Keywords

Now we intend to overcome the ban on images (cf. Chap. 4, 1). However, this time it will not be based on an arbitrary pipedream; we claim to build a scientifically discussible, categorical utopia, developed on the basis of our theories of the individual and of society (cf. Chap. 5). From the epistemological point of view, this utopia cannot be complete given that society is complex and constantly developing. We are part of that development. Therefore, utopia can only mature in an act of societal transformation. However, we are convinced that we can attain a more profound understanding of commonism—this is the name we want to give to the free society—by way of a common reflexion. For that purpose, criticism is important; but not an abstract criticism, one that only rejects and says “no”, but a concrete criticism that is based on arguments.

The text below tries to develop the societal conditions which will allow inclusion to be the suggested course of action, at the interpersonal as well as transpersonal level. But we would like to begin by discussing the relation between freedom and inclusion in a free society. Then we will describe the qualities of commonist mediation, based on voluntariness and collective disposal, before suggesting some changes our individuality might experience in a commonist society. Finally, an FAQ (Frequently Asked Questions) closes the chapter.

We will often present dynamics in a concrete, descriptive form. However, these scenarios only serve the purpose of illustration and should not be mistaken for categorical specifications.

1 Freedom and Inclusion: The Capacity of Human Beings

We cannot define the free society in detail or “ornament” it. We cannot say how it will actually work. But we can grasp basic dynamics at a categorical level. Comprehending the free society means substantiating it. We cannot say how people will behave in commonism. Such a statement would be based on a false determinism (cf. “reasons”, p. 120). But we can ask which conditions encourage which actions and make them functional, therefore allowing us to accept the suggestion as well-based. Two questions—one based on the other—are constructive:

  1. 1.

    Under what conditions does individual development not mean infringing the individual development of other people?—The point here is: how can we exclude exploitation, suppression and domination?

  2. 2.

    Under what conditions does individual development become a precondition for the individual development of other people?—The point here is: how can the logic of inclusion establish itself as a societal principle?

However, do we really need to include other people? Is it not sufficient to simply not dominate them? The connection between freedom and inclusion we discuss in our first section (for →The concept of inclusion cf. p. 117).

1.1 Free Society and Its Inclusive Conditions

Free society is a big concept. We will try to give substance to it. Freedom at the individual level involves possibilities. These possibilities have been coined agency (cf. p. 118) by Critical Psychology. We possess agency when we are able to get to know our →needs (p. 113), unfold them and satisfy them. The more agency we have, the freer we are. As we live together with other people in a context of societal cooperation, our possibilities of satisfaction are linked to those of other people. If I, for instance, consume agro-industrial food, this might result in other people losing pristine recreational opportunities due to monoculture farming.

Commons

Commons describe “resources (code, knowledge, food, sources of energy, water, land, time etc.), which develop from self-organised processes of common, need-oriented production*, management, preservation and/or use (commoning)” (German Wikipedia: Commons, transl. M.R.). The precursors of the commons are traditional “Allmende” (historical commons), originally denoting those areas of medieval villages which were used and maintained collectively by all village inhabitants. These commons were an important part of the production* of provisions, secured by many social processes and rules. Numerous early forms of collective disposal (commoning) appeared here, mostly the disposal of material (e.g., land) and symbolic (e.g., stories) life conditions, even though they were limited by social hierarchies. Research on the commons, apart from these traditional commons (cf. p. 143), looks into modern practices of collective disposal such as music sharing, squats, free spaces, climate camps, appropriated factories, software, town, climate, oceans and so on. Crucially, no resource is a commons in itself (e.g., oceans), but resources and means become commons (cf. Helfrich 2012) through →collective disposal (p. 145) and the resulting inclusive relationships (cf. Meretz 2012). These commons are often characterised by →voluntariness (p. 144), need orientation and inclusive dynamics. We build on this research on the commons and examine how an entire society could be organised on the basis of commoning.

Human freedom is not a detached ideal; it emerges within and by virtue of society. It does not simply turn up; it is built. Human freedom is a societal freedom. As a consequence, it is always linked to the freedom of others and does not live a lonely life isolated from the freedom of others. The absence of domination is a nice idea. However, it is inadequate if the concept assumes the existence of a neutral reference between people. Societal freedom can be exclusive—in those cases where my needs are best served at the expense of others—or it can be inclusive—then my needs are better satisfied when they include the satisfaction of the needs of others. Therefore, the negative specification of the absence of domination only becomes a reality in the positive specification of general inclusion. Due to the dependence of freedom on society, the absence of domination can only be achieved by inclusion, an inclusion applicable to all. Our thesis is: I am free only if my freedom rests on the freedom of the others. General freedom is linked to general inclusion, and vice versa.

Voluntariness

Voluntariness, that is, acting according to one’s own free will, is located in the relation between necessity and possibilities. A free will presupposes the relation of possibility to the world, as developed above (Chap. 5, 1.2), because it means being able to act one way with reasons and another way with other reasons. If I have a lot of alternatives at my disposal, my space of opportunity is large. If the necessities set the tone, it is small. It would be ideal if the voluntarily realised possibilities automatically covered the necessities. In that case, motivation reaches its peak. In principle, that is possible. No one is forced to produce his/her required items on his/her own, but we deal with provisions universally and share activities in society. That makes individual life much easier, in principle, because it depends on societal organisation. If I am forced to contribute to the societal provisions because my life depends on it, my space of possibility is contaminated. If fear dictates my choice of possibility, my voluntariness is deformed or even totally reversed—and motivation hits rock bottom. Inversely: when I not coerced and I am able to choose my possibilities of my own free will, my motivation is much higher. That is only possible in a free society, which is always a society of secured existence. Voluntariness here is a characteristic of freedom and does not depend on the absolute size of the space of possibility.

Conclusion: Voluntariness comprises the unlimited unfolding of our relation of possibility to the world.

However, everyday life tells a different story: “A person’s freedom ends where another man’s freedom begins” (attributed to Immanuel Kant). Here the assumption is that possible actions limit each other, that they are mutually exclusive. And this carries some societal truth. It is the isolated capitalist concept of freedom: the freedom of others threatens my own freedom. Freedom becomes alive through actions, and the main purpose of acting is the satisfaction of needs. Thus, the needs of other people—or even other people themselves—are a danger to me, given that they limit my needs and the satisfaction of my needs. The other way round: under the condition of limited resources, my freedom only expands if the freedom of others decreases. This “freedom” is a freedom subjected to exclusion, an excluding freedom. Neoliberalism can be defined as a radicalised ideology of excluding freedom. In this context, morality and state intervention are required to stop people from “excessively” expanding their freedom and the satisfaction of their needs at the expense of others. However, a different freedom is possible: in a society where my freedom and the freedom of the others correspond in a positive way, in a society of inclusive freedom.

Collective Disposal

Disposal governs my capacity to participate in a proactive production* of life conditions (cf. Chap. 5, 2.2). A closed form of disposal, for example via property, limits my possibilities to shape the conditions of my life according to my needs. An open disposal requires collective processes of mediating different needs. Openness must be organised. In principle, all people can partake in the disposal of the various means. On the flip side, that means nobody can be generally excluded from the disposal of means. This disposal can only be inclusive if there are no longer means of domination that force people into doing things against their will. At the same time, resources, provisions and living spaces must be produced, maintained and, if necessary, improved. Therefore, disposal always involves practical activity and participation, which in a society with shared activities can only be done collectively. And this cooperation can only be exercised collectively.

Bottom line: Collective disposal is the free interpersonal and transpersonal cooperative disposal of life conditions. This is the material basis of voluntariness.

The freedom of others is no danger to me in a society where it subjectively makes sense to include their needs. If the satisfaction of the needs of others is best served by including mine, I have no reason to be afraid of their actions, their needs, their freedom and, ultimately, the people themselves. On the contrary, my options for satisfaction and my freedom increase when others expand their freedom. Only like this can freedom as inclusive freedom, or—what is the same—general freedom, comes to its own. Such an inclusive society realises the freedom of the individual by realising everyone’s freedom. It is an “association, in which the free development of each is the condition for the free development of all” (Marx and Engels 1848). It needs this societal unfolding of freedom to make our unfolded individuality the foundation of society. The individual must no longer be subordinate to society. Society fosters the development of our needs, their unfolding and fulfilment, and acknowledges us as individual, unique people. On the basis of our unfolded individuality, society comes into its own and, in doing so, allows everyone to grow.Footnote 1

Conflicts

Conflicts reflect incompatibilities between various positions; at least one position regards them as a limitation. In this book, we are mainly interested in conflicts regarding →needs (p. 113) and in the forms of settling them at the interpersonal and transpersonal level—in exclusively as well as inclusively structured societies.

The societal unfolding of freedom can be once again theoretically sharpened at the level of the individual. People possess agency when they are in command of their life conditions. As the production* of life conditions is societally mediated, we only achieve this disposal by participating in the disposal of the societal process, the proactive production*of our life conditions. This disposal reaches its peak amidst inclusive conditions, for it is free from fear. It is not unstable and precarious anymore. Others do not have “good reasons” to limit my disposal. Their disposal of the societal process is not limited by mine; on the contrary, it is enhanced. Here, inclusion is not a (moral) will-based relationship but a structural one, fostered by the societal structures. But is such an inclusive society possible? What are its foundations? What societal structures make inclusion a subjective reasoning, a subjectively sensible action, an individual rationality?

1.2 Basics of Commoning: Voluntariness and Collective Disposal

We believe we have identified two structural elements generating societal inclusive conditions. These are →voluntariness (p. 144) and →collective disposal (p. 145), which we have hinted at in the previous chapter (cf. Chap. 5, 2.2) and which will be explained in detail below. They characterise the social relationships that exist in an inclusive society. Just like separated production and →property (p. 130)—and, hence, the commodity—are the basis of the capitalist form of mediations, these elements are the basis of the commonist form of mediation, commoning and, hence, the →commons (p. 143). As we consider commodity the elementary form of the system form capitalism, so we consider the commons the elementary form of the system form commonism (cf. also Dyer-Witheford 2007). This connection is illustrated in Fig. 6.1, according to the categories developed in Chap. 5, 2.

Fig. 6.1
A schematic. Society through system, elementary form, mediation to cooperation form. Exclusion society through capitalism, commodity, market to exclusion logic. Inclusion society through commonism, commons, commoning to inclusion logic.

