“All Libertarians Are Scum”? Not So Fast

Recently, I told someone I was a libertarian socialist. Their response? “All libertarians are scum.”

It’s not the first time I’ve heard that sort of reaction. And I get it–libertarian is a poisoned word in the U.S. For most Americans “libertarian” evokes the image of a smug tech bro hoarding Bitcoin, quoting Ayn Rand, and arguing that child labor laws are tyranny. That brand of libertarianism–individualist, capitalist–has dominated the label in the U.S. for decades.

But that’s not what libertarian socialism means.

Libertarian socialism is anti-authoritarian leftist tradition. It’s about dismantling both state and capitalist hierarchies. It stands opposed to top-down government and to concentrated private power. It believes freedom doesn’t mean “I get to exploit people without interference.” It means collective self-determination, mutual aid, and horizontal organization. It’s about organizing society around human needs and not profit.

If you’re familiar with anarchism, council communism, or even some strains of syndicalism, you’ve brushed shoulders with libertarian socialism. It’s the politics of Emma Goldman, Noam Chomsky, and the Zapatistas in Mexico–not Ayn Rand and Elon Musk.

The confusion stems from a linguistic hijacking. In much of the world–especially in Latin America and Europe–libertarian has long been associated with the left. The term was originally used by anarchists to distinguish themselves from authoritarian Marxists such as Stalin and Pol Pot. In fact, in 19th century France, libertaire was often a stand-in for anarchist, especially when anarchism was censored of criminalized.

But in the U.S., thanks for Cold War politics, capitalist rebranding, and a lot of Koch brothers’ money, “libertarian” came to mean something closer to “I think poor people should die faster.” The right-wing libertarians here have tried to claim the whole world, but that doesn’t mean they own it.

So when I say I’m a libertarian socialist, I’m not trying to split the difference between Ron Paul and Bernie Sanders, I’m saying I want a world without billionaires or bureaucrats. I’m saying we need both freedom and equality, not as competing values, but as inseparable ones.

Here’s the core idea:

You’re not free if you spend your life working for someone else just to survive.

You’re not free if your boss can dictate your every move because they control your livelihood.

You’re not free if the government props up corporations while criminalizing poverty.

Libertarian socialism rejects the false choice between “state control” and “corporate control.” We want neither. We want self-control. We want power in the hands of communities, workers, and individuals, not oligarchs and technocrats.

So no, not all libertarians are scum. Some of us are trying to burn down the same systems you are, just from a different angle.

The Conspiracy Against the Human Race

I know I listed my top five favorite books and two books that changed my life, but there’s another one that deserves recognition: Thomas Ligotti’s The Conspiracy Against the Human Race. I’d been wanting this book for a while after seeing the first season of True Detective and after considering myself an anti-natalist. I was looking for any kind of anti-natalist literature and lo and behold, I found it.

This book is a philosophical gut punch that argues human consciousness is a cosmic mistake. Ligotti draws from horror, neuroscience, and pessimism and makes the case that existence is inherently horrific, the self is an illusion, and the kindest act would be to stop reproducing.

It’s a deep but deeply thought-provoking exploration of pessimism, anti-natalism, and the horror of consciousness. A few take aways from it are as follows:

Consciousness is a curse. Ligotti argues that self-awareness–what sets humans apart from animals–is not a gift but a burden. We’re aware of our mortality, our suffering, and the meaninglessness of existence. “Being alive is like being a sentient tumor.”

Life is inherently horrific. He draws from horror fiction and philosophy and suggests that horror is the most honest genre because it doesn’t shy away from the ugly truth: life is terrifying, random, and cruel.

Anti-Natalism is a logical response. He builds on David Bentar (another man I admire)’s arguments to suggest that the kindest thing we could do is stop reproducing. He believes, much like Benatar and I do, that bringing someone into existence is always a harm. As he says in the book, “Nonexistence never hurt anyone.”

