Obligation, Obedience, Legitimacy

"Unjust laws exist, shall we be content to obey them ... or shall we transgress them at once?" - H. D. Thoreau.

Obligation, Obedience, Legitimacy

This essay began as a study of the concept of obligation – particularly obligation to the state – in the works of Simone Weil, Richard Flathman, and Henry David Thoreau. I have always found something exhilarating about Simone Veil – both in her life as a member of the French Resistance and in her works, in particular, her argument in The Need for Roots that obligations do in fact, and ought to in theory, precede rights. My fascination with this idea is clear in this essay, and I agree that a concept of obligation is far richer than that of rights, and could inject some much needed fresh air into Western political thought. So it was with great interest that I also read Political Obligation by Richard Flathman, a dense academic work on the titular concept by way of analysis of the term and related terms. The crucial topic of the book, in my view, was what Flathman called “the general rule” which precedes all individual laws. The general rule to “obey all laws” is the foremost political obligation (in Flathman’s view), and is what makes all other laws (legal obligations) potent. I have always had trouble with the idea of unquestioning, unconditional obedience to laws. There have been, and still are, plenty of laws that ought not to be followed – conscription laws, slavery laws, segregation laws, fascist laws, and even ridiculous (but still bad) laws like forbidding anyone from giving water to people in line to vote in some US states.i I thought it useful to consult the foremost political disobedient, Thoreau. His object to paying taxes to fund the US-Mexico War, and his justification for doing so, illuminate an alternative idea of political obligation.

As I wrote, it became more and more clear that what I was writing about was the legitimacy of states to claim obligations of their citizens. The title of this essay only came after the bulk of it had been written. By arguing for the primacy of our obligation to others, our obligations to the state necessarily became contingent on the state’s respect of our social obligations. That is to say, the moment the state asks us to act against what we know to be right – our obligations to others – it gives up its legitimacy and dissolves our obligations towards it. This was the view of Thoreau (though he was more focused on individual moral sense than any idea of social obligation) – denying his relationship with the state that supported the institutions of slavery and war.

In essence, this essay is an investigation into the logical implications of one premise. All conclusions, I believe, follow directly from that one idea. That premise is: “We, as members of the human species, have an obligation to respect each and every human being, uphold the sanctity of their life, and endeavour to ensure their dignity. This is an inalienable, unconditional obligation.” Unfortunately, this is a premise that cannot be proven with certainty – unless one turns to religion, as Weil did. If any reader does not agree with this premise, there is no need to continue with this essay – for that reader will find all that follows irrational. However, I believe that there is no reason to require this premise to be proven, if one wishes to live well among others and promote a common wellbeing, it is enough to merely accept it as a truth. I am of the opinion that the more controversial this premise is, the more pessimistic we ought to be about the future of our civilisation. For it is a lack of respect for fellow human beings that has been a direct cause of all atrocities committed throughout human history.

But this is more than enough of a preliminary. I must thank Mieke Burch, for her criticism and advice. Of course, all errors belong only to myself.


What is the use of a social and political concept of obligation? The word brings to mind the feudal contracts between lords and serfs. Today’s political theorist and everyday person have little need for the term, since the invention of the concept individual rights – whether called natural rights, human rights, civil rights, or any other kind. It isn’t hard to see why. After all, rights are something one possesses, an innate property of oneself, that no one can justly violate. On the other hand, obligations demand action of a person, and exertion of energy. The language of rights is the language of security, while the language of obligation is of restriction.

Rights are negative – they endow each person with unbreachable boundaries, the equivalent of personal space. Rights say “You may do as you wish, as long as you do not do X”. On the other hand, obligations are positive, they say “You must do X”. The difference between a system of rights and a system of obligations is analogous to the weak and strong versions of the Golden Rule: “Do not do unto others what you would not have them do to you,” and, “Do unto others what you would have them do unto you.”

In the years leading up to the signing of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, Simone Weil (1909-1943) rejected the sentiment of the time, in the first part of her work The Need for Roots1. She explained that, really, rights both necessitate and camouflage obligations. A right does not have any substance without the obligation that precedes it. She writes:

A right is not effectual by itself, but only in relation to the obligation to which it corresponds, the effective exercise of a right springing not from the individual who posses it, but from other men who consider themselves as being under a certain obligation towards him. … A right which goes unrecognised by anybody is not worth very much.2

A right is nothing but an obligation from the perspective of the object to which the obligation refers. The sentence “I have a right to an education” really means “you have an obligation to educate me”. The difference is that the actual agent doing the educating is left out when the speaker uses the language (and grammar) of rights. They address the sentence to themselves, when they are really asking another to take action.

