This week's post is up, but it is at the new URL and host for the Mad Philosopher blog.  You can reach the post here.

The new URL, where the blog will continue (there will be no new material on this site) is www.MadPhilosopher.xyz.

All of the main posts have been moved to the new site, but all of the old "daily resource suggestions" will remain here for your reference.

Carpe Veritas,
​Mad Philosopher

 This last moth of posts seems to be “boring analytic philosophy month”. Defining property and rights, dealing in definitions and ontology, and now mereology. Before getting hung-up on what is undoubtedly a new vocabulary word, let me give you this week's question: “What is the relationship between an individual and a community?”

Mereology is a study as old as recorded philosophy that, while involved in every philosophical discipline, is seldom addressed directly. Modern understandings of the field are heavily informed by medieval mathematics, but it's a broader field than just parts of set theory. Many philosophy majors I know personally had never heard the name or question of mereology in either their studies of personal engagements until I had brought it up. This is likely because the question of mereology is often either ignored or merely answered in specific cases by other disciplines within philosophy. If the question of ontology is “what exists and in what manner?” then, mereology would ask, “What is the relationship of parts and wholes?”

I may be prone to subjecting my audience to raw, obscure philosophical questions, but even I am loathe to write in-depth concerning mereology... at least for a blog post. I think we can make do with just the question of this post and the paradigm established in previous posts. I trust that you can keep up and, if not, that you will email me or comment below and let me know.

As I have argued in the last two posts, collectives do not exist. If collectives don't exist, how can I begin speaking on the relationship between the individual and his community? I did leave the door open for communities to exist, within a narrow definition. As a matter of fact, I left the door open for three types of community to exist. Before getting into a taxonomy, though, I need to define what I mean by “community” and how it is distinct, ontologically, from “collective”. For now, I believe a sufficient definition of “community” is “a series of interpersonal relationships-” or, rather, “a series of individuals who hold a series of interpersonal relationships centered on one or more commonality.”

One will notice, if reading with an eye trained by my previous ontological discussions, that this would make a “community” an abstraction akin to a collective: something which exists only as an idea or a concept with no impetus of its own and serves only to inform one in a manner consistent with one's epistemic limitations. In exploring the taxonomy of communities, I hope to explore the specifics of the role such an abstraction plays and why I would grant it a stronger ontology than a mere collective.

The commonalities on which a community may be centered can range from something so banal as a common geographic location, common interest, common heritage... to something as intense and significant as a common life-altering event, vocational encounter, or a common goal, method, and discipline. These commonalities seem to be divisible into three types of character. By virtue of their definition, communities grounded in these commonalities can be said to have such character. These three types of character would be incidental, practical, and intentional. Based on the names I have chosen, I assume that many preconceptions and questions have already formed in your mind. I'll try to assuage such activities, now.

Let's just start with descriptions. An incidental community is just that: a series of individuals who hold relationships of coincidence. The easiest example is one of locality, especially in the postmodern age. Even if they are incredibly transient and flimsy, I have a number of relationships with people who live in my apartment complex. The sole basis of these relationships is proximity (and the friction it entails):competing for decent parking, upholding lease policies, random polite (and not-so-polite) encounters, etc. This same sort of coincidence exists on the freeway/highway, at the grocery store or bank, and perhaps even people that share similar attributes to myself, such as gender, skin color, geography of birth, height, or other inheritances.

I think that the most immediate observation one can make concerning incidental relationships, especially when looking with an ethical eye, is the total lack of homogeneity between individuals in the community. A brief survey of the bumper stickers seen at the common geographic locations, the Denver facebook network, a survey of white people, etc. will quickly indicate only a few minor statistical trends, all of which are better explained by external factors as opposed to the nature of the community itself (again,it's an abstracted tool). Due to this phenomenon, one cannot speak knowledgeably about specific individuals within an incidental community, even when armed with statistics, nor can one speak of them categorically. Not everyone at my apartment complex is poor, not all blacks are criminals, not all whites like Phish, not all Denverites smoke pot, and not everyone in Nagasaki are militaristic imperialists who deserve to be irradiated or vaporized.

That description sounds like one that could be called “practical”, I must admit. If any readers have a suggestion for a better nomenclature to differentiate between incidental communities and those which I am about to describe, please let me know.