The illusion of self and meaning. Ligotti sides with thinkers who believe the self is an illusion and that the narratives we tell ourselves: religion, humanism, even optimism are coping mechanisms, not truth.

The book offers no comfort. There’s no “and yet” at the end. There’s no redemption arc. Ligotti commits to the darkness. The value is in the clarity it offers–cutting through hope to stare directly at what existence may really be.

It’s a cold shower of a book. It won’t give you hope, but it might give you clarity, or at least solidarity in despair.

Official Member of the Democratic Socialists of America

I recently received my membership card from the Democratic Socialists of America. I also donate a few bucks a month to this organization. Now, you may be saying, “But Kafkaphony, you’re a Libertarian Socialist. What’s this about?”

Well, libertarian socialists don’t have a website because they are more decentralized by nature. Libertarian socialists are inherently suspicious of centralized power–even in organizations. So creating a single “official” website or group is contradictory to a lot in the movement. Also, the DSA has membership dues, elected leadership, and is involved in electoral politics. Libertarian socialists reject those kinds of structures, which means they lack the resources to build or maintain polished sites or public campaigns.

So, how can I be a libertarian socialist and donate to the DSA? I like to work within the DSA for strategic reasons. The DSA is a “big tent” and includes: Marxists, social Democrats, Democratic socialists (obviously), libertarian socialists, and even some anarchists and syndicalists.

The DSA is a vehicle, not an identity. It’s a way to build power, influence policy, and meet like-minded people, even if the ultimate goal (like abolishing the state or capitalism entirely) goes beyond what the DSA is currently pushing.

I prefer to use the DSA to push for reforms that improve people’s lives now, even if the long-term goal is revolution or abolition of hierarchies. I use it for organizing opportunities like meeting people who might be down for more radical actions outside of the DSA. It’s also for learning skills, gaining political, experience, and building networks.

There will be disagreements between the two though. The DSA sometimes supports electoral politics, which some libertarian socialists reject. However, it’s the best we’ve got right now. I don’t have to buy into the DSA’s entire platform.

I plan on using the DSA to connect with organizers, practice power building, and to push for transformative demands, but I’m always keeping my eye on the bigger picture: dismantling capitalism, hierarchy, and the state–not just reforming them. I’m looking for shared goals and ways to push the DSA further left by putting theory into action.

Two Books That Changed My Life

I know I posted my top five favorite books, but I thought I’d post the two books that changed my life in impactful ways and discuss them a little. Coincidentally, they’re both from my top five list.

The Stranger by Albert Camus has affirmed my sense of absurdity. Meursault (main character)’s indifference, his refusal to feign emotion for society’s sake resonates with my own misanthropy. His detachment from norms helped me feel less alien in a world that demands people fake performances of meaning and morality. The book’s cold eye on things like funerals, justice, and religion strengthened my distrust in institutions, and it gave me permission to question the systems we’re told to respect–even if they’re hollow.

Camus’ exploration of life’s absurdity–the idea that existence lacks inherent meaning–has sharpened my anti-natalist views that bringing new life into a meaningless, and often cruel world is unethical. Life isn’t a gift. It’s an imposition.

Meursault doesn’t pretend to be anything but himself, even when it might save him. That’s the kind of integrity I aspire to, even if it makes me weird. As far as the ending of the book–Meursault accepting the absurd and facing death without illusions–it mirrors my own attempt to live authentically in a chaotic world.

The Myth of Sisyphus, also by Albert Camus, had an even deeper influence on me than The Stranger. It gave me a way to live with absurdity. Before Camus, absurdity felt like a huge weight, a realization that life has no inherent meaning and that could easily lead to despair and eventually suicide. This book showed me another path: instead of seeking meaning or collapsing under nihilism, I can simply accept life’s absurdity and keep pushing forward.

It also reinforced my rejection of false hope. Camus’ critique of “philosophical suicide”–the way people escape absurdity through religion, ideology, or forced optimism–resonated with me deeply. I refuse to cling to comforting illusions, whether it’s capitalism’s promises or religious dogmas. I used to suppress illusions with drugs and alcohol. Now, I choose to face reality, no matter how bleak.

