Breach Of (Social) Contract

About a third of us – and this is across the board, not just in the US or any particular demographic group, which we’re going to discuss in a minute – are openly and proudly rejecting every lesson of human history about the futility and waste of tribalism and isolation and fear of the “other,” and are enthusiastic to proclaim their refusal to recognize or cooperate with any so-called “social contract.”

I’ve observed many times in the past that in any time and place where there are large enough groups of people to form governments, about a third of the people in question are perfectly willing, or at least easily convinced, to throw the rest of them under any available bus if they think doing so will get them laid, paid, or praised.

Clearly and for good reason on this day, the second of Donald Trump’s second term as US President, there’s a lot of frustration and trepidation and anxiety about what the future will bring, as well as a quite reasonable incredulous outrage at the idea that somehow there are 80-odd million people in this country stupid and evil enough to vote for him.

We need to talk about that, both in terms of the risks it presents to our own integrity and in terms of how to address the emergent and exigent situation that has, as of noon eastern on Janyar 20, 2025, successfully ended American democracy, and is doing the same to democratic countries all over the world.

First I want to talk about this “social contract” thing and where it comes from and what it means.

What is the “Social Contract?”

Formally in philosophy and political science the “Social Contract” is a theory with roots going back to the Greek sophists, and the first real description and labeling of which is usually credited to philosopher Thomas Hobbes (for whom that adorable tiger is allegedly named, incidentally), with Locke, Rousseau, and others following up and developing and applying various high-minded philosophical concepts focusing largely on the broad ideas of individual liberty versus the utilitarian and ethical demands of functioning on a planet which also features other humans (or forms of life at all, for that matter; cf. Bentham “does it suffer?”)

In popular and informal use outside of academia, political science (and that weird subset of “m’lady” guys who think that being a verbose sanctimonious dull-witted boor somehow makes it better), the “social contract” refers to the very broad range of human activities and institutions, formal and informal, written and unwritten, from governments to handshakes, express or implicit, that generally tend to facilitate humanity not boiling down into a perpetual stew of hostile warring tribes.

Clearly, it’s not a cure-all or some binary condition under which, once met, Society Functions Properly. It’s just the label we give to that set of ideas and systems and institutions and philosophies that say we’re generally not going to run around trying to hurt each other because that’s stupid and causes the whole species to evolve and progress more slowly.

Governments and laws are one functional expression of that social contract, mechanisms by which people can be informed of and held to account for respecting the million little things that go into keeping us from collapsing into a frothing mob.

We all agree to drive within the lines. If you don’t agree but insist on doing it your own way, you’ll be sanctioned. If you’re not aware of that clause in the social contract and violate it through ignorance…well first and foremost you’re probably driving without a license but also you might face a less punitive sanction that includes an educational component – go learn to drive and get a license before you try it again on public roads.

So that’s what four years of political science classes taught me about what this “social contract” really is. Now let’s talk about why we need it.