An Introduction to Tribalism for the Modern World that has Forgotten it

This is part 1 of a series.

The Western world lives under the rule of law and holds sacred the institutions that enforce them. We believe in contracts, in due process, and in a system of justice that is fair, at least in theory. But what happens when that system frays? What happens when there is a growing class that is above the law?

The unsettling answer is that an older, more brutal set of rules re-emerges. It’s a system of power that has governed humanity for nearly all of its history called tribalism.

Of course, tribalism is still thriving in the non-Western world. We see its effects in what we might call corruption, in political systems where votes are merely a show, and in societies where power, not law, is the final arbiter. From a Western perspective, we tend to disdain these systems as a moral failing. We don't see a rational, time-tested system of power operating according to its own logic; we see a deviation from our own sacred ideals. This misunderstanding is a luxury, because when we mistake a power play for a moral lapse, we are left trying to appeal to a non-existent conscience, playing a game we don't even know has begun. And in the emerging conflicts of the 21st century, those who don't understand the rules of the tribe will be the first to fall.

To understand tribalism, imagine a small village at the beginnings of society. When a man is murdered for his property and there is no police to call, what happens? Without the threat of punishment, the profitable nature of violence becomes clear, and a simple, terrifying logic takes hold. You quickly realize that your safety depends not on your virtue, but on your ability to project a credible threat. You need allies. You need a tribe.

This is the foundational axiom of this world: Tribalism is the logical response to a world where the only check on power is other power. In this system, actions are not judged by their morality, but by how they shift the landscape of power. For instance, a powerful clan demanding tribute from weaker villages isn't seen as committing extortion; it is establishing the price of stability and reinforcing the regional order. The goal of tribal politics is not justice, but advantage, and the only real crime is being weak.

For nearly all of human history, this was the way of the world. The society we inhabit today—one of individual rights and personal freedom—is a radical and fragile exception, built on a revolutionary and deeply unnatural idea. The core of this new world is a profound pact: we trade our right to personal protection for the promise of impartial systems of justice.

From the viewpoint of a tribal leader, this is strategic suicide. Why would a clan that guarantees its own justice ever yield to a system that promises justice to its enemies? To do so is to voluntarily surrender its greatest strengths: the power to protect its own, punish its rivals, and maintain its position in the world. It is not merely a loss of advantage; it is the dismantling of the clan’s very foundation.

And yet, this impossible shift created two profoundly different moral universes. In a tribal world, hiring your unqualified nephew over a stranger is not corruption; it is a moral obligation to strengthen your family. In our modern world, it is a fireable offense. In a tribal world, if a rival clan harms your brother, taking revenge is not a crime; it is the justice system working as intended. In our world, it is vigilantism. Lying to an outsider to protect your own is a basic act of loyalty; for us, it is perjury.

Conversely, our most basic norms are tribal absurdities. Entrusting your life savings to a total stranger based on a written contract would be seen as stupidly naive. Putting your family’s fate in the hands of an impartial jury of outsiders is unthinkable. And choosing a career based on personal passion rather than its benefit to the clan’s power would be considered an act of selfishness. These are the two worlds, and the chasm between their values is absolute.

The creator of this chasm is the sacred institutions which enforce the rule of law. The reason modern individuals agree to give up their right to personal protection is due to their belief in institutions. Don’t go after them - let the police handle it. Don’t fight them - settle it in court. However, if these institutions compromise their integrity—if elections can be rigged, if courts can be manipulated, and if laws can be selectively enforced—then the trust that holds modern society together would topple. This raises a dangerous question: who preserves the sacredness of these institutions?

The answer is that no one does. For most people, the rule of law is a benefactor; a shield protecting them from predation. But for the tribal-minded, institutions are not sacred arbiters but obstacles to be pacified and conquered. For them, the rule of law is a shackle, a frustrating restriction on their ambition to acquire more power and influence. After all, tribes and impartial rule of law cannot peacefully co-exist.

Thus, the institutions that enforce our laws are not impenetrable fortresses; they are battlegrounds besieged by tribes, and defended by modern society’s desperate sense of self preservation. But these battlegrounds do not have an institution themselves governing the fights; they are battlegrounds in tribal territory, with tribal rules.

When a tribe succeeds, the law is no longer a hindrance on their influence; it becomes their most effective weapon. This is how the law of the jungle returns: not with a roar, but with a gavel, wielded by a victor.

The great, unspoken mistake of our time is trying to apply the rules of a civilized society to a game that is becoming increasingly tribal. And the stark reality is that modern citizens, raised on the rule of law, are illiterate in the ancient language of power that tribalism speaks. We appeal to fairness when the other side seeks only advantage. We rely on norms while our opponents discard them. We believe in the sanctity of the process, even as it is being subverted to destroy us.

Learning the ways of tribalism is not a call to abandon principles but rather a call to defend them. It is not to become a tribe - it is to learn how to defend and preserve the sacredness of institutions. It is not to fight and gain power for oneself; it is to fight for the preservation of the modern state. As modern citizens, we should know tribalism inside and out.

Only by knowing tribalism can we preserve and appreciate what we have.

See part 2 here.