10 Extreme Laws That Tried to Engineer Society

Governments often view the law not just as a set of rules, but as a tool for radical social engineering. History is filled with instances where leaders attempted to erase ancient traditions or force new habits upon their citizens overnight. These mandates frequently target the most intimate parts of life, from the way people dress to the words they are allowed to speak. While some of these legal experiments were intended to modernize a nation, others were designed to tighten political control. The result is often a bizarre clash between deep-seated cultural identity and the cold authority of the state.

This list examines ten times that governments used the gavel to try and rewrite the soul of their people.

Related: 10 Countries Where Religion and Politics Are Inseparable

10 The Soviet War on Tipping

Following the 1917 Revolution, the Bolshevik government sought to dismantle what it viewed as “bourgeois” habits that humiliated the working class. Tipping was identified as a particularly offensive relic of the Tsarist era, seen as a way for the wealthy to exercise power over those serving them. To the Soviet leadership, a worker in a socialist utopia should be paid a fair wage by the state and should not have to rely on the whims of a customer’s pocket change.

Rather than simply frown upon the practice, Soviet authorities formally discouraged tipping and, in many contexts, banned it outright. Restaurants posted signs declaring that workers were “equal citizens” who did not accept handouts, and employees were encouraged to reject gratuities in the name of proletarian dignity. The campaign framed tipping as degrading and incompatible with Marxist ideals of class equality.

In practice, however, the culture proved remarkably resilient. Chronic shortages and low wages in the planned economy encouraged informal payments, and gratuities often survived as a pragmatic way to secure better service or scarce goods. Despite ideological opposition, the reality of human incentive structures meant that tipping never fully disappeared, even under a system determined to engineer it away.^[1]

9 Iceland’s Personal Naming Committee

For decades, Iceland maintained one of the strictest naming regimes in the world through the “Mannanafnanefnd,” or Icelandic Naming Committee. Established in 1991, the committee acted as the legal gatekeeper for new personal names, reviewing applications to ensure they complied with Icelandic grammar and cultural tradition. The law was designed to preserve the Icelandic language and its patronymic naming system, in which a child’s last name is derived from a parent’s first name rather than a fixed family surname.

To be approved, a name had to use only letters from the Icelandic alphabet, which historically excluded letters such as C, Q, and W, and it had to be capable of fitting Icelandic grammatical endings. If parents wished to use a name not already listed in the official register—containing thousands of approved options—they were required to submit a formal application for review. Names judged incompatible with linguistic rules or potentially embarrassing could be rejected.

The system generated controversy in an increasingly globalized society, particularly when families sought to honor foreign heritage or choose unconventional names. Although the naming law was reformed in 2019 and the committee abolished, the decades-long experiment remains a striking example of a government using legal authority to shape something as personal as identity itself in the name of cultural preservation.^[2]

8 The Turkish Hat Law of 1925

In the early 20th century, Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, founder of modern Turkey, sought to pull his nation away from its Ottoman past and toward a secular, Western-oriented future. Among his sweeping reforms was the Hat Law of November 25, 1925. At the time, the fez was a common symbol of Ottoman identity. Atatürk regarded it as emblematic of an outdated order and moved to replace it with Western-style brimmed hats.

The law made it illegal for certain officials and public servants to wear traditional headgear and strongly encouraged the broader population to adopt European styles. Enforcement was serious and, in some regions, severe. Special Independence Tribunals prosecuted those who resisted, and while most compliance was achieved through pressure and example, some opponents were tried and, in certain cases, executed under broader charges of opposing the revolution.

The Hat Law was more than a fashion decree; it was a visual revolution. Atatürk believed that transforming outward appearance would accelerate inward modernization, signaling a decisive break from imperial and religious tradition. It remains one of the clearest examples of a state using clothing as a mandatory tool of ideological and cultural realignment.^[3]

7 Singapore’s Chewing Gum Ban

In 1992, under Prime Minister Goh Chok Tong, the Singaporean government implemented a sweeping ban on the import and sale of chewing gum. The move was part of a broader effort to cultivate a disciplined and orderly society. Officials cited the high cost of cleaning gum from public spaces and, notably, incidents in which gum had been used to obstruct sensors on the city’s Mass Rapid Transit (MRT) system.

The prohibition eliminated a common source of litter and vandalism through straightforward legal force. Supporters argued that the minor pleasure of chewing gum was outweighed by the collective costs imposed on public infrastructure and cleanliness. The ban became emblematic of Singapore’s reputation as a meticulously regulated “fine city,” where strict laws underpin efficiency and order.

In 2004, following a trade agreement with the United States, the law was relaxed to allow the sale of therapeutic gum—such as nicotine gum—through pharmacies. Nevertheless, ordinary chewing gum remains tightly controlled. The policy stands as a notable example of a government restricting a trivial consumer product to shape everyday civic behavior.^[4]

6 Quebec’s Charter of the French Language

Quebec’s Bill 101, officially known as the Charter of the French Language, was enacted in 1977 to ensure that French would remain the dominant language of the province. The legislation emerged from concerns that English economic influence threatened the cultural and linguistic identity of Quebec’s French-speaking majority. Rather than relying on gradual cultural evolution, the provincial government used law as a proactive shield for linguistic survival.

Bill 101 established French as the language of government, the courts, and much of the workplace. It required commercial signage to display French as the markedly predominant language and mandated that most children of immigrants attend French-language schools, with specific exceptions for families educated in English elsewhere in Canada. Businesses that failed to comply faced oversight and potential fines from the Office québécois de la langue française.