Rights are passive, obligations active. That is to say, a statement of a right is merely a factual claim, while a statement of an obligation is both a factual claim and a normative imperative. Rights demand recognition, while obligations demand fulfilment, The difference in language is crucial. Saying “every human being has the right to be housed” does not have the same consequences as saying “we have an obligation to house every human being”.

In this way, the language of rights implicitly relies upon the concept of an obligation, while reducing that concept to a shadow of itself, weakening it until it becomes all but ineffective. What is the use in relying on a passive, muddying language, when a language of clear action is available?

First, an idea of what obligations actually exist and where they originate is needed. Simone Weil’s position is that all human beings, on account of their membership in the human species, unconditionally deserve respect. The obligation to respect someone is only fulfilled when that person’s “earthly needs” are met. One can certainty not be said to be respected if they are reduced to inhuman conditions, forced to live a life of pain and want. The archetypical need is to be fed, others include “protection against violence, housing, clothing, heating, hygiene, and medical attention in case of illness.”3

The real substance of Weil’s obligations I respect for the sanctity of life and the dignity of a person. If there was a single obligation that we could be said to have to each other, it would be ensuring that no person suffers a death that could be prevented, or condemned to a life without the opportunity to flourish and find joy. Weil, very religious, derives this premise from the “eternal destiny” of the individual, but this is not necessary. As long as one is willing to give up a metaphysical justification to respect people and treat them with dignity, the claim that each person deserves this treatment can remain a premise that one is free to deny. Though, frankly, there does not appear to be much of a place in social life for someone who does so. John Rawls’ thought experiment of the original position could be applied here.4 Would you, before being born, and not knowing who you would be or what place in society you would inhabit, prefer a world where respect and dignity is the first principle of all action, or one where they were merely non-essential considerations, or even not present at all?

Some non-material human needs are fulfilled directly by social life (“collectives”, in Weil’s translated words). Given that human beings are social animals, which evolved in communities, human beings have social needs. A collective is said to be healthy when these needs are met, and unhealthy when they are not. For example, a collective that promotes truth and freedom of opinion will be better for the individual’s social needs than a collective that restrains these things5. In addition, a collective with a degree of equality will be better than a collective with stratified castes, fostering superiority and inferiority complexesii. She goes on to list social needs6, but they are not strictly the focus of this essay. The significant point is the fact that a community fulfils (some of) the needs of individuals, which creates a contingent obligation to the community, inasmuch as it does so. Weil compares the community’s role in nourishing human needs to a cornfield, in that respect is owed to it “not because of itself, but because it is food for mankind”.7

But the community’s inherent ability to fulfil certain needs is only one part of its value, and thus only one cause of obligation to it. The other arises from the practical manner of fulfilling each of our obligations to each other. Though obligations are held by individuals to other individuals, the most effective way to fulfil these obligations is not on an individual level – sometimes it is not even possible. An example of the former is the obligation to ensure that everyone is fed – it is theoretically possible to feed everyone you meet who is in need of food, practically though, there are more effective ways to do to this. An example of the latter is shelter – it is simply not possible for an individual to provide housing for everyone who needs it. As a result, the fulfilment of the obligation is tasked to the community, in the form of an organisation which could only be called political – exercising authority, allocating and making use of resources. However, the obligation to fulfil the needs of members of the community is not totally outsourced to the “state” (i.e., the political organisation of society), it is not alienated from the individuals. The state is less of a contractor, more of an agent of the community’s combined obligations to its members. As a result, the responsibility remains with the individuals within the community, and any transgressions or failings by the state must be amended by the individuals. And again, the obligation to obey the state and to further its efforts (pay taxes, etc.) is only ever contingent on the state fulfilling its obligations.

This is the first step towards a notion of political obligation. It seems that there can exist an obligation from citizens towards the state that respects the dignity of its citizens, and fulfils its obligations towards them. In this way, the state has an obligation to its citizens, and the citizens to the state. “Ask not what your country can do for you – ask what you can do for your country,” – no, ask what your country is doing to fulfil its obligations to you and your fellow citizens, then ask what you can do for your country to further that cause.

This process could be called the politicisation of obligation. But it could just as easily be called the socialisation of obligation. Both are true, and without contradiction, for what is a state (at least a healthy, legitimate state) if not the expression of the will of society, working to solve the problems that society is concerned with. A good state is a society conscious of itself and its own needs, and self-organising its collective energy and resources.

