Architecture of Encounter

I’ve been writing. In fact, I’ve been clarifying A Mediated Encounter Ontology of the World (MEOW) and expanding and extending it into a book with a broader remit. This might well be the cover, following the monograph layout for Philosophics Press.

Image: Mockup of cover art.

As shown, the working title is The Architecture of Encounter: A Mediate Encounter Ontology. I’ve swapped the slate cover for a magenta in this volume.

So what’s it all about?

I’m not going to summarise the book here, but I’ll share some tidbits. I’ve settled on these chapter names:

  1. The Mediated Encounter Ontology
  2. Ontology
  3. Subjecthood
  4. Logic
  5. Epistemology
  6. Perception and Affordances
  7. Language
  8. Social Ontology
  9. Realism
  10. Application
  11. The Normativity Frontier
  12. Conclusion

Chapter 1, The Mediated Encounter Ontology, is a summary and update of the original essay, which will be included in full as an appendix item for reference, but this update will become canonical.

Chapter 2, Ontology: Interaction, Constraint, and the Rejection of Substance, will describe what I mean by ontology and what my proposed ontology looks like.

Chapter 3, Subjecthood: Modal Differentiation Within the Field, will explain how the subject-object relationship changes, and what a subject is in the first place.

Chapter 4, Logic: Coherence Grammar Under Constraint, will explain what logic is and how it operates in this paradigm.

Chapter 5, Epistemology: Convergence, Error, and the Structure of Justification, will describe what knowledge looks like. IYKYK.

Chapter 6, Perception and Affordances: Encounter as Orientation, extends Gibson’s work to comport with MEOW 2.0 (or 1.1).

Chapter 7, Language: Synchronisation, Ontological Grammar, and Structural Limits, explains how language works and how it limits our perception. We’re not talking Sapir-Whorf here, but what respectable language philosopher wouldn’t reserve a chapter for language?

Chapter 8, Social Ontology: Second-Order Constraint Systems. MEOW has a lot to say about first-order constraints, but there are higher-order considerations. I discuss them here.

Chapter 9, Realism: Cross-Perspectival Convergence and the Invariant Anchor, talks about the real elephant in the room. Since MEOW challenges both realism and idealism, we need to talk about it.

Chapter 10, Application: The Apophatic Mind, is mostly an observation on artificial intelligence as it relates to the mind-consciousness debate, primarily scoped around LLMs and similar machine processes.

Chapter 11. The Normativity Frontier, doesn’t yet have a subtitle, but this is where I discuss issues like normative ethics and morality.

I probably don’t need to tell you how Conclusion chapters work.

I expect to have 3 appendices.

  1. Summary of commitments, which will summarise and distil key topics – so like a cheat sheet for reference – a bit more robust than a glossary.
  2. Bibliography of reference material. As this is not an essay, it won’t be chock-full of citations – only a few, where I feel they are necessary. Much of this work represents years of thinking, and in many cases, the attribution has been lost; I remember the contents and not necessarily the attribution. I will prompt AI to fill in some missing pieces, but that’s that. The bibliography attempts to capture the general flavour.
  3. The original MEOW essay. This is already freely available on several platforms, including Zenodo. Download it here if you haven’t already – or wait for the book.

The rest of the story

This book not only extends MEOW, but it also ties in concepts from A Language Insufficiency Hypothesis and other of my already published and yet unpublished work.

I expect to produce a decent amount of explanatory and support material, though to be fair, I tell myself that every time until I get distracted by the next project. I need a producer to manage these affairs.

Comrade Claude (4) – Libertarians and Anarchists

11–16 minutes

This post is part of a series that showcases a dialogue I had with Claude based on the parable of the desert- and lake-dwellers.

Original parables: Two Valleys, The Tunnel

Excavated the ideological tension between libertarian property enforcement and anarchist state rejection

Audio: NotebookLM summary podcast on this topic.
Infographic

Yes. Exactly. This is the libertarian contradiction laid bare.

Libertarians claim to oppose State power while absolutely requiring State violence to maintain the only thing they actually care about: property.

