
The last question was asked on Reaping Day. As the questioner was dragged away, the entirety of Panem watched in silence, the question lingering in the air, uncomfortable and dangerous: Why do we accept this? But questions, like rebellions, have consequences.
A few minutes later, names were drawn, children were taken, and the crowd stood silent. Every year, the system tightened its grip – not because it was just but because nobody dared to question it anymore. In a world where fear replaces the pursuit of justice, even the cruellest systems begin to feel normal. This is an example from the popular Hunger Games series, a stark illustration of how a society can become insensitive to the oppression it faces when questions go unasked. This moment feels fictional, yet uncomfortably familiar. It shows how easily people can grow used to injustice when questioning disappears. When fear replaces curiosity and silence begins, even cruelty can start to feel normal. And that’s the unsettling truth: if people stop asking difficult questions, they don’t just accept the system, they quietly allow it to become worse.
Democracy is often celebrated as a system of elections, representation, and rights. Yet, its endurance depends less on its institution and more on the habits of its people. Among these habits, the willingness to question the system stands paramount. When citizens question power, demand evidence and challenge leaders, they reinforce accountability and transparency. At the most basic level, questioning is directly proportional to accountability. For instance, Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index (2025) shows that countries such as Denmark and Norway, which consistently rank among the least corrupt nations in the world, have an active, questioning citizenry that demands transparency at every level of governance, compared to lower-ranking countries.
The relationship between questioning and accountability is not just theoretical. It is also observable. Countries scoring highly in ‘voice and accountability’ also tend to perform better on quality of service, the rule of law, and control of corruption. In a TED Talk with Bret Stephens and Yordanos Eyes, Bret says, “Democracy isn’t just a kind of mechanical system that (kind of) works miraculously by itself, without people investing energy, ideas and a willingness to reform and adapt to make it thrive.” This gives us a simple, powerful idea: democracy does not sustain itself automatically.
However, questioning in a democracy extends beyond political systems. Economic policies shape the distribution of wealth within a society. When citizens are critical in examining these policies, they ensure economic growth is inclusive and not exploited. For example, debates around minimum wage laws and wealth inequality have led to palpable reforms in many countries. Data from the World Inequality Report (2026) reveals that global inequality remains high, with the top 10% of the population owning 75% of global wealth and capturing over half of all income. This disparity persists largely due to insufficient challenge of the system. When citizens engage in debates against the abuse of power, policies tend to focus on societal well-being.
History offers numerous examples of the consequences of silence. Dictatorship and oppressive regimes rarely emerge overnight; they evolve gradually, developing under the nurturing of silent citizens and the disguise of stability. In the majority of cases, early warning signs go unchallenged. By the time citizens recognise the extent of the problem, they are much too used to the system to go against it. Questioning is most effective when it is proactive, not reactive. In a democracy, questioning is most effective when it is proactive because it allows citizens and institutions to hold power accountable before problems escalate.
In a controversial study in 1961, Yale University’s psychologist Stanley Milgram experimented to see how far people would go just because someone of authority told them to. About 60% of the participants registered an extremely high voltage shock to another person and fully believed that they were causing them pain (deception; the shocks were not real). This shows that when authority comes into the picture, and people do not stop to question it, the citizens can also be convinced to commit dangerous acts that are against their own personal ethics. This study suggests that if citizens do not actively question authority, they may comply with harmful policies or actions simply because they are endorsed by those in power.
This returns us to the allegory of The Hunger Games. The silence of the Panem citizens was not a product of fear but of normalisation. Over time, injustice can start seeping into daily life. This process of normalisation is the greatest threat that can allow the system to cross the thin line between democracy and dictatorship.
It is also worth considering that questioning, when practised responsibly, can act as a unifying force rather than a divisive one. While it may initially create friction, it ultimately leads to more informed decisions and better outcomes. Open dialogue allows for the restoration of differing perspectives, bringing a sense of shared ownership over the progress of society. In contrast, enforced silence may create an illusion of unity, but it is a fragile and unsustainable one.
Oscar Moreno, a Filipino politician, says, “In a healthy democracy, asking questions isn’t a threat — it’s a responsibility. Citizens who stay curious, engaged, and vocal are not enemies of public service. They are its foundation.”
Accountability grows when people pay attention. Progress begins when citizens care enough to speak up. Public servants should not fear criticism — they should welcome it as a sign that people still believe change is possible. Because when citizens ask questions, it means they haven’t given up. And that’s where true governance begins.
Democracy isn’t something that, once achieved, runs on its own. It needs participation. It needs attention. Most of all, it needs people who are willing to be uncomfortable—to ask questions even when it’s easier not to. The question from Reaping Day isn’t just a line from a story. It’s something every society must confront at some point. And the answer depends on us. Whether a system becomes fairer or more oppressive isn’t just decided by those in power—it’s shaped by whether people are willing to question it.
If people aren’t willing to question, silence fills the space where accountability should be. And history has shown, again and again, that silence is where the most dangerous systems begin to grow.
This article won the Lumiere Scholars Essay Award