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from:
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Click Here: <A HREF="http://www.zolatimes.com/V3.43/pageone.html">Laissez
Faire City Times - Volume 3 Issue 43</A>
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November 8, 1999 - Volume 3, Issue 43
Editor & Chief: Emile Zola
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Principles of Internet Law



by Wolf DeVoon

Folks who speculate about nontraditional legal systems generally have my
blessing, however misguided their efforts. It is more important to talk about
smashing the state, than it is to make sense. Lord knows, I've postponed the
job of defining a laissez faire philosophy of law as long as possible (more
than 20 years) because political innovation is a difficult, thankless task.
It consists mainly of squinting at a blank, featureless landscape, strewn
with dust and ashes, shrouded in the fog of a thousand hostile engagements.
However, we're in a kind of emergency situation now, and the court of public
opinion is threatening to hold me in contempt, unless I present my case.
Internet law (or rather, the absence of laissez faire legal principles) has
attracted the attention of territorial sovereigns and institutional scholars,
most of whom are whistling the punch-drunk melody of fascism in three-part
harmony. Worse: young, well-intentioned webslingers have filed an amicus
brief, suggesting that Internet law is unnecessary and that non-coercive,
voluntary arbitration could solve the problem of due process.
In the second part of this document, I will rebut the arguments of opposing
counsel (Joel P. Trachtman, Roderick T. Long). But to understand why their
proposals are inadequate, we must initially consider basic principles and
construct a theory of laissez faire jurisprudence from the bottom up.

Part One - Constitutional Law

THE IDEA OF LEGALITY I'll begin by quoting a paragraph from Government Is a
Quack Faith-Healer, which identifies the context, necessity, and goal of due
process:

