Anarchist Political Parable
You live in a small village with a crime problem.
Vandals roam the village, stealing and destroying people’s property.
For whatever reason, no one seems to be doing anything about the problem.
So one day, you and your family convene and decide to put a stop to it.
You take your guns and go out looking for the vandals.
Periodically, you catch one of them, take him back to your house at gunpoint, and proceed to lock him in the basement.
You provide the vandals with food so they don’t starve, but you plan to keep them locked in the basement for a few years to teach them a lesson.
After you’ve been operating in this way for a few weeks, you decide to make the rounds of the neighborhood.
Starting with your next door neighbor, you knock on the door and explain your anti-crime program.
“You’ve noticed the reduction in crime in the last few weeks, haven’t you?” you ask.
Your neighbor nods.
“Well, that is thanks to me. I’ve been locking vandals in my basement.”
Noting the wary look on your neighbor’s face, you continue.
“Anyway, the reason I’m here is that it’s come time to collect your contribution to the crime prevention fund. Naturally, I can’t provide my services for free. Your bill for the month is $100.”
You extend your hand expectantly.
When your neighbor stares at you incredulously, making no apparent move to hand over the money, you explain patiently that, should he refuse to pay you the required amount, you will unfortunately have to label him a criminal, at which point he too will be subject to long-term confinement in your basement, along with the aforementioned vandals.
Indicating the pistol at your hip, you note that you are prepared to take him by force if necessary.
Supposing you take this tack with all of your neighbors, what sort of reception could you generally expect?
Would most of your neighbors cheerfully give over their assigned share of the costs of crime prevention?
Or would they, perhaps, give over the money after grudgingly admitting their obligation to you?
Neither of these reactions is likely.
In all probability, you would observe the following.
First, almost none of your neighbors would take themselves to owe you anything.
While some might pay up for fear of being locked in your basement, and a few might pay up out of hostility toward the vandals, almost none would consider themselves duty bound to do so, and those who refused to pay would more likely be praised than condemned for standing up to you.
Second, most would consider your actions outrageous. Your demands for payment would be seen as naked extortion, and your confinement of those who refused to pay you would be condemned as kidnaping.
The very outrageousness of your conduct, combined with your deluded presumption that the rest of the village would recognize an obligation to support you, would doubtless cause many to question your sanity.
Now, what does this story have to do with political philosophy?
In the story, you behaved like a rudimentary government.
Admittedly, you did not take on all the functions of a typical, modern state.
But you assumed two of its most central and seemingly essential roles: you punished people who harm others or violate others’ rights, and you collected non-voluntary contributions from the public to finance your activities.
The government’s ways of carrying out these activities are referred to, respectively, as the criminal justice system and the taxation system.
Your ways of carrying out these activities are referred to as kidnaping and extortion.
'The Problem of Political Authority' by Michael Huemer
https://www.amazon.com/dp/1137281650