The charter significantly reshaped public life in Quebec, making French fluency central to economic and social participation. Supporters view it as an essential defense against cultural erosion, while critics argue that it restricts individual expression and minority language rights. Either way, it represents a sweeping attempt to engineer cultural continuity through legal mandate rather than demographic chance.^[5]

5 Peter the Great’s Beard Tax

When Peter the Great returned to Russia from his travels in Western Europe in the late 17th century, he was convinced that his country lagged behind the “modern” nations he admired. One of the most visible symbols of traditional Russian culture was the long beard worn by nobles, merchants, clergy, and peasants alike. In 1698, Peter famously ordered members of his court to shave, personally cutting off beards in a dramatic gesture meant to signal a new era.

In 1705, he formalized this aesthetic revolution into law by imposing a beard tax. Men who wished to retain their facial hair were required to pay an annual fee that varied by social class. Nobles and wealthy merchants paid substantial sums, while peasants were charged when entering towns. Those who paid received a small copper or silver token, which they had to carry as proof of their legal right to wear a beard.

For many Russians, especially within the Orthodox Church, beards carried religious significance and were associated with piety and tradition. By taxing facial hair, Peter was not merely raising revenue; he was deliberately reshaping the outward appearance of his subjects to resemble Western Europe. The beard tax remains one of the clearest examples of a ruler using financial penalties to push aesthetic and cultural modernization from the top down.^[6]

4 Bhutan’s Mandatory National Dress

In 1989, the government of Bhutan formalized a national dress code known as “Driglam Namzha,” requiring citizens to wear traditional Bhutanese attire in government offices, schools, and many public settings. For men, this meant the gho, a knee-length robe tied with a belt; for women, the kira, a long, wrapped dress paired with a jacket. The policy was intended to preserve Bhutan’s distinct cultural identity in the face of rapid modernization and outside influence.

Officials framed the mandate as a unifying measure, reinforcing Bhutan’s Buddhist heritage and distinguishing it visually from neighboring India and China. Western clothing such as jeans and T-shirts was seen as a symbol of cultural dilution. By legally requiring traditional dress in official spaces, the state ensured that public life projected a consistent national image rooted in historical custom.

However, enforcement of Driglam Namzha has also been controversial. In the late 20th century, the policy intersected with broader tensions involving ethnic minorities, including the Lhotshampa community, whose cultural practices differed from the dominant Drukpa majority. While many Bhutanese citizens view the dress code as a source of pride, it stands as a powerful example of how governments can codify “tradition” into law to shape both identity and social belonging.^[7]

3 Romania’s Decree 770

In 1966, Romanian leader Nicolae Ceaușescu issued Decree 770 in an effort to rapidly increase the nation’s population and fuel industrial growth. The law severely restricted abortion and access to contraception for most women under the age of 45 who had fewer than four children. The policy was built on the belief that demographic expansion would translate directly into economic and geopolitical strength.

Enforcement mechanisms were intrusive and far-reaching. In some state workplaces, women were subjected to regular gynecological examinations to detect unauthorized pregnancies. A “childlessness tax” penalized adults without children, while mothers of large families were publicly honored and celebrated. The state inserted itself directly into private reproductive decisions in pursuit of demographic targets.

Although the birth rate initially rose, the long-term consequences were devastating. Many families struggled to support additional children, leading to widespread abandonment and the overcrowding of state orphanages. Estimates suggest that tens of thousands of children grew up in institutions marked by neglect and deprivation. Decree 770 illustrates how an attempt to engineer population growth through coercive law can produce profound social trauma that lasts for generations.^[8]

2 The French Republican Calendar

During the French Revolution, leaders sought not only to dismantle the monarchy but also to transform the rhythms of daily life. In 1793, they introduced the French Republican Calendar, replacing the traditional seven-day week with a ten-day cycle known as the decade . By eliminating Sunday, the revolutionary government aimed to weaken the influence of the Catholic Church and align society with secular, republican ideals.

The calendar reorganized months around seasonal phenomena, renaming them with titles such as “Brumaire” and “Thermidor.” An additional experiment in decimal time divided the day into ten hours of 100 minutes each, though this system proved short-lived. Official business was required to follow the new calendar, and public life was expected to adjust accordingly.

The reform was deeply unpopular, particularly among workers who now labored nine days before receiving one day of rest. Many people continued informally observing the traditional week despite official mandates. Ultimately, Napoleon Bonaparte abolished the Republican Calendar in 1806. The episode demonstrates how even revolutionary governments struggle to legislate away deeply embedded cultural and religious rhythms.^[9]

1 China’s One-Child Policy

Introduced around 1979 and implemented nationally in the early 1980s, China’s One-Child Policy was an unprecedented attempt to control population growth through law. Concerned about overpopulation and resource strain, the Chinese government limited most urban couples to a single child, though rural families and ethnic minorities were sometimes permitted additional children under specific conditions.

Enforcement varied by region but could include substantial fines, workplace penalties, and, in some cases, forced sterilizations or abortions. A vast administrative apparatus monitored births and family planning compliance. The policy reshaped family structures within a single generation, contributing to what became known as the “4-2-1” family model: one child supporting two parents and four grandparents.

The policy also produced a significant gender imbalance, as cultural preferences for sons led to sex-selective practices and abandonment. Although the One-Child Policy was formally ended in 2015 and later replaced with a two-child and then three-child policy, China continues to grapple with a rapidly aging population and declining birth rates. The law stands as one of the most sweeping examples of a state attempting to engineer demographic behavior on a national scale, with consequences that extended far beyond its original goals.^[10]

fact checked by
Darci Heikkinen