring much good, it evokes universal love or simply annoys – then they might agree with his proposed norm; but further down, this decision can easily become a precedent, and now others will cite this version of the norm as local custom. Then, for someone who wants to revise this norm, it will be necessary to be much stronger, more useful, more charming or more annoying, because he’s going against tradition.

Thus, one can speak about the right of the strong: that person who put in efforts to create a precedent, may thereby establish a legal norm. It will be difficult for him to change this norm whenever he wants – in legal tradition this is called the Estoppel principle – if someone previously demonstrated by his actions that he adheres to such-and-such a norm, then he cannot legally insist that it not be applied to him.

In artistic form, the Estoppel principle is well demonstrated in Maxim Shapiro’s famous story “Respect for Cultural Traditions”.

Of course, whoever possesses undeniable superiority in strength, usefulness, charm or sheer annoyingness, or who leads a united group of like-minded people, will be able to promote such a legal norm as “this specific idiot has the right to act in any situation, as he pleases,” creating thereby a state. However, until he creates legal norms for transferring his power, this state will inevitably end with his death, and death is usually quite early. At least this regularity ancient history shows us. But we are considering *ankap* here – that is, the public order in which the probability of success of such idiots is deliberately reduced to a minimum.

So how will they treat heretics, slavery and the rest at *ankap*? You decide. The more effort you put into making your opinion prevail, the more intolerant you are of other opinions – the greater the probability that heretics will be given exactly as many lashes as you outlined to the first one you met. And of course, the greater the probability that in defending your opinion you will suffer unacceptable losses – and wipe out. Nevertheless, if these topics excite you vividly, I recommend boosting strength, usefulness, charm.

And annoyingness.

Respect for Cultural Traditions“

A question from Georgy Nemov regarding non-accession to contract jurisdictions

Let’s simulate a situation:

Territorial and extraterritorial contractual jurisdictions are formed, as well as a decentralized cross-arbitration mechanism linking them. Natural law continues to be supported only by religious or ethical organizations, in whose understanding the guarantor of rights is God/karma. Thus, these organizations remain the only ones who guarantee the life and freedom of a person in territories with a population that has not entered into contract law. These people may be marginal, fragmented, poor, or simply very far from the ideas of ancap. And these people flock under the protection of such religious organizations.

1. Do you think such a situation is possible?
2. If so, is this process natural, and is it a legal objectification of the human being?
3. If this happened, how should our union of contractual jurisdictions proceed? Should it be perceived as a threat, and how should it be fought? Or, conversely, supported?

Ancap-chan’s Answer

1. In fact, this describes a fairly ordinary case of tribalism. While some people, in the event of legal conflicts, rely on those organizations that are obliged to provide assistance by contract, others simply rely on the help of coreligionists/like-minded people. There is nothing surprising about this; there are currently many extremely decentralized communities of interest in the world, from hitchhikers and fencers to libertarians and Krishnaites. They already generally provide primary legal assistance to their members, especially locals to newcomers. I don’t see why these mechanisms should suddenly look different in our model world with greater decentralization of law.

2. I realize that you and I interpret the model situation somewhat differently. You likely view “jurisdictions” as organizations to which a person is legally attached, and those who are not attached are as if outside the law. I view jurisdictions more as “areas of norm imposition,” into which a person may fall both according to contracts and outside of them. And since in the model situation states, as organizations of general jurisdiction on their territory, exit the stage, a huge number of situations arise in which the jurisdiction is unknown in advance. If I’m having sex in a car parked opposite a church, whose jurisdiction is it? The parking owner’s? The church’s? The wife of the person I’m having sex with? It all depends on the context. If the car is parked incorrectly, the parking owner deals with us. If the parking owner is a church, its employee may suggest we have sex elsewhere and not distract the parishioners from pious thoughts. If my partner’s wife has an agreement with him that such things are not accepted between them, then demanding information from me about how aware I was of his availability is entirely within her jurisdiction. But some universal jurisdiction, which cares about everything and can dictate its norms in any sphere—that is already the dark etatist past; in our model situation, these dinosaurs died out long ago and ignominiously.

