Rejecting the Logic of Power and Unjust Authority
Having established that means shape ends, we now explore an important implication. Radicals must question the logic of power that dominates conventional politics. This goes beyond opposing specific oppressive institutions – it means examining the entire framework of hierarchical domination that characterizes state power, capitalism, patriarchy, and white supremacy.
Radicals challenge the traditional logic of power built on domination and control. Power, in conventional terms, refers to the imposition of one’s will through coercion, often enforced by the state, capitalism, patriarchy, and white supremacy. These systems centralize power, maintaining control through violence or manipulation. Radical thought, however, diverges from this model. Rather than seeking to seize control of these systems, radicals aim to transform them fundamentally, redistributing power throughout the community.
The slogan “All Power to the People” embodies this vision. Originating in revolutionary movements like the Black Panther Party, it calls not for a simple transfer of control from elites to the masses but for the dissolution of centralized power itself. This phrase is about collective empowerment: replacing domination with decentralized systems of shared responsibility and democratic decision-making.
But what does this mean practically? “All Power to the People” manifests in concrete practices: consensus decision-making where those affected by decisions make them collectively; rotating facilitation roles so no one becomes an entrenched leader; skill-sharing to prevent expertise from becoming a power base; creating structures where authority flows from the bottom up through mandated, recallable delegates rather than top-down through permanent officials; and building institutions (from neighborhood councils to worker cooperatives) where people directly govern their own lives rather than being governed by others.
The Anarchist Critique of Hierarchy: A Historical Foundation
The radical rejection of hierarchical power has deep roots in anarchist political theory. Throughout the 19th and early 20th centuries, anarchist thinkers observed a recurring pattern: revolutionary movements that centralized power in the name of liberation ended up reproducing the very domination they claimed to oppose.
Mikhail Bakunin, witnessing the authoritarian tendencies emerging in socialist movements of the 1870s, warned that “revolutionary government” was a contradiction in terms. He argued that those who seize state power, even with the best intentions, inevitably become corrupted by it: “If you took the most ardent revolutionary, vested him in absolute power, within a year he would be worse than the Tsar himself.” Bakunin’s critique wasn’t about the moral failings of individual leaders but about the nature of centralized power itself. It concentrates, defends itself, and ultimately serves those who wield it rather than those it claims to serve.
Peter Kropotkin developed this critique further through his theory of mutual aid, demonstrating that cooperation and voluntary association (not hierarchy and command) were the fundamental drivers of human progress. He argued that hierarchical organization wasn’t natural or inevitable but a relatively recent historical development that ran counter to humanity’s deeper cooperative instincts. For Kropotkin, building a free society required building it through free associations, not through capturing state power to impose liberation from above.
Errico Malatesta refined the anarchist position by emphasizing that organization itself wasn’t the problem; coercive authority was. He distinguished between free association based on voluntary cooperation and hierarchical organization based on command and obedience. Malatesta argued that anarchists should create organizations where “authority” comes from competence and consent, not from position or force.
From these thinkers emerged a central anarchist insight: all hierarchy, even when justified as temporary, necessary, or “for the people,” tends toward domination and self-perpetuation. Power doesn’t simply change hands; it transforms those who hold it. Centralized structures, once created, develop their own logic, create their own bureaucracies, and generate their own justifications for continued existence. What begins as “revolutionary government” becomes simply government. What starts as “temporary” emergency measures becomes permanent institutional features.
This connects directly to the means-ends principle we established in Section 1: hierarchical organization produces hierarchical society. If we use authoritarian means (centralized leadership, top-down command, concentrated decision-making power), we develop authoritarian capacities, create authoritarian organizational cultures, and build authoritarian precedents. The means literally shape the ends.
Anarchists weren’t predicting a new problem. They were identifying and theorizing a pattern that had appeared throughout history. Whether revolutionary movements were aware of anarchist critique or not, this pattern emerged repeatedly: centralized power concentrates, justifies itself as necessary or temporary, and ultimately creates new forms of domination. The French Revolution’s descent into the Reign of Terror, the various Latin American revolutions that replaced old elites with new ones, the transformation of the Russian Revolution into Stalinist totalitarianism—all followed this pattern.
