An Essay Featured in Belonging Again
On Dynamic Processes and Existential Uncertainty
Morality defines the parameters of equality, and a society’s morality defines to whom equality is extended. Though not all societies agree on what constitutes murder, all societies agree murder is wrong and that equality and tolerance are not to be extended to those who commit the crime. Societies readily discriminate against murderers: they are imprisoned and punished. In choosing to murder, the murderer chooses to have his or her equality denied. Yet this “discrimination” isn’t a denial of the person’s humanity; on the contrary, equality is denied precisely because the society so respects humanity and autonomy that it creates a system of laws in order to preserve humanity and to bestow individuals with the choice and ability to give their humanity up in breaking those laws. This possible denial and the consequences are a sign of respect: individual autonomy is so cherished that the individual may choose to efface it (though this isn’t to say societies desire unlawful action). In other words, the individual is free (to be free) from freedom.
Only in a society (with law) is the “freedom to give up freedom” possible, for where there are no laws, individuals must be free (and so cannot be free from freedom).¹ In this sense, humans cannot be as free outside society as they can be within it; furthermore, freedom cannot be as meaningful, for those who must be free cannot necessarily be defined from those who choose to be free. Forced freedom can cause existential uncertainty, and arguably the one who must be free is not as free as the one who can give up that freedom. Where there is no society, individuals cannot choose liberty — not to say people always like this choice.
The fact that humans are imprisoned for murder while animals are not isn’t because the society values animals above humans, but exactly the opposite. Because animals are denied equality with humans (at least on a societal level), animals cannot be imprisoned; animals are utterly free: they can murder and eat one another, violate one another’s private property, etc., and not be punished by a court of law. Hence, imprisonment, laws, etc., things often viewed as what violates equality and human dignity, can be present precisely because human dignity is valued. Without them, humans might prove less definable from animals.
I
We don’t simply want equality; we want “good equality.” Humans don’t want to be equal with monsters, for humans don’t want to feel equivalent to monsters. There seems to be two ways to go about accomplishing this: claiming monsters don’t exist, or creating a system in which monsters can be defined from humans (though admittedly no system is perfect). Without laws, the immoral cannot readily be defined from the moral socially, and so it cannot be said to whom equality is due and to whom equality isn’t due. Consequently, equality becomes empty or at least cannot be called good: if murderers are treated the same as saints, arguably being a saint is meaningless, as is being a murderer.
Now, a saint is arguably a saint because he or she treats a murderer well despite the murderer’s shortcomings (anyone can treat “good people” well), but that’s not the same as saying that a murderer doesn’t have shortcomings at all or that these shortcomings should be ignored (in fact, pretending that they don’t exist could be to deny saints the opportunity to prove themselves as saints, which isn’t to say there wouldn’t be saints without laws, only that it would be more difficult to define them as such). Equality that erases distinctions is very different from equality that overcomes distinctions; the first is meaningless and hard to define from nothingness (or non-distinction), while the second is good. In defining to whom equality is to be extended, laws help make equality good. Where there is lawlessness, there is equality as there is freedom, but both can prove devoid of meaning and desirability. This isn’t to say every law is good, that courts are perfect, or that laws cannot be used for evil, but that laws seem necessary (to some degree) to make freedom and equality desirable (everyone might be equal and free in anarchy, but everyone also lives in fear, chaos, and anxiety). Where freedom and equality are not desirable, it might prove rational to vote, work, and will them away.
To discriminate against those who murder isn’t bad, for what discriminates in favor of the good is good (not that this is easy to identify). Furthermore, where there is no discrimination, there is little “meaningful” difference between good and evil, but on this point someone might claim that “discrimination” and “distinction” shouldn’t be used like similes. Often, when people discuss discrimination, they mean “immoral distinction,” but I fear that this definition requires the assumption of a worldview, and what is a “distinction” for one person could be a “discrimination” to another. Practically, the act of “drawing a distinction” and “discriminating” are extremely similar and perhaps identical, and I fear that treating the terms as “clearly distinct” has contributed to us failing to identify a severe sociological problem that this paper hopes to elucidate. Yes, we can arguably draw a line between “discrimination” and “distinction,” but this paper will argue we need to see the terms without that clear distinction present to understand something important.
Discrimination against what isn’t immoral is arguably immoral, for it is a denial of a person’s humanity that the individual has not chosen to give up (in concordance with the society’s laws). In other words, “immoral discrimination” is to violate an individual’s freedom to deny his or her own humanity by denying that humanity against that individual’s own will. It is to take away one’s freedom to give up freedom (axiomatic). While laws set parameters by which we can maintain our humanity, “immoral discrimination” forces us to give it up.
The basis for equality is a human’s free ability to give up his or her freedom, a free ability that is needed so that freedom doesn’t alienate. Without laws, humans would be forced to be free, and where freedom is limitless, freedom can prove void. Yes, perhaps in a forest we wouldn’t have to work a job we hated, but we also couldn’t escape the constant feeling of being in danger to the elements, nor could we feel like we had a way to rise above the animals (and at least work provides us an opportunity for retirement). Likewise, without limits to equality, equality wouldn’t be good, for we would be socially equivalent to those who did terrible things to others: “equality” and “permissiveness” would feel like similes. And yet limits on equality are what equality seeks to deconstruct. Freedom and equality are given substance through law, yet laws are the very things which can impede them.
II
As what constitutes desirable equality is relative to morality, so likewise desirable diversity is relative to what we believe is right and wrong. If we want diversity, we want to be diverse amongst those who we consider moral: we don’t want to be diverse with KKK members, Nazis, etc. We feel no moral obligation to be inclusive of those whom we believe are immoral (and arguably shouldn’t); in fact, we can feel a moral obligation to exclude them, believing including them would be to approve of their immorality. When it comes to obviously immoral groups like the Nazis, this “good exclusion” isn’t a problem, but the passionate disagreement begins when it comes to excluding those who some consider moral and others immoral. Like equality, to wade through these difficult waters, diversity requires either “free exchange” or law (as we’ll discuss), both of which come with their own risks.
