In the Constitution of Liberty
(I:4), F. A. Hayek distinguishes between what may be called the British evolutionary
empiricist and French rationalist schools of liberty. The French tradition, as
exemplified by thinkers like Jean Jacques Rousseau (yes, he was born in
Geneva), sees liberty in terms of specific policies and political structures
that can be known through reason. Its primary goal is the creation of a utopian ideal government with the right laws and the right people in charge. The British tradition, as exemplified by Adam
Smith and Edmund Burke, sees liberty as emerging out of systems of human
interaction that transcend the design of any particular person. These can be
seen in economic markets and traditional social orders. As with biological
evolution, these systems are rational in the sense that they follow clear rules
and are not random even as they have no rational designer. The goal of such liberty is not any utopian ideal but to limit physical coercion in people's lives.
It strikes me that one of the finest modern examples of this British approach to liberty can be found in Terry Pratchett's comic fantasy series Discworld. In particular, I would like to focus on his use of the city of Ankh-Morpork, which relies less on any of its visible institutions than on a certain subconscious sensibility embedded within its citizens. On the surface, one would be hard-pressed to think of Ankh-Morpork as any kind of Utopia. The city is filthy, crime-ridden, corrupt and under the boot of the tyrannical Patrician Lord Vetinari. And yet there is something about the city that allows it to, if not necessarily function well, at least avoid collapsing on a day to day basis. Furthermore, there is something about Ankh-Morpork that draws people from all over Discworld, whether barbarian raiders, tourists or immigrants. As paradoxical as it might sound, if you find yourself alienated by the place you grew up in, Ankh-Morpork is precisely the place that you can count on to feel at home.
It strikes me that one of the finest modern examples of this British approach to liberty can be found in Terry Pratchett's comic fantasy series Discworld. In particular, I would like to focus on his use of the city of Ankh-Morpork, which relies less on any of its visible institutions than on a certain subconscious sensibility embedded within its citizens. On the surface, one would be hard-pressed to think of Ankh-Morpork as any kind of Utopia. The city is filthy, crime-ridden, corrupt and under the boot of the tyrannical Patrician Lord Vetinari. And yet there is something about the city that allows it to, if not necessarily function well, at least avoid collapsing on a day to day basis. Furthermore, there is something about Ankh-Morpork that draws people from all over Discworld, whether barbarian raiders, tourists or immigrants. As paradoxical as it might sound, if you find yourself alienated by the place you grew up in, Ankh-Morpork is precisely the place that you can count on to feel at home.
What is Ankh-Morpork's secret of
success? It is not the place has some particularly brilliant form of
government. There is not much of a government doing anything and the little government that there is seems totally outmatched by the challenges it faces. Is there something
special about Ankh-Morporkians themselves? There is no race of
Ankh-Morporkians. On the contrary, Ankh-Morpork is a collection of every race
and species on Discworld. Furthermore, the people themselves are not
particularly wise nor virtuous. What makes Ankh-Morpork special is something
about the deep-seated institutions of the city itself that transcend its
politics and its racial makeup. One might even think of it as magic, something
that is not too far fetched considering how the wizards of Ankh-Morpork's Unseen
University mess with the fabric of reality.
In this sense, Ankh-Morpork is the
perfect British classical liberal counter-Utopia. The place is far from perfect
but is still a place that real people might want to live in. This only makes
sense in a world that rejects Utopias. In fact, constantly hanging over
Ankh-Morpork is the prospect of a path to Utopia that is never taken in the
form of the messianic Captain Carrot Ironfoundersson. He is the true heir to
the throne of Ankh-Morpork (the last king having been killed off centuries
ago). He even has a sword and a birthmark to prove it. It has been foretold that he will bring truth and justice to Ankh-Morpork. (See Guards, Guards.) One of the running jokes
of the series is that despite all the people who know of Carrot's heritage, there is no grand push to make him king because no one actually wants truth and justice. It is not that anyone actually likes
Lord Vetinari, but his style of management, corruption and all, suits people just
fine.
Carrot does well as an honest
watchman and as a human raised by dwarfs and whose love interest, Angua, is a
werewolf, he is well positioned to negotiate between different races. That
being said, it is obvious that Carrot would be a dreadful ruler if he ever got
around to fulfilling his destiny. He has principles that he will not compromise on, while politics is the art of compromise. It is unfortunate that Pratchett never got
around to completing Carrot's story arc. I imagine something along the lines of
Vetinari being killed off, chaos threatens the city, and the people are demanding that Carrot agree to become their king. Carrot should then give some
version of Life of Brian's "you can all think for yourselves" speech before
riding off into the sunset. The city falls into chaos and it is exactly the
kind of chaos that afflicted Ankh-Morpork every day under Vetinari. Perhaps Nobby Nobbs becomes patrician; regardless, it does not matter who officially rules as it is the city itself that actually is in charge.
Part of Discworld's use of an emerging
order is its lack of clear ideological heroes. For example, Vetinari is not any
kind of liberal. He is a dictator, who clearly does not believe in
civil liberties. That being said, what great evil does Vetinari actually do? He seems to
sit in his office, call people in and suggest that certain courses of action
might be good for their continued health. For all that it is taken as a given that
Vetinari is ruthless enough to have people tortured to death on a whim, he does
not seem to do much of that. This does not mean that Vetinari is a good guy; his love of power precludes that. Nevertheless, there is something about the culture of Ankh-Morpork that resists blatant authoritarian force. Vetinari is smart
enough to understand that the best way to hold on to power in Ankh-Morpork is
to avoid directly giving orders. Instead, everything, including
theft and murder, is legalized though regulated by guilds. These institutions gain their authority through the perpetual motion of tradition that transcends any attempt by individuals to control them. In essence, Vetinari allows the city to run itself while he devotes himself to politics, staying in power by positioning himself as the known quantity that people can live with.