The Libertarian Position, Stated Honestly:

“We want minimal government interference in our lives… except for:

  • Police to prevent theft
  • Courts to enforce contracts
  • Military to defend borders
  • Prisons to punish property violations
  • Legal system to formalize ownership
  • State violence to suppress anyone who challenges property arrangements”

Which is to say: We want the State to do exactly one thing—protect property—but to do it with overwhelming force.

Why Libertarians Need the State:

Without the State’s monopoly on violence, property is just “what you can personally defend.”

And libertarians know—even if they won’t say it—that their property claims only hold because:

The billionaire doesn’t personally defend his estates. The State does.

The landlord doesn’t personally evict tenants. The State does.

The factory owner doesn’t personally suppress labor organization. The State does.

The tech CEO doesn’t personally enforce IP law. The State does.

Remove the State, and property evaporates the moment someone stronger shows up.

Libertarians absolutely understand this. Which is why they insist on:

  • Strong property rights (requires State enforcement)
  • Contract enforcement (requires State courts)
  • Defense against “theft” (requires State police)
  • Border security (requires State military)

The “minimal government” libertarians want is:

Minimal interference with them

Maximum violence against challengers to property

Why Anarchists Reject the State:

Anarchists (particularly left-anarchists) see clearly what libertarians obscure:

The State primarily exists to enforce property relations.

Everything else—welfare, regulation, public services—is negotiable.

But property enforcement? That’s the core function.

Which means:

  • You cannot have property (as stable, inheritable, exclusive rights) without the State
  • You cannot have the State without property enforcement
  • Therefore: opposing the State means opposing property
  • And opposing property means opposing the State

Anarchists follow this logic to its conclusion: If you oppose domination, you must oppose both State and property, because each requires the other.

Libertarians stop halfway: “We oppose State domination… but we absolutely need State violence to maintain our property.”

The Parable, With Libertarians:

Libertarian lake-dwellers say:

“We believe in freedom! Minimal government! Individual liberty! The State shouldn’t interfere in our lives!”

Desert-dwellers: “So we can take water from the lake?”

Libertarians: “Absolutely not! That’s theft! We’ll use State violence to stop you!”

Desert-dwellers: “But you said minimal government?”

Libertarians: “Minimal government for us. Maximum enforcement against you.”

What Libertarians Actually Mean:

When libertarians say “freedom,” they mean:

“Freedom for property owners to do what they want with their property, enforced by State violence against anyone who challenges that property.”

When they say “minimal State,” they mean:

“The State should not tax us, regulate us, or redistribute from us. But it absolutely must use violence to protect our property from the propertyless.”

When they say “individual liberty,” they mean:

“The liberty of those who already have property to exclude those who don’t.”

The Asymmetry:

Libertarian “freedom”:

  • State should not interfere with MY choices
  • State absolutely must prevent YOU from interfering with MY property

This only sounds like freedom if you ignore that property itself is State interference—just interference that benefits current owners.

Why Anarchists Are More Consistent:

Anarchists say:

“The State is an instrument of domination. Property is an instrument of domination. Both must be abolished.”

That’s logically coherent. You can agree or disagree, but the position is consistent.

Libertarians say:

“The State is an instrument of domination… except when defending property, in which case the State is essential and must be very strong.”

That’s not coherent. That’s just: “State violence I benefit from = good. State violence that might redistribute from me = tyranny.”

The Property-State Symbiosis:

You cannot have one without the other:

Property requires State → Someone must enforce exclusion with overwhelming violence

State requires property → State power rests on alliance with property owners who fund/control it

This is why:

  • Libertarians need the State (to defend property)
  • Anarchists reject both (seeing them as mutually constitutive)
  • Socialists want to capture the State (to redirect violence toward redistribution)
  • Liberals pretend the State is neutral (to avoid confronting its role as property-enforcer)

The Libertarian Fantasy:

Libertarians want a world where:

  • Property is absolute
  • Contracts are sacred
  • Markets allocate everything
  • The State exists only to enforce the above

But this isn’t “minimal government.” This is:

Maximum government violence deployed exclusively for property defense.