Capitalism (centred) and commonism (right side) in a schematic comparison according to the categories (left side)

Our specification of basic commoning is preliminary, as we are still involved in the research process, together with other people. Our train of thought in a glance: Commoning is a social relationship based on voluntariness and collective disposal, generating a logic of inclusion and leading to inclusive conditions. This should now be explained in detail.

Inclusive conditions are incompatible with a pressure to contribute to society, with the “right to exist” being glued to the “obligation to contribute”. Commonism is based on self-selection, on people choosing their own activities. We will only do what we consider important, necessary, or satisfying—in any case, that which we are motivated to do. Motivated activities are the ones that are positively evaluated from the emotional point of view after the individual assessment of the estimated positive changes, on the one hand, and the efforts and risks, on the other. Our emotions here play a decisive role. Abstract rules and forces, like money or domination, no longer dictate our activities; our needs and our emotional and cognitive perception of the world now take command. The principle of voluntariness is a highly challenging concept, for it requires a totally different form of societal organisation. In the commons context, this element is also termed “contributing instead of exchanging” (cf. Siefkes 2007; Habermann 2016). Pressing issues, such as “but then nobody will do anything” or “who will collect the rubbish”?” will be answered below.

Voluntariness is closely linked to the second element fostering inclusion: collective disposal of the means of consumption and reproduction. The material, symbolic and social means of consumption in the broadest sense must be openly available to all people. Otherwise, the danger arises that people might be excluded from the satisfaction of their needs because of missing participation. The same applies to the means of re/production. If they take the form of property, people are structurally excluded and do not have the option of disposal of the proactive production*of life conditions. However, collective disposal does not mean that everybody is entitled to everything or can demand participation in everything. Collective disposal means that no one can be excluded from available material, symbolic and social means in an abstract way, such as due to a general rule (a law or similar).

Collective disposal takes three different forms: Firstly, the re/producers of one commons collectively dispose of their means of production*: factory, wood, task organisation and so on. They choose what and how to re/produce and how to distribute the produced means. However, they are not isolated from other commons but, rather, fundamentally dependent on them. The commons are encouraged to include the needs of their cooperative partners; if they exclude all others, their partners will finally withdraw from the cooperation. This is an important incentive for inclusion: by mutually including cooperating partners, all actors along the line are eventually encouraged to make inclusive decisions. Secondly, some means will be simply distributed openly; an example of this are places resembling modern-day supermarkets but without checkout. Open distribution depends on the means, which commonist society decides to produce in sufficient quantity. This can apply to the “basics”, such as food, clothing, medicine and so on. Thirdly, certain means will be limited and distributed on a need-oriented basis. If limited means were to be distributed according to power or performance, voluntariness would be contaminated. Questions of collective disposal will certainly lead to →conflicts (p. 146) surrounding the use of these means. In this case, a mediation of these conflicts is needed, which, however, will assume a form not forfeiting basic inclusion. Understandably, the question arises on how open disposal is possible under the condition of limitation; we shall address this further on. The general issue of conflicts will be pursued after developing the inclusive society in more detail.

We are convinced that a society based on voluntariness and collective disposal generates inclusive conditions. Inclusive conditions require an absence of means of domination. Inclusion becomes subjectively functional when I cannot dominate other people or make them do things. Then I cannot simply ignore their needs, stop them or suppress them; I must include them. Certainly, there will be exclusion in an inclusive society—based on →power (p. 4) for its enforcement—even if only linked to outright physical superiority or similar. Inclusion does not pervade absolutely everything; it only does so to a degree that is decisive. However, exclusions will be much more difficult to exercise, and inclusion will provide for a much better, more solid satisfaction of needs. To test our concept, we can therefore ask: are there instruments of domination? Can people prevail at the expense of others? And, most significantly: is it subjectively functional to use these instruments of domination?

Now we want to deal with two important references of voluntariness and collective disposal: necessity and limitation. After that, we will try to develop the concept of the commonist inclusive society. We will ponder on the idea of how a society based on voluntariness and collective disposal can come into being, be preserved and mediate itself. And we will test whether it can actually create inclusive conditions.

1.2.1 Voluntariness and Necessity: Who Cares About Waste Disposal?

The statement “We do freely what is important to us” is often met with a capitalistic lack of understanding: “Impossible! Everyone will be sunbathing on the beach and the important jobs will be left undone”. When asked whether they would like to spend their life reclining on the beach—and not just enjoy a week of regeneration—the sceptics almost never agree. It is always the others causing the problem, “If it weren’t for them”. Indeed, for most people the idea of a land of milk and honey or of an “oral communism”, where everyone lounges around and consumes, is not a utopia—even if the left promises to reactivate such notions again and again—for example, with slogans such as “Let’s live the beautiful life”, accompanied by a white, palm-lined beach for illustration. However, there is a truth involved: paid labour in capitalism is predominantly characterised by burden and agony. What happens with unpleasant activities in commonism?

To begin with, nobody can be forced to do unpleasant activities. Thus, activities should be organised in such a way that they are motivating. This could mean automatising them, sharing them (e.g., disposing of waste for half a day instead of 40 hours), making them more pleasant and so on. We know that the human occupational drive oscillates “between pleasure and necessity” (Kratzwald 2014). We do not only do the pleasant things but also follow our motivation, even if there is some hassle involved. Motivation is the result of an assessment between expected positive changes and the efforts and risks involved (cf. p. 119). Being able to determine our own conditions motivates us to undergo considerable efforts, if the result promises satisfaction and happiness.

Feminists have pointed out that, particularly in the area of care, necessities have an existential character, and there is often no room for delay (Praetorius 2015). There is a high degree of motivation involved in responding to a crying child and seeing to its well-being. Are “pleasure and necessity” not intricately connected here? And does the same not apply to software development, where the tackling of a newly detected, security-related error brooks no delay because millions of people are using the software? And does fixing the software, as well as caring for the child, not involve a pleasant feeling of satisfaction when the error is eliminated and the child is content again?

At this point we want to develop a more fundamental approach to this question for, generally speaking, it is about the relation between necessity and freedom. The commons researcher Friederike Habermann criticises Marx’s claim that “the realm of freedom actually begins only where labour which is determined by necessity and outer expediency ceases” (1894, p. 828). She questions Marx’s opposing freedom and expediency: “As far as it (working) is determined by necessity, yes. But by expediency? When Marx wrote Capital was he in the realm of necessity? Or might he even have enjoyed it sometimes? If yes, does that render his works irrelevant to us?” (Habermann 2016, p. 83).

Marx speaks of external expediency, but what else could that be than the proactive production* of our life conditions? Can this not also simultaneously be the self-defined inner expediency, the self-definition of purposes, ergo our unfolding in freedom, which is the freedom of everybody? Did Marx forget his Hegel here? Did he forget that necessity and freedom take opposite shapes in capitalism, and that this, however, does not apply “in all societal formations and under all possible modes of production” (Marx, ibid.)?

The contrast Marx clearly experienced at his time can be overcome in commonism. The self-determined satisfaction of our needs through the free disposal of our life conditions does not have to be a contradiction. On the contrary, freedom becomes true in the free and creative unfolding of the necessities of life. Life itself, when at our disposal, is beautiful.

1.2.2 Openness and Limitation: Who Gets the House with a Sea View?

There will also be limitations in commonism. It will not be possible to settle all needs (at once). I cannot have everything or do whatever I want. I cannot dispose of all of my life conditions as I cannot contribute everywhere. Therefore, disposal takes the form of participation in disposal. Mere participation in disposal is no problem if others, while including my needs, dispose of the rest of life conditions. In addition, however, needs must be prioritised while producing* and disposing of them. We can certainly avoid prioritising by producing* sufficient means (enough houses with a sea view) or use these upon collective consultation; however, we cannot settle the problem completely. It is also clear that life provisions, ranging high in societal esteem, will get high priority to allow for an open disposal by all people. Also, open disposal does not mean other people demanding (co-)disposal of the toothbrush I use, my pullover or flat. In some places a commonist society will establish stable conditions of disposal and possession. However, these are not enforced by a central power, but are fundamentally changeable. The local bread-distribution commons dispose of the bread, but if this disposal turns exclusive and increasingly disregards needs, there will be opposition and, for example, a different distribution commons will be established, guaranteeing that bread producers will perform a need-oriented distribution.

Resources and possibilities are always limited. Therefore, there can and will be conflicts (cf. Chap. 6, 3.5). We are used to settling conflicts under conditions of exclusion: “How can I satisfy my needs and get my house with a sea view?” Under inclusive conditions conflicts are settled in a fundamentally different way. My needs are not simply opposed to the needs of others, but all concerned are interested in how they can best satisfy their needs collectively. How can we use the houses with a sea view in a way that is best tailored to our needs? This is the conflict problem put in an inclusive way. Openness, disposal and limitation thus turn into the collective question of tailoring and using our conditions according to our needs.

2 Production* and Use

The commonist way of producing* the societal life conditions is based on the logic of voluntariness. Voluntariness only works if the form and organisation of society cater for the needs of society in the best way. This applies to the productive as well as the sensual-vital dimension of needs (cf. p. 117). People want to dispose of the process of production* and shape it in order to minimise existential anxiety and being at the mercy of circumstances (productive dimension). On the other hand, production and preservation are supposed to be enjoyed and to satisfy needs like curiosity, entertainment, coming together and so on (sensual-vital dimension). Production* takes place in direct cooperation, given that each concrete activity is carried out individually or in interpersonal relationships (cf. Chap. 5, 2.2). We will call these forms of direct cooperation commons, in line with our analysis that the →commons (p. 143) represent the basic social form of activity (=elementary form) in commonism (=system form) (cf. Chap. 6, 1.2 and Fig. 6.1, p. 147). The concrete form a commons assumes depends on the existing conditions (resources, people, requirements etc.). This is an empirical problem and cannot be dealt with in detail.

If a commons is not capable of including the needs of the re/producers, it will sooner or later disintegrate. Here, disintegration is an important means of regulation: it releases bound resources, makes people wiser and opens up space for new developments. The need-oriented form of production* will present itself in the organisation of activities. Commons developing authoritarian or top-down organisational forms will not persist for long, for they will have limited voluntary support or none at all. Why should people engage in such a context? People can satisfy their needs better when they can dispose of the environment of their activities and design it according to their wishes. A self-created framework always suits one’s needs better than an externally imposed one. Abstract role definitions—such as “boss”—will probably end up in the list of words on the brink of extinction. Here too, voluntariness has a role to play: qualifications can be acknowledged and respected. Instead of formal status, it is specific contributions that count. To the extent that people contribute voluntarily, only the commons that actually include the needs of people will thrive in the long run.