A community of practical character could be considered “a series of individuals who hold relationships entered into or maintained due to practical considerations”. This involves business relationships, to be sure; doctors and patients, contractors and property owners, student's/families and school teachers/administrators are good examples, too. These considerations could also be centered on internet forums, conventions centered on a particular interest, or any club of one sort or another.

These commonalities are also quite transient. One anime convention is more-or-less interchangeable with another, one school is interchangeable with another (or any number of alternatives), employees and employers as well as clubs or stores (like Costco or Sam's Club) are equally so. Because an incidental relationship or community is merely a matter of coincidence, relationships or communities which are matters of active choice (aka. practical considerations) are marginally more tangible and representative of the individuals involved. One can speak semi-intelligently about metalheads, people who hang out at Hot Topic, or engineers. A lot of (frankly, true) stereotypes are a result of statistical trends in these self-selecting communities.

A sort of “practical community on steroids”, intentional communities now become our focus. Intentional communities are best described as “as series of individuals who hold relationships centered on common purposiveness, intention, and approach to such.” If teachers and families are practical communities in schools, the PTA/PTOs student councils, teachers' unions, etc. are intentional communities. Hippie communes; anarchist “collectives”; charities; governments, mafia, and other gangs; even some religious sects are examples of other forms of intentional communities.

Where a practical community, say, a gun show, is centered on a common utility (such as being able to buy or sell guns, exchange information, or not be reviled as a criminal for merely voicing an interest in self-defense), it lacks a certain intention or purposiveness. For example, one wouldn’t expect everyone, or even most of the people, at a brony convention to agree that they must all work towards the creation of GMO purple ponies with unicorn horns, or the extermination of all non-bronies. The KKK or (neo-)Nazis, however, gather around a central intention of exterminating or enslaving an entire group of people (usually members of certain incidental communities), evangelical Christians wish to “Baptize all nations”, communes exist for whatever commie/naturalist lifestyle one pursues, police exist to enforce laws, the Bloods exist to kill the Crips (and vice-versa), and the government exists to govern.

I used slightly different verbs when describing these different communities. It's ok, though, because the important mereological point to remember is that a “community” is merely individuals maintaining relationships betwixt themselves., not an entity existing in its own right. However, where the incidental communities likely only provide categorical claims that are tautological (“The black community is black”), and the practical communities present only statistical correlations (“people who tend to purchase Maseratis tend to be upper-middle class”), intentional communities provide more opportunity for both generalization and categorical claims. For instance, the claim “KKK members are racist,” is effectively incontestable; someone may find an instance which appears to be a non-racist KKK member, but such a circumstance would require detailed examination.

The “non-racist”individual could either be considered a “bad KKK member” (in the socratic vein) or not really a KKK member (due to definitions), but a more likely and more easily defensible claim would be the case which claims that the very membership in the KKK is an endorsement of the KKK's intention, therefore it is impossible to be in the KKK and not be racist. Even in the case of someone “going undercover” to break up the KKK, they are acting in bad faith, which presents its own series of issues which we don't have time for today.

What I mean to express by exploring this taxonomy of communities is that the first two types lack any ontology beyond being a mere abstraction, much like the collectives I addressed a few posts ago. An intentional community, while still lacking ontology in itself, does influence reality in a tangible way, unique from the other two. This influence takes the form of social, ethical, and moral qualifiers included in interpersonal interaction. Where a series of employers and employees is typically to be considered a practical community, if the employers have a stated intent, purpose, or method and are hiring employees for the sake of which, any employee which enters into that relationship is doing so in the same manner one would enter into the KKK or a commune.

In other words, one cannot be pro-life and work for Planned Parenthood or the US Military, one cannot join a hippie commune and not be a hippie, nor can one become a cop and not endorse coercion and theft, or any other example that may come to mind. Any seemingly contradictory instance is merely a case of an individual acting out of ignorance or bad faith. Ultimately, this is the reason there is no such thing as a “good cop” or an “egalitarian neo-nazi”; in choosing to join a community centered on the purpose of enforcing laws or eliminating Jews, one demonstrates a preference for such criminal actions, even if they are unaware of that reality.