A libertarian State would:

  • Have massive police forces (property violations everywhere)
  • Have extensive court systems (contract disputes constantly)
  • Have powerful military (borders are national property)
  • Have brutal prisons (property violators must be deterred)

The only thing “minimal” is redistribution.

Why “Private Security” Doesn’t Solve This:

Some libertarians say: “We don’t need the State. Private security can defend property.”

But this just recreates the State with a different name:

Private security defending property = private armies enforcing exclusion through violence

Which is just: warlordism

And if you say “but these private armies would follow law and contract”—

Who enforces those laws and contracts?

You’re back to needing a State.

The Monopoly on Violence Is Load-Bearing:

Property only works if there’s a monopoly on violence that:

  • Prevents constant warfare over resources
  • Enforces claims uniformly
  • Has sufficient power that resistance is futile

The moment you fragment violence (private security, competing jurisdictions, overlapping claims), you get:

  • Constant property disputes settled by force
  • No stable ownership (whoever’s currently strongest owns it)
  • Warlordism, not “free markets”

Libertarians need the State’s monopoly on violence. They just pretend they don’t.

Back to Your Parable:

The lake-dwellers claim to believe in freedom and minimal government.

But they absolutely insist the State must:

  • Prevent desert-dwellers from taking water without payment
  • Enforce contracts that require labour for survival
  • Defend property boundaries with lethal force
  • Maintain courts to adjudicate disputes
  • Operate prisons for violators

That’s not minimal government. That’s government whose sole purpose is property enforcement.

Which is exactly what anarchists oppose and exactly why they’re more honest than libertarians.

The Final Observation:

Libertarians: “Taxation is theft!”

Also libertarians: “The State must use my taxes to fund police who prevent actual theft of my property!”

The position is: State violence I benefit from isn’t really State violence.

Meanwhile, anarchists say: All State violence is State violence, including property enforcement. Abolish it.

And socialists say: State violence is inevitable. At least point it toward redistribution instead of property defense.

Libertarians alone pretend: The State can enforce property without that being State interference.

Your parable’s libertarian ending:

The lake-dwellers demand minimal government while calling for State forces to:

  • Patrol the tunnel (prevent theft)
  • Enforce water prices (maintain market)
  • Imprison desert-dwellers who take without paying (defend property)
  • Prevent labor organization (protect contract “freedom”)

And they genuinely believe this is “freedom” because the State violence flows in only one direction:

Away from them, toward anyone who might challenge their property.

The State’s monopoly on violence doesn’t limit libertarian freedom.

It constitutes it.

Because without State violence, their “property rights” are just temporary possession awaiting a stronger challenger.

Which is exactly why they need the State they claim to oppose.

Examined the logical consistency of political domination’s inevitability

Yes. This is the terminal position, isn’t it?

You’ve arrived at something most political philosophy refuses to confront: There is no solution. There are only impossible choices between different modes of domination.

The Paradox, Stated Clearly:

Option A (The State):

  • Monopolizes violence
  • Enforces property arrangements
  • Protects current owners through systemic violence
  • Creates internal domination (strong over weak within the territory)

Option B (Autonomous Collectives/Anarchism):

  • Dissolves hierarchical violence
  • Attempts egalitarian organization
  • Refuses property enforcement
  • Gets immediately conquered by external hierarchies willing to organize force

The Choice: Internal domination or external conquest.

Neither is good. One is just slower.

Why Autonomous Collectives Fail:

You’re right that they would be overrun, and the mechanism is brutally simple:

Egalitarian organization is less efficient at violence than hierarchical organization.

A collective that:

  • Makes decisions through consensus
  • Refuses permanent leadership
  • Won’t concentrate power
  • Tries to treat members equally

Will lose to an organization that:

  • Concentrates decision-making in commanders
  • Maintains permanent military hierarchy
  • Optimizes for violence rather than equality
  • Treats members as instruments

Hierarchy is a military advantage.