Voluntariness also requires self-organisation. Self-organisation—determining one’s own purposes, aims and forms of cooperation—means that the contributors themselves define what they want to do and how they want to do it, how they design their commons. No plan or societal generality (cf. Chap. 6, 3.6) tells them what to do. They themselves decide what is important. And they themselves decide on the rules—concrete, flexible agreements—they want to obey. They decide on the decision process. Here, shared experiences of sound practices play an important role; but they never appear as an abstract and unquestionable framework, as is the case, for example, with general law. On the contrary, the framework is always adapted and applied according to the needs of the people organising a commons.

The guideline for production* is determined by the needs of those who act. In the case of interpersonal relationships, it is perfectly clear that specific persons benefit from the result of the activities and are motivated by the satisfaction of their needs (such is the case of care activities). But why should re/productively active people consider the needs of all others, of others in general? The self-determined definition of the purpose of production* is not detached from the needs of other people. Cooperative production* aims at participating in the societal disposal of the proactive creation of life conditions. Re/productively active people want to co-design society according to their needs. Participation, co-design and inclusion are only ensured through a performed contribution that delivers a satisfactory result. Only then is the contribution societally “realised” and, thus, acknowledged. Therefore, at the emotional level it is obvious that re/producing things nobody uses is not very rewarding. So, to include the needs of the users is subjectively functional—that is, it makes sense—but not mandatory. By including the needs of the users in production*, the productive dimension of needs of the users is indirectly involved: their needs are part of the re/production process. In this sense, the ability to satisfy the needs of others becomes a need in itself. Here, too, the idea is that people will be more eager to contribute to commons that re/produce desired means of consumption and living spaces and, thus, satisfy needs better. Others will dissolve or change. How the information about the needs of the users gets to the re/producers, we deal with in the next section on mediation.

Self-defining the aims of production and preservation entails putting an end to the separation of spheres. Separating a “reproductive-private” sphere of preservation in the household, children and care from a “productive-public” sphere of work and money does not make sense anymore. Production and preservation—in short, production* (cf. p. 10)—always take place on the basis of needs and for the satisfaction of needs. Production and reproduction coincide. What difference would there be between a commons for child-care and a commons for producing washing machines? Both satisfy important needs. This also means that the gender attribution of “female” to reproduction and “male” to production—and the subsequent gender-based division of tasks according to gender—does not make sense anymore. Excluding gender relations and other structures of exclusion will be dealt with in detail below (Chap. 6, 5.3).

The process of utilisation itself is more than a sensual-vital act, it also involves creative aspects. The produced means are not simply consumed; the satisfying quality is mainly realised in the way items are enjoyed—for example, in the savouring of a delicious meal or participating in a culture of enjoyment. The way the means are used points towards the conditions of use likely to maximise the satisfaction of needs. Just as the sensual-vital dimension of needs gains from production* due to voluntariness, we expect the productive dimension of needs to play a more important role in the process of utilisation. The separated satisfaction of the sensual-vital dimension of needs while using (pleasure, joy etc.) and the productive dimension while producing* (designing, deciding etc.) diminishes. We assume that, in commonism, the separation of production* and utilisation will decrease enormously. We re/produce with great delight, and we satisfy our enthusiasm while re/producing. This “universality of individual needs, capacities, pleasures, productive forces etc.” of the individuals, so says Marx in the Grundrisse (1858, p. 387), is the real human-societal wealth, while the “real […] wealth of the individual depends entirely on the wealth of his real connections” (Marx and Engels 1846, p. 37).

3 Mediation Through Commoning

We now have arrived at a thrilling aspect. How do the re/producers gain knowledge about the preferences or needs of the users? On what information basis can new projects of production and preservation be founded? Under what circumstances and in which ways will conflicts of aims and needs be negotiated? How do we deal with limited resources and possibilities in commonism? These questions guide us to the area of mediation and its design through commoning. Mediation basically takes place via means. These are the medium of mediation in its specific form. In capitalism the means reflect exchange as the form of mediation and the logic of exclusion and exploitation that arises from it. They represent the societal logic. Material means—such as kitchen appliances—are often difficult to repair, requiring the purchase of a new one in case of a defect. Symbolic means—such as cultural goods—are artificially restricted in order to maintain their status of commodities. Social means—such as methods of work organisation—allow for a highly cost-efficient exploitation of human labour. The logic of the capitalist society is put into practice via means as concrete calls for action. The means embody the ways in which they must be treated in order to be produced successfully, sold and consumed. They connect people; they are the practical mediation of society. The same is true in commonism.

Independent Self-Replicating Mediation

It is important to understand the meaning of societal mediation in capitalism, for most people think there is no alternative. This view shapes and restricts our understanding of society and mediation. For example, we can hardly imagine that something as complex as society can be consciously designed by us people. The characteristic of capitalism is “unwitting societality”. It appears when two dynamics merge: societal mediation emerges “behind the back” of the people (independent self-replication) and inverts the relation between the subjectively intended satisfaction of needs (social process) and the objectively enforced valorisation (material process). The element of self-replication, the basis of all societies, in capitalism usurps an independent position of constraint against the needs of people. We cannot control capitalism anymore, but capitalism controls us.

Commonism will reflect the elementary logic of commoning: voluntariness and collective disposal, which—according to our thesis—yield conditions of inclusion. Material means—such as the means of re/production—provide the material prerequisites for the highest possible unfolding and satisfaction of productive and reproductive activities. Symbolic means—such as freely available cultural assets and knowledge—are acquired in all their richness and contribute to an unfolding of a lifestyle of enjoyment. Social means—such as methods of self-organisation and communication—will become sources of self-development and allow for a design of activities as pleasurable as possible. In commonism, means also objectify the societal logic and the relevant inclusive calls to action. The forms of dwelling, mobility, communication create new forms of relations between people. Even while eating, we support a re/production designed according to the needs of the people involved. Our everyday life is inclusive.

For us, the notion of mediation (German: “Ver-Mittlung”—via means), of coming together via means in the broadest sense, is an important opening towards imagining something as complicated as society. A logic of inclusion does not operate in an abstract way; it imprints itself into the material, symbolic, and social means and, thus, into the conditions of our lives. Therefore, it is not necessary for individuals to constantly reflect on the needs of others and include them—this would not even be possible in transpersonal relationships. On the contrary, these needs are already incorporated in the means of daily use. This way, the conditions of inclusion—just like the conditions of exclusion in capitalism—are present in people’s everyday activities via the means.

3.1 Commonist Mediation

In order to understand commonist mediation, let us contrast it with that in capitalism. In capitalism, social mediation—and thus the →coherence (p. 126) of society—does not only occur behind the back of the people, it has also turned into →independent self-replication (p. 155): “Their own social action takes the form of the action of objects, which controls the producers instead of being controlled by them” (Marx 1890, p. 89). We have tried to conceptualise that as domination via structures (cf. p. 135) and independent self-replication of conditions (cf. p. 19). Prices and markets are not shaped by the people but are an unwitting societal phenomenon, one dissociated from the conscious actions of the people. The transpersonal level of material socialisation has become independent from the interpersonal level of acting and dominates the actions of people. However, societal mediation can be different.

A popular alternative tries to conceptualise societal mediation at the interpersonal level. Only at the interpersonal level can the needs of others be included. The questions arise: how can we include the needs of everybody and prioritise? How can we guarantee the production* of the required means? Quite rightly, opposition immediately arises: the free society, a plenum of a huge flat-sharing community, a meeting in a football stadium? This alternative conceptualises society in a simple and direct manner, in the form of interpersonal consultations. It is the attempt to arrange transpersonal relationships at the interpersonal level. However, there is some truth in this idea. If we want society to be organised on the basis of people’s needs, this must be done by concrete people in concrete relationships. And concrete relationships can only be direct, interpersonal. However, it is the concept of mediation which allows for a connection of interpersonal formability and societal independence. We do not need to build and arrange everything. We do not need to tell everybody our needs. We do not need to do the impossible and include the needs of humanity in every conflict. The structures of a voluntary and collectively disposing societal cooperation not only make the inclusion of other people easier but also encourage it.

Another alternative tries to delegate the organisation of societal mediation to a central institution. Societal relationships should be consciously planned instead of resulting from uncontrolled market mechanisms. The idea sounds tempting, but here too the question arises: how can we include the needs of everybody and prioritise them? How can we make sure that the means desired are the means produced? As we know, this is what broke the neck of socialist societies with central planning. They could not find a positive solution. However, that is only an empirical argument. In our view, there is a logical flaw in the concept of a society based on central planning as the form of societal mediation. Although it may seem different at first, central planning is related to the image of a “flat-sharing community in a football stadium”. It transcends it solely in the insight that direct coordination of the tasks to be regulated with gigantic numbers of people is impossible. It involves a hierarchy of intermediate stages, integrating information on needs and resources and passing it on upwards, until a reasonably sized institution that is capable of acting starts planning on this basis. Indeed, here interpersonal priorities can be determined, and resource allocation can be planned. So, this is another case of attempting to arrange transpersonal relationships at the interpersonal level—this time through the hierarchical accumulation of information and requirements.

Along a similar line, other approaches speak of safeguarding the controllability of cumulative-hierarchical levels by way of elected and replaceable councils. In our view, these are versions of the same concept: cumulative planning through a hierarchical organisation. They all entail the same fundamental problems: in the process of the cumulative-hierarchical transfer upwards, the people not affected must solve conflicts of needs and resource allocation. The resulting conflict resolutions put the parties concerned in an awkward position: the solutions are not mine, why should I comply? The crux of the matter is that alienation in capitalism results from the fact that material mediation via the market takes control; in hierarchical, cumulatively planning societies it results from “planning for others”. Our conclusion is that planning can only be self-planning. Indeed, conflict solutions can be developed in many places; however, solutions cannot be imposed from above, they must be worked out and put into practice in a self-determined way (cf. Chap. 6, 3.6). A “planning for others” that includes “implementation from above” always leads to a separated generality disposing of the means of domination (cf. Chap. 1, 3.3).

