Common Principles Toward a Reality-Based Life
2025-09-21
Procedural Objectivism is a worldview focused on a productive way to live and live together.
Procedural Objectivism is not a new religion, a blended philosophy, or an amalgamation. It fully respects that the “why” behind a Christian’s worldview and an atheist’s are fundamentally different and irreconcilable. It operates, instead, on a proven principle: incompatible beliefs do not prevent cooperation on the practical “how” of building a society.
Most importantly, these are not separate points, but each must be viewed in light of the others.
The first axiom is fundamental: Reality is real, knowable, and consequential.
There is a hierarchy: existence has primacy over consciousness. We must exist before we can perceive. This is not merely philosophical but functional. The human mind does not spring fully formed from a void; it develops through interaction with a pre-existing reality. As documented in tragic cases of severe childhood neglect, a mind deprived of the raw material of reality (objects, language, other people) cannot learn to think properly. We must first exist within the world before our consciousness can begin to order it and put it into words. Consciousness is a faculty for apprehending reality, not for creating it.
Reality operates independently of our hopes and feelings. A dropped ball falls regardless of your thoughts or social status. Reality is also consequential. An entire society could declare that fire is cold, write it into law, and teach it in schools, but the first child who touches a flame will still be burned. A bridge built on flawed physics will collapse; a business based on fantasy will fail. Reality does not debate; it provides feedback, often brutally.
Many of our most important social systems are not arbitrary constructions but necessary consequences that emerge to solve problems posed by reality. Money, for example, is a tool that naturally arises from the reality of human specialization and the need for a common medium of exchange. Its form may be conventional (shells, gold, data) but its function is a discovery. Likewise, social prohibitions against murder and theft are consequences of the reality that a cooperative society cannot survive if its members engage in indiscriminate, internal violence. These are not mere “social constructs”; they are discovered solutions to real-world constraints.
Domains like biology, mathematics, and history are discovered features of reality, not inventions. The names and terminology we assign to them are conventions for communication, but the underlying truths (such as the function of a cell, the relationship between prime numbers, the existence of the Roman Empire) are not. For our communication to be effective, these words and definitions must remain stable. To arbitrarily redefine words is to degrade the one tool we have for building a shared understanding of our shared world.
Reason is a powerful tool. It can reduce the number of things we must test when solving problems. But reason untethered to reality is equivalent to hallucination.
Reality is knowable, but that knowing can vary in accuracy (how close your understanding is to reality) and precision (how much detail it can describe). Reality is not progressive. It does not proceed at all. Human understanding of reality, however, can over time more accurately describe what exists.
There is only a single reality, and everyone shares it.
Truth is what corresponds to reality.
There is no relative truth. There is no “your truth” and no “my truth.” What is true is what corresponds to reality.
Truth is knowable because reality is knowable.
To say truth is “knowable” is not to say it is “infallibly known.” Our knowledge is, and always will be, provisional and subject to revision. We can be wrong. But our fallibility does not negate the possibility of knowledge; it means we must remember we can be wrong or gain more precise knowledge in the future. Knowing we may be wrong does not mean we should change our minds about anything at any time. Reality’s consequences take time to observe; do not be swayed by claims without evidence of their outcomes.
We understand the world through interfaces, our senses, that translate external states into internal signals. For truth to be knowable, these interfaces need not provide perfect or identical subjective experiences. They must provide something more fundamental: consistent, discriminative feedback.
The philosophical objection “How do I know your experience of ‘purple’ is the same as mine?” misses the point. Truth is not determined by comparing inner experiences. It is determined by correlating discriminable states of the interface with states of the world.
The prerequisite for discovering truth is not shared subjectivity, but a discriminative interface that yields consistent, correlatable data. This functional requirement is what allows truth to be pursued and known across vast differences in perception.
Again, truth is what corresponds to reality. A statement is true if it accurately describes a state in the real world. While true beliefs do “work,” this is a feature of truth, not its definition. An engineer’s belief in aerodynamics works, resulting in a plane that flies, precisely because his belief corresponds to reality. Because reality is objective, truth must also be objective. It is discovered, not created. The law of gravity was true long before Newton described it and Einstein refined it.
Our knowledge of reality can be incomplete or imprecise, but the underlying reality is definite. The goal of seeking truth is to better understand reality.
Because reality is consequential, truth, as its reflection, is also consequential. The truth, “Jumping off this cliff will lead to death,” has immediate consequences. Every great advance in human well-being results from discovering a truth about reality and putting it to work.
Consider Trofim Lysenko, the Soviet agronomist who rejected genetics as “bourgeois pseudoscience.” He promoted the falsehood that plants could be “re-educated” to pass improved traits to their offspring. Based on the Marxist ideal that there is no “intra-class struggle,” he forced farmers to plant seeds in dense clusters, believing they would cooperate rather than compete. He ordered seeds soaked in freezing water to “teach” them cold-hardiness. When imposed as state policy, these doctrines defied biological reality and contributed to horrific famines. Reality delivered its feedback not in a debate, but in empty fields and the deaths of millions. Ideas have consequences because ideas are claims about what is true.
When seeking truth, we must be careful of our models. Sometimes models work because they accurately represent reality. Sometimes they work because their methods align with reality, even if their stated justifications are inaccurate. Ptolemaic astronomy placed Earth at the center of the solar system and used complex mathematics to approximate planetary positions. It generally predicted positions for the wrong reasons.
When correcting methods that work in practice but lack accurate justification, do not just rip them out. Provide an alternative justification, possibly with simpler or more precise principles, and test this correction over time. Copernicus’s heliocentric model provided a simpler concept that matched Ptolemy’s accuracy. Kepler revised it further, turning circles into ellipses, removing epicycles, and simplifying motion into three laws. These men sought not to tear down, but to better understand and describe reality.
Truth is indifferent to our feelings. Therefore, we must value truth even when it is uncomfortable. The painful truth that a business is failing or a relationship is broken is the necessary first step toward a solution. To prefer a comforting lie is to choose eventual catastrophic failure over the immediate pain of reality.
The pursuit of truth is not a destination but a constant process of alignment. We must apply the same scrutiny to all ideas. The same critical standards we use to tear down a flawed idea must be applied with equal rigor to our new, favored hypothesis. We cannot be harsh critics of others’ beliefs and gentle protectors of our own. This symmetry guards against bias and ensures we are moving closer to truth, not just swapping one dogma for another.
The pursuit of truth, then, is a moral imperative. This entire procedure, however, is carried out by limited human beings.
We are humans who pursue truth. Humans are fundamentally limited and selfish.
Recognizing that humans are limited is sometimes called the “constrained vision” of humanity. It acknowledges that wisdom lies in designing systems and ethics that work within our inherent limitations, rather than pretending they don’t exist.
These limits are woven into our being. Our time is finite, forcing us to make choices and accept trade-offs. Our bodies and minds are finite, requiring rest and succumbing to biases. Our knowledge is finite, a tiny island in a vast ocean of complexity. Our perspective is finite, anchored in a single body at a single point in time. We always operate on incomplete information from a narrow point of view.
This stands in stark contrast to the “unconstrained vision,” the seductive but dangerous belief that human flaws are merely products of corrupt external systems. The unconstrained vision assumes human potential is nearly infinite and can be perfected if only we create the right society. This logic is a trap. If human evil is caused by a flawed society, then the path to creating a “New Man” is to perfect society, by force if necessary. As with Lysenko, who believed he could re-educate nature itself, this utopian dream consistently ends in totalitarian nightmare.
Accepting our limitations is not cause for despair. On the contrary, limitation is the mother of all meaningful structure.
Recognizing humans are selfish is not a moral judgment. Human selfishness means an individual’s primary, instinctual driver is their own survival and well-being, and the well-being of those closest to them (kin selection). Our consciousness is anchored in a single self; our concerns naturally radiate outward from that point. Anyone who did not prioritize their own survival and replication is, by definition, not our ancestor. This is not a prescriptive claim about how we should act, but a descriptive claim about how we are wired.
This does not mean you should only act for yourself. Not at all. We only observe that human nature is oriented around the self, and any workable ethic must account for this to channel it. This is the logic behind checks and balances in government and prosperous market economies. A wise system does not rely on finding benevolent leaders; it creates a structure where, as James Madison argued, “ambition must be made to counteract ambition,” and where, as Adam Smith noted, the butcher provides our dinner not from benevolence, but from regard to his own interest. Well-designed systems align individual self-interest with the common good.
Lastly, humans in a state of nature, or directly upon being born, are not angelic beings only capable of good. Goodness must be taught. Virtue, kindness, and self-control are not factory settings; they are skills painstakingly learned over a lifetime. We need only look at a young child to see this truth. A toddler is a bundle of pure, unconstrained self-interest. They must be taught, over many years, to be kind, honest, and respectful. Goodness is the product of this long, difficult process of civilization.
This view opposes the romantic fantasy of the “noble savage,” an idea associated with Jean-Jacques Rousseau. He argued that humans are born good and pure, but are corrupted by society. In this view, the path to a better human is to perfect society by removing its bad elements. If we create a flawless social environment, it will produce flawless people.
We posit the exact opposite. Man starts out selfish and savage. It is society (its laws, traditions, and institutions) that civilizes him and provides the structure for his goodness to grow. Our aim is not to violently tear down and rebuild society to force a new humanity into existence, but to patiently cultivate what is good within what we actually have.
Reality is real and consequential. Truth is knowable, but humans are limited, we are often wrong. Be humble.
So what do we, these flawed, limited beings who are not naturally good, strive to be? What is this goodness we should seek?
What we consider good must include: human life should continue and continue well, both generationally and individually.
The first part is that life should “continue.” This speaks to both individual survival and, crucially, to generational survival. The core component of goodness is the act of having and raising the next generation, of passing the gift of life forward. A good life is not lived only for the moment; it contributes to the great, ongoing chain of humanity.
The second part, “and continue well,” elevates this philosophy beyond mere animal survival. It is not enough just to exist; the goal is to flourish. “Living well” is the pursuit of quality, health, prosperity, and purpose. This clause prevents the axiom from justifying a grim “survival at any cost” mentality. It affirms that the quality of our lives is a profound moral concern.
“Living well,” however, is not a destination. It is not a utopia. There is no point at which one can say, “I have now arrived at the state of ‘living well.’” Rather, living well is a vector, a direction, not a location. It is measured by the positive slope between two points in time.
Goodness is like keeping your floor clean. At Time 1, the floor is dirty. It dirties your feet, which dirties your bedsheets. This is a small friction, a minor impediment to living well. You then take responsibility and sweep the floor. At Time 2, the floor is clean, your feet are clean, and your sheets stay clean. The slope between Time 1 and Time 2 is positive. This small act of imposing order on chaos is the process of living well in microcosm.
This concept is universally applicable. A prisoner can seek to live well within his constraints by keeping his space clean, exercising, and reading to improve his mind. A billionaire can seek to live well by managing resources responsibly and creating value for others. The specific actions differ, but the underlying principle is the same: to take ownership of one’s circumstances and act to make them better. Living well is the constant, active process of moving from a state of lesser order, health, and purpose to a state of greater order, health, and purpose.
