Carl Schmitt III: For an Authentic Democrat, Who are "Friends"?

  

From the moment that Carl Schmitt got cozy with the National Socialist Party in pre-WWII Germany, it has been nearly impossible to separate his famous "Friend-Enemy" distinction from a virulent anti-Semitism according to which, from the perspective of "real Germans," Jews should be seen as "others": worthless--but nevertheless dangerous--enemies. Of course, the fact that Schmitt did occasionally exhibit loathing both for individual Jews and Jewishness in general can't help but reinforce that idea. 

But the claim that any sound democratic theory depends on something like an Us versus Them picture is hard to refute. It is intuitive that only some people should be allowed to vote and make laws, and that others should have no piece of that authority. It might be thought that this privilege is just a matter of where one lives (or has lived for a while), but maybe that's not enough. Back in the 1870s, Ferdinand Tonnies divided the civilized world into two basic groups: forthright, family-centric, communitarian country folk on one side and a more atomistic/selfish, cunning urban elite on the other. The two groups didn't seem to him like they consisted of the same people. And before Tonnies, (the sainted) John Locke didn't seem to care a whit how long native Americans had resided in the new world or how recently the sons of England had gotten there: no "natural rights" could ever pertain to "savages"!

Today, many "liberals" are willing to sweetly intone that all men are brothers (and even include various non-males in their hymn), but may not agree on which of their many brethren (and maybe sisters) should be entitled to voting rights. Not babies and toddlers certainly; maybe not teens and pre-teens. (Vivek Ramaswamy is in favor of raising the voting age to 25--a bar some may suggest he only recently conquered himself). There are also differences of opinion regarding voting rights for felons, ex-felons, and the aged or demented. And the specifics of residency requirements are commonly contested as well. It may be worth noting in this context that at a recent Republican debate, Ron De Santis suggested to abundant applause that many Mexicans deserve nothing more than to be rendered "stone cold dead" for setting foot in Florida. But as all these issues are discussed at length in my book, I won't take them up here.

But I do want to mention here that humanness might be thought unnecessary as well as insufficient for voting status. For example, in her recent book on political legitimacy, Fabienne Peter makes correctness, or at least satisfactory epistemic standing, necessary--and perhaps sufficient too--for a vote to be counted. She is concerned that if a substantial portion of people continue to get issues like global warming wrong, everybody might die. So she joins long-standing paternalists and anti-government types like Jason Brennan in claiming that some folks may just be too stupid or ignorant to be allowed to have any authority over the rest of us. My point here is that if correctness is key, it might be best to give the wise and beneficent non-human visitor depicted in The Day the Earth Stood Still or a disinterested digital brainiac like ChatGPT all the votes. If democracy means that votes should be counted only if they're not wrong (or are at least sufficiently evidenced), we might better turn things completely over to the extremely wise. 

The danger with that approach, as depicted  in M.T. Anderson's Landscape With Invisible Hand (soon to be a television series!) is that extra-terrestrials  might be very intelligent but only seem to be benevolent. In Anderson's engaging book, the alien Vuvv, who may resemble granite tables but can outcompete human beings at pretty much everything, are quick to share their advanced tech with us lowlifes, but end up turning humankind into a fairly complacent colony of impoverished idolators whose main purpose becomes the entertainment of their overlords. The Vuvv may be correct about everything, but it seems clear that they are unlikely to cast any votes that might benefit us if it isn't even more good for them. It seems clear that Anderson believes that those who collaborate with--or indeed suck up to--the Vuvv should be seen as pathetic turncoats who have  foolishly abandoned their birthrights.

Returning to those who have always been denizens of terra firma, it's not hard to see why (perhaps Tonnie-inspired) rural Schmittians might believe that urban, globalist elites aren't sufficiently "down home" to be considered one of the "good folks" (especially if they're of the Jewish persuasion). One might say the "form of life" of those globalists is sufficiently different for them to be treated in much the same way Locke considered apt for the Onondagas: not because the city dwellers are "savages," but because "down home country decency" is simply beyond them.