The more pressing question, however, is the individual’s relationship to the state. We have said that individuals have contingent obligation to this state – but what is the nature of this obligation? What does it entail? These questions will be better illuminated through an investigation into the next writer, Richard E. Flathman.

Richard Flathman’s (1934-2015) focus was on applying analytic philosophy’s methods to political science. As a result, his book Political Obligation (1972) is an excellent resource for widening and deepening our understanding of the term, by working through the implications of linguistically related concepts. Flathman’s goal was to investigate many of the questions we are concerned with here.

Though we have a general understanding of the term “obligation”, we are yet to properly define “political obligation”. Put simply, a political obligation is an obligation an individual has towards the polity or state. Flathman understands political obligation as “practice” a term from Rawls meaning something similar to “convention”iii. The practice of political obligation results from a “constellation of concepts, rules, institutions, and arrangements”.8 The crucial component is rules, that is to say, laws. That is the method by which the state defines our obligations to it. So, for example, we have an obligation to drive on the correct side of the road, pay our taxes, and return books to the public library, because the state has codified these actions into law.

Doing any of these actions would cease to be the fulfilment of an obligation at the moment we do them solely because we have been coerced. To use an analogy, we fulfil an obligation when we keep a promise, not when we stay silent because we have been threatened with gun to our head. This leads us to an essential characteristic of a political obligation – it must be accepted by individuals as a worthwhile obligation to fulfil. Thus, an obligation requires a good reason, a valid justification (beyond the justification of “do X or I will hurt you”). So, the practice of political obligation can be said to take place when there are rules with good reasons, leading to acceptance and action on the part of individuals. Rules establish an obligation, good reasons justify it, individuals accept the obligation, and take action to fulfil it.

A lot is made clear by this understanding of political obligation, but some issues remain. The formula of “rule plus good reason equals acceptance and action” cannot explain all behaviour in respect to laws. The most important question is this: if the practice of political obligation breaks down at the moment that an individual does not accept the reason for a law, why do individuals, in most cases, follow the law even if they do disagree? The preceding argument seems to be that if one does not agree with a law, there must be some other reason to obey, which must involve coercion and an absence of the practice of obligation. But this is not the case.

The answer lies in the fact that every specific law is preceded by one general rule, the rule to “obey the law”. This is the general political obligation that individuals owe to states. No legislature passes a bill requiring all citizens to obey the law. It is taken as given that a state cannot exist without its citizens acknowledging that they are obliged to obey its laws. Without the general rule, there could be no laws, therefore, it contains its own good reason – that the rule to follow the law is what gives weight to all individual laws. As a result, since the general rule backs up all laws, violating one law (which violates the general rule) is the equivalent of violating every law, for the general rule is weakened as a consequence of lawbreaking. Breaking the law is a challenge of the state’s authority to impose law.

This allows for individuals to not accept a particular law, yet still participate in the practice of political obligation by accepting the good reasons for, and obeying, the general rule. In fact, there is no need at all to consider the reasonableness of a law when the general rule is accepted. Flathman quotes a speech of Abraham Lincoln, who makes this point:

Let every American, every lover of liberty, every well wisher to his posterity, swear by the blood of the Revolution, never to violate in the least particular, the laws of the country; and never to tolerate their violation by others … let every man remember that to violate the law, is to trample on the blood of his father, and to tear the charter of his own, and his children’s liberty.9

Flathman identifies three types of stances an individual can hold towards political obligation.10 First is the position of Lincoln’s citizen, described above – whether a specific law is rejected or accepted, the general rule is obeyed, therefore resulting in the law being obeyed. The second position occurs when, the specific law is rejected, the general law is believed to be legitimate, but the law is violated anyway. This is the position of the civil disobedient, who, while disobeying a law on principle or as part of a protest, will generally accept the consequences stipulated, and the authority of the state arresting them. Finally, laws and the general rule are categorically rejected, and the authority and legitimacy of the state is denied. This is the position of the revolutionary.

The implications of Flathman’s three positions is that there are really only three choices available to individuals – follow the law even when it causes them to do wrong, break the law but accept the consequences as legitimate, or destroy their participation in the practice of political obligation. Simone Weil’s picture of obligation contradicts these options. The first choice is not possible – if a law causes one to violate their obligation to another, following that law is not correct. The second choice is also not possible – for if a state punishes someone for breaking a law in order to fulfil an obligation, this cannot be legitimate. Finally, the third choice results in a rejection of the state categorically, which one still has a degree of obligation to as an agent fulfilling our social obligations.

t appears that there is a contradiction between our innate obligations to each other, and the ability to live as citizens of a state. If the breaking of any law is the equivalent to the rejection of all laws, disobeying the state when it asks you to violate one of your obligations is itself a violation of your political obligation. Either Simone Weil is wrong and our obligations to each other are not, in fact, ultimate, or there is something wrong with the practice of political obligation. We now turn to Thoreau for help in dissolving this contradiction.

Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862), a rugged individualist, had direct experience with unjust laws. Thankfully, he was outraged enough to write his “Civil Disobedience” (1849) after spending a night in Concord’s jail. In objecting to the United States Government’s demand to pay the poll-tax, which would fund the US-Mexico War and the institution of slavery (he also participated in the Underground Railroad as a conductor), he rejected one of the most quintessential political obligations.

Thoreau acknowledges that the state is a necessary institution (at least for the time being). He does not question the legitimacy of the state in imposing laws in general (he is not a revolutionary). His quarrel is his relationship with the state, and in particular to the general rule of “obey the law”. He writes:

Must the citizen ever for a moment, or in the least degree, resign his conscience to the legislator? Why has every man a conscience, then? I think that we should be men first, and subjects afterward. It is not desirable to cultivate a respect for the law, so much as for the right. The only obligation which I have a right to assume, is to do at any time what I think right.11

Thoreau would prefer every person to do what is right, not what is legal. Ideally, these would be the same thing, but if ever there is a contradiction, one’s conscience ought to prevail. Before any political obligation, there is the obligation to act on one’s conscience, to do what is right. This aligns with Weil’s theory of obligation. Individual obligations precede any obligation to the state – since the state is an agent for those very obligations.

Acceptance of the general rule unconditionally, and unquestioning obedience to the state (as Lincoln argued) creates the possibility for individuals to act immorally. Thoreau: “by means of [individuals’] respect for [the law], even the well-disposed are daily made the agents of injustice.”12 It seems impossible to accept a general rule to obey the law when that rule contains the potentiality for evil. To use a recent example, US President Trump has ordered the mass deportation of all people residing in the US illegally. Some have been manacled and put on flights to other countries,iv and 30,000 will be sent to a rapidly constructed detention (concentration?) camp in Guantanamo Bay, Cubav. These measures will undoubtedly cause immense harm to all involved, and those who participate in the perpetuation of this action as the law requires will be directly committing this harm.13

It is clear that Thoreau does not fit into Flathman’s categories. Obviously he does not follow the law out of acceptance of the general rule. But he also doesn’t take the revolutionary position of rejecting the general rule completely. If the individual laws were in line with the right, Thoreau would have no qualms following them – he mentions paying a different tax which funded the education system in Concord. He accepts the state as legitimate to the extent that it does not ask him to commit injustice. Significantly, he also doesn’t fit the civil disobedient stance as Flathman understands it – despite the title of the essay. Flathman’s civil disobedient objects to the law, breaks it, and yet upholds the legitimacy of the general rule and of the state to apply sanctions. Thoreau does not hold these premises. He states: “I cannot for an instant recognise that political organisation as my government which is the slave’s government also.”14

The position Thoreau holds is a conditional rejection of the general rule. He arrives at this conclusion based on the premise that our first obligation is to do the right thing, and that a demand form a state to contravene one’s conscience is to destroy the legitimacy of that state. Though disobeying a law undermines the general rule and the entire practice of political obligation, the state had already violated its part of the deal and dissolved all obligations towards it.

In other words, individuals have a conditional obligation to obey the laws made by the state. Only when a law does not contradict one’s moral sense should the law be followed. Morality precedes, and supersedes, legality. Again this aligns with Weil, the state is secondary to obligation we have to treat every person with respect.

If the general rule is “obey the law when it is right to do so,” the rule is not violated when laws are not broken for good reason, thus, the practice of political obligation remains intact. However, this modification of the rule does have implications for the exercise of justice and the education of citizens. Since the rule now involved a subjective element (“when it is right to do so must be decided by each individual), the legal system ought to account not just for discovering and punishing violations of the law, but also evaluate the rightness of legal obligations. Also, moral education of individuals is necessary to avoid confusion over what the right thing to do is.15

Now we can return to the question of legitimacy: when can a state legitimately demand obligations from citizens – particularly the general obligation to obey the law? From the preceding discussions, we can find three conditions that must be fulfilled by the state for the practice of political obligations to exist. All three require acceptance of two vital premises, Weil’s and Thoreau’s: that we have an obligation to others to respect them and treat them with dignity, and we have an obligation to ourselves to follow our conscience.

