One of my pet peeves is – surprise! – the twisting of the meanings of words for unholy purposes. Yes, it’s a common occurrence in political cut-and-thrust, but it also features in exchanges between common citizens. Humpty Dumpty thought he could get away with it, but the rest of us need not be Alices.
A long, long time ago, an elderly friend wrote a piece for a very minor publication I edited in which he argued that even in a wholly anarchic society, a State exists locally and temporarily wherever like-minded persons can muster a local preponderance of force. If we look at The State as its function – i.e., to wield coercive force for particular purposes – rather than as an institution, Ed was absolutely correct. Wherever you have a group united on a purpose and large enough to get its way, you have a State for local and temporary purposes.
A lynch mob is functionally a State. That should give a few people pause for thought.
That doesn’t mean that the anarchic society is impossible. It means only that our expectations of it must be tempered by our grasp of human nature. People do get exercised over things. They do band together for specific purposes. If they’re not opposed by equal or greater forces, they can impose themselves on others, against those others’ wills.
Another friend of more recent vintage liked to say that “Anarchy is the perpetual Loyal Opposition.” He saw anarchy as beckoning from the sidelines. It keeps politicians and bureaucrats mindful that an alternative to them exists and always will. He had a good point.
When a disorderly movement “pops up” in the midst of a normal – i.e., State-ridden – society, it sometimes gets its way. You may remember the Occupy Wall Street affair that arose in New York City in 2011, during Michael Bloomberg’s mayoralty. Bloomberg refrained from directing law enforcement to quell it for several weeks. It was a good illustration of the transient and conditional nature of State hegemony.
Whenever a miscreant is treated gently by the “official” justice system, he faces the possibility that an “ad hoc State” will arise to impose a greater penalty. The more heinous his crimes, the more likely he’ll face “private justice.” Say what you will about vigilance committees, that was their genesis: “the authorities” had either failed to act against violent criminals or had given them the proverbial slap on the wrist. It doesn’t happen with perfect predictability or unanimous approval of the results, but it does happen. It’s why men convicted of raping children fear to go to prison.
Heinlein made a point of this in his magnum opus The Moon is a Harsh Mistress:
“All our customs work that way. If you’re out in field and a cobber needs air, you lend him a bottle and don’t ask cash. But when you’re both back in pressure again, if he won’t pay up, nobody would criticize if you eliminated him without a judge. But he would pay; air is almost as sacred as women. If you take a new chum in a poker game, you give him air money. Not eating money; can work or starve. If you eliminate a man other than self-defense, you pay his debts and support his kids, or people won’t speak to you, buy from you, sell to you.”
“Mannie, you’re telling me that I can murder a man here and settle the matter merely with money?”
“Oh, not at all! But eliminating isn’t against some law; are no laws—except Warden’s regulations—and Warden doesn’t care what one Loonie does to another. But we figure this way: If a man is killed, either he had it coming and everybody knows it—usual case—or his friends will take care of it by eliminating man who did it. Either way, no problem. Nor many eliminations. Even set duels aren’t common.”
When young Fran first read that passage, he was as nonplussed as Stuart LaJoie, the tourist being tutored in Lunar ways by protagonist and first-person narrator Manuel O’Kelly Davis. But it’s the way human societies self-organize in the absence of a State. History does provide examples thereof, including medieval Iceland before Denmark incorporated it and pre-British-invasion Ireland.
The above disquisition was triggered by – drum roll, please! – a slur aimed at a perfectly nice young woman on X who goes by the moniker “Libertarian Goth:”
You support pedophilia because you oppose State force to stop it. A libertarian fantasy society is a pedophile tolerant society.
— Sterling Reece π‘️πΊπΈ (@SterlingReece26) August 28, 2026
Anyone who might say such a thing to me would be invited to a pre-dawn kaffeklatsch with pistols at ten paces. Libertarian Goth was more restrained:
Despite me directly telling you my beliefs you say that I believe something else right after. Can you please tell me who my favorite band is? I want to listen some music. Or maybe I don’t. Do I? You tell me. π€·π»♀️ https://t.co/SdF6AyB8Q9
— π₯ π€ππ¦ππ’π―π±ππ―π¦ππ« ππ¬π±π₯π€π₯ (@LibertarianG0th) August 28, 2026
I applaud that young lady for limiting herself to ridicule in response. Were I in her place, I might have used the kzinti method of issuing a challenge:
Speaker-To-Animals said one thing more before he turned back to his table. "Louis Wu, I found your challenge verbose. In challenging a kzin, a simple scream of rage is sufficient. You scream and you leap."
In short, the absence – or passivity – of a State does not imply the absence of justice. Pedophiles know it. Verbum sat sapienti.
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