We don't own the Tug

You’ve probably heard of the game of tug-of-war. In this game, participants split into two teams and pull against each other to test their strength. The team that overpowers the other emerges victorious.

The teams may change, but the rope—the tug—remains central to the game. Each new group of players uses the same rope to test their strength and aim for victory.

But what happens if the tug itself becomes the prize? When the rope becomes the object to win rather than the tool to play the game, the entire dynamic changes. It no longer serves the new participants but instead undermines the very purpose of the game.

This is similar to what happens when democracy is reduced to a struggle over the vote itself rather than a means to determine leadership. When the “tug”—the vote—stops serving the game and instead becomes something to own or control, the essence of democracy is compromised.

A tug serves its purpose only when it remains part of the game, not the property of the players. Likewise, a vote fulfills its role only when it belongs to the democratic process, not to those who seek to possess it.

When a king doesn't believe in throne and Citizen doesn't believe in vote: It is red flag for civilization

The throne has always been one of the most coveted positions in human civilization. History is filled with the dark things people have done in pursuit of it—riots, wars, uprisings, betrayals. Yet despite all this wickedness, the throne still stands as a symbol of civilization. It commands respect because it grants authority to those who sit on it, giving them the power to govern. Whether that governance is good or bad, the throne makes the concept of governance real—an idea that has helped humans move toward civilization.

You often hear stories of people fighting to claim the throne or weaving conspiracies to seize it. But rarely in human history do you find someone plotting not to gain the throne, but to destroy it—someone who sees the throne itself as the source of society’s corruption.

Such a person may have countless reasons to reject the throne, but this raises a deeper question: What alternative can sustain a civilized world? Without a throne—without a seat of governance—how does a society organize itself? It becomes the responsibility of the critic not only to point out the flaws but to propose a path forward.

A parallel can be seen today in how people are losing faith in democracy. Many begin to view the vote, a fundamental gift of democracy, as an obstacle to their ideal vision of a world unrestrained by rules and regulations. But once the vote is taken away or abandoned, what remains to keep society feeling civilized? Or have people grown so tired of pretending to fit into a civilized mold that they prefer to behave “authentically,” even if it means abandoning the appearance of civilization?

Whatever the case, when a king loses faith in his throne, or when a citizen loses faith in the vote, it marks a dangerous moment for any civilization. When we stop striving to progress as a society, we begin to lose the very essence of being civilized.