Wisdom from Science and Philosophy on the General Principles

“Where facts and values meet, vision grows.”

This article brings together insights from a range of disciplines and traditions. Philosophy, religion, anthropology, sociology, economics, political science, biology, and law each show from their own perspective what is needed to make a humane and just society attainable. What binds these perspectives is that they repeatedly return to the same core values:

• Humanity: the duty to see the individual in their dignity.
• Justice: the moral task of limiting inequality and arbitrariness.
• Freedom: the space to make choices, protected by institutions.
• Equality: the guarantee that no one is systematically excluded.
• Fraternity: the recognition that we need one another to flourish.
• Rule of law: the foundation that safeguards these values, regardless of whoever holds power at the moment.

Philosophers and scientists are the signposts of our journey. Rawls teaches that justice is the first virtue of institutions—as if to say a bicycle only moves forward when the handlebars are straight. Sandel points us to the moral choices behind every turn: which road do we take, and why? Graeber and Wengrow show that there are always alternative routes—that society is not doomed to follow a single path. Piketty shows how inequality works like a headwind: one person cycles lightly; another struggles. Together these thinkers give us the gears, the steering, and the signposts we need to sustain the ride. From Rawls to Piketty, from world religions to modern sociology: time and again it turns out that societies are stronger, freer, and more sustainable when they base their institutions and policies on these core values. Philosophy and science are not luxuries, but guides that help us preserve the human scale.

1 Philosophy Affirms Justice: Rawls and Sandel as Moral Anchors

Philosophers such as John Rawls emphasize in A Theory of Justice that a just society is built on the principle of “justice as fairness.” According to Rawls, inequalities are only justifiable when they benefit the least advantaged in society. His thought experiment of the “veil of ignorance” shows that policy is only truly fair when it is designed as if no one knows what position they will occupy. From that perspective, rational people choose a society in which basic provisions, rights, and opportunities are fairly distributed.

Michael Sandel adds in Justice: What’s the Right Thing to Do? that politics can never be merely a matter of technocratic efficiency or individual freedom. It is always also about moral choices and community values: what do we as a community hold dear, what do we protect, and how do we, together, give meaning to justice? For Sandel, politics is also a moral dialogue.

Robert Nozick, in Anarchy, State, and Utopia, sets against this the claim that redistribution violates property rights. For him, any form of compulsory redistribution infringes on individual freedom, comparable to forced labor. But practice shows that freedom without access to basic provisions remains empty. Those without education, healthcare, or housing cannot exercise their freedom. Inequality that goes uncorrected thus undermines the freedom of many to the benefit of a few.

Immanuel Kant offers another foundation. In his categorical imperative he states that we must never treat people merely as a means, but always also as ends in themselves. Justice and public policy must therefore place human dignity first. This idea closely aligns with the principle of human rights: universal rights rooted in the dignity of every person, regardless of origin or status.

Emmanuel Levinas radicalizes this perspective by arguing that ethics begins with the Other: our responsibility lies in the face of the other. According to Levinas, no political or legal order can be just without this primary responsibility for the vulnerable other. This means that policy derives its legitimacy from the extent to which it protects the most vulnerable—refugees, the poor, the sick, the marginalized.

Jean-Paul Sartre, from existentialism, emphasizes the radical freedom and responsibility of every individual. For him, freedom is not a luxury but a given: we are “condemned to be free.” This also means we are responsible for the choices we make and the society we shape. For Sartre, injustice is not merely a structural problem but also an existential challenge: each individual chooses whether to conform to oppression and inequality, or to take responsibility for solidarity and justice.

Amartya Sen and Martha Nussbaum translate this into practice with their capability approach. For them, freedom means not only formal rights, but the real opportunities (capabilities) people have to shape their lives. Without education, healthcare, or social security, freedom remains theoretical.

Claude Lefort points out that democracy is not a fixed system but a dynamic process. The “empty place of power” means power does not belong to an elite, but must be continually legitimized by the people. Inequality and exclusion threaten this dynamic because they concentrate power in the hands of a few and thereby hollow out the democratic rule of law.