TL;DR; Merelology is the study of the relationship between parts and wholes. This field of study applies when looking at the relationship between individuals and the abstract concepts called “communities”. In the case of coincidental and unintentional relationships, one could consider such a community an “incidental community”. In the case of a relationship entered into voluntarily, often out of practical considerations, one could consider it a “practical community”. Most interesting would be the “intentional community”, which would be entered into with the intent of fulfilling a particular goal or furthering a particular cause, held by all members of that community. Such a joining of an intentional community is an endorsement of the intent and methods implemented by other individuals within the community, insofar as they align with the community's intent. Awareness of this taxonomy is important when one makes statistical or categorical observations concerning various communities.

 Socialism, like the old policy from which it emanates, confounds Government and society. And so, every time we object to a thing being done by Government, it concludes that we object to its being done at all. We disapprove of education by the State—then we are against education altogether. We object to a State religion—then we would have no religion at all. We object to an equality which is brought about by the State then we are against equality, etc., etc. They might as well accuse us of wishing men not to eat, because we object to the cultivation of corn by the State.

How is it that the strange idea of making the law produce what it does not contain—prosperity, in a positive sense, wealth, science, religion—should ever have gained ground in the political world? The modern politicians, particularly those of the Socialist school, found their different theories upon one common hypothesis; and surely a more strange, a more presumptuous notion, could never have entered a human brain. ~Bastiat

Last week, I denounced the existence of collectives in the name of anarchy. A few commenters requested clarification on this subject for a few reasons. I figured that I ought to shoulder the inevitable burden of addressing collectivism and the philosophical issues therein.

The first order of business is to clarify my specific claim which was made last post. Some people demonstrated a desire to adapt a radical and likely unpopular claim to better jive with their own worldview or better lend itself to discussions with non-anarchists. While I am certainly sympathetic to that desire (see my posts about the Pope), this issue is foundational and, therefore, requires a certain clarity and inflexibility. My claim was not ethical, claiming that one ought to do a particular thing concerning collectives. Nor was my claim a pragmatic one, saying that things would be easier if one ignored collectives in favor of individuals.

My claim is a categorical, unequivocal ontological one. My claim is that collectives do not exist. Collectives posses the same ontology as Xenu, lizard Jews, and human-caused global warming. They are a fairy-tale. As my selected examples of fairy-tales demonstrate, though, some people do insane and violent things in the name of such fairy-tales.

I'm about to get ahead of myself. Before exploring collectives and the results of believing in them, I ought to give a definition of what exactly I mean by the term. Clearly, I'm not claiming that hippie communes, political migrations, cults, or other random gatherings of people are not a thing; these phenomena are easily observed. I am raising the question of their ontological status, though. I hope to make that distinction more clear through this post. When I say “collectives do not exist”, what I am saying is “an entity which exists distinct from and beyond the functioning of its individual components is a metaphysical impossibility”, specifically in the case of agents.

At this point, I expect scientists and pseudo-scientists to reel and accuse me of ignorance. In physics, elementary particles which exhibit certain behaviors can coalesce into a larger particle which exhibits behaviors different from the elementary ones, without an account of how the elementary particles contribute to said behavior. Quarks and protons/neutrons are a widely-known example of this phenomenon. A significant portion of my personal philosophical pursuits have revolved around philosophy of science and epistemology (probably because disillusionment with astrophysics is what drove me to philosophy), but one will notice a lack of such on this blog. This is for a variety of reasons, but if enough people express interest in my 95 Theses, that may change.

Anyway, one such reason is because scientists and science fans are trained to be openly hostile towards philosophy of science. Your reaction to this paragraph may demonstrate this. Protons and quarks are mere instruments. They are concepts which serve a function; specifically, they express regularities in mathematically mediated observations. Because this is the case, it is unnecessary to explain how quarks contribute to the behavior of protons... it may even be impossible to do so within our current paradigm. Another way of saying this would be that quarks are not “real” in the platonic sense; they are a predictor for phenomena in a similar (but more accurate) manner as Aristotle's teloi or the medieval nature spirits.

Similarly, a biologist will discuss species or evolution in an anthropomorphized or teleological manner, “racists” will discuss statistical trends across demographics in a collectivized way, and sociologists or politicians will speak of “humanity” and “society” as if it were a tangible entity. There are nuanced distinctions between these examples and the physics example as well as distinctions betwixt each other. The primary distinction is the specific relationship between the individual and the whole. Where quarks are a tool to describe regularities when looking smaller than the atom, species, races, societies, etc. are tools to describe regularities when looking at unmanageably large numbers of individual instances.