It has also helped with my political views. Sisyphus’s struggle isn’t just personal, it’s an act of defiance. Pushing the boulder, knowing it will never stay at the top, mirrors my approach to wanting to fight capitalism. I’m aware the system is monstrous, victories are temporary, but I choose to fight anyway, and not because I expect some final triumph, but because the struggle itself is worth it.

And lastly, it aligns with my misanthropy and humor. My messing with people politically and my sense of humor fit within Camus’ absurdist outlook. I want to weaponize absurdity and turn meaninglessness into a playground.

Elon Musk’s Breeding Fetish

I’ve always thought Elon Musk has a creepy breeding fetish. Hey, I’m all for fetishes, let that freak flag fly, but not when it comes to bringing more people into the world. Blow your load into someone all you want as long as she’s on birth control or you’ve had a vasectomy. Aside from that? Wear a condom or don’t have sex at all. Contrary to what Apartheid Clyde says, we don’t need more people on this planet.

His obsession with population growth seems to stem from his belief that declining birth rates in developed countries could lead to a societal and economic collapse. He has repeatedly expressed concern that a “collapse” of civilization could occur if the global birth rates continue to fall. I say let the collapse happen. We as a society, we as civilization have failed miserably. This little homo sapien experiment didn’t work. Destroy all of it and either start over or don’t. I’ll be dead and won’t care one way or the other.

Apartheid Clyde’s neediness for wanting others to breed and his own having fourteen kids doesn’t have to do with anything altruistic for the planet or civilization. There are several problems with his obsession with birth rates:

It ignores environmental limits. The planet is already struggling with overpopulation in terms of resource consumption, pollution, and climate change. Pushing for more births ignores the ecological consequences of an ever-growing human footprint.

His stance also aligns with capitalist concerns about shrinking labor forces and economic stagnation rather than a genuine concern for human flourishing. A declining population could be beneficial in terms of resource distribution, quality of life, and sustainability. Also, if Apartheid Clyde truly believes in AI and automation replacing human labor, then a shrinking workforce shouldn’t be a problem. His push for higher birth rates contradicts his own predictions about technological advances reducing the need for human workers.

It’s also easy for a billionaire with immense resources to advocate for having many children. Most people don’t have the luxury to provide for large families in a world where wages stagnate, housing costs soar, and healthcare remains inaccessible.

There’s also an authoritarian aspect to his desire for population growth. His rhetoric could feed into dangerous population policies, where governments or societies pressure people into having children against their will. Historically, state-driven population growth policies have led to human rights abuses, especially against women.

And what about us that are already here? Why not focus on improving conditions for existing people–healthcare, education, workers’ rights, and wealth redistribution–Apartheid Clyde fixates on increasing birth rates as its quantity is more important than the quality of life.

Civilization isn’t doomed, as he seems to think. The whole “civilization collapse” is a myth. Societies can adapt through better resource management, immigration, and restructuring economic models rather than resorting to a blind push for more births.

Ultimately, Apartheid Clyde’s obsession seems less about genuine human well-being and more about maintaining a system that benefits people like him–billionaires who can rely on endless economic expansion, cheap labor, and a future workforce to exploit.

A List of My Heroes and Influences

Albert Camus

Camus resonates with me because of his embrace of the absurd. The Myth of Sisyphus especially hit home for me–the idea of imagining Sisyphus happy reframed how I see struggle. Instead of falling into despair, Camus argues for rebellion against the meaningless of life but finding joy in the absurd. He grounds his philosophy in a deep concern for justice and dignity. His resistance to both authoritarianism and passive resignation speaks to my own drive to disrupt capitalism and push people toward action.

