Yet many people don't talk about disadvantages. Anonymity and privacy often increase personal security. And open governance often means that the visible parts are justifiable, but that does not mean they are good. Forced transparency in corporate structures, like publishing ultimate beneficiary owners means that privacy is more expensive.

Yet there is a reason for voting privacy in democracies, which we should think about in other governance structures, down to a level of companies. Anonymity removes status and politics. Building in private can help keep the edge. Not being open to outgroup allow parallel societies such as dark forests to function.

A free society is often perceived as powered by profit incentives. Yet, value transcends mere currency. Sometimes, the true reward lies in satisfying a deep, personal urge, regardless of a cash-negative outcome.

There are those who adorn public spaces or craft art without a hint of acclaim or financial gain. Even anonymous creators, stripped of societal recognition, continue their artistic endeavors. This isn't about external rewards; it's about the innate human compulsion to create, to enhance, to contribute something meaningful to the world, irrespective of monetary benefit.

However, the market is not a battleground. The old mindset of vanquishing rivals is obsolete. It's not about defeating them, but about excelling beyond them.

Our competitors, those tackling the problems we yearn to solve, are not adversaries but potential allies. We share similar objectives. The strategy lies in carving out unique niches, optimizing service to customers. Collaboration, leveraging each other's strengths, can lead to superior offerings. Alternatively, delving deeper into specific niches, perhaps in partnership with other companies, can make us (and our newly found target market!) invisible to competitors.

Learning from competitors doesn't mean imitation. It's about understanding their unique selling points and refining our own offerings to address those needs more effectively. The focus shouldn't be on generic features or mere pricing wars, unless your production costs allow for a significant price advantage. Instead, aim to enhance the core value proposition, elevating your product in the very dimensions your competitors already highlight.

At a glance, such roles may seem redundant in the dark forest. Yet, as we navigate beyond hierarchical structures, craving greater specialization, the demand for these 'headhunters' surges. Our micro-enterprises, honed in on their core competencies, increasingly require others for complementary tasks. And these individuals, in turn, serve a wider customer base.

The traditional corporate-employee dynamic simplifies connections, unlike the intricate web of many-to-many, peer-to-peer relationships in our realm. Instead of a monolithic marketing department, you'd collaborate with diverse specialists, each serving a plethora of clients.

In this landscape, 'headhunters' or rather 'connectors,' become invaluable. They are the vital links in a network where specialization and collaboration intertwine, where every individual enterprise thrives through symbiotic partnerships.

This is the perspective we must adopt towards governments: distant entities, unlikely to tread into our dark forest, their impact merely peripheral.

In our dark forest, self-preservation is key, risk management paramount. Yet the true quest is a cleansing of the mind.

Our focus should be on creation, production, community, betterment of ourselves. Shun the trivial battles, the political charades, the electoral spectacles. Prepare to sever ties with the old world's time-wasting rituals such as political debates and elections, to leave its antiquated ways in the bronze age. In the dark forest, we forge our own path, untethered and free.

Yet, this very risk reduction often dilutes personal investment - the skin in the game - leading to a scattered focus. Moreover, corralling diverse visions under one roof inevitably brews disagreements and drama.

But for most endeavors, such labyrinthine structures are unnecessary. Just as a barista effortlessly brews your coffee, so can you access or provide a myriad of services - from dispute resolution to security, commercial real estate to insurance.

Lunarpunk offers a better way: a network of independent contractors, each a specialist in their own field. Risk mitigation can happen through hedging or crowdfunding, outcome-linked financing, all while respecting individual contracts and diverse needs.

The creation of superfluous structures, voting systems, committees, and boards often drains more energy than it generates value. Be your own boss, build your own network, and leverage the market for all its worth.

The mantra is simple: Be yourself, forge your path. Contract with others when needed. Let the specialised market providers handle things you are not good at, such as risk dispersion and fund pooling.

**In the dark forest, you don't need a chain of command, voting, and endless discussions. Break the pyramid, grow horizontally through the forest - like mycelium.
**

Mocking influencers is easy, yet they've carved a niche, connecting their audience with entrepreneurs, curating content that resonates. The beachgoer in stylish sunglasses, the hipster coffee connoisseur meticulously brewing, the fitness guru, the tech vlogger – each finds their tribe, bridging viewers with brands.