As we don’t want equality with murderers lest equality not be good, so we don’t want to accept murder lest acceptance becomes evil. As we don’t think it’s wrong to deny equality to those who are immoral, so we don’t think it is immoral to act intolerant toward those who we think are intolerant. In a sense, we believe it’s just to treat the intolerant with intolerance, and in such a “just” act, our expressions of intolerance hide themselves from us behind “justice,” in the same way as does our acts of denying equality to the immoral. Intolerance often hides itself in the act of being expressed: it is self-concealing. This doesn’t mean we should tolerate evil, but that we have a problem if overcoming injustice requires those who commit the injustice to realize that they are committing injustice and in the wrong.
If someone spits on a crucifixion, a Christian could think the person should be punished with a big fine, while the person spitting on the crucifixion might believe mockery and slander are necessary to awaken people from out of a cult (rational argument doesn’t work). If someone believes that people with higher IQs should finance Universal Basic Income to those with lower IQs, seeing as the society unfairly privileges IQ, this individual might see their position as highly ethical, while other people might see it as radically discriminatory and ineffective (the high IQ people will leave for another country, unless perhaps travel is made illegal…). The person who believes high IQ people should pay this money is not likely to change their perspective through argument, but if suddenly their child were to turn out to have a high IQ and struggle to pay her mortgage (for example), the person may have a change of heart. Until the person’s own child turned out to have a high IQ, the possible discrimination of the person’s original idea was “self-concealed” to him; then, due to a (nonrational) experience, the person saw problems which were always lurking. On the other hand, someone reading this may think it’s a great idea to make people with high IQs pay higher taxes, for according to their axioms freedom is irrelevant without fairness.
Even if no law is passed which forces high IQ people to pay fines or higher taxes, someone who holds corresponding beliefs will easily act differently around high IQ people. He might not be interested in the conversation; he might “be busy” to attend parties; he might keep checking his phone. When people hold certain views about justice, it’s not that they will necessarily attack or try to imprison people who disagree; rather, they might not socially engage in the same way. This might make interactions with that person less fulfilling, and so those interactions might weaken and relationships dissolve. Separation and atomization might occur, which suggests why a nation with different axioms, “givens,” and notions of “the good” will prove fragile. It is simply “existentially exhausting” to be around people who don’t share our worldview, for the very act of being around them can make us reflect on how our worldview might “just be a worldview,” which is destabilizing. Furthermore, it is hard to “put on a face” for people who we think might be supporting an injustice, or at least not fighting one — in fact, interacting with such a person might be contributing to the injustice. And so the social order might weaken.
III
Equality is not extended to the immoral and/or those who break the law, and though not all immorality is necessarily illegal, laws and morality often blur. On the level of the State, laws are the boundaries of general equality, while morality more so constitutes the boundaries of equality on the individual level. What laws the State decides to pass tend to mirror the moral convictions of the people, but not always or absolutely. It is immoral on an individual level to lie, but not always immoral on a societal level. It depends. However, please note that without law at all it would not be possible for a person to choose to act in a way that surrendered his or her “moral equality” with others, which could reduce the meaning of that equality, so I want to stress again that this is not a “free exchange versus law”-conversation. Both are needed, and that is the problem.
Because of this contingency and disconnect, it is important that laws not try to replace morality, but rather be the parameters in which free individuals can determine and live out morality (and so have equality extended to them). When laws and individual moralities overlap, it’s a secondary matter versus primary. More so than a matter of ethics, a primary point of laws is to trace out “the best point of trade-off” between freedom and equality. Ideally, laws define the precise point where immorality/legality is to begin and end so that individual liberty is maximized, but rarely are laws ideal.
It can be moral to let people define morality for themselves, but such “macro-morality” exists on the social-level more than individually. “Moral laws” let people define morality, not because there isn’t absolute morality, but because it is up to people to determine if such is the case. If the people can’t, they can’t readily be free, for a necessary element of freedom is the ability to define and pursue “the good.” Where the standards by which it is determined to whom equality and/or human rights are to be extended are constantly changing, there are no parameters in which freedom can be developed and/or defined. There is chaos, and though like freedom, in being unlimited, it is meaningless, random, and socially destructive.
How do we determine when morality and laws (should) cross? We don’t need to: the point of laws isn’t to punish the immoral so much as it is to define the “socially immoral,” which are those who violate the principles necessary to preserve a dynamic system in which the good can be determined by individuals. But what is that dynamic system? Well, it could be called “the free market,” but no doubt that this language connotes negativity. It is important to note that “the free market” is a market of ideas before it is a market of services and products, for the latter is impossible without the former (everything that “is” was first an idea). It is unfortunate that the term “free market” is used to refer to business and Conservative values, because now we lack a widely-known phrase to refer to “an arena of decisions, creativity, and experimentation.” If rather people used the phrase “the free laboratory” or “free exchange,” perhaps people would be less resistant to what “free market” is meant to refer to, but I’m not sure. Still, in hopes of avoiding emotional resistance and misunderstanding, from this point on, the phrase “free exchange” will be used in place of “free market.”
Furthermore, in preparation for future points, it should be noted that there are levels of necessary “existential uncertainty” (such as in regard to whether or not someone would kill us if it wasn’t against the law). Since it is illegal, we can never know for sure that those around us truly don’t want to murder us. However, without such laws, there would be no dynamic system at all, and so the uncertainty is necessary. It is important that “necessary existential uncertainty” is defined from “unnecessary uncertainty,” but how might one determine that distinction? It’s up to the dynamic system and what makes that system possible. Without “free exchange,” the necessary and the unnecessary cannot be determined — though that’s not to say there are ever any guarantees.