With this axiom, we have a clearer standard for judgment. To evaluate any action, system, or idea, we can ask: On balance, and over the long term, does this contribute to or detract from humans living and continuing well?
Consider theft. For the victim, theft is clearly “not good,” as it diminishes their resources and ability to live well. A thief may see a short-term gain, but they endorse a principle that, if universalized, would make their own life insecure. It erodes the social trust and stability necessary for any member of society to flourish. We can judge theft to be objectively bad according to our standard.
Because reality is consequential and because we have a fixed criterion for judgment, we can make objective statements about what is good. The statement, “All other things being equal, it is better to rest one’s hand on a soft pillow than on a hot flame,” is not a matter of subjective opinion. It is an objectively true statement about what contributes to a human being’s physical well-being. Goodness, in this view, is not a mysterious metaphysical property; it is a measure of an action’s alignment with the flourishing of life.
Because we are limited beings, our understanding of what will ultimately produce goodness is always imperfect. We can be wrong. The world is complex, and the long-term consequences of our actions are not always clear. The pursuit of the good must always be undertaken with humility, with a constant willingness to check our ideas against real-world outcomes and adjust our course when the evidence demands it.
Responsibility is behavior capable of creating and maintaining. In a specialized society, we often trade our ability to create and maintain for the abilities of others.
Each person’s responsibility starts with themselves: creating our own lives and shaping our future for the better, for our own continuance. This could be as simple as sweeping your floor, or as complex as working to secure food.
Our responsibility does not end with ourselves, but it begins there. Our responsibility for ourselves is the greatest.
Responsibility is the general concept needed to create and maintain life:
Responsibility is the mindset of creating and maintaining.
Responsibility begins with ourselves. A man who fails to take care of himself, cannot create or maintain anything. This doesn’t imply we should never sacrifice ourselves for our children or country, but rather, our responsibility is what makes the sacrifice what it is: laying down ourselves for others who we are responsible for. But sacrifice cannot be the normalized or by itself healthy; even though sacrifice is sometimes necessary.
From the self, responsibility radiates outward in concentric circles of decreasing intensity: spouse and children → extended family → neighbors and local community → fellow countrymen → the rest of humanity. The gradient is not arbitrary; it reflects the hard limits of time, knowledge, and loyalty, and symmetric obligation for each circle. We can dispositionally love humanity in the abstract, but we can only be responsible for the concrete few whom we actually know and who know us.
Responsibility must also recognize enemies. Termites who are entering the house we carefully built are enemies (though they are not enemies if they are in the forest). If a country or group states they want to abolish or kill your nation, they are your enemy. Failing to recognize this is dangerous and suicidal.
The fate of the Moriori of the Chatham Islands starkly illustrates the peril of failing to recognize and resist an existential enemy. In 1835, Māori tribes armed with muskets and shaped by a warrior culture of conquest invaded the islands, openly declaring their intent to seize the land and either exterminate or enslave the inhabitants. The Moriori, long bound by their ancestor Nunuku’s covenant of absolute non-violence, welcomed the invaders with traditional hospitality, offering food, shelter, and resources. The Māori accepted this generosity until they had fully recovered their strength, then began the systematic slaughter and enslavement that within years reduced a population of over two thousand to barely a hundred survivors. To a conquering people, the Moriori’s principled kindness was merely a weakness to exploit; to the Moriori themselves, clinging to pacifism in the face of announced genocide proved collective suicide. If you wish your peaceful way of life to survive against those who openly seek your destruction, you must be willing to identify the enemy and destroy him before he destroys you. Responsibility demands nothing less.
Humans are limited. Each person has finite hours in a day. We cannot know what each person needs or what is good for them. Thinking everyone has the same outlook or needs, or that you can know everyone, is not humble.
I reject the notion that each person should be considered the same. This is prideful. This is sometimes called Universalism, and it should be rejected.
I reject the idea that you should actively care for “big things” like “everyone on earth” or “strangers on a different continent”. This is sometimes called radical altruism, and it should be rejected.
Procedural Symmetry is the principle of applying the same rules and methods of evaluation consistently to all subjects within a given domain. It requires that the process for judging an idea, action, or person remains the same whether it applies to you or to others. The defining feature is unwavering consistency in the procedure itself, distinct from any focus on achieving a particular or equal outcome.
This principle manifests in distinct areas, including:
In the Social Domain: Procedural Symmetry requires that the processes governing social interaction are applied uniformly to all members.
In Truth-Seeking: The same methods of critical evaluation must be applied to all claims, regardless of origin or our biases. The procedure for scrutinizing a new, favored theory must be identical to that used for an old, established one. Consistency ensures the focus remains on the validity of the idea itself.
In Logic: The principle is expressed as formal validity, where the reliability of a deductive argument’s structure is independent of its content. A logical form like modus ponens (If P then Q; P; therefore Q) is a consistent procedure that yields a valid conclusion regardless of the specific propositions. The procedure’s integrity guarantees its function.
In Behavior: This operates as a method for evaluating a rule of conduct by applying it universally and reciprocally. To test a behavioral procedure (e.g., “It is acceptable to break a promise for personal gain”), one must assess the systemic outcome if everyone, including oneself, followed that same rule. The procedure’s viability is determined by its functional consequences when applied symmetrically.
Generationally: Applied across time, this principle manifests in child-rearing. Every living person is the result of a predecessor generation undertaking the procedure of raising them from dependency to independence. Procedural Symmetry requires that the current generation, having received this process, applies the same procedure in turn by raising children. This establishes a consistent, reciprocal link between generations, ensuring humanity’s continuation by repeating the fundamental process that enabled one’s own existence.
In Conflict: Applied in conflict, the goal is the future survival and future peace of our society. Defending your home against an intruder would be an example of applying a procedure against all intruders that would ideally both reduce intruders and keep the people in the homes safer. Similarly for nations: in peace we strive for diplomacy and trade, but a strong response to clear violations of sovereignty, aimed to achieve future peace.
In Selection: Applied in selection, a single standard is devised and as best as possible uniformly applied. In college admissions, an example would be a standardized test with a single threshold for all students.
When Procedural Symmetry is not embraced, people often default to two inferior alternatives: Value Symmetry or Outcome Symmetry.
Value Symmetry creates a direct, equivalent correspondence between an action and its consequence. It serves as both a justification for retribution and a limit upon it. By demanding that the scales of justice be balanced, it prevents excessive vengeance but frames justice as a backward-looking transaction. When elevated to a supreme law, it breeds rigid, dogmatic systems.
Outcome Symmetry is fixated on achieving a predetermined future where all individuals and groups have identical results. It requires the unequal application of rules to redistribute resources and status. As a totalizing worldview, it functions as a secular religion.
Procedural Symmetry must never be identity based, but it may be tier based. For example, it is good to have different procedures for your spouse than for a stranger in a different nation. An army may have a single standard for a given combat role, but each role’s standard may be different based on their requirements.
Cultivate the mindset of Procedural Symmetry: consistently ask whether the same rule and process is being applied to all. Recognize when justifications drift into Outcome Symmetry or Value Symmetry, and return to procedural consistency.
Procedural Symmetry does not demand moral passivity. It demands the opposite: the courage to judge, and to judge fairly. A standard that is never applied is not a standard; it is a fiction. Symmetry provides the impartial method; judgment is the act of applying it.
To judge is to discern: to separate what aligns with a standard from what violates it. In logic, we judge an argument as valid or invalid. In a family, we judge an action as respectful or disrespectful. Under the rule of law, a judge or jury renders a verdict. This process is not an emotional reaction; it is the necessary mechanism that gives structure meaning. A society that will not judge has lost the will to uphold itself. It confuses weakness for kindness and will be consumed by the encroachment of what it failed to name as wrong.
This discernment is painful but necessary. No one enjoys being told they are wrong. But this pain is the feedback of reality, signaling a misalignment. To shield someone from this feedback is not mercy; it is permissiveness, and it prevents growth.
True mercy can only exist after judgment. Mercy is the conscious choice to withhold a just consequence after a wrong has been clearly identified. Permissiveness is the failure to identify the wrong in the first place. The former is strength within a moral order; the latter is neglect that erodes that order.
However, we are limited. Our time, attention, and care are finite. We cannot judge everything with equal weight. Tiered Responsibility defines the scope of our primary judgment.
Our first and greatest duty of judgment is over ourselves. Next, within our family. Then, to the extent our actions intertwine, to our community and nation under the shared rule of law. Judgment must radiate outward with decreasing intensity, mirroring our responsibility.
We judge most where we are most responsible. We have neither the right nor the capacity to be the moral auditor of a stranger’s private life in a distant land. But we have every right and obligation to judge actions that impact our own sphere, according to the symmetrical rules that govern it.
The Rule of Law is the formalized system of judgment for a society. It applies symmetrically to those within its jurisdiction. To refuse to judge a citizen who breaks the law is to abandon the law. Conversely, to pretend we can rightly judge those entirely outside our law and community is an act of hubris.
Therefore, judgment is not optional. It is the active principle without which justice, order, and goodness cannot be sustained. We must judge. We must judge fairly by our standards. And we must judge first where our responsibility is greatest.
The principle of Tiered Self-Anchored Responsibility provides a blueprint for our duties in the present moment. But a life, and a civilization, are not lived in a single moment. They unfold across time. We must now extend our thinking to the fourth dimension, applying our principles across the generations. This is the concept of Generational Obligation, which is nothing less than Procedural Symmetry applied to the great sweep of history. The rule is simple and profound: we must do for the next generation what we wish the previous generation had done for us.
We must begin by framing our own existence correctly. The modern mind often defaults to seeing the individual as an isolated, autonomous atom, a self-created being whose only duty is to their own fulfillment. Procedural Objectivism rejects this as a lonely and arrogant fiction. We are not atoms; we are links in a great chain, a chain that stretches from the deepest recesses of the past into a future we will never see. This chain is our society, our civilization. Each of us is a single link, forged by the link that came before and tasked with the sacred duty of forging the one that comes after. A link has two responsibilities: to faithfully receive the strength of the past and to reliably transmit that strength to the future.
We must appreciate the sheer scale of the inheritance we receive at birth. It is far more than just our genetic code. We inherit a language, a complex system of meaning that was developed and refined over thousands of years. We inherit a body of scientific knowledge and a suite of technologies that grant us power our ancestors could only have dreamed of, the power to light up the night, to speak to someone across the world, to cure diseases that were once a death sentence. We inherit a moral inheritance, a set of traditions and stories that, for all their flaws, contain the accumulated wisdom of countless generations grappling with the perennial problems of human life. And in a fortunate society, we inherit political institutions, like the Rule of Law and constitutional government, that are the product of immense sacrifice, including the blood of those who fought to establish and defend them. We are born onto a high platform built by the unimaginable labor of the dead.
To take this inheritance for granted is a profound moral failure. To consume it without thought, to treat it as a disposable playground for our own amusement, is the height of civilizational ingratitude. A generation that fails in its obligation to preserve and transmit this inheritance is a broken link in the chain. It enjoys all the benefits passed down from its ancestors but, in its short-sighted selfishness, fails to pass them on. It betrays both the past that created it and the future that depends on it.
