What Are We Going to Call Ourselves?

A real nation needs a real name. (DN 4.0)

Cover page | Preface | Introduction 1 | Introduction 2 | Introduction 3 |

(Part I) Why: 1.0 | 1.1 | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | 1.5 | 1.6 | 1.7 | 1.8 | 1.9 | 1.10 | 1.11 | 1.12 | 1.13 | 1.14 | 1.15 | 1.16 | 1.17 | 1.18 | 1.19 | 1.20 | 1.21 |1.22

(Part II) What: 2.0 | 2.1 | 2.2 | 2.3 | 2.4 | 2.5 | 2.6 | 2.7 | 2.8 | 2.9 | 2.10 I 2.11 | 2.12 | 2.13 | 2.14 | 2.15 | 2.16 | 2.17 | 2.XX | 2.18 | 2.19 | 2.20 | 2.21 | | Where: 3.0 | 3.1 | 3.2 | 3.3 | 3.4 | 3.5 | 3.6 | 3.7 | 3.8 | 3.9 | 3.10 | 3.11 | 3.12 | 3.13 || Who: 4.0

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(Note: This is an installment of The Distributed Nation. For installments of The Freedom Scale (book), see here.

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Chapter 4: Who

Chapter 4.0
What’s in a name?

We are now (roughly speaking) at the halfway point. We have discussed the Why, What, and Where of our distributed nation. Now we move on to Who, How, and When. Like a driving toward a mountain, the moment when we move from planning to practice draws ever closer.

In this chapter, we will begin a discussion of who we are.

Obviously, we are always, and most importantly, individuals. That will never change. You will never be treated as a cell of a larger body. No one in our new kind of nation will ever, Ever, EVER say that your rights must be violated “for the greater good.” You will never even hear that phrase. You are you—sovereign, unique, and irreplaceable.

Indeed, this is something that collectivists throughout history have never understood. Groups do not exist outside of their individual members. There is no such thing as the “public interest” or “world opinion” or the “greater good.” There are only individual interests. Individual opinions. Individual goods, needs, and wants.

Yet somehow, we will also be a nation—a group of individuals, all over the world, with a shared desire to be free. You will be you, and I will be I. But there will also be a we. Not a single-blob we, but a voluntary-association-of-free-beings we.

In this chapter, we will discuss what that looks like.

• What goals or characteristics might we share in common?

• What can we do as individuals to be more free?

• How might we work together—either in collaboration or in parallel—towards our shared goal of human independence?

Until a couple of weeks ago, I still was not sure how I was going to begin this chapter. Indeed, until a couple of weeks ago, I had planned this first topic for MUCH later…

What’s in a name?

I was reluctant to lead with this topic for good reason. I will use an analogy to illustrate why:

Eighth grader #1:
Let’s start a band.

Eighth grader #2:
Cool. I’ll get started on the artwork for our first album.

Eighth grader #3:
Maybe we should have kind of special costumes.

Eighth grader #4:
Uh, guys—shouldn’t we learn to play our instruments first?

You see what I mean?

The distributed nation is not a LARP. It’s not sci-fi. We are building something real, for the real world. My primary focus has been—and remains—figuring out the nuts and bolts of how to make that happen. It has seemed more important to figure out what it is than to decide what it will be called.

Yet I have come to realize something. It already is real. It is becoming more real every day. And a real thing needs a real name.

“Distributed nation” is a categorical term—it is a type of thing. We are creating a specific instantiation of this type of thing, and it needs a name. We cannot continue just referring to it as “our distributed nation” forever.

We won’t come to a hard decision today, but we must at least begin the conversation.

The First Allegiance

In spite of my desire to focus on depth rather than surface details, it not possible to go through a process like this without giving at least some consideration to the question of names. I have been formulating this distributed nation concept for quite some time—beginning slowly and growing in seriousness and intensity until the point when I realized that I must somehow shepherd a real one into existence. So naturally, the thought has come up along the way.

Early on in the process, something occurred to me…

Beginning in childhood, we are told we must “pledge allegiance” to a nation. In America, we even have a verbal pledge we are made to say aloud. Setting aside the fact that that American Pledge of Allegiance was written by a socialist, as part of the most jingoistic era in American history, why should we pledge allegiance to any country?

Every country on the planet is engaged, to one degree or another, in the exact same morally impermissible activity: involuntary governance. Every government, as a part of its normal functions, violates the natural rights of every human being on the planet, every hour of every day. Why should we pledge any allegiance to that?

Then I thought about those humans. What do we really pledge our allegiance to, on a day-to-day basis? Some will say a pledge—and maybe some even mean it—but there are things that matter far more.

For most, our first allegiance lies elsewhere…

When it comes to Earthly allegiances, nearly all of us begin with family above all else. And looking out for your family also means looking out for yourself. So right there are two things that come before any country.

Natural law tends to come before country too. In exigent circumstances, your first thought is generally not “What does my country tell me to do in this situation.” Rather, you have a natural reflex: “What is right thing to do here?”

