Across countries and at the
global level, the social fabric is fraying, and our standard explanations are
missing the root of the problem. We keep pointing to leaders, polarisation, or
failing institutions, but those accounts stay on the surface. The deeper issue
is one of social psychology.
I apply a social psychological
lens—grounded in a rereading of Freud’s Civilization
and Its Discontents and informed by complexity thinking—to argue
that what is breaking down is our capacity to sustain demanding forms of commitment.
A ‘social psychology of commitment,’ then, is about the patterned ways
individuals and groups experience, tolerate, resist, or withdraw from civil
society obligations under strain.
This current breakdown is
driven, in large measure, by a deeply interdependent globalised world marked by
globalisation’s unequal impacts and failed promises. The consequences for civil
society are no longer quietly accumulating; they are spilling out across
societies in ways that mark a historically significant crisis. We have seen
before how difficult it is to rebuild civil society once it fractures. If we
misread this breakdown as merely an ideological or institutional problem, we
will fail to confront the underlying psychological crisis now shaping our
politics and public life.
For this post I will do the
following:
o
I begin by briefly revisiting my 2019 book, The Defiance of Global Commitment,
written well before the current moment but directly concerned with the dynamics
now coming into view.
o
I then draw selectively on that framework to
apply its central diagnosis to what is unfolding in the United States, both
domestically and in its global commitments.
Still, the post is not just about
the United States. The States certainly holds headline news presently, but the fraying
of our social psychology of civil commitment is happening across the
globe. As such my focus on the States is just one case study – albeit a very
dramatic one – with the hope that others will test this framework’s utility for
other parts of the world. In short, the value of the framework I outline here lies
in its portability: it does not explain events by reference to national traits
or political cultures, but by tracing how commitment strain is organised and
negotiated under specific structural conditions.
THE DEFIANCE OF GLOBAL
COMMITMENT – SELECTED SUMMARY
The Defiance of Global
Commitment is a sustained argument that the central crisis of the
contemporary global order is not best understood as a failure of policy,
governance, or institutional coordination, but as a failure rooted in the
social psychology of commitment itself. The book advances the claim that
globalization has outpaced the social psychological capacities through which
humans historically manage obligation, restraint, and shared responsibility. As
a result, the very commitments required to sustain global civil
society—ethical, ecological, political, economic and social—are increasingly
experienced not as collective necessities, but as intrusive demands that
threaten individual and group-based pursuits of security, status, and
wellbeing. The outcome is not withdrawal alone, but patterned resistance,
backlash, and, in many cases, open defiance and its normalisation.
Working through a critical
rereading of Freud’s Civilization and Its Discontents, the book reframes
discontent as a structurally unavoidable social psychological feature of social
life, rather than a moral defect or ideological error. Civilization, Freud
argued, advances by restricting instinctual freedom, and this restriction
generates resentment, aggression, and resistance.
The present study extends this
insight into the global era, arguing that globalization intensifies this
psychic tension in two key ways. First is the deep global interdependence it
produces, binding economic, political, and social processes across distance and
scale. Decisions made far from everyday life increasingly shape local
conditions, demanding commitments to distant others, abstract systems, and
long-term collective goods under conditions of inequality, uncertainty, and
perceived loss of control. What changes is not the basic drama of commitment
and resistance, but its scale, speed, and stakes.
Second are globalisation’s
unequal impacts and failed promises. Globalisation operated as a promise of
shared benefit that required sacrifice in advance, yet it distributed rewards
unevenly while making the costs of adjustment immediate and tangible. For
many—particularly those lower on the socioeconomic ladder—the promised gains
never materialised. In this context, global obligations were experienced less
as reciprocal commitments than as external demands tied to a fragile and uneven
bargain. The resistance that followed was not a moral failure or
misunderstanding, but a predictable response to a persistent gap between
promise and lived experience.
Across its early chapters, the
book develops a diagnostic vocabulary for understanding how individuals and
groups respond to these pressures. It identifies recurring
orientations—nostalgic retreat, global aggression, affluent resentment, and
forms of defensive in-group and out-group consolidation—not as ideological
positions to be debated, but as patterned social psychological responses to
perceived threats to agency, identity, and recognition. These orientations cut
across political divides, but they do not carry equal consequences. On the far
right, fear of loss is readily transformed into exclusionary politics,
moralised aggression, and the normalisation of violence, directed both at
targeted groups and at the institutions of civil society themselves. Under
these conditions, commitment to pluralism, restraint, and democratic process is
reframed as weakness or betrayal, and aggression becomes a legitimate means of
restoring order. A different-but-similar dynamic appears in liberal contexts,
where symbolic struggles over identity politics, language, and moral standing
offer a lower-cost substitute for confronting material inequality, structural
disadvantage, and steep social gradients—often from positions of relative
privilege. What unites these responses is not moral equivalence, but a shared
function: reducing social psychological strain by narrowing responsibility,
simplifying conflict, and deflecting the deeper demands of genuinely global
commitment.
