Anti-utilitarianism. Maximum harm for the maximum number of people

I'd like to lay out my beliefs. I've somehow gotten used to the inertia of thinking, like, some bastards are raising a billion for a child's treatment, when they could have helped a bunch of less sick children, or even paid them to have normal ones. I don't really believe that, and it's just a way to keep up a conversation with, well, enemies. In reality, everyone is a cop. I mean, everyone will force you to comply with public order just as strongly. They'll turn a blind eye to minor things, and for serious ones, they'll also arrest you or turn you in (in the case of real cops, they'll call for help to detain you, basically the same thing). The point is, there are your people: friends, family. That's all they have. And the rest need to be beaten. You can joke that the real elites actually think something like that, but that's not true. There are several layers. There are those on whom you currently depend, and you shouldn't conflict with them. There's some friendly fauna, so to speak, like cats, cute little creatures, and all that. You can help them, but not to your own detriment. I feed stray cats whenever possible; it's a great idea. But everyone else is either parasites or competitors. You shouldn't do anything good to them, and if possible, you should, well, deprive them of the opportunity to harm you in the future. I'm not talking about all the cruelty, because the chances of getting away with it if you constantly commit that are zero. The problem with real elites, like the Mongols, was that they accepted ransom payments instead of beating everyone to the punch. In fact, if they had destroyed all the civilizations of Eurasia and left only them and all the savages in the forests, the average level of peace and freedom would be a hundred times higher now. The title is certainly provocative; I want the good of humanity. It's just that we're talking about the lower good. For the lower good. To illustrate, here's an excerpt from Konstantin Krylov's story about time travel from totalitarian France, which created hell on earth: I don't want this country to turn into a vile Empire that will destroy the world. Therefore, I have made it my goal to banish from France the spirit of asceticism, meaningless labor, and service to state interests. I teach the French to love life, to appreciate luxury and pleasure, works of art, beautiful spectacles, idleness, and carelessness in everything. I encourage all vices, all whims, all the senseless spending of our nobility. I have handed over taxes to tax farmers, and let them steal as much as they can. I also encourage loans at high interest rates, so long as the money is spent on luxury and entertainment. I turn a blind eye to the betrayal of state interests, to the bribes our statesmen take from foreigners—let their pockets burst with criminal gold. At the same time, I consistently banish all intelligent people from my circle, especially champions of progress. But under my reign, the French court became the most luxurious in Europe. Reckless spending, brazen sybaritism, unbridled extravagance—that is what I demand of my loyal subjects, and in this I set a worthy example. From those whose means prevent them from spending enough, I expect destructive ideas, crimes, or at least good old-fashioned debauchery. Let the aristocracy live in luxury, philosophers preach equality, and the poor starve and harbor discontent. You say this will lead to an explosion? He suddenly turned around. Yes! No country, let alone ours, could withstand such a government. Some twenty, maybe thirty years will pass, and France will no longer be able to pay the national debt. I believe that by then the upper classes will have become completely corrupted and will not allow the state to rectify the situation. The greedy gang will continue to empty the treasury, and when the time comes to pay the bills, they will shift all the blame onto the king and set the mob on him. If I live to see that time, so be it. But most likely, my children or grandchildren will pay. I don’t know what they will call the bloody flood that will inundate France, but it will be long... I wouldn’t be surprised if the French did invent a machine for chopping off heads. But I still worry about what they will think of our era? What will they call it? What do you think, Louise? -- They will call our century brilliant and gallant, Your Majesty, and they will envy us.