Violence and the law

I question the use of violence to enforce the law and propose an alternative vision where the law would serve to emancipate rather than subjugate, drawing on the intrinsic capabilities of the child.

The assumption of violence to enforce the law

It is assumed that the child—or the subject being taught in general, who is often infantilized, whether they are an adult, adolescent, or child—is a disordered, brutal subject, a kind of intrinsic wild child. And that the role of education is to enable them to internalize the law, which ensures respect for others and the genuine exercise of citizenship—that is, a harmonious life in service to and within a collective, since human beings live in groups.

This assumption is based on a fear projected onto the child—or rather, the infantilized subject—that if they are not “trained,” they will be an antisocial and potentially dangerous being. This is a great paradox, because violence is used to make them internalize a law that is, in fact, supposed to ensure social non-violence.

Thus, there are two regimes of violence:

• One, illegitimate, carried by the child (or rather, the infantilized subject);
• The other, legitimate, carried by the law.

Except that the law is enforced by people who produce judgments and have the authority to ensure its compliance. But which law are we talking about?

If we imagine, for example, a group of autonomous children in which a system of social hierarchy emerges, the child at the top of the pyramid would be the only one legitimized to use violence to enforce the law. But if we now consider adults overseeing these groups of children—where violent laws have been established—these adults would, in turn, be legitimized to use violence against the violent children, all in the name of respecting the law.

I hope this small example proves, through a shift in perspective, the absurdity of associating violence with law. But then, how can law be enforced?

A biased view of the child

Great thinkers like Freud considered the child as intrinsically violent. He did not consider another perspective—the one Alice Miller, much later, brought to the issue of child violence: a perspective that would show that this violence is inherited from what the child has learned from adults, rather than being inherent to their nature as a “small, not-yet-civilized animal.” Alice Miller demonstrates that violence, while believing itself to be civilizing, is actually inscribed in individuals and makes them violent.

One might object to this reasoning by drawing a comparison with animals, who appear intrinsically violent to us: they fight, compete for food... But this is a much more complex subject in animal ethology than it seems. The culture that structures animal societies differs radically from that of human societies. A superficial comparison does not allow for a one-to-one parallel.

The psychoanalyst Michel Pouquet, in Œdipe et Laïos, dialogue sur l’origine de la violence (co-authored with Olivier Maurel, 2003), states:
“Faced with the instinctual violence of each of us, starting with the child, it is therefore necessary to oppose the law. Now, the law is violent, it is coercive, and it hurts. [...] But it is a lesser evil compared to a violence that would otherwise run wild and subject the weak to ’the law of the strongest.’”

Here, then, we find a justification for violence to enforce the law. But what is the purpose of the law?

• To foster personal and social emancipation—that is, the development of freedom and the agency of each individual?
• Or to ensure the submission of the majority to the authority of a minority?

These are two radically opposed philosophical—even political—conceptions of human communities. Do we want free subjects organizing themselves collectively, or submissive subjects obeying the orders of a few? This choice shapes distinct educational methods.

A political choice

For my part, I side with a society—and a law—that fosters individual and collective emancipation. This is a political choice; others are possible, of course. From this perspective, the role of the law is not to prohibit or oppress but to authorize. It exists to guarantee freedoms, not to impose submission.

I know that at this point, one might argue: “But no, the law exists to prohibit, to set safeguards—otherwise, it’s the law of the jungle!” If we think this way, it means we consider human beings—these animals that we are—as intrinsically monstrous, insane (as the term “safeguard” suggests), destructive, brutal, and dangerous to themselves and the community.

Allow me a comparison with other animals on Earth: by this logic, they should self-destruct in chaos. Yet, this is not what we observe. On the contrary, human beings are among the only ones who massively destroy each other—sometimes in mass killings that no other species commits. And yet, animals have no laws or prohibitions... and their societies function.

As I said earlier, this comparison remains superficial (animal and human cultures differ). But it seems sufficiently relevant to question our institution of law.

What if we changed our perspective on the child?

What if we saw the child as a being endowed with qualities—curiosity, organization, reasoning, capacity for personal development—regardless of age (even in utero)? If we conceived of law as a system of social organization that fosters their personal and collective emancipation, it could rely on the development of these qualities rather than presuppose flaws to correct before even attempting to observe them.

Moreover, each individual is unique: some may be more prone to violence, others to benevolence. A law that respects itself should therefore begin by recognizing each person’s specific qualities and studying their needs in terms of emancipation—that is, respect for their freedom and that of others.

Thus, violence recedes. If a child commits an antisocial act (brutality, sadism...), using violence against them will only make them “understand” one thing: the need to conceal their actions better next time. They will then internalize social hypocrisy, not respect for others.

To create a respectful, social being, we must work with them to understand the roots of their act, then devise—through dialogue, experience, and alternative neural connections—ways to act differently. In doing so, we rely on their capacity to transform and grow. This is the opposite of violence: it is education. The law then becomes an integral part of their development; they carry and transmit it not through coercion but by supporting the emancipation of others—children or adults. A child can even teach adults that violence builds nothing social; it only perpetuates it.

For a law that empowers

Certainly, some might argue that this vision is naive or that it requires infinite time that educators and teachers do not have, given the number of groups to manage. However, if we took this time—instead of vainly trying to convey diverse information inscribed in school curricula—we would develop in each child a much greater social capacity, thereby establishing a law intrinsic to the group and fostering their autonomy. This would even lead them to educate one another, including on academic subjects, with unprecedented effectiveness. Indeed, instead of a single educator trying to transmit the same information to a group, small, autonomous mobile groups could educate each other at their own pace. The result would be a multiplication of educational power and far faster progress than that offered by single channels, which cannot address the uniqueness of each individual.

Decoupling law from violence opens the door to unprecedented education. I have long experimented with it in various social groups, and I attest to its relevance and efficacy.

Changing our perspective on the child—seeing them as capable, not as a being to infantilize—places them as actors within the group. This allows them to unfold their treasures, something strictly forbidden when they are infantilized. If certain groups of children seem resistant, it is not because of them but because of the place they are given. Infantilization deprives the child of the opportunity to contribute to the establishment of a personal and collective law—a chance that we, as adults and educators, must urgently offer them.