3. Let’s consider the situation where, say, in some locality, some people call their insurance company during a conflict, while others write in a thematic chat “alarm, ours are being beaten!”, and people from the surroundings start gathering, ready to defend the interests of a member of their community. Should such a thing be perceived as a threat? That depends on what interests the community defends in the conflict. If it is determined to protect its own at any cost in any conflict, then it is a clear threat, and a conditional insurance company must be ready for war with this gang in such cases. But if it is determined to extinguish the conflict, then there are no problems; this is one of the most important functions of communities. A person feels comfortable in them, but in order to belong to them, they accept that other members of the community care about their behavior. In this situation, from the insurance company’s point of view, the community acts as an “insurance cooperative” and can be viewed as an equal counterparty.

Law and legality in the transition to ancap

Another question about the subject was asked in the comments, and I don’t really want to answer from purely theoretical positions, because for a little over three years now, I’ve had the opportunity to try to implement something. So, I want to reflect on the problems of law and legislation in the ancap community using Montelibero as an example.

I will outline the conceptual framework I am using. Law is the order for resolving conflicts accepted within the community. Statute is a legal norm that the community considers permissible to impose by force. Court is a procedure for resolving conflicts by a third party not involved in the conflict. Jurisdiction is the venue, that is, the circle of conflicts that the community customarily resolves through a specific court.

Montelibero, like any other ancap community in the era of state dominance, cannot claim full jurisdiction over its members. Yes, any issue can be resolved within Montelibero’s jurisdiction—but only if the state is unaware of it. Otherwise, the state may impose its own requirements on what the parties to the conflict are obliged to do.

The Montelibero community is small. It does not provide the opportunity for full market competition between many diverse courts. However, this is no reason to bow before the state. After all, we have implemented tokenomics and now have our own very cheap and efficient financial system. On a single blockchain, without competition between them (we tried adding others, but they didn’t take hold). Although, privately, nothing prevents the exchange of any values: whether commodities, fiat, or various types of crypto. The same applies to courts: by mutual agreement, disputes can be resolved by a coin toss, mediation by a pre-agreed authority, or a duel—but if there is no agreement, one must rely on some unified default judicial mechanism.

Every jurisdiction is subject to a strong positive scale effect: the more conflicts it resolves, the more potential conflicts will specify this particular jurisdiction in advance. This is understandable: people save mental effort and will not keep many different legal mechanisms in mind without particular need, eventually leaning toward a single option, even if it is not the most optimal for a specific case. There are also negative scale effects: even the most efficient judge is unlikely to be able to significantly increase their productivity and will more likely raise the price as demand increases. Therefore, to scale this type of service, it is convenient to use a franchising mechanism: judges may differ, but they will use a single procedure and uniform legal norms.

Where would these come from? The Schelling point here is the procedures adopted in the hosting jurisdiction, that is, in the Montenegrin courts. Why? At least because that is where those dissatisfied with a Montelibero court decision will theoretically turn. But since the local legislation is full of various statist rubbish, it must, of course, be discarded and replaced with our own home-grown concepts. There are few basic principles in libertarianism, but specific legal norms that do not contradict them can vary. And here, precedents will become the Schelling points. It will be easier for each subsequent court to apply a previously used norm than to invent a new one for every new case. Moreover, it will be easier for all members of the Montelibero community to proceed from established legal practice, as predictability in affairs is the foundation for trust.

But, as is known, it is not enough to understand if the laws are good; one must ask if they are enforced.

While judicial practice is limited, one must rely mainly on the conscientiousness of the parties and the informal authority of the judge. The potential ability to turn to the state for enforcement of court decisions is relevant only for the largest cases, where the amount at stake justifies the accompanying costs. In the smallest cases, the losing party will pay without question because the amount is trivial. The problem lies in medium-sized cases, where invoking state enforcement is still too expensive and disgraceful, but the losing party is reluctant to pay.

The most civilized way to achieve the enforcement of court decisions is the widespread use of collateral. I envision a gradual evolution here from one-time deposits to secure a specific claim, to permanent deposits confirming a willingness to comply with the decisions of a specific jurisdiction.

Initially, it might work roughly like this. A community member wishes to enter into a legal relationship with another member. For example, rent a car or an apartment, borrow money, or enter into an employment contract. In addition to the direct contract between the counterparties, they also notify the court and transfer collateral amounts to a court-controlled account, the size of which depends on the amount of liability imposed by the concluded contract. Then, from this collateral, a penalty can be recovered—for example, from an employee for damaging equipment, or from an employer for an industrial injury caused by their fault.