Gone are the days of traditional ad-spending on TV, magazines, and radios. Goodbye pay per click corporate networks. Now, businesses ally with influencers who mirror their customers' tastes and interests.

Even in the dark forest, influencers thrive, albeit in altered forms. Anonymous or pseudonymous, favoring written word over videos, they remain pivotal for certain products and services. Their endorsements, subtle yet powerful, draw customers in this new, enigmatic marketplace.

We're rekindling this parallel universe. The mainstream, a tableau of monotony, offers no solace. It's a battleground of opinions devoid of tangible outcomes, a withdrawal from reality into a narrative orchestrated by the elite. Every tweet, every Instagram reel, contributes to this grand narrative, an immersive thriller that ensnares like a Hitchcock or Lynch masterpiece, or perhaps the 'wokest' of narratives from Netflix, equally scary.

Yet, this parallel world we're molding is not just an escape; oddly, it guides us back to reality. We're forging this alternate society, one encrypted message, one zap, and one “note” at a time.

Can you sense this world's fragrance when you fire up Terminal, engage with your favored Nostr client, access your Lightning wallet, or open your preferred encrypted messenger? At that moment, you transcend mere participation in the revolution; you become the revolution. Inhale deeply - this is the aroma of digital autonomy, the scent of a newfound freedom, sanity and reality.

The traditional office, with its physical limitations and expenses, is becoming obsolete in this context. Embracing remote work doesn't just save on rent or the cost of hipster beanbags; it opens the doors to a richer, more diverse talent pool.

The most seamless access to this global talent often occurs in the dark forest, particularly in the virtual space. Immigration policies vary, but in many places, the physical journey across borders – trekking through nature, crossing rivers – remains the most straightforward path, albeit fraught with challenges and devoid of the comforts of legal procedures.

Countries like the United Arab Emirates, with Dubai as a prime example, have thrived by leveraging easy immigration policies. There, immigration is linked to employment, not social benefits, streamlining access to both skilled and unskilled labor without the usual regulatory tangles.

In the dark forest, traditional employment and social security constructs are absent. This space is a true meritocracy: arrive, contribute meaningfully, and earn your keep. However, the challenge arises when the dark forests has a physical form within territories governed by states less receptive to external talent. Some dark forests transcend physical borders, existing entirely in the digital realm, unfettered by territorial policies, epitomising the ideal of unbounded access to global talent and opportunity.

This parasitic analogy extends to our relationship with the state. We, the hosts, are drained through various means: direct taxes on profits, consumption, and capital gains, and indirect taxes like inflation. Inflation subtly erodes the value of earnings, yet these devalued gains are still taxed. Even when we merely maintain our purchasing power, the state perceives and taxes it as profit.

But the tale deepens. Regulations layer additional costs across supply chains, inflating prices. Environmental mandates, labor laws, compliance requirements – they all carve out significant portions of created value, often with little visible benefit in return.

Let's crystallize this reality: a staggering 80%, perhaps even 95%, of product and service costs are consumed by these parasitic forces. The host – our economy and society – is left just viable enough to continue its function.

Yet, herein lies an opportunity for the dark forest. Freed from the burdens of these costs, even despite lack of sophisticated long supply chains, economies of scale and specialization down the line, products and services can be crafted more affordably and with superior quality within this second realm. The dark forest isn't just a sanctuary from mainstream constraints; it's a fertile ground for outcompeting the established order and nurturing its own intricate supply networks.

And what to do with the parasite? Let's put it in a museum.

But in the dark forest, we can make use of a new superpower - home 3D printing. Inspired by replicator machines from various sci-fi stories, these devices allow us to make many things right on our desks, in a way that is similar to how 2D printers spill out documents and photos.

Home or local 3D printing might not be optimal. Per unit cost of thousands of widget coming from plastic factory is often lower than 3D printing. 3D printing is a bit more resilient to supply chain shocks. An instruction from printing is data (and thus censorship resistant).

3D printing is conversion of bits to atoms. Have at least one provider of 3D printing services in the dark forest near you.

Picture this: a writer, an editor, a graphic designer, each a solitary wanderer in this forest, their paths intertwining through the ether of the internet. Collaborative document editing becomes their shared canvas, Signal or other encrypted communication system their common ground. They are phantoms to each other, their presence known only by the traces left in the digital – a corrected typo, a graphic design, a fleeting message. Their meetings are not necessities but celebrations, rare gatherings not for coordination but for communion.