Ludwig Wittgenstein famously suggested that if lions could talk we'd never understand them. In his view, Simba's radically different form of life must make him forever unintelligible to humans. But, of course, Native Americans and European invaders of the new world did learn to understand each other passably well. And ChatGPT is called a "large language model" precisely because of the lovely way it has been taught to "understand" and communicate with human beings. In the two sci-fi stories mentioned above, the aliens and earthlings, though wildly different, nevertheless seem capable of communicating with each other pretty well, either with a stern Nictu barrata! or some gurgles. 

So there are a bunch of choices that one might have to make if one is to be an authentic democrat. The array of options ranges all the way from ruling out everybody that annoys one in some way to including everybody who can understand what a vote does. One might constrict territories to neighborhoods or extend them to the far reaches of distant galaxies. One can even allow in non-organic computing mechanisms based solely on the possibility of reaching a perhaps weak sort of mutual understanding. One might stop anywhere on a road that stretches between the inclusion of  those who are "dumb as a stick" on one end and a place requiring a lofty epistemic footing on the other. Are there answers that are more sensible than others...or is it all just a matter of picking a place we like?

Well, in a way, both. As I always say, to move forward in philosophy one has to start somewhere. My own launching pad is generally to exalt democracy and see where it takes me. But, of course, to advocate for "self-government," one needs to know what the "self" refers to in that term. Who is it, precisely, that I'm saying should get to govern themselves? Who is included, who sent off? Was Schmitt right that this is simply a question of power? While I don't specifically discuss extra-terrestrials or AI entities in my book, I think many of the relevant questions are taken up there. For example, I spend a good deal of space on territories, residence, and mental competence, so I won't go into those matters again here. But is there anything I can say about the claimed necessity of sharing a "form of life"? Put another way, wherever we land on a residency requirement, do we have to include computing machines or Vuvv visitors if they stay around long enough to meet it?

I would say No and Yes, respectively to that question. In my view, one which follows from what I call "CHOICE voluntarism," a position inspired by some fairly obscure writings of early 20th Century American philosopher Everett Hall, the only defensible basis for majoritarianism requires that each individual be granted the same value as every other, and that is a position which itself must be based on the assumption that each choice has the same value (though perhaps a different fecundity) regardless of a desire's intensity or its wisdom. This concept of choosing requires wantings, and as AI machines don't have those, they don't qualify as possible voters. In other words, they mustn't be allowed suffrage because the sort of value machines can have is only instrumental. We may be (indeed we often should be) interested in their recommendations, but we never have any obligation to take one. But alien life forms are different. If (i) they want things; and (ii) we can understand each other on some basic level, then if we are living together (i.e., in the same territory) we must each of us be allowed one vote. I doubt there are any better ways of distinguishing "forms of life" than Wittgenstein's language-based one, so that's what I recommend using. Thus, persons share a form of life if and only if they can learn to understand each other's languages. If we begin to include items like "comfort" or "weirdness" or "trustworthiness" among our criteria, the Schmittians (and their current anti-elitist successors) will have won the day. 

I don't know how many Vuvv visitors Anderson took to be present in his story. But if they stay  around long enough, I think their votes should be counted. Furthermore, even if they do not meet the residency requirements for voting, as they are persons according to our "form of life" criterion, it's my view that no unfair discrimination (in either direction) should be countenanced. They may rise to the top economically, physically, or intellectually: that's as may be. And they may not be terribly nice. But when there are disagreements on policy (i.e., what we should do, not what is true) the majority must rule. [I don't deny that counting votes of "compound persons" like "The Borg" or determining whether an allegedly emotionless Vulcan like "Mr. Spock" may properly be said to want something. Such questions are difficult. But, sadly, philosophy--like other excellent things--is  nearly always difficult (as well as rare).] For the authentic democrat, it can't matter at all how much smarter Vuvv may be than humans. Or how weird they seem.

In sum, our Friends are those who (i) live in our territories long enough; (ii) have desires; and (iii) understand both our language and what it means to vote. They, i.e., WE together, constitute the entirety of the citizenry. That is US. And, at least for me, our Enemies are those who believe that they exclusively (or some other person or group they can point to) should get to make the laws because they are wiser or better or cooler or folksier or better looking or less weird or the only really good people--the only people that one really ought to trust. That is an anti-democratic, authoritarian position that I believe must be  resisted at every turn.