The analytic core of the book
is its distinction between therapeutic and non-therapeutic power, and between
healthy resistance and unhealthy defiance. Power, the book insists, always
provokes resistance; the critical issue is what kind of resistance emerges,
under what conditions, and in response to which forms of power. Therapeutic
power aims to cultivate insight, responsibility, and collective capacity, even
when it enforces limits. Non-therapeutic power operates through coercion,
humiliation, deception, or moralisation, often while claiming ethical
legitimacy. When global commitments are advanced primarily through
non-therapeutic means—especially under conditions of inequality and loss of
voice—resistance predictably shifts from defensive and corrective forms toward
denial, scapegoating, and aggression.
By treating these reactions to
global commitments as intelligible rather than inexplicable, the book provides
a framework for understanding why global civil society remains both necessary
and perpetually unstable, and why efforts to sustain it repeatedly collide with
the limits of human psychology under conditions of unequal globalization.
So let’s see if this framework can hold up to what is happening in the
States, again as only one case study.
APPLYING THIS FRAMEWORK TO
WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE STATES
Civil society is perpetually unstable because it presses against the
limits of human social psychological capacity in a globalised world of deep
interdependence and unequal impacts. Participation in global civil society
requires restraint, tolerance of ambiguity, and commitment to distant others
under conditions where benefits and burdens are unevenly distributed. Some
individuals, groups, and institutions can manage this strain, at least
intermittently. Others cannot.
What distinguishes our present
globalised and highly interdependent moment is not that this limit has suddenly
appeared. It is that those who experience global commitment as intolerable are
increasingly able to shape political agendas, institutional trajectories, and
public narratives.
This capacity does not reside in leaders and elites alone – who often benefit
massively from globalisation. In most
of the global West, political authority operates through negotiated ordering:
what leaders can do, sustain, or get away with is constrained by what those
they govern will tolerate, endorse, ignore, or quietly accept.
Everyday social psychological thresholds therefore matter.
Civil society weakens not only when leaders undermine institutions, but
when large numbers of people withdraw their willingness to sustain demanding
commitments in daily life—through indifference, compliance, selective outrage,
or active support for narrowing obligation.
Seen this way, current conflicts around civil society are not well
captured by simple stories of democracy versus authoritarianism. What we are
witnessing instead is a struggle over how much commitment can reasonably be
demanded, and who gets to decide when that demand has gone too far. This
struggle plays out unevenly, often within the same societies and institutions,
producing patterns that appear contradictory only if we assume civil society is
a single, shared object rather than a social psychologically uneven demand.
In the United States, the Trump
administration’s 2025–2026 challenges to NATO and the United Nations, alongside
proposals treating Greenland’s sovereignty as negotiable, have been widely
contested. But they have also found significant pockets of tolerance—and
occasional enthusiasm—because they resonate with an already present scepticism
toward multilateral obligation and alliance commitments. For those citizens in
support, the United States’ responsibilities within global civil society have
come to be experienced as onerous obligations imposed in the name of others’
interests: a system of restraint perceived as serving a distant transnational
elite rather than the national in-group. Under these conditions, pushing back
against multilateral institutions does not register as destabilising global
order so much as resisting repression.
What matters analytically is
not the accuracy of this picture, but its social psychological plausibility.
Europe is not a unified liberal bloc, nor are its states interchangeable. The
United Kingdom’s withdrawal from the European Union, Denmark’s initial
hesitations over military support for Ukraine, and persistent domestic conflicts
over immigration, welfare, and sovereignty all point to internal fractures that
sit uneasily with any image of a coherent ‘transnational elite.’ Yet these
complexities do little to disrupt the underlying resentment narrative. From a
social-psychological perspective, such narratives function not to describe
reality, but to simplify it—to compress heterogeneous actors and institutions
into a single external force against which resistance feels justified.