The common thread running through all these thinkers is clear: true freedom and justice exist only when human dignity and solidarity are central. Freedom and equality are not opposites but reinforce each other. They require institutions that not only protect the rights of the strong, but also guarantee the opportunities and dignity of the vulnerable.

2 Religions Share Compassion: Core Values Transcend Differences

People find meaning in stories, rituals, and beliefs. Whether religious, philosophical, or secular, they remind us that humanity is rooted not only materially, but also morally and spiritually. A society that leaves room for meaning strengthens connection and respect. Meaning gives people direction, hope, and a sense of responsibility for each other and for the world.

The world religions share core values that transcend politics and lay a moral foundation that can be broadly supported: compassion, care for the poor, justice, and stewardship. Christianity calls: “Whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40)—a radical appeal to place the most vulnerable at the center of society.

In Islam, zakat (almsgiving) is one of the five pillars: solidarity with the poor and vulnerable is therefore not optional, but a core obligation of faith. The Qur’an emphasizes: “Whoever saves one life—it is as if he had saved all mankind” (Surah Al-Ma’ida 5:32)—an expression of universal dignity and connectedness.

Buddhism speaks of karuṇā (compassion) as one of the highest virtues. The Buddha taught: “Hatred is never appeased by hatred, but only by love; this is an eternal law.” Here lies deep wisdom for societies struggling with polarization and division.

In Hinduism, dharma is central: the duty to act justly and bear responsibility—not only for oneself but also for the community and nature. The Bhagavad Gita says: “The highest dharma is that which serves others and causes no harm.” Thus, meaning is linked to active care and justice.

The Catholic Church emphasizes in its social teaching the principle of solidarity and the preferential option for the poor: policy must focus in particular on the most vulnerable. Pope Francis writes in Fratelli Tutti: “We are all brothers and sisters. No one is saved alone; we can only be saved together.”

The Dalai Lama reduces these values to their essence: “My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.” In doing so he transcends religious boundaries and places compassion at the heart of the human experience.

Some see religion primarily as a source of division or as a threat to secular politics. But often this is not about religion itself, but about its misuse for power and exclusion. As the theologian Hans Küng put it: “There will be no peace among the nations without peace among the religions.” When religions and worldviews are addressed in their shared core values, they form a bridge to universal compassion and connectedness.

These core values are not only religious or philosophical; they are also anchored in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR, 1948). Drafted after the horrors of the Second World War, this historic document affirms that all people are equal in dignity and rights—regardless of origin, religion, sex, or belief. Articles such as the right to life (Art. 3), freedom of religion (Art. 18), and equality before the law (Art. 7) reflect the same values found in the great religions and philosophies.

It therefore makes sense to involve religious and philosophical traditions in public discourse—not to make the state religious, but to broaden and deepen the moral basis of policy. In a plural society these shared and universal values—compassion, justice, care, and connectedness—can provide a foundation for a more humane Netherlands, while aligning with the international legal order that protects us all.

3 History Teaches Equality: Anthropology Shows Alternative Social Forms

Anthropological research by David Graeber and David Wengrow in The Dawn of Everything convincingly shows that human societies have never been univocal or linear. The classic narrative—small, egalitarian hunter-gatherers who inevitably developed into hierarchical states—turns out, in their account, to be too simplistic and often ideologically colored. Archaeological and ethnographic evidence shows that humans have always had the capacity to experiment with different forms of living together: horizontal communities with collective decision-making, seasonal alternation between hierarchy and equality, and structures in which power was temporary and revocable. This counters the idea that inequality and authority are “natural” or “inevitable.”

Other anthropologists confirm this picture. Marshall Sahlins noted in Stone Age Economics (1972) the abundance and stability of hunter-gatherer communities, which often had more free time and reciprocal solidarity than modern market economies. James C. Scott, in Against the Grain (2017), showed that the formation of the first states was not necessarily an advance, but often went hand in hand with coercion, inequality, and loss of autonomy. His earlier work, Weapons of the Weak (1985), further showed that even in highly hierarchical societies ordinary people constantly find strategies to undermine or balance inequality.

