The problem of what precisely the relation of law and liberty is, and whether they are indeed in an uneasy relationship, is a vexing one. If we accept an account of law which simply sees it as a product of force, of sovereign will, then it is easy to conceive how law might stand in opposition to liberty. Here we might consider that if law simply gets its authority from the collective, then in it the ‘social beast’ stands in an overbearing posture over any individual human being. I submit, however, that, considered in themselves, law and liberty are not in opposition to one another. I hope here to explicate a view which presents them as complementary. In this respect, consider the remarkably rich reflection of Simone Weil on the question in her essay, ‘En quoi consiste l’inspiration occitanienne?’
She wrote –
“Purity in public life means the completest possible elimination of everything which is force, that is to say, of everything collective, of everything which proceeds from the social beast […]. The social beast alone possesses force. It exerts it as a crowd, or deposits it in certain men or in one man. But law, in itself, possesses no force; it is only a written text and yet it is the sole bastion of liberty. The civic spirit that conforms to this Greek ideal, to which Socrates was a martyr, is perfectly pure. […]”[1]
There are two essential elements here which we must consider. First, the fangs of force which the social beast bears against individuals. Second, the dispassionate, logical light of the law, in itself inert, appealing to the rational will of individuals. I will consider them in turn.
What then does Simone Weil mean when she opposes the ‘social beast’ to law and liberty? She is, of course, referring to an aspect of our social being and we must be careful not to misstate what she means here to prevent distorting her view entirely. Her view assumes that human beings need social life as an essential element of their ordinary fulfilment. This living socially “is impossible without constraint. But there are many forms of constraint”, she wrote in another place.[2] Of these many forms of constraint some support the development of ‘spiritual values’, in the sense of the ‘em-bodiment’ of fundamental and objective values in the life of humans,[3] which is their fulfilment. So, effective constraint in social life is predicated upon the internal constraints accepted and em-bodied by individuals by their internal assimilation of values, which constraining precedes their further growth. I suppose this resembles the external supports used to stabilise a plant, that it may effectively grow.
That values must be em-bodied for humans to find fulfilment is a truth widely recognised, since at least the days when the Pentateuch was composed and the immortal words “man does not live by bread alone” spoken,[4] and later when Plato made his Mediterranean travels. However, whereas some contexts may support the em-bodiment of values, “others kill these values.”[5] So, Weil continues,
“By a sort of miracle, in a given country, at certain times, there arise forms of social life which do not kill by constraint that delicate and fragile thing which is the medium that favours the development of the soul. It requires a social life that is not too centralized, and laws to control arbitrariness, and in so far as authority is necessarily arbitrary, a willingness to obey which allows of submission without humiliation.”[6]
Thus, social life, is not essential in idea to any given individual’s liberty, for they may well exercise liberty in defiance of oppressive social norms, and such examples abound, one being Franz Jägerstätter who resisted even the slightest speck of association with the odious German regime in the Second World War. This granted, it remains true that, social life being an essential characteristic of man, the social animal, this aspect of his existence will affect the exercise of his liberty. I assume here that all the aspects of an individual human, including his social being, are integrated and inseparable such that an imbalance in one part will affect the whole; man may be made of many pieces, but these come together to form one integral composition as does a mosaic. Indeed, this social life is the medium in which human development occurs, inasmuch as human beings exist socially as fishes exist in the sea: we are not isolated creatures – this should be obvious from ordinary experience alone. But here social life serves the particular human being, and the human being is not subordinated to the whims of the collective, which has no rights in itself but only in relation to the fulfilment of the particular human beings in it.
It is precisely because of the essentiality of social life to human nature, that it can, and among an imperfectly virtuous community often does, degenerate into what Weil calls the ‘social beast’. It is described so negatively because it bears external force upon the individual. Whereas human beings have inherent to their being liberty by which they organise their affairs and may achieve their happiness by the em-bodiment of values in their lives, the social beast brings to bear force to impose its own wishes. These may align with the truth or not, but the very mode of force is itself untrue for it defies the proper ordering of man to truth: which must be freely chosen to be em-bodied; only thus can ‘spiritual values’ enter a human being. Force thereby contradicts human nature, which demands liberty for its full realization. The force exerted by the social beast also upturns the inherent order of relations by placing the nameless collective over the particular human being, whereas it is the human being in himself for whom social life exists. This upturning of relations can be achieved only by force, a force contradictory to human nature, and therefore to human flourishing.