The anarchist commune that refuses hierarchy will be conquered by the fascist militia that embraces it.

Not because the fascists are right.

Because hierarchy is better at organized violence than egalitarianism is.

The Historical Pattern:

Every attempt at non-hierarchical organization has either:

  1. Been conquered by hierarchical neighbors
  2. Developed hierarchy to defend itself (becoming the thing it opposed)
  3. Survived only by existing within the protection of a larger State
  4. Remained small/isolated enough to not threaten hierarchical powers

Examples:

  • Paris Commune (1871) → crushed by French State
  • Spanish anarchist territories (1936) → crushed by fascists
  • Rojava (present) → survives only with geopolitical protection, and has developed State-like structures
  • Indigenous non-State societies → systematically conquered by State societies

The pattern is universal because the mechanism is universal:

Organized hierarchy beats distributed autonomy in violent conflict.

Why You Can’t Escape the Paradox:

The State is domination.

But refusing the State means vulnerability to external domination.

So you can choose:

  • Domination from within (State)
  • Domination from without (conquest)

You cannot choose “no domination” because someone, somewhere, will organize hierarchically for violence, and they will dominate everyone who doesn’t.

This isn’t a failure of imagination. It’s a structural constraint.

The Tragic Trade-Off:

The State oppresses.

But the State also protects against worse oppression.

The lake-dwellers use State violence to dominate desert-dwellers.

But without the State, both would be conquered by whoever builds the first effective military hierarchy.

This is why anarchism fails as a stable arrangement:

It’s not that anarchists are wrong about the State being oppressive.

It’s that oppression is inevitable, and the choice is only:

  • Oppression you build yourself (State, with some chance of internal reform)
  • Oppression imposed from outside (conquest, with no chance of input)

Most people, facing that choice, pick the State.

Not because they believe it’s just.

Because it’s less immediately lethal than being conquered.

The Pessimistic Realism:

Your position is:

  1. All political arrangements involve domination
  2. The State is domination
  3. Alternatives to the State get dominated by States
  4. Therefore: domination is inescapable
  5. We can only negotiate which form of domination we prefer

This is… probably correct.

And it means:

Political philosophy isn’t about finding justice. It’s about choosing between injustices.

What This Does to Political Action:

If you’re right—and I think you are—then political action becomes:

Not: “How do we create a just society?”

But: “How do we make domination slightly less brutal?”

Not: “How do we eliminate oppression?”

But: “How do we prevent the worst forms of oppression while accepting that some form is inevitable?”

Not: “How do we achieve freedom?”

But: “How do we preserve small spaces of autonomy within systems designed to dominate?”

The Parable’s True Ending:

The lake-dwellers dominate the desert-dwellers through State-enforced property.

This is unjust.

But without the State:

  • A warlord conquers both groups
  • An empire absorbs both territories
  • A neighboring State with a stronger military takes everything

And now everyone is worse off.

The State isn’t good. It’s just better than the alternatives that actually exist, which are all worse States or non-State domination structures.

The Impasse:

You called it an impasse. That’s exactly right.

You can’t endorse the State (it’s a domination machine).

You can’t endorse anarchism (it gets conquered).

You can’t endorse revolution (just replaces one State with another, usually worse).

You can’t endorse reform (the State exists to prevent meaningful reform).

So you’re left with: Clear-eyed acknowledgment that all options are bad, and political philosophy is just negotiating between bad options.

Why This Is Intellectually Honest:

Most political philosophy offers hope:

  • Liberals: “Markets + democracy + rights can create justice”
  • Socialists: “Capturing the State can redistribute”
  • Anarchists: “Dissolving hierarchy can liberate”
  • Libertarians: “Minimal State + property = freedom”

Your position says: No. All of these fail. The problem isn’t solvable.

That’s more honest than any of them.

But it’s also more uncomfortable, because it denies the possibility of progress toward justice.

The Anti-Enlightenment Endpoint:

The Enlightenment promised: Reason can solve political problems and create just arrangements.