Ayn Rand had the right idea. The guiltiest of men are the natural oligarchs,
who abdicated their leadership of an anarcho-capitalist revolution. Instead
of giving Harry Truman the atomic bomb, it could have and should have been
developed in a laboratory at Galt's Gulch. This is the moral meaning of
inequality. When the men of brains collaborate with a mob of dullards, it's
unfair to blame the resultant calamity on a crowd of pickpockets and
cheerleaders. Sadly, a moral principle never reaches beyond itself. Its
ethical arms are too short, extending no farther than one man's soul, one
man's purpose and lifespan. We have to look elsewhere for political guidance,
because the thing at issue is "a nation of laws and not of men."
Whether the nation is defined by physical or anonymous digital territory, the
constitution of its legal system cannot be deduced rationally from one
person's moral purpose, however noble. I am a great admirer of morality.
Frankly, I wish I had more of it—because I seldom know with certainty the
consequences of my actions, and because every artist would gladly trade
justice for money. In this, filmmakers are no different than dogs, hoping to
eat and fuck without moral or political constraint (i.e., quit my day job
tomorrow and spend $5 million of other people's money making an art movie
that will flop at the box office).
If you are uncomfortable with the expression "a nation of laws," feel free to
substitute "a household of laws" or "a cyberspace of laws." The size of a
court's jurisdiction is unimportant. What matters is that no man should be
allowed to judge his own cause. The essence of due process is a legal (i.e.,
formalized and fair) proceeding in which one or more parties bring a case or
controversy into open court, for the purpose of adjudication by impersonal
law. The duty of a judge is similar to that of a medical doctor. He admits
the evidence, conducts objective tests, and prescribes an appropriate legal
remedy.
Because no man should be allowed to judge his own cause, monarchy and other
forms of arbitrary government yielded to liberal democracy. It was a
substantial improvement in terms of due process. No longer could a king or
baron dispose of his "subjects" unilaterally by whim or categorical
privilege. And whatever else you may feel about the American Experiment, it
gave the world an example of impersonal due process of law, mainly thanks to
the U.S. Constitution, which created for the courts an independent
jurisdiction, unrelated to legislation or executive order. Readers who are
curious about the original intent of the U.S. Constitution should study
Madison's Debates In The Federal Convention. While delegates fought each
other stubbornly for two months in the summer of 1787, struggling toward a
dissatisfying compromise with respect to representation, legislation, and
state government powers, few questioned the wisdom of an independent
judiciary, competent in their own right to define due process and to perform
retail justice at every level of the new U.S. system.
I am keenly aware of corruption among Federal and state judges. This does not
diminish the effectiveness of due process. In fact, due process is the only
thing that limits judicial corruption. Cases proceed in public. Parties have
a right to be heard and to confront each other in court. Decisions are
published.
Much of the U.S. constitutional language, especially in the Bill of Rights,
was a reaction to colonial experience. Habeas corpus. Speedy trial. No
unreasonable searches and seizures. No billeting of soldiers in private
homes. Freedom of assembly. The right to bear arms. Trial by jury.
In a similar and natural way, many people suppose that our experience on the
Internet (and its discernible potential to frustrate territorial sovereigns)
should be the logical subject matter of laissez faire law. This is,
unfortunately, wrong -- for the same reason that the Bill of Rights was
constitutionally fatal to liberty in the United States. The framers knew that
a laundry list of "rights" was a bad idea, because it reversed the notion of
enumerated powers, and indeed history proved them correct. When you
concretely define justice as a list of do's and don'ts, you implicitly deny
the existence and validity of first principles.
With enormous confidence, contemporary writers have declared that the state
is a permanent institution, the most efficient means of producing "social
goods" (public justice, air traffic control, world peace, etc). Any fair
reading of U.S. constitutional history makes plain how this paradigm
hardened. Enumerated powers gave way to Hamilton's doctrine of "implied
powers," especially during the Civil War epoch. Fifty years later, the New
Deal ring-fenced a half dozen "preferred freedoms" (free speech, equal
protection of law), granting regulatory power over the entire economy to new
Federal bureaucracies. Freedom got smaller and smaller, and the police power
grew larger and larger, paradoxically because a nervous Virginia Assembly
demanded a Bill of Rights in 1789.
Everywhere you go in the U.S. nowadays (hospitals, prisons, bus stations,
factories), you are immediately confronted by huge legal notices enumerating
your "rights" and "responsibilities" as a patient, a prisoner, a passenger,
or employee. What this amounts to in reality is a puff of anesthetic smoke
that affords no due process, because all claims are decided by an
administrative flunky of the Executive Branch when he or she feels like
opening the mail. You are at least three administrative appeals and years
away from pleading your case in a state or Federal court.
Whatever we fashion in cyberspace, please, no Internet Bill of Rights. More
importantly, we must cease to think of Internet law as an unique category of
parties and mechanisms. At our peril, we must not repeat the error made by
the colonial American founding fathers, hoping to curb specific abuses. It is
a triviality that some cyberplayers will defraud the public, and it is dangero
us to speak of voluntary arbitration and comment forums as "due process of
law." Arbitration presupposes voluntary submission to court orders, without
police power of enforcement. Comment forums are little better than slander,
lacking rules of evidence, testimony in open court, cross-examination, and
enforceable penalties for perjury. I can scarcely think of a worse mechanism
of due process, than the "moral suasion" of a toothless, gossiping wall
newspaper.
The lesson of history is that law ought to be an impartial arbiter of
justice, and that order consists of enforcing the law. In my view, this does
not necessarily imply sovereignty, democracy, or a professional bar. Just as
commercial law was evolved from business practices (bills of exchange,
agency, bonds, holder in due course), criminal law can be evolved from our
knowledge of human affairs, without reference to parens patriae.
THE DUTY OF JURISDICTION
Like all liberals and most libertarians, I am forced to quote Thomas
Jefferson, because he did all the heavy lifting two centuries ago. Unlike my
competitors, however, I know which epigram to recite and why it matters:

The earth belongs in usufruct to the living; the dead can have neither power
over it, nor right to it.
Note the factual orientation here. The dead have no power to control
anything. They have no right to obstruct decisions made by the living.
Therefore, social settlements concluded in the past by people who are now
deceased impose no obligation in the present. Presto—the right of revolution!
It also means that the doctrine of stare decisis ("let judicial precedent
stand") is basically rubbish. I appreciate that it is important to business
people that law should be predictable and constant. However, it is more
important to freedom that justice be understood as an evolving knowledge of
truth and consequences. In Jefferson's time, the law of the land was
monarchy. Without the right of revolution, the Declaration of Independence
was logically impossible. This is the meaning of legal process—to discover
justice by examining the claims of live litigants, instead of blindly
applying the doctrines of dead authorities. We call it "due process" when
nothing is hidden: justice must be done on the record, with reasons given for
every procedural and substantive decision.
It is certainly the case that different judges will perceive justice
differently, and that a potential exists for conflict among multiple courts.
The appellate system offers a workable solution. And the tradition of comity
requires judges to respect (or at least, take notice of) the law in other
jurisdictions. But long before anyone can arrange for judicial conferences or
review of reversible error, we must solve the problem of original
jurisdiction.
Let's suppose that you are head of a household. Kid A punches Kid B in the
nose, hard enough to require a documented visit to the doctor. You are de
facto jurist for your own family. A cause of action is lodged by your wife,
representing Kid B, whom she says was minding his own business when Kid A
punched him. Due process requires a hearing in the living room. The
complainant is sworn to tell the truth under penalty of appropriate sanctions
for perjury (no TV for a week, if proved guilty of fibbing or exaggerating).
Sure enough, he looks as innocent as a wounded lamb. But on cross-examination
by a neighbor lady, representing the defendant, it's revealed that Kid B
called Kid A a "dumbshit" and laughed at him. This amounted to fighting
words, a legally cogent defense. From the sofa, you interrogate everybody and
end up believing that both kids are idiots. Case dismissed, with a warning
about seeing either of them in your living room court ever again, because it
pisses you off to have to deal with juvenile delinquents.
Jurisdiction in your own home is undeniable, if you have children. They are
going to squabble. You will have to settle disputes and enforce the law from
time to time. No one else is competent to do it. But what about breach of
contract, torts, nuisances, and criminal wrongs in the larger community?
Nothing is substantially different. Neighbor A punches Neighbor B in the
nose, and offers the same defense. The parties end up in your living room
because you're a lawyer, and your wife arrested both of them with the family
shotgun, locking them in separate closets until you got home from a hard day
at your law office downtown. This time, however, the whole thing is done on
the record, and your nitwit neighbors are released on their own recognizance,
promising to return on Saturday afternoon for a hearing. You issue a
preliminary restraining order to both of them, to stay clear of each other
until Saturday. At the hearing Saturday, each party is represented by
counsel. Defendant wants a jury trial, so the whole thing is postponed again,
jurors are selected, etc. Finally it comes to trial, and the jury decide that
Neighbor A is guilty of aggravated battery. His defense of "fighting words"
is rejected, because Neighbor B is a mild-mannered accountant who denied
saying anything about the defendant's sister. They also reject the theory
that Neighbor A was maliciously harmed by Neighbor B's refusal to lend him
money. Being a thoughtful judge, you decide that the matter of criminal
punishment in this case should not be burdensome to the innocent, so you
order the bailiff (a particularly ferocious neighbor who, thankfully, is an
officer of the court instead of a bully) to punch Neighbor A in the nose in
retribution on behalf of Neighbor B and the public good, and you further
order the guilty defendant to pay court costs, since he demanded a jury
trial. The official nose-punching takes place in public, so that other
neighborhood nitwits see the penalty for criminal conduct. Case closed.
While I appreciate that you might have ruled differently in the above
criminal case, or that you perhaps object as a matter of principle to any
form of coercive third-party government, I assure you that due process and
public trial make more sense than do-nothing passivity. It is negligent
malpractice for a doctor to withhold treatment from an individual patient or
from the community at large, simply because he didn't feel like doing
anything. The essential and defining purposes of medical practice are to save
life and to ameliorate suffering. The essential and defining purposes of
legal practice are to defend the innocent and to ameliorate wrongful acts.
Call it a duty, to ourselves and others.
As you perhaps may already know from reading some of my other essays on
government, I am not a big fan of "duty." Jefferson's right of revolution
specifically exempts you from any and all responsibility imposed by
tradition, legislation, or peer pressure. At this juncture, we are not
talking about your right to do nothing. We are instead discussing the origins
of jurisdiction and the sworn duty of lawyers and judges. Just as an agent
promises to faithfully obey the instructions of his principal, and a
principal is bound by the actions of his faithful agent, lawyers voluntarily
assume a duty of care and confidentiality when they undertake to legally
represent a client. Judges assume a larger duty of care, without the
protection and flexibility of secrecy, when they are appointed to the bench
as "lawyer for the community."
It takes a special type of person to command the confidence of the public in
any capacity—especially as a guardian of law and order. I am not referring
here to extant terrestrial governments, but rather to the prospect of a
laissez faire jurisdiction, based on earned respect and diligence. Benjamin
Franklin devised a pretty good procedure for the selection of judges, during
the Constitutional Convention in 1787. It's a pity that he wasn't taken
seriously. He suggested that lawyers should elect judges, because they will
almost certainly choose the most successful and most reputable of their
number, in order to divide his lucrative law practice among themselves.
Whatever method is chosen for the selection of law judges, and however their
jurisdictions and appellate hierarchy may be organized, it is a first
principle of justice that no man should judge his own cause. If the judge has
any personal interest in a case, or a personal relationship with any of the
parties, it is plain error if he fails to recuse himself. I know that this
doesn't solve all the problems of public justice (e.g., racial
discrimination, corruption, law enforcement), but we won't go far wrong by
upholding two fundamental principles:

(1) It is the duty of a judge to hear all of the relevant evidence and legal
arguments in a case and to afford all interested parties an opportunity to
testify on the record in open court; and
(2) It is the responsibility of a judge to decide every case on the facts in
evidence and the merits of legal argument offered by competent counsel,
without undue reliance on precedent, disregarding passion or prejudice, in
the interests of justice.
How well this works in practice depends on who the judges are. If we accept
Franklin's method of appointment, the competence and fairness of judges will
depend on who the lawyers are. Since lawyers cannot practice without clients,
ultimately, the most economically successful merchants, bankers, and skilled
professionals will determine who practices law and who doesn't. Nobody in his
right mind wants a dumbshit con artist to represent him.
The American Experiment began with lawyers, none of whom were elected to
office or appointed by George III. They read the law in two or three volumes
of legal commentaries and a handful of reported decisions. Like Abraham
Lincoln, who practiced law a century later, the colonial American bar was
guided by reason and practicality. They wrote the Declaration of Independence
in consultation with businessmen, bankers, and clergy—and pledged their
lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to the defense of simple
equity. We can do no less, if liberty is to be preserved for ourselves and
our innocent posterity.
THE FORCE OF LAW
Sounds like a contradiction in terms, doesn't it?—laissez faire law and
order— especially since a fair translation of the French phrase is: "Let us
alone!" It is particularly hard to swallow the notion of law enforcement, if
you believe that coercion is the root of all evil and that voluntary
intercourse is a categorical moral imperative (a Platonic-Kantian
thing-in-itself).
Nor am I willing to split hairs and accept John Hospers' thesis that the
altruistic coercion of children and incompetent senior citizens is
permissible, for their own good. I want this debate to be as straight up and
down as possible. Either coercion is wrong, or it ain't. I say it ain't.