In both paradigms, one must be very aware of one's ontology. A long-standing basic principle in establishing ontology is simplicity; something akin to Occam's Razor. If one can effectively describe, explain, and predict the nature of, say, a falling object using a tool such as gravity, one need not and ought not look for a coincidental explanation such as telos or “gravity spirits”. In the case of collective identifiers such as “species” or “society”, every significant behavior is explained by the behaviors of individual actors “within” the collective.

In other words, “society” or “species” are useful instruments for biologists or economists, but are ontologically superfluous. If, someday, one can determine what “real” object correlates to quarks, quarks would also become ontologically superfluous. This claim renders two significant outcomes.

The first is one of historical and scientific significance: in the same manner that believers in river spirits or flat earth theory are (appropriately) ridiculed, if science is allowed to continue progression, believers in “society” may be faced with similar reactions. Where virgin and child sacrifices used to be offered to spirits, modern-day sacrifices of comparable magnitude are offered to “society”. Such behaviors need to stop.

The second is one of philosophical and practical significance. Obviously, such a claim secures the case I made last week. That aside, one must critically assess one's belief and rhetoric concerning “society”. For example, a materialist/scientism-ist/pragmatist is faced with a significant challenge. When faced with a choice between identifying the behaviors of material bodies behaving in deterministic ways and the emergent properties of those behaviors or believing in a metaphysical (immaterial) entity which interacts with those material bodies, determining behaviors outside the laws of physics, most often these materialists will opt for the metaphysical option. This is intellectually inconsistent and eminently damaging to the case for materialism.

Materialism aside, people at large seem to consistently believe that “society” possesses attributes contrary to the attributes of its constituent elements. I often argue against such a claim when it emerges in the context of voting and law enforcement. For example, if individuals lack the right to dictate the actions of others (forcing gays to act straight, forcing nuns to buy other people contraceptives, shooting people for driving the wrong car), how can they delegate that right (which doesn't exist) to a representative, enforcer, or “society”?

The rhetoric concerning “society” oscillates between using “society” as a tool to accomplish personal goals (this is at the heart of electoral debates) and treating “society” as a force of nature to be mitigated and resisted (when one is on the receiving-end of “society” used as a tool). One must look no further than the “anti-war” movements on the right and left only being “anti-war” when the opposing team is in charge of the war.

This accusation goes beyond “society” and applies categorically. “Race” is a useful instrument for identifying genetic similarities amongst individuals and statistically analyzing unmanageably large populations. However, “race” possesses the same ontology as “species” or “society”; it exists as an epistemic tool, nothing more. Even when dealing with teams, gangs, or communities, (that is, associations of choice) one is merely dealing with individuals who may have common goals or proclivities. Such a community lacks ontology distinct from its constituent elements. If there are no individuals called “crips” there is not gang called “the crips”; if there are no police, there is no gang called “the police”. Additionally, with the possible exception of the Borg (TNG only, Voyager kinda' goofed it) one cannot interact with the collective, only constituent elements of the collective. I will renounce my strong position on the non-existence of collectives if someone will allow me to speak to and shake hand with “society”.

This position, despite what you may think, does not disallow the existence of “communities”. With a very minor degree of re-definition, community can remain. If, by “community”, one means “a collection of strong and interconnected interpersonal relationships”, communities exist everywhere. One needs only be cautious to not assign metaphysical or moral properties it communities which are not appropriate.

My more religious friends may appeal to panentheism or the Body of Christ/Communion of Saints as a counter-argument. This argument doesn't actually reject either concept; instead, it opens the door for a discussion concerning the nature of such metaphysical concepts and their relationship to the material world. To begin this discussion, I will suggest that such concepts operate primarily as eschatological phenomena and secondarily as an ethical heuristic.

One final note, as I am out of time: this is why such issues are self-defense, the tragedy of enforcement, and the state of war are so morally involved on this blog. Even though the police are such by virtue of a voluntary association centered on the pursuit of criminal activity, I do not believe asymmetric warfare against police as a whole is morally justified, but defending oneself from instances of extortion, kidnapping, coercion, and murder with lethal force is morally justified and ethically encouraged.
​

TL;DR: Last post, I was not claiming that one should merely behave as if collectives do not exist, but instead making the strong claim that the do not exist at all. Belief in collectives is ontologically and epistemically lazy and such laziness prevents the epistemic rectitude required for ethical action. Increased intellectual rigor with regards to “society” is required if one wishes to improve one's quality of life or the quality of life of others.