Elinor Ostrom, Nobel laureate in economics, contributed by proving that communities can manage common-pool resources—such as forests, water, or fisheries—sustainably and democratically, without collapsing into chaos or depletion. Her work runs counter to the “tragedy of the commons” thesis that claims common use always fails without central authority.

Critics often argue that modern, complex societies are too large to be organized horizontally. Yet recent practice suggests otherwise. Citizens’ assemblies in Ireland, on issues such as same-sex marriage and abortion, have shown that deliberative democracy with representative samples of citizens can lead to broadly supported, just outcomes. In Latin America, cities like Porto Alegre (Brazil) developed successful participatory budgeting models in which citizens directly helped decide public expenditures. Across Europe we also see growth in cooperative energy initiatives, citizen climate assemblies, and local food networks—examples of horizontal cooperation within complex systems.

The preferred models therefore emphasize flexibility, equality, and collective responsibility. They are not only historically grounded but also offer realistic alternatives for the future. Anthropology teaches that human freedom lies precisely in our ability to repeatedly reshape our social and political structures. As Graeber put it: “The ultimate hidden truth of the world is that it is something we make, and could just as easily make differently.”

4 Society Stands or Falls with Trust: Putnam and Christakis

Sociologists such as Nicholas Christakis and Robert Putnam show that social cohesion, trust, and networks of reciprocity are the keys to resilient societies. In Blueprint (2019), Christakis describes how cooperation and compassion are deeply rooted in the human species: traits such as empathy, friendship, and reciprocal care are not accidental cultural products, but biological foundations that have enabled our species to survive. Robert Putnam warned in Bowling Alone (2000) that societies which lose their social capital—the web of networks, trust, and norms of reciprocity—fragment and become vulnerable to polarization and distrust. Recent figures from the Netherlands Institute for Social Research (SCP, 2025) confirm this: only 27% of Dutch citizens still trust the House of Representatives—a dramatic decline that makes Putnam’s analysis painfully current again.

Other thinkers likewise emphasize the importance of trust. Francis Fukuyama argued in Trust (1995) that high-trust societies are more successful at building stable economies and democratic institutions. Pierre Bourdieu pointed out that social capital—the networks and trust that connect people—not only creates social cohesion, but also provides access to opportunities and resources. When that capital becomes unequally distributed or is undermined by policy, it increases inequality and distrust.

The childcare benefits scandal illustrates this painfully. For years, thousands of parents—often with a migration background—were unjustly labeled as fraudsters and fell into deep debt and social isolation. This led not only to personal suffering, but also to widespread public distrust toward government and institutions. Citizens no longer felt protected by the rule of law but abandoned by it. This loss of trust echoes on: those who feel treated unjustly by the state disengage more quickly, believe facts less, and are more susceptible to simplistic populist messages.

Cynics claim that societies are driven primarily by conflict, power, and competition. Political thinker Thomas Hobbes saw humans in the state of nature as beings struggling to survive, necessitating a strong state to prevent chaos. Modern empirical research, however, qualifies this picture. Societies centered on cooperation and trust—such as the Scandinavian countries with strong welfare states—prove to be more democratic, stable, and prosperous. Even in conflict regions, studies inspired by Elinor Ostrom show that local cooperation around water, agriculture, or safety often makes the difference between collapse and resilience.

Conflict is inevitable and can even be productive—provided it is embedded in trust and shared values. Without that foundation, conflict leads to disintegration, despair, and cynicism. The childcare benefits affair shows how quickly trust can turn into despair when institutions no longer see citizens as people with rights, but as files and risks. Restoring trust is therefore not a luxury, but a necessary condition for democratic stability. As Putnam put it: “Democracy works better in societies where people trust each other.”

5 The Economy Must Expand Freedom: Sen and Raworth on Real Development

Economic ideas have always profoundly influenced how societies organize themselves. Classical capitalism, as articulated by Adam Smith in The Wealth of Nations (1776), emphasized the power of the free market and the “invisible hand” that would balance supply and demand. The idea was that individual self-interest produces collective benefit. But Smith also warned that without regulation and moral frameworks the strong would dominate the weak. His earlier Theory of Moral Sentiments (1759) underscored that markets must always be embedded in a moral framework of empathy and justice.