Let's put this on a sensible basis. Force is good. I like force. I wish I had
more of it at my disposal, and that I was able to wave a battalion or two at
my enemies. (Government Is a Quack Faith- Healer)
I hope you understand that there is a contest in life between the good guys
and the bad guys. The decision to kill, albeit terrible and irreversible, is
not the most important question. Who to kill, when to kill, and why are major
premises. Dagny Taggart walked up to a guard and shot him dead, knowing
nothing about his guilt or innocence, believing only that (maybe) he posed a
threat to Galt's freedom and safety. Francisco shot a couple dozen
steelworkers because he thought Hank Rearden was deserving of life, at any
price, including war.
I am not now arguing the law of assault, which justifies preemptive action if
you have reasonable cause to believe that your life or the life of another is
in peril. Rather, I am suggesting that force is a natural and necessary part
of life. We kill insects and animals every day, round the clock, in every
nation of the world. We routinely tell our children and employees what to do,
threatening a variety of punishments if they disobey or don't work hard
enough to please us. The recurring human predicament is how much force to
use?
I'd much rather entrust the job of coercion to a laissez faire judge and
jury, sworn to impartial due process, rather than let folks kill each other
whenever they felt like it. No man should judge his own cause. Crime
detection and law enforcement (execution of court orders) are necessary and
desirable extensions of impartial due process -- not because they serve "the
greatest good of the greatest number," but rather to even the odds of
judicial success. No criminal has ever volunteered to turn himself in, show
up in court, endure whatever punishment the law provides, and quit being a
bad guy. Trust me. I met 2,000 bad guys in prison. Not one of them went to
court voluntarily.
If you agree with me that the decision to kill is a terrible one, perhaps
you'll support my argument for a female judiciary. See Bad Cop No Donut.
However, regardless of which sex adjudicates or enforces the law, their
actions must be governed by something other than a personal grudge. The
enforcement of law and order is a skilled trade, no different than cleaning
toilets for a living. Often, it's hard to tell them apart—because cops do the
dirty work of investigating horror and tragedy. Janitors have it relatively
easy, in my opinion. If there's blood on the floor, they call the cops.
BLOOD ON THE INTERNET
It has been asserted (wrongly) that the Internet lacks any means of violence
or coercion, and that cyberspace is a virtual environment which only vaguely
and remotely intersects "meatspace." If either of those Third Wave
assumptions was true, I'd pack up my law books and go home.
Just as a telephone can be used to deliver a threat, or to plan a terrorist
attack, the transmission of digital ones and zeroes is not inherently benign.
Whatever power and productivity you imagine the Internet will bestow upon
mankind, there is an equal and opposite threat of evil lurking on the web.
Encryption and anonymity merely raise the stakes. Criminals become twice as
hard to catch. You can be murdered in your bathtub by a stolen password
(literally murdered in "meatspace," if you installed home automation or an
alarm system). While everyone else has been jabbering about the security of
cyberspace bank accounts and digital cash, I've been thinking about your
physical security at home. If the world economy takes a tumble in transition
from Second Wave to Third Wave regimes, it will anoint a few cyber-rich and
curse many cyber-poor. Without a doubt, some blood is going to be spilled in
meatspace as a consequence.
Moreover, your desktop box and browser are targets for vandals, competitors,
and disgruntled employees. Everything in cyberspace is ultimately physical,
ultimately someone's property, a battlefield contest between good guys and
bad guys. As pleased as I was to hear that ABC-TV's website was defaced by
juvenile delinquents recently, it bodes dark tidings for the Third Wave. In a
worst case scenario, with sufficient social chaos, the Third Wave could very
well become another Third Reich, intolerant of "communist" hackers.
Conditions today are not much different than pre-Hitler Germany, if you
consider how many bushels of euros or Siberian petrodollars it takes to buy a
loaf of worthless Yahoo.
If it's true that encrypted cybercash and anonymous trading enterprises are
coming soon to a post-industrial economy near you, don't you think that maybe
the terrestrial sovereigns might get a wee bit pissed off? After all, it
means losing some (maybe a lot) of their tax revenue. Where is the Third Wave
militia, to stop FinCEN and the FBI from attacking your meatspace life and
liberty? Are you prepared to defend yourself, if shit comes to holler?—or
would you rather have a laissez faire circuit court declare that it is
laissez faire constitutional to raise a laissez faire army to defend
cyberspace? If that same court finds that someone betrayed the Third Wave
militia, are you going to object to capital punishment? Is it possible that a
business rival could "frame" you and make it look like you're a cybermole
who's working for the bad guys?
If so, rejoice. Laissez faire judges don't kill people or seize their assets
without due process. Accusations of treason are considered extremely serious
(automatic jury trial and appellate review in case of conviction). Any breach
in the custody of evidence or criminal procedure is ample ground for
dismissal, and there's no double jeopardy. You can't be tried twice for the
same treason.
I realize that this implies a laissez faire "government," capable of
collecting our own version of "taxes." At the moment, I'd rather not discuss