Goodness is not self-sustaining. The institutions and values that allow us to “live well” are fragile and require constant upkeep. A garden, once planted, does not tend to itself. The constitutional principles that protect our freedom do not enforce themselves. The moral virtues that make a society decent do not transmit themselves automatically to the next generation. All of these good things must be actively maintained, vigilantly guarded, and intentionally taught, or they will inevitably decay and be lost. Our generational obligation is to be the faithful stewards of this precious, fragile garden. As the statesman Edmund Burke articulated, society is a partnership, “not only between those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are to be born.” Our actions should be judged not just by the standards of our peers, but by the legacy of our ancestors and the needs of our descendants.
This profound obligation can be broken down into two core, practical duties. The first and most fundamental is the biological and demographic imperative: to have children. A society that, for reasons of convenience or ideology, stops having children has judged itself unworthy of a future. It has committed a slow-motion, collective suicide. Modern anti-natalist arguments, that having children is cruel to the child or bad for the planet, must be judged against our foundational axiom. They are a direct and explicit negation of the principle that “human life should continue.” Therefore, they are a profoundly “not good” ideology. The decision to have a child, in the face of life’s difficulties and uncertainties, is the ultimate act of hope. It is a powerful declaration that life, despite its suffering, is a gift, and that the future is a worthy investment.
The second core duty is not merely to produce children, but to raise them. It is the long, difficult, and noble project of transforming a dependent, self-anchored infant into a competent, virtuous, and responsible adult. This means transmitting practical skills, teaching them how to work, how to manage their money, how to maintain a home, and how to care for their own bodies. It is about giving them the tools to “live well” in a practical, material sense.
Even more importantly, our duty is to transmit our ethical and cultural inheritance. We must teach our children the principles of a good life. We must model and instruct them in the virtues of taking responsibility, of respecting the truth, of judging fairly, and of prioritizing their duties. We must teach them the history of their nation, both its triumphs and its failures. We must raise them to be citizens who are capable of understanding, appreciating, and one day defending the institutions that grant them their freedom and security. This work falls primarily to the family. Schools and other institutions can assist, but they can never replace the foundational role of parents in the formation of character.
This duty is not to be mistaken for a demand to create a stagnant society, where children must blindly replicate the lives of their parents. The goal is to pass on the foundational principles and tools that allow the next generation to flourish and innovate on their own terms, just as we have been able to. It is giving them the strong foundation upon which they can build a new and better structure. This may require us to reform our inheritance, to use our own judgment to separate the timeless wisdom from the historical errors, carefully discarding the bad while preserving and strengthening the good. This is the work of responsible conservation, not revolutionary destruction.
This perspective imbues our daily lives with a profound sense of meaning. Our small, mundane struggles are connected to a vast, multi-generational project. Sweeping the floor is not just about having a clean house today; it is part of creating an orderly and beautiful home in which to raise a child, who will then be equipped to create their own orderly home one day. This is quiet, unglamorous heroism. It is the heroism of changing diapers, of helping with homework, of patiently correcting misbehavior, and of saving for a future you may not fully enjoy. It is the difficult, essential, and deeply satisfying work of being a good ancestor.
Our generational obligation is not merely to create life, but to protect the world we will pass on. This protection demands we recognize that enemies are real, and that failing to identify them, or rashly forgiving their transgressions, endangers not only our own lives but the inheritance of our children. To navigate this dangerous terrain, we must have a disciplined understanding of love and the strict conditions for forgiveness. Love provides the method of care for our children and neighbors, grounding our loyalties. Forgiveness, when properly understood, provides the strategic bridge for restoring order after it has been broken. An undisciplined love and a cheap forgiveness are not virtues; they are betrayals of the future.
The word “love” is perhaps the most ill-defined and emotionally loaded term in our language. In modern culture, it is often treated as an overwhelming feeling, a mysterious force that happens to us, or a state of unconditional positive regard. This romantic and sentimental view is a poor foundation for a durable life. Procedural Objectivism demands a more rigorous and reality-based definition. The first principle is that all expressions of love must align with our tiered, self-anchored responsibilities. Love does not grant us an exemption from our primary duties; it must operate within them. To clarify this, we must separate love into two distinct forms: Dispositional Love and Action-Based Love.
Dispositional Love is the general goodwill and non-malice we should feel toward all people within our society, including the strangers who make up the outer tiers of our responsibility. It is the baseline respect for another’s humanity, the recognition that they, too, are striving to live and live well. This civic friendship is what makes a complex society possible. It is expressed by obeying the laws that protect others, by showing basic courtesy, and by not wishing your fellow citizens harm. It is the quiet, unassuming foundation of social trust.
Action-Based Love, however, is something far more specific and costly. It is not a feeling, but a verb. It is the demonstrable and prioritized investment of your most limited and precious resources, your time, your energy, your attention, and your money, for the well-being of another. If it doesn’t cost you anything, it isn’t action-based love; it is a nice gesture. Because this form of love has a significant opportunity cost, time spent loving your family is time you cannot spend loving a stranger, it must be allocated according to the tiers of responsibility. You must never offer a level of action-based love to a friend or stranger that is greater than what you owe your spouse or family. A father who spends every weekend on a charitable project while his own children are neglected is not being virtuous. He is misallocating his love, violating his primary responsibility.
This definition transforms our understanding of love from a passive feeling into a disciplined choice. There will be many days when you do not “feel” like loving your spouse or your children. On these days, true love reveals itself as a commitment, the choice to perform the loving action anyway, because you are dedicated to their well-being. This is the solid bedrock of a strong family, far more durable than the shifting sands of romantic emotion. Often, the feelings of affection are the result of consistent loving actions, not the cause. By repeatedly acting with care, we cultivate the emotional bond. This same logic applies to patriotism, a true love of one’s country is expressed not in sentimental slogans, but in the disciplined actions of good citizenship.
But a realistic philosophy must also confront another truth: Enemies are real. In a culture that often pushes for universal tolerance, this can be an uncomfortable acknowledgment, but it is a necessary act of judgment. An enemy is not someone with whom you have a policy disagreement. An enemy is someone who, through their actions and stated goals, demonstrates that they are fundamentally opposed to your flourishing. They may directly threaten your or your family’s survival. They may work to subvert the foundational principles of your society, like procedural symmetry and the Rule of Law. Or they may be a complete narcissist who, in their egoism, consistently fails to take responsibility and acts as a destructive force in your life.
The failure to recognize the existence of enemies is the fatal flaw of pure universalism. It naively projects its own desire for peace and cooperation onto all actors, even those whose ideologies are explicitly based on conquest or destruction. Identifying an enemy is a sober act of judgment, not an indulgence in hatred. It is an assessment based on evidence. A violent criminal who threatens your family is an enemy. A political movement that seeks to replace the Rule of Law with the Rule by Man is an enemy. An external power that glorifies conquest is an enemy. To pretend otherwise is not virtuous; it is a dangerous failure to see reality as it is. Our responsibility toward a recognized enemy is to protect against them: to protect ourselves, our families, and our communities from the harm they intend.
Between the poles of love and enmity lies the difficult terrain of wrongdoing. To navigate it, we must first rescue the word “forgiveness” from its modern confusion by separating it into two distinct acts: Personal Forgiveness and Social Reconciliation.
Personal Forgiveness is the internal act of letting go. It is the conscious decision to release oneself from the poison of chronic resentment and the desire for revenge. This is not for the benefit of the wrongdoer, but for oneself, it is a prerequisite for “living well,” as one cannot flourish while shackled to past grievances. This form of forgiveness is almost always a wise and prudent choice.
Social Reconciliation, however, is the external act of restoring trust and cooperation. This is the “Golden Bridge,” a strategic choice offered only after strict conditions are met: full accountability has been established, and the wrongdoer has demonstrated genuine, sustained change. An abused spouse may choose personal forgiveness for her own peace, while rightly refusing reconciliation to ensure her own safety.
Procedural Objectivism thus provides a realistic and durable framework for our most intense relationships. It offers a structured model for love through tiered responsibility, a sober method for identifying enemies, and a clear-eyed, dual approach to handling wrongdoing. It replaces sentimental idealism with a system based on responsible action, principled judgment, and a profound understanding of the difference between freeing oneself and rebuilding a broken world.
Having laid out the broad principles for a good society, we must now turn the focus inward. A society is nothing more than the sum of the individuals within it, and a good society can only be built and maintained by individuals. The entire structure of Procedural Objectivism rests upon the character of the person who seeks to live by it. All the virtues required of such a person flow from a single, foundational act: taking responsibility.
In our modern culture, “responsibility” is often confused with “blame.” When something goes wrong, the typical response is to engage in a frantic, backward-looking search to determine whose fault it was. This is a sterile and unproductive exercise. Blame is about assigning a past error. Responsibility is about committing to a future outcome. Procedural Objectivism is not primarily concerned with who is to blame for the mess; it is concerned with the far more important question: Who is going to take responsibility for cleaning it up?
Goodness does not happen by accident. Order does not spontaneously arise from chaos. A clean room, a successful project, a healthy family, these things do not simply manifest. They are the result of a specific moment of choice. It is the moment when an individual looks at a situation and decides, “This state of affairs is not aligned with how I want to live. This is my problem now. I will take ownership of the outcome.” This mental act of taking ownership is the first half of responsibility. The second half is taking action to bring about a better result.
This is why responsibility is not a set of words, but a category of deeds. To say, “I take full responsibility,” is meaningless if it is not followed by corrective action. Imagine a boy who hits a baseball through a neighbor’s window. If he goes to the neighbor and admits, “I hit the ball that broke your window,” he has, at this point, only aligned with truth. He has admitted fault. He only takes responsibility when he acts as if that window were his own, when he offers to pay for the repair, when he helps to clean up the glass, when he commits his own resources to restoring what was broken. That is the chasm between mere admission and true ownership.
Consider a more profound example: a man who fathers a child. To admit that the child is biologically his is simply to state a fact. To take responsibility is something else entirely. It is to take ownership of the new life he helped create, to care for the child and the mother as he would care for himself. It means providing his resources, his time, his protection, and his love, not because a court demands it, but because it is his duty. It is the commitment to see the project of that child’s life through to a good outcome.
This shift in mindset from passive observer to active owner is the difference between being a victim of circumstance and an agent of change. A person who cultivates an “internal locus of control”, the belief that they are the primary cause of their own successes and failures, is a person who can learn, adapt, and grow. A person with an “external locus of control”, who believes their life is determined by luck, by the system, or by other people, is condemned to a life of helplessness and resentment. The victim is always waiting for someone else to come and fix their problems. The responsible individual asks, “What can I do to fix this?”
This responsibility extends even to problems you did not cause. If you see trash littering your neighborhood park, it is not your fault. But if you value the good of a clean and safe park for your community’s children, you can choose to take responsibility. You can pick up the trash. This simple act is the hallmark of a citizen, not a mere resident. It is the choice to take ownership of a small piece of the shared world and make it better. A society where people only clean up messes they personally made will be a filthy society. A society where people take responsibility for the shared space will be a beautiful one.
To take responsibility is to find freedom. This is a paradox. To take on a burden feels like the opposite of freedom, but it is not. The person who refuses responsibility for their own life becomes a slave to their own appetites, to the opinions of others, and to the winds of circumstance. By taking ownership of your choices, your work, and your commitments, you become the author of your own story. This is the only path to authentic liberty.
