The Human Desire for Power

In the natural world, all living things are content with the power they are born with. The tree grows just large enough and converts just enough sunlight into usable energy that it might produce its seed and fulfill its reproductive calling. The squirrel possesses only what power it needs to gather its winter store and evade its most likely predators. The lion is endowed with just what power she needs to hunt the prey that will satisfy the immediate hunger of her and her cubs. In some species there are battles for exclusive reproductive rights within a herd or group. But whatever contest might be won is simply the outcome of what is. Those vying for such status are not off in the forest running laps and lifting stones in preparation for the big day. They fight, or they don’t. They prevail, or they don’t. 

We humans, however, have lost track of what is enough. Having lost track of what is enough, our usual inclination is to want more and more, to want to be more and more. Simply surviving requires some measure of work from all living beings. But to have more and more, to be more and more, requires more and more work in any given allotment of time. Thus, we need power; or we desire it anyway.

 

Power House Mechanic Working on Steam Pump

Recall that the scientific definition of power is work done per unit of time. If I have the power of the average human, I can only do so much work in any given day. I can only grow so much food, or gather it, or hunt for it. Unfortunately, the human race has a history of some individuals using their power to compel others to do work for them. Enslaved laborers allowed the masters to accumulate more and more wealth, to be more and more—at the expense of the enslaved. 

Ostensibly, our labor is now “fairly” traded via free market mechanisms, and money is the medium of exchange. Thus, money has become a way for us to wield power. Most of us can purchase at least some machines to do our work for us. They carry us to far off destinations, wash our dishes, and blow our leaves. But just as tender plants get blown violently by the extreme power of a leaf blower, so we suffer when power impacts us injudiciously and indiscriminately. 

Which brings me to the very first Buddhist lesson I ever learned as a child riding in my parents’ car. A discussion playing on the radio taught me that suffering is rooted in desire. If we are mindful of what we desire, we can alleviate much of our suffering. Even at such a young age I was struck by the perfect clarity of this teaching. 

We want more and more. We want to be more and more. This desire, in and of itself causes suffering. Moreover, the desire for power—the exertion of which is potentially dangerous and violent—causes suffering in others as well as ourselves. The violence might be quite bloody, such as when land and resources are taken by force. Or it might be more subtle, such as when the voice or will of some powerful individual or individuals silences the voices or will of those with less power. 

So, what do we really need? Are our desires in accord with the natural order of things, or are they rooted in our desire to be more and more? How do we wield power in order to attain what we desire? What harm do we cause other living things in doing so? What harm do we cause to ourselves? I hope this blog within a blog prompts reflection on these questions. Please pop in from time to time to see how this exploration develops.

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This post is in the Power, Practice, and Peace series.

Find a running list of all posts in this series by clicking here.
 

Images

Power House Mechanic Working on Steam Pump courtesy of Lewis Hine, Public domain,

via Wikimedia Commons:

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Lewis_Hine_Power_house_mechanic_working_on_steam_pump.jpg

 Power, Practice, and Peace logo courtesy of the author

 

Copyright 2020, 2024 by Mark Robert Frank