May all roads lead to solarpunk

Letters to an anarchist - Part 8

This is the eighth and final installment of a series of letters between myself and

Elle Griffin

exploring anarchy in action. Previous exchanges can be found here:

• Part 1 by Elle Griffin

• Part 2 by Peter Clayborne

• Part 3 by Elle Griffin

• Part 4 by Peter Clayborne

• Part 5 by Elle Griffin

• Part 6 by Peter Clayborne

• Part 7 by Elle Griffin

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Dear Elle,

As we near a conclusion, I wanted to highlight some points of convergence, some core differences, and where the pieces of this conversation seem to be settling.

Your argument seems to revolve around the assumption that people need to be controlled. This underlies your responses to historical and current examples of anarchy in action, when you point out that they didn’t work over the long-term, or can’t be applied at scale. Without institutions of control, things fall apart. This makes intuitive sense, and is demonstrably true in some ways.

So instead, you propose tweaks to existing systems — some quite radical, such as open borders, and some quite beautiful, such as solarpunk cities. But ultimately you believe government and capital are still essential pillars of a safe, secure society within which people can live freely in community.

Finally, you ask whether the anarchist ideal isn’t too dissimilar from your own after all? You point out that we’ve accomplished, to some degree, many of the aims early anarchists had. And it’s true that we’ve made important progress since the 1800s in some areas (feminism, washing machines, antibiotics).

But anarchy really is a stateless, moneyless, classless ideal, and we are far from seeing that come to fruition. My goal in writing is to show two things: 1) the vast distance between where we are and where we could be, by showing that the world as it is must be turned upside-down in order to be free, and 2) that this work of overturning is not actually as unrealistic as it may seem, because we already have everything we need to do so, we just have to change our relationship to it.

What that looks like in practice will vary by context, but the common denominator is the direction of power. We don’t control anyone; neither do we let anyone control us. It’s an active resistance to the accumulation of power — which requires power of a sort. Immense effort must be expended in the opposite direction than it is now: towards nurturing collaborative systems and cooperative culture, and away from social and material systems that encourage people to hoard and dominate.

Sex might be a good metaphor here. Technically, the physical actions of making love and experiencing rape are the same, but no one would call them two versions of the same thing. We all understand that they are qualitatively different — even diametrically opposed. The same is true of social revolution the way anarchists have often imagined. As opposed to reforming our current systems or engaging in political revolution, both of which leave unchallenged the premise of control, the anarchist idea of social revolution involves the spontaneous and voluntary transformation of social life.

While the worlds we aim for and the one we inhabit might both involve making decisions, distributing resources, navigating conflict, and balancing labor and leisure, they are fundamentally different in character.

The metaphor of sex can be extended: in the context of sex offender registries, you ask “how can we use shame as a deterrent for violence?”

Basically, I would like behaviors that are currently celebrated as success (like hoarding and exploitation) shamed on a societal level. I want wealth and power to be a disgrace. I think shame can be a helpful tool in that endeavor. Right now, people are shamed for being poor, being disabled, being sexually deviant, being the wrong color, etc. Our justice system punishes disproportionately along those lines. What’s more, when it comes to real violence, the same systems that purportedly exist to prevent social harm actually exacerbate it. The problem sex offender registries share with prisons is that both approaches vilify people and separate them from community. This only increases social harm.

Rather than scapegoating individuals, we can diffuse norms throughout culture. The idea is to develop conscious taboos against anti-social behaviors, in the same way we teach our current society’s values to our children, with the aim of making it socially risky to try and accumulate power and control.

When looking at historical examples of peaceful cultures, you suggest that “[s]mall groups of people can effectively self-govern but larger groups of people need some level of governance. For example, what if one of those small self-governed communities starts behaving badly?”

I think the whole idea of self-governing is still upside-down. The anarchist vision isn’t about clamping down on a global anarchist order, making sure everyone behaves properly. It’s about creating space for people to make their own decisions. This might sound like washing our hands of responsibility for collective safety, or leaving our friends out to dry. Far from it. If any large region went anarchist, it would be the collective decision of almost everyone involved, and would result in deeply connected networks of support and mutual self-defense. Establishing some governing body to oversee the anarchist regions, and possibly their less-free neighbors, would defeat the purpose of becoming anarchist in the first place. I haven’t the space (or the knowledge) to examine the history of federal government here, but even if such systems developed in order to outlaw violence within a certain territory, they do so by enacting violence on a much larger scale. We need to be vigilant against tyranny, especially within ourselves and our communities. We need a different approach to mutual safety than top-down control.

Discussing the history of capitalism, you make the point that it makes sense to build on what we have now, instead of throwing it out and trying something new.

It’s common to think of capitalism as outside ideology, to see it as a natural historical development encompassing all economic exchange. Even Karl Marx, one of capitalism’s greatest detractors, legitimized it when he argued through historical materialism that capitalism is a necessary stage on the journey of progress from primitive savagery to communist utopia.

