Freedom and Chaos
Centralized authority is a defining feature of Western liberal democracies, such as Australia. These societies are by no means totalitarian, but power within their institutions remains concentrated in the hands of a privileged few. In Australia, the government is run by the Prime Minister and his or her cabinet, corporations are under the direction of a CEO and a board of directors, universities are run by a Vice-Chancellor and an executive council, schools are run by a principal and a committee of executive teachers, and so forth. In each case, decision-making resides in an authority, which has the power to control the fate of the institution and the fate of those whose outcomes are bound up in the institution (e.g., citizens, workers, consumers, students etc.).
The legitimacy of these structures of authority is rarely questioned by those in power, for the obvious reason that existing institutions would cease to be “existing institutions” if they undermined themselves. These institutions also actively sustain themselves by propagating the belief that authority is not simply legitimate, but that it is in fact necessary for the proper functioning of the society. From an early age, children are taught that it is important to listen to and follow the instructions of their elders and parents, to defer to the powers that be, and to respect institutionalized authorities such as teachers, police officers, judges, and the offices of the Prime Minister, and the Governor-General. From these messages, children learn that others know better, and that there exists a class of intelligent and benevolent rulers who can protect them from “the rage and trampling of the bewildered herd”, as prominent public intellectual Walter Lippmann described the general population. Through the media, the population is further taught that authorities exist to protect them from external threats (such as “boat people” and other dangerous enemies), and to guide progress towards a better future (in the words of former US President Harry Truman, “where there is no leadership, society stands still”). If authority were to dissipate for whatever reason, people have been led to believe that society would naturally “descend into anarchy” until authorities “restore order” by “cracking down hard” and re-asserting themselves (ABC news, describing the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans in 2005). Within this dominant and pervasive framework, authority is equated with order, and freedom from authority is equated with chaos[1].
A question that naturally arises from this framework – which is rarely argued, but more commonly asserted or assumed – is whether freedom from authority necessarily entails a descent into disorder and chaos. Anecdotally, there appears to be no reason to equate the two concepts, despite the widespread acceptance of their association. Almost all the day-to-day interactions between people occur without domination by one party over the other and without formal structures of authority to manage those interactions, yet these interactions almost never end in stagnation or irresolvable impasse. The end of feudalism, slavery, absolutism, apartheid, and the continuing struggles to end domination of women by men, and of workers by their bosses are all characterized by challenges to structures of authority, and all have resulted in a better world, rather than a worse one. And the goat track – that potent symbol of bottom-up co-ordination that is the central metaphor of this blog – also implies that authority is not a necessary precursor to stability and structure.
At a more theoretical level, the same conclusions follow. A state of freedom – characterized by respect for the dignity of the individual, individual agency free of coercion, and distributed power – need not be equated with disorder, because there exist natural constraints – emanating from our shared experience of living in the same world and our shared characteristics as human beings – that limit the range of possible outcomes, guiding us away from absolute, unstructured chaos. At a very basic level, all human beings share the same universe – with the same physical laws – and the same planet – with the same manifestations of those laws. More meaningfully, all human beings share the same basic biology. We all (with a few exceptions) have two arms and two legs, a head, a heart, and the same set of internal organs. We all (again with a few exceptions) have a desire for survival, a need for food, a need for oxygen, and a genetic heritage that determines to a large extent how we will develop across our lifespans.
More meaningfully still, all human beings share the same basic cognitive structures and the same basic psychology. We all (again with marginal exceptions) have a social reasoning system, which allows us to interpret and react to the norms and customs that shape our community. We also all have a ‘theory of mind’ system, which allows us to respond appropriately to, and with consideration for, the thoughts and feelings of those around us. We also all have a related moral reasoning system, which allows us to consider right and wrong and to make decisions with regard to the complex interplay of the conflicting interests of members of our community. Together, these physical, biological and psychological constraints definitively restrict the range of choices that we would conceivably make about how to organize our societies should existing structures of domination be dismantled, thus reducing the probability of utter chaos.
Of these constraints, the psychological constraints are the most important. The social reasoning, ‘theory of mind’, and moral reasoning systems each allow for coordinated action among individuals, which is the basis for orderly outcomes in the absence of authority. The social reasoning system provides us with the ability to learn, interpret, react to, and shape the norms and customs of the communities in which we live. When we come to identify with those around us – that is, to see ourselves as sharing commonalities and as being emotionally connected to our peers – we feel a strong need to reach consensus, and to decrease differences between ourselves and others. We become motivated to develop shared norms and customs, and to follow those shared norms and customs for their own sake. We develop symbols that define us as a collective, and we seek reassurance and validation from others. These near-universal human features suggest that coordinated action could win out over independent, competitive, or conflictual action, thus conceivably promoting stability and harmony over “anarchy” and mayhem when structures of authority are absent.