IV
“Free exchange” is the dynamic process through which the good is determined (through testing) by individuals. This process is a necessary process, for everyone thinks the good is self-evident, for everyone’s good is self-evident to them. If we like fishing, it is “self-evident” that fishing is good, because it is evident to us; obviously though, not everyone is us, and so we can’t say that everyone likes fishing. This isn’t to say there is no such thing as “the good,” but that what constitutes the good is a complicated matter. There are general goods such as the good of “everyone being able to desire their own good,” but there are also subjective goods like tastes and preferences. Without more “objective goods,” there can be no subjective goods, as nothing can be relative which lacks a thing to be relative to. Yet, at the same time, more objective goods “look like” merely subjective goods, and determining which is which, regardless, requires going through individual preferences, and “free exchange” is where that testing and “going through” can take place.
Laws are to set the parameters in which “free exchange” can best sort out “the good” from “the bad,” and laws that try to replace “free exchange” tend to cause “immoral discrimination.” This isn’t to say that “free exchange” is perfect, only that it is a dynamic system, while laws are more stagnant. Without a solid framework though, a dynamic system can devolve into chaos, so “free exchange” needs laws as laws need “free exchange.” Not because “free exchange” is better than laws, but because the decision-making processes of millions of individuals tend to be more accurate than the decision-making processes of a few (on behalf of those millions). “Free exchange” decentralizes decision-making, and the more people who make decisions, the higher the probability good decisions gradually rise to the surface.
When decisions are decentralized, the more decisions can be made without a given decision “tearing down the whole system,” and so the higher the probability good decisions eventually emerge and build upon one another, increasing the efficiency of the whole process through time. It takes time to determine the good and to create goods which mirror it, and the more time people have, the more decisions which can be made. As long as no single decision can ruin it for everyone, it’s only a matter of time before good socioeconomic decisions arise (for no one makes decisions thinking they’re bad, but only time and consequences can unveil what’s more likely the case). Most people seem to be relatively good at discerning good decisions from bad decisions, and so when good decisions are made, people tend to be “attracted” to them; furthermore, people are good at determining “wealth” from “non-wealth,” for humans are usually experts at discerning what improves the quality of their own lives.
Everyone thinks their view and their product is good (by definition), so there needs to be a system (framed by laws) in which ideas and products can be tested, which is to say there needs to be an arena of “free exchange.” Furthermore, there needs to be a system in which people can “vote” for what they think is indeed the best product and indeed the best idea, and this is a function of money. A dollar is a ballot. To spend money at McDonalds today at 2PM is to say that the best “good” for 2PM today is “eating at McDonalds,” though whether or not this is right, only the spender is in a position to say. Similarly, a political arena functions as a similar testing ground, but there is a difference between voting once a year and “voting for what we think is the best vacuum and using it,” per se. One-on-one interaction has a higher probability of accuracy than distant assessment, not because the latter is necessarily wrong, but because it’s simply a matter of probability that we make right decisions more so regarding what we are familiar with on a day-to-day basis than in regard to what we hardly interact with or directly experience. We vote in politics, but it is likely our “votes count” regarding what we more directly experience.
“Free exchange” helps distinguish the good from the bad, though no one can say for sure at a given point which is which overall: there’s only the decision making of each, particular individual in his or her particular world, doing the best that individual can. In the end, everyone benefits from the best efforts of all. It is tempting here to skip this endless process and lay down a universal law — fear and/or a sense of justice make this hard to resist. But this “top-down approach” would circumvent the very process through which “what is best” can be determined; ironically, the very act to “do what’s best” can be the act which makes “doing what’s best” indeterminable. Yet, since “free exchange” is an organic system of disorder that gives rise to profoundly complex order, it looks passive and even impartial to “the good.” The “top-down approach,” seemingly “doing something,” is then rationally embarked upon to straighten everything out. However, we can never see the whole sea: the act of looking is the act of shrinking.
Considering this, if a social order begins to dissolve (say perhaps because “givens” collapse), it is unlikely that a “top-down approach” would be able to solve the problem without causing grave unintentional consequences. We need processes by which people can organize themselves, and if that system leads to people organizing themselves negatively, only the people can likely fix their situation (which they might not). Unfortunately, the brain itself seems biased toward “initiative” and a prejudice against passivity, which makes us culturally against “free exchange” and in favor of legal force (meaning we are naturally primed to turn to law to solve the sociological problems discussed in Belonging Again). We often think of “taking action”’ as better than “doing nothing,” when in fact “doing nothing” could be the right course. If a worm is struggling to escape a cocoon and yet we “do nothing,” we allow the worm to become a butterfly. If though we felt we needed to “do something” and tried to help the worm (which was obviously in need of help), we’d kill it. Humans see exteriors, not interiors, and so our very reality pushes us toward activities that “look to be doing something” (as elaborated on in “Sensualization” by O.G. Rose), even when action could make things worse (a realization which can help us be more discerning). Furthermore, the Hegelian need for us to ultimately be “concrete” means we cannot just avoid action altogether (“autonomous inaction”), though that would certainly make things easier.
V
“Free exchange” is a dynamic process spread across millions of individuals making millions if not billions of decisions that organically arises to a “checked and balanced” (though still possibly not optimal) result that has a high likelihood of being best (or at least the best possible in this world that we can recognize as “likely the best”). This notion is deeply inspired, and expanded upon, by Friedrich Hayek, and he basically argues that “I’d rather ask an idiot who’s eaten at a restaurant if it’s good than an Einstein who’s never visited.” This isn’t to say there is no place for the genius and/or intellectual, only that the ideas of the genius should not be the default standard of what is right, but instead they should be presented to the people (versus “pressed down upon” them) to be processed perhaps billions of times over so that the “best chance at being the best ideas” can gradually, freely, and organically change culture. Einstein may say the restaurant was fantastic, but until many more people try out the restaurant (a form of processing), a reliable and un-alienating consensus about it cannot be readily established.