financial details. My general theory in opposition to Robert Nozick is that a
strong laissez faire security agency will emerge, no different than the Sons
of Liberty in 1775. They had plenty of financial problems, too—but it didn't
stop them from declaring political independence and eventually kicking George
III's butt.
PROPERTY RIGHTS, WRONGS, AND REMEDIES
A laissez faire constitution shouldn't try to do too much, especially if we
can incorporate a body of law that works just fine (probate, family law,
equity, etc). However, as I indicated in previous writing, I think we need to
redefine the common law term "property."
Although it is personally unpleasant for me to quarrel with my learned
friends and colleagues, in meatspace reality there are no immortal,
impersonal entities (no corporations, no trusts). All that exists are flesh
and blood people, and if property is to have an understandable legal
definition, it must refer to existential concretes, rather than fictitious
ghosts. It is my fervent hope that laissez faire law and order will proceed
without legislators or elected officials. The last thing we need is another
sovereign, to obfuscate the standing of real, individual men, women, and
children. Human controversies are hard enough to adjudicate, without
endlessly multiplying the number of "legal persons" who can bring suit and
hold property.
Nor am I convinced that property is uniquely personal in any fundamental
sense. Please note that this topic is so subtle to my mind that it is
impossible to explain quickly what the previous sentence implies. I will
write an article about property law in the near future. For now, please
accept my word for it that I am not an advocate of socialism, although the
remainder of this paragraph indicates that I am sympathetic to the plight of
children. When millions are starving, it seems bizarre to me that someone
else acquired their right to survive, by virtue of his power to share or
refuse to share a storehouse of food (or agricultural land, or machinery, or
electricity). Possession of property is a solemn mission. Most property today
is directly or indirectly controlled by fictitious territorial "sovereigns"
and tribal warlords. The goal of laissez faire civil justice, I believe, is
to shred as many these unearned property deeds as possible and to cease
wasting energy on legal fictions.
Furthermore, it's time to junk Roman contract law. The domestic dispute of Rea
rden v Rearden in Atlas Shrugged proves that no "pound of flesh" covenant can
be or ought to be enforced against a living individual. The only thing a
person owns outright is his or her liberty. Often, we make bad bargains.
Laissez faire courts cannot remedy someone's vanity. We make promises that
can't be kept. Laissez faire courts cannot compel performance of a folly.
The best we can do is to draw the line at murder and slavery, brutality and
degradation—and if commercial agreements seem patently onerous, laissez faire
judges might interpret the intent of rapacious litigants to be a crime
against humanity. I don't wish to speak for my brother and sister jurists,
who will hear the facts of each case and determine what seems fair and
equitable. But I doubt very much that any laissez faire judge will agree to
further empower an absentee mortgage arbitrageur at the expense of indigent
children.
If this seems confusing, it should not. Courts are not operated by robots. A
judge is first of all a human being, no different than you or I. His authority
 flows from the respect and confidence of the community—and I would be
willing to bet that most communities are populated by decent and
compassionate human beings. Take away the evil of "nation-state" sovereignty,
and you'll find that few men and women are cruel to one another. Yes, there
will be torts and nuisances to settle. A few cases might go all the way to
jury trial. I am not arguing that due process should evaporate, if Citizen A
wrecks Citizen B's septic tank.
But the Internet is no one's property. Possession of a password is as close
as you'll ever get to owning a fraction of its social total. If you are a
fraudulent cyberbanker, or a racketeer, the court could issue a bench warrant
for your arrest—or do nothing—depending on the judge's view of
responsibility. In my opinion, the right to life is contingent. I feel very
little compassion for chumps, especially overfed burghers who presume that
they can use the courts to force a scam artist to honor some ridiculous,
pie-in-the-sky promise. The whole of my empathy is reserved for those who
have nothing and for whom life is a struggle. See Brooks v Taggart (in Atlas
Shrugged).
Money damages do not remedy loss of life, or the disfigurement of a child, or
the pain and suffering caused by negligence. Because the right to life is
contingent on responsibility, I am inclined to uphold the principle of caveat
emptor and to let competition reward good conduct. It is a difficult burden
of proof, to adduce that someone was tricked and cheated, or wrongfully
injured, through no fault of his own. An infant may be exempt from this
burden, because he knows so little about the world. But not an adult.
McDonalds can stop printing notices on their coffee cups, announcing that
"Hot coffee is hot."
I'm an old-fashioned sort of guy. I believe in the code of Hammurabi—an eye
for an eye. Left to my own notion of justice, I would impose some pretty
barbaric remedies for medical malpractice and vehicular bodily injury.
Perhaps this will inspire out-of-court settlements. But finally, it's up to
the plaintiff's attorney to ask for a remedy and the jury to decide what to
award. Judges play a small but significant role in tort cases, preserving a
sense of fair play and decorum during what must of necessity be a tedious and
grisly reiteration of a tragedy that no sane person can contemplate with much
pleasure.