Bill Hicks

Hicks has a sharp political critique with dark humor and a deep disdain for bullshit. His attacks on consumerism, corporate control, and political hypocrisy align with my own frustrations with capitalism and the absurdity of American politics Hicks didn’t just argue against the system; he ridiculed it in ways that exposed its ridiculousness. His jokes weren’t just shock humor, they were a brutal deconstruction of how capitalism co-opts everything, even rebellion. His no-holds-bar critique of America and the American system hits home for me.

Emil Cioran

Cioran strips existence down to its raw, unfiltered absurdity, much like how I see the world. His work speaks to my anti-natalism, misanthropy, and skepticism of grand ideological solutions. Cioran embraces despair with a poetic, almost darkly comedic flair I long to fight capitalism and push people into action, but I also find it exhausting. Cioran embodies that paradox. He was fully aware that everything is meaningless, yet he was still compelled to write, express, and dissect existence with a razor sharp wit.

Doug Stanhope

He blends brutal honesty, dark humor, and a deep contempt for societal norms. His raw no-bullshit take on life, politics, and human stupidity aligns with my own misanthropy, especially his disdain for blind patriotism, capitalism, and pro-natalism He doesn’t care about being a hero or inspiring people, he just calls out the bullshit for what it is.

Che Guevara

He wasn’t just a theorist, he was a man of action. He saw capitalism and imperialism as global enemies that needed to be dismantled everywhere. That kind of commitment resonates with my own view that capitalism just isn’t a local problem, but a systemic one that requires radical disruption. His image represents defiance, struggle, and an unrelenting pursuit of justice.

Malcolm X

Malcolm X wasn’t interested in playing nice with the system or begging for incremental change. He wanted radical transformation just like with my own frustration with passive leftism and half-measures. His ability to evolve is also great. He started as a staunch Black nationalist but later expanded his vision to a broader fight against oppression worldwide.

Arthur Schopenhauer

His view that the “will to live” traps people in a cycle of pointless striving aligns with my belief that bringing new life into the world is ethically indefensible. Unlike other philosophers who try to find meaning in suffering; Schopenhauer just lays it bare: existence is a cruel joke, and the best we can do is minimize suffering. His radical honesty about the bleakness of life, combined with his sharp wit and refusal to engage in false hope makes him a natural fit for my worldview.

Thomas Ligotti

His work embodies a philosophical commitment to cosmic horror and existential dread that mirrors my own views on the futility of existence. Ligotti sees the world as fundamentally indifferent, even hostile to human life. His vision of reality as an empty, uncaring place aligns with my own anti-natalist and absurdist leanings. His writing acknowledges the darkness I find both intellectually and existentially compellling.

Stephen King

This may comes as a shock to you, but Stephen King is a hero of mine because he’s the one who got me to love reading. I started with his books then branched out into others on government, philosophy, other people’s beliefs, etc. His deep cynicism about small-town America and institutions speak to my own skepticism toward power and the status quo. And honestly? He’s just fun to read. His mix of horror, dark humor, and no-nonsense storytelling makes him one of the few mainstream writers who doesn’t feel watered-down, which is something I respect.

Noam Chomsky

Noam Chomsky is a relentless critic of capitalism and U.S. imperialism and he backs up his arguments with deep historical and political analysis. He doesn’t just complain, he provides historical context, logical arguments, and a roadmap for action. His work exposes how power operates from corporate media manipulation to government-backed atrocities. His views align with my own desire to challenge capitalism and push for real change.

Peter Kropotkin

Peter Kropotkin showed me that cooperation — not competition — is what can keep society alive, and that real power comes from the bottom up, not the top down. He helped me unlearn the propaganda of capitalism and see that solidarity is not naive — it’s revolutionary.

How a Libertarian Socialist Society Would Work

I’ve already stated my political leanings and they are very far to the left. We’re seeing what the far right can do to a society and it’s horrible. We’re seeing it now. Some people saw it in Nazi Germany. The far right is dangerous and should be destroyed. Capitalism itself should be destroyed.

