Toward a Just, Empathetic, and Sustainable Society

 

1. Toward a Just, Empathetic, and Sustainable Society

Imagine a young woman cycling through The Hague, past the Hofvijver and the buildings where laws and decisions are made. It seems an everyday image, yet it carries a deeper meaning: freedom of movement, safety in public space, the self-evidence that she can choose her own path. This simple scene is both a symbol of what makes our country great—and of what is at stake.

The Netherlands is built on values that are more than political slogans: humanity, justice, freedom, equality, solidarity, and the rule of law. We must not regard these values as self-evident truths, but as mandates that must be realized again and again. They form the foundation of a society in which people do not stand against each other, but with each other.

In this essay, Vital Moors explains how we can build a society together in which connection, empathy, and human rights take center stage. He writes this book in a personal capacity, out of a deep moral responsibility to contribute to a more just and humane Netherlands.

As a senior legislative lawyer, I have worked for years at the intersection of legislation, politics, policy, and fundamental rights. My expertise in areas such as housing, international treaties, and human rights has taught me not only how laws function, but also how vulnerable they are when political will and social support erode. My motivation, however, goes beyond technical knowledge. It is rooted in a moral responsibility. I believe a society can only be humane and just when human rights are not merely a paper norm but a lived practice. That requires constant commitment: from institutions, from politics, and from citizens.

I see it as my task to contribute to a society in which justice, empathy, and humanity are central, and in which the democratic rule of law is not merely a legal construct but a living fabric that protects us all. As John Rawls put it: “Justice is the first virtue of social institutions.” Without justice, laws lose their legitimacy and society its foundation.

Yet more and more people feel that this foundation is wobbling. Polarization, populism, and mistrust set us against one another. Problems such as the housing shortage, inequality, and climate change are too often reduced to battle cries or slogans, when they require joint solutions. Politics sometimes seems more like a spectator sport than a shared search for justice.

This essay sets out an alternative: a vision of a more just and humane Netherlands. A Netherlands that not only solves problems but is guided by a moral compass. Where freedom does not mean that everyone lives for themselves, but that everyone has the space to live their life with dignity. Where equality is no empty promise, but becomes visible in affordable housing, good healthcare, and equal opportunities. Where solidarity is not an old-fashioned word, but the concrete experience that we do not let each other go.

With this premise, this essay invites both reflection and action. It is not a blueprint but a signpost. The chapters that follow build out this story—drawing on philosophy and science, on concrete political and social examples, and with an eye to the international context. The rule of law is the supporting structure: it protects our rights, limits power, and guarantees that the weak are not delivered to the arbitrary will of the strong. In a time of growing pressure on democratic institutions—from The Hague to Brussels—holding fast to this foundation is more necessary than ever.

Yet it begins with that everyday image: a young woman on a bicycle. She reminds us that the values we cherish are not abstract but tangible and human. It is about her freedom, her safety, her future—and thus about all of ours.

What does it mean today to live in a democratic rule-of-law state? And how do we ensure that freedom, justice, and humanity do not become empty words, but tangible reality?

With insights from philosophy, sociology, law, economics, and political theory, this book shows how a humane democracy is possible—and how we can realize it. From fair opportunities and citizen participation to climate and international cooperation: the challenges are great, but the solutions are within reach.

CORE VISION: TOWARD A HUMANE NETHERLANDS

A humane Netherlands is a society in which every person counts—regardless of origin, faith, gender, or income. It is a country where freedom, equality, and solidarity are not merely words from the past but daily practice. Where justice is the foundation of legislation and governance, and where the democratic rule of law is not only a legal framework but a culture of trust, dialogue, and respect.

In this Netherlands, facts stand above slogans, and we always connect economic choices to human dignity and ecological boundaries. We do not see diversity as a threat, but as a source of strength. We recognize that a just economy, fair opportunities in education, housing and care that are accessible to everyone, are not luxuries but prerequisites for freedom.

This is a vision that does not resign itself to polarization, mistrust, and short-term thinking. It offers a perspective of connectedness, responsibility, and hope. For a society is only truly free and strong when no one is excluded and every person can live in dignity.

Imagine a Netherlands where children, regardless of their background, have the same chances to pursue their dreams. Where neighborhoods are safe and connected, where diversity does not divide but unites. A country where we can be proud of our freedom and our solidarity.

A humane Netherlands requires conscious choices—by politics, by society, and by each individual. Together we can build a future that is just, sustainable, and humane.

This is a call to dialogue, responsibility, and hope. Because a humane Netherlands begins with all of us.

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2. Humanity Under Pressure

“Freedom without connectedness turns cold.”

Humanity is not a luxury: the human scale as a starting point

On a rainy morning in The Hague, a young woman cycles to work. She was born here; her parents came to the Netherlands in the 1980s. She studies medicine, wants to help others, and contribute to society. On the way she reads comments under an article about migration: “Send them all back.” Suddenly she feels like a stranger in her own country. Not because she has changed, but because the society around her seems to be growing harder, more hostile, and less welcoming. While we all want the human scale to be the starting point.

