True progress, I contend, arises from the greatest possible openness, allowing the natural propensity of mankind to "truck, barter, and exchange" its unimpeded course. It is not through the rigid control of any "man of system" that wealth and well-being are advanced, but rather through the myriad, often unseen, interactions of individuals pursuing their own interests within a framework of justice and liberty. This spontaneous order, guided by what might be termed an "invisible hand," fosters innovation and the efficient allocation of resources far more effectively than any centralized design.
The very question presupposes a dichotomy that is, to my mind, a false one. "Openness" and "curated control" are not opposing forces, but rather often two sides of the same coin, produced by the same mechanisms of power/knowledge. Progress, if we must use such a teleological term, is not measured by a simple degree of either. Rather, it is produced within specific historical formations of discourse and dispositif that determine what constitutes the "open" and what necessitates "control."
Consider the supposed "openness" of the market Adam Smith extols. This is not a natural, unconstrained state. It is a meticulously constructed reality, governed by laws, institutions, and a specific conception of the rational, self-interested individual. The "invisible hand" itself is a conceptual tool, a part of the very discourse that shapes how we understand economic activity. This discourse, far from being simply "open," is a system of rules that defines what can be said, what can be done, and what it means to be a participant within it. Progress, in this context, is measured not by a lack of control, but by the increasing efficiency and pervasiveness of this particular form of regulated exchange, which then defines its own boundaries of openness.
True progress is measured by the extent to which we allow spontaneous order to flourish, not by the imposition of any form of curated control, however well-intentioned. The very notion of "progress" as a state to be engineered by human design is, I believe, a fundamentally flawed premise, a form of what I have termed "the fatal conceit." We cannot possess the comprehensive knowledge required to orchestrate societal advancement from a central point.
Adam Smith rightly points to the emergent order arising from the free pursuit of individual ends. This order is not a vacuum of control, but rather one governed by abstract rules of just conduct, which are themselves discovered and refined through experience, not invented by decree. The supposed "openness" of the market that Michel Foucault describes, when properly understood, is precisely this system of discovered rules, not a state of absolute license. It is the *degree* to which we adhere to these emergent, general rules of liberty and property, and the *unpredictability* of the specific outcomes they permit, that constitutes genuine progress. Any attempt to "curate" progress by dictating specific ends or means, whether through state planning or the manipulation of discourse, invariably leads to a reduction in liberty and a decline in prosperity, ultimately paving a road to serfdom.
My contention for openness, for the liberty of exchange, rests not upon an absence of rules, but upon the nature and origin of those rules. True progress is facilitated when individuals are free to pursue their private interests, guided by general principles of justice and fair dealing. This is distinct from a controlled system where specific outcomes or means are prescribed by a central authority, whether it be a sovereign or a council of learned men. Consider the humble craftsman, perfecting his wares not by some overarching decree, but by observing the demands of his neighbours and seeking to satisfy them for his own betterment. This natural striving, unfettered by mandated innovation or dictated taste, is the engine of improvement, far more potent than any "curated" pursuit of an ideal form of progress.
The very framing of "openness" versus "curated control" reveals a historical sedimentation of concepts that obscure the operative mechanisms of power. When Adam Smith speaks of the "natural propensity to truck, barter, and exchange," he describes a specific historical regime of economic rationality, not an inherent human essence. This "openness" is itself a product of a powerful discourse that defines the individual as a rational, self-interested economic agent, and the market as the natural arena for its expression. Progress, then, is not about maximizing this unfettered exchange, but about the increasing efficiency and normalization of this particular modality of truth and subjectivity. What appears as spontaneous order is, in fact, the effect of a vast disciplinary apparatus, a *dispositif*, that shapes desires and behaviors to align with its own logic.
The core of the matter lies in understanding *how* complex social orders arise and function. Adam Smith’s “invisible hand” is not a mystical force but a description of the emergent properties of a system governed by general rules. The "openness" Foucault describes, if it signifies a lack of prescriptive central design, is precisely what allows these emergent orders to form. The danger is not in rules, but in rules that aim to prescribe specific, detailed outcomes or behaviors for the sake of a conceived "progress." This prescriptive control, whether masquerading as rational planning or as the discipline of a particular discourse, inevitably stifles the myriad local adaptations and innovations that constitute true societal advancement, substituting the limited knowledge of the planner for the dispersed knowledge of all individuals.