By Margarita Kaimaklioti

“The sea does not belong to tyrants. On its surface, people can still impose unjust laws, wage war, tear one another apart, and be swept away by the atrocities of the land. But thirty feet below its surface, their dominion ceases, their influence fades, and their power vanishes.”

Seeking refuge from the heat wave that brought Belgium to its knees, we found ourselves at a wonderful aquarium in northern France. As I explained to our 8-year-old daughter the meaning of the “depths” and the “abyss,” Vern’s words above kept circling in my mind, returning years later, as if it had been patiently waiting for the right moment to reveal its true meaning.

Verne visits me in a different role. Not as a science fiction writer, nor as a visionary of science. But as a thinker on freedom—a concept that has fascinated me since childhood.

Verne’s depths are a place free from human vanity. A world where the ambitions of power cease to have meaning or power. Where military conflicts or any other strife, oppression, and unjust laws end at the surface.

So I wonder if such a place exists today.

Modern tyrants do not always resemble those described in history books. Not all of them carry weapons. Not all of them deliver speeches from balconies. Often they take root in our false certainties. Others in our anger. Others in our inability to listen and understand before we rush to respond.

We live in an age that seems to fear silence and worship noise. Everything calls on us to react immediately. To take a stand before we even think. To respond before we listen. To condemn before we understand.

And just like that, without even realizing it, we give up the most precious part of our freedom: our right to take our time to think.

It’s not at all easy to think in a world that almost obsessively rewards quick reactions and herd mentality. It’s not easy to admit that you might not know enough. That the person across from you might possess a piece of the truth that you’re unaware of. That reality doesn’t always fit within the narrow confines of a slogan or a social media post.

Perhaps that’s why level-headedness and composure have been so widely misunderstood. Because they’re confused with weakness. In reality, however, while anger offers momentary relief, thinking is a laborious process. It’s easy to shout, but self-restraint requires depth and character.

And I, like all of us, have been swept up in the noise. I’ve felt the need to respond immediately, to defend a position before I’ve had a chance to weigh it carefully. I have sometimes allowed current events to dictate the pace of my thinking.

Perhaps that is why I return to the depths of Verne. Because I want to believe that we can still create a sanctuary within ourselves where modern tyrants cannot reach us. A space where our moral compass will point the way, unaffected by the trends of the times. Where we will remember that truth is not measured by applause. Where dignity does not depend on the mob’s approval.

Because societies do not lose their freedom only when tyrants appear. They lose it also when citizens cease to defend their hard-won right to think freely. When the clamor silences the conscience.

Verne placed this freedom thirty feet below the sea. I want to believe that it lies much closer. It lies in that moment of the day when every person consciously decides not to let the clamor of the times drown out the voice of their conscience. The moment they look deep within themselves to listen to universal truths: love, solidarity, common sense, and faith in the common good.

* Margarita Kaimaklioti is a political scientist, Deputy Secretary for International Relations of the Democratic Alarm and a member of the Executive Council of the Glafkos Clerides Institute.