Freedom, equality, and solidarity—what used to be called brotherhood—are the pillars of a humane Netherlands.

This image is sadly recognizable. It shows how polarization and mistrust hollow out our democracy. Where freedom once meant that everyone could be themselves, it is now too often misused to exclude others. Where equality held the promise of equal opportunity, we see ever-wider divides. Where solidarity stood for connectedness, we see growing division. And where the rule of law is meant to protect everyone, some now call it into question.

At the same time, structural problems such as climate change, the housing shortage, and social inequality demand choices that reach beyond short-term interests. Justice in this context means that burdens and opportunities are fairly distributed—that the strongest do not simply prevail, but that every person can live in dignity. Humanity requires that we never forget, in policy and politics, that behind the numbers are people with dreams, families, and vulnerabilities.

Justice as foundation: laws and policy lose legitimacy without a moral compass

The core values that have shaped our country—humanity, justice, freedom, equality, solidarity, and the rule of law—are not abstract ideals. They rest on moral choices. Laws and policies lose their legitimacy without a moral compass. They are the compass that can guide us in a time of uncertainty. This essay is written from the conviction that now, of all times, we must ask: what kind of society do we want to be?

The answer does not lie in cynicism or polarization, but in rediscovering our shared values. A just and humane Netherlands requires that we reconnect ourselves to this compass—in policy, in governance, and in daily life together.

2.1 The urgency of a new social compass

Dutch society in 2025 is under pressure. Polarization divides citizens into ever sharper camps. Populist rhetoric and the success of far-right parties sharpen antagonisms. Social media amplify hate and disinformation. Meanwhile, the major structural issues are insufficiently addressed in an integrated way.

That is why a new social compass is necessary. A direction rooted in the values of empathy, justice, freedom, equality, and solidarity. A society in which the democratic rule of law is not only defended formally, but lived daily in policy, governance, and civic norms.

This document is written from that conviction. It brings together what philosophers, religious traditions, sociologists, economists, and political scientists teach us. It translates these insights into concrete proposals to strengthen our democracy. And it shows that change is possible not only from the top down but also from the bottom up—by linking political reform, social engagement, and individual responsibility.

2.2 Invitation

This text is not a blueprint but an invitation—an invitation to think, to debate, and to act together. Not to resign ourselves to cynicism or polarization, but to build a just, empathetic, and humane society.

As Václav Havel said: “Responsibility begins with yourself, in your immediate environment, with the choices you make every day.” This document aims to contribute to that shared responsibility.

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3. The Threat of Division

“Democracy is not a spectator sport.” —inspired by Barack Obama

The Netherlands—and many other democracies—faces a series of complex, interconnected problems. Polarization, populism, discrimination, and attacks on institutions may look like separate phenomena, but in reality they touch the foundations of our common life.

When freedom is used to spread hate, it becomes a weapon against others. When equality is hollowed out by structural inequality or exclusion, democracy loses credibility. When solidarity gives way to enemy-thinking, the bonds that connect us fall away. And when the rule of law is attacked, citizens lose the anchor meant to protect them.

The essence of the current crisis is therefore not only political or economic, but moral: the values of humanity and justice are under pressure.

3.1 Polarization erodes trust: division frays the social fabric

A first great challenge of our time is growing polarization and the loss of dialogue. The 2024 European elections clearly showed how populist parties such as PVV, AfD, and RN gained ground. This is more than a political shift; it signals that polarization puts the democratic rule of law under strain. Public debate increasingly degenerates into a struggle between “us” and “them.”

Instead of listening and seeking nuance, groups retreat into their own bubbles. We see this not only in the climate debate—where activists are too often dismissed as naïve extremists and critics immediately branded “climate deniers”—but in many other public discussions as well.

In the migration debate, asylum seekers are cast as a threat to our provisions, while their actual numbers are relatively small and the Netherlands has international obligations to offer protection. The nuance that migration can also have economic and social value is thus snowed under.

We see the same pattern in discussions about LGBTI+ rights. Where equal marriage or gender diversity once marked steps forward in freedom, they are now reframed as a “threat to traditional culture.” Young people who identify as LGBTI+ consequently feel increasingly unsafe at school or in their neighborhood.

Science, too, has become a battleground. Scientists who point to climate change or inequality are dismissed as ideologues, while others seeking nuance are instantly labeled conspiracy theorists. The space for what matters—the open conversation about facts, potential solutions, and shared responsibility—disappears.

This division frays the social fabric. When groups see each other only as opponents, we lose the capacity to work together on the problems that affect us all: affordable housing, a liveable planet, a just society.

It does not have to be this way. Diversity of perspective is not a threat but a source of enrichment. The climate debate can be stronger when activists, scientists, entrepreneurs, and critical citizens talk to one another. The migration debate can become more realistic when we acknowledge both the concerns about integration and the opportunities migration offers. And conversations about identity and equality become fruitful when we recognize that differences do not separate us but show how broad humanity can be.