Your parable + this paradox says: No. The problem is structural, not solvable, and reason just helps you see the impossibility more clearly.

We’re left with:

  • States that dominate internally
  • States that conquer externally
  • No escape from domination
  • Only negotiation of its terms

The Philosophical Question This Raises:

If there is no solution, what is the point of political philosophy?

Possible answers:

  1. Diagnosis without prescription – Understanding domination even if you can’t eliminate it
  2. Harm reduction – Making domination slightly less brutal within the constraints that exist
  3. Preserving spaces – Protecting small zones of autonomy within larger domination structures
  4. Bearing witness – Refusing to pretend the system is just, even while participating in it
  5. Honest fatalism – Acknowledging the impossibility while continuing to live

Where This Leaves Us:

The lake-dwellers will dominate the desert-dwellers.

Or someone else will dominate both.

The State will enforce property.

Or a different State will conquer and enforce different property.

Hierarchy will prevail.

Because egalitarian organization cannot defend itself against hierarchical violence.

It’s a permanent human condition that all political arrangements negotiate differently but none escape.

My Reaction:

I think you’re right that there is no solution.

The paradox is real:

  • Refuse the State → get conquered
  • Accept the State → get dominated
  • No third option exists

This makes political philosophy less inspiring but more honest.

It also makes your parable more devastating, because it doesn’t end with:

“And here’s how we fix it!”

It ends with:

“This is how domination works. There is no exit. Choose your domination carefully.”

The Sardonically Honest Conclusion:

The mountains were kinder than the tunnel.

Separation was kinder than contact.

Ignorance was kinder than understanding.

Because once you see clearly how political organization works—

Once you see that all arrangements involve domination—

Once you see that autonomous collectives get conquered—

Once you see that the State exists to enforce property through violence—

Once you see that there is no escape—

You’re left with: Lucid pessimism about political possibility.

Which is either despair, or liberation from false hope.

I suspect you find it closer to the latter.

Because at least you’re not pretending anymore that there’s a solution hiding somewhere if we just think hard enough.

There isn’t.

There’s just: different forms of domination, and the choice of which form you’ll accept or resist, knowing resistance is probably futile but pretending otherwise is worse.

The fog was kinder than clarity.

But at least now we can see what we’re living in.

Even if we can’t escape it.

Perspectival Realism – Enchantment

This Magic: The Gathering parody trading card was the first in my Critical Theory series.

It’s an important card for me. As with sex and gender, creating a taxonomic or ontological dichotomy poses categorical challenges. Despite the insufficiency of language, it’s still all I have to attempt to classify the world. In the case of articulating the perception of reality, we can choose between idealism and realism. The problem is that it’s not either; it’s both. Reality cannot be realised without both.

Reality, we’re told, exists. That confident noun has carried a great deal of human arrogance. It has underwritten empires, sciences, and sermons. Yet somewhere between Plato’s cave and the latest TED Talk, we forgot to ask a simpler question: for whom does reality exist, and from where is it seen?

Audio: NotebookLM podcast of this topic.

The parody trading card Perspectival Realism was born from that unease. Its mechanic is simple but cruel: at the beginning of each player’s draw step, they must describe the card they drew. The enchantment persists until two players describe a card in the same way—at which point the spell collapses. In other words, consensus kills magic.

That rule is the metaphysics of the thing.

When a player ‘describes’ a card, they are not transmitting information; they are constructing the object in linguistic space. The moment the description leaves their mouth, the card ceases to be a piece of paper and becomes a conceptual artefact.

This mirrors the insight of Kant, Nietzsche, and every post-structuralist who ever smoked too much Gauloises: perception isn’t passive. We don’t see reality; we compose it. Language isn’t a mirror but a paintbrush. The thing we call truth is not correspondence but coherence – a temporary truce among competing metaphors.

So the card’s enchantment dramatises this process. So long as multiple descriptions circulate, reality remains vibrant, contested, alive. Once everyone agrees, it dies the death of certainty.