3.2 Simultaneity of Shapeability and Autonomy

We will try to clarify the concept of society and its aspect of autonomy. All human activities are direct and interpersonal. Society is a human phenomenon; therefore it is the result of individual actions. However, these individual actions create a complex phenomenon. The (societal) whole is more than the sum of its (action) parts. Society is an emerging (resulting) phenomenon. The elementary actions, by their definite form, create a specific societal whole, the system form (cf. Chap. 5, 2.1). This societal whole in turn frames individual and collective activity and pushes it into a certain form. It is obvious to secure one’s existence in the given society and to use what is recommended. Actions and society are mutually dependent. However, society is the decisive pole. It sets the conditions of actions and is independent from individual actions. Society exists even if single actions are not in line with the form and logic encouraged by society. Businesses might try to do without exploitation; capitalism will, nevertheless, continue to exist. What is crucial for us is that societal independence must not necessarily turn into independent self-replication.

Independence means that society sets a framework for actions. Independent self-replication means that society sets a framework for actions which can be modified but not overcome or fundamentally changed. The capitalist form of society produces the independent self-replicative frame of exploitation and exclusion. These aims dominate people’s activity and develop their exclusive effect in this frame. The commonist society creates—in our view, through voluntariness and collective disposal—an independent frame of inclusion. However, this inclusive frame precisely necessitates the debate on the aims of societal re/production. There is no independent mechanism dictating how various decisions are made—as the dictate of valorisation does in capitalism. Inclusion is encouraged, but conflicts of needs cannot be automatically settled. They must be mediated by the people themselves. They must decide what the aims of their re/production are. We stressed this when speaking of production* with the emphasis on self-organisation. Inclusive societal conditions require organisation and social awareness.

Production* takes place on the basis of the needs of the users and contributors. When people get together for the production* of consumption means and the required means of re/production, then, generally speaking, the reference-based coordination between production/preservation and utilisation is sufficient. We will deal with this aspect in the next section on commonist stigmergy (Chap. 6, 3.3). However, as soon as conflicts arise between different needs or regarding limited resources and their prioritised use, they must be mediated interpersonally. As demonstrated in the context of cumulative-hierarchical planning, conflicts of needs cannot be decided upon by anonymous mediation without resulting in alienation; instead they must be interpersonally negotiated. Needs change, they are individual or collective and, therefore, cannot be appropriately mediated through a general—thus necessarily abstract—external mechanism refraining from the concrete case such as a computer algorithm, a democratic vote, or other. The mediation of needs on the basis of inclusion is so complex, its conflicts are so manifold and complicated that only the people themselves can settle them; ergo interpersonal relationships are required. In contrast to daily life, which is by and large free of conflicts, conflicts must be taken out of transpersonal mediation and integrated into a space of interpersonal regulation. Today the cookie crumbles differently; in line with the logic of exclusion, money or domination decide on conflicts. Commonism sets a different pattern. Conflicts only find a functional solution if the people involved agree to it. We will expand on this dynamic in the section on conflicts. What we want to emphasise here is that, in the case of conflict, transpersonal inclusive conditions require an interpersonal mediation. How does self-organisation come into play?

A structure setting its own purpose is self-organised. That is the prerequisite in order to be organised according to the needs of the parties involved. Self-organisation must be organised at the interpersonal as well as transpersonal level. At the transpersonal level, however, self-organisation is not a conscious determination of aims by a global panel, central planning committee or world council, but an emergent phenomenon arising from interpersonal self-organisation and its mediation. This mediation is based on stigmergy and interpersonal conflict regulation. In many different places—in projects of production, preservation, dwelling, conflict situations and so on—people voluntarily come together in order to organise their activities—production, preservation, dwelling, mediation of conflicts and so on—according to their needs, thus organising themselves. A commonist society does not function on the basis of a societal plan but rests on self-planning, on the self-determination of purposes by the people. It is not a planned society but one of self-organisation. Commonist mediation—commoning—does not plan society but allows for self-planning and the self-organisation of the people.

3.3 Commonist Stigmergy

Stigmergy is a concept that describes the coordination of communication in a decentralised system comprising a large number of individuals (e.g., a swarm, cf. swarm intelligence): the individuals communicate by influencing their local environment. They leave hints (cf. stigma: signs). That can be the package leaflet of a drug or the form of a light bulb. Stigmergy is all around us in daily life, whether it is a sign at traffic lights, toilet signs, or the “message” conveyed by the shape of a chair on how we should sit on it. We live in a sign-based system of coordinates. The concept of stigmergy derives from research on termites (Grassé 1959): termites implement stigmergic effects via odorous substances, for example, when building termite mounds. Each animal gathers a small ball of mud from the environment, adds a specific odorous substance, and installs it in the common building. The odour tells the next termite how to proceed with the building process. However, stigmergy can not only be found in the animal kingdom; the market is also a stigmergic system.

Each society is kept in motion by stigmergy and, thus, is mediated by signs. The simple explanation is that we do not relate to other people directly, that is, interpersonally; the connection is transpersonal, via material, symbolic, and social means. Signs enable us to make rational decisions as far as society is concerned, that is, decisions in line with the societal conditions. The signs convey to us the societal logic, the rationale of action. In capitalism, one essential transpersonal sign is the price of a commodity, even though its production displays quite a number of signs, such as load-bearing capacity, fat content, weight and so on. It is on the basis of prices that businesses calculate their rationality of production. It is on the basis of prices that people decide whether to buy or sell things. In all our life, prices enable us to adjust our decisions according to the capitalist logic of valorisation. They reduce the complexity of the societal logic to our local action situation and enable us to go along with it. They enable us to save money, pursue our personal advantage, invest our money advantageously, pick a promising job and so on. They allow for a decentralised societal coordination based on indirect signs. Nobody tells us directly what society advocates; but, day after day, the signs themselves—through myriads of hints—illuminate the logic of society. These signs establish a coherence between individual decisions and societal conditions. In commonism there will also be signs, thus an indirect coordination. However, these signs do not communicate the logic of exploitation and →exclusion (p. 17) but that of inclusion.

Commonist signs communicate needs. They allow for the inclusion of the needs of others in our actions. They suggest what we can do. They connect our conscious decisions with societal inclusion. For that purpose, the signs cannot be one-dimensional, quantitative in character; they must be multi-dimensional with a qualitative shape. For example, the signs will communicate where contributors are needed and what aim a project is pursuing. They will point a steel commons towards someone who needs steel. They will direct a cleaning-commons towards a place where it is needed. They inform an innovation commons on the need to automate sulphur extraction because it is harmful for humans. They enable a farming commons to plan their production* for the following year. And they hint at conflicts which must be settled. This also leads to indirect coordination, resulting from the existence of many signs of needs which condense into societal traces of needs. Our needs guide societal re/production via traces of needs. The traces of needs enable us to make inclusive decisions, while the societal conditions of voluntariness and collective disposal encourage us to act in a truly inclusive way.

The medium of sign-based cooperation is the material, symbolic, and social means that we create and maintain. They are not isolated from mediation but are a part of it. In this context, stigmergy can mediate information in two ways: process inherent information directly emerges from the production and preservation process, and process accompanying information is indirectly created before the process starts or in parallel to it. The information is either directly embodied in the means—as in the case of a nail that tells us how to drive it in—or indirectly attached to the means—as in the case of a price tag assigning a price to the nail. Examples of direct process information are tracking information, the shouts of the baby, or the red links in Wikipedia. They speak of the process and are the basis of my activities in this process. In addition, there are indirect pieces of information for the purpose of planning and coordination, necessary input conditions of a process (resources, tools, nappies, energy etc.), planned exit conditions (results, secondary effects etc.), open tasks (to-do-lists), required contributions and qualifications and so on. All of these signs communicate the societal logic in many ways and enable people to act accordingly. The commonist form of sign-based coordination entails some important elements.

3.3.1 Self-Selection

The core element of stigmergy is the decision on which activities are to be carried out. So far, hierarchical or consensus-based decision systems have been opposing each other and marking the arena. In both cases, the individual is the recipient of the decision, while the consensus-based decision system benefits from increased participation. Commonist-stigmergic decisions rest on voluntariness. The individual plays an active part in the decision by selecting the task he/she wants to fulfil. Self-selection is grounded in local information, such as the information I have regarding the task to be fulfilled. For example, if the local waste disposal commons communicates a need for further contributors, I can join. If there are not enough contributors a conflict arises which must be rationally solved (cf. Chap. 6, 3.5); this lies outside stigmergic coordination.

3.3.2 Tracing of Needs

In commonist stigmergy pieces of information express needs, for the processes they emerge from are production* processes of material, symbolic, and social conditions for the satisfaction of needs. The signs point towards the productive and sensual-vital dimensions of needs and not towards a scale of utilisation. For instance, they communicate how limited, dangerous, or demanding the production of a washing machine is. The users communicate their different needs for strawberries and the strawberry farmyard makes use of this information.

Network Theory

Each society is a network. Therefore, it can be described in terms of the network theory. Three concepts are important to us: emergence, nodes or hubs, and edges. Emergence means many single events creating something bigger, an emergent structure that results from the overcoming of the sum of single effects. Solar radiation, the wind and so on create the weather, the billions of exchanges create capitalism and inclusive activities designed to satisfy needs create commonism. Hubs are nodes of special importance in the network. They integrate information and effects. They and their relations, the edges, create the network. In capitalism businesses or state institutions are hubs. In commonism it is the commons which assume meta-tasks, that is, tasks providing for the self-organisation of other commons projects. The edges represent mediation between the nodes.

3.3.3 Bandwidth

Information for coordination in commonism is a matter of quality. It therefore needs a high bandwidth (capacity of data transfer) when it is communicated and becomes part of a mediation process. That is a fundamental difference between commonist stigmergy and mediation via money, which merely represent one-dimensional quantity as price. Prices cannot represent or communicate needs directly. What they represent is the logic of valorisation, whether something is profitable or not. Commonist-stigmergic information can be transported in many forms: images, texts, videos, augmented reality and so on. We assume the internet will play an important part in providing this bandwidth.

