Anarchism vs. Autarchism: When freedom means different things

What happens when you strip away the state? This is the provocative question that anarchism and autarchism tackle from radically different angles. Both philosophies reject centralized authority, yet they offer strikingly different blueprints for a society without it.

Anarchism: Building a world together

The name itself, from the Greek an (without) and arkhos (ruler), points to a world free from domination. Anarchism imagines a society based on voluntary cooperation, mutual aid, and equality, where power flows horizontally rather than from the top down.

Thinkers like Piotr Kropotkin and Emma Goldman believed that humans are naturally cooperative, and they argued that hierarchy and coercion crush this instinct. For them, the state and capitalism oppress and distort the very way people relate to one another. Kropotkin went as far as to draw on evolutionary biology, insisting that cooperation, not competition, is the key to human survival.

In an anarchist society, decisions would emerge through various forms of voluntary organization. Communities might use direct democracy, consensus, or other non-hierarchical methods of coordination. Economic arrangements would vary – while some anarchists advocate for complete communal ownership, others like mutualists (following Proudhon) support forms of individual possession while opposing capitalist property relations.

The practical organization of anarchist society would manifest through syndicates and communes as basic social units, joined by federations that coordinate rather than command. Economic systems would focus on meeting needs rather than generating profit, while education would embrace mutual learning and skill-sharing approaches. The core aim remains consistent: to eliminate not just the state, but all forms of involuntary hierarchy and domination.

Autarchism: The sovereign individual

Autarchism takes the idea of rejecting the state in a very different direction. From the Greek autos (self) and arkhos (rule), it champions absolute individual sovereignty, placing the power to rule firmly in the hands of the individual. If anarchism is about working together, autarchism is about standing alone, free to chart your own course.

During the Cold War, autarchism found fertile ground in a West wary of anything that smelled like collectivism. One of its most colorful champions is Robert LeFevre. He advocated for radical self-rule. For LeFevre and other autarchists, the state is unnecessary, but so is collective decision-making. In their vision, freedom thrives in a world of voluntary exchanges and private property, with contracts replacing governments as the glue holding society together.

Autarchists see voluntary contracts, not collective decisions, as the legitimate basis for all social arrangements. Each person becomes their own sovereign entity, choosing which agreements to enter and which to reject. Property rights extend from self-ownership – you own yourself, therefore you own the fruits of your labor.

Security and dispute resolution would be handled through private agencies chosen by individuals, not imposed by collective authority. Education would be purely voluntary, with parents and children selecting from competing providers. Even roads and infrastructure would emerge through voluntary cooperation between property owners.

Where anarchists seek to eliminate private property along with the state, autarchists see private property as essential to freedom. For them, true liberty means the right to be left alone, to opt out of collective arrangements, and to defend one's autonomy through contractual arrangements with others who share this vision.

The Great Divide

At the center of the divide between anarchism and autarchism is a fundamental disagreement about how freedom works. Anarchism views liberation as something collective—a rising tide that lifts all boats. It insists that true freedom can’t exist in a world riddled with hierarchies, whether political or economic. For autarchists, however, freedom begins and ends with the individual. They see collective decision-making not as liberating, but as another form of coercion.

This philosophical rift is nowhere more apparent than in their views on property. Anarchists reject private property (distinct from personal belongings), arguing that it creates inequality and exploitation. In its place, they propose shared ownership or democratic economic systems. Autarchists, on the other hand, see private property as the bedrock of individual freedom, a necessary extension of personal sovereignty.

Two philosophies, one absurd conclusion

Anarchism and autarchism promise a grand escape from the burden of centralized authority. What’s remarkable, however, is how each sets out to cure the sickness of the state only to prescribe remedies so fantastical that one wonders if the disease might, after all, be preferable.

Anarchism dreams of a society with no rulers, no bosses, and no coercion—only the pure harmony of mutual aid and voluntary cooperation. This is a vision so compelling, so delightfully humane, that it would be beautiful if only it had any relation to reality. The anarchist’s belief in human nature borders on the romantic: humans, they claim, are naturally inclined to cooperate and share, if only the state and capitalism didn’t twist our better instincts into greed and domination.

This is a lovely thought. Yet history, with its squabbles, betrayals, and mob uprisings, suggests otherwise. The anarchist’s world without rulers, where decisions are made by consensus and resources are shared equitably, may function among saints, but among humans, it is doomed to collapse under the weight of our own conflicting ambitions.

On the other side, autarchism stands defiantly alone. Here we find the individualist, fuming over the mere suggestion of collective responsibility. For the autarchist, freedom is found not in working together but in standing apart, each person a fortress unto themselves.

It is a philosophy of breathtaking confidence in the self—and equally breathtaking blindness to the realities of human interdependence. Autarchism imagines a world where every individual governs themselves flawlessly, where disputes are settled without coercion, and where markets magically allocate resources to everyone’s satisfaction. It’s a fine vision, provided one ignores human greed, inequality, and the ever-present tendency of the powerful to manipulate even “voluntary” systems to their advantage.

If anarchism and autarchism were the only alternatives to the state, then one might be forgiven for developing a sudden affection for bureaucracy and tax codes. The state may be flawed—indeed, deeply flawed—but at least it has the virtue of existing. Anarchism and autarchism are little more than castles built in the clouds, impressive to look at but impossible to live in.