Open Society

Uniform adjustments: hard collars, ties, leather school shoes, formal skirts and trousers, these can all be difficult to manage for many autistic people. The use of more comfortable fabrics can allow us to concentrate more fully on our tasks. Many schools now encourage children to attend school with trainers and a school hoodie for comfort and practicality.

The data outputted by medical measurement loops back into itself as input, reinforcing a clinical consensus from which nothing follows.

Autism constitutes “a whole mode of being” and “touches on the deepest questions of ontology,” the neurologist Oliver Sacks wrote. The arrow of Sacks’s insight, earned by his rapport with patients outside of the exam room, bounces off the castles where the scientists of human development toil on schematics. Entrenched, they erect distinctions between facts and values, adopt postures of detachment and carve the gestalt into a set of discrete, interlocking functions. Sacks envisioned for persons like Misha a science of “radical ontology” that jettisons the etiolated metaphysics of the concept. Rather than itemizing deficits in function, radical ontology plumbs modes of being, honors the novel entities from which concrete realities are constructed, building and preserving identity. The richness and tenacity of human perception, Sacks contended, bear no necessary relationship to propositional thinking—or any other “intellectual differences.” In his patients he witnessed a testimony synonymous with poetry. To show how life reaches past science, he turned to the genre of the “strange tale,” distinguished by “a quality of the fabulous.”

Misha, so understood, stands not behind his developmental norms but apart from them.

How I relish the moments when I muster the wit and imagination to cross the threshold into his phenomenal reality, being instead of knowing.

His eloquence is magnificent.

So, in honor of the Beluga Skysail’s maiden voyage, I’m going to suggest a new literary genre: solarpunk. I think the best way to explain solarpunk is by contrasting it to the science fiction and fantasy genre called steampunk, from which the idea of solarpunk derives. Steampunk stories describe alternative futures or worlds in which steam technology (and Victorian technologies in general) were not pushed aside by oil-based technologies. For example, in many steampunk stories, mechanical devices have not been replaced by electrical ones, since without oil the world never developed the capacity to generate the massive amounts of electricity that we take for granted. Given that premise, a lot of the fun of steampunk comes from technological conflations between the modern era and the Victorian era, like computers that are not based on electronics but on continued development of Charles Babbage’s mechanical Difference Engine. More fun comes from injecting modern, cynical attitudes towards government, capitalism, and traditional morality into neo-Victorian worlds that still, superficially, respect all of those institutions, along with the Crown and the importance of good-breeding. Solarpunk also conflates modern technology with older technology, but with a vital difference. In the case of steampunk, the focus on Victorian technology serves as a guideline for imagining an alternative world. In the case of solarpunk, the interest in older technologies is driven by modern world economics: if oil isn’t a cheap source of energy anymore, then we sometimes do best to revive older technologies that are based on other sources of energy, such as solar power and wind power. That is why the Beluga Skysail is the official, honorary cargo ship of solarpunk. Obviously, a major difference between solarpunk and steampunk is that solarpunk ideas, and solarpunk technologies, need not remain imaginary, and I indulge a hope of someday living in a solarpunk world. Another similarity between the genres is a cynical, film noir, sense of politics. I find it very unlikely that a transition to renewable energy can be accomplished without serious political fights between the good citizens of the world and corrupt forces attempting to advance their own personal gain. The current political efforts to subsidize the production of ethanol as an alternative to fossil fuels is only one example of the corruption that will need to be overcome.

Bookchin describes usufruct as “the freedom of individuals in a community to appropriate resources merely by the fact that they are using them. Such resources belong to the user as long as they are being used. Function, in effect, replaces our hallowed concept of possession”).[4] This is subtly distinct from the Library Socialism version – Bookchin is talking about pre-capitalist societies where usufruct is a default social relation, while Library Socialism is looking forwards to a post-capitalist society, where usufruct is an organising principle. So we might imagine that in a Library Socialist society, people would not necessarily be welcome to use other people's property (whether that is something permanently owned, like furniture you've made, or something on long-term loan from a library, like a car) but they would necessarily be welcome to use items held in common at a library.

Finally, complementarity is “a way of seeing non-hierarchical difference as something generative” (Srsly Wrong ep 200).

It is the contention of Library Socialism that libraries are the perfect locus for complementarity. They are definitionally accessible to everyone, and the non-financial relationship between the staff and the library users means that the librarians aren't incentivised to deny people access (unlike shops, where the staff are incentivised to deny access to goods until customers pay). Instead, they are incentivised to make the library as useful and beneficial as possible, which they do by curating complementarity.

If we take the irreducible minimum to a logical conclusion in the context of Library Socialism, we reach conclusions such as: libraries should include kitchens, counselling services, doctors, and have close connections with housing services or homeless shelters. These are ways of providing the irreducible minimum to those without food, shelter, medical care, and so on.  It's worth noting that none of these concepts are difficult to imagine: again, one of the most valuable things about Library Socialism is that it involves expanding and centring an existing social relation, which makes it both more accessible conceptually but also pragmatically; and it is well-documented that libraries and librarians are extremely valuable in providing people with this irreducible minimum.