Anarchists observed these historical experiences and developed a theoretical explanation for why this happens. The pattern isn’t caused by movements being insufficiently revolutionary or by leaders being corrupt (though that can happen). The pattern exists because, by its very structure, a centralized hierarchical organization concentrates power, creates distance between decision-makers and those affected by decisions, and ultimately serves those at the top of the hierarchy rather than those at the bottom, regardless of the ideology or good intentions of the leaders.
Understanding this pattern (now articulated and theorized through anarchist thought) gives contemporary movements a foundation. They don’t have to rediscover through bitter experience what previous movements learned through failure. They can build differently from the start, creating horizontal structures, rotating responsibilities, ensuring those affected by decisions make them, and refusing the logic of “temporary” centralization. Whether movements explicitly identify as anarchist or arrive at similar conclusions through their own analysis and practice, they benefit from this accumulated historical wisdom about how hierarchy perpetuates itself and how collective liberation requires collective organization.
The examples that follow (both cautionary tales of centralization and inspiring models of horizontal organizing) illustrate this fundamental insight: if we want to dismantle hierarchy, we cannot use hierarchical means. We must build the egalitarian world we seek through egalitarian organization in the present.
Power as Domination vs. Power as Empowerment
Radicals distinguish between “power over” others (which is inherently exploitative) and “power with” others, which is rooted in collective empowerment. “Power over” refers to the control of one group over another, often through coercive means like state violence or economic domination. Throughout history, even movements rooted in ideals of equality and justice have faced the risk of replicating oppressive structures when power is centralized.
History provides sobering examples of how even liberation movements have replicated systems of domination when they prioritized seizing centralized power over building horizontal alternatives. These examples illustrate why radicals reject not just who holds power, but the very concept of centralized power itself.
For example, during the French Revolution (1789), the people overthrew the monarchy with a vision of liberty, equality, and fraternity. Initially, revolutionary leaders sought to dismantle the power of the aristocracy and the monarchy. However, as the revolution progressed, leaders like Robespierre used the revolution’s ideals to justify extreme measures of control. The Reign of Terror (1793-1794), while partly a response to external military threats and internal counter-revolution, showed how concentrating power to “defend the revolution” created new forms of tyranny. Robespierre wielded emergency powers to execute political opponents, establishing a Committee of Public Safety that functioned as a dictatorial body. A new hierarchy ultimately overshadowed the revolution’s initial goals, contradicting its egalitarian aims. The means (centralized revolutionary power) shaped the ends: replacing one form of domination with another.
Similarly, the Mexican Revolution (1910–1920) began as an uprising against the dictatorship of Porfirio Díaz, with promises of land reform and social justice. Initially, the revolution aimed to redistribute power and resources to the disenfranchised, particularly Indigenous communities and peasants. However, after Díaz was overthrown, many revolutionary leaders became entrenched in power, adopting policies that benefited the new ruling class while marginalizing the groups they had vowed to uplift. The Institutional Revolutionary Party (PRI), which emerged from the revolution and dominated Mexican politics for seventy years, became a vehicle for maintaining elite control rather than popular empowerment. This centralized power ultimately prevented the meaningful changes in land distribution and equality the revolution had promised, replicating the old systems of oppression through new institutional forms.
These examples demonstrate how even movements rooted in liberation ideals can replicate structures of domination when they prioritize seizing and centralizing power. The problem wasn’t that these revolutions failed to capture state power; they succeeded. The problem was that they tried to use centralized state power to achieve liberatory ends, proving Bakunin’s insight that authoritarian organization cannot produce egalitarian society.
In contrast, radicals seek “power with,” a collective, shared form of power where communities come together to make decisions democratically without anyone exercising control over others.
Authority vs. Power: Legitimate, Consensual Leadership
In radical thought, authority based on mutual consent and collective respect can play a positive role. For example, in a healthcare setting, a nurse or doctor holds authority due to their expertise, but the patient grants this authority voluntarily. The patient consents to treatment based on trust in the healthcare provider’s skills and knowledge. The patient maintains autonomy throughout the process: they can ask questions, make decisions, or even refuse treatment.
This authority is consensual, revocable, and contextual. The patient can seek a second opinion, refuse treatment, or change providers. The authority doesn’t extend beyond the medical relationship into other areas of life. The doctor has no authority over the patient’s political views, career choices, or personal relationships. The relationship can be terminated at any time. This stands in stark contrast to state authority, which claims comprehensive jurisdiction over people’s lives, is imposed from birth regardless of consent, and is backed by force rather than freely given trust.
