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
Chapter 3.8
Organizational units, 6
Wherever you are in the world, if you are here and reading these words, then you believe (or are at very least considering) a revolutionary idea:
Maybe our problems are not solely the result of our systems of government being badly run, or run by bad people. Maybe the problem lies with the systems themselves.
Maybe you have realized, as I finally did a couple of years ago, that another round of reforms, tweaks, or shiny new candidates isn’t going to cut it. And that expecting otherwise is the definition of insanity.
Of course, it’s easy to identify problems. Finding solutions is the tough part.
The big difference in the solution we are herein considering begins with the radical (yet morally inescapable) notion that we should not have to flee our homes in order to be free. Our chosen solution is a distributed nation, which we define, generically, as
A geographically dispersed population of individuals who choose to unite into a single polity, cohering around a set of principles, shared mission, common identity, form of governance, or any other unifying factor(s).
In our case, the cohering factor is a shared belief in the bright, shiny, universal principles of natural law. And the polity is a comparatively loose collection of individuals.
We are not looking to recreate the oppressive nation-state model of the past. There will be no ‘great leader.’ No controlling hierarchy. No taxes, impositions of authority, or ‘implied’ social contracts to which you never consented.
Rather, we are individual humans who share an unshakable belief in our own sovereignty and rights, and choose to make common cause with others who feel the same.
There are many good reasons to do so.
There is strength in numbers. Even as a loose association of individuals, we gain focus and purpose. We also gain a support system that will foster friendship, alleviate loneliness, and help us weather the storms to come. And much more, as we have been, and will continue, discussing throughout this work.
Many of us are, by nature, not “joiners.” We like going it alone. And if that is your wish, so be it. But a lot of us have realized that remaining isolated gets us nowhere. We want something more. And if things start to really melt down, we know that we will need something more, and we want to be ready when the time comes.
Our purpose, for this portion of chapter 3, has been to consider different possibilities for how the members of a distributed nation might be organized.
This is a difficult question. Dispersed populations—diasporas, for example—aren’t generally organized. Or, more precisely, their organization is organic. They form local groups. They aggregate around civic or religious organizations. Like the free-market, their organization is purely spontaneous and emergent.
Can we do any differently? Should we? After all, we too are, and will be, a kind of dispersed population. We know that emergent order is a very good thing, and imposed order is very bad. On the other hand, too little organization just leaves us where we already are—isolated individuals who may have the right views, but who cannot do much to support or comfort each other, or work together on important projects.
The solution is to split the difference. Like any dispersed population, we can and will form small groups organically. As a nation, we should encourage this phenomenon.
The process cannot, and should not, be forced, but we can certainly guide and foster it. And then our Alliance for Human Independence (or whatever it ends up being called) can be there to help any such groups.
As a part of our encouragement, guidance, and fostering of this process, we are first attempting to envision what it might look like. What sorts of groups might form? What should they be called? How can we direct our activities to beneficial outcomes?
No one is forcing us to organize or form any sort of groups. We have to CHOOSE to do so, in ways that will help us (and make us happier people).
By aggregating natural knowledge and experience with my ideas and those of others, I believe we can develop a picture of the kinds of groups that will likely form, and that would be beneficial to us.
Individuals
As we made clear again and again and again and again throughout chapter 1, the individual human person must be the fundamental unit of moral concern and analysis in society, and as such, is the fundamental unit of the distributed nation.
The human person must never be treated, or thought of, as a mere cell in a larger body. That practice—which we can call “collectivism” for shorthand—is the source of much of the wickedness of human history.
Every person is, and must be treated as, an end unto himself. And in order to exist as such, one must be safe and free in the space one occupies. Thus, we have loosely defined our particular distributed nation as
A worldwide archipelago of sovereign people, sovereign spaces, chosen communities, and voluntary cooperation.
What we should call the individual participants in our distributed nation is still an open question. The term “citizen” is absolutely unacceptable—that has way too much statist baggage; that is not who we are. Thus far, I have been favoring members as the best term, as that word generally implies voluntary association. You choose to be a member of an organization or group, on mutually agreed terms.
That is not always the case, of course—some closed-shop unions, for example, will use the term “members,” even though the members did not really have much of a choice. Generally speaking, however, “membership” is thought of as being a voluntary condition. (If anyone has a better term, however, I am all ears.)
Families
The most natural human unit above the individual is the nuclear family: a couple who couple, and thus create children. Naturally, such families grow into extended families, clans, and lines of humans stretching forward and backward in time. As it should be.
The nuclear family is itself a sovereign unit, and the most important organizational building block for the distributed nation. It is also essential for the survival of our very species, given the demographic winter that looms in the not-too-distant future.