Part 2 - Reply to Arguments of Opposing Counsel


International law is the sculptor's tool in the hand of world history,
constantly shaping and reshaping the state and other institutions. Of course,
the state is also shaped and re-shaped by its own law -- by domestic law. It
is in this sense that international law and domestic law are joined in a
single project of social design.
-- Joel P. Trachtman
It often amazes me how scholars can trot out Hegelian claptrap, as if there
were nothing else to say about humanity or justice. And it is embarrassing to
have to point out what's wrong with this picture. "World history" is an
imperfect record of achievements and errors made by individual men and
women—millions of them—not one, huge Immortal Entity on Autopilot driving
human affairs.
Professor Trachtman made his ridiculous claim about "a single project of
social design" in a recent essay on Internet law1 and concluded that

Far from being the friend of free speech, the Internet may be the ideal
mechanism for supervision of speech. Thus, cyberspace may hold the potential
to be a diabolical tool of totalitarian control, allowing the state finally
the technological means to keep track of what its citizens are saying,
reading, buying and, through computer analysis of large amounts of
information, thinking. Thus, while the Internet may, as Perritt says, indeed
be a powerful engine of open government, it may also be a powerful vehicle of
the closed society, providing finally the technological means to attack
individuals' heretofore private lives.
In your dreams, professor.
Pretty Good Privacy2 was only a symbolic gesture, like the Boston Tea Party,
in celebration of cyber-independence. No doubt the United States will try to
impose something akin to a Stamp Tax on websites—and that's when the real
battle will begin in earnest. For all of its mighty computer power, the NSA
today is no differently constituted than the Royal Navy was in 1775. They
have a chain of command. They cannot concentrate their power everywhere at
once (Russia, Mexico, New York City, Istanbul). We are insurgents. We are
everywhere and mirrored behind every tree. What Trachtman and others
mystically proclaimed to be "world history" was in fact the stop-start, timid
exercise of human reason. The Dark Ages were dark because fear and
destitution were encouraged by the Church (a forerunner of the NSA). We don't
intend to buy it this time.