We see a similar thing with Sam
Vimes, the head of the city watch. While Vimes is certainly more likable than
Vetinari, his values are quite conservative. Unlike his ancestor who killed the
last king of Ankh-Morpork, Vimes is not a revolutionary. What Vimes believes in
is the law. It is not that Vimes believes that the law is perfect. On the
contrary, he is quite aware of its limitations. That being said, it is
precisely because Vimes sees how little good the law can do in the face of real
problems in the world that he believes that the law, for whatever it is worth,
should apply to everyone, rich and poor, humans and every other race. (See Night Watch and Snuff.) Vimes is the kind of common man just doing his job around whom heroic things seem to happen.
This sensibility seeps down into
the rest of Ankh-Morpork. It is a cosmopolitan place in which even dwarfs and
trolls learn to if not exactly tolerate each other than at least to not murder
each other too often. (See Thud.) Ankh-Morpork has legal prostitution in the form of the Seamstress'
Guild. It even allows for explorations of gender identity in the case of Cherry
Littlebottom, who comes out as a female dwarf. For all of this tolerance, it is
not as if there are many actual liberals in the city crusading for people's
rights. (There are zombie activists promoting the rights of the undead.) Most
of the residents are highly parochial, interested in their mothers or some
other hobby. But it is precisely such narrow mindedness that makes
Ankh-Morpork's type of tolerance possible. The residents are too focused on
their own private business to mind anyone else's. When the occasional mob
does form, they are usually dispersed not by appeals to any noble ideals but by
reminding the mob that there are more important things in their lives that they
should care about.
In Discworld, the arc of history
does bend toward justice. A running theme through the series is the expansion
of personhood to include an ever wider circle of beings such as golems or
goblins, who were previously seen as either lacking feelings or so depraved as
to be outside of personhood. (See Feet of Clay and Snuff.) What makes this possible is not that particular
individuals become "woke" to oppression. Rather, it is that the
underlying social system evolves as to include new groups. Once that happens,
no conscious tolerance is needed. You can hate the group, but even the very
fact that you hate them serves to embed them within the fabric of society,
making their elimination inconceivable. (This is an important theme in
understanding anti-Semitism. Jews were never in danger from people who believed
that Jews killed their Lord as long as Jews were considered part of the
existing order of society. Mass violence against Jews only became possible
when Jews came to be thought of as something other.)
On the other side of this coin, minority groups themselves, such as the dwarfs, change as they move to Ankh-Morpork. They might not intend to assimilate and might not realize what is happening until they are raising the next generation but by then it is too late. It is the power of Ankh-Morpork that it is able to assimilate outsiders and turn them into Ankh-Morporkians who embody Ankh-Morpork values even as such people claim to hate Ankh-Morpork and desire to return to the "old country."
Much as Ankh-Morpork attracts outsiders, the city finds itself host to a wide variety of religions. Most Ankh-Morporkians seem indifferent to religion in their personal lives even as religious institutions seem to thrive. There is even a Temple of Small Gods devoted to cast off religions that services people who might not be particularly religious but who like religion as a general idea. The only people who seem interested in forcing their beliefs on others are the Omnians. Even they find themselves caught in the web of Ankh-Morpork sensibilities and are reduced to "aggressively" handing out pamphlets to unbelievers.
This brings us to the question of
markets. As Ankh-Morpork is not a Utopia, it should come as no surprise that
Ankh-Morpork is not a free-market Utopia along the lines of Galt's Gulch populated by libertarian ideologues prepared to explain the evils of government planning. That being said, what is interesting
about Ankh-Morpork is that it is precisely the kind of place in which
innovation either happens or which innovators quickly make their way to in
order to market their ideas. It is not that Vetinari loves innovation. On the
contrary, he understands more than most people how innovations can make tidal
waves in society and he knows that the entire basis of his power lies in his
ability to offer people more of the same. It is not that Ankh-Morporkians
themselves love innovation either, at least as a principle. That being said,
Ankh-Morporkians can be seduced by the magic of a new invention. This allows
for innovations to make a rapid jump from a prototype that someone is fooling
around with to a part of the social fabric, moving through the stage of
dangerous innovation too fast for an effective opposition to build up and stop it.
Like Charles Dickens, Pratchett's
depiction of businessmen was a mixed bag. I do love Harry King whose fortune literally is founded on human excrement. (See Raising Steam.) For a city in which so much is privatized,
it is a mystery as to why Ankh-Morpork would need a government-run post-office
or mint. (See Going Postal and Making Money.) Even in those cases, Vetinari takes a very hands-off approach
and simply lets the conman Moist von Lipwig take charge. In both cases, it is the
Ankh-Morpork spirit and not government planning that quickly takes over and cause these institutions to serve purposes beyond anyone's design.
Ultimately, Pratchett also
possessed Dickens' appreciation for the common unheroic virtues. People might
be cowards and hypocrites (otherwise known as being self-interested), but they
are redeemed by their petty loves and kindnesses. As with Dickens, this goes a
long way to redeeming Pratchett. He is a defender of the common man with his
bourgeois dreams of doing even the most humble job well and getting ahead as opposed to waging revolution. This is in
contrast to the Marxist pretend support for the working class; no one despises
the common man like a Marxist.
The truth about Ankh-Morpork is that it is actually very well run; it is just that it is not being run by any person, not even Lord Vetinari. Ankh-Morpork is a liberal and even revolutionary city that is completely lacking in liberal revolutionaries. It is the deep-seated embed institutions of the city itself that transcend any politician, system of government or particular race that guard the city's liberty and allow it to thrive.