3.3.4 Societal Impact of Coordination

Commonist stigmergy answers Hayek’s problem of knowledge in a different way than the stigmergic mediation via the market. Hayek’s problem asks for a “rational” planning under the condition that knowledge is only available in a contextual, local manner, limited and dispersed. Hayek’s market-friendly approach praises the exchange-shaped complexity reduction of prices and competition compared to under-complex, misguided central planning (cf. v. Hayek 1936). The market is also a form of stigmergy, albeit a very limited one considering it is only equipped with minimal bandwidth via prices. On their basis, the societal coordination of needs is a free-for-all battle.

The commonist-stigmergic inclusive coordination of needs must rest on rich, qualitative information. Global, open information enables the individual to participate where needs can be satisfied in a better way than anywhere else. Comprehensive signs allow for a complex mediation of needs. The logic of the signs does not aim at valorisation but at the satisfaction of needs. Commonist stigmergy allows for a design of the conditions according to our needs and does not put us under the pressure of an abstract logic. It does not organise the societal process but creates the conditions for societal self-organisation. It allows for an indirect self-regulation and self-selection on the basis of the needs of all people. Thus, local activity is inclusive and need-oriented: it unfolds on the basis of everybody’s needs. Stigmergy is the foundation for an emergent, coherent, integrated outcome in a society with the highest possible satisfaction of needs.

Societal coordination does not materialise merely at the interpersonal level, even though interpersonal cooperation is its basis. Commonism does not give transpersonal relationships an interpersonal shape, for example, in the forms of central planning or hierarchical council systems (cf. Chap. 6, 3.1). On the contrary, commonist-stigmergic mediation is designed for the transpersonal level of large and diverse systems—like overall societal mediation—rather than for small interpersonal units. Based on the law of large numbers, the analogous stigmergic law was coined for the transpersonal level: “If a sufficient number of people and commons is provided, there will be a person or commons for each job that needs to be done” (Meretz 2015, 2017, 2018).Footnote 2 Such a “law” can unfold if the two conditions we mentioned above are met: the voluntary choice of activity (self-selection) and the collective disposal of action conditions.

3.4 Changeability and Ex-ante Mediation

In the market an ex-post (in retrospect) mediation of needs and production takes place. Businesses produce; whether there is sufficient demand for the quality and amount of their products will be revealed in the selling process (with the exception of trade between businesses, where there are also prior arrangements). In commonism this arrangement will take place ex ante (in advance). Production and preservation are based on anticipated needs. In the market that place is filled by price signals, experience and market research. In commonism, re/production is preceded by a stigmergic and possibly conflictual communication on needs.

Many problems can be solved before a conflict arises. For example, a coordination commons for buildings might communicate to a steel-producing commons that a school and a kindergarten should be built in its region. If the steel-producing commons finds enough people and resources to cover the requirements, there is no conflict to begin with. This clearly shows that, contrary to the ideology of economic sciences, shortage is not a natural phenomenon but a socially fabricated one. If our needs are the foundation of production*, many conflicts regarding resources will not arise at all given that the shortage will have already been overcome in the production* process. For us it is difficult to conceptualise a world with less scarcity, because in our capitalist world scarcity is the precondition for economic activity. We continually witness an enormous abundance of consumption means restricted by property and money. We simply cannot afford them. In commonism there are also limitations. However, they are not the result of an abstract principle but the consequence of natural conditions, and we decide how to use them. They are designable.

3.5 Conflicts in the Inclusive Society

The term conflict already gives us the creeps, and justifiably so. In an exclusion society a conflict of needs means I must try and defend my needs, protect and enforce them. Now the heat is on: it is “I/we against the others”. And I must be strong for that. Conflict means the existence of different, conflicting needs at a given moment. Conflict management, therefore, amounts to the mediation of needs; this is not something negative, least of all when the mediation of needs can assume the form of exploring and better understanding needs.

Conflicts are not a side issue or a nuisance in commonism. Commonism will be the first society in which we will have the time and possibility to actually settle conflicts. It will not be possible to simply enforce specific needs through the use of instruments of domination—whether economic, social or political—they will have to be negotiated with others. As different needs that can be in conflict with each other at a given moment also imply different goals (of action), conflicts can lead to decisions on the prioritisation of goals. The discussion on goals, and particularly on their prioritisation, is central in a free society, because a free society means being able to consciously set and define one’s goals.

Maybe a thought experiment can clarify the position of conflicts. Let us assume commonism is working. Societal re/production can cover many needs, and the people produce their life conditions according to their needs on a daily basis. Sign-based coordination suffices for the “normal functioning”. However, society changes, either due to new needs or due to new ideas on re/production, environmental issues or other impulses. Some changes cause no frictions, there are no conflicts of needs and society changes. Other changes cause a conflict of needs. While large parts of society function as usual, in other parts decisions are pending. These conflicts draw attention.

Technical means could possibly allow for a general adjustment and prioritising of needs—for example, via an algorithmic decision-making procedure (cf. Heidenreich 2017). However, we assume that in many cases the complexity of need mediation requires the conscious participation of people. This conscious arrangement will take place within interpersonal, direct relationships. We will meet in many different hubs and commons projects to make decisions: steel for the kindergarten or the school, space for nature or houses, how to use the house with a sea view? Not all those affected by the decisions will be present, but all those who wish to be can do so. Do the needs of the absent then tend to be overheard?

Of course, that is a real danger, but the form of mediation does not encourage the neglect or conscious ignoring of needs. For the conflict mediators, it works much better to include the needs of others, for it makes their recommended solutions more robust and significant. It will convince more people and motivate them to contribute to their implementation (cf. self-selection). If a conflict-management solution does nothing but directly enforce isolated, individual needs, it is likely to only convince a small number of people. The people will not embrace the decisions of the procedure, they will try to change the procedure itself, or turn to a new hub for a different solution. The main point is that conflict-management hubs have no instruments of domination to impose their decisions on other people. The conflict resolution cannot be enforced, it must convince. Their power is “social power, rooted in the capacity to mobilize people for cooperative, voluntary collective actions” (Wright 2011, p. 20).

Concrete agents could try to carry out exclusive actions; this, however, would put them in a quandary. A steel distributing commons that for short-sighted reasons—for example, because it makes their life easier—often applies non-inclusive actions could be faced with the problem of a steel-producing commons or logistic commons denying cooperation. People participate in this commons because it is important to them, because here they can satisfy their needs. If their cooperation commons repeatedly obstructs this satisfaction of needs, they have good reasons to look for a better cooperation partner. Therefore, the obvious choice for the concrete actors is to include many needs, for their cooperation partners will be inclined to further their cooperation.

There can be domination in commonism. But people have good reasons not to submit to these attempts at securing domination, given that there are no instruments of societal domination to support such attempts. I have nothing at my disposal to force other people to do what I want. If the streets are dirty or copper mining is poisonous, we cannot simply pay wage-earners in precarious situations to perform these jobs. We must organise things in a way that people will evaluate and experience their respective activities as important enough to carry them out. Therefore, copper mining will possibly have to be automatised at great expense, as we value the health of the people involved. It is an effort that is not profitable on the market but one which we consider is worth the cost.

A commons not able to solve the conflict will try to organise the mediation of needs in a different way. For that purpose, for example, it may be useful to extend the conflict and have more people get consciously involved. It is very likely that there will be people with a passion for conflict mediation, experts that can be invited. Many things are possible, but one thing is for sure: there is no court of last resort that will ultimately decide on the conflict. That would require an institution of separated generality, for example, a state or council, located beyond mediation. This, however, would be a centre of power, an instrument of power that can become a means of domination. Conflicts will have to be settled by the people involved themselves. If they cannot settle the matter, nothing will be set in motion. The decision lies on those practically acting. No higher authority will be able to make the decision for them.

3.6 Embedded Generality

Most emancipatory utopias assume a separated institution of generality. Whether they call it state or something else is irrelevant. Elected representatives, volunteers or councils are supposed to assemble in these separate institutions to make decisions. We believe that such a separated institution entails a limitation of freedom for a lot of people. It will only be able to operate in a meaningful way if equipped with instruments of domination to enforce decisions. Even if it enforces the “objectively best” decisions, it must get past individual wills, thus suppressing and commanding them. Applying instruments of domination is not necessary but possible and, therefore, encouraged. These instruments of domination lead to a hierarchical structure of societal relations. People are not required to include the needs of others in their decisions; they can ignore them. We are afraid that such an “institution of separate generality” entails further negative dynamics.

First, there is an impulse for justification. An institution of separate generality must regard and justify its decisions as generally correct; otherwise it would not try to enforce them. In consequence, its decisions do not reflect the subjective considerations of fallible individuals and must, rather, be presented as objective and generally correct. They have to be the best solution for the problems. This urge for justification we know too well from the pretended objectivity of real-socialist party rule, which outright claimed “The party is always right”.Footnote 3 The particular opinion of some is elevated to become the “true” opinion of the general public. The opinions and needs of the “losers” are disqualified. A “separate generality” always enforces the general at the expense of the particular.

Secondly, there is a tendency towards expansion. An institution of generality tends to usurp and to centralise processes of self-organisation in the resolution of conflicts. The parties to the conflict are less and less able to find a solution and are increasingly tempted to use the institution of generality and its power to enforce their needs. This is no ill will; it is reasonable. If there is an option of powerful enforcement, it obviously makes sense to use it in order to get a quick and clear decision. Thus, we assume, conflicts become increasingly institutionalised, in turn increasing the power and importance of the institution. Although there is hope the institution might only intervene in truly important cases of conflict, we are afraid its expansion is obvious. And where does its limit lie? Which conflicts should be out of bounds for this institution? When more than ten people are involved? When it refers to a conflict within a project itself? Here too we fear that the decision-making power of the institution will expand, and it will finally produce a complicated body of laws, similar to that of the capitalist state.

As long as voluntariness is guaranteed, the institution cannot force anyone into activities. However, the restriction of exclusion via collective disposal is substantially hampered by allowing the institution to decide on the use of some of the material, symbolic and social means. Even if the institution does not “possess” them, decision-making powers lead to partial domination. In addition, this institution requires a sanctioning power with which to threaten or implement. In capitalism, as in real socialism, these decision-making and sanctioning powers are the state’s prerogative, with its monopoly on the use of force.

