Three New Paths to Modernity
Updating Barrington Moore for the Twenty-First Century
In June 1987 millions of citizens filled the streets of Seoul demanding democratic reform. Students, workers, clergy, and professionals joined mass protests against the military government of President Chun Doo-hwan. The demonstrations grew so large that the regime was forced to concede direct presidential elections and major constitutional reforms.
South Korea would go on to become not only one of the world’s most technologically advanced economies but also a stable democracy.
China followed a different path. Beginning in 1978, sweeping economic reforms turned the country into the manufacturing center of the global economy and lifted hundreds of millions out of poverty.
Yet political power remained firmly in the hands of the Communist Party. When students and workers gathered in Tiananmen Square in 1989 to demand political reform—just two years after Seoul’s protests had helped produce democratic transition—the regime sent in the military. Thirty-five years later, the party’s grip on political life is, if anything, stronger.
Iran represents a third trajectory. The revolution of 1979 created a political system built around religious authority and powerful security institutions. Over time the state evolved into a system in which organizations such as the Revolutionary Guard penetrated large parts of political and economic life, acting both as an instrument of coercion and a major economic force.
Despite a highly educated population and a long tradition of political debate, Iran remains governed by a system in which security institutions and ideological authority override pressures for liberalization.
South Korea democratized. China prospered without democracy. Iran entrenched a security state.
These three societies—each modern, educated, and deeply integrated into the global economy—pose a central puzzle of contemporary political development: why do countries equally capable of modernization follow such different political paths?
This essay argues that the answer lies in the alignment of elites at decisive moments of economic transformation. What matters most is whether the ruling coalition fractures or holds.
The argument can be stated simply: in the contemporary world, no split among elites means no democracy. Economic growth, rising education, and expanding middle classes matter, but they are not enough. Political change becomes possible only when key actors within the ruling coalition come to see the costs of maintaining authoritarian rule as greater than the risks of allowing change.
This argument builds on the framework Barrington Moore Jr. developed in Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy (1966).
The sections that follow identify three contemporary paths to modernity, examine how resource wealth and expanding human capital reshape those paths, analyze the mechanisms that allow authoritarian regimes to endure, and return to South Korea, China, and Iran as test cases.
Moore’s Framework and Its Contemporary Heirs
When Barrington Moore Jr. published Social Origins of Dictatorship and Democracy, he offered a framework that was both historical and structural. Political regimes, he argued, are not expressions of national character or cultural tradition. They emerge from struggles among social classes during the transition from agrarian to industrial society. The alliances formed among landlords, peasants, and rising commercial and industrial groups largely determined the political outcome.
England and the United States moved toward liberal democracy when rising bourgeois classes reached accommodation with landed elites. That compromise gradually built the institutions of representative government while avoiding both peasant revolution and authoritarian reaction.
Germany and Japan took a different path. There, threatened landed elites formed authoritarian nationalist alliances that blocked liberal reform from above and helped produce fascist regimes.
Russia and China followed yet another trajectory. Peasant mobilization destroyed the old ruling classes and created revolutionary states that sought to remake society from below.
Moore’s famous dictum—“no bourgeoisie, no democracy”—captured a broader point. Political outcomes depend not on ideas or cultural predispositions but on who holds power, what alliances are possible, and which coalitions prevail during moments of major economic transformation.
That insight still provides one of the most useful ways to think about political development today.
What has changed are the actors. The social groups that shaped Moore’s analysis have largely disappeared. Landed aristocracies no longer dominate politics. Peasant populations, once the largest class in human history, have shrunk dramatically. The industrial bourgeoisie has been replaced by globally integrated financial and corporate elites whose relationship to state power varies widely from country to country.
Updating Moore’s framework therefore requires identifying the actors who now play the decisive roles.
Three broad paths to modernity are visible in the contemporary world. Each reflects a different alignment among economic elites, state institutions, and coercive power during periods of economic transformation. In modified form, each resembles one of Moore’s original trajectories.