“Free exchange” acknowledges, as Hans-Georg Gadamer wrote about in Truth and Method, that there is “no one rule book for every board game”: as you cannot use the rules of monopoly for chess, you cannot use the rules, principles, theories, etc. of one person’s life for another (just compare a sarcastic conversation with a non-sarcastic conversation about the same subject). There are differences, not because there is no truth, but because there are different rules for how actuality is approached relative to one’s starting point. What’s tricky though is that there has to be enough “shared rules” through law so that relation and society are possible, which is metaphorically like saying we all have to agree it is a mountain we are climbing not an ocean we are swimming across. (And this is where the trouble lies…)
A mountain only has one summit, but based on where we start, there are different maps, and to use the map that starts on the other side of the mountain would cause us to get lost (and so think there is no summit/actuality). In “free exchange,” participants compare and trade their “maps,” and so help one another figure out which way they need to travel, relative to their life, to reach the summit. In the life into which we are “thrown” (to use an idea from Heidegger), it is not guaranteed that we start with the right map (we might and we might not). Through free exchange, testing, and experimentation, we try to find out the nature of our map. Through this process, we can provide ourselves “reason to believe” our “map” is the right (or wrong) one and to stand against “existential uncertainty.” Without such testing, even if we have “the right map,” we can never gain reason to believe our “map” is right; hence, it alienates us.
Part of the noted testing is comparison and learning from the “maps” of others. In a dynamic system, even when one does reach a conclusion, their conclusion may still be wrong, but at least the person is not declaring that “all the other maps must be (like) my map.” Those who are wrong will rather just keep going until they realize they are lost, and then they will have to take a good look and reevaluate their “map” again. In a dynamic system, they will be free to do so, and to do so for themselves. (Please note that this “testing” does not include testing out things that harm others or infringes upon the liberties of others. Of course, one must ask what constitutes these unallowable tests, and to determine that, we need a dynamic system, which of course could make mistakes and permit the horrible. And this is where trouble lies…)
“Free exchange” might seem identical to “majority rule,” but it’s different in critical and more “existentially stabilizing” ways. As already noted, “free exchange” isn’t simply a matter of one vote of each individual that occurs once every now and then, but a matter of many votes of each individual that occurs many times daily. “Free exchange” is “always taking votes,” per se, whereas an election only takes votes every two or four years. There is much more decision-making, which is why it is more dynamic. Furthermore, it overcomes bad ideas not through outlawing them, but through testing and competition. All of us want mental balance, and we all naturally come up with explanations and rationalizations to achieve it — and there are no angles we won’t take that aren’t unambiguously denied to us (meaning the State might not be in the best position to stop us, as we’ll discuss). If we don’t get the lead part in the play, we can say it’s because we weren’t feeling good or because we didn’t want it; if I get fired from my job, it’s because my boss hates me. The human is a master at creating explanations, and since this is so, a dynamic system is needed to test and challenge explanations. Without this system, there is only rationalization, whether true or false, and rationalization leads to people splintering apart into “tribes” which share their rationalization.
Sure, all well and good, but isn’t “free exchange” often slower than law and full of the good, the bad, and the ugly? Probably, though a dynamic system is needed to claim what constitutes “too slow” and “the good, the bad, and the ugly,” though regardless, “free exchange” is necessary. Are there mistakes in a dynamic system? Absolutely: if we remove laws against drugs, for example, there will be unintended consequences — but that is precisely a reason to seek a dynamic system. There are always unintended consequences, but in a dynamic system, we can learn from them and quickly adapt. However, in a stagnant system, such as those created by the State and its laws, unintended consequences are made (more) permanent. In a dynamic system, the unintended consequences of drugs occur and are countered; in a stagnant system, the unintended consequences occur and continue. The consequences may even be moralized, making them nearly impossible to fix. However, a dynamic system may also erase the good, move on, and never look back at what was lost (say in the case of “givens”).
“Free exchange” follows the causality of “high order complexity” (as explored in “Experiencing Thinking” by O.G. Rose), and so when someone says, “We should rely on free exchange,” what they are suggesting cannot be readily grasped. What they are asking for sounds like faith, for “free exchange” cannot be conceptualized, only experienced, and thus there seems to be no rational or empirical reason to give it a shot. And in fact, by such standards, it would seem to be irrational. And so “free exchange,” driven by rationality, is resisted by rationality. “Free exchange” seems like “doing nothing,” which cannot be conceptualized, and so we will likely gravitate toward comprehensible acts of “taking initiative” (as similarly outlined in “Concerning Epistemology” by O.G. Rose). This being the case, when faced with the sociological problems explored in “Belonging Again,” we might be tempted to turn to the State or law to fix our situation, for not doing so could feel like “doing nothing.” And indeed, there are no guarantees that “free exchange” will address our problems (especially if it is operating according to A/A versus A/B). A dynamic system is no more dynamic than its agents: the higher the critical thinking, the more dynamic the people, but where there is no critical thinking, even where there is utter liberty, the dynamic system might not function, not because it cannot work, but because it is not powered to do so, like a functional, unplugged television (or a dysfunctional, plugged in television). Still, the State can only act in a manner that creates ambiguity (as we’ll discuss), and if “existential anxiety” is at the root of our problem, this is not a solution.
To allude to Antifragile by Nassim Taleb and “The Creative Concord” by O.G. Rose, “free exchange” is a system in which disorder can make it stronger (assuming creativity is present), and though most use this idea regarding innovation and economics, the idea might also apply to morality. As the more businesses are allowed to fail, the more creativity and innovation can manifest, likewise the more people are allowed to “pursue their idea of the good” and have that idea confirmed or deconstructed, the more morality and justice will manifest. We simply don’t know “what is the good” with absolute certainty, and so we have to experiment, test, and make mistakes, and as long as those attempts do not “tear down the whole system” or ruin others, those mistakes could be allowed. But doesn’t that mean we allow “bad things to happen?” Isn’t that monstrous? Indeed, it can be monstrous to let businesses fail, but for an antifragile system, a lack of failure destroys it.