Reality is messier. The transition to a capitalist economy was resisted every step of the way by the vast majority of people who were forced off their land to become wage laborers. Even the ancients thought of renting oneself out, even temporarily, as a form of voluntary slavery. Each new enclosure of the commons was a victory of the wealthy over the rest. Before capitalism, many of what are often considered barter economies were actually gift economies. These systems functioned on generosity and interdependence, and did not need money to keep accounts.

The alternatives most anarchists are interested in don’t involve installing some new system based on ideology. That would just be repeating what capitalists and communists have been doing for centuries. If anything, we aim to reincorporate ideas and practices older than those of our adversaries. But ultimately what we want is an end to the imposition of ideological blueprints entirely. We want the time and space to make decisions for ourselves together.

Referring to my near-future fiction experiment, you point out that we’ve created many of the systems I imagine, hence the industrialized civilization we now enjoy — further corroborating the idea that we don’t need to start from scratch, we can simply improve upon what we already have.

When I say “we,” I’m referring to the vast majority of us who aren’t in the business of running other people’s lives. In that sense, “we” didn’t create the systems we live under today. We didn’t write the Constitution, we don’t write or enforce the laws, we don’t create tax code or adjust interest rates. A small number of powerful people (usually men) do. Anarchists tend to believe that what we need is “always already” there, we just have to look. However, right now there are rulers of a thousand stripes in the way. The hallmark of a free society is the absence of those gatekeepers to power and resources.

In comparing several of your pieces with what other anarchist thinkers have argued, you wonder, “maybe I’m more anarchist than I thought?”

Honestly, we all are! That’s the hope of anarchy: that most people in most times and places share similar needs. While what we want depends largely on where, when, and with whom we live, it should not be so mysterious to figure out how to provide a baseline level of safety and security for all of us. Most political philosophies are banking on the idea that humans can and should be controlled, which necessitates homogenizing. But anarchy rejoices in everyone becoming ungovernable — a heterotopia, rather than a utopia.

It’s true that needs unite and ideas divide. That’s why I’m pushing back against ideas that keep us stuck in systems that don’t provide for our needs. It’s also true that we need a diversity of tactics to get where we want to go. I’m sure we’ll see innovations to capitalism, policy changes in government, and social movements in communities and the general population, sometimes out of alignment with each other, on our way to a freer and more beautiful world. I’m not opposed to any of those options.

I love a lot of your explorations of change: countries competing for citizens, a distributed economy in 2100, patronizing the arts, decoupling federal from state government. I think a lot of it can go further. We’ve all been somewhat traumatized by political revolutions in the last century, but the good news is that a social revolution would not look like that at all. Dismantling systems is about rewriting relationships, not destroying infrastructure. We need every bit of material we can save in the coming storms. What we don’t need are bosses and bureaucrats and bullies telling us what to do with our time and holding the means of living at ransom.

If you’re able to wonder if you’re more anarchist than you thought, it’s only fair that I confess to holding the label “anarchist” itself lightly: I don’t much care what we call ourselves (although I care very much about historical accuracy). I care about how we live on this planet together. Right now, anarchy is the best word to describe what I want, how I try to act, and the tradition I most identify with. But as a former evangelical, I’m also trying to unlearn purity culture and proselytizing. I don’t want to make converts; I certainly don’t want to project moral superiority. I just want the people I love to live well.

That’s something that really strikes me about your writing: you seem to love this world deeply. With all its flaws, you’re stubborn about pointing out the beautiful, and imagining how we can make it even better. G.K. Chesterton, one of my biggest inspirations, says this sort of loyalty to the world is a healthy foundation for a worldview. He calls it “cosmic patriotism.” Unlike the pessimists who take satisfaction in failure, and unlike the optimists who insist on living in denial, Chesterton says the cosmic patriot takes the world exactly as it is. And because we’re rooted in love, we’re ready to turn the world upside-down for the sake of itself.

Thanks for bringing me along in your explorations so far! Your questions challenged me to get specific about what I believe and why, which is always valuable. Your ideas inspired me to flesh out and polish my own. I look forward to continuing this intellectual journey.

May all roads lead to solarpunk futures!

Peter Clayborne

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Thanks to everyone who has followed along in this series! I hope it addresses questions and ideas both our audiences have wrestled with. We’re bringing our conversation to a broader community in the hopes that you’ll take it and run with it. In my view, anarchy only works when we make it work together.

On December 4th, Elle and I will host a live discussion right here on Substack to reflect on the conversation so far. Mark your calendars and join us then!

Thank you for reading Anarchy Unfolds. This publication is entirely supported by my readers. Each subscription helps grow the networks we need to overturn the upside-down. If you value this work, consider becoming a paid subscriber. I’m always grateful for your time and attention.