The challenge of polarization calls not for more slogans but for more dialogue. A democracy does not flourish by shouting each other down, but by the capacity to tolerate differences, understand one another, and make joint choices. As Hannah Arendt wrote: “Plurality is the law of the earth. We live together with and among others.”

The French thinker Claude Lefort warns that this is dangerous exactly because democracy is based on the ongoing conflict—and conversation—among different voices. He calls democracy an “empty place of power”: no single group holds a monopoly on truth or power, and therefore public debate must remain open and inclusive. When that openness disappears, democracy loses its essence.

If we embrace plurality, we can find our way back to a society that does not fall apart into camps, but grows stronger through the multiplicity of voices and stories.

3.2 Facts are losing to slogans: the hollowing of truth in the public sphere

Populist slogans are like sudden thresholds or unexpected gusts that throw the cyclist off balance. They are loud, often catchy, but they help no one move forward. Facts, by contrast, are the straight path: solid, reliable, passable—so we can keep our course. Only by letting ourselves be guided by data, careful analysis, and honest debate can we keep pedaling toward a society built not on fear but on truth.

The young woman on the bicycle—symbol of commitment, hope, and future—deserves a road that is passable, without every bend being blocked by distortions or half-truths.

Populist leaders know how to mobilize voters with powerful but simplistic slogans. Complex problems are reduced to seemingly simple solutions. The migration debate is a clear example: the cry “close the borders” suggests a ready-made fix, while reality is far more layered. The Netherlands is bound by international treaties, such as the Refugee Convention and the European Convention on Human Rights. Moreover, labor migration is economically important: from healthcare to agriculture, a substantial part of our economy relies on people from abroad. A closed border sounds forceful but is practically and legally unworkable—and would weaken rather than protect our country.

We see the same mechanism in the housing shortage. Populist parties often put migrants and status holders forward as the main reason why young people or first-time buyers cannot find a home. But the facts show that the housing crisis is primarily the product of years of inadequate building policy, liberalization of the rental market, and fiscal advantages for investors. Migrants comprise only a fraction of housing demand. The problem is misframed: it was not the newcomer, but decades of policy that created scarcity.

Climate change is likewise a favorite target of populist slogans. Lines such as “climate madness” or “we don’t care about the climate” ignore the hard facts presented by scientists worldwide. The consequences of inaction are real: floods, extreme weather, rising food prices. Reducing a global challenge to a punchline is not only misleading; it is dangerous.

In the integration debate, similar tactics are used. Muslims are cast as a threat to “Dutch culture.” Proposals to close mosques or ban Islamic education are cheered, but drip with discrimination and conflict with our Constitution. These are pseudo-solutions that fix nothing while intensifying polarization.

Forgotten in all this is that diversity is an enrichment. Migrants, refugees, and people with different cultural and religious backgrounds bring new perspectives, knowledge, and creativity. Our universities thrive thanks to international students and researchers. The healthcare sector keeps running thanks to labor migrants. In art, music, cuisine, and sport, diversity’s contribution is indispensable. The notion that “otherness” is a threat misses the very fact that in differences lies our shared strength. As writer Amin Maalouf puts it: “Identity is not a prison, but a crossroads.”

Even healthcare does not escape simplistic framing. When staff shortages or waiting lists increase, the accusation quickly arises that “foreigners” overburden the system. In reality, studies show that migrants often work in healthcare themselves, and that the greatest problems lie in structural staff shortages, aging, and cutbacks. Here, too, diversity is not a burden but a condition for keeping the system running.

Populist slogans are attractive because they speak to emotion. They offer foothold in uncertain times—but it is a false certainty. Behind the hard words, the substance is missing. Facts may be less spectacular, but they offer the real tools to move forward.

Political scientist Cas Mudde describes populism as a thin ideology that works with the opposition between “the pure people” and “the corrupt elite.” The problem is that this line leaves no room for nuance or compromise. Michael Sandel warns that politics, when reduced to marketing and slogans, loses its moral dimension: “Politics is not only about what works, but also about what is right.” Where facts point the way, justice can grow—without truth there is no trust.

As a society we must choose: do we let ourselves be led by the short gust of the slogan, or by the firm road of facts, reason, and the recognition that diversity makes us stronger? Only the latter guarantees that the young woman on the bicycle can reach her future—in a society built fairly, humanely, and sustainably.

3.3 Discrimination undermines equality: attacks on minorities strike at the core of the rule of law

In this climate, far-right movements and discriminatory ideas are gaining space. They exploit social discontent by stigmatizing minorities and calling fundamental rights into question.

Muslims, for example, are regularly portrayed as a threat to Dutch culture. Political parties advocate closing mosques, banning Islamic schools, or curtailing religious freedoms—measures that directly contradict the Constitution. This creates an image of Muslims as second-class citizens, even though they have been part of our society for decades.