This mindset is profoundly practical. It replaces the useless, backward-looking question, “Whose fault is this?” with the powerful, forward-looking question, “What is the smallest thing I can do, right now, to make this situation better?” This simple re-framing can break the paralysis of anger and despair, and replace it with the momentum of action. An action-oriented life is the natural result of a responsible mind.
Overcoming the inertia of inaction is often the first and greatest hurdle. The best strategy is to identify the smallest viable action that will move you in the right direction, and to do it immediately. If you want to get in shape, do not start by researching complex workout plans; start by doing ten pushups. If you want to write a book, do not fret about the entire structure; write one good paragraph. Action creates its own momentum. A small success makes the next action easier, creating a virtuous cycle that is the antidote to the vicious cycle of passivity and helplessness.
Competence is not an innate gift; it is the byproduct of action. We become good at things by doing them, by failing, by learning from reality’s feedback, and by doing them again. And action is the most potent cure for fear. We can sit and worry about a difficult conversation for weeks, letting the fear grow in our minds. Or we can take the action, have the conversation, and discover that the reality was far more manageable than the fantasy. A life of responsibility is therefore a life of action. It is the understanding that the world is not shaped by those with the best opinions, but by those who do the work. It is the commitment to be a player on the field, not a critic in the stands. This is the keystone virtue of the individual in Procedural Objectivism. It is the act that transforms a person from a passive object to which things happen into an active moral agent, capable of pursuing and creating goodness in the world.
To act in the world is not enough; one must act well. And to act well, one’s actions must be aligned with reality. An energetic fool can cause more damage than a lazy cynic. Therefore, the foundation of responsible action must be a relentless commitment to seeing the world as it is, not as we wish it to be. This commitment cultivates the twin virtues of the realist: humility and the pursuit of excellence.
The first intellectual and moral duty of the individual is to seek and align with truth. Truth, as we have established, is not an academic luxury; it is a practical necessity for a good life. We cannot hope to achieve good outcomes if our actions are based on a false map of the world. This requires an active, curious, and diligent pursuit of what is real, even, and especially, when that reality is complex, uncomfortable, or contrary to our cherished beliefs.
The first and most immediate result of a genuine search for truth is the virtue of humility. The moment you begin to honestly investigate any subject, you are confronted with two humbling facts: first, that the world is infinitely more complex than you had imagined, and second, that your own personal knowledge is startlingly limited. Because of these limitations, we must always carry with us the quiet, internal acknowledgment that “I might be wrong.” This is the very definition of intellectual humility.
Humility should not be confused with its common caricatures of low self-esteem or passivity. The humble person does not think less of themselves; they simply think of themselves less and think more about the truth of the situation. It is a realistic assessment of one’s own fallibility, a strength that allows for learning, not a weakness that leads to inaction. The opposite is arrogance: the mindset of the ideologue who believes their map of reality is perfect and seeks to bend the territory to fit it.
Intellectually, humility is the practice of valuing being correct over having been right. It is the scientist’s loyalty to truth over ego, and the courage to admit, “I was wrong.” It is the genuine willingness to listen, to consider that another person may know something we don’t, and to begin any true inquiry with the words, “I don’t know.”
This humility deepens when we confront the brute facts of existence itself. We cannot bargain with gravity or negotiate with our own mortality; we must understand the world on its own terms. This posture before reality naturally tempers our judgment of others. It reminds us that while we must judge actions, we should be cautious about motives, infusing our judgment with a necessary dose of compassion.
Humility, then, is the virtue that keeps us tethered to reality. It opens the door to knowledge. But once that door is open, we have an obligation to walk through it with vigor and purpose. This is the second great virtue of the realist: the pursuit of excellence.
Once you know what is good to do, you have a duty to do it, and to do it well. After the clear-eyed judgment of the humble mind comes the dedicated action of the responsible hand. To perform a known good with mediocrity, laziness, or indifference is a moral failure. If a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing with excellence.
Excellence should not be confused with perfectionism. Perfectionism is often a mask for fear, the fear of taking action until the outcome is guaranteed to be flawless. It is a recipe for paralysis. Excellence, by contrast, is a commitment to process. It is about doing the best one can with the knowledge and resources available today, and then striving, with humility, to do it even better tomorrow. It is a commitment to constant improvement.
This principle applies to every domain of life. We should strive to be excellent spouses, excellent parents, excellent professionals, and excellent citizens. In our work, this is the difference between the employee who does the bare minimum to not get fired, and the craftsman who takes deep pride in the quality of their work, regardless of supervision. The pursuit of excellence is about setting high personal standards and holding yourself accountable to them.
These two virtues, humility and excellence, are intertwined. Humility without a drive for excellence can become passive and withdrawn. Excellence without humility can become arrogant and brittle. The ideal is to combine them: the humble confidence of a person who knows they have a great deal to learn, but who is committed to pursuing their current task with all the excellence they can muster. You take responsibility for a task. Humility allows you to see the truth of how to best accomplish it and to learn from your mistakes. The pursuit of excellence is the disciplined action you take to complete that task to the highest possible standard. A life dedicated to these virtues is a life of purpose, grounded, effective, and always growing.
The virtues of responsibility, humility, and excellence provide a path to a life that is good and true. But what of beauty? In a world that often dismisses beauty as a purely subjective taste, a superficial ornament, or even a tool of social oppression, Procedural Objectivism makes a radical claim: Beauty is real, it is important, and it is a direct consequence of a life lived well.
We must first clear away the modern confusion. The idea that beauty is entirely “in the eye of the beholder” is a shallow one. While individual tastes certainly vary, the remarkable consistency of what humans across cultures and throughout history have found beautiful, the symmetry of a healthy face, the vibrant colors of a sunset, the resonant harmony of music, the ordered complexity of a thriving forest, suggests that our aesthetic sense is responding to something real in the world, not just projecting a private preference.
Equally flawed is the modern academic tendency to deconstruct beauty, to see it as nothing more than a social construct used to enforce power structures. While aesthetic standards can be shaped by culture, this view cannot account for the visceral, pre-rational thrill we feel when confronted with true beauty. It is a response that seems to come from a deeper part of our being. This has led many in the worlds of art and architecture to abandon the pursuit of beauty altogether, replacing it with a quest for that which is merely “interesting,” “subversive,” or “shocking.” The result is often an art that is deliberately ugly, chaotic, and nihilistic, an aesthetic that fails the fundamental test of contributing to human flourishing.
Procedural Objectivism rescues beauty from this morass by grounding it in our core principles. Beauty is not the highest good itself, but it is the aesthetic radiance of the good made manifest. It is a sign, a signal that life is thriving. The famous romantic sentiment, “Beauty is truth, truth beauty,” is not quite right. Some truths are ugly, the truth of a wasting disease or a brutal injustice. Rather, beauty is a specific kind of truth: it is the truth of goodness, order, and health made visible to our senses.
This leads to our core definition: The beauty that is good is the polished form after someone bears ownership and responsibility. It is the aesthetic signature of virtue in action. The “polished form” implies intention, effort, and the removal of what is flawed or chaotic. The “bearing of responsibility” is the crucial source of that effort. Beauty is what happens when a responsible agent takes ownership of a piece of the world, be it a home, a body, a skill, or a community, and brings it into a state of benevolent, flourishing order.
Consider the simple, practical examples of this principle. For an individual, beauty is not about conforming to the impossible standards of a fashion magazine. It is the quiet dignity of a washed face, of clean hands, of clothes that are mended rather than torn. A clean, patched shirt is more beautiful than a dirty, designer one because the former is a sign of self-respect and the latter is a sign of neglect. The beauty lies in the evidence of care.
For a home, beauty is not a matter of expensive furniture or architectural grandeur. It is the state of “readiness for human use”, the clean floors, the dusted tables, the ordered kitchen. A beautiful home is one that has been made fit for the flourishing of the family within it. A simple cottage, impeccably maintained and filled with life, is far more beautiful than a sprawling mansion that has been allowed to fall into dusty disuse. The beauty is a direct result of the owners taking responsibility for their space.
For a neighborhood, beauty is seen in the absence of graffiti and trash, in the well-tended gardens and the maintained public spaces. This is the beauty of civic responsibility. It is the visible sign that a community of people has taken collective ownership of their shared environment and is working to keep it safe, orderly, and pleasant for one another.
A well-tended garden is a perfect microcosm of this principle. The land, in its raw state, is a chaos of weeds. The gardener takes responsibility. He judges what is good for his plants and what is not. He acts on that judgment, pulling the weeds, enriching the soil, and protecting the plants from pests. The result, a beautiful and productive garden, is nothing less than the aesthetic byproduct of his responsible labor. The beauty of a strong, healthy animal or a majestic, thriving tree can be seen through this same lens: it is the physical manifestation of that organism’s successful alignment with reality. It is the beauty of life itself, flourishing.
The opposite of this beauty is ugliness, which is so often the aesthetic of neglect, irresponsibility, and chaos. A dilapidated building, a polluted river, a person showing no respect for their own body, these things strike us as ugly because they are visible signs of a failure of responsibility. They are the physical evidence of decay, of life diminishing rather than flourishing.
It follows, then, that we have a moral duty to create beauty in our own, immediate sphere of influence. To take responsibility for your corner of the world, your own body, your own home, your own desk at work, and to make it orderly, clean, and fit for purpose is a direct contribution to the sum total of goodness in the world. This should not be seen as a mere chore. The act of creating order and beauty is a deeply satisfying and meaningful activity. It is “living well” made tangible. It is polishing your own small part of reality until it shines.
To truly understand a philosophy, one must understand not only what it asserts, but also what it rejects. Over the next chapters, we will place Procedural Objectivism in direct contrast with conflicting philosophies. This process will sharpen the edges of our definitions and make clear the practical, real-world consequences of choosing one philosophical path over another. We begin with the concept of justice, which every society must define. At the heart of any theory of justice lies a chosen form of “symmetry”, a principle that determines what a fair and balanced social interaction looks like. The choice of which symmetry to value is one of the most consequential a society can make.
The first major rival is Value Symmetry, a principle of justice based on retribution. Its core belief is that fairness is achieved when a perpetrator receives a punishment of equal value to the harm they inflicted. This is the ancient logic of “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” We must first acknowledge its appeal. It speaks to a primal human desire for retribution and the balancing of scales. And historically, it served a crucial purpose: it acted as a limit. In a world where the natural human impulse might be to seek vengeance ten times greater than the original offense, “an eye for an eye” puts a cap on the cycle of revenge. It says, “this much, and no more.”
In parts of the west, historically Value Symmetry has been called Lex Talionis and restricted the amount of retribution that could be exacted. In the modern world the only places Value Symmetry is encoded into law in the notion of Qisas, an aspect of Islamic Sharia Law, in countries such as Saudi Arabia, Iran, and Pakistan. It allows the victim or the victim’s family exact equal amount of bodily harm or to be paid some amount of money to compensate for the value of the crime. Procedural Objectivism rejects Value Symmetry as a basis for a modern legal system. It is fundamentally backward-looking, focused on settling a past grievance rather than building a stable future. Its application is often subjective and inflammatory, how does one precisely measure the “value” of a lost reputation or a lifetime of trauma? And it too often leads to escalating cycles of vendetta, destabilizing the very social order it aims to protect. Justice, in Procedural Objectivism, should be about restoring order and upholding a fair process, not about the meticulous infliction of equal harm. That being said, Procedural Objectivism does not directly reject corporal punishments, such as the use of Caning in Singapore, so long as it is given as a violation of the law in a prescribed manner, and not as a retribution of value.
