Please recall Steve Sailer’s favorite analogy for citizenship, the interests of shareholders:
By “citizenism,” I mean that I believe Americans should be biased in favor of the welfare of our current fellow citizens over that of the six billion foreigners.
Let me describe citizenism using a business analogy. When I was getting an MBA many years ago, I was the favorite of an acerbic old Corporate Finance professor because I could be counted on to blurt out in class all the stupid misconceptions to which students are prone.
One day he asked: “If you were running a publicly traded company, would it be acceptable for you to create new stock and sell it for less than it was worth?”
“Sure,” I confidently announced. “Our duty is to maximize our stockholders’ wealth, and while selling the stock for less than its worth would harm our current shareholders, it would benefit our new shareholders who buy the underpriced stock, so it all comes out in the wash. Right?”
“Wrong!” He thundered. “Your obligation is to your current stockholders, not to somebody who might buy the stock in the future.”
That same logic applies to the valuable right of being an American citizen and living in America.
If your first instinct is to argue against civic nationalism, you may want to click through and read the apologetics first.
The “nation state” has two important parts, nation and state, with nation being the modifier and state being the substance (although static mores make for a very platonic sort of substance). By report of 4GW theorists, the nation state is in crisis due to the accessibility of massive peer-to-peer information technology to the “shareholders”, so that information warfare is no longer monopolized by the culture warriors of the 1960s and their spiritual progeny (think “defense distributed”). But in the meantime, the state is quite intent on its own survival by replacing its shareholders with low-effort voters and shutting down the internet. (No white population can out-normie the Hispanics, no matter how much Game of Thrones they watch.)
With that conflict between state actors (aka “executives”) and civil shareholders in mind, here’s an interesting connection by the modern Tocquesville, philosopher James Burnham:
This development is a decisive phase of the managerial revolution. The so-called “separation of ownership and control,” paralleling the growth of the great public corporations of modern times, has, of course, been a widely recognized phenomenon. A decade ago it was the principal subject of the widely read book, The Modern Corporation and Private Property, by Berle and Means. In this book, the authors showed that the economy of the United States was dominated by the two hundred largest nonbanking corporations (they did not discuss the relations of these to financial houses); and, second, that the majority of these corporations were no longer, in practice, controlled by their nominal legal owners (that is, stockholders holding in their names a majority of the shares of stock).
They divided these corporations according to “types of control.” In a few, control was exercised by a single individual (more often, single family) who was legal owner of all or a majority of the stock; in others, by individuals or groups which owned not a majority but a substantial percentage of the stock. Most, however (in 1929, 65% of these 200 corporations with 80% of the total assets), they decided were what they called, significantly enough, “management-controlled:” By “managementcontrolled,” as they explained, they meant that the management (executives) of these companies, though owning only minor percentages of the shares of their corporations, were in actuality selfperpetuating, in control of the policies and the boards of directors of the companies and able to manipulate at will, through proxies, majority votes of the nominal owners, the shareholders. The American Telephone and Telegraph Corporation is the classic example of “management-control.” Though briefly, Berle and Means also took up the extremely important point that in the nature of the case there were sources of frequent conflict between the interests of the “control group” (most often, the management) and the legal owners. This is apparent enough to anyone who recalls the economic events of the past generation. Many books have been written about the difficulties of the run-of-the-mine common stockholders, often as a result of the policies of the “control group” of “their own” company. Wealth, power, and even other possible interests (such as maximum industrial efficiency) of the control group quite naturally do not often coincide with maximum dividends and security for the common stockholders.
The Managerial Revolution
In my opinion, the actual managerial class fits Burnham’s theoretical definition less well than my archetypal description of alchemists in Overwatch Theory.