Few if anyone thinks they worsen injustice: unless depraved, they do not define their actions as such, or otherwise they would stop. Most everyone agrees that injustice and “immoral discrimination” are wrong; the real disagreements concern how discrimination is to be prevented and what constitutes discrimination. Furthermore, if people are told what constitutes injustice, versus be convinced of it, they can grow resentful and rebel. However, at the same time, there are plenty of examples in history where people believed something was good that was actually oppressive, and it was important for the State to use law to force people to change their ways. But this presents us with a severe dilemma…
“Free exchange” is a process by which people test their “ideas of their good” and are gradually convinced of their rightness and wrongness. This is an existential process, and it allows people to shift their views or maintain views that can help them feel comfortable with changing their views, or can help them feel comfortable in keeping their views. It is not possible for us to objectively justify “human rights,” but if “free exchange” supports and maintains “humans rights,” then it becomes easier to believe that “humans rights” are probably right and good. Similarly, if we grow up believing that women shouldn’t work, but then through a process of “free exchange” we see that women can work and even are better off for the chance, we can emotionally and psychologically shift from our view at a rate we can handle. If we are told to “change our view” immediately at the onset, without a gradual process of existential adjustment, we might harden and become adamant in our position. If this were to occur, though I originally would have changed my position through time, now I might not. But what if I held a view that men are superior to women and that men have a right to mistreat women? Are we really going to allow me to “gradually change my views” through a process as I prove existentially ready for it? Isn’t this unjust? Indeed, here we allude to the problem outlined in “The Death of Process” by O.G. Rose.
As the main function of science isn’t so much to verify truth as it is to provide “a sense of actuality” (against existential uncertainty and doubt) through falsification, so the main function of “free exchange” isn’t just to verify “what’s best,” but to provide solid enough of a sense of “what’s the case” that we aren’t anxious and always doubting it. Yes, this runs the risk of us having confidence in something wrong, but that risk is necessary: to do away with it would require a system of verification that would inevitably fail. Quicker than “free exchange,” law can be used to force people to change their views, but it runs the risk of trying to change people before they are ready (through gaining “existential confidence”), which could cause a backlash. Considering this, it’s possible that a law passed to stop an injustice could end up causing more of that very injustice. However, society also needs law, and there are also times where law was needed to stop racism, violence, and the like — we face a difficult “trade-off of competing goods.”
VI
Though perhaps idealistic, the most “antifragile”-way to overcome immorality and injustice isn’t through outlawing them but allowing individuals to dynamically and “freely” change their behavior on their own. Where this is not done and law is instead employed, people might not be internally changed, and in fact the legal action could make people more bigoted. Not necessarily, since “law teaches,” but law might just teach people that the State is delegitimate — hard to say. However, where law isn’t employed, citizens can unambiguously prove to one another that they refuse intolerance and immoral discrimination not because they are afraid of the law, but because they truly believe in justice. In a world where people were free to be unjust and there was no injustice, we’d have strong reason to believe injustice was declining, while in a world where injustice was illegal, we’d be unsure — there would be anxiety. Of course, in a world where injustice was illegal, there would be truly humble and moral people, but the issue is that people would struggle to know with confidence that these individuals were truly against injustice: there would always be the possibility that they only acted as such because of the law. The individuals could only prove themselves if the laws were removed, but who could remove the laws without being seen as supporting immorality and injustice?
Hypothetically, if it was illegal for people to tell one another, “I hate you,” then if people never said this to us, there would be uncertainty regarding if people never said this because they really didn’t hate us, or if they didn’t say this because they feared breaking the law. Yes, the law would reduce the amount of times people said, “I hate you,” to one another, but it would not necessarily reduce the worry that “I am hated”; in fact, it could make people start doubting if they were really loved by the people who never said, “I hate you,” precisely because there would always be the ambiguity regarding the reason for the lack of the statement. In this way, law can create ambiguity, but then again it is also the case that a society without law devolves into turmoil.
Where it is illegal to say, “I hate you,” then it is not clear if statements of hate lessen because people have chosen to stop being hateful, which means we cannot become less sure of “what’s really going on” inside the heads of others (causing “metamentality”). Sure, people don’t say to us, “I hate you,” but they might want to and only can’t because of law. Uncertainty and anxiety can grow, and in this way law can increase fragility, all while also perhaps teaching people to be fragile in themselves (seeing as law teaches, as Robert George notes). On this point, Jean Baudrillard, author of Simulacra and Simulation, admonished that our age was one where “the fake” and “the real” had mixed like milk and dye, so much so that it was impossible now for us to even say there was ever such thing as “the real” to die (there was only ever “the mixture”). I agree with Baudrillard, which I think entails implications for societies trying to recognize and stop injustice while also not worsening “existential anxiety.” For Baudrillard, it is not “given” where reality starts and ends (and so we cannot say it starts anywhere — we seem stuck in “a copy without an original”), and likewise without “societal givens,” we cannot easily say where we act justly and where we act immorally: we’re all “(im)moral.” Indeed, we arguably always have been this, but having to face this reality and learning to live with the ambiguity is very challenging. If the majority cannot handle this tension, Pluralism seems destined to fail.
A concern about “internal immorality” can be overcome when people feel that others “genuinely” and/or “really” accept those of whom were once mistreated. But if today “the real is dead” and there are less widely-shared “givens,” there might not be a “real” or “agreed upon” standard against which we can determine if people are no longer immoral (a grave challenge explored in both “Collective Consciousness and Trust” and “Scripted,” which also suggests “Concerning Epistemology” if the loss of “givens” and “reality” lead to anxiety and fear). “The death of the real” generates existential uncertainty, and where societal “givens” are gone and/or dynamic processes of “falsification” are limited, it is not “given” what constitutes reality. In line with the thought of Karl Popper, it cannot be truly falsified if a person is unjust or not, as it cannot be verified if a person isn’t unjust (for example, a bigot could pretend to not be a bigot, as someone who isn’t a bigot could pretend to be a bigot). But where there is a test, “a sense of reality” can better be “confidently approached.” In an age when “the real is dead,” it seems especially necessary to exercise such a test, and though it won’t work perfectly, it could at least provide a way to try to separate “the milk and dye.” However, are there any guarantees such a test will work? Not at all, especially not if people reason according to A/A versus A/B, fail to be “Absolute Knowers,” implement “dominate strategies in conversation” — a dynamic system is only a space in which improvement might occur, but that is a topic which requires more elaboration (all of Belonging Again (Part II), arguably).
