The Seductive and Addictive Nature of Power

In a previous post, The Fundamental Nature of Power, I used our leaf blower as a simple example of the inherently dangerous and potentially violent nature of power. But those are not its only negative aspects. Power has a seductive and addictive nature as well. It lures us into wielding it with the promise that we can be more and more and have more and more. Then, after getting used to our new way of being, we’re loathe to give up the power that allows us to be that way.

For instance, once I learned how to start the big leaf blower and keep it from doing most of the damage it’s capable of, I began to rely on it. Back when I only had a rake for getting the job done, I’d stay on top of the task as the leaves fell. With the big machine on hand, though, I can let the leaves pile up for weeks knowing that I have the power at hand to complete the task in short order. No, it’s not a quiet and meditative communion with nature, in tune with the natural order of things. It’s loud and annoying, harmful to fragile living beings, and it uses fossil fuel and spews pollution into the air. Nonetheless, it allows me to live in a way to which I’ve grown accustomed.

Seduction by Louis Desprez 

Thus, I have a quandary on my hands. On one hand, I enjoy this power that allows me more time for other things I enjoy. On the other hand, because I feel a calling to live more in tune with the natural world, my awareness of the negative aspects of the big machine makes me realize that I’m acting contrary to that calling. Thus, I’m using the big machine less and less these days. I’ve expanded the various leaf accumulation areas around the yard and created new ones, allowing more and more of the leaf disposal to be handled by natural processes. When we realize that negative effects of our reliance on power are in conflict with a higher calling, then we become motivated to change.

 I heard a young man on the radio a few years ago speak of buying a gun for protection while walking the dangerous streets where he lived. “Aaron” had come to resent having to walk out of his way to avoid criminals on the various blocks around his home, so he bought a gun to carry with him on his rounds. His original desire was simply to feel safe, but he described in fascinating detail the gradual transition he underwent due to having this pocketful of power. I’ll try to do the story justice.

Where once he avoided altogether those areas where the criminal element might be hanging out, with the gun he felt empowered to walk those very streets—merely crossing to the other side (at first anyway) to avoid being blatantly confrontational. In time, though, Aaron began to resent even having to go that far out of his way. This was his neighborhood after all. These were public streets. He shouldn’t have to go even a few steps out of his way. With gun in pocket, he started walking right past those criminals, albeit with gaze averted. He wasn’t trying to ignite a conflict. But even that began to gnaw at him. Why should he have to behave submissively at all? He was the upstanding one. And so he took to passing those “ne’er do wells” with an air of defiance, looking them in the eye and all but challenging them to start some trouble with him. That was when he realized that what had started as a desire for safety would very likely end with somebody being killed or maimed.

Yes, power is seductive and addictive. But when we realize that our use of it conflicts with our higher calling, we can change. Aaron had respect for life. He had no desire to kill anyone, even if he could plausibly claim it was in self-defense. He decided to stop carrying his gun.

The United States enjoyed forty-four peaceful transitions of power prior to January 6, 2021. On forty-four occasions before that, the outgoing President put his respect for the will of the people above any desire to remain in power. Sadly, we’ve come to see that something we’ve taken for granted in our mature democracy is not without risk. We’ve come to realize the fragility of even a mature democracy when its institutions cease to be respected—when the President comes to enjoy a little too much his ability to wield power and be protected by the privileges the office provides.

Yes, power is inherently dangerous and potentially violent in nature. It’s seductive and addictive as well. The wise among us allow their higher calling to guide them as they wield it. The less wise fall prey to its pitfalls, either unaware of the harm that they cause or seduced into not caring anymore. So, what are your higher principles and values? How do they keep you from abusing the power you possess? Would you like more examples? Please stay tuned.

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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

Seduction by Louis Desprez photographed by Rama, Creative Commons, via Wikimedia Commons:

https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Seduction-Louis_Desprez-MG_622-IMG_1006.jpg

Power, Practice, and Peace logo courtesy of the author

 

Copyright 2024 by Mark Robert Frank