The Democratic Developmental Path
The first path resembles Moore’s bourgeois democracy, though its social foundations have changed. Today democratic transitions more often occur when economic modernization brings business leaders, technocratic officials, and urban professionals into tension with authoritarian rule. Change comes less through violent class conflict than through elite negotiation, mass protest, and gradual institutional reform.
The crucial factor is division within the ruling elite. Democracy becomes possible not simply because civil society demands it but because key economic or political actors conclude that authoritarian rule has become a liability rather than an asset.
When business leaders defect from the authoritarian coalition—or when security elites decide that repression has become too costly—the conditions for liberalization emerge.
The key variable is not economic growth itself but what economic growth does to elite alliances. Unlike the bourgeois revolutions of the nineteenth century, contemporary democratic transitions rarely involve large-scale social upheaval. Conflict still appears, but it is more likely to show up in the repression that precedes reform and in the protests that force elites to recalculate.
The decisive shift is structural: a change in the interests and alignments of those who hold economic and institutional power.
The Authoritarian Developmental Path
A second path combines rapid economic growth with durable authoritarian rule. Classical modernization theory assumed that such systems would eventually collapse under the pressure of social change. Yet countries such as China, Vietnam, and Singapore have shown that economic transformation and political control can coexist for long periods.
In these cases economic reform has taken place through the institutions of the ruling party rather than against them. The result is a fusion of market dynamism and political hierarchy that neither classical Marxism nor liberal modernization theory anticipated.
Economic elites remain closely tied to the state. Their prosperity depends less on autonomous market activity than on political connections, regulatory advantages, and state-managed access to capital. This is a structural design that binds economic actors to the political order and prevents the emergence of the kind of independent bourgeoisie that Moore saw as the social foundation of democratic politics.
Instead of defending old privilege against modernization, these regimes have built a political economy in which modernization itself reinforces authoritarian rule.
The Security-State Path
A third path is defined by the dominance of security institutions so deeply embedded in political and economic life that they effectively are the regime.
Countries such as Iran, Russia, and North Korea often emerged from revolutions or state collapse. Over time their security organizations came to dominate not only coercion but also major sectors of the economy and key political appointments.
In these systems the survival of the regime depends less on ideology or economic success than on the institutional interests of the security apparatus itself.
Leaders who consider liberalization must confront a dangerous reality: their own security institutions may see reform as an existential threat. When that happens, reform becomes extremely difficult.
Security-state elites also have far more to lose than elites in other authoritarian systems. They often control large economic interests and may face prosecution for past abuses if the regime collapses. The risks of defection are therefore existential, not merely political.
That gives security-state regimes a distinctive durability and makes them among the most resistant political systems to fundamental change.
Structural Modifiers
The three paths described above do not operate in isolation. Economic development alone does not determine which trajectory a society follows, and the same country may shift over time.
Two structural forces have become especially important in shaping these outcomes: natural resource wealth and the expansion of human capital. Both alter the relationship between economic modernization and political change in ways earlier theories did not anticipate.
Resource wealth can insulate regimes from political pressure by freeing governments from dependence on taxation. Expanding education, meanwhile, can generate demands for political reform—but it can also strengthen authoritarian systems if those systems successfully channel opportunity and control information.
To understand why some regimes liberalize while others become more entrenched, we need to examine how these forces interact with the three political paths described above.
Resource Wealth and the Rentier State
Moore assumed that industrialization would be the key economic force shaping political outcomes because it created new social classes capable of challenging existing elites.
Resource-dependent economies complicate this picture. Countries heavily dependent on oil or mineral revenues—such as Saudi Arabia and the Gulf states, post-Soviet Russia, and Venezuela under Chavismo—have developed what political scientists call rentier systems. In these systems governments finance themselves largely through resource rents rather than through taxes on productive citizens.
The political consequences are profound. Governments that do not rely on citizens for revenue face far less pressure to grant representation in return.
The social contract is effectively reversed. Instead of citizens funding the state in exchange for representation, the state distributes resource wealth in exchange for political acquiescence.
This arrangement reshapes the entire political economy. It discourages the growth of an independent business class, since wealth flows from state-controlled rents rather than productive activity. It strengthens security institutions, which regimes can afford to fund generously. And it weakens civil society, since independent economic actors who might sustain civic organizations have little reason—or ability—to emerge.
