The debate on the future of our free speech culture and democracy has been thrusted into overdrive by the recent assassination of Charlie Kirk. We may draw the early conclusion that the price of social peace is conscious, everyday self-censorship: not saying what we truly think—or at least not as sharply as we feel it. This may seem like a small sacrifice, but in reality it slowly and inevitably breeds tension.

Since the age of modernization, humanity has been experimenting with creating the “good state.” Yet even Plato and Aristotle pondered what makes a state just, stable, and a place where people can live in peace and prosperity. Centuries, even millennia have passed since then, and the world has still not reached an idyllic, utopian condition. History seems to prove time and again: the stronger our attempts to redeem the world, the more they end in tragedy. Great revolutions, wars fought in the name of “ultimate truth,” and experiments in social engineering have all resulted in bloodshed, dictatorship, or complete collapse.

After the two world wars of the 20th century, the Cold War, and the fall of totalitarian ideologies, many concluded that moderate democracy is the only viable alternative. Not because it is perfect, but because everything else has proven far worse. Compromises, the system of checks and balances, the limitation of power, political pluralism, and the rule of law together create the possibility of living in peace — even though the system will never be flawless. But what is the price we pay for this? After all, nothing in the world comes free.

The Paradox of Moderate Democracy

The essence of moderate democracy is that no one can truly win. No ideology may rule with absolute power, for that would endanger freedom and peace. Every political force must therefore restrain itself and open up to its opponents if it wishes to govern. Yet this logic extends beyond parliamentary walls: it slowly permeates all layers of society, meaning that citizens themselves must continually exercise moderation. They cannot be fully authentic in public life, because the community rejects extreme positions.

The price of social peace is thus everyday self-censorship: not saying what we truly think—or at least not as sharply as we feel it. This may seem like a small sacrifice, but in reality it slowly and inevitably breeds tension.

Human beings are by nature passionate creatures. Their emotions, beliefs, and worldviews are sometimes intense — even extreme. If these passions are not allowed to find expression but must constantly be held back in the name of “reasonable moderation,” an explosion will eventually occur. This is the paradox of the moderate democracy: it seeks to avoid extremism but ends up creating the very conditions for extremism. Frustration grows, and people increasingly feel they have no real chance to change things, that compromises are suffocating them. And when society tips past a critical point, peace and dialogue no longer matter — what matters are erupting emotions.

The political radicalization of recent years, the deterioration of online discourse, and the polarization of public life are all signs of this process. The dissatisfaction bubbling beneath the surface eventually bursts out—not necessarily in the form of revolution, as has happened so many times in history, but in everyday aggression, the breakdown of communities, and the collapse of dignified, respectful political dialogue.

This phenomenon is not new. Looking back through history, we can see that every moderate era was sooner or later replaced by a wave of extremism. The rationality of the Enlightenment was followed by the explosion of revolutions; the 19th-century bourgeois democracies were swept away by the totalitarian ideologies of the 20th century; the liberal optimism of the post–Cold War world is today giving way to new populisms and authoritarian ambitions.

It seems societies are unable to maintain a moderate state for long. Peace and compromise themselves seem unstable, because people cannot remain satisfied forever with half-truths, with compromises, with the calm but unfulfilling security of the middle road. Societies appear just as incapable of staying in lasting equilibrium as economies do. Social cycles seem to follow one another just as economic cycles do.

The question then is: how can the order of the moderate democracy be maintained without society drifting into extremes? There is no simple answer. Some argue that education, the development of critical thinking, and strengthening the culture of public debate are the keys. Others believe that economic prosperity and social justice can help reduce frustration.

But perhaps we must accept that the price of the moderate democracy will always be tension — just as the price of economic growth is inflation.  (Just as inflation, tension can be moderated through state interaction – this is how we arrive at the dawn of a moderate(d) democracy – at least in the online world.) We cannot entirely eliminate the fact that people will, from time to time, desire radical change, and that accumulated frustration in society must be dealt with. The real question is whether we can channel these desires peacefully within democratic frameworks, or whether we allow them to erupt in violent, destructive ways.

It is worth reflecting on the fact that this dynamic can be observed not only in politics but also in everyday life. For the sake of social peace, we all give in, remain silent, and make compromises within our families, workplaces, and communities. Often this is useful, since it serves calm. But when tension builds up too long, an outburst is inevitable here as well. The political system and civic behavior are thus mirror images of one another. Just as the state moderates ideologies, so too does the individual moderate himself. And just as the state eventually drifts toward extremes, so too does the individual react in extreme ways when he can no longer suppress his emotions. (In a moderate(d) democracy, the state may find necessary and proper avenues to moderate technologies that enable extremist ideologies to flourish, but this is far from censorship.)

The moderate state is not salvation itself, but at least it offers a chance to live in peace and relative freedom — but we must recognize that this does not come free. Its price is constant frustration, self-restraint, and the oppressive burden of compromises in citizens’ daily lives. I believe this is where we erred in recent decades: we thought we had arrived, that paradise had come. We were wrong.

The real question is whether we have enough humility to admit that the moderate, constitutional democracies built over the past century and a half are not perfect, to recognize what the true price of moderation is, and — by acknowledging this reality — to find ways of handling growing frustration. Otherwise, we may end up declaring the end of the age of (moderate) democracies.

Norbert TRIBL is attorney-at-law and senior lecturer at the International and Regional Studies Institute, University of Szeged. He received his PhD in 2020, his thesis is on the applicability of constitutional identity in the European supranational space. He studying economics, finance and accounting from 2024. In 2023, he passed the Hungarian bar exam. As a university lecturer, he teaches State Theory and Constitutional Law. From 2025 he is member of the European Group of Public Law.