Beyond The Laws

     First, let’s have a little Kipling:

Whatsoever, for any cause,
     Seeketh to take or give
Power above or beyond the Laws,
     Suffer it not to live!
Holy State or Holy King--
     Or Holy People's Will--
Have no truck with the senseless thing.
     Order the guns and kill!

[“Macdonough’s Song”]

     Now, let’s have a citation that may surprise my Gentle Readers:

Machiavelli tells us that all republics require a leader to step outside of the law from time to time and restore order when the nation inevitably degrades over time

And the founders, no matter how it enrages the “classical liberals” were reading Machiavelli https://t.co/9B34i720Oe

— Auron MacIntyre (@AuronMacintyre) September 22, 2026

     Which stance is your preference?

* * *

     Probably the most toxic term of all, in a political context, is necessity. I wrote about this in a work of fiction:

     “Sir...I know Earth had States, and I know they hated our ancestors, but weren’t there any decent people left?”
     The professor looked at him in silence for a long time.
     “This is truly a hard job, Mr. Morelon. The answer to your question is: No, there weren’t. Not after the Spoonerites left. I know you don’t want to believe it. But the people of Earth had all accepted force and terror as legitimate means to an end. They had accepted the State, and the State had swallowed them whole. There were no free men anywhere. There were only rulers and subjects. As a result, there was no peace and no security anywhere. Have you ever read about war, Mr. Morelon?” Stromberg looked around the room. “Have any of you?”
     There was no answer.
     “It was the greatest of the obscenities of the States.” Stromberg’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Now and again, for any reasons or none, they would hurl their populations at one another. Millions of men would clash in combat, striking and being struck, killing and being killed in numbers beyond imagination. Why? So that one State could enforce its will upon another.
     “The economy of a warring State would be channeled to warlike priorities. No longer did the skills of producers determine what would be made and who would make it. No longer did the desires of consumers determine how much of it would be purchased and at what price. The State ruled all. The engines of production became merely another weapon in its hands, to be wielded against its enemy as it saw fit. To disobey the State in peacetime would cost you your liberty or your property. To deviate from the State’s decrees in wartime was called treason, and would cost you your life.”
     The old lecturer straightened, for a moment looking very like Armand’s grandfather. His eyes had become piercing beacons of anger.
     “And I am charged with teaching you about this. I, who have no more direct knowledge of it than you. Every year I spend hundreds of hours reading histories of old Earth. I steep myself in them until I can smell the greed of the States on the air and feel the chill sweat of their subjects’ fear on my own skin. But why? We’ve left the State behind forever, haven’t we? Would any of you care to guess why I put myself through that torture year after year, and why I’ve put you through this briefer one today?”
     A student raised a tentative hand. “Because it’s necessary, sir?”
     Stromberg shook his head slowly. “Necessary to whom, Mr. Untermeyer? Necessary by whose judgment?” He grinned ruefully. “Necessity is the creed of tyrants. A great man named William Pitt said that. He proved it by going on to become a great tyrant. A man of Hope determines his own necessities. He doesn’t have them determined for him by others.”
     Klaus Untermeyer stood, and the class turned toward him. “But if it isn’t necessary, what other reason could there be?”
     Stromberg pursed his lips and looked down at his lectern. “I noticed that you carry a needlegun, Mr. Untermeyer. May I ask why?”
     The student shrugged. “I’ve always carried one.”
     “Are you good with it?”
     The young man’s eyes narrowed. “Fair.”
     “Have you ever used it to defend yourself?”
     “Uh, no.”
     “But I’d wager a year’s salary that you never leave your room without it. Why?”
     Untermeyer shrugged. “My parents taught me to keep it with me. You never know what might turn up.”
     The sociologist nodded. “Indeed you don’t. Not now, and not in the future. If there’s a soul among you who doesn’t go armed whenever he’s beyond the walls of his home, he’s a benighted fool. Because you don’t know what might turn up. And after twelve hundred years of peace and freedom, neither do we of Hope.”

     Oh, here’s the original quote from William Pitt:

     Necessity is the plea for every infringement of human freedom. It is the argument of tyrants; it is the creed of slaves.

     Having said that, I’ll allow that quite a number of thinkers – genuine and self-nominated – have cited “necessity” as the rationale for going outside the law. Machiavelli, Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau, and others of considerable repute have argued thus. And I have no doubt that any politician worth his bribes would immediately cite all of them and a few others were he to be caught taking “Power above or beyond the Laws.” For politicians, each and every one of them, deem themselves to be “leaders.” And “leaders” are impatient with constraint.

     But not quite as impatient as free men are with “leaders” who dare to step outside the law and claim “necessity.” Especially those men who are fully aware that they would be held to account for their actions. They will want blood… and they get it with surprising regularity.

* * *

     “It’s necessary.” Necessary for what? Necessary for whom? Those are the questions that lurk behind every claim of “necessity.” Robert A. Heinlein brushed up against them in To Sail Beyond The Sunset:

     ‘Thou shalt not steal. I couldn't improve that one, Father.'
     ‘Would you steal to feed a baby?'
     ‘Uh, yes.'
     ‘Think about other exceptions; we'll discuss it in a year or two. But it is a good general rule.’

     Calling thou shalt not steal “a good general rule” is like saying but sometimes you can get away with it. Get away with it how? Why, by pleading “necessity,” of course! But then those noxious questions about “for what” and “for whom” come around on the carousel. Remember Les Miserables? Jean Valjean was servicing his own “necessity.” But it is often the case that in serving one’s own “necessity” he infringes on the “necessity” of another.

     That is why we have courts and jury trials. But prosecutors seldom file cases against the mighty of the land. A jury of private citizens is all too likely to say “No, that wasn’t necessary” and send the offender off to prison. Even if it’s a much gentler prison than the one Jean Valjean suffered, a prosecutor is reluctant to send a Mover or Shaker to one. Prison terms are often cut short retroactively, and Movers and Shakers have long memories.

* * *

     I could go on about this for another twenty pages. But I’ve already done so in what I’ve been told is my best novel, which I cited above.

     My point is simple: I want you to growl menacingly any and every time some “leader” claims “necessity” as his rationale for grabbing “power above or beyond the laws.” I want the bastards who think themselves smarter and more moral than you and me to live in fear: fear of us. Only fear has a Chinaman’s chance of keeping them in line.

     Apologies, Gentle Reader. I let my temper slip its leash for a little while there. We now return you to your previously scheduled programming. Do have a nice day.