LGBTI+ people are also under fire. Rights that were previously struggled for and won—such as same-sex marriage and protection against discrimination—are being questioned again. Young people sometimes do not dare to be open about their orientation or gender identity for fear of bullying or violence. This undermines their safety and security.

We also see that women are still treated unequally—from the pay gap to sexism in public space. The idea that women are worth less, or should have less say in political decision-making, is maintained—often subtly, sometimes openly.

Other minorities, such as caravan-dwellers or people with a migration background, face structural stereotyping. They are depicted as a problem group or a security risk, leading to exclusion in work and housing.

The danger is the gradual normalization of the notion that some groups have fewer rights than others. This undermines not only the position of those directly affected, but also the foundations of our democratic rule of law. Today it is Muslims or LGBTI+ people who are attacked; tomorrow it may be another group—perhaps even you.

Jürgen Habermas emphasizes that the democratic rule of law is built on the recognition of equal worth. When certain groups are systematically excluded, the basis of reciprocal respect disappears. Hannah Arendt likewise warned that denying rights to minorities is the first step in hollowing out the rule of law itself, because it gives up the universality of rights.

3.4 The hardening of public debate

A direct consequence is the coarsening of public debate. The tone grows harsher, in politics and on social media alike. Journalists, scientists, and politicians face threats and abuse. Debates on topics such as nitrogen policy or vaccinations illustrate how factual information is easily displaced by opinions and conspiracy theories.

In public debate we increasingly hear the claim that Islam is a religion that preaches apartheid, supremacy, and violence against non-believers. Politicians, pundits, and social-media accounts repeat this claim over and over—often without context, knowledge of Islam, or regard for social consequences. The result is a picture of Islam as an inherent danger—not only untrue, but dangerous.

Anyone who actually reads Islamic sources finds something very different from the caricature often sketched. The Qur’an says, for instance: “O humankind, We created you from a male and a female and made you into peoples and tribes so that you may know one another. Truly, the most noble of you in the sight of God is the most righteous of you.” (Qur’an 49:13)—a clear rejection of racial segregation and supremacy. The Qur’an also emphasizes that faith is a free choice: “There is no compulsion in religion.” (Qur’an 2:256). Violence is mentioned only in the context of self-defense, not as a mandate for aggression. Qur’an 5:32 even states: “Whoever kills a person—except as a punishment for murder or for spreading corruption on earth—it is as if he killed all mankind; and whoever saves a life, it is as if he saved all mankind.”

The idea of the “dangerous Islam” is not new. It is rooted in centuries-old Orientalist stereotypes from the time of the Crusades and colonial domination, when European powers portrayed the Islamic world as barbaric to legitimize political and military confrontation. In modern times this image has been fed by terrorist attacks, geopolitical conflicts, and media attention that highlights mainly negative incidents. Politicians then use these fear images to mobilize voters, as in Samuel Huntington’s “Clash of Civilizations” thesis, which presented religious cultures as inevitably colliding.

The reality in the Netherlands is different. Muslims make up about 6% of the population, have lived here for decades, work, study, do business, and vote. Research by the SCP and the Ministry of Social Affairs shows that more than 90% of Dutch Muslims endorse the democratic rule of law and that the vast majority believe religion and state should remain separate. There is no evidence of a coordinated attempt to replace Dutch law with Islamic law. The idea of “Islamization” is therefore not a fact but a political myth.

Stigmatizing Muslims is not a harmless opinion—it is discrimination. And discrimination always has consequences. Those continuously depicted as suspicious, dangerous, or inferior are more likely to withdraw into their own circles. Excluded groups become more susceptible to extreme messages, especially via social media. This mechanism does not affect Muslims alone. Today they are targeted; tomorrow other minorities may be—LGBTI+ people, caravan-dwellers, or any group that deviates from a supposed “norm.”

When politicians frame Islam as a danger, they are really aiming at the democratic rule of law itself. They replace facts with emotion and fear, undermine equal rights, and normalize the idea that exclusion is legitimate. The warning of German pastor Martin Niemöller after the Second World War remains current: “First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist… Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.”

The real danger is not Islam, but the systematic spread of fear and mistrust by those who reap political gain from it. Our freedom, our security, and our humanity depend on one principle: equal rights and dignity for everyone. Discrimination is never normal. Fear must never be our guide.

Stigmatization and discrimination profoundly affect minorities such as Muslims in daily life. Those who are repeatedly cast as “other” or “dangerous” face exclusion in work, housing, education, and social relations. This undermines not only their sense of safety and self-worth, but also their trust in society.

A greater danger lurks: those who are continually excluded may withdraw into their own circles and become more susceptible to extreme messages via social media or radical networks. Exclusion can thus become a breeding ground for extremism.

Sociologist Zeynep Tufekci shows how social media amplify this dynamic: algorithms reward extreme expressions because they generate more attention. Hate becomes normalized and constructive voices are drowned out. The danger, as Timothy Snyder argues in On Tyranny, is that truth loses its role as a common anchor: “Without truth we cannot trust each other. Without trust, democracy is impossible.”

