Are These Data Sufficient for Decision-Making?

It may be argued that this study, regardless of the breadth of its data and the statistical significance of many of its findings, still does not establish a causal relationship between the form of government and national performance. From a methodological perspective, this objection is largely valid. In empirical science—and especially in the social sciences—definitively establishing causation is often impossible, because no researcher can simultaneously turn the same country into both a republic and a monarchy while holding all other conditions perfectly constant.

But the more important question is this: if absolute proof of causation is impossible, should empirical evidence therefore be ignored?

All empirical sciences, from medicine to economics, operate according to this same logic. No drug is approved simply because its causal effect has been established with 100 percent certainty. A drug is accepted when a body of empirical evidence shows, with sufficiently high confidence, that patients are more likely to benefit from taking it than from not taking it.

If multiple studies show that patients receiving Drug A have statistically significantly better outcomes than patients receiving Drug B, no scientific institution concludes that, because the possibility of unknown factors cannot be reduced to zero, no decision should be made. On the contrary, those empirical findings become the basis for regulatory approval, clinical guidelines, and medical recommendations—while remaining open to revision if new evidence emerges. Just as modern medicine makes decisions on the basis of the best available evidence rather than absolute certainty—Evidence-Based Medicine—a scientific choice among models of governance should likewise be based on the best available empirical evidence, not on ideals or ideological assumptions.

If the choice of a form of government is to be approached scientifically, it should follow the same logic. If, over many decades, hundreds of countries, billions of people, and successive generations have unintentionally participated in a vast historical experiment, producing measurable outcomes, it would be irrational to disregard that evidence simply because causation cannot be demonstrated with absolute certainty.

In science, the absence of absolute certainty does not mean the absence of a rational basis for decision-making. Almost no important decision in medicine, engineering, economics, or public policy is made under conditions of complete certainty. What decisions are based on is the best available evidence.

It is equally important, however, not to draw conclusions that go beyond what the findings actually show. This study does not prove that every monarchy will succeed merely because it is a monarchy, or that every republic will fail merely because it is a republic. Nor does it prove that the form of government is the only factor determining a country’s success.

But the study does provide one important conclusion: if someone today wished to choose between two broad models of government solely on the basis of the available empirical evidence, without relying on ideological assumptions, the findings of this study would give that person reason at least to question the presumed self-evident superiority of the republic and to regard monarchy as an alternative for which the existing evidence provides stronger support in terms of observed performance.

If someone still considers this evidence insufficient for decision-making, then that person must explain what kind of evidence could realistically be broader, more costly, or more long-term than this for comparing two forms of government. If evidence on this scale is still considered insufficient, the critic must explain what superior form of empirical evidence could in principle be produced. What exactly are we waiting for before making a scientific judgment?

Science does not place human beings between “certainty” and “ignorance.” It requires us, at every moment, to make decisions on the basis of the best evidence available. If humanity had refused to act until absolute certainty was achieved, no medicine would ever have been approved, no bridge would have been built, no aircraft would have flown, and no public policy would ever have been implemented. What has advanced modern civilization has not been absolute certainty, but confidence in the best available empirical evidence, combined with a willingness to revise decisions in light of better evidence. “The absence of absolute certainty is not a license to ignore the best available evidence.” If we set aside the best available evidence, it will not be replaced by better evidence; it will be replaced by assumptions, preferences, and ideologies. Science is not a substitute for ideology; it is a substitute for decision-making without evidence. Rejecting the best available evidence does not make a person neutral; it merely means that the decision will be based on something else—tradition, emotion, ideology, or habit.

No new experiment was conducted on human beings for this book. The experiment had already taken place, across decades and around the world, before this research began. Hundreds of countries, billions of people, and successive generations have, willingly or unwillingly, lived under two different broad models of government, and the consequences have been recorded in international indicators. This study has merely attempted to translate that enormous historical experience into the language of statistics. The researcher did not pay the cost of generating these data; history did. History has been the largest laboratory of political science, and we have simply read its results. “History is the laboratory; statistics are the record book of that laboratory’s results.”

Today, if someone asks me:

“Have you proved that monarchy causes success?”

My book answers:

“No.”

If they ask:

“Have you proved that republics fail?”

Again, the answer is:

“No.”

But if they ask:

“If we were to judge today between two broad models of governance solely on the basis of the best empirical evidence currently available, in which direction does that evidence point?”

Then my book can answer with confidence:

“The data in this study answer that question, not my assumptions.”

I am not asking you to trust me. I am asking you to do what science asks of us: examine the best available evidence and then judge for yourself.

So far, the performance of contemporary monarchies and republics has been examined using fourteen internationally recognized indicators. Across all fourteen, monarchies had higher mean values than republics, and in twelve cases the difference was statistically significant. In the remaining two indicators, although the main tests did not reach statistical significance, no statistically significant evidence was found in the direction contrary to the research hypothesis.

Even so, such findings should not be expected to transform prevailing political beliefs overnight. The history of science shows that people rarely abandon intellectual frameworks they have lived with for years simply and immediately. Max Planck, the distinguished German physicist, described this phenomenon in the following way:

“A new scientific truth does not triumph by convincing its opponents; rather, its opponents eventually disappear, and a new generation grows up familiar with it.”

If the findings of this study appear inconsistent with some widely held beliefs, such a reaction would hardly be surprising. The history of science repeatedly shows that paradigm shifts usually occur gradually rather than suddenly.

The book began with Aristarchus, who showed that evidence can prevail over intuition. It ends with Planck, who reminds us that even after the evidence has spoken, changing beliefs takes time.

But the central question remains: if a country today wished to make decisions about its model of governance solely on the basis of the best available empirical evidence, would it be rational to ignore that evidence merely because it does not provide absolute certainty?

Science has never required human beings to refrain from making decisions until certainty is complete. On the contrary, in medicine, engineering, economics, and other empirical disciplines, decisions are routinely made on the basis of the best available evidence, with the understanding that they can be revised if better evidence later emerges.

The purpose of this book, therefore, is not to defend a political ideology, but to defend a method of judgment: if we are to choose between competing theories of government, that judgment should, as far as possible, be based on their measurable consequences rather than merely on the appeal of the ideals they promise to realize.

History does not cast its vote through slogans; it casts its vote through consequences. This book is an attempt to read those consequences.

Throughout this study, I have tried not to act as an advocate for my own hypothesis, but simply as a translator of the evidence. I have tried not to fill gaps in the evidence with confident rhetoric, because I believe that transparent reasoning is stronger than emphatic assertion.

Aristarchus taught us that truth does not always emerge from prevailing beliefs; sometimes the evidence must be rearranged and examined anew. This book is likewise an attempt, when thinking about government, to ask history and its data before asking ideology.

Carl Sagan famously said: “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.” At this point in the book, I would like to borrow from him and offer a sentence that is both similar and different: “Extraordinary claims do not require extraordinary rhetoric; they require extraordinarily transparent evidence.”

The final judgment belongs to the reader. But if that judgment is to be scientific, it must be based on the best empirical evidence available, not on assumptions that disregard that evidence. So go as far as the data allow—and no farther. But when the data truly have spoken, do not be afraid to state what they say.