Economic models in anarchism: what actually works?
in Philosophy ·
I guess it’s probably unnecessary for us all to keep repeating definitions of anarchism. I think it’s pretty clear to everyone here what we're talking about. There's that small minority that views it as just a state of pure chaos—seeing it as a potential "man is a wolf to man" situation—but if you look at the English Wikipedia, there are some really well-developed classifications of different types of anarchism, and honestly, the internet is full of shorter excerpts if anyone actually wants to read up on it.
What I'm specifically interested in, though, is how certain theories hold up in practice. For instance, Bakunin argues that the bourgeoisie ascend to management positions where they rake in unrealistically massive salaries, claiming they deserve it because their jobs are harder or carry more responsibility than those of the workers. But on the flip side, he suggests these positions should either be paid equally or, even better, the whole concept of management and administration should be scrapped entirely in favor of giving oversight of the facilities directly to the people. My first question is—what happens if you have a construction firm, say, where more than 50% of the employees are FBI agents or perhaps skilled tradespeople? I don't want to sound condescending, but those individuals might not necessarily be qualified to handle the economic or financial side of things. Then there's the second scenario: a massive corporation like Microsoft or some other giant. You'd still need to organize some kind of councils, committees, or boards, because you simply can't have a million employees deciding every tiny detail of business operations through a democratic vote. I also realize I made an inherent error by using the term "employees"—that word probably needs to be tossed out too. After all, who would coordinate and oversee everything?
On the other hand, regarding the abolition of the state itself—rather than just corporate structures—I see a potential opportunity for creating numerous voluntary funds that people could contribute to. To me, a system like that seems like an excellent replacement for sales tax, which, let's face it, feels like a constant, legalized robbery the government commits against its citizens.
Just to clarify the concept: you'd have a fund for infrastructure, a fund for cancer research, a fund for space exploration, maybe even a fund for religion (though I'm pretty convinced those folks would find a way to turn a profit very quickly... they're talented at that sort of thing), and so on.
For example, at the end of the month, if I'm frustrated with slow internet speeds, I could just pay $50, $100, or whatever amount I feel like into a telecommunications fund. Or I might pay a certain amount into a transit fund because I just blew out my car's suspension hitting a pothole. At a certain point, it just feels better to pay up and live comfortably rather than refuse to pay and deal with crumbling roads everywhere.
I suppose the fundamental principle, which always seems to get lost in the shuffle, should be that we—the people—are primary. Any form of governance, non-governance, or institutional setup exists solely to serve us. If a government starts suffocating us, stealing from us, or dragging us into wars, then it needs to go, because it has started existing merely for its own sake (which is how most modern states operate). But then again, if an institution is actually doing good (why shouldn't a state be?), then it ought to be preserved, because serving the people is its ultimate purpose, right?..
What I'm specifically interested in, though, is how certain theories hold up in practice. For instance, Bakunin argues that the bourgeoisie ascend to management positions where they rake in unrealistically massive salaries, claiming they deserve it because their jobs are harder or carry more responsibility than those of the workers. But on the flip side, he suggests these positions should either be paid equally or, even better, the whole concept of management and administration should be scrapped entirely in favor of giving oversight of the facilities directly to the people. My first question is—what happens if you have a construction firm, say, where more than 50% of the employees are FBI agents or perhaps skilled tradespeople? I don't want to sound condescending, but those individuals might not necessarily be qualified to handle the economic or financial side of things. Then there's the second scenario: a massive corporation like Microsoft or some other giant. You'd still need to organize some kind of councils, committees, or boards, because you simply can't have a million employees deciding every tiny detail of business operations through a democratic vote. I also realize I made an inherent error by using the term "employees"—that word probably needs to be tossed out too. After all, who would coordinate and oversee everything?
On the other hand, regarding the abolition of the state itself—rather than just corporate structures—I see a potential opportunity for creating numerous voluntary funds that people could contribute to. To me, a system like that seems like an excellent replacement for sales tax, which, let's face it, feels like a constant, legalized robbery the government commits against its citizens.
Just to clarify the concept: you'd have a fund for infrastructure, a fund for cancer research, a fund for space exploration, maybe even a fund for religion (though I'm pretty convinced those folks would find a way to turn a profit very quickly... they're talented at that sort of thing), and so on.
For example, at the end of the month, if I'm frustrated with slow internet speeds, I could just pay $50, $100, or whatever amount I feel like into a telecommunications fund. Or I might pay a certain amount into a transit fund because I just blew out my car's suspension hitting a pothole. At a certain point, it just feels better to pay up and live comfortably rather than refuse to pay and deal with crumbling roads everywhere.
I suppose the fundamental principle, which always seems to get lost in the shuffle, should be that we—the people—are primary. Any form of governance, non-governance, or institutional setup exists solely to serve us. If a government starts suffocating us, stealing from us, or dragging us into wars, then it needs to go, because it has started existing merely for its own sake (which is how most modern states operate). But then again, if an institution is actually doing good (why shouldn't a state be?), then it ought to be preserved, because serving the people is its ultimate purpose, right?..