The first condition is the conclusion reached after the discussion concerning the fulfilment of obligations that cannot be done alone. The organisation of labour, resources, and energy required to execute obligations is, at present, largely done by the state. Obviously, this is only a recent phenomena, and, historically speaking, it is not why states have actually been constituted. But the extent that the state does fulfil obligations is what makes it legitimate. The lack of this does not make it less of a state, merely less legitimate, and less deserving of our political obligation. Why would a state that taxes its citizens, yet does not contribute at all to the betterment of human lives, be obeyed at all? It is no surprise that the states undergoing crises of legitimacy are the ones that have embraced austerity and neoliberalism, abandoning its obligation to its citizens and withdrawing from society.

The second condition involves the general rule and Thoreau’s primacy of conscience. Given that our obligation to each other and our obligation to our conscience (the latter necessary to fulfil the former) are essential, any attempt to deny them or restrain them must be illegitimate. The general rule – the political obligation to obey the law – creates the potential for a state to force an individual to violate their obligations. This is not merely theoretical, it has happened and it is happening. Therefore, the unconditional general rule is illegitimate – or more precisely, it is only legitimate until it asks us to violate our obligations, which is the same thing. The conditional general rule to obey the law when it is right to do so, avoids the outcome of causing individuals to violate their obligations, while complicating the judicial system. Distilling these premises into a principle, the second condition of legitimacy is respect for the obligations of individuals towards their conscience and towards others.

The third condition for legitimacy is a direct consequence of our dual obligations. Given that we have an obligation to respect others and an obligation to use and follow our conscience, the obligations that require political organisation must involved our individual consciences. That is to say, we must be active participants in the state’s fulfilment of obligation. For, again, even as the state executes our social obligations, it is not responsible for them, we as individuals are. We said before that we do not contract out our obligations, we merely make use of the state as an agent to perform them. In this way, the obligations that a state requires of individuals are decided by individuals, through the use of our conscience and processes of deliberation and consensus. Thus, re-framing this argument, for political obligations to be legitimate, they must be decided democratically. Not only that, but the degree of democracy must be relatively high – this discussion implies direct participation in democracy, which might require local and participatory models of democratic governance.

This essay has spent considerable time in the realm of the abstract. Now it is time to bring it down to the earth and discuss the practical implications in our lives and our relationship with the state. There are undoubtedly many, but this essay will focus on four, ranging from least to most radical.

First, we can demand better policy from the state. By focusing our language and rhetoric on the obligations the state has towards its citizens, we can make a powerful case for initiatives that improve the lives of our fellow humans. Argue that the state has an obligation to house every person, and thus ought to invest in high quality housing for every person who needs it – around 100,000 in Australia, 770,000 in the US, and 325,000 in the UK. The rhetoric of obligation is direct, clear, and contains action within its expression. The moral pressure on the state is high. To go a step further, explicitly tie the state’s legitimacy directly to its obligations. Argue that any imposition of austerity measures is an abdication of legitimacy, and a failure of the highest order. Ensure that any political party that has austerity in mind knows that they will be unconditionally rejected by all who predicate the state’s legitimacy on the fulfilment of its obligations. Induce dilemma actions, where either outcome benefits the cause. Publicly and loudly, at mass rallies if possible, ask the state why it does not recognise its obligations to its citizens. Either the state will go on the record pledging to fulfil them, or will deny its obligations entirely. Both responses strengthen the political pressure on the state to take action, either by holding it to its promise, or by making use of the outraged caused by a denial.

The second case that could be made is for greater participation in democracy. Given that we have obligations to each other, the fulfilment of these obligations by the state ought to be under our control as much as possible. In essence, demand the ability to take responsibility for our obligations. This could take the form of greater participation and power for local governments, as well as more directly democratic methods of decision making for national governments (and state/regional governments in federative countries). Argue that the remoteness of the most powerful levels of the state inhibits its ability to fulfil its obligations. States ought to be more directly controlled by its citizens, for they know best how to solve problems. In addition, a case could be made for a degree of devolution and decentralisation, since locals know the conditions of their area best. There are many ways to make our democracies more democratic, and they all ought to be investigated.