Anyway, if a presence of laws against injustice caused people to become more unjust in reaction against the ambiguity, then arguably the laws meant to stop injustice are themselves unjust. This is a strange paradox, but if we are to take seriously this possibility, we may support laws on grounds of intention versus outcome. Furthermore, if laws are passed to end injustice which teach people to act unjustly, then even if those laws are removed, people might be trained into habits that will not easily break — truly passing law should be taken with great seriousness. If a law is passed that suggests “no one should be baptized before eighteen,” and Christians come to believe the State should be opposed and destroyed (which could cause horrors and injustices across the nation), then even if the State removes the law, it might take Christians a decade before they trust the State again. During that time, the social order could be more fragile.
Considering this, it might be nice to believe that we should never pass laws and remove them entirely. “Existential ambiguity” would be removed, but we might only be “existentially certain” that the social order was awful. “All law” or “all free exchange” are not answers to our troubles, which means society must be dialectical (A/B) — which is very difficult. Further complicating our problem, if the State makes it illegal not to do something unjust, the government can at the same time transform the meaning of doing something just. This is similar to how money can transform the way people engage with certain activities, as argued in What Money Can’t Buy by Michael Sandel. For example, it has been found that if you ask people not to be late to pick up their children, they will do their best to arrive on time, but if you impose a fine for being late, they will actually be late more often, simply viewing the situation in terms of money and not in terms of morality. When it comes to making illegal a certain injustice, the risk is that something similar occurs: acting justly becomes “a legal matter” not a moral matter, and so people can doubt that those around them have undergone a “moral change.” This can generate anxiety and distrust, and as argued in “On Trust” by O.G. Rose, society without trust seems doomed. Habits will then develop in which people get used to living without trust, and habits are hard to break. Arguably, a culture is most fundamentally its habits, which brings to mind something Charles Duhigg wrote: ‘[m]ovements don’t emerge because everyone suddenly decides to face the same direction at once. They rely on social patterns that begin as the habits of friendship, grow through the habits of communities, and are sustained by new habits that change participants’ sense of self.’²
VII
An important element of freedom is for people to be able to define/realize morality, and hence to define the limits of equality — which means that a part of freedom is something incredibly risky. As long as people are not harming others, the people should generally be left alone to define things how they will. Within a notion of the good, everyone is expanded equality, so it is easy to forget that the parameters of equality are where morality stops and immorality begins. This limit exists both on an individual and a societal level; for individuals, “free exchange” is the dynamic process in which people can define the non-fixed limit for themselves. On the societal level, through laws, the limit must be fixed upon where individual liberty is maximized (which, unfortunately, is not self-evident). Humans are imperfect, so where this “optimal point” lies is not easy to determine; therefore, there must be a process in which laws can be changed and moved. That said, laws are to remain more fixed than fluid, because individuals, incredibly fluid, need that rigidity to avoid spiraling off into alienating chaos. And yet at the same time these laws must provide a framework that contains the fluid and more chaotic process of “free exchange,” which will easily resent the legal framework and try to break it down — a tense and difficult paradox.
People are dynamic and require a dynamic system in which to flourish, and what can violate human rights is that which does not uphold the framework in which humans can define for themselves what constitutes “human rights” and “the good life” (a strange paradox, A/B). Yes, force seems quicker and necessary when faced with an emergency, but force entails its own risks. If it is urgent that one reaches the bottom of a cliff, though jumping is quicker, the long way can still be the only way. Still, we would be foolish not to acknowledge some problems and risks involved with relying on “an emergent and dynamic system” to generate “metaphysical values” which stabilize us, and indeed history is a story of these risks.
Definition begets oppression. There is indeed active oppression, but there is also institutional oppression that causes harm (though this might incubate and “teach” more direct oppression). However, institutional oppression is what occurs against murderers, which is an accepted practice — so what “institutional oppression” should be established and which shouldn’t? Again, a dynamic process is needed where ideas and premises arise and can be tested by countless individuals billions of times over in countless different ways and in countless different scenarios. “Free exchange” through time seems to be a society’s best way to manage the problem of uncertainty, and as science overcomes “existential anxiety” through repetition, testing, and falsification, so “free exchange” can do the same. Unfortunately, the effectiveness of “free exchange” involving metaphysics is likely less versus when concerned with more-physical subjects.
Again, we do not think of ourselves as oppressors for imprisoning murderers, though we do in a way oppress. Not all oppression is necessarily immoral, but not all oppression is moral either. Throughout history, there have been plenty of groups which have been immorally denied equality, and though their oppressors held a morality that did not make them oppressors, the oppressors were still immoral. But how does a society go about deciding which oppression is moral and which oppression is immoral? A philosophical revolution is an option, but in which environment are philosophical revolutions best incubated? “Free exchange” seems to be the best environment, but can’t bad ideas also emergently and organically arise? Indeed, they can — we should not assume “emergence” will save us. Perhaps it is much more likely that “free exchange” economically and technologically brings about more “good emergence” than bad, precisely because these products and outcomes can be more readily tested against the facticity of the world (if someone invents a new coffeemaker, we can “test it” in the context of our morning routine to see if it improves the experience). The meaning of facticity is certainly a matter of interpretation, but the facticity itself is a more “object-based” and shared across subjects, and so “emergences” which can be tested in and according to facticity is much more likely to be more “good” than “bad” (generally because people must hold “good motivations” and must be motivated to improve their daily lives). This isn’t to say technologies and economic outcomes must be good, but it is to say they are easier to test and compare across millions of people.
