So in political science broadly and especially foreign policy, the default is to assume that states themselves exist in an otherwise anarchic environment with no supernatural rules. Only responses to their own behavior, to the extent that another state can actually impose that on them, exist to potentially ‘govern’ them.
States are literally an abstraction, the fundamental reality is anarchy.
States also tend to not play nice with each other, nor with their own subjects.
Although it might seem contradictory, something can be abstract and concrete at the same time. These are relative qualities.
Relative to anarchy, the state is abstract. It depends upon a socially shared model of thinking that gets acted out by individuals. Take away this layer of abstraction and you are left with anarchy, i.e. the precursor of the state.
Prison is itself an abstraction, though its consequences feel very concrete to a prisoner. All of your thoughts and feelings are abstractions, and yet they seem concrete to you.
States aren’t an abstraction, any more than the earth’s gravity and atmospheric pressure are an abstraction. Both exist and are very stable, despite nominally existing in what’s otherwise empty space, if you ignore the whole world.
They are abstractions in the sense that they are collections of rules that people made up.
They are real in the sense that those rules are reliably and effectively enacted and carried out.
You can say just the same for a single person with a moral code, or a group of people, some kind of organization with its own rules, codified or implicit.
A person can decide to shoot you or stab you, or give you a donut or sing a song in praise of you, depending on their rules… just in the same way as a group, or a state.
The difference is just scale, and the number of layers it takes to get from something you can drop from above the ground and reliably know it will fall, and things that have massive effects via much more complex processes.
The state ‘exists’ to roughly the same extent that ‘I’ exist.
I might change my rules, my behavior, so might a state.
A person’s personality, the way a state functions and acts… both are emergent patterns or concepts or ideas that ultimately derive from something physically real, yet themselves are not directly, tangibly ‘real’…
They’re also not static, the way gravity is a static rule of reality. Their ‘nature’, their own internal rules are mutable. The speed of light, ohm’s law, set theory… things that we discover, not invent… those are static, universal rules, spatially and temporally invariant.
Emergent patterns of course also often have particular ways that they tend to behave, rules that they tend to follow… but the more abstract, the more indirectly ‘real’ the thing is, the more complex and nuanced those rules tend to be.
Odd things begin to happen when you treat certain emergent patterns, certain rules, as more primarily, fundamentally ‘real’ than they actually are.
So in political science broadly and especially foreign policy, the default is to assume that states themselves exist in an otherwise anarchic environment with no supernatural rules. Only responses to their own behavior, to the extent that another state can actually impose that on them, exist to potentially ‘govern’ them.
States are literally an abstraction, the fundamental reality is anarchy.
States also tend to not play nice with each other, nor with their own subjects.
So an abstraction that puts you in its prisons when you break their rules doesn’t seem very abstract to me.
You’ve missed the point.
I can put you in a dungeon if you break my rules.
… when a person acts this way, they tend to be viewed as a serial killer or perhaps vigilante or terrorist.
What’s the difference?
Scale of power? Perception of legitimacy or moral justness?
Although it might seem contradictory, something can be abstract and concrete at the same time. These are relative qualities.
Relative to anarchy, the state is abstract. It depends upon a socially shared model of thinking that gets acted out by individuals. Take away this layer of abstraction and you are left with anarchy, i.e. the precursor of the state.
Prison is itself an abstraction, though its consequences feel very concrete to a prisoner. All of your thoughts and feelings are abstractions, and yet they seem concrete to you.
States aren’t an abstraction, any more than the earth’s gravity and atmospheric pressure are an abstraction. Both exist and are very stable, despite nominally existing in what’s otherwise empty space, if you ignore the whole world.
They are abstractions in the sense that they are collections of rules that people made up.
They are real in the sense that those rules are reliably and effectively enacted and carried out.
You can say just the same for a single person with a moral code, or a group of people, some kind of organization with its own rules, codified or implicit.
A person can decide to shoot you or stab you, or give you a donut or sing a song in praise of you, depending on their rules… just in the same way as a group, or a state.
The difference is just scale, and the number of layers it takes to get from something you can drop from above the ground and reliably know it will fall, and things that have massive effects via much more complex processes.
The state ‘exists’ to roughly the same extent that ‘I’ exist.
I might change my rules, my behavior, so might a state.
A person’s personality, the way a state functions and acts… both are emergent patterns or concepts or ideas that ultimately derive from something physically real, yet themselves are not directly, tangibly ‘real’…
They’re also not static, the way gravity is a static rule of reality. Their ‘nature’, their own internal rules are mutable. The speed of light, ohm’s law, set theory… things that we discover, not invent… those are static, universal rules, spatially and temporally invariant.
Emergent patterns of course also often have particular ways that they tend to behave, rules that they tend to follow… but the more abstract, the more indirectly ‘real’ the thing is, the more complex and nuanced those rules tend to be.
Odd things begin to happen when you treat certain emergent patterns, certain rules, as more primarily, fundamentally ‘real’ than they actually are.