The result is not merely delayed democratization. Resource wealth can prevent the social foundations of democracy from developing in the first place.
Human Capital Without Political Liberalization
Earlier modernization theories assumed that rising education, urbanization, and technical expertise would eventually produce pressure for democratic reform. The experiences of China and Iran show that this expectation was too optimistic.
Both countries have expanded higher education dramatically while maintaining durable authoritarian systems.
Several mechanisms make this possible. Surveillance technologies allow governments to monitor and disrupt opposition with unprecedented precision. Control over economic opportunity channels educated citizens into state-approved careers, making compliance a rational choice even for those who privately favor reform. Selective repression targets organizers and potential leaders while allowing limited expression in less sensitive areas, preventing opposition from gaining momentum.
The lesson is sobering: education and urbanization can create pressure for political change, but they do not guarantee it.
Authoritarian regimes can contain those pressures if they remain internally cohesive, manage economic performance, and deploy effective systems of coercion and information control.
Political change occurs not simply when citizens demand it but when social mobilization coincides with divisions inside the ruling elite that weaken the state’s capacity for repression. An educated middle class may be necessary for democratization, but it is rarely sufficient.
Together, resource wealth and the decoupling of education from political liberalization help explain why the modern world has diverged so sharply from earlier modernization theories. They show why authoritarian regimes can persist even in societies that appear structurally prepared for democratic change.
But these conditions alone do not explain how authoritarian regimes sustain themselves over time. For that, we need to examine the mechanisms of authoritarian durability.
The Political Economy of Complicity: Why Authoritarian Regimes Endure
If modernization does not automatically produce democracy—and if resource wealth and informational control can reinforce authoritarian rule even in highly educated societies—the next question is clear: how do authoritarian regimes prevent the coordination needed for political change?
Observers often assume that repression alone explains authoritarian survival. Coercion certainly matters. But repression by itself does not explain why many regimes endure even when economic performance falters or legitimacy erodes.
The answer lies in a broader set of mechanisms—social, economic, informational, and institutional—that make effective opposition extremely difficult.
Authoritarian regimes rarely survive by generating enthusiastic support. They survive by preventing the coordination that political challenge requires.
The Collective Action Problem
The most basic obstacle to political change in authoritarian systems is a coordination problem.
When dissent carries severe risks, each individual must calculate whether others will act as well. If others act, any single person’s participation may matter little. If others do not act, participation can be dangerous or even fatal.
The rational response is therefore inaction—even when many citizens privately favor change.
Authoritarian regimes exploit this dynamic deliberately. They weaken or eliminate organizations—unions, professional associations, civic groups, independent media—that might allow citizens to coordinate.
The result is widespread preference falsification. Citizens publicly express loyalty while privately harboring opposition. Dissatisfaction exists, but it remains politically invisible.
When such regimes collapse, the change often appears sudden. Once people receive credible signals that others are willing to act—as in Eastern Europe in 1989 or Tunisia in 2010—hidden opposition can surface quickly and dramatically.
The Institutional Interests of Security Establishments
Security institutions are not simply tools of authoritarian rulers. They are organizations with their own interests, cultures, and incentives.
Their members have built careers within institutions whose power depends on the continuation of the regime. They command the means of coercion, control sensitive information, and often develop strong internal solidarity.
For reform-minded leaders, this creates a serious constraint. Political liberalization threatens organizations whose leaders fear prosecution, loss of status, or institutional dismantling.
The experience of leaders who underestimated this risk—most famously Mikhail Gorbachev—has not been lost on their successors.
Security institutions must therefore be understood not simply as instruments of authoritarian rule but as powerful actors whose survival interests help sustain the system itself.
Information Control and the Management of Legitimacy
Modern authoritarian regimes control the information environment through mechanisms that go well beyond traditional censorship. By shaping media narratives, educational curricula, and digital communication, they influence not only what citizens know but how they interpret political reality and assess political risk.