However, “metaphysical emergences” like values and worldviews are far harder to “test,” and so the probability that “metaphysical emergences” are bad is higher than “more-physical emergences.” This isn’t to say they cannot be tested at all, but it’s easier to find “tribes” of people who share x metaphysical value (which say emerged in the 1980s with a new interpretation of Revelation), which though opposed by people outside that group, those in that group themselves don’t readily have experiences which force them to deconstruct x metaphysical value (and so they can produce and protect x value through isolationism). If I’m trying to determine if a coffeepot works, facticity itself applies to a small group just as much as it does a large group or a lone individual, and though there will be variations of judgment, the point is that isolationism and “confirmation bias” isn’t so much at play. For all these reasons, the likelihood that “bad metaphysical emergences” arise is higher than “bad more-physical emergences” (I stress though, bad technological emergences are possible, as could occur with “The Singularity,” though we’ll see).
It is likely meaningless to tell oppressors that they oppress, for they likely hold a morality in which they do nothing wrong, defining those they oppress as either immoral or inhuman. We can either beat them in the arena of “free exchange” or turn to the State (with our minds naturally favoring the directness of the State), though the effectiveness of “free exchange” working in metaphysical areas is less than in more-physical matters which can be tested against facticity. However, no emergent result is necessarily for the best, but we also cannot say such a result is for the worse. Ultimately, no one can say “for sure” which is the case, but upon the basis of the billions of decisions of “free exchange,” we at least have a justified reason to believe that the conclusions that arises from this dynamic, decision-making process are “most likely best” — and yet we cannot be certain of this, thus meaning there is always some space to oppose “free exchange.” We can never take it for granted, for we cannot assume its rightness.
VIII
Where there is no equality, there is no discrimination, which is to say there is no need for discrimination to justify injustice in a nation that doesn’t believe people should be treated equally. Thus, we cannot assume that an absence of discrimination is an absence of injustice, but likewise we cannot assume that a presence of discrimination isn’t seen as “discrimination” because of a background of justice (moral shortcoming could be evidence of moral evolution — though there is danger in such a thought causing complacency). This being the case, a system of “free exchange” can prove useful to help us better assess “what’s what” (with more “confidence”), seeing as it is not evident if injustice is only such thanks to assumptions of justice, or if a sense of justice is only thanks to an inability to identify injustice. It’s all mixed and unclear, and it can be tempting when faced with this ambiguity to use law to sort it all out — but unfortunately law generates its own ambiguity.
We are partly equal in that everyone can give up their equality through free acts, which suggests the necessity of both a legal framework and system of “free exchange.” If we had only “free exchange,” it would not be possible for me to do something “against the law” which caused me to voluntarily surrender my equality, and in such a circumstance equality would be meaningless and not really “a right,” but more so “the state of things” (all would be equal in anarchy). However, if we only had legality and were “all equal under the absolute law,” this equality would likely not be good to us and would rather feel oppressive and a source of misery. For us to feel free and for that freedom to be good, we require a mixture of “free exchange” and law, but that means we must manage an unstable state.
Where there is instability, there is anxiety, and if we need instability that means we need anxiety (strangely enough). We cannot escape existential anxiety and uncertainty entirely (and shouldn’t want to): the question is only if we will primarily face it individually or collectively. Freedom is existentially difficult for individuals (hence why we can want to “escape from freedom,” just like Erich Fromm discussed), and yet “free exchange” can generate more “existentially stable” outcomes for people. Law, on the other hand, can free individuals of existential anxiety, but law can create overall results for the collective which feel more fragile and are more prone to cause “existential anxiety.” Hence, it seems we have to choose between facing anxiety on the onset for long-term stability or avoiding anxiety in our immediacy at the cost of long-term instability. At the same time, if there are no “givens,” the amount and severity of the anxiety and uncertainty which individuals must face in “free exchange” might simply prove too much to handle for the average person to resist the temptation of “overfitting law” to bring about stability. Furthermore, it’s not “self-evident” what even constitutes “overfitting law,” and so it can easily seem responsible and a “rational course of action” to extend and apply law when faced with a society where “givens” have been deconstructed. The severity of the anxiety certainly makes it feel rational, after all.
Are we saying the State is always in the wrong? Not at all. In India, there was once a practice where if a husband died, his wife would throw herself upon the funeral pyre and burn to death. She was often pressured by the community to do this, and “practically” had no choice on the matter. Wasn’t it right for the State to outlaw this practice so that this social pressure would abate? Yes, for it appears to be a violation of self-ownership, but a “dynamic system” would be needed to tell and to change the hearts of the people from wanting to do the practice at all. Government is necessary, for without it, there can be no “free exchange,” only chaos. However, with too much of it, “free exchange” won’t work. And ultimately who cares for “existential stability” if it requires the sacrifice of women on funeral pyres. That is basically “a sacrificial ritual” for our own stability, is it not? Indeed, to keep such a circumstance from arising, the State must be present, but that means we are always in danger. We must discern each situation and balance between “free exchange and the State” issue by issue, but that will require great intellectual and mental work, and we are likely to become tired with time. Tired, we might find ourselves tempted to fold.
IX
With each worldview, systems of “givens,” ideology, etc., there is a different sense of what constitutes ethics, and thus a different sense of how and to whom equality should be extended. To keep these differences from making society unlivable, a framework of law is established that provides “shared rules” across worldviews, and though no doubt many of the rules will be opposed and disliked, the State seeks to establish laws which people can live with, and if they fail the society could devolve into anarchy. If the State succeeds, society is possible.
The less diversity and Pluralism, the easier it is for the State to find a “sweet spot” between law and “free exchange” (which is to say a space in which people can decide their values for themselves). When a society is divided between Methodists, Baptists, and Presbyterians, it’s easier to create laws that don’t feel like they are “overreaching” to people, versus when the society is divided between Christians, Muslims, Hindus, and the like. The greater the variation in “first principles” and “fundamental beliefs,” the more difficult it is for the State to strike a balance between law and “free exchange” which makes “free exchange” possible without at the same time allowing immorality, injustice, etc. to spread. As Pluralism intensifies, this challenge will only prove harder.