So, what would a libertarian socialist society look like? I’ve been reading more and more about my political leanings and coming up with how the United States would look under libertarian socialism and here’s what I’ve come up with:

First and foremost, it would prioritize decentralization, have direct democracy, and collective ownership while abolishing capitalist wage labor and hierarchical state power. It would be built on cooperation, bottom-up structures that allow the people, not managers or CEOs to manage their workplaces and communities without coercion from a centralized authority.

How it would affect the economy and community

There would be no private ownership of production. That means factories, farms, and businesses would be collectively owned and managed by workers and communities. Instead of bosses, workers would directly organize production through democratic assemblies and councils. Goods and services would be distributed based on need, contribution, or through participation rather than profit-driven markets. All economic decisions would be made through federated councils of workers and consumers rather than dictated by a federal government or market forces.

How it would affect politics

Instead of a government ruling over people, power would be held in local, self-managed assemblies where absolutely everyone has a say in decisions affect them and their lives. Local communities would coordinate with each other ensuring cooperation without a top-down hierarchy. There would be no politicians. We’re all sick of them anyway, right? Instead, think about it: communities and workplaces would elect temporary, recallable delegates with strict limited power.

Free Association and Mutual Aid

People would contribute to society based on their ability and receive according to their need. For those of us, like me, who are disabled, no one would be forced to work to survive. People would contribute according to their abilities, and those unable to work would still be valued as full members of the society.

Land, housing, and natural resources would be collectively maintained and distributed according to democratic principles. People would form communities and organizations based on voluntary cooperation rather than state enforcement.

Now, some of you may be wondering how justice might work. Will there still be police and prisons? I think we can all agree that for-profit prisons have to go. Prisons will be meant for rehabilitation. That is what the society would look like: conflict resolution, justice focusing on rehabilitation, community accountability, and non-punitive solutions.

Work and Leisure

With production driven by human needs instead of profit, people would work fewer hours and have more time for leisure, education, and creativity. Who wouldn’t want a society like that? There would also be lifelong learning. Decision-making would be central to civic life.

Technological advances would be used to reduce labor, improve well-being, and enhance sustainability.

Healthcare

Healthcare would be free and universally accessible, including specialized care for the disabled, including mental health services. Caregiving would be shared responsibility rather than an individual burden, ensuring that people who need support receive it without being financially or socially isolated.

Leadership

Now, you’re probably wonder who would run such a society. Where there be a president? A leader? A kind? What kind of leadership would there be? If there were a leadership role in a libertarian socialist society, it would be more of a coordinator or spokesperson chosen by democratic means, with limited power and subject to recall at any time. Governance would be more about collective decision-making through councils, federations, or assemblies rather than a single executive figure.

Utopia

Would a libertarian socialist society be a utopia? No. There’s no such thing as a utopia. People aren’t perfect and conflicts will arise. The democratic structures would allow for ongoing problem-solving and adaptation without authoritarian control.

If I’m being honest, it would be messy and experimental at first, with different regions trying different forms of organization. The core principles would remain though: maximizing freedom and equality by ensuring that power is always distributed among the people rather than concentrated in a ruling class.

If you’ve read this far, I thank you. These are just my ideas of what a libertarian socialist society would look like based on my reading of the system and researching it and reading a shit load of Noam Chomsky and Peter Kropotkin. I haven’t read much by Mikhail Bakunin, but he’s on my list and I’m curious about his ideas of what a society should be.

So, what do you think? Would you live in this type of society? I for one am tired of capitalism and would jump at the chance to try something new.

Explaining Libertarian Socialism to a Child

Libertarian socialism is the belief that people should be free from both government control and corporate power. It’s about creating a society where workers and communities make decisions together, rather than being ruled by politicians or bosses.

Imagine a workplace where everyone has a say in how things are run instead of a CEO calling all the shots. Or a neighborhood where people work together to solve problems instead of waiting for the government to step in. Libertarian socialists want a world built on cooperation, fairness, and shared resources without the need for big government or a ruling class.