Instead of the forceful implementation of “objective” decisions, in commonism, generally speaking, those recommendations will prevail which can best mediate different needs in an inclusive manner. In our view, this will lead to the rejection of a general institution as well as of a central societal organisation. Generality is not manufactured in a separate institution, but it is the product of many decentralised decisions and actions or, in other words, it is the product of polycentric institutions and of the multiplicity of commons. It is an emerging phenomenon. There is no societal mechanism enforcing a logic upon us. We ourselves settle need-related conflicts and make decisions while being active. The emerging spread-out generality has not been completely designed and, still, it expresses our needs. It has not been consciously planned, and yet it is the result of conscious acts of self-determined positioning and conflict management. It has no life separated from people’s actions but is embedded in them. It is the lively expression of individual-societal self-organisation.

3.6.1 Council Communism and Its Criticism

Council communists are the anarchists of communism. They want an institution of central planning, but their representatives should be “no politicians, no government. They are messengers, carrying and interchanging the opinions, the intentions, the will of the groups of workers” (Pannekoek 1942). Councils are no government, and the council institution is no state because it lacks the essential element of a state: the power to enforce a decision. “The councils are no government; not even the most central councils bear a governmental character. For they have no means to impose their will upon the masses; they have no instruments of power. All social power is vested in the hands of the workers themselves” (ibid.). But why do the workers follow their decisions? “What enforces the accomplishment of the decisions of the councils is their moral authority. But moral authority in such a society has a more stringent power than any command or constraint from a government” (ibid.). This is the utopia of real democracy, real representation. The central councils reach perfect decisions: they take most needs and most information into account and reach the most inclusive decision. This sounds good, but it is highly idealistic.

Councils were not theoretically envisioned, but arose from self-organisation in factories, social movements and so on. In factories, workers realised that it would be too time-consuming to discuss and decide everything in the general assembly. Therefore, they organised themselves in small groups which would send one or two delegate(s) to the central council meeting. The delegates were controlled by the group and usually groups could constantly vote out their delegates; sometimes, delegates even had an imperative mandate. Delegates with an imperative mandate have very limited decision power and are bound to the will of the group they represent. Within socialist revolutions, such as the November revolution in Germany and the October revolution in Russia, councils formed and were scaled up. Socialists used council democracy not only in factories and districts but in whole production chains and, finally, on the national level. But with the scaling up of council democracy serious problems arise, which historically barely became visible, because council democracy was usually destroyed by authoritarian powers such as the Bolsheviks.

We sympathise with council communism, as it is one of the most important antiauthoritarian strands of communism, but we are critical of its worldwide implementation because council democracy tends to form a state-like institution. Council communists think the best way to do societal planning is by centralisation and an institution of generality. We do not have enough space for an elaborated discussion, but we want to point out some problems.

First, delegates become socially a government. Whereas delegates on lower hierarchical levels may still find time to do other things, delegates on higher levels must specialise in planning, evaluating information, decision-making and conflict resolution. Despite reflection and openness, a certain culture and entrenched routines facilitate access for certain groups and milieus and make it difficult for others. But how do the “sick, physically or cognitively impaired, sad, small, old, dying, dreamy people” (Lutosch 2021) gain access? Formalised rules and representation may help, but cannot grant equal access. Independent forms of decision-making may be increasingly conceived by most people as relieving and efficient, but they undermine the idea of self-government (cf. Demirovič 2009, p. 196).

Secondly, delegates may become politically a government. The political centralisation and hierarchy of council democracy encourages delegates to treat their electing councils as voters. The higher councils certainly (and rightly) have their own ideas and concepts, and they will try to persuade their electing councils with the largest amount of information and knowledge. This is not a human flaw but, rather, something reasonable; they simply spend more time pondering on and discussing up-scaled conflicts. Deselection power may make it more complicated for council delegates to become politicians, but it cannot stop it. An imperative mandate destroys the desired centralisation and concentration of information and (decision-making) power, because the lowest councils would have to understand up-scaled conflicts and decision as much as the councils working at the highest aggregated levels. Frequently, delegates will not perceive their actions as political-instrumental; they will speak of “best solutions” and “practical constraints” and unconsciously treat their delegating councils as voters. A high moral integrity and social awareness may shield them, but unconscious power mechanisms and possibilities to use power are in place.

Thirdly, the tendency to usurp and centralise processes of self-organisation has already been mentioned. This leads to an implicit state logic. The council institution concentrates a lot of power and access to resources and therefore has ample opportunities to present its decisions as the best and most inclusive options. If re/producers are dissatisfied, they have no real alternative, but can only try to change the council’s plans, which in turn increases their power. Ultimately, the council’s plans have no alternative and are therefore enforced de facto—although not de jure. Finally, there is the threat of the real seizure of executive power and the corresponding wage labour. The subjugation of social power to state power can happen gradually or abruptly.

Nevertheless, Pannekoek’s ideals are pretty close to our own. It may even be possible to build an inclusive council organisation. We just deem it unlikely. Aggregation as a mono-institution reaches a tipping point where it becomes an obstacle to inclusive problem solving. This tipping point might be shifted by new social and technical means, but we think it will still be reached. In a larger picture, council communism may be understood outside its historical setting. Council communism emerged at the beginning of the Fordist revolution, and the ideas of centralisation, pyramid structure and strict hierarchy of the latter were a determinant factor; furthermore, the decentral communication tools that exist today were not available.

3.6.2 Communist Centralisation, Anarchist Decentralisation and Commonist Polycentricity

That said, aggregation, centralisation and collective decision-making remain important in every utopia. Large factories, cities and cooperating factories may want to, or have to, reach collective decisions and use council democracy, sociocracy, other forms of collective decision-making or even a kind of parliamentary democracy. Utopia should open up the possibilities for many different ways of organisation. Another strand of antiauthoritarian socialism—anarchism—is deeply critical about centralisation and political hierarchy, and cherishes autonomy, decentralisation, and self-administration. Many anarchist utopias imagine a decentralised and self-sufficient re/production on the level of communes, with these communes building only loose federation and cooperation. However, these loose federations and low levels of division of labour may be just fine for peasant-based societies, but industrial and information societies need other practices of planning and coordination. Communists argue for centralisation, complex division of labour and global planning, which may lead to a state-like institution and new political hierarchy. On the other hand, anarchist decentralisation may lead to low levels of efficiency and cooperation, particularity, and disintegration.

It is easy to see that both concepts have their strengths and weaknesses. One of them might be better than ours, but the first problem is that these models are rarely developed—that is what we call for in this book: a development and discussion of utopias. Our model is a combination of anarchist and communist concepts called polycentric mediation. In polycentric mediation, aggregation, centralisation and collective decision-making are an important part of an overall decentralised mode of coordination. Centralisation can flexibly arise and weaken but will likely not accumulate in one central institution of planning and decision-making. Finally, we want to strengthen the notion that a free society is a place of many places. Voluntariness and collective disposal can manifest itself in many different ways. Maybe in south-east Asia people will plan and decide in a council communist way, whereas people in North America have better experiences with a more anarchist way of coordination.

3.7 Planning and Polycentricity

In commonism there will be no central institution mediating needs, providing infrastructures, or enabling self-organisation (cf. Chap. 6, 3.6). The basic preconditions for self-organisation—voluntariness and collective disposal—are transpersonal and general. Specific conditions, however, must be built interpersonally; not by a central, general institution but by many polycentric institutions (cf. Carlisle and Gruby 2019). These meta-commons address the diversity of needs. We assume they will be founded on many different levels. Some will help at the interpersonal level to solve conflicts within commons or between commons. Some will observe and evaluate the transpersonal level; for example, a coordination-meta will collate the use of steel in a region, mediate it and, thus, identify conflicting demands. Some will produce material, others social and symbolic infrastructure. An infrastructure commons planning the wastewater regulation for a town, an information commons gathering and facilitating information on worldwide wastewater regulation. Some conflicts and decisions will concern a wider field: “Do we want to build more schools or cultivate more strawberries?” But very few decisions will concern all of humanity. It could possibly be decisions such as “Do we want to put resources and efforts into a project taking us to Mars? Or do we prefer a project balancing out the climate?” Thus, the coordination and attainment of conditions will be located at many levels. Figure 6.2 illustrates an example of a polycentric stigmergic mediation.

Fig. 6.2
An illustration of a polycentric stigmergic mediation. It labels institutions, commons, meta, and infrastructure linked to several other circles and to a collection of circles.

Illustration of a polycentric stigmergic mediation

Commons need each other. Commons “connect horizontally with similar enterprises, vertically with those who provide them with materials or use their products” (Pannekoek 1942). Therefore, they will rest on implicit or explicit cooperation. Explicit cooperation may be needed for specialised products such as ships or complicated machines. Thirty different commons producing steel, engines, and building ships may enter into an agreement to collectively produce 300 ships within the next six years. These contracts of sorts won’t be enforced by a central state but by the commons themselves. If the steel commons fail to deliver on plan, the partners will first try to help and include their needs. If this steel commons overestimates its production all the time, commons will only reluctantly cooperate or even end cooperation. Commons producing the same means—for example, alpine cheese—could form an institution to collectively distribute their products and plan their production. These institutions of aggregated decision-making may use different social means, such as representative democracy, sociocracy or council organisation. Commonist society will surely invent many more and better means. For all aggregated decision-making, the following holds true: these institutions will persist only as long as they are able to include the needs of their participating commons. If they cannot, single commons will leave, they will restructure or dissolve. In commonism aggregation is not the governing logic but a flexible possibility.

3.8 Characteristics of Inclusive Conflicts

Conflicts based on exclusion often lead to a rigid attitude. We have committed ourselves to this or that need—or opinion—and now must push it through. But such a conflict rarely allows for a reflection on my needs: where do they come from? Why are they important to me? What do the needs of others mean to me? On the contrary, an inclusive mediation of needs is not about defending myself against others, but about looking for the best solution within the context of a common effort. Therefore, conflicts will always have a relating, investigating and clarifying character.

We often do not really know what we want. Conflicts open up space for us to look into our needs. Also, my needs change when they become aware of the needs of others. For instance, the wish for a swimming pool might become less attractive when compared to the need for a new hospital. Such positive trade-offs are well known from times of crisis, when people depend on inclusive cooperation. In commonism we will try to collectively find out what we and others need.