Seeing as values are relative to “first principles,” it will not work simply to tell people to “support equality” or “support freedom” to fix our social ills. It will seem “self-evident” to us what these values mean, as it will seem “self-evident” that people are immoral not to support our positions, but in fact our notions of equality and freedom our necessarily situated within the terms of our “first principles” (and unless we support anarchism, everyone limits to whom they extend equality relative to how they define immorality). Thus, other people limit their extension of equality just like us, and though they draw the line in a place we think is immoral, we too still draw a line. If we tell people “not to draw lines,” we will prove hypocritical — we would instead need to enter into their worldview, ideology, or the like and make a case for the line to not be drawn at “y point” but instead “z point.” But even if we succeed at this effort in one area, could we succeed in all areas across all different worldviews? Or is this “practically impossible?” If so, then it makes sense to turn to law to more “bluntly” bring about the change we want to see (that perhaps “should” come about) — but unfortunately increases in law can threaten “free exchange” (causing ineffectiveness and anxiety) and risk totalitarianism. Entering “systems of thought” and working on them from the inside seems to be our only hope, but do people even listen to reason? Perhaps. Perhaps not.
The limits of equality are determined by morality, necessary limits which are determined and tested by the dynamic process of “free exchange.” Violations of this process are always risky even when best, and they generate ambiguity and existential anxiety. Where there is only law, society suffers under totalitarianism, but where there is only “free exchange,” society also suffers because freedom becomes chaotic, undesirable, and thus irrational. Again, a “sweet spot” must be found, but as “givens” dissolve precisely because of the forces of Pluralism, then the chaotic feeling of “free exchange” will grow, and faced with that anxiety, people will likely atomize, become reactive, and the like. To fix these problems and all the others explored in Belonging Again, it would seem logical to turn to law, seeing as law can so effectively unify people into shared “rules” and hence “shared intelligibility.” Unfortunately, “top-down methods” of regaining “shared intelligibility” are not as effective as “shared intelligibility” gained emergently, organically, and through “givens,” because law creates ambiguity. Approaching the close of this paper, with this point, we can also approach the main point I want to make that fits into the overall arch of Belonging Again.
Law generates “existential anxiety,” and so it is unlikely that law can replace “givens” and address our concerns. This applies to the State as a whole, which means “givens” are primarily a matter of culture. Culture and State blur and mix in profound ways, but they are not identical, and we cannot accomplish through the State what can only be accomplished through culture. Law teaches though, and so law forms culture, but it also forms us to believe law is culture and can do the work of culture, which is perhaps true to a degree, but when it comes to mitigating “existential anxiety” so that we avoid totalitarianism, law cannot solve the issue, because law generates uncertainty in itself. And this is the rub: law creates ambiguity, even law which helps. Thus, if ambiguity is our main problem, even law which helps will not likely help as is most needed.
If there was an “absolute ground” which unified all people, some undeniable and noncontingent truth (as perhaps sought by Analytical Philosophy before Gödel), the dilemma of balancing “free exchange” and “law” could perhaps be solved and finished. But as Derrida shows, despite philosophy’s obsession with finding it, there is no such “ground” of universal experience. Rather, there are many “grounds” of experience, as there are many rule books for different games. Because this is the case, “free exchange” is needed to determine which subjective ideas of “common ground(s)” are most “likely most actual”: without such a process, we can never know if our ideas of “possible actuality” are legitimate or empty. Even if we possess a legitimate ground, without a process of testing, we likely can never “feel confident such is the case.” Likewise, there is no “absolute identity,” “absolute interpretation,” “absolute lifestyle,” etc. If anything, there is a “absolute need for free exchange,” it seems, by which we can test and develop our “ways of life.”
Law can create existential uncertainty, which is where there might be freedom, but people won’t feel free. At the same time though, law which is unstable or ever-changing can also cause existential uncertainty, for people won’t be sure what constitutes the rules and will feel “more governed by men than law.” And where there is no law, people may be free, but they may never feel secure and safe, rendering their freedom meaningless. And this is our plight: given our problem, it might be tempting to want to believe an “absolute ground” was possible, for then we could tell ourselves that the tension between law and “free exchange” could be balanced and overcome. Where that “ground” cannot be found though, we must instead learn skills and artforms for “managing” Pluralism, which means there is no possibility of a “final resting place,” in which we could rather find a solution — the lesson/curse of Postmodernism was coming to realize and accept the impossibility of such a solution. We must work, and we must keep working (though perhaps this is optimal, seeing as it means we never have to be bored).
Law creates “existential anxiety” and hinders “free exchange,” but if it didn’t it might be possible to deal with the problems explored in the essay, “Belonging Again,” through law, which is to say we might try reestablishing and recreating lost “givens” through the State. But this will not work. Law cannot replace “givens” without causing totalitarianism and erasing diversity: law is needed for a framework, but it will not solve our current paradox, which lies in “free exchange” and how people relate. Culture must be focused on, which ultimately might mean we focus upon subjects and the great mystery of people themselves.
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Notes
¹Allusion to the work of Sartre, who claimed we are not free to not be free. In society, we can be free from freedom, hence making our individual freedom more meaningful. Yet, at the same time, society and the government can infringe upon individual liberty. Hence, government is needed, yet government needs to remain limited.
1.1Where there are no laws, “freedom toward the good” cannot be defined from “freedom toward the bad”: freedom that causes anxiety and chaos cannot be defined from freedom that gives life and joy. Freedom that gives life and joy, for example, might be getting to choose a career that we love, whereas a freedom that causes anxiety and chaos might be the choice to take drugs, resulting in addiction. Individuals are left to define which freedoms are which, but without a society, they have no standard by which to go about making decisions. In such a situation, a human is hard to define from the freest and most “un-limited” entity of all: nothingness.
²Duhigg, Charles. The Power of Habit. New York, NY. Random House, 2012: 244.
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