No Crown, No Order: Life in a City Ruled by Guns
Power Book IV: Force drops Tommy Egan into Chicago, a city already fractured by rival gangs, corrupt politicians, and unstable alliances. Unlike New York, where hierarchy and rules once structured the drug world, Chicago is chaotic. Multiple crews—Flynn, CBI, the Serbs, and others—are constantly testing one another’s boundaries. There is no shared code, no universally respected authority, and no lasting trust.
Tommy enters this environment as an outsider with a reputation for brutality and efficiency. From the moment he arrives, survival depends on force. Negotiations fail quickly. Alliances are temporary. Loyalty is conditional. Violence is not a last resort—it’s the primary language of power. Whoever hesitates dies.
What’s striking about Force is how unstable power feels. Control must be constantly reasserted through intimidation, threats, and bloodshed. Even those who sit “on top” live in fear of betrayal. The show doesn’t romanticize order, it shows how quickly it collapses when no one has the unquestioned authority to enforce it. Chicago becomes a battlefield where everyone is armed, paranoid, and ready to strike first—because waiting is fatal.
This constant instability raises a sociological question at the heart of the series: what keeps society from tearing itself apart when there is no legitimate power? Enter Thomas Hobbes.
Life Without the Leviathan: Hobbes, Fear, and the War of All Against All
Thomas Hobbes, writing in the 17th century, had a famously bleak view of human nature. He believed that without a powerful governing authority, humans exist in what he called the state of nature—a condition where there are no laws, no enforceable rules, and no overarching power to keep people in check.
In this state, Hobbes argued, life becomes a “war of all against all.” People act out of fear, self-preservation, and desire for power. Trust is irrational because anyone could turn on you at any moment. Violence isn’t an exception—it’s the default. As a result, life is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”
To escape this chaos, Hobbes believed people collectively surrender their freedom to a sovereign authority—the Leviathan—who monopolizes force. This ruler doesn’t need to be moral or kind. Their legitimacy comes from their ability to enforce order through fear. Peace exists not because people are good, but because they are scared of punishment.
For Hobbes, force isn’t a failure of power—it is power. Without it, society collapses.
No Leviathan, No Peace: Why Order Fails in Force
Chicago in Power Book IV: Force is a textbook Hobbesian nightmare. There is no true Leviathan. Instead, multiple actors compete to fill that role, each attempting to impose order through violence. Because no single power successfully monopolizes force, the city remains locked in permanent instability.
Every crew behaves exactly as Hobbes predicts humans would in the state of nature. Trust is scarce. Alliances are strategic rather than moral. Characters assume the worst of one another because assuming otherwise is dangerous. Violence becomes preemptive—strike first, or you won’t get the chance later.
Tommy’s role is especially revealing. He doesn’t just use violence; he understands its symbolic power. Fear becomes his currency. When he kills, it’s not only to eliminate threats but to send messages. This mirrors Hobbes’ sovereign, whose authority depends on making punishment visible enough to deter resistance.
However, Force also shows the limits of Hobbesian power. Every attempt to rule through force alone is unstable. The Flynn family’s grip weakens the moment their fear factor slips. CBI fractures under internal power struggles. Even Tommy, arguably the most capable enforcer, can’t fully stabilize the city because his authority is constantly contested. Violence creates temporary order, but it also breeds resentment and retaliation.
This reflects a core tension in Hobbes’ theory: force can create peace, but only if it is absolute and uncontested. Chicago lacks a true Leviathan, so violence multiplies instead of disappearing. Everyone tries to rule; no one fully succeeds.
The show also subtly critiques Hobbes. While fear prevents immediate chaos, it destroys long-term trust and loyalty. Characters obey not because they believe in the system, but because they’re terrified. The moment fear weakens, rebellion follows. Power must constantly escalate to survive, creating a cycle of brutality that never ends.
In this way, Force becomes a dramatized sociological experiment. It asks: Is order worth the cost of constant violence? Hobbes would say yes—chaos is worse. The show is less certain. It exposes how force-based power traps everyone inside it, rulers and subjects alike.
Fear Is the Price of Order
Power Book IV: Force doesn’t just depict violence—it explains it. Through a Hobbesian lens, the show reveals a world where fear replaces law, survival replaces morality, and power exists only as long as it can be enforced. In the absence of a true Leviathan, Chicago becomes exactly what Hobbes warned us about: a society where peace is impossible, and force is the only thing anyone understands.