The second, more modern rival is Outcome Symmetry, the core principle of egalitarianism. This is the belief that justice is achieved only when all individuals in a society have the same, or roughly the same, outcomes in terms of wealth, status, and well-being. The moral appeal of this vision is powerful; it is born from a sincere and compassionate desire to eliminate poverty and suffering. Who would not want a world where no one is left behind?
The goal of Outcome Symmetry is not equality of opportunity, but equality of outcome, often called “equity”. Equity, in this context, is the unequal treatment of individuals to correct for unequal group results. It requires constant intervention by a central authority to rebalance outcomes, as free people will never produce identical results. This worldview is defined by its focus on group identity over individual action. An individual is seen not as a sovereign actor, but primarily as a representative of their identity group (defined by race, class, etc.). The unit of moral analysis shifts from the individual to the group average. Individual merit, choices, and culpability become secondary to the statistical outcomes of the group to which one belongs.
In the courtroom, society can be seen as a conspirator against the perpetrator, either forcing or assisting in the crime. The modern intellectual framework that employs this logic is known as Critical Theory. This single framework has given rise to numerous fields of study and activism. Examples of Critical Theory today includes, but is not limited to:
| 1. Critical Race Theory | 11. Critical Animal Studies |
| 2. Critical Legal Studies | 12. Critical Geopolitics |
| 3. Feminist Theory | 13. Critical Media Studies |
| 4. Queer Theory | 14. Critical Psychiatry |
| 5. Postcolonial Theory | 15. Mad Pride |
| 6. Critical Disability Theory | 16. Critical Information Studies |
| 7. Fat Studies | 17. Critical Urban Theory |
| 8. Critical Pedagogy | 18. Settler Colonial Studies |
| 9. Critical Whiteness Studies | 19. Critical Data Studies |
| 10. Critical Management Studies | 20. Intersectionality |
The core error of this view is its misinterpretation of difference as injustice. While Procedural Symmetry would always see injustice when the wealthy are subject to one set of laws and the poor are subject to a different set of laws, Outcome Symmetry would only see injustice in this situation if such laws didn’t favor the poor (the oppressed) against the wealthy (the oppressor), thus requiring unequal procedures.
Procedural Symmetry stands in stark contrast to both Value Symmetry and Outcome Symmetry. It states that justice is found not in the result, but in the fairness of the game. Everyone, from the richest to the poorest, must play by the same set of rules, be judged by the same impartial laws. It works with human nature by allowing individuals to benefit from their own efforts, thus encouraging the very productivity and innovation that elevates the standard of living for everyone. It is the only form of justice compatible with a free, prosperous, and virtuous society.
The practical implications of this choice are immense. In a courtroom, the Value Symmetry advocate wants to exact equal retribution. The Outcome Symmetry advocate wants to blame the crime on socioeconomic forces. The Procedural Symmetry advocate wants to know one thing: did the accused violate a clear law, as determined by a fair and standard procedure? In a classroom, the Outcome Symmetry advocate may seek to eliminate advanced classes to ensure no student feels “behind” and no one “gets ahead” and to force equal outcomes, effectively holding back the brightest. The Procedural Symmetry advocate insists that every student has access to quality instruction and is held to the same high academic standards, allowing each to achieve their own level of excellence. The symmetry a society chooses determines whether it will be a society of vengeance, a society of enforced mediocrity, or a society of opportunity. Procedural Objectivism unequivocally chooses the latter.
Procedural Objectivism is grounded in a real and knowable world. It must, therefore, draw a hard boundary against philosophies that deny this foundation. The difference is not one of degree, but of kind; it is irreconcilable. The specific ideologies of dialectical social constructivism, particularly those descending from modern Critical Theory, operate within a sealed intellectual system that is structurally immune to evidence and hostile to consistent reason. To understand why PO must reject this worldview on principle, we must first understand the architecture of this sealed system.
Before any productive discussion can begin, there must be a shared understanding of the rules of engagement. For any honest inquiry, Procedural Objectivism holds that two foundational principles are non negotiable. These are not arbitrary rules, but direct manifestations of Procedural Symmetry, the master principle that we must judge all ideas by the same fair standard.
First is Internal Consistency. This is Procedural Symmetry applied to logic. The rules of reason, such as the principle of non contradiction, must be applied symmetrically to all parts of an argument. One cannot use a strict standard of logic to critique an opponent’s position while allowing logical contradictions to exist within one’s own.
Second is External Consistency. This is Procedural Symmetry applied to evidence. The standard for validating a claim against reality must be applied symmetrically to all ideas. A seeker of truth must pursue multiple, consistent proxies, such as empirical data, logical deduction, and historical outcomes, to test all theories, especially their own cherished beliefs.
Before any debate can begin, there must be a shared agreement on these two principles. Without this common ground, the participants are not having a debate; they are performing separate monologues in separate rooms.
The sealed system of dialectical constructivism is built on a structural rejection of both of these principles.
Its rejection of External Consistency begins with its primary method: it does not start by analyzing data from the world, but by adopting a single, all encompassing, and unfalsifiable interpretive lens, a theory of power, oppression, and liberation. This is how the system seals itself off from reality. Every piece of data from the real world, all of history, all human interactions, all scientific findings, is forced through this single lens. Evidence is not used to test the lens; the lens is used to reinterpret the evidence. For example, an archeological find of a female skeleton buried with a sword is not treated as data that might have multiple explanations, such as that she was a warrior, the burial was ceremonial, or she was buried with a relative’s weapon. Instead, the lens of power is applied to force a politically useful interpretation, such as declaring her a transgender man, because this interpretation serves the ideological goal of disrupting traditional norms. By pre judging the meaning of all possible evidence through its chosen lens, the system becomes hermetically sealed. It is incapable of being corrected by feedback from reality.
Once sealed from the outside, the system operates on an internal logic that rejects Internal Consistency. Because the lens views the world only as a site of struggle between opposites (oppressor and oppressed, colonizer and colonized), the system’s internal logic is inherently dialectical. It is designed to analyze and navigate contradictions, not resolve them into a coherent truth. A system built on a dialectic of struggle naturally embraces logical contradiction. This violates the principle of non contradiction and activates the principle of explosion (ex falso quodlibet), which allows any conclusion to be justified.
Consider the concepts of ‘speech’ and ‘violence’. The sealed system applies contradictory standards based on the group identity of the actor. Hurtful speech from a designated ‘oppressor’ group is labeled as literal ‘violence’. In contrast, literal violence, like property destruction or physical assault, from a designated ‘oppressed’ group is often defended as ‘speech’, a form of political protest. The same act is defined by two opposing rules, making consistent judgment impossible.
To operate this contradictory engine, the system must redefine words. The license for this comes from the core belief that all social meaning is an arbitrary “social construct.” This allows the ideology to hijack the moral authority of a respected word, like “safety” or “knowledge,” while replacing its real world meaning with an internal, political one. This tactic is a key component of how the sealed system deflects criticism.
The moral outcome of the sealed system is a worldview that offers status through grievance. Because all problems are attributed to an external, oppressive ‘system’, the individual is absolved of responsibility and is encouraged to find their identity in victimhood. This creates a prison of false equivalence, where minor social slights and catastrophic injustices are placed on the same continuum of ‘harm’.
In stark contrast, PO is a philosophy of agency and responsibility. It acknowledges that real problems and real injustices exist. However, it calls on the individual not to find their identity in the problem, but to take responsibility for the solution within their sphere of influence. It demands that we distinguish between real harm and hurt feelings, between systemic obstacles and personal failures. This ability to make careful, responsible judgments is the foundation of a life that is not only good, but also free.
This reveals the strategic imperative for a Procedural Objectivist. We do not abstain from debate with constructivist claims because we are unaware of them or afraid of them. We abstain because good faith debate requires common ground, and the sealed system is designed to eliminate it. A fish does not see the water it swims in; many who enter debates do not first check to see if both participants are swimming in the same ocean of reason and reality.
The first rule of any productive engagement is to verify that a common ground exists. For PO, that ground is the mutual acceptance of Dual Consistency. We must ask: Do you agree that our reasoning must be internally consistent and not rely on contradictions? Do you agree that our claims must ultimately be answerable to evidence from a shared, objective reality? If the answer is no, then a debate is impossible. To proceed would be to step inside their sealed system, accepting its corrupted definitions and contradictory logic. It’s a trap.
Therefore, the PO response is a principled rejection of the premises. We must refuse to enter the simulation. We must always pull the conversation back to reality and first principles. This is not a retreat from intellectual engagement; it is a refusal to participate in a rigged game. It is a demand for an honest one.
Procedural Objectivism offers an open system, humble before reality and committed to testing its ideas with consistent procedures. It is always ready for debate on the common ground of reason. The sealed system of dialectical constructivism is, by its very architecture, a closed one. PO draws this hard boundary not out of rigidity, but out of a profound commitment to the very principles of truth, goodness, and the human flourishing that only a reality based life can provide.
Having established this necessary boundary, we can now turn to the positive PO framework for understanding the real and complex social world, demonstrating how to analyze its challenges without resorting to the flawed tools of the deconstructor.
Having established the hard boundary of reason, we can now confidently apply the principles of Procedural Objectivism to the social world. This requires a tool for analysis that does not fall into the constructivist trap of dissolving reality into a text of arbitrary power. We need a clear method for distinguishing the appearance of a thing from its essential, reality based purpose.
The core tool for this analysis is the distinction between a Convention and a Consequence.
A Convention is the specific, and often arbitrary, form that an institution, tool, or behavior takes. It is the product of a particular culture, at a particular time, and is shaped by history and circumstance. For example, the convention in the United States is to drive on the right side of the road; in the United Kingdom, it is to drive on the left. The specific designs of national flags are conventions. These forms are undeniably social agreements, and a different society could choose a different convention without violating any law of physics.
A Consequence, however, is the underlying, non arbitrary function or necessity that the convention exists to solve. This function is not invented by power; it is discovered as an emergent solution to a problem or constraint imposed by objective reality. We need rules for which side of the road to drive on because of the physical reality of mass and velocity; without a shared, predictable rule, deadly collisions are a certain consequence. The need for traffic laws is therefore a consequence of reality, even if the specific law is a convention.
The fundamental error of a purely constructivist worldview is to see the arbitrary nature of the Convention and mistakenly conclude that the underlying function is also arbitrary and exists only to serve power. The Procedural Objectivist method is to see a social convention and ask the responsible, forward looking question: “What real world problem does this convention solve, and how well does it help people live and continue well?”
Let us apply this heuristic to some of the most important aspects of our social world.
We can begin with the clear example of language. The convention is the specific word used to denote a thing. The string of sounds in the English word “cat” is arbitrary; it could just as easily have been “gato” or “felis.” These are social conventions. The consequence, however, is the discovered necessity for stable, shared labels for objects and concepts. Without this shared reality of meaning, complex cooperation, the transmission of knowledge, and the very possibility of a cumulative culture would be impossible.