The ‘theory of mind’ system allows individuals to understand one another’s thoughts and feelings, and, importantly, to feel empathy for one another. By feeling one another’s feelings, human beings can truly experience the world from the point of view of another, and thereby make decisions in light of the interests of others. In a practical sense, empathy is fundamental to cooperation, and to the desire to negotiate and to compromise in the face of conflict. The ‘theory of mind’ system constrains those choices that people are likely to make, and allows collectively beneficial outcomes to be achieved, again, in the absence of coercive authority.
Moral reasoning in human beings is less well understood, but like ‘theory of mind’ processes, it appears to be a human universal fundamental to coordinated action, and, as such, to be a buffer against chaos. Moral codes vary across communities and cultures, but at a basic level these moral codes share important features, and are mutually intelligible across communities and cultures. As argued by David Hume in the 18th century, and more recently by John Rawls in his Theory of Justice, it appears that human beings have an innate moral sense. When we behave in ways that could be seen as “wrong”, we feel a strong need to justify our behaviour in terms of higher ideals. It is rare for someone who acts purely in their own self-interest to justify those actions by saying simply that they wanted to engage in those actions. It’s even rarer still for someone who is questioned about the moral basis of their actions to fail to understand the question, or to respond in a way that the questioner is unable to understand[2]. Even the most unequivocally self-interested and destructive acts in history have always been justified in terms of a higher ideal. Hitler’s invasion of Poland was conducted to save the German people; the Japanese invasion of Manchuria was carried out to bring “earthly paradise” to the Chinese people; the colonization of India was part of Britain’s civilizing mission, carried out for the benefit of the pitiable natives; and, in more recent times, the United States’ invasion of Iraq was carried out to bring democracy to the Middle East (once arguments about Weapons of Mass Destruction were conveniently forgotten). In each case, the moral argument is universally intelligible, and allows for counter-argument, for discussion, and, importantly, for a consensus to be reached on what is best for all, and on the kind of society that is most just. Again, the shared moral sense allows for the possibility that harmonious relations could arise under conditions of freedom.
These three cognitive systems (among others) form part of our fundamental human nature, an understanding of which, as Noam Chomsky has observed, is the basis of all arguments for and against the feasibility of particular forms of social organisation. The science of human nature is in its infancy, and further systematic investigation of the extent and limits of our nature is necessary before we can definitively differentiate between what is feasible and what is purely utopian. In the meantime, it is reasonable to tentatively conclude that what we currently know about our fundamental nature does not preclude the possibility that a society could function in the absence of concentrated power. We have tendencies towards collective, co-ordinated and pro-social enterprise, which exist alongside certain tendencies toward personal self-interest and egotism. It is within our control to foster the former tendencies and suppress the latter, and to create a society that is more just, more free, and functions in the interests of all its citizens. History provides us with one hopeful example of this kind of society, which, like our shared psychology, hints at the possibility that freedom from domination and harmony among equals can exist side by side. It seems apt to close this discussion of freedom and chaos with the admiring words of George Orwell describing this society – Anarchist Spain during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939) – in his Homage to Catalonia:
“When one came straight from England the aspect of Barcelona was something startling and overwhelming. It was the first time that I had ever been in a town where the working class was in the saddle [...] Waiters and shop-walkers looked you in the face and treated you as an equal. Servile and even ceremonial forms of speech had temporarily disappeared. Nobody said ‘Senor’ or ‘Don’ or even ‘Usted’ [the polite form of ‘you’ in Spanish]; everyone called everyone else ‘Comrade’ and said ‘Salud!’ instead of ‘Buenas dias’. Tipping was forbidden by law since the time of Primo de Rivera; almost my first experience was receiving a lecture from a hotel manager for trying to tip a lift-boy [...] All of this was queer and moving. There was much in it that I did not understand, in some ways I did not even like it, but I recognized it immediately as a state of affairs worth fighting for.”
[1] Nowhere is this implied equivalence more apparent than in the use of the term “anarchy” itself: “anarchy” literally means “without leader/ruler”, but it is more commonly used to mean a state of disorder where functioning institutions have broken down.
[2] As I’ve remarked to friends, no one has ever tried to justify murder by saying “I killed that person because Hungarian sausages are less aerodynamic than an annoyed moose.”