This evolution extends beyond mere convenience. It signals a shift in the very fabric of how we work and collaborate. The traditional overseer, the boss pacing corridors, ensuring punctuality and productivity, is now an anachronism, a relic of a bygone era. In this new world, coordination and transaction costs plummet, facilitated by the plethora of apps and the burgeoning sharing economy.

Yet, this transformation is not without its challenges. For tasks still anchored in the physical realm, the digital connection falters. The mechanic mending the tangible, the barista and the cook – their roles remain, for now, less susceptible to this digital transcendence.

Despite these limitations, the potential is immense. As physical barriers dissolve, the global market opens up, offering unparalleled access to talent and resources. The programmer in India, the designer in Europe, each brings their unique skills to this vast digital bazaar. In this world, being a solitary entity – a one-man company – is not a disadvantage but a strength, a testament to agility and adaptability.

But what of economies of scale, that age-old mantra of the business world? Yes, producing a million pots is cheaper per unit than crafting a singular masterpiece. But this efficiency comes at a cost – the need for vast infrastructure, capital, logistics. The narrative is further complicated by the state's preference for the large and established, often at the expense of the small and nimble. Big is fragile.

Digital presence allows for wider cooperation of peer-to-peer network of nodes in the dark forest rather than old-school hierarchical structures. And where will this lead? One interesting development is becoming Satoshi Nakamoto - an anonymous creator in a vast web of dark forest’s anonymous production networks.

The hollow firm is agile, and embracing the philosophy of optionality. This elusive entity owns nothing but the ethereal wealth of know-how and connections. It shuns the physical for the digital, preferring a virtual presence over concrete walls.

The hollow firm is a network, not a hierarchy. Collaborators, not employees, pulse through its veins, their efforts as transient as the firm itself. It forges alliances with delivery and logistics companies, but only as fleeting partnerships, easily made and undone.

Education and marketing are whispers in the digital wind, webinars recorded in solitude, reaching those who seek knowledge at their leisure. The firm avoids the shackles of long-term contracts and fixed payments, instead weaving a web of possibilities, always asking how each tie adds options without obligations.

Responsive to the market's rhythm, the hollow firm expands and contracts with demand. It seizes opportunities, mines them, and fades away when they're exhausted. It's a symbol of adaptability and choice, thriving in the depths of the dark forest.

Smaller enterprises, individuals even, dance on the edge of a different precipice. They bear not the burdensome overheads of their larger counterparts – the weighty salaries, the sprawling offices, the myriad of fixed costs that chain like anchors. Instead, they glide, unencumbered by the excesses that drag down the giants in times of turmoil.

In this dance of survival, the question arises – is bigger truly better? The corporate leviathans, with their armies of employees, their mountains of infrastructure, stand exposed to market whims. A shift, a tremor in the economic landscape, and they falter, struggling under the weight of their own enormity.

Contrast this with the one-man venture, the independent spirit. Their agility lies in their simplicity – low operational costs, and a direct line from creation to consumer. They are the antithesis of fragility, able to weather storms that would buffet and bruise the behemoths.

The larger entities do hold some advantages – cushions of capital, lines of credit, the ability to pivot, to absorb shocks through sheer mass and resources. Yet, this capacity to 'dump a bag of money on the problem' often masks underlying issues, delays the inevitable reckoning of inefficiencies and missteps.

The main power of the multinational lies in the possibility to buy politicians. But this super-skill is useless in the dark forest.

In this landscape, the small, the individual, holds a unique power – the power of agility, of innovation unfettered by cumbersome corporate structures. They are the embodiment of the dark forest philosophy – standing out in a world where size is often mistaken for strength, where growth is equated with success.

This is the realm of the micro, the domain of the resilient and the adaptable. Here, growth is not a by-product of success, but a choice, a strategic decision weighed against the backdrop of a world that equates bigness with greatness. In the dark forest, the small thrive, not in spite of their size, but because of it.

Thinking becomes futile in this game; emotion is the currency, and fear the commodity traded. Political rivals are painted as architects of these fears, a boogeyman lurking behind every societal ill. Yet, when the victors ascend their thrones, the fears often dissipate, not because they were addressed, but because they were illusions, mirages in the desert of political discourse.