Marxist thinkers such as Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels highlighted the flip side of capitalism: the structural inequality between capital owners and workers. In Das Kapital, Marx analyzed how profit-seeking and capital accumulation lead to exploitation and alienation. Although fully planned economies in practice often devolved into authoritarianism, the Marxist critique remains valuable: it exposes how markets can reproduce inequality and how inequality skews political power.

From the 1970s onward, neoliberal thinkers—Milton Friedman and the Chicago School—argued for deregulation, privatization, and free trade, convinced that growth would automatically spread prosperity. Yet recent decades have shown that growth can go hand in hand with rising inequality, financial crises, and ecological damage. The credo “the market will fix it” often proves, in practice, to concentrate power in multinationals and the wealthy elite.

In response, innovative thinkers have proposed alternatives. Amartya Sen emphasizes in Development as Freedom (1999) that real development is not only about economic growth, but about expanding real freedoms: access to education, healthcare, political participation, and social security. Freedom becomes meaningful only when people actually have the opportunities to shape their lives.

Kate Raworth argues in Doughnut Economics (2017) for an economic model that combines social foundations—such as access to care, housing, and equality—with ecological ceilings: the planet’s limits must not be exceeded. Her “doughnut” metaphor shows that prosperity can no longer be measured solely by growth, but by sustainability and human dignity.

Thomas Piketty shows in Capital and Ideology (2019) that extreme inequality undermines democracy and concentrates power in the hands of a small elite. His historical analysis makes clear that inequality is not a law of nature, but the product of policy and institutions. Current figures confirm this trend: the richest 10% hold a very large share of total wealth, while the bottom half owns very little—precisely the pattern Piketty warns about.

So how should we organize our economy? Fully planned economies, as in the former Eastern Bloc, led to bureaucracy and a lack of freedom. Unregulated capitalism leads to inequality, ecological harm, and political instability. The preferred path is therefore a corrected market economy: one in which markets create room for innovation and dynamism, while government corrects injustices and sets boundaries to ecological destruction.

Examples can be found in Scandinavia, where market economies are combined with steeply progressive taxes, strong social security, and sustainable investment. The European Green Deal likewise seeks to connect economic development and sustainability. As Raworth says: “We need economies that make us thrive, whether or not they grow.”

The core truth is that economic choices are always moral choices. Do we want growth at the expense of equality and nature? Or do we choose an economy that balances freedom, justice, and sustainability? The way forward is not to abolish markets, but to reform them. Only by correcting inequalities and respecting ecological limits can the economy contribute to a just and dignified society.

6 Political Science

The French political philosopher Claude Lefort emphasized that democracy is by definition open and unfinished. It lives precisely from contestation, debate, and ongoing correction. Once conflict disappears or debate is stifled, the danger of authoritarianism arises: power is no longer checked but appropriated.

In The People vs. Democracy (2018), Yascha Mounk warns that democracy is more than carrying out the will of the majority. Populist leaders often claim to speak for “the people,” but reduce that people to those who support them. Minorities, independent media, and critical institutions are cast as obstacles. The result is a democracy hollowed out from within.

The call for “strong leadership” sounds tempting in times of crisis. Citizens sometimes yearn for someone who cuts through knots quickly, without endless debates. But practice shows the downside. Hungary under Viktor Orbán and Türkiye under Recep Tayyip Erdoğan demonstrate how democratically elected leaders have systematically curbed the judiciary, independent media, and civil rights.

The dangers are visible in the United States as well. Under Donald Trump, the legitimacy of elections was openly questioned, culminating in the storming of the Capitol on 6 January 2021. That moment made painfully clear that populist leadership, fueled by disinformation and polarization, can lead—even in established democracies—to an assault on the very foundations of the rule of law.

In Russia we see how “strong leadership” ultimately becomes dictatorship. Vladimir Putin initially presented himself as the man who brought stability, but step by step concentrated all power in his own hands. Independent media have practically disappeared, political opposition is muzzled, and the invasion of Ukraine shows how authoritarianism spills outward in the form of war. Where debate and opposition vanish, so do peace and security.