A similar logic applies to money. The convention is the form that money takes. Throughout history, societies have used shells, salt, precious metals, printed paper, and now digital entries in a ledger. These forms are all conventions. The consequence that these conventions serve is the solution to an inescapable problem of reality in a complex society: the “double coincidence of wants.” This is the problem where, for a barter trade to occur, I must find someone who not only has what I want, but who also wants what I have. In a specialized economy, where a baker needs shoes and a shoemaker needs bread, a direct barter system is cripplingly inefficient. Money is the discovered tool, the medium of exchange and store of value, that solves this real world constraint. To dismiss it as “just paper” is to ignore the profound, order creating function it performs.
Now let us apply this tool to the more intimate realities of Male, Female, and the Family. The conventions are the specific sets of roles and family structures a culture develops. These have varied enormously throughout history and across the globe, from the nuclear family to the extended multi generational household. PO does not deny this variance. The consequence, however, is the non negotiable biological reality that humans as males and females reproduce sexually and that our children are born uniquely helpless, requiring an immense, long term investment of time, resources, and protection to become competent, responsible adults. Any society that wishes to persist must solve this problem. Therefore, PO evaluates a culture’s family conventions not against a utopian ideal, but against a single, practical standard rooted in our foundational axiom: “How effectively does this structure ensure that life continues and continues well, from one generation to the next?” A structure that succeeds at this is good; a structure that fails at this is not.
This brings us to the crucial question of how to handle individual difference. PO recognizes the vast reality of human variation in talent, inclination, and choice. A common constructivist argument, particularly in education and cultural studies, is that this reality of human difference should lead to a relativistic conclusion: that there are no objective standards, only “different ways of knowing” or “different ways of being,” all equally valid.
PO rejects this. While there may be different valid methods to approach a problem, reality provides feedback on which ones work. The goal is not to validate all “ways,” but to cultivate competence: the demonstrable ability to achieve a desired outcome in the real world. A student who refuses to study and subsequently fails a medical exam has not shown a “different way of knowing”; they have demonstrated a lack of competence required to save lives. A culture that uses myth to explain weather patterns has a ‘different way of knowing’ than one that uses meteorology. Both are ‘ways,’ but only one allows for the accurate prediction of hurricanes and the protection of its people. Competence is judged by results. The PO solution to human difference is not to abolish standards, which leads to societal decay. It is to embrace Procedural Symmetry. A fair system with stable, impartial rules allows diverse people with different competencies to strive and find their place. It does not pretend all competencies are equal.
The PO standard for judging any “way of being,” whether an individual habit or a societal structure, begins with truth. Does it align with the knowable realities of human nature and the physical world? After establishing this alignment, we can then evaluate its consequences. Does this path lead toward living and continuing well? A society’s long term survival is powerful evidence of its functional alignment with reality, but it is not the goal itself. The goal is to build a good society based on true principles. This is a benefit of federalism, where different states can act as laboratories, testing different conventions to solve the same underlying problems. We can then judge these experiments not on their intentions, but on their merits and real world results. This is how a society learns and adapts without falling into the trap of believing there is a single, pre determined arc of history.
Just as a society must be grounded in reality, so too must its ethics. The greatest danger to a just social order is not a lack of compassion, but compassion that is detached from reality and responsibility. The principle of Tiered Self Anchored Responsibility provides the necessary, reality based framework for ethical action. Our primary duties are to those closest to us, for whom we have the most knowledge and capacity to help. The error of many modern ideologies is the inversion of this hierarchy. For ideologies like Marxism or socialism, the primary loyalty is not to one’s family, nation, or community, but to the abstract universal class of the “proletariat” or the “oppressed.” This creates a universalist ethic by necessity, one where abstract compassion for the most distant stranger is often framed as more virtuous than fulfilling one’s concrete duties.
This misplaced loyalty manifests in destructive public policy. In the realm of crime, it leads to policies where empathy for the criminal’s background is prioritized over the safety of the law abiding community. It results in prosecutors who refuse to enforce laws against theft or assault, sacrificing the real victims in the community for the sake of a feeling of compassion for the perpetrator. This is not kindness; it is a betrayal of the primary duty of the state to protect its citizens.
In the realm of public order, it manifests in policies that allow public spaces to be overrun by encampments and open drug use. Empathy for the plight of the addict is used to justify policies that destroy the safety and well being of the entire community, including its children. A PO approach would balance compassion with responsibility, providing pathways to help while enforcing the basic rules of public order necessary for a society to “live well.”
This misplaced loyalty is most stark in the debate over national borders. An abstract empathy for those wishing to enter is used to dismantle the very concept of a national community with a right to self determination. PO affirms the moral duty to have a clear, lawful, and orderly immigration process, one that asks first what is best for the well being of the nation’s current citizens. To demand that a nation sacrifice its own security and cohesion for an unbound universal empathy is to demand it betray its most fundamental responsibility.
In all these cases, the error is the same. It is the failure to recognize that empathy, when detached from the structure of tiered responsibility, becomes a destructive force. Empathy directed toward an enemy of your society’s core principles is not a virtue; it is a form of civilizational suicide.
In the end, this reveals a fundamental divide. The constructivist worldview offers a world to be deconstructed. Its primary tool is the ideological question: “How does this reality fail to match my theory of a perfect world?” It is utopian in its aims and therefore perpetually at war with the world as it is.
Procedural Objectivism offers a world of real problems to be solved and systems to be built, maintained, and improved. Its primary tool is the reality based question: “Does this work, and how can we make it work better?” It judges ideas and systems not on their intentions or their ideological purity, but on their observable consequences and their alignment with the principles that allow life to survive and flourish.
The choice is between being a perpetual idealogue, forever frustrated that reality does not conform to your vision, or taking responsibility as an architect and craftsman in a world that is real and consequential. PO provides the principles for the latter. It is a philosophy for those who wish to build.
The destructive public policies we have just examined, those that prioritize the criminal over the community, the addict over the citizen, and the abstract global good over the nation’s security, are not isolated mistakes. They are the predictable result of a flawed answer to the most crucial question of relational ethics: To whom do I owe my loyalty and my limited resources? Having firmly planted our feet on the ground of a knowable reality, we must now dissect the philosophies that lead to such disastrous consequences. Procedural Objectivism’s answer, Tiered Self-Anchored Responsibility, stands in stark, realistic contrast to its main competitors, which can be placed on a spectrum from the selfless to the selfish.
At one extreme lies Radical Altruism, the ethical belief that one’s moral duty is to prioritize the most distant and least connected entities. At the other lies pure Egoism, the belief that one should act only in ways that directly benefit oneself. Both are philosophies at war with reality. A society of altruists would see its families dissolve; a society of egoists would be a swamp of treachery.
Between these poles lies Universalism, the noble-sounding ideal that every person on earth deserves our equal ethical consideration. It argues that we should be completely impartial, that the life of a stranger is worth just as much as the life of our own child. While its allure is powerful, this philosophy fails the test of reality. It is impossible for limited humans to care for everyone equally. More dangerously, it breaks down completely when confronted by enemies. A people who treat a hostile group that does not share their universalist values with the same consideration they give their own citizens will be swiftly conquered. Universalism only appears to work in highly prosperous, secure societies that are living off the inherited capital of a past built on more realistic loyalties.
Tiered Self-Anchored Responsibility is the realistic perspective to these unworkable extremes. It acknowledges the truth of our self-anchored nature but builds upon it a structure of expanding obligation that aligns responsibility with knowledge and efficacy. You have the most detailed knowledge of how to help your own family, so your primary responsibility lies there. You are most effective at improving your own community, so that is your next sphere of action. This system creates a strong, organic society from the bottom up: healthy individuals create healthy families, healthy families create prosperous communities, and healthy communities create a resilient nation.
The practical battleground where these philosophies collide is the question of national borders. A nation is a home for a people, a distinct tier of responsibility. A nation’s border is the boundary of that home. Tiered Self-Anchored Responsibility argues for secure borders as a prerequisite for national sovereignty and community cohesion, while demanding humane, symmetrical treatment of individuals within those borders. Its rivals seek to dissolve these borders through different forms of universalist logic.
One form uses decontextualized religious ethics. A common tactic is to present a verse like Leviticus 19:34, “you shall love the alien as yourself”, and imply that this command for face-to-face kindness to a foreigner residing with you is a divine mandate for a specific national policy of open borders. This is proof-texting via insinuation. It conflates a moral duty to an individual immigrant with the political question of a nation’s immigration policy. Tiered Self-Anchored Responsibility, by contrast, applies the principle correctly within its tiers: we must treat the lawful alien in our community with dignity and fairness (Procedural Symmetry), while simultaneously upholding the nation’s right and responsibility to control its borders to protect the well-being of its citizens.
Another form of universalism comes from libertarianism. Anarcho-capitalists argue for no borders at all, proposing a world of private property where landowners decide who may enter. This ignores a fundamental reality of law. A nation’s laws are not arbitrary; they are the result of a people’s shared values and history, a generational expression of Procedural Symmetry. A system of laws requires a people who have bought into it. To dissolve the nation is to dissolve the basis of the law itself. Minarchist libertarians, meanwhile, often advocate for open borders based on abstract free-market principles, arguing for the free movement of labor to maximize global economic efficiency. This prioritizes a fictional “global citizen” over the concrete citizens of the nation. While economic principles are tools, their purpose within the PO framework must be to benefit the people of the nation enacting them, not a theoretical “global well-being.”
The most aggressive modern assault on borders comes from a progressive ideology rooted in critical theory. This view argues that national borders are illegitimate scars of “settler-colonialism.” Enforcing these borders is seen as an act of ongoing oppression. The call to action is for “no borders, no nations,” justified as a form of reparative justice. This is radical universalism framed as anti-colonialism. Its goal is the complete dissolution of the nation-state, a foundational tier of responsibility, to absolve a historical guilt. It demands that a nation abandon its right to self-preservation and its duty to its own citizens in favor of an abstract global penance.
These universalist approaches are deeply irresponsible. They demand we neglect the primary tiers of responsibility in favor of the outermost, most abstract tier. Tiered Self-Anchored Responsibility rejects this. It champions a world of concentric loyalties, a system that is both deeply human and profoundly effective. While you prioritize the well-being of your own family and community, you must insist that the public rules of the society, the laws of the land, apply equally to your group and to every other group. Your loyalty is to your people; your allegiance is to the fair procedure that governs all peoples.
After a society has chosen its ethics, it must choose its method of governance. This is the final and most critical piece of the social blueprint, for it determines whether a society will be a realm of liberty or a landscape of fear. The choice is between two alternatives: the Rule by Man or the Rule of Law.
The Rule by Man is a system where power is arbitrary, and judgments are made according to the personal will of those in authority. What is right is what the king, the dictator, or the committee decides it is on any given day. This system is a guarantee of abuse. As man is fallible and self-interested, unconstrained power inevitably degenerates into corruption, cronyism, and oppression. It is a government of unpredictability, where citizens can never be secure in their lives or their property.