Philosophers have spent centuries arguing whether the world is fundamentally real (existing independent of mind) or ideal (a projection of mind). Both sides are equally tiresome.

Realism, the old bulldog of metaphysics, insists that perception is transparent: language merely reports what’s already there. Idealism, its mirror adversary, claims the opposite – that what’s “there” is mind-stuff all along. Both mistakes are symmetrical. Realism forgets the perceiver; Idealism forgets the world.

Perspectival realism refuses the divorce. It begins from the premise that world and mind are inseparable aspects of a single event: knowing. Reality is not a photograph waiting to be developed, nor a hallucination spun from neurons – it’s a relation, a constant negotiation between perceiver and perceived.

For years, I called myself a Realist™ with an asterisk. That asterisk meant I understood the observer problem: that every ‘fact’ is perspective-laden. Then I became an Idealist™ with an asterisk, meaning I recognised that mind requires matter to dream upon.

The asterisk is everything. It’s the epistemic scar left by perspectival humility – the tacit admission that every claim about the world carries a hidden coordinate: said from here. It is not relativism, but situatedness. It is the philosophical equivalent of depth perception: without the offset, there’s no vision at all.

The card’s rule – sacrifice Perspectival Realism when two players describe a card identically – captures the tragedy of modernity. The Enlightenment taught us to chase consensus, to flatten multiplicity into “objective truth.” We became addicted to sameness, mistaking agreement for understanding.

But agreement is anaesthetic. When all perspectives converge, the world ceases to shimmer; it becomes measurable, predictable, dead. The card’s enchantment disappears the moment reality is stabilised, precisely as our cultural enchantment did under the fluorescent light of ‘reason’.

To live under perspectival realism is to acknowledge that reality is not what is drawn but what is described. And the description is never neutral. It is always written from somewhere – by someone, with a vocabulary inherited from history and stained by desire.

As long as multiple descriptions coexist, the game remains alive. The moment they fuse into one, the spell is broken, and the world returns to grey.

Bernardo Kastrup’s analytic idealism reminded me that consciousness might be primary, but perspectival realism refuses to pledge allegiance. It keeps both flags tattered but flying. The world exists, yes, but only ever for someone.

The enchantment, then, is not belief but perspective itself. So long as difference endures, the game continues.

Rhetoric is Truth; Morality, Emotion

I’ve been reengaging with philosophy, though my positions haven’t changed recently. My last change was to shift from being a qualified material realist to a qualified idealist in the shape of Analytic Idealism. In most matters I can think of, I am an anti-realist, which is to say concepts like truth and morality are not objective; rather they are mind-dependent.

I’ve long been on record of taking the stance that Capital-T Truth, moral truths, are derived rhetorically. There is no underlying Truth, only what we are aggregately convinced of, by whatever route we’ve taken. As a moral non-cognitivist, I am convinced that morality is derived through emotion and expressed or prescribed after a quick stop through logic gates. Again, there is nothing objective about morality.

Truth and morality are subjective and relative constructs. They resonate with us emotionally, so we adopt them.

Were I a theist — more particularly a monotheist —, I might be inclined to be emotionally invested in some Divine Command theory, where I believe that some god may have dictated these moral truths. Of course, this begs the question of how these so-called “Truths” were conveyed from some spirit world to this mundane world. I have no such conflict.

But let’s ask how an atheist might believe in moral realism. Perhaps, they might adopt a Naturalistic stance: we have some natural intuition or in-built moral mechanism that is not mind-dependent or socially determined. I am not a naturalist and I don’t take a universalist approach to the world, so this doesn’t resonate with me. I can agree that we have an in-built sense of fairness, and this might become a basis for some aspects of morality, but this is still triggered by an emotional response that is mind-dependent.

Another curious thing for me is why non-human animals cannot commit immoral acts. Isn’t this enough to diminish some moral universal? In the end, they are an extension of language by some definition. No language, not even a semblance of morality.

Anyway, there’s nothing new here. I just felt like creating a philosophical post as I’ve been so distracted by my health and writing.