Former U.S. Secretary of State Madeleine Albright warned in Fascism: A Warning (2018): “It is easy to dismiss strongmen until they have already dismantled democracy.” The danger is often insidious: democracies do not always die with one big blow; they can be hollowed out slowly until nothing remains.

An open, critical democracy therefore deserves preference. It may be slower, sometimes messy, and compromises are seldom perfect. But this slowness is not a weakness; it is the guarantee that power cannot be concentrated, that minorities are protected, and that inconvenient facts are not wiped away. Only a democracy that corrects itself, and leaves room for conflict and diversity, can remain durable, just, and humane.

7 The Rule of Law Is Our Shield: Treaties Protect Citizens Against Arbitrariness

International treaties such as the European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) and the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights are cornerstones of the democratic rule of law. They guarantee citizens protection against arbitrariness and abuse of power by their own government and make it possible to enforce rights before an independent court, even beyond the national context. The ECHR has ensured protection in cases concerning privacy, freedom of expression, or a fair trial—even when national governments fell short.

These institutions are, however, increasingly criticized by politicians. Unwelcome judgments from the European Court of Human Rights or the Court of Justice of the EU are dismissed by some as interference in national democracy. Critics argue that international adjudication undermines national sovereignty and obstructs democratically elected parliaments.

But as Eleanor Roosevelt asked: “Where, after all, do universal human rights begin? In small places, close to home.” International protection ensures precisely that rights are not dependent on passing majorities or national whims. Without that external check, citizens would in practice be powerless against their own state.

Legal scholars such as Wim Voermans (Leiden University) point out that respecting constitutional and rule-of-law frameworks is the essence of democracy. Parliamentary majorities are not absolute: they always operate within the bounds of fundamental rights. International treaties add an extra layer of protection, precisely to prevent temporary majorities or populist leaders from hollowing out democracy’s core values.

Other scholars, such as Tom Zwart and Leonard Besselink, have shown that international legal protection often complements national adjudication: the courts in Strasbourg or Luxembourg come into play only after domestic remedies have been exhausted. The notion that the ECHR constantly stands “above” national democracy is a misconception.

There is, at the same time, a fair debate about the legitimacy and democratic anchoring of international courts. More transparency and democratic oversight may be needed. But the alternative—fully retreating from international rights protection—would make fundamental rights hostage to the mood of the day. Sovereignty without rule-of-law safeguards is not freedom but arbitrariness.

Legal philosopher Ronald Dworkin expressed this forcefully in Taking Rights Seriously (1977). He argued that fundamental rights function as “trump cards” in politics: like a trump in a card game, they take precedence over ordinary rules. This means rights cannot simply be pushed aside by a parliamentary majority or political expediency. Even when a majority wants something, fundamental rights can block it because they protect vulnerable minorities against majority power. Without such trumps, rights would be mere favors, dependent on political fashion.

The preferred legal order therefore combines national sovereignty with international rights protection. Nation-states retain decision-making power, but operate within a legal and moral framework that prevents rights being sacrificed to political opportunism. Only then does the promise of the democratic rule of law remain credible: that every person—majority or minority—enjoys protection of their fundamental rights.

8 The Human Being as a Relational Creature: We Cannot Do Without Others

Biology shows that humanity is relational from the very beginning. A baby cannot survive without others: it must be fed, protected, and comforted. Only in interaction with parents and caregivers does it develop attachment, language, and social skills. John Bowlby’s attachment theory and Mary Ainsworth’s follow-up work show how crucial secure attachment is for emotional and cognitive development. Without this relational basis, serious deficits arise in trust, empathy, and self-regulation.

Neuroscience confirms this. Stephen Porges’s polyvagal theory shows that our nervous system needs safety and connectedness as baseline conditions to function well. Empathy and social interaction activate neural networks that enable cooperation. Studies by Giacomo Rizzolatti and colleagues on mirror neurons illustrate that we are neurologically equipped to directly understand the emotions and actions of others. Our brains literally take shape in reciprocity: without interaction they remain underdeveloped.

