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Law and order is a popular topic in the world of entertainment right now. Four television series carry that title, supplying options for viewers who favor run-of-the-mill homicide, unusual crimes, sex crimes, the detecting side, or the prosecuting side. So it may be a good time to take a look as well at law and order in baseball, especially the version that transpires on the baseball field itself. And that means the umpires.

Unlike our larger U.S. society, baseball is not a democracy. Players do not vote on whether a pitch is a ball or strike, whether the runner is safe or out. One man makes that decision, and if he chooses to consult, he consults only with his umpiring peers, not with players, and certainly not with managers. A manager who steps out of the dugout to argue balls and strikes is automatically ejected from the game, or at least that is the rule. Freedom of speech? Only within the dugout, and even there it is sharply curtailed. Take too many potshots at the umpire, and you’re banished.

Advocates of democracy may think this is bad, but it is good, in fact, necessary. The options during a game are not dictatorship or democracy; they are dictatorship or chaos. Players know that and are remarkably acquiescent. Despite the occasional on-field rumble, players routinely take with barely a whimper the calls that go against them. They know that the only thing standing between an orderly contest and slugging it out with players from the other side, and consequently destroying the baseball goose that keeps on laying the golden eggs for them, is the umpire.

Thomas Hobbes, the seventeenth-century philosopher, might have had the future sport in mind when he wrote in “Leviathan” that the natural state of man (he probably also had women in mind) is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.” Hobbes added, “During the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man.” The umpire is that “common power” in baseball.

Lest we become overly critical of so much power in the hands of the umpiring crew, we should recall what umpiring used to be like before baseball folks decided that they did not want their games to be “solitary [in modern parlance, lacking a big fan base], poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”

For example, there was an unfortunate umpire named Tim Hurst, back in 1897, who caught a beer stein in his face, thrown by an unruly fan. Washington fans once sicced vicious dogs on an umpire. Today, fans may question the umpire’s vision, or even suggest an early demise, but they know better than to carry the matter too far. The umpire, after all, can declare the game forfeited to the visiting team if fans unduly misbehave. Also, players in the early days of professional baseball were not averse to attacking umpires using fists, bats, or anything else that was available. Some umpires resorted to carrying revolvers for protection.

Throughout the nineteenth century, one umpire usually handled the entire game. Not until 1909 did having two umpires become the norm. The number increased to three in 1933 and four during the 1950s. To stay with a philosophical perspective, that increase is an example of what philosophers call “the idea of progress,” in this context part of the civilizing of a sport. Or maybe it is just money. Having a smoothly flowing game with minimal violence creates a nicer atmosphere for children and the entire family. More fans in attendance equate to more money for owners and higher salaries for players. Accepting the increased number and power of umpires must have seemed to many a small investment that would (and did) yield high dividends.

So the next time you watch a game, in person or on television, note the players’ general docility regarding umpires’ decisions. Oh, sure, sometimes a batter may give the umpire a dirty look after a called strike. Sometimes a manager may even run onto the field, gesticulate wildly, and kick some dirt over home plate or first base (rather a mild action, given what those “Law and Order” detectives and prosecutors have to deal with on one channel or another almost every hour of the day), yet even that modest behavior is sure to get the manager kicked out. But overall, the umpire’s word is law. Would we have it any other way?

Edward J. Rielly is a Westbrook resident, English professor at St. Joseph’s College, and widely published author with two books on baseball and American culture.