It’s “socialist” because it opposes capitalism and wealth hoarding , and it’s “libertarian” because it values personal freedom and opposes authoritarian control

It’s about people sharing and making decisions together, instead of having a big boss or a big government telling them what to do.

Imagine if your toys belonged to everyone, and you and your friends decided together how to play with them. Nobody gets to take all the toys for themselves, and nobody gets to be the only boss. Everyone helps, everyone shares, and everyone is free to do what makes them happy without someone being unfairly in charge.

For liberals:

Libertarian socialism is like taking democracy and applying it everywhere, including the workplace. You already believe in democracy for government. But in capitalism, businesses are run like little dictatorships, where the boss has all the power. Libertarian socialism means workers and communities having a say in the decisions that affect them, so workplaces are democratic, wealth is shared more fairly and corporate power doesn’t run everything. It’s about freedom, but also fairness. You get to keep your personal rights, but without billionaires hoarding all the resources and rigging the system.

For conservatives

Libertarian socialism is about real freedom, freedom from both government overreach and corporate control. Right now, big businesses control the economy, and the government props them up while crushing small businesses and workers instead of relying on government handouts or corporate bosses, libertarian socialism means people working together directly to run things, like worker-owned businesses and community-driven solutions. It’s about keeping power in the hands of everyday people instead of elites, whether they’re in Washington or Wall Street.

Why I Became a Socialist

I was raised in a Republican family. For the longest time, that’s just what I thought I was supposed to be because that’s what my family was. I supported George W. Bush up until he invaded Iraq. I was all about “rah! rah! guns for everybody!” in my youth. While I still own guns, I think there need to be stricter laws, closed loopholes, and no, not everyone needs to have a fucking gun. “But the Second Amendment!” Yeah, yeah, yeah. Look up the definition of “amendment” and get back to me.

As a teen I was obsessed with Ayn Rand. Maybe it was just me being an edgy teenager, but I was all “Yeah! Every man for himself! To hell with everyone else!” I’ve grown and matured and after re-reading Atlas Shrugged eight years ago. I learned that her philosophy is self-serving and does no one any good. Not to mention, she turned toward government help later on in her life so what a hypocrite. It’s funny. Every time capitalism spirals into crisis, socialist-inspired policies step in to save it. The same people who attack socialism are often the first to demand government help when capitalism crashes. If capitalism actually followed its own “sink or swim” logic, it wouldn’t have survived this long.

To be honest, I didn’t care much for politics until the rise of Donald Trump. His presidency made me more engaged. His corruption, authoritarianism, and the broader failures of the system reinforced my belief that capitalism and electoral policies alone won’t fix anything. I used to think no matter what party the President aligns himself with, they have the good of the country at heart deep down. After both of Trump’s wins, I no longer believe that. Just like Ayn Rand, Trump is self-serving and in it for Trump and his brand.

I’ve always considered myself a misanthrope. Hell, I even have the word “misanthrope” tattooed on my arm. I don’t want to go so far as to say I hate other people, but I am deeply distrustful of them and the systems they create. No one wants to help others anymore. It’s all “me, me, me!” With socialism, it’s about helping your fellow man. Not everyone is in it for themselves when it comes to socialism. It’s a collective effort to make the world a better place than we found it. Capitalism is nothing but “how can I get richer?” and “I want to get ahead no matter how many people I have to trample underfoot to do so.”

I’ve also been doing more reading and research. People like Albert Camus, Emil Cioran, and Noam Chomsky are people I hold in high regard. Camus’ idea of the absurd is about the conflict between human desire for meaning and a meaningless universe. Capitalism mirrors this: it promises purpose through work, consumption, and success, but ultimately, it’s an empty grind. The absurdity of capitalism is that it demands people dedicate their lives to meaningless labor while pretending it’s freedom. Camus believed in revolt — not in the sense of violent revolution (although at this point, I support that), but in refusing to submit to oppressive structures. When this is applied to capitalism, it means rejecting the illusion that the system is natural or inevitable. Instead, we can challenge it, disrupt it, and refuse to play by its rules.