For many, of course, God is the Source of that natural law, and their first allegiance is to God above all else.

You might think of your friends before your country. You might think of your happiness before your country. When you do your taxes, you don’t do it with glee—you do it because your country’s enforcers will clobber you if you don’t.

Through protracted inculcation in Bismarckian schools, we come to believe that our country deserves our allegiance. Some of us eventually wake up, however, and realize that other things matter far more. And then we wake up even further and realize that the whole time we are intoning our pledge of allegiance, our “country” has a gun to our heads.

It’s grotesque, and I want no part of it. Naturally, I realized that any nation I help create should stay as far away from pledges and allegiances as possible. And that is when a sentence popped into my head:

Imagine a nation that does not require you to pledge allegiance to it, but rather pledges its allegiance to you.

To you. To the things you value. To your freedom. To natural law.

I asked myself the question—where should all of our first allegiances lie? Then, at some point, it occurred to me that the “First Allegiance” sounded like a cool name. (As I mentioned when describing the backstory and early genesis of this concept, Neal Stephenson’s “First Distributed Republic” was already in my head, so that no doubt influenced the thought.)

At the end of the day, I do not believe that The First Allegiance is a good name. I am simply sharing a little bit of the process, so that we all understand where we’re going with this.

A name should be short and strong. People should want to say it.

A name should be cogent: people should know what it means and why we’ve chosen it.

A name should not be obscure or (God forbid!) cringey or LARPy.

Kyfho/Kyfhon/Kyfhons

Another name I have toyed with does come from a work of fiction. However, its meaning is so potent that I thought it might be able to overcome that drawback and not be disqualified for seeming excessively LARPy.

In order to explain why, I will reprint the bulk of an earlier discussion in which I introduce the concept. (It is necessary to do so, in spite of the added length.)

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A few months ago, in an extended comment conversation, Melissa Mistretta said something intriguing: “People are a product of their environment, and an anarchist system which grants liberty to individuals would probably create a community of strong people who wouldn't let anyone walk on them.” (emphasis mine)

Right around that time, I had been reading Enemy of the State—the first in F. Paul Wilson’s LaNague Federation series, and Melissa’s comment immediately took my mind right back to the book.

Enemy of the State is, unselfconsciously, anarchocapitalist sci-fi. (A genre I enjoy, as you might well imagine.) The Prometheus Blog summarizes the plot thusly:

Set in a positive but realistically flawed interstellar future in which human beings have spread among the stars, the LaNague Federation trilogy focuses on an imperialist central State and empire that is toppled by Peter LaNague, a far-sighted revolutionary who abjures violence in favor of a subtle, long-term plan based on a sophisticated understanding of economics, markets, money and inflation.

There is certainly a lesson in the idea of having a sophisticated, long-term strategy, but we can focus on that later. For now, let us look briefly at a philosophy Wilson expands in the book: Kyfho.

(Mild spoiler alert: I will not be giving away major plot points or endings, but I will be speaking of ideas, and at least one brief incidental vignette, from the book.)

Wilson uses the term several times before revealing that KYFHO is actually an ancient Earth acronym: Keep Your F- - -ing Hands Off. (Wilson uses the actual F-word, but you can easily replace it with filthy, freaking, or any other appropriate term.)

Kyfho is the pithiest possible summation of the foremost protocol of natural law: don’t put your hands on anyone else, or their stuff, without their consent. It is the same concept that we have sought to ensconce in our core protocol:

No person may be subjected to any transaction, initiation of coercive force, or imposition of authority to which he does not provide voluntary, informed, explicit, transparent, and revokable consent.

Wilson refers to a Book of Kyfho, which contains a multiplicity of teachings based on the broader philosophy. Yet the simple core principle—Kyfho itself—rings through in everything Peter LaNague and the Kyfhons do:

There must be no bloodshed, no violence unless it is defensive. No coercion! We must do it our way and our way alone! To do otherwise is to betray centuries of hardship and struggle. Above all else, Kyfho. Forget Kyfho in your pursuit of victory over the enemy, and you will become the enemy...worse than the enemy, because he doesn't know he is capable of anything better.

Kyfhons are strict adherents to the nonaggression principle, holding that force is only justified when it is defensive in purpose. One quickly perceives, however, a possible disconnect, depending on which aspect one chooses as one’s focus: the nonviolence or the defensive force.

Wilson depicts that dichotomy as a split of the Kyfhons into two branches. The first branch, of which Peter LaNague is an adherent, emphasizes non-violence.

The other—the Flinters—are similarly devoted to the nonaggression principle, but they also place a special emphasis on their right to deploy protective force when violence is used against them, their freedom, or their property. And they are VERY good at it—so much so that they are feared throughout known space. In addition to the request to “keep your hands off,” they have another motto, which has more of the character of a warning: Peace…or else.

Both approaches have an appeal, of course. Both are necessary. We want peace. We must endeavor to be peaceful. But we must be accorded the same respect by others.

