PACIFISM

War is humanity’s most expensive, destructive, and persistent bad habit. It’s like the world’s worst subscription service—you pay in lives, trauma, and taxes, and no matter how many times you try to cancel, there’s always another conflict auto-renewing somewhere. Despite centuries of philosophy, diplomacy, and heart-wrenching poetry, we seem perpetually convinced that violence will solve problems it has historically only made worse.

In The March of Folly, historian Barbara Tuchman’s dissects how governments, time and again, pursue policies contrary to their own interests, particularly regarding war. She writes, “The power to command frequently causes failure to think.” This observation rings true from the Trojan War to Vietnam to the endless quagmires in the Middle East. War often isn’t the product of necessity but of ego, miscalculation, and a stubborn refusal to admit mistakes.

War isn’t just a failure of diplomacy; it’s a failure of imagination. We are so conditioned to see conflict as inevitable that we rarely entertain alternatives with the same seriousness. The military-industrial complex doesn’t just manufacture weapons—it manufactures narratives. In his farewell address, President Dwight D. Eisenhower, a five-star general who knew about war, warned against the growing influence of the defense industry on American politics. He cautioned, “In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist.” That was in 1961. If Eisenhower saw today’s world, he’d probably drop his jaw and ask why we didn’t listen.

The psychological costs are incalculable. War traumatizes not just soldiers but entire societies. The term “moral injury” has emerged to describe the deep, often lifelong psychological wounds inflicted when individuals participate in or witness acts that violate their core values. Each of the last twenty years has seen over 6,000 US veteran suicides, over sixteen per day! This isn’t just about PTSD—it’s about the fundamental erosion of one’s sense of humanity. Sebastian Junger, in his book Tribe: On Homecoming and Belonging, argues that the alienation many veterans feel upon returning home stems not just from what they’ve experienced, but from the contrast between the intense bonds formed in war and the fragmented, individualistic societies they come back to.

The financial costs are tremendous. The Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) reported that global military spending reached $2.24 trillion in 2022. That’s trillion with a “T”—enough to end world hunger, provide universal healthcare, and throw in free college for good measure. Instead, it funds weapons systems, military bases, and endless wars that generate profits for defense contractors while leaving devastated communities, broken veterans, and destabilized regions in their wake.

And war often doesn’t accomplish its goal. The RAND Corporation—yes, the think tank that advises the Pentagon—published a study titled The Effectiveness of Military Force and concluded that military interventions rarely achieve their political objectives. Translation: death and destruction only perpetuates more death and destruction.

But perhaps the most insidious effect of war is how it normalizes violence as a problem-solving tool. This seepage into civilian life manifests in everything from police militarization to the glorification of aggression in media. When the military is revered as the pinnacle of national pride, we absorb the message that violence is not just necessary but noble.

Defenders of war will argue about self-defense, humanitarian interventions, and the supposed inevitability of conflict. But history offers ample evidence that nonviolent resistance is often more effective. Erica Chenoweth and Maria J. Stephan’s landmark study, Why Civil Resistance Works, analyzed over 300 movements from 1900 to 2006 and found that nonviolent campaigns were twice as likely to succeed as violent ones. Nonviolence isn’t just morally superior—it’s strategically smart.

Look at the Salt March led by Mahatma Gandhi, which helped dismantle British colonial rule in India without an army. Or the Civil Rights Movement in the United States, where figures like Martin Luther King Jr. wielded nonviolence as a transformative force. King famously stated, “Wars are poor chisels for carving out peaceful tomorrows.” His legacy proves that courage isn’t measured by the ability to inflict harm but by the strength to resist it.

Even entire nations have embraced pacifism as policy. After the horrors of World War II, Japan adopted Article 9 of its constitution, renouncing war and prohibiting the maintenance of armed forces for combat purposes. Germany’s post war Basic Law states that the German people uphold “inviolable and inalienable human rights as the basis of every community, of peace and of justice in the world,” essentially positioning peace as a fundamental principle of the state, largely due to the country’s history with Nazism. While recent political shifts have tested this commitment, Germany and Japan’s post-war era has been marked by economic growth and relative peace—not despite its pacifism, but because of it.

So, what’s stopping us? Fear, mostly. Fear of the “other,” fear of vulnerability, and the deeply ingrained belief that without armies, we’d be defenseless. But the reality is, true security doesn’t come from stockpiles of weapons. It comes from addressing the root causes of conflict—inequality, resource scarcity, and political oppression.

Therefore, under Folklaw:

 War shall be renounced as an instrument of national policy. Acts tending to and undertaken with intent to disturb the peaceful relations between nations, especially to prepare for a war of aggression, shall be unconstitutional. They shall be criminalised.

Conflict resolution will prioritize diplomacy, mediation, and nonviolent resistance, supported by robust education in peace studies at all levels.

Weapons designed for warfare may be manufactured, transported or marketed only with the permission of the Federal Government. The production and export of such weapons will be strictly limited, with existing arsenals reduced under international supervision.

A percentage of military forces will be restructured into civil defense units focused solely on disaster response, peacekeeping, and humanitarian aid. A number of military facilities will be repurposed for community use, including housing, schools, and cultural centers.

Military budgets will be reduced to fund healthcare, education, and sustainable development.

Nations will establish international coalitions for conflict prevention, emphasizing cooperative security rather than deterrence through force.