Thursday, June 27, 2019

The Secret of Ankh-Morpork: A Tale of British Liberalism



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.

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.  

3 comments:

Aybn Marx 666 said...

What is a dwarf realising that she could be in the Watch—or identify publicly as a 'she'—if not 'wokeness'? What is it if not a golem deciding to live by its own words? I realise that some use the term to denote their disapproval of someone else's belief that they've not got exactly a fair deal, but I—very likely not deemed sufficiently woke by some, far too woke by other—see it at its best as improved consciousness of reality, e.g. that for very many people the Policeman is not their friend. (A relative related how back in the Warsaw Ghetto c.1930 there was excitement at the appointment of a Jewish policeman, but that more generally the police remained men who did nothing to interfere with gentile gangs beating Jews, and would, in fact, beat _you_ if you reported such.)

On that subject, I'd say that in Europe at least, if you are correct, most Christians never saw Jews as integral parts of the society, and could be roused to form a mob to assault the Christ-killers whenever a local priest got religion or the local noble decided he didn't want to repay his debts to the richest of the Jews. Some royals and of the nobility did see Jews as part of the system, but (as above) were quite willing to promote anti-Semitism when it suited them.

Thank-you for the piece, though. If I am sceptical, it is because I do not have Hayek's faith in the ability of 'organic' institutions, which I should say _have_ evolved but conditioned mostly to suit the needs of those with extant power, to really reach liberal ends. I do not feel that they ever worked all that well, seeming to do so only because they worked much better for those more visible to polite society and to history. „Denn die einen sind im Dunkeln Und die andern sind im Licht. Und man siehet die im Lichte Die im Dunkeln sieht man nicht.“

More directly, I should say that the fundamental fact of the novels, which I love, at least until around "Thud", is that Ankh-Morpork works because Mr Pratchett sincerely wanted it to work. I have a problem with "Thud" and after because Mr Pratchett expended less and less effort trying to find reasons why things _should_ credibly work out, and particularly well and easily for plot-armoured Sam Vimes.

Izgad said...

Thank you for your comment.
Cherry Littlebottom is a great example of the difference between classical liberal tolerance and being woke. Cherry comes to Ankh-Morpork and makes certain life decisions that she could not do at home, mainly to become a she, and people leave her alone. She does not challenge dwarf society nor does she show any interest in forcing other people to acknowledge her as a woman.
When studying Jewish history it is important to avoid the lachrymose narrative in which we only focus on Jewish suffering even though suffering is more likely to leave a record than cooperation. For example, the attacks on Jews in the 12th century begs the question of why this was not happening earlier and what changed to make such violence possible. Nineteenth-century nationalism harmed Jews because it othered Jews in ways that religion never could. Keep in mind that most people have never been that religious.
The woke narrative about institutions assumes that they were designed by the powerful to suit their ends. The implication is that if the "right" people seized power they could design more just institutions. The counter-narrative is that the powerful are those who have best understood the present institutions and how best to use them.

Aybn Marx 666 said...

It's been years since I read the books in question, and to be honest I don't remember incidents involving her too well except for the nagging feeling that (much like Vimes in later books) she was getting away with it all more easily than she'd likely had done, but I seem to recall at least one occasion where a more orthodox dwarf basically called her a schandeh and Vimes intervened to make sure that she was not mistreated. That is to say, she makes no demands because she _is_ able to be as she will, but that in the absence of Vimes (and, really, Pratchett) pulling for her she might have to act in a way that others would characterise as attempting to 'force' others to acknowledge her as, not a woman, but as someone worthy of respect because her adopted society's liberalism had its limits.

(Some of the complaint against 'wokeness', notably on the part of some comedians, has seemed to me to be objection to one segment of society or another's now having enough power that offending them mattered—they object to having to have to give them respect due them merely as human beings, for example that they might feel they'd best show the club-owner's family. This seems to me to be, in effect, objection to a distribution of power they consider unjust, much like one libertarian billionaire's fulmination against The System that would not permit his money to buy him more votes than poor people, or even a more favourable traffic signal.)

As to Jewish history, I won't claim that my ancestors lived on the slopes of a continually erupting volcano, which would have been foolish in all but the worst of all possible worlds, but many did flee eruptions to slopes that seemed quieter for the moment only to see a little lava every few decades relieved by periodic explosions. Well before Nineteenth Century nationalism that thought State and Nation ought to be isomorphic I think the nationalisms in play then, which we'd now class as tribalisms—and here I allow that people can be not particularly pious but still be strongly identified with a nation partially defined by a religion—were in the background allowing these unpleasant-to-mortal patches.


Finally, speaking, of course, as I do for everyone for whom 'woke' is not a snarl-word nor 'organic institution' a purr-word, I doubt that all woke people believe that institutions were 'designed' by the powerful. I would describe them as having (especially in modern states with written constitutions) some explicit design but also a great deal of evolution in response to the needs of those with the power to shape them, and as such many do tend to be kinder to the powerful than otherwise. I'm not for their wholesale elimination with new institutions some think would be more just or work better—for example, that is why I don't support replacing our milk-and-water social democracy here in the States with Libertopia _xor_ the Workers' Paradise. I do think, though, that like code institutions accumulate kruft over the years, code that either once kludged a problem away or at least didn't cause any problem, but that sometimes that has to go. (I recall a bit of audio software that needed a slight delay, and, honestly, buried deep within it got it by running a loop that did nothing for ten thousand iterations. When chips got faster and the compiler was set to optimise, suddenly that code was useless and something new was needed.) At some points an institution will suddenly fail at what it's supposed to do, at others the voices of those whom it has never served well will be loud enough to hear, either because they be speaking more forcefully or (non-exclusively) because more of us have bothered to listen.