Critics have long claimed that biology is primarily about struggle and competition—“survival of the fittest,” as is often (and many argue incorrectly) attributed to Darwin. Modern evolutionary biology qualifies this claim. Martin Nowak (Harvard) shows in SuperCooperators (2011) that cooperation and reciprocity are at least as important as competition for survival and reproduction. Primatologist Frans de Waal shows in The Age of Empathy (2009) that empathy, care, and cooperation are deeply rooted in the behavior of great apes and humans. Even in nature, care, cooperation, and solidarity are not exceptions but necessary conditions for the functioning of groups.

From bee swarms to human communities: without care and cooperation the whole collapses. As Elinor Ostrom (Nobel Prize in Economics, 2009) demonstrated empirically in her studies of common-pool resource management, people are perfectly capable of organizing sustainable cooperation—provided there is trust and shared rules.

The conclusion is obvious: even from a biological and evolutionary perspective, values such as humanity, fraternity, and justice are not luxuries or moral add-ons, but conditions of our existence. Where culture, religion, and law normatively anchor these values, biology shows they are deeply rooted in our nature. As Michael Tomasello argues in A Natural History of Human Morality (2016): humans are, from the beginning, cooperative beings oriented toward shared intentions and joint goals.

A person can only become a person through others. That makes connectedness not merely an ethical ideal, but the foundation of freedom and equality. The biological fact that we are relational beings supports the moral and political conclusion that life in society must be based on respect, care, and justice.

9 Synthesis of Perspectives

The various thinkers and disciplines complement one another and together sketch a rich, layered picture of what a just society requires. John Rawls lays the moral foundation with his idea of justice as fairness: inequalities are only justifiable when they benefit the least well-off. His veil-of-ignorance thought experiment forces us to design policy as if we did not know our own position. Rawls thus offers a universal normative compass that reconciles equality and freedom.

Michael Sandel adds that politics is not just about efficiency or the distribution of resources, but also about moral choices and community values. He critiques a purely technocratic approach to politics: a society cannot function if it tries to exclude values and moral convictions. Where Rawls reasons in abstract, universal terms, Sandel places justice in a concrete social and moral context, in which questions of solidarity, loyalty, and shared traditions must not be ignored.

David Graeber and David Wengrow, in The Dawn of Everything, break the fatalistic idea that hierarchy and inequality are “natural” or inevitable. Their anthropological work shows that history contains countless examples of communities that were flexible, egalitarian, and collectively organized. Some societies even alternated seasonally between forms of governance: hierarchy in times of war, equality in times of peace. In this way they support Rawls’s and Sandel’s normative arguments with historical evidence that alternatives are not only thinkable, but have existed.

Robert Putnam and Nicholas Christakis add the social dimension. Putnam shows in Bowling Alone how societies fall apart when social capital—trust, networks, cooperation—erodes. Christakis shows in Blueprint that cooperation and reciprocity are evolutionarily rooted and form the basis of human progress. Their insights connect the moral and anthropological perspectives with empirical evidence: societies with high trust prove more resilient, more democratic, and better able to weather crises. The recent decline of trust in institutions underlines the urgency of their message.

Thomas Piketty contributes an economic layer: extreme inequality is not just morally troubling but politically dangerous. In Capital and Ideology he shows how inequality concentrates power among a few, undermines democracy, and ultimately fosters authoritarian tendencies. His analysis links directly to Rawls’s principle of justice and Putnam’s concern for social capital: trust cannot grow sustainably where the material base is missing. Inequality is not merely an economic issue, but also a social and political threat.

There are tensions and different emphases. Rawls stays within the framework of institutions and abstract principles, while Sandel stresses the indispensability of moral communities and traditions. Graeber and Wengrow convincingly show that societies can be radically different, but their examples raise questions about applicability to complex modern states. Putnam and Christakis emphasize trust and cohesion, but these flourish sustainably only when material inequality—Piketty’s focus—is also addressed.

