Reflections on the Nature of Power

I tend to write the posts while I am at Church. Partly because it keeps me awake and alert, subsequently sparing my family the embarrassment and God the dishonour of my falling asleep at my post. But mostly because, at its core, church is a time for introspection and reflection in a community of like-minded people who can hold you accountable. Now, while I may not share their beliefs, I do benefit from the introspective and reflective culture that has been cultivated.

So, today I write this in Church and I find myself writing to prevent the former, rather than engage with the latter. I have nothing to say about my week. Was I anxious? Yup, but how is that new? It continues to manifest in the same ways and impact my life in the same ways.

What lessons did I learn? Perhaps those who proclaim their power the loudest, often have the least amount of power. To quote Tywin Lannister, "Any man who says 'I am King' is no true king at all."

True power, desires to perpetuate itself. And one of the best ways to guarantee this "immortality" is for it to be exercised in secret; to keep its source hidden in secrecy. To be held unaccountable to no one but its own interests. To be used in every way imaginable and in ways presently unfathomable. Hence those with real power, are quiet about the influence they wield. A key example comes to mind: Google and Facebook.

They engage in a disinformation and misdirection campaign when it comes to the influence they wield in the digital domain and how far-reaching this influence is in the physical. The amount of data they extract, mine and repackage provides them with unprecedented power, but they frame it as the power they willingly hand us. The power to live simply, conveniently and more efficiently. The power to live life, on our terms: what we want, when we want it and how we want it.

All this, for our digital breadcrumbs. For the bits of data, we don't even think about. Much like Shrek, in Shrek Forever After, presented with the option to live the way we want, in exchange for an insignificant day of our lives, we seize the opportunity; not realising its true cost. Not realising that every day is significant, all our data is significant, and we sign on the dotted line. In part because of an alluring promise, but in part, because they hid the true extent of the power they could wield.

And as we realise that we have been duped and try to claw some power back from data protection laws and Right to Forget ordinances to trust-busting and civic education, they seem to acquiesce. They change their notification practices, and the EULAs we sign. They make new promises committing themselves to privacy, even though doing so presents an existential challenge to their business. They make cosmetic changes and continue to remain quiet about how much influence they have in the halls of government, and in their digital domain. They respond to societal outrage not because they are beholden to us, but because that act of self-policing keeps their domain free of legislation and regulation who's creation demands an inquiry into the true extent of their influence.

An influence that truly breath-taking in its depth, knee-buckling in its breadth and altogether disturbing. If I wasn't anxious already, this would have broken me. Because despite my recognition of the unassailable fact of their influence, I still choose to engage with it. To support it by my use of their products; YouTube, Android, LinkedIn, Snapchat and so on.

This a lesson that can be applied across every field, every age set, every discipline and throughout all stages of life. Another example is social media influencers. Their brands depend on them being accessible and relatable. On making recommendations based on this authenticity, not on the fees they get paid. This is why so few of them release the amount they get paid from various brands or reframe these partnerships as borne from a genuine interest in, or love for, the products and services. They recognise that though their influence and power come from their following, and so work to reframe their followers as part of a family or a community, through building parasocial relationships, not just the source of their power. Now, this is an example that is, at present, nowhere near as far-reaching as the first example, but it is far more accessible.

But there is a far more personal example that I have yet to site. An example that betrays me in a negative light. Yesterday, I made a microaggressive comment; joking that BIPOC (black, indigenous, people of colour) individuals had only progressed due to their non-academic activities rather than their academic performance. The reason why this joke was so problematic was that it wasn't told for the BIPOC audience; it was told for a white audience. It fed into implicit biases they may have had, that BIPOC are not as intelligent and that progression on the basis of that intelligence is not possible. It allowed them not to think about the biases they may hold, but continue to hold them because "it's funny 'cause it's true." It was not subversive, it was just disparaging.

Thankfully, I had a friend who called me out and got me to recognise the underlying statement I was declaring. A statement many would have missed because it was masked in a joke. Humour has the power to mask a myriad of prejudiced and hostile practices and beliefs because it communicates two messages; (1) the prejudiced message and; (2) that the prejudice doesn't count because it was delivered as a joke. Humour provides people with the ability to communicate and express their hidden biases in a socially acceptable context. It is the means through which people may hide the views they believe empower them and not be held accountable for the consequences. It is a means through which power can be hidden, and simultaneously, exposed when done right. But in this instance, my instance, it was a way to hide my own implicit biases and not consider the power, however negative and pervasive, they granted me; the ability to rest on the belief that other BIPOC did not progress on their own merit, but I did. A belief I know to be false, but still maintained subconsciously.

To be honest, I'm not entirely sure if the last example was coherent. When it comes to discussing humour, and its relationship to power, the waters can get muddied. Because power understands that humour, and its variants like satire and parody, are capable of exposing and dismantling its structures, whilst also providing them with cover from being held accountable for those excesses. It's why Donald Trump went on a media tour in 2016, allowing people to ruffle his hair because it fed into the "he's an inconsequential idiot" vibe that allowed us to not take him seriously. It allowed him to exercise the power at his disposal in relative secrecy, whilst being blatantly explicit about his intentions. It's why making fun of Zuckerberg for his mannerisms both allows us to criticise him, but also risks excusing his behaviour as just another weird quirk that prevents him from being held fully accountable for his actions. The dual coverage that humour can provide is necessary for the maintenance of power structures and in its evolving attempts at obfuscation and misdirection.

In summation, power desires to be hidden to ensure that it can completely manage its mischief. This is what I learned this week, and what I will continue to recognise and learn for the rest of my life. Anxiety be damned!