Want a simple answer? Eliminate the need, I say, and you’ll have gone a long way towards licking the problem by rendering the corrupt system null and void. It can’t function without your active or passive participation.
An anarchistic community, contrary to what may be a common misconception, doesn’t consist of weaklings but of well-formed, self-reliant individuals. Of course, no community can be self-reliant if its members are not; the two go hand in hand. Individuals are transformed, not reformed, in the context of communal living (it takes a village to raise a child!), but so is the community itself when inspired by some of its members. It’s a two-way process, somewhat akin to trying to pull yourself up by your own bootstraps; no easy undertaking by any means. The object is to reach the critical mass reflecting the right kind of mindset.
Perhaps I’m being unduly influenced here by Western philosophical tradition and peculiarly Western moral concepts, perhaps not. I disagree, however, with William E. Connolly who, after Nietzsche, is willing to replace an ethic of command with one of cultivation. Nothing wrong with the latter, but Connolly is too quick to reduce the gist of Greek moral teachings to Kant’s categorical imperative. I’d rather speak here of an ethic of virtue, already a dilution of sorts of the Greek term arête, pursuit of excellence. And virtue is a transcultural quality, methinks.
Hence another descriptor for a would-be anarchistic, self-regulated community: it’s a virtuous community as well.
I suppose I must respect the executive decision against ever revisiting the subject matter of the recent expulsion of a small number of writers from our Blogcritics midst, let alone discussing it at any length. In any case, my hands are tied, which makes me doubly grateful to the management for allowing me to make even this undefined, albeit topical, allusion to these personae non gratae vis-à-vis our tranquil little community while wrapping up my modest series of essays.
But seriously, folks, censorship has no place in the kind of community I envisage. One should hope that someday we shall muster the necessary courage and live up to our trade name, our nom de plume. In the meantime, I find it ironic that while we pride ourselves for being critical of virtually every subject under the sun, noticeable by its absence is self-criticism. How can we hope to change the world if we can’t change ourselves?