We are in the society of the teacher-judge, the doctor-judge, the

Hear the voice of Michel Foucault, who revealed the hidden chains of modern life: “We are in the society of the teacher-judge, the doctor-judge, the educator-judge, the ‘social-worker’-judge; it is on them that the universal reign of the normative is based; and each individual, wherever he may find himself, subjects to it his body, his gestures, his behavior, his aptitudes, his achievements.” This is no idle reflection, but a revelation of power’s subtlety, for in these words Foucault unmasks the invisible courts before which every man and woman stands, not once but always.

The ancients spoke of kings and tyrants who ruled with iron and spear, but Foucault shows us a new dominion, softer yet more binding. No longer does the whip crack openly, nor the jailer rattle his keys. Instead, the teacher-judge in the classroom, the doctor-judge in the hospital, the educator-judge in the academy, the social-worker-judge in the community—all wield judgment, cloaked in care. They measure, they compare, they decide what is normal and what is deviant, what is successful and what is failure. Thus is born the quiet empire of the normative, where each individual, fearing shame or exclusion, disciplines himself more harshly than any master could.

Consider the story of the Victorian asylum. In those halls, men and women deemed “mad” were confined, not always for crimes, but for failing to conform to the expected gestures and behaviors of their age. Women who spoke too freely, men who dreamed too wildly, children too restless—all could be marked as disordered. The doctor-judge, clothed in the authority of science, declared them unfit, and thus they were silenced. Yet often, what was condemned as madness was simply difference, creativity, rebellion. In such stories we see how the normative can smother the human spirit under the guise of care.

But let us not think this belongs only to the past. In schools today, the child who cannot sit still is judged defective; in workplaces, the man who does not meet the measured achievements is deemed unworthy; in hospitals, the patient who does not heal according to schedule is scolded. Everywhere, we are watched, recorded, ranked. It is not a tyrant upon a throne, but countless small judgments, multiplied until they form the great invisible prison of conformity. This is what Foucault called the reign of the normative—a rule not of swords but of expectations.

And yet, this vision is not without hope. For to see the chain is the first step to loosening it. If we recognize the power of the teacher-judge, the doctor-judge, the educator-judge, then we may begin to ask: must judgment always accompany care? Must help always disguise surveillance? Must knowledge always become a tool of discipline? The strength of the individual lies in awareness, in refusing to become a mere body to be measured, a gesture to be corrected, a statistic to be compared.

The lesson is this: live with vigilance, and question the judgments that surround you. Ask yourself—does this rule protect, or does it control? Does this measurement uplift, or does it diminish? When you find yourself bending under the weight of invisible expectations, stand straighter, and remember that the worth of a soul is not captured in numbers, charts, or assessments. The normative is powerful, but it is not eternal; it exists only so long as individuals consent to submit their lives entirely to it.

Therefore, in your daily life, practice both awareness and resistance. Do not be swift to judge others by the scales society hands you. Encourage difference, nurture strangeness, honor the unmeasured gifts of those around you. And when you are judged, do not accept blindly; weigh whether the judgment serves your growth or merely your conformity. For in this lies true freedom: to see the invisible court, and to choose whether you shall bow before it or walk your own path.

Thus remember: the reign of the normative is vast, but it is not destiny. The individual who knows his chains has already begun to break them. And the society that learns to care without condemning, to guide without judging, shall walk closer to justice than any empire built on silent submission.