“Liberal” has become a difficult word. For many people, it now carries negative ideas of inequality, selfishness or distance from the common good. This feeling is not new. Since the late nineteenth century, voices in Europe and the United States have questioned whether liberalism was still serving people, or only serving those with power. What began as a philosophy of freedom and human progress slowly turned into something rigid, often used to defend markets, private gain and the idea that everyone should simply look after themselves.

When I came across Nicolas Prévélakis’s article Du libéralisme: retour aux sources pour réinvestir le bien commun, I first wanted to reject it completely. How could we still defend liberalism when we see social despair, ecological crises and the rise of authoritarian leaders?

But I paused and decided to read it properly. After all, real debate means understanding both sides, not just reacting to emotions.

Forgotten morality

My first contact with economics was during my studies. Like many, I learned about Adam Smith’s “invisible hand” and how markets balance themselves through self-interest. But what I did not learn enough about was Smith’s other major idea: the moral base behind our actions.

In The Theory of Moral Sentiments, he writes that our choices should be guided by sympathy and a sense of what is right for others. He believed that without moral feelings, society could not work properly.

Over time, liberal societies tried to build this morality into their laws and institutions. But institutions are only strong if people believe in them. Today, many are being weakened or questioned, often in the name of “freedom”. Some groups want to remove the rules that limit their own power, claiming it will make society more liberal. In truth, it only makes it more selfish. The faster the (fake) news moves, the easier it becomes to lose trust and forget what connects us.

Institutions alone cannot carry morality. They need citizens who still care about shared decency and act for something larger than themselves. But can that shared sense of decency still exist in a global world?

Living together in a global world

Today we live in systems that reward speed, profit and visibility. Decisions are often taken with a short-term view, focused on quarterly results or political cycles, while the long-term consequences are left for others to face. This way of thinking has deep effects on our societies and on our planet. It weakens trust, damages the environment and feeds the feeling that nothing truly belongs to us anymore.

Globalisation has brought progress, but also distance. People live under the same economic rules yet hold very different values, histories and beliefs. Without something shared, it becomes harder to act together. We see this in climate policies, in social protection, and even in the sense of identity. Some react by turning inwards or by looking for strong leaders who promise simple answers.

We need to move beyond that. Our world will only continue to prosper if we rebuild a sense of belonging that crosses borders. Shared values like fairness, solidarity and care for the planet can guide us again if we decide to act with them in mind. The question is not whether we can afford it, but whether we can afford not to.

If we want our democracies to endure, we must rebuild a shared sense of community and moral purpose.

Freedom, success and responsibility

Freedom cannot mean doing whatever we want without limits. A fair society must set rules when private interests harm the common good. Those who succeed in such a society have a societal debt, a reciprocal responsibility to give back in proportion to what they have received.

Success is something to celebrate, but it is rarely the result of hard work alone. It also depends on opportunity, timing, and the support of others. People build their path with effort and courage, but the environment (education, trust, public safety, fair competition) makes that success possible. The most successful people benefit the most from this environment, and so they should contribute proportionally more to keep it alive.

A moral return is not about guilt. It is about fairness and gratitude. When those who have gained the most reinvest in the community, they protect the very system that helped them to grow.

But to make this possible, citizens need to believe again in their power to shape the future together.

Story and political action

Democracy is more than voting. It is the ability to take part in a shared project and to believe that our voices matter. Yet today, politics often looks backwards, repeating old stories of the past, while companies speak about the future, purpose and belonging. Businesses know that people want to build something that lasts, something hopeful for the next generation. Nations should do the same.

We need a story that looks both ways: rooted in our history and culture, but also open to the future. Stories alone are not enough, of course. They must be turned into concrete action. The example of the French Citizens’ Convention for Climate showed that participation is possible, but it also showed what happens when decisions are ignored. When stories and actions do not meet, trust disappears.

Politics must give people both a voice and a vision, one that looks forward without forgetting where we come from. And if this is true for nations, it is even more so for Europe.

A European renewal

Europe remains one of the most ambitious human projects of our time. It has brought peace, cooperation and freedom of movement. But for many citizens, it feels far away, run by institutions that are difficult to reach. If Europe wants to stay relevant, it must rebuild from the ground up.

Real democracy grows from local communities. Europe should learn from this and make sure every citizen feels represented, not only by states but as part of a shared story. A renewed Europe would combine unity and diversity, giving space for each voice while protecting common values like justice, solidarity and freedom.

Europe is not the only place where this work should happen, but it can be a model. It can show how people from different backgrounds can still believe in the same idea of the common good.

And this brings us back to the question that started it all: can liberalism still serve the common good?

Conclusion

When I first reacted to Prévélakis’s article, I felt anger at the word “liberal”. Now, after reading, reflecting and writing, I see that the problem is not liberalism itself, but how we have come to frame it. The word liberal once carried the idea of people acting freely while caring for one another and for the common good. Over time, it became mixed with capitalism, competition and short-term interests.

What matters today is not to defend a philosophy but to rebuild societies where freedom, fairness and responsibility walk together. The word liberalism can take back its original meaning if we root it again in solidarity, equality of chances and moral purpose. It must be about people, about how we live, work and care for one another, not about markets or ideologies.

If we manage that, our democracies can stay alive, our communities can stay strong, and freedom can remain something we share, not something we lose to indifference.