The goal is rarely to generate enthusiastic support. It is to create enough uncertainty, cynicism, and fear of instability to prevent collective action. Opposition movements are portrayed as incompetent, corrupt, or foreign-manipulated. Political change is framed as a path to chaos or national humiliation.
The Arab Spring showed both the possibilities and the limits of this strategy. Social media temporarily helped opposition movements overcome information barriers, but in many cases security establishments later reasserted control once the initial wave of mobilization passed.
The Problem of Credible Commitment
Even when ruling elites and opposition leaders recognize the potential advantages of reform, another obstacle often blocks transition: the problem of credible commitment.
Authoritarian elites face a stark question: if they relinquish power, how can they be certain a democratic government will not prosecute them, seize their assets, or exclude them from political life?
Opposition movements face the mirror-image problem: how can democratic forces trust that authoritarian leaders will not manipulate the transition or eventually restore authoritarian control?
Because neither side can fully trust the other, both may prefer the continuation of authoritarian rule to a transition whose guarantees cannot be enforced.
Successful transitions therefore require mechanisms—formal or informal—that give both sides some assurance about life after reform. Spain’s negotiated transition is a well-known example. Informal bargains between reformist regime figures and democratic opposition leaders created enough mutual confidence for liberalization to move forward.
Such arrangements are rare. Their rarity is itself a central reason authoritarian regimes endure.
From Mechanisms to Cases
These mechanisms help explain why authoritarian regimes can persist even when many citizens want change and social conditions appear to favor reform. Economic development, rising education, and public protest can all create pressure for liberalization, but they rarely bring it about on their own. Political change becomes possible only when those pressures intersect with divisions inside the ruling elite.
The experiences of South Korea, China, and Iran show how different alignments within ruling coalitions produce very different political outcomes.
Three Cases Revisited: South Korea, China, and Iran
The framework developed in the preceding sections—three paths to modernity shaped by resource wealth, human capital, and authoritarian durability—can now be applied to the three cases with which this essay began.
South Korea, China, and Iran are not just examples of different political outcomes. They are tests of the argument. Each shows how the structural forces described above shape political trajectories—and whether the updated Moorean framework helps explain why some societies democratize while others do not.
South Korea: Elite Fracture and Democratic Transition
South Korea’s democratic transition in the late 1980s illustrates the democratic developmental path with unusual clarity. By the mid-1980s rapid industrialization and export-led growth had produced an educated middle class, globally oriented business elites, and technocratic institutions whose interests increasingly clashed with continued military rule.
The large conglomerates known as chaebol, which had grown under state guidance, were now deeply integrated into global markets. Association with an isolated military regime threatened both their reputation and their economic prospects.
This shift did not reflect a sudden embrace of democratic ideals. It reflected a practical calculation: democratic stability now seemed better for business than authoritarian control.
When mass protests erupted in 1987, that calculation became unavoidable. Millions took to the streets, making repression both costly and internationally damaging. Divisions soon appeared inside the military and political leadership over whether authoritarian rule could be sustained.
The ruling coalition fractured. Democracy became possible not simply because citizens demanded it, but because key actors within the regime concluded that repression carried greater risks than reform.
South Korea confirms the updated Moorean logic: democratization occurs when popular mobilization intersects with divisions inside the ruling elite.
China: Modernization Without Political Autonomy
China represents the authoritarian developmental path in its most developed form. Market reforms unfolded through party institutions rather than against them. The ruling party carefully structured economic reform so that the beneficiaries of growth remained dependent on political authority.
Property rights, access to capital, and regulatory protection all depend heavily on political relationships. Business leaders who overestimate their independence quickly discover the limits of their autonomy—a lesson reinforced repeatedly under Xi Jinping.
At the same time, the party has built an extensive system of information control and surveillance. These tools allow the state to monitor dissent, disrupt opposition networks, and shape the broader information environment.
The result is a society that has experienced extraordinary urbanization, rising education, and expanding middle classes without producing the autonomous organizations that often drive democratic change.
The Tiananmen protests of 1989 showed that Chinese citizens were capable of mass mobilization. The decades since have shown that the party is capable of preventing its return through a combination of economic co-optation, targeted repression, and sophisticated information management.