In a civilized, just, and humane society, freedom of expression must not only be protected within constitutional limits; it should also meet ethical standards oriented toward fostering harmony, respect, and others’ wellbeing. The right to speak must be paired with the responsibility to use words carefully and respectfully, so they do not cause harm or division, but contribute to a more just and peaceful society.

3.5 Democracy is not a spectator sport: without engaged citizens it loses meaning

This dynamic ultimately puts the democratic rule of law under pressure. Where political polarization begins with words and frames, it often ends with direct attacks on the pillars that uphold our society. Independent institutions—such as the judiciary and the free press—are increasingly attacked or openly questioned. Politicians propose, for example, to set aside international treaties such as the European Convention on Human Rights, or to overrule judges politically when their rulings displease. Thus the principle of separation of powers—a foundation of democracy—risks being hollowed out.

We do not see this in the Netherlands alone. In Hungary and Poland, judicial independence has been put under pressure by governments appointing or dismissing judges on political grounds. In the United States, judges were openly labeled “enemies of the people” during election campaigns when they issued unwelcome rulings. In Turkey and Russia, the free press has virtually fallen into government hands, silencing critical voices and giving citizens only one narrative.

Calls for “fewer judges and more politics” are heard more often in the Netherlands as well. That may sound democratic—the will of the people should lead—but in reality it is dangerous. It is precisely the judge who protects minorities from the tyranny of the majority. Without independent judges, the rights of Muslims, Jews, LGBTI+ people, or other minorities could easily be abolished by a simple parliamentary majority. International treaties after the Second World War were established precisely to prevent that kind of abuse of power.

The same applies to the press. When journalists are dismissed as “biased” or “fake news” whenever their reporting is unwelcome, trust in the fourth estate disappears. But a free press is essential to hold power to account and expose abuses. Without press freedom, scandals such as the child-benefit affair or mismanagement in public administration would never have come to light.

The strength of a rule-of-law state lies in the fact that power is limited. Not because politicians or citizens should not have a voice, but because democracy is more than majority rule. Democracy is also about equality before the law, protection of the vulnerable, and a free public sphere where facts and criticism keep power in check. As Montesquieu said: “Power must check power.”

Undermining institutions may seem like a shortcut to swift political gain, but in truth it is a path leading to less freedom, less protection, and less mutual trust.

Hungary’s example—where Viktor Orbán systematically curtailed the independent judiciary and media—shows how quickly democracy can slide toward what Fareed Zakaria calls “illiberal democracy”: elections remain, but the rule of law and minority protections vanish. John Rawls would see this as a fundamental danger to his principle of “justice as fairness”: institutions should be designed to protect the weaker from the majority’s arbitrariness.

Democracy sometimes feels like a race you watch from the curb while politicians cycle past. But like cycling, democracy only works if you move yourself. Stop pedaling and you fall over. Citizens are not spectators but co-stewards of the bicycle on which we move forward together. Elections are not the end destination but a waypoint. Only if we also think, speak up, and help decide between elections will the bicycle stay upright and democracy stay alive.

Our society is not monochrome but a mosaic. Diversity is not a threat but a source of strength and creativity. A humane Netherlands values differences as part of a shared story of freedom and equality.

Democracy is not kept alive by rules alone, but by the human willingness to participate and take responsibility.

3.6 International context

These domestic developments are reinforced by the international context. The rise of authoritarian leaders and movements worldwide is a wave that also affects Dutch democracy. In more and more countries, human rights, the rule of law, and international cooperation are under pressure. Russia under Vladimir Putin has become a system in which opposition is silenced, press freedom does not exist, and aggressive war policy is the norm. In Turkey, President Erdoğan uses emergency laws, censorship, and mass arrests to suppress dissenting voices. Hungary under Viktor Orbán shows how a democracy can be hollowed out by stealth: through controlled media, the dismantling of independent universities, and the systematic restriction of minority rights.

These examples show that democracy is not self-evident. What seems solid today can be fragile tomorrow. History teaches that democratic institutions often do not disappear in a single blow, but gradually: freedoms are restricted step by step, opponents are vilified, checks and balances are dismantled. This is dangerous precisely because citizens grow accustomed to it and begin to see the shifts as normal.

Historian Yuval Noah Harari rightly argues that the great struggle of the 21st century is not so much between nations as between democratic and authoritarian systems. While democracies struggle with internal polarization and mistrust, authoritarian leaders openly support one another. Russia and China form alliances, Turkey interferes actively in conflicts at Europe’s borders, and even within the EU we see governments shielding each other when the rule of law is violated.

For an open, internationally connected country like the Netherlands, this development is particularly dangerous. Our security depends on international cooperation within NATO and the EU. Our prosperity rests on trade, mutual agreements, and the trust that treaties are upheld. When democracies weaken and authoritarian powers grow stronger, the likelihood increases that the Netherlands becomes isolated. In a world where cooperation gives way to power politics, both our security and our prosperity are at stake.