The synthesis is clear: together these perspectives form a layered compass for a just society. Rawls provides the universal standard of fairness; Sandel, the moral deepening of community values; Graeber and Wengrow, the historical counter-evidence to fatalism; Putnam and Christakis, the social conditions of trust and cohesion; and Piketty, the economic urgency of tackling inequality. Where they clash, they refine each other; where they converge, they affirm that a just society is not only desirable, but possible and necessary.

The interplay of philosophy, anthropology, sociology, and economics shows that justice cannot be reduced to a single dimension. It is morally, socially, economically, and historically embedded. A society that dares to center justice, humanity, and connectedness can combat inequality, rebuild trust, and foster resilience. That is the promise emerging from the dialogue among these thinkers: justice is not a utopia, but an attainable horizon—provided we weave together the lessons from different disciplines.

10 Humanity as a Foundation, Not a Luxury

10.1 Humanity as a Science: Why a Just Society Reflects Our Nature

Taken together, the disciplines—philosophy, anthropology, sociology, biology, economics, political science, law, and religion—show that a humane, just, and empathetic society is not a utopia, but a logical outcome of who we are as humans; and they expose the contemporary threats that run counter to this.

Philosophy (Rawls, Sandel, Kant) shows that justice is not merely about efficiency or power, but a moral imperative: policy must be designed as if we ourselves might occupy the most vulnerable position. Freedom, equality, and dignity are not add-ons, but conditions for a society that remains true to itself.

Anthropology (Graeber and Wengrow) teaches that inequality and hierarchy are not historically inevitable. Societies have always been capable of organizing themselves around equality, solidarity, and collective decision-making. Flexibility and inclusion are not distant dreams but deeply human traditions.

Sociology and neuroscience (Putnam, Christakis, modern brain research) confirm that trust, cohesion, and cooperation are evolutionarily anchored. Without connectedness, societies crumble; with trust, they grow in stability and resilience. Biology shows that a human only becomes human through others—connectedness is not optional but the core of our existence.

Economics (Piketty, Sen, Raworth) shows that inequality is not just about distribution but a direct threat to freedom and democracy. When wealth and power concentrate among a few, many lose their real freedom. A just market economy, corrected by solidarity and public provisions, is therefore essential to make freedom truly universal.

Political science and law (Lefort, Mounk, Voermans, Dworkin) show that democracy is never finished and remains open to debate and correction. International treaties such as the ECHR protect citizens against arbitrariness, including from their own state, and guarantee universal rights. Dworkin aptly called human rights “trump cards”: values that outweigh the majority’s will and thereby form the core of the rule of law.

Religions and spiritual traditions likewise stress that humanity is rooted in compassion, justice, and care for the other. Christianity: “Whatever you did for one of the least of my brothers, you did for me” (Matthew 25:40). Islam places zakat (almsgiving) at its core. Buddhism emphasizes karuṇā (compassion); Hinduism, dharma (righteous duty). Catholic social teaching speaks of human dignity and solidarity as pillars of a just order. The Dalai Lama underscores universal compassion as the basis for world peace. These values align seamlessly with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948), which affirms that all human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights.

Each perspective—philosophical, religious, anthropological, sociological, economic, political, and legal—points in the same direction: a humane, democratic, and just society is not a utopia, but achievable through deliberate choices. Counter-arguments show what alternative paths exist, but also reveal their limits: neoliberal policy widens inequality, authoritarian leadership erodes freedom, nationalist retrenchment undermines rights protection.

The integrated vision therefore deserves preference: it unites values with empirical evidence and combines ideals with practical feasibility. As Rawls put it: “Justice is the first virtue of social institutions.” Justice is not one option among others, but the foundation on which a society rests.

When we bring together the voices from these disciplines, a compelling picture emerges: durable societies are always rooted in the same core values. Humanity preserves the human scale in policy. Justice gives laws and institutions legitimacy. Freedom and equality ensure that everyone is recognized. Fraternity creates social cohesion and resilience. And the rule of law guarantees that these values endure—even against power and arbitrariness.

The evidence shows these are not merely idealistic wishes, but are scientifically, historically, and morally well-grounded. They form the basis on which a more humane Netherlands can be built—and the touchstone against which policy must be tested again and again.