There is another dynamic at play here. Inclusion also refers to problems occurring within the cooperation. If a commons distributing washing machines often gets late deliveries from a commons producing them, it can obviously try to establish cooperation with other commons producing washing machines to bypass the unreliable commons. Or it can try and get to the bottom of the late deliveries and organise some form of support for the failing commons. Maybe it does not communicate its resource requirements or lacks contributors. Cooperation does not have the form “if you can’t deliver, I’ll go somewhere else”. In an inclusive cooperation there are good reasons to take an interest in others and support them in their problem-solving efforts.

Just because there is a need, it does not entail the right to its satisfaction. That would imply an abstract right. In a stigmergic process a multitude of needs can be signalled. At the beginning, nobody will decide which needs really count. Who may decide why they are important? All needs are reasonable. Mediation with other needs will reveal their priority. This makes it perfectly clear: not all needs can be satisfied at once. Nevertheless, there is no reason to disqualify certain needs due to abstract rules. Decisions regarding the satisfaction of signified needs based on a stigmergic and communicative procedure aim primarily at establishing a sequence for the production* of the relevant means. However, certain vital needs will obviously enjoy a high priority in production*. Refraining from satisfying needs is also a societal option. Instead of further “chasing alien stars” we can also decide to “lie on the water and watch the sky peacefully” (Adorno 1980, p. 179, transl. M.R.).

Commonism is no harmonious paradise. It is the mediation of humanity with itself. Needs of utilisation are mediated with needs of production and preservation, and vice versa. We decide what we want to consume and how much we are willing to do for it—this is the very essence of free coordination. When the mediation of these needs is free from domination, we live in a free society.

4 Commonist Individuality

With society, the people themselves will change. They will develop different needs, different emotional states, different premises and different reasons. We will discuss some aspects of these assumed changes below. Certain consequences follow from our categorical considerations. We are navigating troubled waters and would like to invite you to find the correct course.

4.1 Overcoming of Separateness

In capitalist society it seems self-evident to experience oneself as a separate individual, harbouring private wishes and feelings, a particular history and identity. Economic sciences hypostasised this separateness in the ideal type of homo economicus—a person only maximising his/her egoistic interests. This idea of the human seems strange to us, considering how many times we include other people and their needs into our actions. It seems to indicate a certain rationality of market actors in the economy pointing towards exclusion, rather than a human characteristic.

Some scientists even claim that in many →precapitalist societies (p. 20) people did not experience themselves as individual beings (Merchant 1987; Bauer and Matis 1992). It was natural for them to think of themselves and of their needs as part of and in relation to their family, their tribe or other communities.

Capitalism leads us to believe that our needs are separated, that we can become happy in isolation from the happiness of others. Indeed, our needs are torn apart in capitalism. In capitalist reality I must satisfy my needs at the expense of others. The truth, however, is that our needs are related to each other. We experience this in interpersonal relationships, where we are better off when the people we care for are also well.Footnote 4 This reference applies to our transpersonal relationships as well. In this case, the satisfaction of our needs refers to others in general. In radical terms: if another person, no matter who, a general other, is forced into labour or is forced to suppress his/her needs, the satisfaction of my needs is infringed. Why?

“New human being”

The focus of our theory is not on changing people but on changing societal conditions. Commonism does not demand that people be “conditioned” in a particular manner to be “empathic”, “altruistic” or “new”. There is no need for a re-education or adaptation; commonism should rather allow for the need-oriented collective unfolding of people. However, in transvolution the people will change in accordance with the new conditions of acting and living, they will develop new needs, get to know themselves better: “Walking we change the world and ourselves” (following the Zapatista slogan “Asking we walk”).

In the exclusion society, the quality of the satisfaction of our needs is often hampered or feels dim or flat, for it is—generally speaking—instable and precarious. There are people who have good reasons to infringe on the satisfaction of my needs, just like the satisfaction of my needs occurs at their expense. If I limit the freedom of others, whether on purpose or not, it can be reasonable for them to limit my freedom and extend their freedom at my expense. Thus, the productive dimension of our needs is damaged. We are usually not aware of this. We feel so separated from other people that we believe we could not harm others because there is no relationship between us. That is in fact a fallacy. We might not have any interpersonal relationship, but we are related to all people transpersonally. We could comprehend this idea, but most of the time we suppress or ignore it. Emotionally, this enforcement against others comes back as a feeling of threat, for each enforcement is an enforcement against oneself given that other people—for identical reasons—could answer my actions the same way. The satisfaction of my needs at the expense of the needs of others will always be contested at the expense of my needs elsewhere. This relation of mutual hostility is always also a relation of self-hostility (cf. p. 121). And vice versa: as our needs are fundamentally linked in society, my unlimited happiness requires others to be in the same position. I can only be free if we are all free.

In commonism, this dependency of our needs on the needs of all others is realised as a societal experience of connectedness, not of separateness. The relatedness no longer limits my needs, it is not something I try to ignore in order to intensify my satisfaction. It is realised as unconditioned inclusive relationship (cf. Chap. 5, 2.2), it is the basis of my actions. The material-symbolic conditions are in line with my inner psychic relatedness. Under inclusive conditions, it is beneficial for me to act out this relatedness and actually include the needs of others—thus satisfying my needs as well as those of others. As I can include others, I can include all of my needs. I cannot and need not assert myself against anybody and, therefore, neither against myself. As I can include others, I am being included. To attain this would be to reach a state of congruence between the material-symbolic level of relatedness and the psychic level of relatedness. In both cases it is normal to include others. The consequences for the individual would soon become obvious. We would have less reasons to keep our distance from other people, to be afraid of them, to regard them as strangers. We would be less inclined to exclude them and, in turn, would be less excluded ourselves. We could develop trust, feel integrated and dependant without fear. Because this is what we are: societally, we depend on each other—not the concrete other but, societally, on the general other. This most definitely coincides with a different self-perception. We are bound to not experience others and their needs as alien. We are bound to feel the concrete relatedness of needs as the emotional expression of relatedness, of solidarity. Nevertheless, individuality and diversity remain the basis of this relatedness.

4.2 Overcoming of Community

Many people despise the forced separateness and the constant pressure to prevail. Very often their response is the abstract opposite: a desire for community. They long for being part of something, being together, being with each other; for a community without fighting, without opposition, without exclusion; a community in line with our needs, even corresponding to each other. A wish for oneness emerges. For our needs to correspond in harmony, we can be different only inasmuch as everything fits together. Forced separation due to the logic of exclusion gives birth to its opposite: the melting down of differences. The guiding principle is harmony, the wish for a global harmony in which all needs are compatible and all people want the same—and are the same. For wanting the same implies being the same. Uniformity vaporises individuality. Individuality is only allowed inasmuch as it fits into the common. The wish aims at a disappearance of differences within the community. In a nutshell: “we are all one”.

Harmonious community requires the subordination of the individual to the collective, of the particular to the general. A harmonious community is unimaginable without a limitation of the individual, without the reduction, curtailment and, ultimately, exclusion of those needs that are not in line with this harmony. This way harmony becomes exclusion. A harmonious community aims at a coexistence without rough edges, without conflicts. While capitalism isolates and puts us up against each other, in the collective we are communalised and pressed together. Both states tell a truth about our needs: capitalism teaches us that our needs are different; the message of the community is that our needs are related to each other. Commonism aims at a relatedness in diversity, a collectivity grounded in individuality. Or, in the words of Bini Adamczak, “Satisfying forms of relation […] must include the option of difference and dissent, of aggression and crack. They must not be conceptualised as harmonious but as able to deal with conflict, not as trouble-free but as squeaking-flickering” (2017, p. 274, transl. M.R.).

Inclusion is fundamentally impaired if it only aims at the inclusion of others. Inclusion demands the integration of one’s own needs, getting to know them and standing by them. The inclusive society is not a society of self-sacrificing altruists but one of individuals related to each other in an inclusive manner. Our needs are different, we are different. We are neither able to do away with this difference nor should we try to. At the same time, our needs refer to each other. We are neither able to do away with this reference nor should we try to. Our reference to each other derives from our difference and vice versa. In commonism, we can live out our difference on the basis of realised relatedness that becomes connectedness. In the inclusive society we truly relate to each other in a real and positive manner. We support each other while satisfying our own needs. To unfold my individuality, to develop our difference, is to support the individuality of other people. Some like to work in a steel mill, others like to keep the town clean. One is good at listening to others and helping them detect their needs, others like to raise awareness on conflicts and settle them. In acting out and articulating our needs we support the satisfaction of the needs of others. Our individuality is no longer the wall blocking relatedness but the door that gives access to it.

4.3 Overcoming of Ethics

Ethical actionFootnote 5 means people doing the things they feel to be right. This is often done in contrast to societal conditions which encourage a different behaviour. Ethics seldom pursue self-interest because great importance is given to the interests of other people. Ethics overcome individual needs. In addition, ethics entail freedom. We would rarely think that a person behaving ethically is forced to include the needs of others. Ethics involves inclusion by free will.

There is another element in ethics. Ethical behaviour often involves consciously putting the needs of others above my own. Ethics reminds me to attach more importance to the needs of others than to mine. This behaviour has an important and self-evident prerequisite. The fact that preferring the needs of others involves limiting the satisfaction of my own needs implies the existence opposing needs. An inclusive ethic unconsciously implies conditions of exclusion. While the conditions in which the action takes place encourage the satisfaction of my needs at the expense of others, ethics demands that we position ourselves against these conditions and “think of others”. Examples can be found in fair-trade-consumption, monetary donations, or self-sacrificing for others. This element gives ethics a new meaning: it is represented as free inclusion under conditions of exclusion, as an acting against the conditions.

In an inclusive society, however, to act inclusively is not to sacrifice oneself anymore. Inclusive acting does not demand giving up one’s own possibilities of satisfaction. Inclusive conditions encourage a way of satisfying my needs which allows for, or even extends, the satisfaction of the needs of others. Inclusion is not a limiting supplement, a form of resistance within exclusive normality but an everyday normality. Inclusion loses its ethical dimension. It does not have to exercise its power on people via ethical norms but is encouraged by countless conditions of action. But does this make inclusion a given? And are ethics not, in fact, a free decision to include others because I consider it important and not merely because the conditions encourage it?