Authoritarian systems draw strength from the division of democracies. Polarization, mistrust, and attacks on institutions make countries vulnerable from within. A divided society is less resilient against foreign pressure, propaganda, and disinformation campaigns. We see this in Russian influence operations in Europe and in the use of social media by regimes that deliberately stoke division.

The international context thus shows that our domestic struggle against polarization, hate-mongering, and the undermining of institutions is not merely a matter of domestic politics, but of geopolitical necessity. Only by strengthening the foundations of our democratic rule of law can we remain standing in a world where authoritarian alternatives grow louder.

3.7 Interlinkages and reinforcement

These problems are not isolated phenomena; they are closely interconnected. Polarization paves the way for simplistic populist messages. Populism legitimizes discrimination and creates enemy images, which further coarsen public debate. We see this in the framing of Muslims as a “threat to our culture,” in the stigmatization of LGBTI+ youths who simply want to be themselves, or in the dismissal of climate activists as “criminal extremists.” In that heated atmosphere, it becomes ever easier to portray institutions that set limits or are critical—judges, scientists, independent media—as obstacles that supposedly oppose “the people.”

As this process unfolds, international authoritarian developments provide a blueprint and moral support for domestic currents seeking to weaken the rule of law. When Orbán in Hungary brings media and judges under control, or Erdoğan in Turkey imprisons opposition figures, these examples serve populists in the Netherlands as proof that it can be done here as well. It normalizes the idea that freedoms and rights may be subordinated to political power.

Thus a vicious cycle emerges: polarization leads to simplification, simplification to discrimination, discrimination to hardening, and that hardening ultimately to pressure on the rule of law. Each element feeds the next, deepening the crisis. This dynamic is not an abstract danger—we already see it in growing social division, in calls to scrap treaties, and in diminishing tolerance for critical voices.

This vicious cycle is ultimately an attack on the core values that sustain our country. Freedom without equality becomes arbitrariness. Justice without humanity becomes cold policy. Solidarity without the rule of law sinks into blind nationalism or arbitrary loyalty. It is the values together that make a democracy strong—not one isolated principle, but their balance and mutual coherence.

The common thread is declining trust—trust among citizens, trust in politics, trust in facts and expertise, and trust in the institutions that sustain society. As Robert Putnam wrote in Bowling Alone: “Social bonds and trust form a society’s social capital. Where they disappear, communities lose their resilience.” Without trust, differences become threats where once they were sources of cooperation and innovation. And without that resilience, democracy loses its foundation.

Restoring trust and coherence is therefore more than a political task; it is a moral choice. Do we want to hold fast to a society built on humanity, justice, freedom, equality, solidarity, and a strong rule of law? Or do we allow these values to crumble under the pressure of hate, fear, and cynicism?

This problem analysis makes one thing clear: preserving our core values is not a luxury or idealistic daydream, but a precondition for the survival of a just and humane Netherlands.

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4. Freedom, Equality, Solidarity

“Only in relation to the other does a human become fully human.” —loosely after Levinas

The problems described in chapter three may feel overwhelming. But they are not inevitable. For each problem there are alternatives that return us to the core values on which our society rests.

• Humanity calls for restoring dialogue and mutual respect.

• Justice calls for an economy that counters inequality and shares opportunity fairly.

• Freedom means that citizens make their voices heard without fear or exclusion.

• Equality requires that all groups—regardless of background or status—can truly participate.

• Solidarity becomes concrete in initiatives that strengthen mutual support and cooperation.

• And the rule of law is the anchor that ensures these values are protected—even in difficult times.

The alternatives discussed below—from deliberative democracy to a just economy and international cooperation—are therefore not merely technical fixes. They are ways to reconnect with the values that make our society humane.

4.1 Dialogue restores trust: conversation as a counterforce to polarization

Fostering conversations among diverse groups in society is essential. In a time of rising polarization and mistrust, we need places more than ever where people truly meet. This requires creating spaces—physical and digital—where citizens can speak with one another in safety, without fear of stigma or exclusion.

Dialogue initiatives such as citizens’ assemblies, neighborhood conversations, and interfaith encounters have repeatedly proven that they can bridge divides. In citizens’ assemblies, randomly selected citizens deliberate together on complex themes, such as climate or healthcare. In interfaith gatherings, people meet across boundaries of belief and discover that values like respect, justice, and compassion connect them. Neighborhood dialogues bring residents together around local issues such as liveability or safety, fostering not only understanding but also concrete solutions.

Dialogue works only if citizens are taken seriously. If opinions are dismissed as “stupid,” “extreme,” or “irrelevant,” that merely confirms the existing divide. Only when people experience that they are truly heard does trust arise—and the willingness to listen to others.