Noam Chomsky is a relentless critic of capitalism. He argues that real democracy is impossible under capitalism because corporations and the wealthy control political decisions. Elections are a spectacle. Real power is concentrated in unelected institutions such as corporations, lobbyists, and banks. He teaches us to organize outside of electoral politics. Build movements that can apply pressure beyond just voting.

And what could I possibly learn from Mr. “Everything Sucks” Emil Cioran? Cioran believed that humans cling to illusions: progress, meaning, and success to avoid confronting the void. Capitalism sells the biggest illusion: that endless work and consumption lead to fulfillment. In reality, it’s a treadmill of disappointment. No matter how much you achieve or accumulate, it’s never enough. What I get from Cioran is that exposing capitalism means stripping away its illusions and showing people that its promises are hollow.

I’ve become frustrated with online complaining and simply waiting for the next election cycle to make changes. I want direct political disruption. Protests don’t work like they used to so I want new, fresh ideas to challenge capitalism. Ultimately, I’ve become frustrated with the whole capitalist system whether it’s healthcare, economic inequality, or corporate control. I see capitalism as unsustainable and in need of radical change.

Trumpism has taken over and even the Democrats are too chicken shit to do anything about it. Trump is just a belligerent old man who, if he could, rule the world if given enough power. I’m tired of power being in the hands of the wealthy. I want the common people to rise up and fight this oppressive system, and there are more of us than there are of them so what the hell are we waiting for?

Or maybe I became a socialist just because I listened to way too much Rage Against the Machine. Who knows?

Why I’m a Libertarian Socialist

I didn’t vote in 2016 because I didn’t like Clinton or Trump. I voted third party in 2020 because I thought Biden and Trump were both too old. I voted for Harris in 2024 because I thought anyone, even a Democrat would be better than Trump. Voting Democrat does not make me a Democrat, though. I’ve always fallen into what is known as Libertarian Socialism (think more Noam Chomsky and Guy Debord.)

Libertarian Socialism is a political philosophy that combines socialist economics with a strong emphasis on individual freedom, direct democracy, and decentralized power. It oppose both state control as seen in authoritarian socialism and capitalist exploitation, advocating for worker self-management, cooperative ownership of resources, and voluntary associations.

I believe true freedom is impossible under capitalism, as economic coercion forces people into exploitative relationships. I’d like to see a society based on voluntary cooperation. I’m looking for ways to disrupt capitalism and push for socialist alternatives. I’m extremely skeptical of relying solely on electoral politics and traditional protests. I’d like for more immediate tactics.

I don’t trust the powers that be in a capitalist society. Capitalism is an inherently exploitative system that prioritizes profit over people. Capitalism concentrates power in the hands of the few at the expense of the many. Capitalism traps people in powerlessness rather than enabling real change; it also exacerbates human selfishness and destruction. It’s a system that rewards the absolute worst people like Trump, Apartheid Clyde, Zuckerberg, and Bezos while crushing everyone else.

The end goal of libertarian socialism is to create a society where economic and political power is decentralized, capitalism is abolished, and people have direct control over their workplace and communities. It seeks to replace hierarchal systems — whether capitalist or authoritarian socialist — with cooperative, voluntary, and democratic structures.

Essentially, libertarian socialism sees a world where power is in the hands of the people, not corporations or the state, and where cooperation replaces exploitation.

I am more than willing to work with Democratic Socialists, which I have started to do by contacting a local Democratic Socialist representative in the government here. I am also willing to work with traditional socialists as well as communists. I want to do what I can to bring down capitalism where the rich get richer and the poor get poorer. If there are any other socialists or Marxists out there willing to help me in this fight, please reach out. My email is kafkaphony@gmail.com. I realize by having a gmail account it’s just giving capitalists more power, but it’s a necessary evil at the moment.