But gradually, as the court builds its own reputation, deposits will become permanent: you recognize the jurisdiction of the MTL court and place a certain deposit on its controlled account—a sort of “price of honor,” in ancient Irish terms. Now anyone can be sure that within the limits of the price of honor, you can be trusted unconditionally. Want to increase your reputation—simply increase the deposit. Leaving the country, or, say, the last court decision caused your distrust—decrease the deposit. Leaving the jurisdiction—withdraw the deposit entirely (with some lag to ensure you have no debts from old contracts).

Moreover, based on this solution, an institute of suretyship could develop, where a guarantor increases trust in the person they vouch for by risking their own judicial deposit.

It would be great if increasing the price of honor contributed to respect within the community, but such an attitude will not form on its own—first, a tradition of involving people with a high price of honor in responsible legal relationships must be grown, for example, as witnesses to large transactions or plaintiffs in socially important cases. Also, a mechanism for increasing another’s price of honor through the payment of judicial deposits into another’s account could certainly appear—if a person’s personal integrity far exceeds their financial capabilities. The result would be something like a Hoppean natural aristocracy.

And, of course, this entire mechanism will work much worse if it turns out that there are a large number of community members who completely ignore it, yet enter into legal relationships with each other in the same way. They may be too poor to freeze money for the sake of reputation. They may not trust a specific court. And finally, they may not trust the mechanism itself.

The poverty factor is handled to a certain extent through suretyship mechanisms. The factor of distrust in a specific court—through competing courts. The factor of distrust in the mechanism—simply a matter of habit. Trust is built; one just must not try to impose it.

What are the different variants of anarcho-capitalism? I only know about the Rothbardian and Friedmanite variants (I am not including Hoppe, as it is essentially a development of Rothbard’s ideas in one specific direction).

Dmitry

I don’t think there is a clear typology anywhere, but the question is interesting; let’s reason through it.

The Rothbardian version: it is derived from natural rights, and therefore presupposes a certain unified ethical-legal system described in “The Ethics of Liberty,” or derived in some other way on the same methodological basis (for example, Molliqneux expresses his views in this same vein in his Practical Anarchy). Consequently, questions arise regarding it: who will force everyone to be guided by a single legal system?

The Friedmanite version is based on the economic analysis of law, specifically on the basis of the Chicago School of Economics, which implies the possibility of engaging in interpersonal utility comparisons to a certain extent. Accordingly, in the Friedmanite version of anarcho-capitalism, different legal systems are traded on the market, capturing those segments where they prove to be the most efficient.

Nevertheless, both versions of social organization imply, as a kind of successor to the key state function of enforcing its own decisions, certain law enforcement agencies, as in the case of Friedman and the Tannahills, or strictly non-violent dispute resolution agencies, as with Molliqneux, which nevertheless possess truly totalitarian regulatory power—in short, some “larvae” of the state, about which one must somehow explain what reasons will prevent these larvae from growing into full-fledged states.

Following Vladimir Zolotorev, I adhere to a praxeological approach to the analysis of law and, quite independently of him, predict that in an anarchic society with developed market relations, the effect of the division of labor will push cumbersome monsters—those attempting to gather completely diverse functions, which are currently appropriated by the state, under one roof—out of the market. There are no grounds to believe that the services of detectives, forensic experts, or blockchain analysts must necessarily be provided by the same firms that offer security services, debt collection, resolve economic disputes, maintain cadasters, insure life and property, or issue certificates stating that a person knows how to drive a car or, for instance, shoot a pistol.

The practice of living in the libertarian community of MonteLibero further strengthens me in my originally purely theoretical views that people do not need detailed, written-out legal institutions all that much. On the contrary, in an anarchic society, people tend to resolve conflicts on the spot, forming situational coalitions if necessary. The need for complex specialized services in the field of legal protection arises quite rarely; therefore, in a free market, this need will likely be met by relatively small companies that nevertheless have a wide geographical reach—otherwise, a sufficient client base cannot be gathered.

Returning to the question, we see that different descriptions of ancap mainly boil down to how conflicts will be resolved in such a society—because regarding issues such as the functioning of a free market, libertarian theorists have no particular disagreements. Accordingly, if some previously undeveloped idea occurs to you about how law could otherwise function—congratulations, you will add another version of ancap to the collection of existing ones.

