He records a list of the laws being spoken out by their leader, so no one could speak of unspoken rules. It’s quite a long list, long enough to fill a four-foot wall. He thinks of it as a fence – a defense – that surrounds each person’s property; one that offers basic protection.
Perhaps it will eventually become walls for people to hide behind, like snakes peering out from their nests, waiting for the right time to strike. Walking around corners would never feel safe again, if there are people who are willing to cut through them. Or perhaps these walls would turn people into hermits, afraid of causing harm to others and themselves. (Even though a snail moves very slowly, at least it still moves, and carries the safety of its own home with it wherever it goes. And there is nothing violent about a snail.)
But who is he to set the future in stone? After all, the wall acts more as a last line of defense, one that’s still low enough for people to vault over. There are consequences to such actions, though, and perhaps a sense of safety comes not from the wall itself, but from what lies behind it.