The conclusion is clear: a humane and just society is not a choice of luxury or naivety, but the most realistic choice. It accords with the nature of the human being—relational, empathetic, striving for freedom and dignity—and thus forms the foundation of a sustainable democratic rule of law.

10.2 Why the Real Threat Comes Not from Outside but from Within: Polarization and Inequality Undermine Humanity and Democracy

The threats described in Chapter 3—polarization, the loss of facts, discrimination, the hardening of public debate, declining civic engagement, and a hostile international context—stand in direct opposition to what the disciplines show about the conditions for a humane and just society. Sociologists Robert Putnam (Bowling Alone) and Nicholas Christakis (Blueprint) show convincingly that societies gain resilience through social capital, trust, and networks of reciprocity. Polarization does the opposite: it erodes social cohesion and undermines democratic culture. Where cooperation is evolutionarily anchored, division creates artificial fault lines that weaken society.

According to thinkers such as Amartya Sen (Development as Freedom) and Kate Raworth (Doughnut Economics), policy must rest on facts and rational analysis, not on simplistic slogans. Ignoring scientific knowledge—on climate change or inequality, for example—undermines not only the quality of policy but also trust in institutions. Hannah Arendt already warned that the disappearance of truth from public debate makes citizens vulnerable to manipulation and authoritarianism.

Discrimination, too, strikes at the heart of our society. Philosophers like John Rawls and religious traditions—consider the Christian notion of human dignity or the Islamic obligation of zakat—stress that justice is inseparable from equal treatment. Discrimination against minorities undermines not only equality but also the legitimacy of the democratic rule of law. Yascha Mounk showed in The People vs. Democracy that without minority protection, democracy devolves into tyranny of the majority.

When hardening and enmity dominate public debate, the space for respectful dialogue and compromise disappears. Claude Lefort reminded us that democracy is by definition an open, unfinished debate—but one that must be conducted within a framework of mutual recognition. This is where the practice of Deep Democracy fits: conflicts can be sources of better decisions, provided they are used to truly listen rather than to dismiss one another.

Democracy also requires active engagement. Research on citizens’ assemblies in Ireland and Latin America shows that societies grow stronger when citizens deliberate and help decide. Graeber and Wengrow likewise demonstrated that throughout history many societies were horizontally and participatorily organized. When citizens become passive spectators, democracy loses meaning; where people participate actively, it blossoms.

Against the international backdrop, we see the same pattern. Historians like Madeleine Albright and Timothy Snyder warn that support for authoritarian leaders abroad is closely linked to the weakening of democracies at home. Yuval Noah Harari emphasizes that the central struggle of the 21st century is not primarily between countries, but between democratic and authoritarian systems. When states retreat into nationalism and reject international treaties, they make themselves vulnerable and undermine both security and prosperity.

The conclusion is clear: today’s threats—polarization, slogans over facts, discrimination, hardening, passivity, and isolationism—are not laws of nature, but the result of deliberate choices that run counter to what philosophy, sociology, economics, anthropology, and law show. Every scholarly perspective points in the same direction: durable and just societies rest on trust, facts, equality, dialogue, participation, and international cooperation. Neglect these core values and we cut ourselves loose from what is human and democratic; strengthen them and we build a society that aligns with human nature.

10.3 Humanity as a Compass

The wealth of scientific, philosophical, and moral perspectives leads to one clear conclusion: a humane, just, and empathetic society is no utopia, but accords directly with human nature. Biology teaches that connectedness is a precondition of our existence. Philosophy shows that justice and equality form the foundation of social institutions. Anthropology and history show that inequality is not a law of nature, and that communities have always found alternatives. Sociology and economics confirm that trust, solidarity, and a fair distribution of resources are the keys to resilient societies. And the rule of law, embedded in international human rights, guarantees that these values endure against arbitrariness and power.

To give space to polarization, discrimination, or authoritarian leadership is to set oneself against this broad scientific and moral consensus, and to undermine the human scale. But to center humanity, justice, and connectedness is not only to build a better Netherlands—it is to express what it means to be human. A more humane society is not a choice of luxury, but a necessity—and a promise we can make to one another.