In this context, challenges to
NATO, scepticism toward the United Nations, and gestures that treated
territorial norms as flexible operated as outward-facing expressions of a
deeper social psychological withdrawal from global commitment. They signal a
refusal of restraint framed as self-defence: a reclaiming of agency against
obligations that now felt excessive, moralising, and asymmetrically
distributed. That these moves risk undermining institutions from which the
United States also benefits did not weaken their appeal. On the contrary, it
reinforces their symbolic power as acts of release from a global order
increasingly experienced as psychologically oppressive. As Freud long noted,
such contradictions are not incidental: under conditions of perceived
constraint, individuals and groups will often accept—even embrace—self-damage
if it promises release from an order experienced as asymmetrically benefiting
others.
This logic also applies
domestically. One prominent example in 2025–2026 lies in domestic practices
associated with U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), which relies
heavily on in-group/out-group distinctions to normalise harsh enforcement,
detention, and sanctioned force. Policies
that inflict harm on refugees, minorities, or marginalised groups are rarely
defended as cruelty. They are justified as realism, protection, or necessity.
Once participation in civil society is experienced as an unreasonable
psychological burden, limiting compassion and narrowing responsibility can feel
not like moral failure but like common sense. Support for such measures is
sustained not only through coercion, but through widespread accommodation.
Domestically, what is at stake is
not immigration alone. For those drawn toward nostalgic retreat, nationalism,
or similar defensive orientations, civil society itself comes to be experienced
as an intolerable social psychological burden—an overextended demand for
restraint, pluralism, and global obligation. In response, civil society is
rewritten not as a shared space of negotiation and restraint, but as a
legitimate source of coercive power: a means of enforcing order against those
who insist on maintaining commitments that now feel unbearable. In this context,
the rights of immigrants, refugees, and citizens engaging in nonviolent protest
are no longer recognised as upholding civil society but are recast as obstacles
to order. Sanctioned force is thus redirected inward, not as an aberration, but
as a social psychologically intelligible attempt to resolve the strain of
global and civic commitment by narrowing who and what civil society is for.
This helps explain why undermining civil society can focus on empowering
a defiant social psychology. Commitment can be narrowed without being
disavowed. Obligations can be reinterpreted rather than rejected. Restraint can
be recast as naivety, care as overreach, and solidarity as self-harm. These
shifts matter not because they are rhetorically clever, but because they align
with what many people can psychologically carry. Leaders articulate these
framings, but their durability depends on whether they resonate with everyday
experiences of strain, loss, and resentment.
Crucially, these dynamics do
not produce uniform retreat. Survey evidence across the United States and Europe
consistently shows divided publics: support for
humanitarian values and democratic norms often coexists with endorsement of
restrictive or coercive domestic policies, particularly around migration,
protest, and security. The point is not moral inconsistency, but psychological
management. Commitment strain is negotiated across domains, narrowed where
tolerance is exceeded, and maintained where demands remain bearable. However, many people experience the erosion
of restraint itself as intolerable. As defiance bleeds out across society, in
this case the States, resistance reappears in the form of protest,
institutional defence, and demands for civility and humanity to be restored.
These responses emerge from the same negotiated order. They signal that
withdrawal has gone too far, that the social costs of undermining now exceed
the psychological relief it provides.
COMING FULL CIRCLE TO WHY THIS ARGUMENT MATTERS GLOBALLY
What this perspective
ultimately clarifies is why the present moment in the States (and more
globally, across a lot of the world) feels both volatile and unresolved. Civil
society is not collapsing in a single direction, nor stabilising through
consensus. It is being stretched, resisted, defended, and narrowed all at once
as individuals and institutions confront the psychological limits of global
commitment. Even under
more equitable forms of globalization, the demands of global interdependence
and global civil society would remain psychologically taxing; the issue is not
whether strain exists, but whether it becomes corrosive or manageable.
Those who find these limits intolerable now have greater capacity to drive
agendas that reduce obligation and legitimise withdrawal—because enough people,
in everyday life, are prepared to live with the consequences.
The task, then,
is not to imagine a world without resistance to civil society, but to recognise
that its instability is structural, negotiated, and ongoing—and that how
societies manage these limits will determine whether commitment is contained,
distorted, or progressively undone.
CONCLUSION
In summary, this analysis shows
how social-psychological limits on commitment can be traced across countries
and regions—not by attributing outcomes to national character, ideology, or
leadership, but by examining how obligations are experienced, negotiated,
resisted, and narrowed under specific structural conditions. Offered as a starting point,
the United States case examined here warrants careful comparative extension to
other national and regional contexts where global commitments are being
renegotiated under different institutional, cultural, and historical
conditions.