Alternatives to the right to carry a pistol

I’ve noticed that almost all answers to the question “how will it work?” boil down to “gun law.” If anything goes wrong—shoot, and figure it out later. If you break the law (which doesn’t exist, meaning you just seem like a bad person to someone)—you’ll be killed. Don’t want to pay a court judgment—shoot your way out, but the plaintiff can hire a private special forces squad against you. And so on. The principle of proportionality of punishment is somewhere far off, but the right to shoot is right here. Everything indirectly leads back to the idea that “whoever has the gun is right.” Wouldn’t it be better to organize a social order where such situations are prevented in advance and long before they happen?

Muscovite (not Chinese)

To start, I’ll note that the status quo is exactly as described in the question: the principle of proportionality of punishment is somewhere far off, while the right to shoot is right here. Therefore, whoever is armed can easily dictate their will to those who are unarmed. Anyone could be armed—a bandit, for instance, or a cop. If he uses a weapon with particular cynicism, there’s a chance he’ll be reprimanded, fired, or given a suspended sentence after the fact; even if it’s a real sentence, it is, one way or another, a delayed punishment that in no way prevents either the already occurred outrage involving the use of weapons or new similar actions.

Ancap differs from the status quo in that everyone has the right to own a weapon, everyone can use it, and whoever wants to dictate their will to a randomly chosen victim by threatening them with a weapon risks encountering armed resistance not only from the victim but from anyone else. Can it be said that under ancap, whoever has the gun is right? Well, then we would have to admit that everyone who bothered to bring a gun is right. Even so, this seems more attractive to me than a situation where “the one who decided to use armed violence is right, and the others are unarmed, disenfranchised cattle.” But anyway, enough about ancap, the question is about a hypothetical society without “gun law.”

The first idea is the most obvious. No guns—no gun law. Alas, if you deprive society of guns, you simply get brass-knuckle law, knife law, or even just fist law. Not to mention the possibility of plowing into a crowd with a truck.

The second idea is the creation of a smart environment in which any violence is suppressed by technological means so quickly that you can barely manage to exercise your “gun law.” Among sci-fi writers, I read a description of such a society by Lem, but I didn’t like it: it exaggerates too much; instead of serious forecasts, it becomes a kind of parody that discredits the idea. I can only note that this path implies enormous trust in technological solutions. If we don’t leave them to state monopolies and allow private entities to independently design solutions in this vein, we could very well end up with numerous commercial zones where a high level of security is ensured purely through technological means.

The third idea is being actively pushed by Bitarch. He proceeds from the premise that there is nothing terrible about self-defense, but the inclination toward aggressive violence is something that can be worked on. To take away a person’s desire to attack is far more humane than killing. What can be said here? For me, the moral status of a “vaccination against violence” is roughly the same as the moral status of any other vaccine. If you can ensure mass testing and vaccination through non-violent means—well done. If you can’t—prepare for acts of mass disobedience, lawsuits, and an extremely poor reputation for your proposed solution.

So, in short, those are the options for replacing a “gun law” society that came to mind. Do you have any others? Describe them in the comments.

You stand there and wonder: am I right enough, or should I tuck a couple more guns under my crinoline?

Legal systems that differ significantly from ours. Translation of the chapter on Islamic law.

I have been procrastinating for a nightmarely long time on the translation of David Friedman’s book about various exotic legal systems. But then I was sent a link in my DMs to Scott Alexander’s parody Legal Systems Very Unlike Our Own (Because I Just Made Them Up) — I felt ashamed and sat down to translate.

So, the fifth chapter of the book, on Islamic law, has been translated. As expected, it turned out to be similar to a refined version of Jewish law, and due to its inherent decentralization, libertarians can borrow quite a lot from it for their own purposes.

Please don’t forget to donate to this and all other translations, and I will try not to drag out this process too much.

Why did you decide to build the basic theory through rights, rather than through freedoms?

Did it turn out that way? Is it easier to explain to liberals with remnants of religious consciousness? Are there some non-obvious pitfalls with liberties that aren’t present in an explanation through rights?

Λ (taken from the chat)

Freedom is the natural state of a human being outside of society. Robinson is free on a deserted island until Friday appears, and he has no rights, because there is no one to whom he can make claims, and no one to whom he must yield. When society emerges, it means the restriction of liberties and the appearance of rights. Since the book on ancap is dedicated specifically to life in society, it discusses rights rather, as they are generated by society itself.

A free person before the emergence of the need for ancap