The antidote to this pervasive fear lies in awareness, in stepping out of the shadows and into the moonlight of understanding. For example Tim Ferriss created "fear setting" as a tool to dissect and dismantle these manufactured terrors. For in fear, critical thinking withers; like prey fleeing a predator, the mind resorts to primal instincts, neglecting reason and logic.

This manipulation is not limited to the political arena. It pervades every facet of society, from insurance sales to marketing strategies. Here, too, fear is a tool, wielded to dull the senses and cloud judgment. But knowledge is power. Understanding these tactics empowers us to resist, to see beyond the smoke and mirrors.

Nassim Nicholas Taleb says we should not measure risks we are taking, but take risks we understand. Yet understanding risks is difficult and thus we are handed centralised measurements - “fear this”!

In the grand scheme of societal control, fear is a double-edged sword. It has been a guardian, a protector in our evolutionary journey, yet it has become a weapon in the hands of those seeking power. The key lies in discerning its true nature, in distinguishing between genuine threats and shadows cast by those who wish to control us.

We should recognize when fear is used as a leash, and to choose whether to break free or remain bound. It's a call to venture into the dark forest, where politician-manufactured fears have almost no power. We should be armed with awareness and critical thinking, to find our path in a world where fear is no longer the compass that guides us.

An entrepreneur is not a "startup founder". The goal of the entrepreneur is to create value (profit) and not sell to a venture capital fund. An entrepreneur looks around him/her and identifies "money on the table" opportunities.

You can recognize them by the fact that they solve often diverse problems around them. They see an opportunity and often take it, even though it sometimes is quite different than what they are usually doing. The loop of problem => opportunity => value creation is what tells them apart from median population. And of course how they work with risk.

They are rarely fixated on one area, it is more of a mindset and personality trait than a craft or expertise.

The artist trauma is disproportionate, academic and mostly out of touch with reality.

This is not a rant against mainstream art, which is usually based on capitalism and real demand. Mainstream art is simple - sing alongs, pretty pictures, shallow stories. Hollywood movies capture and merge this aesthetic into a few hour blocks, streamed through corporate streaming networks or served with popcorn and Coca Cola in 15D ultrahyperdolbysuperscreen cinemas. Commercial main stream art is more honest than woke trauma art. It is a product that fulfills real needs.

This fact is absolutely hated by the woke art establishment. They despise art that is not approved by them, but is financed by market forces and demand. They want to be gatekeepers, choosing narratives, approved artists. They want to mold the art hierarchy to their liking.

Niche art that is sophisticated, yet not based on academic curators approving grant money can be seen in places where art had not been infected with woke socialism and propaganda. In or near hipster cafeterias and meeting places in Asia. In private residencies and secret events.

Or manifesting as parallel (second) culture... in the dark forest.

In the dark forest is your place to stand out. Present your uniqueness, shine your light. Show what you are made of.

The corporate culture of meetings and busy-ness is also full of pretend. Wasting time from meeting to meeting, taking notes, pushing paper. The results will come some day, today I'd rather go through the email.

The more the society is free, the harder it is to pretend. You can't fake value creation if it is measured in money, especially hard money.

Status thrives on faking.

Free society that has profit incentives does not need pretending. Nassim Nicholas Taleb said that the only person you should impress is your accountant.

Profit is self-referential. Are you satisfied with what you created? Are you better than yesterday? Did you meet your own expectations?

If you are motivated by internal goals, you can be truly authentic.

Darkness eliminates third parties. You need to get close enough to see what is going on. And you will be seen, if you are a third party. Darkness is a whisper to the ear, not a megaphone. Darkness is intimate. We make love in darkness, or by a gentle candle light.

Darkness has been there before light. It is the natural state of being. When we close our eyes, we are with ourselves, by ourselves. Many people fear this situation, we have unlearned to be without sensory distractions, afraid of our (un)consciousness.

Dark forest is nothing to be afraid of. It is booming with life - mycelial networks facilitating energy exchange. Various species of plants and animals, gravitating towards equilibrium. We are guests in the dark forest. Our minds are illuminated by the moon, a symbol of life.

Dark forest is not an escape. Darkness itself is not an escape. It allows us to truly see, truly be, in the present moment, with ourselves. There are no distractions, shining blinking objects. Darkness reveals the reality as it is.

In darkness, there are no distractions.