 It should be no surprise that the issue of property should become so central on an anarchist philosopher's blog; nearly every opposing argument to anarchy I have encountered hinges on property rights or one's fear that their property should become insecure.

It also should be no surprise that intellectual property should come up so quickly; copyright law has been a cultural mainstay sine the Church and publishing companies had decided to try and control society's intellectual pursuits several centuries ago. IP is a subject almost as involved and arguably more convoluted than property at large, so I'm going to focus on one specific point concerning IP today and add to it more later on. I would have to, as property rights and IP intersect frequently with issues such as innovation and privacy. Some more definitions, some metaphysics, and one not-so-world-shaking claim are all I can manage this week.

What is intellectual property? Despite being a centuries-old cultural mainstay, IP law is very nebulous and unhelpful to rational inquiry. Only slightly more useful is the cultural and academic narrative concerning “stealing ideas” and channels by which one gives credit, which are somewhat informed by IP laws. Instead of teasing ideas out of these frustratingly ad-hoc narratives, we should look at the term and the high-altitude basics with fresh eyes.

So, “intellectual”. I tend to avoid metaphysics on my blog, instead reserving such exercises for in-person discussions and my still-unpublished book. I am essentially a substance pluralist, which means I am not beholden to the materialist doctrine. Today, I am going to be using terms such as “ideas”, “mental/intellectual substance”, “mind” and the like. While these terms sound like some sort of Cartesian dualism (to which I do not ascribe), I am aware that, in some form or another, there are materialist parallels to each of these concepts. For the sake of our discussion, we will have to assume that people possess minds and that the discussion of intellectual matters are concerned primarily with the operation of minds. I don't think this is too far a stretch for my readers.

Ideas are immaterial. Where apples or rocks exist independent from observers and act on their own (producing gravity, growing, decaying, interacting with their environment), ideas are contingent upon minds (or, rather a medium which can contain the idea, such as a mind). If there is an idea in my mind, it exists solely within my mind. Even as I write these words, the idea I am attempting to express resides solely within my mind. It is possible, though infinitely unlikely, that someone, at some point in time, may have an idea that is identical to the one I am expressing now, but it would not be the same idea, nor would we ever have a method by which to determine that it is identical.

This is due to the phenomenological barrier between our rational minds and the world around them. I am currently experiencing having an idea and attempting to express that idea in precise linguistic terms. I am expressing it in this way, hoping that by reading these words you, the reader, will be able to use this expression to construct a similar enough idea such that we will have a common language for expression of ideas. You can never see or experience the idea in my head, but you can attempt to construct a facsimile idea that is close enough.

In short, I cannot “give” or “take” and idea from you, I can only strive to provide you with the necessary components of an idea I wish to share. If I, for whatever reason, wish to prevent you from constructing a particular idea, I can attempt to avoid expressing hints at that idea. This is the basis of a secret. If I have an idea in my mind and wish no-one else to be aware of it, I can refrain from expressing it and even engage in behaviors that may prevent others from becoming aware of such an idea. For instance, Bruce Wayne can pretend to be a playboy billionaire too busy hanging out with loose women to be beating criminals in the dead of night, thus keeping his secret of being Batman.

Bruce Wayne is an excellent example, as he effectively demonstrates the nature of secrets. For example, the common inhabitants of Gotham have no idea that Bruce Wayne is Batman, primarily because they are ignorant of the requisite evidence to form such an idea. However, every iteration of Bruce Wayne is eventually exposed as Batman to someone else (Alfred, Dick Clark, Catwoman, Bane, etc.). The moment that a copy of the idea that Bruce Wayne is Batman is created, the secret is out. Such a secret inevitably spreads at a geometric rate, sparking the creation of duplicate ideas in fresh minds from the initial host, spreading like a virus and taking on a new form with each duplication.