When practicing ethical inclusion, I do so because my ethics tell me to hold other people in high regard. I include others because this seems important and correct to me. But, in reality, we remain disconnected. Maybe I feel better when helping others. This is even more so when I help people close to me, while the feeling diminishes when dealing with the general other. My withdrawal in favour of others will likely leave me with a better conscience than a higher satisfaction of my needs. In an inclusive society, I include others because we are actually related to each other. I am actually better off when I include others. Under inclusive conditions, I watch out for others because that is best for me and for others. Satisfying my needs is anxiety-free—and therefore most satisfying—only when it is not done at the expense of others. Generally speaking, commonism dissolves the contradiction between my needs and those of others. Crucially, difference and conflicts remain, but I am actually better off if others are better off. While ethics assume the separateness of our needs—something that is produced societally in capitalism, in opposition to our relatedness—commonism implements our actual relatedness.

Commonism overcomes ethics. The ethical self-sacrifice comes to an end because the inclusion of others does not demand foregoing one’s own satisfaction of needs. The original ethical aim of the inclusion of others is kept alive and assumes a new form: the inclusion of others contains and secures my own inclusion. The ethical aim is realised in an unethical manner (cf. p. 204).

4.4 Relationship to Nature

The commonist society will most definitely develop a new relationship with nature. We have already dealt with our “internal nature” as beings in need. We will no longer be forced to put aside our needs, to act against ourselves. I no longer have to overcome myself, subdue my “internal nature”. “External nature”, referring to other people, has also been dealt with in many ways. But what about our relation with the non-human external nature? How does that change in an inclusive society?

So far, we have only partially conceptualised this relation. We can be sure of one thing: in commonism we will have the option of not destroying our natural foundation. There is no “independent logic” anymore suggesting “cost reduction” through cost externalisation or “economisation” through production that harms the environment. We now have ample possibilities of sustainably using and protecting nature. We can dedicate more of our energy and better technology to practicing an ecological production and preservation in all of society. This, however, will also involve conflicts. Some will advocate a strict sustainable regime demanding the use of limited resources exclusively in closed material cycles. Others might be willing to turn a blind eye on closed material cycles at the beginning and focus on developing the methods and techniques regarding ecological production. Ending “production for the sake of production” (Marx, 1890, p. 621) and the constant desire to extend sales opportunities will probably cause a fundamental change in our relation with nature as far as production* is concerned. There will be a genuine societal chance to break with the necessity of economic growth and to establish a generally accepted reduction in the consumption of natural resources (“degrowth”) and new relations between society and nature (cf. Görg 2003). Nature will not only be seen as a resource to be used and will be appreciated for a variety of reasons. Our view on nature will widen and differentiate. A forest can be a resource for manufacturing furniture, but it can also be a recreation area, a habitat for wildlife, or simply wilderness. Nature will not be solely appreciated for the raw material it delivers for production* but also for its variety. When sales battles and market power have become obsolete, a school of fish can be something to simply admire, and a forest lake can remain precious in itself.Footnote 6

5 FAQ: Frequent Questions About Commonism

The questions we are asked about commonism frequently repeat themselves. We summarise them here and try to give concise answers.

5.1 Is Domination Really Abolished?

Unfortunately, it seems highly likely that people will always have the chance to prevail at the expense of others. In commonism, all one can do is simply hoot down another. However, the crucial question is whether instruments of domination will be available in a form that allows for an effective, long-term and secured domination. Could a commons mediating conflicts ignore needs in the long run? No, it does not have any means at its disposal to enforce its recommendations. The long-term ignoring of needs would eventually mean losing support. Could a wastewater commons keep up a deficient wastewater regulation over a longer period of time? Well, the prime question would be: why should the commons want that? But even if that were to occur, some people would try and change this commons or form a new one, one that will better satisfy existing needs, or other commons would refuse to cooperate with the wastewater commons.

Our main idea is that if people cannot be coerced into doing things and there are no general abstract possibilities to exclude people, domination cannot be established. On the one hand, it is no longer subjectively functional or encouraged to strive for domination over others. Other people no longer appear as competitors or enemies. On the other hand, there is ample opportunity to evade attempts at domination. Without property, a central element for exclusion is missing. Therefore, the obvious and sensible option will be to consider the needs of others in order to include them in order to achieve one’s own goals.

5.2 Is Commonism a Truly Inclusive Society?

We have attempted to trace inclusion and to present the importance of designing production* according to the needs of the contributors in a way that includes the needs of the users. We have attempted to show how information about needs penetrates the societal network and how these signs of needs simplify conflict resolution, self-selection, and collective self-organisation. We have also ventured to discuss the form of conflicts that do not have centralised instruments of domination at their disposal and are, thus, unable to enforce exclusive demands and particular interests. These conflicts require the integration of the needs of all those involved due to collective disposal and voluntariness. But is that enough to announce the emergence of inclusive conditions in such a society?

Although we are not 100% sure, we believe that this is the case. We cannot conceptually proclaim that the commonist society must be an inclusive society. However, we have repeatedly pointed out that the inclusive society encourages inclusion and, in turn, inclusion becomes a well-founded form of action for the people. Maybe we are on the wrong track, maybe something is missing; but we do basically hope that our attempt has highlighted the possibility of talking about utopia. At this point our considerations are insufficient and might lack complexity. However, they are the ideas of several dozen people only. Imagine the potential of hundreds, thousands, even millions of people discussing a free society and starting to practice commoning.

5.3 Are There Chief and Secondary Contradictions?

Capitalism’s logic of exclusion appears in many forms. As racism, sexism, homophobia or nationality, it separates people and legitimises domination and exclusion. How about these exclusion structures in commonism? Traditional Marxist criticism of capitalism stressed the power relations between capitalists and workers as a “chief contradiction”. Sexism, racism and so on were subclassified as “secondary contradictions”. The disappearance of class relations would solve them pretty soon. Is such a distinction part of our theory?

The goal of our theory is a different form of society. Not only a changed “economy”, a new form of production, but also different forms of dwelling, thinking, hoping and loving. For us there is no central dimension of exclusion (e.g., ownership of the means of production) which must be changed in order to suspend all the others. The goal of our utopia is to eliminate the conditions that make exclusions functional and effective, no matter what kind they are. We believe that will render the exclusion of people on the basis of their skin colour, sex, ownership of means of production and so on no longer possible of obvious. We aim at the disappearance of the conditions of exclusion altogether and not of a particular dimension of exclusion. However, whether current and traditional forms of exclusion will be effectively overcome is a practical problem of the transformation and utopian organisation. Our intention is to show the conditions that are necessary for this overcoming.

5.4 Another Mystification of Care Work?

Following the German version of the book, feminist criticisms of the book were raised. The philosopher Heide Lutosch argued that the protagonists are often “mature, healthy, articulate, young people who are responsible for themselves and only themselves and can work” (Lutosch 2021). In most societies, only half the population would work, and even of these, many would need care—in addition to those who need support anyway: “I had hoped that these people—sick, physically or cognitively impaired, sad, small, old, dying, dreamy—would move from the shadows to the centre of attention” (ibid.). Lutosch goes on to ask whether we are not once again mystifying care work in our theory. When we respond to a crying child, are “desire and necessity” really “intimately connected”, she asks. Care work is dirty, often at night, exhausting (moving heavy, immovable objects), has no regular breaks, cannot be planned, but requires constant organisation (psychological stress). It contains many repetitive elements and is therefore quite boring, it never really ends and “requires patience despite time pressure and multitasking, because the people for whom it is performed are slow. They eat slowly, they walk slowly, they think slowly” (ibid.).

The criticism is justified. In fact, we have mistakenly inferred pleasure from motivation. We have thus fallen into the trap of even the conventional concept of motivation, which always equates motivation with enjoyment of the activity—something we had previously refuted. In fact, motivation in care work usually coincides less with pleasure than with necessity. This is all the more true in societies where care is largely relegated to families and thus often to women. Feminist utopias should carefully devise procedures for identifying the needs of those who cannot or can hardly articulate themselves, create a clearer awareness of informal hierarchies and prioritise the abolition of sexist violence as part of alternatives to traditional legal structures. They should rationally analyse care work with its affective and non-affective aspects and examine the non-affective aspects for their quantifiability, collectivisation, automation and digitalisation. Finally, they must question or even abolish the traditional bourgeois family and design alternative voluntary care structures that are not based on marriage, friendship or blood relationship (cf. Lutosch 2021).

Another criticism also hits a sore spot. Political scientist Antje Schrupp argues: “For my taste, the image of man behind the bourgeois utopia is still too much shaped by an atomised conception of freedom, in which the free and the equal negotiate with each other on an equal footing and the most important feature of freedom from domination is that no one can be forced to do anything. But isn’t the most important feature of freedom from domination the certainty that no matter what happens to me and no matter how sick or old I get, my needs will be reliably met?” (Schrupp 2018). This criticism hits home because it was actually our concern to show that freedom from domination cannot be achieved without social security for all. Only from a position of secure existence can I speak and disagree with others at eye level. “Care work is explicitly thematised by the authors as a necessity […], but this does not change (or even disguise) the fact that care economy is not really considered in terms of content” (ibid.). This requires the abolition of the separation of production and reproduction—as shown in this book. But as for so many areas (law, relationships etc.), we have not thought through the consequences for the care sector.

5.5 Criticism and Open Questions

There are only a few of us, and that is not enough to explore a free society in detail. We can only take some preliminary steps and invite others to join in. What is fundamental for this path and its further development is criticism; however, it should be a criticism of content based on arguments. We can think of three such forms: firstly, criticism of the underlying theoretical concept (e.g., intersubjectivity). Secondly, a critical examination of the switchover from theoretical basis to utopia (e.g., commoning does not match the claims of transpersonal mediation). Thirdly, criticism of the conceptual unfolding (e.g., our deduction from voluntariness to inclusion). In this way we hope to explore commonism in more detail, for a lot of questions must be answered.

At some point a book cannot be extended and a deadline is reached. However, an abundance of topics remains. The conceptual exploration has only just begun. Numerous topics have been simply outlined or not mentioned at all, for example, commonist institutions and the question of violence, concrete rules instead of general law, love and relatedness. In addition, there are many hints—for example, conflict mediation—which require further investigation. And anti-racist, decolonial and anti-eurocentric critics raise further questions. We write out of our socialisation and with its limitations. It is only a part of a bigger picture. We need other people, other theories and other utopias, because a free society is a collective process of development. Therefore, many thanks to the critics and those who will become critics.

We have dealt with the goal in detail. Now we want to turn to the obvious question: how can the commonist inclusive society emerge from capitalism? How can we conceptualise the path of transformation and open it to discussion?