The purpose of the legislative function is to determine the rules that will
govern the process of adjudication. Legislation tells the judicial function
how to adjudicate. The legislative process may be distinct from the judicial
process, as when a legislature passes laws and the courts subsequently apply
them; or the two processes may coincide, as when a common-law body of
legislation arises through a series of judicial precedents.
-- Roderick T. Long3
Four sentences, four incorrect premises.
The purpose of the legislative function is to express the will of a mob, the
lowest common denominator, and a gang of glad-handing shamans. I want nothing
to do with them. All you get from the masses is Neilsen ratings and beer
commercials, McDonalds and the NFL. The catalog of disasters in American
legislation is so thick with cupidity that I refuse to discuss it.
No one tells judges how to adjudicate, not even in the creaky, cantankerous
U.S. legal system. The rules of evidence and legal procedure were written by
judges and judicial conferences—not legislators. Politicians don't get the
time of day from the U.S. Supreme Court, because the judiciary are a separate
branch of government with an independent, co-equal public duty. Since Chief
Justice John Marshall's decision in Marbury v Madison, two hundred years ago,
courts have had the power to void unconstitutional legislation.
The legislative process is distinct from the judicial, only insofar as
laissez faire judges allow it to proceed at all. We don't intend to repeat
the tragedy of the U.S. democracy. American jurisprudence went haywire during
the Civil War and never recovered, which is why I detest the law school
theory of "positive law" (i.e., the legislated will of the sovereign state).
Common law is emphatically not legislation. It is the settled understanding
of mankind, which amounts to two propositions, reminiscent of my childhood. I
was the eldest of five boys. I can still hear my mother shouting at us from
the kitchen window: "Don't kill each other, and argue quietly!"
CONCLUDING REMARKS
I am probably unsuited to a judgeship. I have no patience for anyone who says
that the law is an ass, or that balloon drops at a political convention are
more important than reason. I don't want to hear a single syllable about the
"practical necessity" of a democratic, sovereign state—without or without
international New World Order treaties and junkets. To hell with corporate
sovereigns.
All the legislative cantons (virtual or otherwise) mean nothing in terms of
due process, when a man's life and liberty hang in the balance.
This is indeed the mission of a judiciary, however constituted—to assess the
guilt or innocence of an accused; to weigh the conflicting claims of
plaintiffs and defendants, petitioners and respondents. The court is a
powerful institution in historic terms, able to compel the production of
evidence and to impose or release anyone from punishment. It can restrain
action, penalize actors, take property, and imprison those who refuse to
answer questions. Judges routinely pierce the veil of corporate and official
anonymity, holding natural persons—not fictitious trademarks—responsible for
civil and criminal wrongs.
The concept of "wrong" is fundamental to the administration of justice. It's
not an ethical term, but a logical and judicial one, implied by due process.
No man should judge his own cause (True or false, right or wrong?) If false,
courts would not exist; you'd have a right to conduct your affairs any way
you please. If it's true, that no man should judge his own cause, then
judicial procedures must be objective and fair. Anything less would be wrong
as a matter of legal principle.
Whether you conceive laissez faire justice as a temple, high on a
mountaintop, where robed jurists parade ceremonially every autumn—or a single
barefoot lawyer, attempting to reason with two nitwits who hate each
other—the goal of adjudication is to separate passion from the factual
evidence and prejudice from the public good. I don't think it matters how big
a jurisdiction is. What matters is that law should exist, wherever people
want to live in freedom for longer than twenty minutes. For law is the thin
blue line that shelters peaceful private life, punishes evil, and strives
remorselessly to defend the innocent.
With many innocent to serve, and many nitwits to educate, it seems certain
that laissez faire lawyers will be among the first Internet professionals to
actually earn a living in cyberspace. No doubt we will be scorned and
ridiculed. But our traditional role will be welcome again, when it comes time
to declare political independence and human equality as a matter of
principle, as Jefferson and Lincoln, Franklin and Madison did with quill and
ink. It is to them we owe our knowledge of right and wrong, our hope of
justice and pleasant intercourse. It is to them we owe our digital thanks :-)
As a postscript, I append a quotation from Atlas Shrugged. Mr. Mowen of
Amalgamated Switch & Signal is complaining about the exodus of taxpayers and
productive citizens from Connecticut—highly predictive of our future under
laissez faire law and the cyberspace it will govern. Be prepared for many,
many "compassionate conservatives" to echo Mowen's disdain of a free society:

I don't see it. It's a backward, primitive, unenlightened place. They don't
even have a modern government. It's the worst government in any state. The
laziest. It does nothing—outside of keeping law courts and a police
department.

NOTES

1. "Cyberspace, Sovereignty, Jurisdiction and Modernism" (June 1998) by Joel
P. Trachtman, associate professor of international law, Fletcher School of
Law and Diplomacy. Written for the Indiana University School of Law
"Symposium on the Internet and the Sovereign State: The Role and Impact of
Cyberspace on National and Global Governance."
2. See http://www.pgpi.com
3. "Options for the Body Politic" (Sept 1995) by Roderick T. Long, assistant
professor of philosophy, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
Wolf DeVoon is the author of "Government is a Quack Faith Healer" and many
other articles. He may be reached at [EMAIL PROTECTED]
-30-
from The Laissez Faire City Times, Vol 3, No 43, November 8, 1999
-----
Published by
Laissez Faire City Netcasting Group, Inc.
Copyright 1998 - Trademark Registered with LFC Public Registrar
All Rights Reserved
-----
Aloha, He'Ping,
Om, Shalom, Salaam.
Em Hotep, Peace Be,
Omnia Bona Bonis,
All My Relations.
Adieu, Adios, Aloha.
Amen.
Roads End

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