I learned to write from Thomas Hobbes.
During my freshman year of college, I unwittingly signed up for one of the most important classes I would take during my four years at school. Introduction to Political Theory. As a prospective public policy major, I thought this would be a good initial baby step into my major. Training wheels if you will.
Boy, was I wrong.
The professor was short and ripped. He was bald and had a massive bright red beard. He was a Buddhist who had spent his early career as a highway patrolman for the Louisiana State Police. That was up until he woke up one day and decided to become one of the world’s foremost experts on Hobbesian political theory. He was so well versed in the subject that he didn’t require essays in his class to be submitted through any sort of plagiarism checker. He was confident if a paper existed on any of the theorists discussed in his class that, not only would he have read it previously, but that he would be able to recognize it an ill-intentioned student’s submission.
I was so intimidated I dropped the class.
Luckily by my second semester, I was able to work up the confidence to sign up again. I am so glad I did as the class turned out to be one of the most influential academic courses I have taken in my life. Not only did the political theories examined leave an impression on me, but the very way that I wrote was transformed. How could it not be? I was spending countless hours examining the masterpieces of some of the most thoughtful orators and philosophers the world has ever known.
The writings of Thomas Hobbes and John Locke left an especially indelible mark.
Hobbes was a 16th-century English philosopher whose political theories laid the foundations for much of the modern state. Hobbes believed that without a form of central authority, man would revert to his basest instincts. In this state of nature, anyone would take whatever they wanted if they had the force to do so. This would lead to a “war of all against all” where there would be no room for arts, science, culture, or enterprise. Left to our own devices, Hobbes contends that life would be “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”
Hobbes’ solution to this bleak proposition is for people to join together in a social contract that would provide for the good of all. Individuals would cede some of their rights to a central authority that would have ultimate power to enforce the social contract and remediate breaches thereof. He called this central authority “Leviathan.”
Leviathan would simultaneously be strong enough to maintain unquestionable authority and also be beholden to the governed. Hobbes believed that every member of the social contract would be entitled to equal rights and protections and because they themselves created Leviathan, only they could change it.
Hobbes’ theory of the state of nature and the need to form Leviathan was built upon by another English Philosopher named John Locke. Locke believed that a government’s obligation was to protect the “Life, Liberty, and Property” of its constituents. In Locke’s eyes, humans were born equal and free and that governments, therefore, only ruled by the consent of the governed.
Locke’s philosophy was the bedrock upon which a group of revolutionaries designed the United States of America. Like Hobbes, our founding fathers believed in a strong central government formed by, and beholden to, the very people that it governed. This government would be created to protect people’s life, liberty, and ability to pursue happiness.
Much has changed in the last 250 years, but I believe that the foundational beliefs that underpinned the creation of our nation remain as true today as they did then.
I believe that people have a right to live however they see fit up until the point where their freedom starts infringing on others. That’s where Leviathan gets involved.
The military and police are projections of Leviathan’s power. They enforce the social contracts that we have all joined together to be a part of.
As with Leviathan itself, they only have power because we give it to them.
Unfortunately, institutions are just as prone to principal-agent problems as people are. We may imbue them with the power to act on our behalf, but over time there will always be a temptation to act in their own self-interest. Many institutions forget that they exist to serve us and instead believe that their purpose is to expand and protect their own purview.
Law enforcement are a critical piece of infrastructure. Just like schools or libraries or roads. And just like all of those other institutions, they should be beholden to the people they have sworn to protect and serve.
They exist for us. We do not exist for them. If they are not working how we want them to, then change is not only appropriate but required.
I believe calls to defund law enforcement are just as short-sighted as they would be if they were calling to defund schools, or libraries, or roads (and a prime example of the unnecessary division of charged language). But it is clear that meaningful reform is needed for an institution that people no longer believe serves their best interest. The good news is that many of the most effective reforms are not nearly as drastic as you may expect (Side Note: It is shocking how few municipalities have common-sense requirements for their officers. Only 42 of the largest 100 police departments in the country require the use of deadly force to only be used as a last resort!)
Others have written on the issues and potential solutions for the current system much more effectively than I could ever hope to (I think my friend Kris did an especially exceptional job).
My hope with this post is to simply point out that demanding reform and questioning our institutions is not “un-American”. In fact, nothing could be more American. Calls for reform are based on beliefs that are foundational to the creation of our republic.
Beliefs that institutions should work for us, not against us. That we are created equal and that every member of our society should be treated fairly.
That the power of institutions is not inherent and that it only exists as long as we deem it so.
We agree and Leviathan enforces our agreement. That’s how it works.
Yes, Leviathan is all-powerful. It needs to be in order to protect those who have no power.
But we must not forget that Leviathan works for us, not the other way around.
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