Houses
Families tend to operate as a single unit. As such, I have proposed the House as the first “official,” named unit of organization for our distributed nation, and offered a working definition as
An individual, family, or group, on sovereign property or in a sovereign space, living by (and free and independent because of) the principles of natural law.
I chose the term “house” because of its association with the concept of nobility—not in the sense of birthright authority over anyone else, but as a set of noble behaviors.
This is not some sort of fantasy-story LARP. The principles to which we cleave are the most noble principles in the universe. We should endeavor to make ourselves worthy of them. We should try to make ourselves better.
As such, I have proposed the House as an appropriate descriptor for an individual or a family unit:
For individuals, it speaks to the moral inviolability of our nature as sovereign beings. It speaks to the sovereignty of our property, or of the space in which we dwell. It represents the nobility of our aspirations, and of the natural-law principles by which we live.
For a family, it speaks of nature—of the nuclear family's status as the most fundamental unit of human organization. It speaks of hearth and home as the locus of love and support. And it speaks of the future—of the family as the generative force, and the home as the locus of future-orientation that is needed in order to build a nation and a civilization.
Crews
I have proposed that the next likely unit of organization would be a small number of houses (individuals, families, friends, etc.) choosing to associate together and make common cause.
Such association is more likely to occur, or to be formalized, in exigent circumstances (social or economic collapse, oppression, etc.). However, it can—and should!—happen anytime. Even if one’s sole goal is support and comradeship in difficult times, it is better, for all sorts of reasons, to form these bonds ahead of time.
In our initial discussion, we considered a variety of terms for this sort of unit. In general, words that are known and cogent are best; it is much harder for purely made-up terms to catch on. As such, we considered “team,” “tribe,” and others.
One person suggested “band,” which I liked. However, band does have a nomadic connotation, and even a somewhat dangerous one: “roving bands of __fill-in-the-blank__.” I recommend caution there.
Shortly thereafter, the word “crew” popped into my head. It carries a feeling of camaraderie and working together toward desirable goals, but it also can have an informal vibe. In the scenario I laid out in our discussion of this concept, I could easily see myself happily forming a crew with friends and neighbors, whether they be geographically next door or not.
Claves
In that same discussion,
, in homage to Neal Stephenson, suggested “burbclave” as a good term for what I described above as a crew. For those who do not know, “burbclaves” are private enclaves, each occupied by a different phyle (from the Greek word for “tribe” or “clan”), in the anarcho-libertarian near-future worlds of Stephenson’s novels Snow Crash and The Diamond Age.Needless to say, given the seminal effect that those two novels had on my concept for the distributed nation, I personally loved the idea, and after some thought, I realized that there is a way that we can use this term (without it being LARPy and weird).
As I laid out somewhat extensively in chapter 2, in a world in which human consent is properly respected, human organization would take many different forms. The same is the case for the many efforts currently straining in that direction.
Polities of varying sizes would doubtless form. Some would be territorial, with fixed borders. Others might be semi-territorial, pre-territorial, or fully online. Some would involve a fully dispersed and distributed population—nations within nations.
The distributed nation combines several of these concepts. It begins as a distributed population, but includes the notion of individual territorial sovereignty. Such sovereignty in turn presupposes that people have the right to cooperate to form their own sovereign territorial polities.
Take for example the concept of a crew, an example picture of which I drew in a previous installment. If a crew is geographically proximate (as I and my neighbors are, in the scenario I described), then such a crew could reasonably form a physical enclave of sorts.
Well before I began formalizing my thoughts regarding the distributed nation—and spurred by the madness of the world’s reaction to Covid—I envisioned such a scenario with my own neighbors. If things melt down, I thought, the first thing I am going to do is get with my neighbors and declare our own little three-house country!
That may sound crazy to some, but it is a legitimate reaction to a world that is as mad as ours. And in a scenario in which consent is respected (or in which we demand that it be), such is our right.
“Burbclave” was Stephenson’s reduced portmanteau of “suburban enclave.” We can further reduce that to clave and define it as
Any geographically coterminous enclave formed by individuals, families, crews, clans, or other groups.
Such enclaves are, and ought to be treated as, sovereign.
Naturally, we want such enclaves to be formed by members of the distributed nation. After all, their sovereignty is justified by the very natural-law principles around which we cohere.
But at the end of the day, we just want you to be sovereign and free. Whether you are an official member of our distribution nation or not, so long as you too adhere to those universal principles, then you are our friend and ally, and we will seek to work with you, and defend your right to be free in your own space.
Clans
As previously discussed, one of the most natural progressions of organic human organization is the grand-family, extended family, or clan.
Such a unit is often based around grandparents. They are the progenitors of an extended family, yet they are usually still young enough to serve as a locus of activity and family gatherings. Ideally, they are a source of guidance and wisdom (and auxiliary childcare!).
