The Origins of Political Order: From Prehuman Times to the French Revolution

In Francis Fukuyama’s work, you won’t find straightforward, oversimplified conclusions or a dry list of important dates and names.

Fukuyama offers not a study of political order in the abstract, but rather how and why such an order emerged specifically among people. How, over the course of history, people—with their "hardwired" sociality, tendency to adhere to norms, capacity for abstract theorizing, and emotionality—built certain political institutions.

Reading The Origins of Political Order reveals the deceptiveness of the phrase: "That’s just how history unfolded." Nothing unfolded on its own. People shaped it, influenced by factors—including chance.

As you progress through the book, you constantly find parallels with psychological or psychotherapeutic work.

The author removes the past from its pedestal of untouchability while emphasizing the importance of understanding the past for the present: "Countries are not forever bound to their past. But… what happened… continues to exert a serious influence… If we seek to understand the functioning of modern institutions, we should look at their origins, including the often random and contradictory forces that gave rise to them" (p.).

He repeatedly reminds us to consider context: "Political development in the modern world occurs under conditions fundamentally different from those that prevailed up to the end of the 15th century" (p.). He also highlights that the same words (terms) can carry different meanings, making comparisons invalid (what I call the "dictionary problem"). In this case, Fukuyama notes that when comparing the formation of the state in ancient China and Europe, we must recognize that definitions like "feudal" and "rule of law" had entirely different meanings in each context. Similarly, applying modern property rights theory to historical situations can lead to "fundamental misunderstandings."

Failing to recognize cultural differences—or assuming that what is "self-evident" to me is equally obvious to others—can have dramatic consequences. In the political realm, these can be tragic. Fukuyama describes the bewilderment and genuine incomprehension of the U.S., where leaders believed that removing a dictator in Iraq would automatically establish democracy. Yet "the Iraqi state essentially dismantled itself."

Discussing the mental models that help people cooperate and survive, Francis Fukuyama asks: "Why do people impose on themselves theoretical constructs so rigid and difficult to change?" (p.). In seeking an answer, he turns to emotions—arguing that they are the foundation of people’s adherence to rules. "They imbue fixed rules with transcendent meaning and value. They invest so much emotion in following norms that it can appear irrational—from the perspective of expected utility" (p.).

Moreover, people infuse emotions into the rules governing how rules are formulated and enforced. And if these "meta-rules"—what biologist Robert Trivers calls "metanorms"—are violated, we may exhibit what he terms "instructive, moralistic aggression."

From a psychological standpoint, The Origins of Political Order could be labeled "For Adults Only." The author systematically challenges deeply held beliefs—such as the idea that achieving something (or winning) automatically leads to lasting change without further effort. Fukuyama writes: "There is no reason to believe that once a political order is established, it can maintain stability indefinitely and without obstacles." We studied examples from past millennia in school, but the grim reality of our century cannot fail to move us. Fukuyama examines the crisis of democracy.

He notes that from 1970 to 2010, there was extraordinary growth in democracies worldwide. This transformation was driven by "striking social change… millions of previously passive people around the world organized and joined political life in their societies." This activism arose from many factors, including psychological ones. It seemed progress was inevitable—yet it reversed course. "The first signs of a clear retreat from democratic achievements appeared in countries like Russia, Venezuela, and Iran…" (p.).

The book also examines contemporary events—not long past from a historical perspective. It is both useful and, in a way, strange, to read a detached analysis of what has actually happened in our country and in our lives. Or to consider what is sufficient—and what is not—when it comes to "the passions between protesters and opponents of democracy" in Ukraine.

An individual approach: "The experience of one country is not necessarily a good guide for development elsewhere" (p.).

Critical thinking and healing from megalomania: "Assuming you fully understand the true thoughts of great thinkers is always risky" (p.).

In exploring the formation of the state in different parts of the world and the varied paths to statehood, Fukuyama challenges another persistent belief: that significant change can be achieved quickly. References to eighteen centuries (in one chapter) have a sobering effect.

The author does not accuse humanity of forgetfulness. Instead, he approaches the unconscious desire to avoid pain with understanding: "The struggle to create modern political institutions was so long and painful that people in developed countries suffer from historical amnesia regarding how their societies reached their current state."