A more radical response to this essay would be to deny the legitimacy of the unconditional general rule, and refuse to follow it. Obviously, breaking laws that one disagrees with will still be interpreted by the state as violation. Nonetheless, breaking bad laws and making a case for the illegitimacy of the rule to obey could be a powerful tool to promote radical thinking. Of course, there are laws that ought to be broken as a necessity in itself – crucial ones being conscription laws and the paying of taxes to states engaged in offensive warfare. Even if one does not feel able to break bad laws, there is still a powerful argument to reject their legitimacy, and the legitimacy of the state to impose them.

Finally, the revolutionary interpretation of this essay is to deny the legitimacy of the state in its current form entirely – after all, Western liberal-representative democracies do not completely fulfil any of the three conditions for legitimacy. Of course, the consequence of doing so is that one must organise in other areas, to create structures that are obligation-respecting, obligation-fulfilling, and directly democratic. Organisations that act to ensure the dignity and freedom of every human person are a necessity if one accepts Weil’s obligation to respect all human beings, They are also a more effective force to lead others to the conclusions of this essay – far better than this or any other piece of writing ever could. By demonstrating the value of directly democratic organisations that fulfil the obligations the state cannot, the case for a different organisation of social and political life becomes very convincing.

At the start of this essay, it was asked: what use is a concept of obligation? To give a final answer, the idea of our obligations to each other grants the ability to question the state when it violates, or causes us to violate, obligations. Rather than accepting the state as long as it respects our rights, we may question its legitimacy when it imposes unjust laws or fails to ensure that all humans are capable of living lives of dignity. Not only that, but a more active, participatory democracy becomes a necessity, to allow us to directly ensure that our obligations to each other are fulfilled.

The language of rights is insufficient, and distorts the true nature of our social relationships. All rights presuppose an obligation, but by changing the subject of the relationship to the right-holder, the necessity of action that obligations contain is lost. By discarding the language of rights, new ideas – about ourselves, our social obligations, and the state – can be discovered. Given that the state is the organisation of our collective energies, it is also the agent of our collective obligations. But the state can deny its obligations by use of the language of rights. As long as its legitimacy condition is respect for rights only, its ability to improve human well-being is structurally inhibited.

If the legitimacy of the state is found in its execution of our obligations, then this is also the source of our obligation to it – our political obligation. The practice of political obligation involved rules democratically decided, good reasons for those rules, acceptance by individuals, and action in alignment with them. The foundation of these rules is one general rule – which has been found to be only legitimate when its structure respects our individual conscience and our obligations to each other. This general rule is to obey the law when it is right to do so.

This rethinking of our relationship to the state has a series of practical implications. I am of the view that all are legitimate, and all ought to be pursued simultaneously. It is time enough for us to stand up and face our governments, and hold them to their obligations. For, after all, the state may be failing in its obligations – but they are really our obligations, to each other. The failings of our governments are up to us to solve. Whether by reform or other means, we all have an obligation to reshape the state to respect human life, human dignity, and human conscience.


Excuse the double list of footnotes – the original document contained both footnotes and endnotes

1 This essay refers to the translation dated 1950, published 1952. L'enracinement was first published in 1949.

2 The Need for Roots, part 1.

3 Ibid.

4 Rawls, A Theory of Justice, ch. 1.

5 The Need for Roots, part 1.

6 She enumerates: Order, liberty, obedience, responsibility, equality, hierarchism, honour, punishment, freedom of opinion, security, risk, private property, collective property, truth. See The Need for Roots, Part 1.

7 The Need for Roots, part 1.

8 Political Obligation, Introduction.

9 Ibid.

10 Ch. 6.

11 Thoreau, “Civil Disobedience”. Emphasis added.

12 Ibid.

13 Though these actions are the result of an executive order, not legislation, they still fall under the general rule.

14 “Civil Disobedience”

15 An education unlike that of the maths and sciences, and more akin to the study of philosophy, and interpretation of literature. Discussions and debates, not lectures in hard facts and proofs.

i Karimi, 2021 (March 26). It’s now illegal in Georgia to give food and water to voters in line. CNN.

ii Bros, 2014. The Burden of Caste on Social Identity in India. The Journal of Developmental Studies.

iii Rawls, 1955. Two Concepts of Rules. The Philosophical Review.

iv Pérez, 2025 (January 29). Migrants describe flights aboard US military planes carrying out Trump’s swift deportations. Associated Press.

v Mason, Ali, & Hesson, 2025 (January 30). Trump to prepare facility at Guantanamo for 30,000 migrants. Reuters.

Subscribe to Wandering Wonderings

Sign up here to join the email newsletter and get new posts straight to your inbox.
your@email.com
Subscribe