The alternative is the Rule of Law. This is a system where society is governed by a set of stable, public, and generally applicable laws. Crucially, the law applies to everyone, including the rulers themselves. The government is subject to the law, not above it. This principle is the political and institutional embodiment of Procedural Symmetry. Its great virtue is predictability. It creates a stable framework within which individuals can plan their lives, start businesses, and make long-term commitments with confidence, knowing the rules of the game will not be changed on a whim.
We must acknowledge that the Rule of Law in practice will always be flawed, because it is administered by flawed human beings. But its great advantage is that it provides a basis for appeal. You cannot appeal the whim of a tyrant, but you can appeal a misapplication of the law. You can point to the written procedure and demand that it be followed. We must not discard this precious system because of its imperfections; we must appreciate the immense protection and stability it provides compared to the brutal alternative.
The value of the Rule of Law is its alignment with Principled Symmetry. The Rule of Law does not mean every law must treat every person identically. It means that any distinctions a law makes must be grounded in an objective, real-world difference that is relevant to the law’s just purpose. A law that makes distinctions based on arbitrary groupings or targets specific individuals is not Rule of Law; it is Rule by Man dressed in legal robes. The citizen’s respect is owed not to the paper, but to the principle of symmetry it embodies.
The rule of law can also be subverted through the selective application of law. When a prosecutor rigorously pursues members of one political party for a crime while ignoring the same crime committed by their own, this is not a flaw in the system; it is the Rule by Man. The person who is silent when procedures are bent to favor their own side, but who screams about injustice when those same procedures are bent against them, does not believe in the Rule of Law. They believe only in power. The value is not in having laws, but in the procedural symmetry the laws ought to embody which such selective prosecution violates.
A common error is to champion empathy as a guide for justice. Empathy is a powerful and good force within the close relationships of family and friends. It is the social glue of our inner tiers. But at the national level, policy must be based on impartial principles. For a society of millions, justice requires the impartial application of the Rule of Law, not the selective application of empathy. To apply empathy to one’s enemies, or to those whose interests run counter to the nation’s, is a form of treason against one’s own people.
Mercy, however, is different. It is not a correction for a flawed process, but a conscious act of judgment to waive a justly-applied consequence. It operates after the Rule of Law has been served and a verdict has been rendered. For example, a head of state may grant a pardon, or a victim’s family may ask the court for leniency. This does not violate the Rule of Law; it is a recognized, structured exception that reinforces the system’s legitimacy by allowing for grace. It is an acknowledgment that while the law must be rigid, a just society requires a final, human release valve.
A good legal system is one that aligns with reality: it upholds procedural symmetry, protects individual responsibility, and creates the stable conditions under which life can flourish. These principles are scalable, from the ordering of one’s own self to the governance of a nation. But they must work in concert. Tiered responsibility without procedural symmetry becomes corrupt tribalism. Judgment without humility becomes tyranny. The Rule of Law, protected by principled judgment and freed from the distortions of misplaced empathy, is the only system that provides a complete, interlocking framework for a life of reason, responsibility, and realism.
We began this book in the heart of the modern maze, lost in a disorienting noise of competing ideologies and crumbling truths. The journey through the chapters that followed was an attempt to find a way out, to find solid ground and a reliable compass. We found that ground not in a new and complex theory, but in the simplest and most powerful of axioms: Reality is Real. We chose to build our philosophical home on this bedrock of what is, not on the shifting sands of what we might feel or wish to be true.
With our feet planted firmly, we then took an honest look at ourselves, the travelers. We set aside romantic notions of human perfection and acknowledged the axioms of our nature: that we are limited, that we are self-anchored, and that we are not naturally good. This was not an act of cynicism, but of architectural realism. We had to know the properties of our building materials before we could hope to build a structure that would stand.
With our position fixed and our nature understood, we then chose our destination. To bridge the gap from “is” to “ought,” we needed a North Star, a foundational axiom of goodness. We chose the most fundamental value of all: that human life should continue and continue well. This goal, the flourishing of life, for ourselves and for the generations to come, is what gives purpose and direction to all the principles that follow.
From these foundations, we forged the tools for our journey. We embraced Judgment as the sharp tool needed to separate what serves our goal from what harms it. We adopted Procedural Symmetry as the compass for navigating our social world with fairness. We drew up the map of Tiered Self-Anchored Responsibility to show us where to apply our limited energy first. And we consulted the clock of Generational Obligation to remind us that our personal journey is but one small part of a much longer, intergenerational relay.
This philosophy does not call for passive spectators; it calls for active craftsmen. It demands that we, as individuals, take up the core virtues of a productive life. We must embrace Responsibility, the engine of all positive change, by taking ownership of our corner of the world and acting to improve it. We must cultivate Humility, the constant awareness of our own fallibility that keeps us aligned with truth. And we must commit to the Pursuit of Excellence, the disciplined drive to do what is good, and to do it well.
Finally, we saw that a life lived this way produces its own distinct and authentic aesthetic. We discovered that true Beauty is not a subjective whim or a superficial decoration. It is the visible polish of responsibility, the aesthetic glow that radiates from a piece of the world that has been brought into a state of benevolent, flourishing order through our care and effort.
It is crucial to understand that these are not discrete ideas to be adopted piecemeal, like items from a buffet. They form an interlocking, coherent system. Responsibility without humility becomes blind arrogance. Judgment without procedural symmetry becomes petty tyranny. Generational obligation without the axiom of goodness has no moral direction. The strength and resilience of Procedural Objectivism is in this wholeness, in the way each part supports and reinforces the others. It offers a coherent, interlocking framework, a common foundation of first principles, upon which a person can build a durable life, integrating it with their own deeper beliefs about the world.
This book has offered a map and a compass, a way out of the modern confusion and into a state of philosophical coherence. It does not promise dogma or an easy set of answers. It offers something far more valuable: a well-built philosophical home, a stable and reality-tested structure within which an individual, a family, and a community can not only survive the storms of life, but learn to flourish within them.
The end of this book, therefore, is the true beginning for you, the reader. The map has been laid out. The choice of whether to undertake the journey is yours alone. You can choose the path of the drifter, floating on the currents of prevailing opinion and emotion, a life of reacting rather than acting, a life that inevitably leads to a sense of fragility and powerlessness. Or you can choose the path of the craftsman.
This path is more difficult. It demands the discipline to take ownership, the courage to judge fairly, the humility to learn from your mistakes, and the persistent grit to build a worthy life. The drifter finds a piece of driftwood and complains that it is not a very good boat. The craftsman takes responsibility for the wood they have, learns the real principles of buoyancy and hydrodynamics, and painstakingly builds a vessel capable of navigating the open sea. This path does not promise happiness, but it makes a good life possible. It replaces the fragile validation of the crowd with the unshakeable foundation of self-respect. The reward is not ease, but competence; not pleasure, but meaning. It is the deep, quiet satisfaction that comes from seeing your family thrive, your work done with excellence, and your community made a little more orderly and beautiful through your efforts. The choice is yours. Will you be a commentator on the world, or a creator in it?
A philosophy is only real when it is lived. To prevent this from remaining an abstract exercise, here are five concrete actions to begin living procedurally, starting today. First, conduct a Responsibility Audit: tonight, identify one small, persistent mess in your life and take one concrete action to fix it. Second, take the Symmetry Test: the next time you feel wronged, ask yourself what general rule you wish were being followed, and whether you would be willing to live by that same rule if the situation were reversed. Third, perform a Tiered Time Allocation: track your time for one day and see if how you spend your energy aligns with your stated priorities of self, family, and community. Fourth, begin an Excellence Experiment: choose one recurring daily task and, for the next three days, commit to doing it with absolute excellence. Fifth, practice the Humility of Listening: in your next disagreement, make your primary goal not to win, but to understand your opponent’s position so well that you could argue it for them.
These are not grand, life-altering events. They are the small, repeatable exercises, the daily practice, that build the character and habits of a Procedural Objectivist. This is the work of a lifetime. The goal is not to be perfect, but to be on the path, constantly seeking to align more closely with what is real and what is good. The world does not need more critics; it needs more craftsmen. Take up your tools, and begin.
Procedural Objectivism
Epistemology: Reality is real, reality is knowable, truth is what corresponds to reality, reality is consequential. Truth matters independent of perceived consequences.
Individual: Be humble, know you are limited and selfish and not naturally good, seek excellence.
Society: Tiered self-anchored responsibility, procedural symmetry, generational obligation.
Judgment: Judgment separates what is good and what is not good, judgment is necessary.
Goodness: Goodness is rooted in the foundational axiom that human life should continue and continue well, both generationally and individually. Survival, Truth, and Procedural Symmetry are necessary for life to continue well. Judgment is necessary to separate what serves this goodness and what oppose it. Beauty arises from goodness.
Love: Love is expressed as either costly, prioritized action or as general goodwill. Enemies are a reality, but forgiveness can be offered as a “golden bridge” to those who demonstrably reform their actions.
In Procedural Objectivism, the axiom “human life should continue and continue well” is not an arbitrary starting point. It is a recognition of the foundational truth that survival is the precondition for all value. Without survival, there is no thought, no love, no justice, no beauty, no possibility at all. Yet, survival alone does not validate a belief system or moral framework. A principle may survive because it aligns with reality, but its stated justification may still be false or incomplete. This section explores the interplay between survival, reality, and reason, clarifying how Procedural Objectivism distinguishes functional alignment from doctrinal accuracy. It defends the centrality of survival as the bedrock of the Axiom of Goodness while delineating the proper role of reason within this framework.
Reason guides the experiment. Reality judges the result. This phrase captures a core principle. Reason is a tool for hypothesis, not a source of absolute truth. Reality provides the feedback that separates functional alignment from abstract error. We use reason to organize our thoughts, to build models, to design ways to test our ideas. But the ultimate arbiter is not the elegance of our logic or the purity of our intentions. It is the consequence. It is what actually happens in the world. Reality judges not by creed, but by consequence. What survives does so because it aligns, intentionally or accidentally, with the structure of being. Truth is revealed not just in logic, but in longevity. A belief or practice may persist because it works, even if its internal logic is flawed or mythical. Survival is not proof of truth, but it is evidence of functional alignment with reality. A community’s high fertility or social cohesion may reflect survival-congruent behavior, but this does not validate its metaphysical claims. Reason, divorced from reality, becomes hallucination. The liberal rationalist error lies in assuming that logical consistency alone guarantees alignment with reality.
The common logic of evolution, science, and survival reveals a unifying principle: truth emerges through feedback from reality. Consider biological evolution. It operates through differential survival. Traits that align with environmental constraints persist; those that do not, vanish. A gazelle’s speed, a cactus’s water retention, or a human’s capacity for cooperation are not “true” in a propositional sense but are functionally aligned with reality’s demands. Evolution does not care for explanations; it selects for what works. The scientific method accelerates this process through deliberate experimentation. Hypotheses are tested against reality’s feedback, observation, falsification, replication. Like evolution, science does not “prove” absolute truth; it eliminates error. A theory survives because it aligns with observable reality, even if its underlying assumptions are later revised, as Newtonian physics gave way to relativity. Civilizations and cultures operate on this same principle. Cultural systems, religions, philosophies, traditions, are subject to the same reality-checking. Practices that foster survival, generational continuity, and order persist. A community that prioritizes family, responsibility, and procedural fairness may thrive, even if its theological or metaphysical justifications are contested. Survival here is not a moral endorsement but evidence of functional coherence.