China demonstrates that rapid modernization does not necessarily weaken authoritarian rule. Under the right institutional conditions, it can reinforce it.
Iran: The Security State and the Limits of Reform
Iran illustrates the security-state path clearly. The country combines high levels of education and human capital with a political system that has proven remarkably durable.
Since the 1979 revolution, the Islamic Republic has survived war, sanctions, and repeated waves of protest—including the Green Movement of 2009 and later nationwide demonstrations.
Understanding this durability requires focusing on institutional structure rather than culture or religion.
The central institution is the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps. It functions simultaneously as a military force, intelligence network, economic conglomerate, and political power center.
The Guard’s economic interests span construction, energy, telecommunications, and finance. Its personnel occupy key positions throughout the state. Its institutional survival is deeply tied to the survival of the political system itself.
Iran also illustrates the problem of credible commitment that often blocks democratic transitions. Over decades the security apparatus has imprisoned, tortured, and executed political opponents. Its leadership therefore faces enormous legal and personal risks if the system collapses.
Unlike the South Korean military, which could negotiate a transition while preserving its institutional standing, Iran’s security establishment has far more to lose. That reality makes reform extremely difficult.
Paradoxically, the scale of past repression becomes a source of regime stability.
The Updated Dictum
Barrington Moore’s central insight—that political outcomes reflect the balance of social power at decisive moments—remains highly relevant.
What has changed are the actors and institutions involved.
The landlords, peasants, and early industrial capitalists of Moore’s analysis have largely disappeared. In their place stand security institutions committed to regime preservation, globally connected economic elites whose fortunes depend on state policy, technocratic bureaucracies capable of managing economic modernization, and educated urban populations whose aspirations are shaped—and often constrained—by sophisticated systems of economic and informational control.
These actors produce three broad paths to modernity.
Democratic developmental states liberalize when economic transformation fractures the ruling coalition and key elites decide that reform is safer than repression.
Authoritarian developmental states achieve modernization while keeping political control by ensuring that economic success remains dependent on the state.
Security-state regimes achieve durability by embedding coercive institutions so deeply in political and economic life that their survival becomes inseparable from the survival of the regime.
The mechanisms that sustain these systems—the collective action problem, the interests of security institutions, the political economy of complicity, information control, and the problem of credible commitment—do not necessarily produce enthusiasm for authoritarian rule. They prevent the coordination required for effective political challenge.
These dynamics explain why authoritarian regimes can persist for decades even in societies where economic development and education might seem to favor democracy.
South Korea democratized because mass protest coincided with a split inside the ruling elite. China has maintained authoritarian rule because the party has built a system that ties economic success closely to political loyalty. Iran remains a security state because its security institutions have accumulated power—and liabilities—that make meaningful reform existentially threatening.
Moore famously wrote that “no bourgeoisie means no democracy.” The contemporary world suggests a related lesson: no division among elites means no democracy.
Modernization still produces conflict over power and authority. But in a world of powerful security states, globalized economic networks, and advanced surveillance technologies, the path from modernization to democracy is far less automatic than earlier theories assumed.
In the end, the persistence of regimes such as Iran or Cuba should not surprise us as much as it often does. Authoritarian systems rarely collapse simply because their economies falter, their citizens protest, or outside powers apply pressure. They endure so long as the ruling coalition remains intact and the institutions of coercion see their fate tied to the survival of the regime itself.
History suggests that authoritarian systems usually change only when those coalitions begin to fracture—when insiders conclude that the existing order can no longer protect their interests or their safety. Until that moment arrives, even societies with educated populations, global economic ties, and visible dissatisfaction can remain politically frozen for decades.
The lesson is sobering but clear: regime change rarely begins in the streets. It begins inside the regime.

Interesting essay… missing a very key point… the role of culture. Specifically, the role of a culture around self government and individualism. It is not an accident that countries where these cultural values are introduced, one tends to get a shared governance model… It is also the reason that introducing the institutions of democracy does not generally work.
Provocative! Thank you. I’d love to see a review of this argument from Francis Fukuyama.