This kind of authority is collaborative, where the power dynamic respects the individual’s agency while recognizing the provider’s role based on expertise.
In contrast, coercive authority (such as that imposed by the state or corporations) is sustained through force or manipulation and lacks consent. State authority cannot be refused without severe consequences: imprisonment, violence, exile. Corporate authority over workers is backed by the threat of unemployment and poverty. These forms of authority are imposed, comprehensive, and maintained through coercion rather than trust. The key difference lies in how authority is exercised: consensually and transparently in the case of the nurse or doctor, versus coercively when imposed from above without accountability.
Building Collective Power: Horizontal Organizing in Practice
The radical vision of empowerment through collective self-determination rejects hierarchical leadership models in favor of horizontal organizing where decisions are made collectively. This approach distributes power across the community rather than concentrating it in the hands of a few. The Movimento Sem Terra (Landless Workers’ Movement) in Brazil powerfully embodies this vision, creating decentralized, self-governing communities across one of the world’s most unequal countries.
The MST, which advocates for land reform and workers’ rights, operates through a system of collective leadership that demonstrates how “power with” functions in practice. Local, regional, and national coordinating bodies are composed of elected representatives who serve limited terms. Importantly, these representatives remain directly involved in the movement’s grassroots work, maintaining a connection to the base. The MST also emphasizes political education for all members, ensuring broad participation in decision-making processes.
When disagreements arise within the MST, they employ a distinctive approach that reflects their commitment to collective decision-making. Rather than resolving conflicts through simple majority voting, the MST uses consensus-building processes that take concerns back to base groups for discussion. If consensus cannot be reached immediately, the debate returns to local assemblies and coordinating bodies until a decision gains genuine acceptance across the organization. Once decisions are made through this process, all members are expected to implement them, not because they were outvoted, but because they participated in a collective process that heard their concerns. This method ensures decisions genuinely reflect collective will rather than simple majorities overriding minorities.
To prevent informal hierarchies from emerging, the MST practices several key principles. All leadership positions are collective rather than individual and carry renewable two-year mandates. No single person serves as “president” or “director.” Tasks and responsibilities are distributed among teams so no one becomes overwhelmed or indispensable. Since the late 1990s, every leadership position must be occupied by both a man and a woman, doubling participation and ensuring gender equity isn’t just rhetoric but structural reality.
The MST’s organizational structure demonstrates how horizontal power actually functions at scale. Operating across 23 of Brazil’s 26 states with an estimated 1.5 million participants, the movement coordinates action from the local to the national level, all without creating a permanent leadership class or centralized command structure. Local encampments and settlements make decisions through assemblies, which then send mandated delegates to regional and national coordinating bodies. These delegates don’t make decisions on behalf of their communities; they carry positions decided collectively and can be recalled if they fail to represent their base accurately.
This model of shared power stands in stark contrast to the centralized, hierarchical power structures of the state and capitalism. It demonstrates that it’s possible to organize society in ways that distribute decision-making power broadly and equitably, rather than concentrating it in the hands of a small elite.
The contrast between the MST and conventional power structures is striking. Whereas states and corporations concentrate decision-making in boards, executives, and politicians who make choices affecting millions without their input, the MST ensures those affected by decisions participate in making them. Whereas conventional power structures create permanent classes of leaders and followers, the MST rotates roles and responsibilities. Whereas hierarchical systems guard expertise and information as sources of power, the MST shares skills and knowledge to empower everyone through political education. The movement demonstrates that “power with” isn’t just a philosophical ideal; it’s a practical organizational model that works at scale.
Rejecting the logic of power in radical thought does not mean abandoning all forms of organization or influence. Instead, it represents a fundamental shift from “power over” others to “power with” others. This approach envisions a world where authority is consensual, power is collective, and communities govern themselves without coercion. The MST and similar movements challenge traditional hierarchical structures by promoting decentralized systems, mutual aid networks, and horizontal organizing. Through these methods, radicals aim to dismantle unjust power structures and replace them with systems rooted in collective empowerment and autonomy. This transformation isn’t just about changing who holds power, but about fundamentally altering how power is conceived and exercised within society.
Rejecting hierarchical power is necessary but not sufficient. The question becomes: what do movements build in its place? How do they create the structures of collective self-governance that embody their vision? This is where prefigurative politics (organizing today as we envision society tomorrow) becomes essential. Having rejected “power over,” movements must actively build “power with” through the practices and institutions they create in the present.