Reason is indispensable. It is humanity’s most powerful tool for navigating reality. It helps us organize thought, detect contradictions, and design experiments. But reason alone cannot discover truth. It requires reality’s feedback to correct its course. Many modern ideologies, rooted in classical liberalism, postmodernism, or technocratic utopianism, assume that logical consistency or moral intention suffices to guide action. This leads to profound failures. Abstract egalitarianism that ignores biological or social constraints. Policy failures, like open-border ideologies that disregard demographic collapse. Moral posturing that prioritizes “virtue signaling” over functional outcomes. Such systems fail because they divorce reason from reality’s consequences. Procedural Objectivism insists that reason must serve reality. A principle’s validity is not determined by its elegance or moral sentiment but by its ability to survive the test of time and generate individuals and institutions that persist, adapt, and flourish.
The Axiom of Goodness, “human life should continue and continue well”, is rooted in the revealed preference of existence itself. Every living person is the product of ancestors who chose survival, either consciously or instinctively. This is not a value imposed on reality but inferred from it. Why is survival key? Because without it, no other value is possible. Survival demands alignment. To survive is to have, at minimum, accidental coherence with reality’s structure. Survival enables flourishing. The second clause of the Axiom “continue well” elevates survival from mere existence to purposeful thriving. But survival does not validate doctrine. A belief system’s survival may reflect its functional alignment with reality, perhaps promoting family cohesion or productive labor, but does not prove its metaphysical claims, such as divine command or social constructivism. PO evaluates practices, not creeds. If a system generates individuals who uphold procedural symmetry, tiered responsibility, and generational obligation, it is provisionally “good” within PO’s framework, even if its stated justifications are flawed.
This focus on human survival is not arbitrary or chauvinistic. It reflects a fundamental constraint: we are human. We cannot see the world through the perspective of a clownfish or a universe. Any philosophy meant to guide human action must begin with the fact of human existence and the imperative of human survival. To legislate for the well-being of another species or an abstract cosmic principle would be an act of profound arrogance, a detachment from our own place in reality. The axiom that “human life should continue and continue well” is human-centered because we are human, and this philosophy is written for and by humans. To choose a foundation hostile or indifferent to our own survival is a performative contradiction, a philosophy that wills its own irrelevance. This starting point is the most reality-based, non-negotiable, and responsible foundation for a philosophy that is meant to be lived.
Procedural Objectivism is not a philosophy of abstract rationalism or blind traditionalism. It is a realism of action, where truth is discovered at the intersection of reason and reality’s feedback. Survival is the first test of alignment, but not the final word on truth. Reason guides the experiment; reality judges the result. By grounding the Axiom of Goodness in survival and flourishing, PO avoids both nihilism and dogmatism. It acknowledges that truth is revealed in consequences. Reality judges not by creed but by the persistence of what works. Reason must serve reality. Without humility and correction, reason becomes a tool of delusion. Survival is necessary but insufficient. To live well requires not just alignment but excellence, virtue, and the courage to judge. In this framework, the goal is not to worship survival but to harness its logic for the sake of a life that is good, true, and beautiful. Reality is consequential. Truth is its reflection. Survival is the first vote in the ballot box of existence, but only excellence ensures the next election.
The social and ethical instructions of Jesus of Nazareth are often misinterpreted in modern discourse. His words are frequently lifted out of their context and used to promote a political program of universal altruism and non-judgment that no serious reading of the text can defend. Because these perversions are used to shape society and co-opt religious institutions for secular, ideological ends, it is necessary to briefly analyze the internal logic of Jesus’s social teachings. This is not a theological commentary, but a refutation of a common political tactic of subversion or using your enemies values against themselves. A close look reveals that his teachings form a coherent and realistic framework for personal conduct that demonstrates symmetrical procedure, prioritized responsibility, and the necessity of judgment.
One instance of this ideological assimilation is the effort to reinterpret the biblical framework, making it subservient to worldviews that prioritize an abstract “earth” over the value of human life. This is a direct inversion of the scriptural order of value. The first and most foundational command given to humanity, first to Adam and later reiterated to Noah, is to “Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth” (Genesis 1:28). This directive establishes the generational continuation of human life as the preeminent good and the primary task. This biblical priority is functionally similar to Procedural Objectivism’s Axiom of Goodness: that life should continue and continue well. The ethical teachings of Jesus, therefore, are not a call to subordinate humanity; they are the practical instructions for how to build a society that can successfully fulfill this command.
The principle of Jesus’s ethical system to man is procedural symmetry. He states it plainly: “In everything, therefore, treat people the same way you want them to treat you, for this is the Law and the Prophets” (Matthew 7:12). This is not a suggestion for a general feeling of goodwill; it is a clear, universal procedure for testing the morality of any action. You must be willing to be subject to the same standard you apply to others.
This demand for consistent procedure extends to the very act of interaction within a community. The Apostle James, applying the teachings of the Master, directly condemns favoritism within the assembly. He warns against granting special honor to the wealthy while demeaning the poor: “My brothers, do not hold your faith in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ with an attitude of personal favoritism. For if a man comes into your assembly with a gold ring and dressed in fine clothes, and a poor man in dirty clothes also comes in, and you pay special attention to the one who is wearing the fine clothes, and say, ‘You sit here in a good place,’ and you say to the poor man, ‘You stand over there, or sit down by my footstool,’ have you not made distinctions among yourselves, and become judges with evil motives?” (James 2:1-4). James demands that the procedure of welcome and respect be applied equally, regardless of an individual’s external status. He does not call for the wealthy to divest their riches to make outcomes equal; he calls for the equal application of dignity and impartiality within the communal space.
The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant is a stark illustration of the consequences of violating this principle. A man is forgiven an insurmountable debt by his king, an act of supreme mercy. He has had a procedure of grace applied to him. He then immediately finds a man who owes him a trivial sum and, refusing to apply the same procedure of mercy, has him thrown into prison. The servant’s error was not his initial debt, but his procedural hypocrisy. His final, severe punishment from the king is the direct and just consequence of this violation of symmetry (Matthew 18:23-35).
This principle extends to final judgment. In the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats, the separation is based on a consistent procedure of action. The question is how one treated “the least of these brothers of Mine.” Those who fed the hungry, clothed the naked, and visited the prisoner are judged to have done so to the Lord himself. The standard is symmetrical: one’s treatment of the lowest tier of society is taken as one’s treatment of the highest. The judgment is based not on feeling, but on a consistent record of right action (Matthew 25:31-46).
This demand for righteous procedure necessitates judgment. The common refrain to “judge not” is a fragment, ripped from its context. The full command is a condemnation of hypocritical judgment: “Why do you look at the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? … You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye” (Matthew 7:3-5). This is not a prohibition of judgment, but a prerequisite for it. One must first take responsibility and apply judgment to oneself. Only then can one judge others with the clarity and authority required.
Jesus himself was not non-judgmental. He openly condemned the scribes and Pharisees as a “brood of vipers” and “whitewashed tombs,” a sharp and public judgment of their character (Matthew 23:33, 27). His mercy was always paired with a demand for responsibility. To the woman caught in adultery, he offers protection from her accusers but immediately commands, “Go, and from now on sin no more” (John 8:11). Mercy is extended, but it is not permissiveness. It is a bridge to a better life, contingent on the individual’s choice to abandon his or her destructive actions.
Jesus’s ethics also reject universalism in favor of a clear, tiered structure of responsibility. This is demonstrated in his response to two distinct situations. The Parable of the Good Samaritan defines our reactive duty when confronted with a crisis. An expert in the Law asks, “And who is my neighbor?” seeking to define the limits of his obligation. Jesus tells the story of a man left “half dead” on the road. A priest and a Levite pass by, refusing to take responsibility. A Samaritan, a member of a despised out-group, stops. He acts because a life is in immediate danger. His intervention is a direct fulfillment of the foundational principle that life should continue. Jesus re-frames the question from “Who is my neighbor?” to “Which of these…proved to be a neighbor?” (Luke 10:29, 36). The answer is found in the responsible deed. This parable is not a call for universalism; it is a condemnation of using rules to evade responsibility in the face of a life-or-death emergency.
This principle of reactive duty is balanced by a clear understanding of proactive, tiered priorities. The anointing at Bethany illustrates this. When his disciples object that the expensive perfume used on him could have been sold and the money given to the poor, they are making a universalist argument. Jesus rebukes them directly: “For you always have the poor with you; but you do not always have Me” (Matthew 26:11). He establishes an undeniable hierarchy of duty. The immediate, specific, and high-tier obligation to him, in that moment, takes precedence over the general and abstract obligation to the poor.
While Jesus’s own words often focused on the ultimate priority of his divine mission, the task of building sustainable, righteous communities required his followers to apply these principles to the practicalities of household and civic life. The Apostle Paul, in his pastoral instructions, makes this hierarchy of responsibility explicit and non-negotiable. He writes that if “anyone does not provide for his own, and especially for those of his household, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever” (1 Timothy 5:8). This is a bright line. The duty to one’s own household is a foundational, non-negotiable tier of responsibility, a prerequisite for a credible faith.
This structure clarifies the command to “love your enemies” (Matthew 5:44). The Greek word used, agape, signifies a disciplined love of the will. It is a chosen disposition of goodwill, not a passive feeling. Jesus provides the specific, non-material action this love requires: to “pray for those who persecute you.” The command is not to provide for your enemy as you would your family, but to hold them in a posture of principled non-malice before God.
This distinction is crucial when understanding enemies in their civic context. A clear example is the Roman soldier who, by law, could compel a Jewish citizen to carry his pack for one mile. Jesus’s instruction to “go with him two miles” (Matthew 5:41) is a strategy for this reality. The first mile is an act of compulsion; the second mile is an act of principled choice. This is a strategy for navigating conflict within a shared social order; it is an instruction in discernment, not a command for self-destruction. It teaches one to wisely handle impositions from a civic authority, while holding firm to the responsibility to defend oneself, one’s family, and one’s community from those who would act as a true enemy and seek to destroy them.
Jesus himself established clear boundaries. He instructed his disciples, “If anyone will not receive you or listen to your words, as you leave that house or city, shake the dust off your feet” (Matthew 10:14). There is no infinite obligation to invest one’s limited time and energy in those who are hostile. The prerequisite for any engagement with Jesus was humility. He did not engage with those who believed they were already good. His time was for those who knew they were flawed: “I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners” (Mark 2:17). This is a recognition that goodness is not our default state. Acknowledging one’s own flawed nature and limitations, having humility, is the first step toward a moral life.
The social teachings of Jesus form a cohesive and practical framework for life. This framework is built upon the principle of procedural symmetry, non-hypocritical judgment, a hierarchy of prioritized responsibilities, and firm boundaries against those who are hostile. It is not a program for utopia. It is a guide for how a flawed and limited individual, humbly aware of his or her own nature, can take responsibility and live a good and honorable life in a fallen world.
This is obviously not the whole of Jesus’ words. This is to only refute those who would twist Jesus’ words for their own ends and attempt to turn someone else’s morality against themselves.