If Alfred discovers Bruce Wayne is Batman, can Bruce justifiably kill or coerce Alfred in order to prevent such a spread of information? One may make a convoluted case that Alfred, by knowing something that could put Bruce in danger, is aggressing against him... but I don't have time to waste on such absurdities. All Alfred has done is construct an idea which serves to inform his understanding of the world. The material equivalent would be Bruce creating a tool, say an ax, in order to make woodcutting easier, and Alfred, seeing the utility of such a tool, fashions an ax himself to cut his own wood. It is possible that Alfred's ax may put Bruce at risk,(Alfred may snap, and murder Bruce in his sleep or a criminal may acquire the ax and use it in the same manner), but the mere fact that Alfred possesses a tool does not threaten Bruce. The same applies to Catwoman, Talia and Ra's AL Ghul, Bane, etc; regardless of who knows the alleged secret, the only thing that matters (morally speaking) is what they do with that knowledge.

Now that we've taken most of our time exploring the term “intellectual”, let's briefly turn our attention to “property”. My last two posts (here and here) explored the basics of property already. We don't have to go much further than we already have. I got the least amount of feedback to-date concerning these posts, so I have had very little opportunity to change my mind.

Two key requirements I have laid out for something to be considered property are thus: the alleged “property must be a discrete and identifiable object, and it must be transmissible. Given what we have already covered concerning intellectual matters, it becomes readily apparent that an idea is not really discrete and identifiable. Whether it be an immaterial entity within one's mind, a specific arrangement of cells and chemicals in a brain, or a series of magnetic charges on a metal plate, an idea is difficult (to the degree of being an impossibility) to identify as a discrete object. Additionally, an idea, in any of the forms I have just listed, cannot really be moved from one medium to another; they are actually merely duplicated with varying degrees of fidelity. Because “intellectual” things cannot meet the necessary conditions for property, “intellectual property” is an oxymoron.

“But what about books? You can own, trade, identify, and move books.” Books are obviously property; they meet each of the necessary and sufficient conditions we have already covered. However, there is a delineation between the material book itself and whatever ideas the book “contains”. The paper, ink, glue, etc. are discrete and identifiable, but the ideas that can be constructed by way of the material object only exist insofar as the mind is able to assemble ideas from its interaction with the material object. When one buys a book, one isn't buying ideas. One, ostensibly, purchases a book with the intent of receiving fresh inspiration for one's mind, but all they purchase is ink-stained paper.

“What about ebooks or software?” Legal fictions aside, we can look at identifiable, concrete actions and determine what is taking place. When one creates an ebook or piece of software, they are devising a particular series of on/off signals which are comparable to the phonetic and tonal sounds one makes when one performs a speech or holds a conversation. One can duplicate that series of signals with comparative ease, courtesy of modern computers. However, in order to create a duplicate, one must first have access to an existing instance of that arrangement of signals.

Ultimately, the (ostensibly) easiest method of gaining access to that series of signals is to pay the creator or host for such access. Things like DRM are typically implemented with the intent of making alternative methods of access cost-prohibitive. In the case of software, limiting functionality to people and charging for a password to increase functionality is still a common practice today, even if it is somewhat hidden behind the user interface. A material comparison would be a factory producing fully functional and free cars with locked doors. The easiest way (in this case) to gain access to the car and drive it away would be to pay the factory owner for the key to unlock the door.

Based on these behaviors, I would say that electronic media or, rather, the data stored on those media, are not property. They are certainly intellectual, which disqualifies them from being property. Instead, when one “purchases” an ebook, software, or whatever, one is paying for the service of allowing access to an extant copy in order to duplicate it, for the service of providing a password which grants access to functionality, or some comparable service. If this seems contrary to one's intuition, I suggest one investigate how exactly services like Netflix operate.

The most informative part of this discussion, though, is a matter of the metaphysical and physical impossibility of theft. When something is stolen from its owner, the owner looses access to and control over the stolen item; that is the definitive quality of theft. Ideas (and data, a subset of ideas)can be copied, modified, and even destroyed, but they cannot be stolen. If it can't be stolen, it isn't property.

TL;DR: Metaphysics and science alike will admit that the phenomena of ideas are immaterial (or, at least, have not yet found the specific material components and nature of ideas). Both will also bolster the claim that ideas are not moved about in the same manner as material objects, but are mind-specific and merely copied from medium to medium. Based on our current definition of property and these attributes of intellectual things, ideas cannot be property. Therefore, intellectual property is an oxymoron and ideas cannot be stolen. Nor, despite laws to the contrary, can one justifiably initiate aggression against anyone else over an idea they have, not even Batman