Imagine citizens not only voting once every four years, but having a structural voice via citizens’ assemblies, neighborhood conversations, or public hearings. That would be a democracy that not only exists formally, but also lives. A society in which people do not feel powerless, but know that their concerns and ideas matter.

An inspiring method here is Deep Democracy. It is a decision-making approach that does not stop at the will of the majority, but actively seeks what minorities bring. The premise is that all voices are heard. In practice this means first collecting all opinions, concerns, and doubts; then exploring why people think what they do; and only then deciding. The majority often carries the decision, but the concerns of the minority are integrated.

That way, decisions gain more support and conflicts become sources of better choices and stronger bonds. A neighborhood decision on traffic safety or housing, for example, can satisfy the majority while also addressing a smaller group’s specific concerns. The result: policy that unites rather than polarizes.

A society that makes room for such dialogue is stronger and more resilient. Where polarization builds walls, dialogue builds bridges. Where exclusion feeds mistrust, inclusive decision-making shows that differences are not a threat but a source of wisdom.

Examples include the G1000 citizens’ summit, where lottery-selected citizens co-create solutions to public issues. Political scientist James Fishkin notes that deliberative democracy leads to more understanding and more balanced choices precisely because citizens learn one another’s perspectives. Habermas’s theory of communicative rationality underscores that democracy functions only when citizens recognize one another as equals in conversation.

4.2 Facts over slogans: building policy on knowledge and research

Policy must be based on reliable data and scientifically grounded analysis. A society can only be just and humane when policy rests on a solid foundation of facts and knowledge. Where that foundation is absent, emotions, slogans, and imagery take over—undermining not only rational decision-making but the democratic rule of law itself.

In a time of polarization, fake news, and framing, it is crucial that citizens and politicians can rely on independent knowledge. When facts are structurally questioned or dismissed as “opinions,” society loses its shared frame of reference. Debate then becomes one where the loudest voice matters more than the best-argued one, and fear-images gain more power than reality.

That is why sustained investment in knowledge institutes and independent journalism is necessary. Statistical offices (like Statistics Netherlands, CBS) and Eurostat play a key role. Their figures reveal the reality behind political slogans: how many homes are really built, how many migrants arrive each year, how the economy develops, what climate change entails. Without these numbers, policy choices cannot be tested and public debate floats on rhetoric.

Independent research institutes (SCP, PBL, CPB, WRR) provide crucial analyses of trends, scenarios, and long-term developments that force politicians to look beyond the day-to-day. Their reports form the quiet backbone of policy that aspires to be fair and forward-looking.

Universities and universities of applied sciences are indispensable as generators of new knowledge, critical analysis, and the professionals who keep society running. They are also free spaces for debate and counter-argument, where ideas are tested and renewed.

The free and independent press is likewise essential. Investigative journalism and fact-checking ensure citizens have access to well-grounded information and that political choices are scrutinized. In a democracy, journalism is not a luxury, but a necessary counter-power.

To strengthen this foundation, concrete steps are needed: bolster plan bureaus’ independence and funding; make government data more accessible and comprehensible through open-data portals; enhance European cooperation for uniform, reliable statistics; fund fact-checking initiatives; and equip citizens’ assemblies with a clear knowledge base from independent experts.

Thus we build a society where facts rise above slogans and policy is not merely the product of power and emotion, but of careful weighing and justice. As John Dewey argued: “Democracy requires an informed public; without facts, politics becomes manipulation.”

4.3 Inclusion strengthens democracy: no voice may be missing

Democracy grows stronger when all groups have a voice. That requires more than formal suffrage: it also means actively removing the barriers that hinder participation. For many people, those barriers are real and tangible—language, lack of civic knowledge, or deep-rooted mistrust stemming from discrimination or bureaucratic mistreatment.

An inclusive democracy calls for accessible information (in plain language and multiple languages), civic education about how decision-making works, transparency that can restore trust, and visible role models in politics and administration.

When barriers are removed, democracy shifts from a system for citizens to a community of citizens. People feel ownership, and decisions gain legitimacy. As Nelson Mandela said: “To deny people their human rights is to challenge their very humanity.” In our time, that means: no one may be excluded from political participation.

Initiatives such as Stem op een Vrouw and local participation projects in Amsterdam and Rotterdam show how specific groups can be better involved. Alexis de Tocqueville already emphasized that democracy’s strength lies in active citizen participation. Amartya Sen adds that inclusion is not only a moral duty, but leads to better decisions because more knowledge and experience are brought in.

4.4 Justice is economic too: sharing burdens and opportunities fairly

CBS figures show that wealth inequality in the Netherlands is growing sharply. In 2025, the wealthiest 10% hold nearly 65% of total wealth, while the bottom half of households together hold less than 2%. The inequality is greater than many think: not only incomes but buffers and security are extremely unevenly distributed.

This gap limits individual opportunity, undermines trust in democracy and the rule of law, and fuels political instability and populism. Structural inequality can be reduced through targeted reforms: fairer taxation of wealth and capital, curbing multinationals’ fiscal loopholes, and lowering the tax burden on labor.