I have only read the first of the series, but that was enough derive a clear impression of Kyfhon society. One illustration comes from a scene early on in the story…

LaNague’s mission takes him on a trip to Earth—which, by this point in its history, has become the apotheosis of a sclerotic, bankrupt welfare state. (Exactly as we might expect.)

Caught in one of the periodic food riots that takes place in Earth’s cities, LaNague and his surly companion are forced to flee in the direction of a Kyfhon enclave. The riotous throng is so large and formidable that little can stand in its way, and yet as it approaches the boundary of the enclave, it splits and passes along the edge of that boundary rather than dare crossing it.

The message: everyone on Earth knows not to mess with Kyfhons. The authorities let them govern their own affairs. Criminals know better than to risk it.

For the Kyfhons, the principles of natural law are not a mere abstraction to which they blandly adhere. They are fierce defenders of the freedom and independence that those principles demand.

The result is society with no leader, no government, and a fully free-market economy. What holds them together as a people is the absolute certainty that they are, and of right ought to be, independent and free. And a passionate belief in the principles that give rise to that certainty.

I have asked whether the core principles and protocols of natural law are enough to cohere a dispersed population into an actual nation. They certainly are for the Kyfhons.

Needless to say, the Kyfhons are from work of fiction. Wilson can draw them however he wants. Yet he does paint a plausible picture:

• A philosophy arises based on the principles of natural law.

• At some point, wise people express those principles in written form.

• A society forms based on adherence to those principles.

• Over time, the society grows in coherence, and after centuries of effort, they become an independent and prosperous people.

All because they believed in the core and universal principle of natural law: don’t put your hands on anyone else, or their stuff, without their consent.

So what do you think—would that work here in the real world? Could a nation of free people cohere around these principles?

Could you?

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I mean, it does kind of sound like us, doesn’t it? Or at least what we’d like to become.

In fact, Wilson drew such a clear and real picture of the Kyfhons that I could not help but associate it with us and what I would like to see us become.

And so naturally, I could not help but consider the name as a possibility as well.

It’s short and strong. It’s not cogent at first, but when the acronym is explained, it becomes the most cogent thing ever.

Is it LARPy? I don’t know. It doesn’t feel that way to me, but that may be just because I read the book and developed such a real feeling about it.

Keep Your F---ing Hand Off is as pithy a summation of our principles as one could imagine. I occasionally joke that “I do not consent” are the four most beautiful words in the English language. Maybe Keep Your F---ing Hand Off are the five most beautiful.

I do not know whether any use of the name would require Wilson’s permission. I am not sure if it is possible/legal to trademark a descriptive acronym like that. But even if it were not to require his permission, I would certainly at least like to get his blessing.

I like it, but I am not sure about it. I would love to hear opinions. I know that it pushes a button of joyous defiance in us, but that may not be enough. It needs to be thought through a bit more, and you can surely help with that process.

Terra/Terran/Terrans

I have always thought of our distributed nation as being a very human thing. Indeed, I have been thinking in these terms for a long time…

Recently, as an exercise, and as part of a contest, I wrote a Human Constitution. Before that, I had done a lot of groundwork by writing a Declaration of Human Independence.

That too was an exercise. For years, like so many before me, I had been discovering the principles of natural law, which serve as the source and foundation of human rights. Writing my “Declaration” was an exercise in understanding those rights.

I never published it, but it helped inform my work on the Human Constitution, and it will likely serve as the kernel for our own Declaration when the time comes.

My work on my other book (of the same name as my Substack) began as an exploration of the political spectrum, but ended up as a soaring, joyous exploration of the full landscape of human rights, and the Source of those rights—natural law.

Natural law is universal. It is real. It is woven into the fabric of reality itself. Our rights are an organic phenomenon of the universe.

We have a home in that universe: Earth. Wherever we end up, that is our origin point. And a big part of me wants that to be the source of our name.

We are not a single cohort of people in a single place. We are people of every type, in every part of the world. We are the people who have awakened to the fact that we are being denied our birthright as human beings. Our birthright as people of Earth.

Perhaps it is time to claim, and own, that birthright.

Not everyone is awake yet, but this is a worldwide problem. It is a human problem. And, as we have discussed, this problem requires a human solution. And that solution needs a name.

We who have awoken need a name.

“Earther” is an option, of course. But that is generally what aliens in sci-fi stories call humans. We would need something better than that.

Of all such alternatives, terra/terran seems like the best choice.

Terra is Latin for Earth, and of all the alternate names for Earth, it is by far the best-known. The Roman Empire spanned vast territory, and the impact of its language and culture has been felt in nearly every corner of the globe. Thus, it is instantly cogent.

It is short and strong. It is not the least bit obscure, LARPy, or cringey.

In fact, the only major problem I see with it is that virtually every possible domain name associated with it has already been taken. That is not fatal—we can find a workaround to that. But it is at least something of an obstacle.

I am open to, and invite, your thoughts, alternative suggestions, and questions. The time has come to figure this out. A real nation needs a real name.