Clans have taken many forms in different cultures at different times. Some clans form from far deeper roots—even from a common ancestor in a far-distant past.
I will not attempt to prescribe, proscribe, or encourage any clan-based unit. Rather, I am simply acknowledging that clans are a natural outgrowth of organic human existence, and are thus likely to form.
For now at least, I will simply note that there are positives and negatives involved in the clan phenomenon.
Clans can be a source of strength, in good times or in bad. They form a child’s first associations, and the tighter the clan, the deeper those associations tend to be. Clans can even offer succor to non-family—as the Scottish clans did—creating not only a family unit, but an economic and social community. This is all very good.
Clans—like any group, really—can also foment conditions of factionalism and division. We obviously don’t want that. The hope here is that any clans that form from among our members will be formed by people fiercely devoted to the principles of natural law. As such, they should become centers of trade and support, and a place to find mates for intermarriage, rather than sources of strife. We will certainly work toward that end.
Hundreds
The better part of a year ago, The Starfire Codes’ Demi Pietchell called my attention to a term that had somehow escaped me: monkeysphere. This term is a colloquial reference to Dunbar’s Number, which refers to the theoretical amount of people with whom one is able to maintain stable social relationships. Dunbar fixed that number at around 150. Beyond that, people start to seem much more two-dimensional.
More recently, my old friend
pointed out to me that according to paleoanthropologists, as Homo Erectus spread out from Africa's Rift Valley, their groups never seemed to get bigger than 100 families. With children, that would have been something just a bit larger than Dunbar’s NumberWhether the actual number is 100, 150, or a bit more, there seems to be something to the concept. It makes sense that everyone in one’s social circle ought to be people toward whom one can feel a degree of genuine social sentiment. And yet we are wired to be limited in the number towards whom we can feel such sentiment.1 As such, it makes sense to form social units that do not grow much larger than Dunbar’s Number.
In that same discussion with Jonathan, he mentioned that in Anglo-Saxon England, “[t]he hundred became a convenient legal unit—larger than a parish, smaller than a shire—with their own ‘hundred courts.’” Here too, it makes a lot of sense that a court system serve no more than the amount of people who are able to have real social relationships with one another.
I am not saying that we should, at this very moment, declare the hundred to be an official unit of organization for our distributed nation. At this juncture, I am primarily pointing out the importance of Dunbar’s Number. If our groups start growing to a size that begins to exceed that number…well, that is a “problem” we very much want to have.
At that point, emergent order will likely work its magic, with groups forming and dividing organically, to keep the size of individual groups functionally manageable. Clans, after all, can only get so big. Claves are limited by geography. If crews exceed 100-ish people, they have kind of ceased to be crews and have become something else.
We can, as needed, supplement this emergent process with ideas of our own…
We are not a nation in the typical sense, so we do not need administrative units as such. The goal of our distributed nation, however, is ultimately to grow into a large, worldwide phenomenon. This means that though we do not require administrative units to impose law, we may nonetheless wish to add larger levels of organization.
Perhaps it can simply be done decimally: 10 hundreds make a thousand, ten thousands make a ten-thousand, and so forth. Perhaps it can be based on areas of habitation: local, area, region, continent. Perhaps another way will present itself.
For now, I am not too worried about answering every last question, and neither should you be. We’re not letting the perfect be the enemy of the good. As my wife and I often say of our own plans: “We’ll know what to do and when to do it.”
Or perhaps you prefer General Patton’s “A good plan executed now is better than a perfect plan executed next week.”
Either way, this is good enough for the time being. We know that we can all be united in a single nation, based on a common belief in our shared principles. We also know that we cannot have close relationships with everyone. As such, layers of sub-organization make sense.
And those listed above are an excellent start, and will serve us well.
Some people react to this assertion as if it is some sort of wickedness on our part (and usually a wickedness to which they themselves are exempt). This is a long subject for another time, but if you actually felt the exact same level of emotional devastation when 50 strangers die in a bus accident halfway across the globe as you would if your parents died in a similar accident, you would be an emotional cripple. As sympathetic as you feel you are to the whole human race (and I respect that feeling), you do not actually, in reality, feel the same for strangers as you do for loved ones. If you did, you would be in a constant state of emotional paralysis. Dunbar’s Number is real, makes sense, and is necessary for survival and sanity.
Excellent exploration of organizational units. I was actually able to control for my natural distrust of organizations and hierarchies.
For the majority, the collective brain will still be reeling with thoughts and memories of the past. It's like starting a new relationship where all the old baggage wants to drag you back into the past. Can humanity get over this? I don't know what new concepts we can come up with that haven't been part of the past. I suppose it will be a long, long evolution instead of a rather quick revolution.