A strong social security system is indispensable—not only as a safety net but as a springboard (income support, unemployment benefits, child benefits, student finance). Investing here means investing in stability and trust.

Access to affordable essentials is crucial: healthcare, housing, education. Without these, inequality persists across generations. As Rawls argued, inequality is acceptable only if it benefits the least well-off. That is not the case today.

Kate Raworth’s Doughnut Economics offers a model: meet human needs within planetary boundaries. Amartya Sen emphasizes that true development expands real freedoms. Thomas Piketty shows that uncorrected inequality concentrates power in a small elite and corrodes democracy.

4.5 Climate connects generations: sustainability as a source of solidarity

Climate policy can divide—but also unite. If we emphasize shared responsibility and fair distribution of costs and benefits, broad support is possible. Justice means the strongest shoulders carry the heaviest burdens, and no one is excluded from the benefits.

Examples abound: Danish community ownership of wind projects; German energy cooperatives; Dutch local energy initiatives. Climate policy then becomes a source of connection, ownership, and shared gains—not only a cost.

Humanity means caring for the earth that carries us. Climate policy is a responsibility toward future generations. As Laudato Si’ puts it: “The earth is our common home.” A humane society treats climate action not as a burden to be divided, but as a shared investment in hope, justice, and the future.

Germany’s Energiewende shows how citizens, cooperatives, and municipalities can actively participate. Bruno Latour reminds us: “We are all in the same boat, whether we like it or not.” That insight can be a source of solidarity.

4.6 Reforming the digital and media landscape

Freedom of expression today also requires protection against digital manipulation. Social media algorithms shape opinion; deepfakes blur truth and falsehood. Europe’s Digital Services Act is vital to set limits, demand transparency, and reduce amplification of hate.

We need clear rules and transparency on why we see particular posts or ads; constraints on microtargeting based on fears or vulnerabilities; and strong, independent journalism to fact-check and investigate. Freedom of expression is not a license for manipulation, but a guarantee of a public sphere grounded in truth, reason, and mutual respect.

As Justice Oliver Wendell Holmes noted, the “free trade in ideas” presupposes a fair marketplace—not one polluted by disinformation or algorithmic distortion.

4.7 International cooperation and human rights

As a mid-sized trading nation, the Netherlands can play a key role in strengthening the international legal order. The Hague hosts the International Criminal Court, the Peace Palace, and many institutions built on the conviction that law must be stronger than power. This tradition entails responsibility: defend human-rights treaties and contribute to peaceful conflict mediation.

Economic interests must not blind us to fundamental freedoms. Consistent commitment to human rights builds credibility and influence. The EU is indispensable: only together can small states set standards, uphold rights, and use economic weight as leverage for just relations.

As Madeleine Albright warned in Fascism: A Warning: relativizing or ignoring human rights opens the door to authoritarian abuses—within countries and in international relations. Claude Lefort likewise emphasized that a state undermining fundamental freedoms saws at the roots of its own legitimacy.

For the Netherlands, the task is clear: as an international hub of trade, law, and diplomacy, it can build bridges between power and right. By placing human rights at the heart of cooperation, and investing in diplomacy and mediation, we strengthen both the world order and our own security and prosperity.

4.8 Coherence and perspective

Together, these alternatives counter the vicious cycle that threatens our democracy. Where polarization breaks trust, humanity can restore it. Where discrimination undermines equality, inclusion can re-anchor it. Where inequality breeds cynicism and discontent, justice can offer hope. Where attacks hollow out democratic culture and facts, the rule of law protects citizens. And where short-sighted self-interest drives us apart, solidarity—better: connectedness—holds us together.

A humane Netherlands also bridges the generational gap. Affordable homes for starters, good care for the elderly, and a sustainable pension system are not separate files but concrete expressions of the same solidarity.

Elsewhere, inclusive migration policies can protect refugees and fairly distribute responsibilities; tax and social-security reforms can bolster opportunity and stability; a fair energy transition can create new bonds and shared ownership; and transparency and independent journalism can protect democratic dialogue from digital manipulation.

All of this is about restoring trust: in one another, in facts, in institutions, in international cooperation. As Rawls’s “veil of ignorance” reminds us, a just society is one we would choose without knowing our own position—compelling us to design policies that work not only for the strong majority but also for the vulnerable minority. It could have been us.

The thread is clear: only by making our core values our starting point again—humanity, justice, freedom, equality, connectedness, and a strong rule of law—do dialogue, facts, cooperation, and solidarity get another chance. Then we gain not only a political program, but a coherent moral perspective—a vision that reaches beyond the day’s headlines and gives direction to a society in which every person counts.

As Claude Lefort wrote: “Democracy lives by keeping the space of difference open.” That is precisely what a humane Netherlands can be: a society that bears differences, does not fear conflict but turns it into better decisions, and in which solidarity is not a burden but a shared strength.