It is from this perspective that the relationship of the free human being and law may be seen. For law controls arbitrariness in external conduct. It thereby creates a form of external order wherein free beings may live a harmonious social reality. Yet, in a sense it is itself arbitrary. In the nature of things, there is no reason why a certain thing be prohibited at the level of the State and why another tolerated, or, where the object is intrinsically indifferent (think, for example, differences in tax code procedures) why one method be chosen over another. In this sense, human law requires an prudential judgment and even a certain rational arbitrariness where sometimes sovereign will itself must suffice in the absence of a first-order reason.
But what of its relation to a free subject? It is simple for man to impose his will on iron, for he simply needs to apply force to it with a hammer. Force, however, is not the appropriate and ordinary mode of governing a creature free by its nature, and thus governing itself, for that is an infringement of its very nature. (I do not need to enter here the problem of punishment, which is related to this statement.) So, the only way for law to be consistent with human nature, and human development, is for it to be freely obeyed, at any rate, at least when the people have achieved a stage of development where they can make a rational choice. Just as a child is not left to govern himself, so liberty in relation to law itself requires a moral and intellectual formation – an education – to be properly exercised, and is gradually grown into by stages of emancipation. In England, which presents an extraordinary example of just this development, the idea of policing by consent is an excellent case where this free obedience may be observed: the power of the police, the officers of the law, comes from the common consent of the people, “as opposed to the power of the state”.[7] This is precisely what Weil means by the “civic spirit” throughout her mature works, a liberty in harmony with rational laws and all directed towards the em-bodiment of values.
So it is quite true to say that, “law, in itself, possesses no force”.[8] In itself, it is simply the written word and can appeal only to our own rational will to seek its realization in actions. It motivates obedience from the citizen because of what it is in itself, the rational ordinance of the public authority which the citizen, as a free human being, has consented to. I mean consent here not simply in the sense of the mechanics of government, but at the level of human nature. By the virtue of loyalty and the oaths of citizenship[9] (either expressly made when naturalised, or implicitly binding upon birth), the liberty of the human being consents to obey the laws of his land. Even the outsider may consent to obey, in view of the rationality of obedience to the law as a necessary condition for order and thus happiness among the people among whom he sojourns. Where force is required in an imperfect state of affairs, where vices prevail, it is only admitted with reluctance as a concession and a necessary evil. It is only, for example, because the laws are first consented to that the derivative police are instituted, predicated upon the free consent of the people to the law, and not upon the force that the State wishes to exert, to curb immature persons who have not even begun to live in liberty, properly defined. So it is that law thus conceived is the sole bastion of liberty. For, to be truly itself, liberty must be rational and thereby support human happiness, the flourishing of human beings. If liberty were just the naked ability to exercise force one way or another apart from reason, it would be the kin of tyranny from which it would be separated only by the relative size difference in its sphere of control from that of tyranny. Likewise, law severed from reason is the creature of tyrants and the rationale (though not rational) of their forceful subjugation of the polity.
From this angle, law and liberty are inextricably linked, and mutually condition one another. They both, however, are directed towards reason, which governs all as the standard by which the truth of our nature, and thus our fulfilment as human beings, is judged. Anything else is an exercise of mere power and a degradation of law and liberty, and the exaltation of pure arbitrariness, which oppresses man, asphyxiates the conditions of social life supportive of liberty, and defiles law by turning it against its very purpose as a rational ordinance supporting the growth of human beings. Thus it is that the social beast is the enemy of freedom, even whilst social life is the key medium wherein liberty is fully realized.
[1] Simone Weil, Selected Works: Selected Essays, 1934-1943 (trans. Richard Rees, Wipf & Stock 2015) 51
[2] Ibid, 79
[3] cf. Donald Nicholl, Simone Weil, God’s Servant, 31 Blackfriars [1950] 364-372
[4] Deuteronomy 8:4; cf. Matthew 4:4
[5] Simone Weil (n1) 79
[6] Ibid 80
[7] Home Office, ‘FOI release: Definition of policing by consent’ (10 December 2012) <https://web.archive.org/web/20260207144117/https://www.gov.uk/government/publications/policing-by-consent/definition-of-policing-by-consent> accessed: 13 February 2026, archived from the original: 07 February 2026
[8] Simone Weil (n1)
[9] Ibid, 80
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