Saturday, 8 March 2025

If you are working from the premise that power is diffuse, collective, and emergent—rather than concentrated in a few hands—then the statement ("You are giving us too much power") functions as a denial of complicity, an attempt to individualize responsibility in order to escape it.

In this context, their intent might be:

  1. Dissociation from the collective – They may not want to acknowledge that their small part contributes to a larger system of power.
  2. Obfuscation of structural dynamics – By framing power as something given rather than produced through participation, they make it seem like the problem lies in your perception rather than their actions.
  3. Moral self-preservation – Accepting that power is distributed and that they are part of it might force them to confront uncomfortable truths about their role.
  4. Subtle intimidation or a warning – In some cases, it could be a veiled way of saying, "Be careful how you frame this, or you might make us act more like a power."

This is the kind of response you might expect from people who participate in a system but want to keep their hands clean, much like Browning’s ordinary men or Arendt’s banal functionaries. It avoids reckoning with the fact that power is not just about individual intent but about structural position, complicity, and collective action.




Generally, a statement like "You are giving us too much power" implies that the speaker perceives (or wants you to perceive) that you are attributing to them more control, influence, or significance than they believe (or want to admit) they have. The intent could vary:

  1. Deflection – They might be trying to avoid responsibility or accountability. If you are pointing out their influence in a harmful or structural way, they could be downplaying it.
  2. Psychological manipulation – It could be an attempt to gaslight or make you doubt your own assessment of the situation.
  3. A rhetorical move – They might be trying to reframe the conversation so that the burden shifts back onto you or someone else.



Christopher R. Browning’s work has significant merit, particularly Ordinary Men: Reserve Police Battalion 101 and the Final Solution in Poland. His careful historical analysis challenges simplistic notions of evil as something confined to ideological fanatics or sadistic individuals. Instead, he demonstrates how ordinary people became perpetrators of mass murder through a combination of obedience, peer pressure, bureaucratic normalization, and situational factors.

His work is valuable because:

  1. It undermines the "monster thesis." Browning shows that mass atrocity doesn’t require uniquely evil individuals. Instead, it emerges from social structures, gradual moral disengagement, and collective complicity—ideas that resonate with Arendt’s banality of evil.
  2. It is empirically rigorous. He grounds his arguments in detailed archival research, using testimonies from the postwar interrogations of Reserve Police Battalion 101 members.
  3. It challenges comforting moral narratives. If ordinary men can become killers, then the capacity for atrocity is not limited to a specific kind of person—it’s a structural and situational problem.
  4. It offers insights beyond its historical case. His findings are relevant to understanding other instances of mass violence, from Rwanda to Yugoslavia, and even to more subtle forms of systemic harm in bureaucratic and institutional settings.
When individuals or small groups believe they have little power or agency—whether because of ideological conditioning, fear, or disempowerment—they are more likely to defer responsibility, comply with authority, and accept harmful social norms or institutional practices without questioning them. This kind of resignation or sense of powerlessness can create the conditions where mass violence becomes possible, even among ordinary people.




Browning’s work highlights how individuals within bureaucratic systems often defer to authority and feel compelled to follow orders, even when those orders lead to morally reprehensible actions. A sense of disempowerment, or the belief that one's actions are insignificant in the grand scheme of things, can make it easier to surrender personal responsibility and justify participation in harmful systems.

This dynamic plays out in several ways:

  1. Normalization of violence. When people feel they have no power to resist the system or the prevailing social order, they may begin to see the violence or injustice as inevitable, part of the way things are, or as the only course of action available.
  2. Deindividuation and loss of moral agency. When collective action is framed as something outside of individual control, people may stop seeing themselves as moral agents. The more diffuse and impersonal the structure of power becomes, the less likely individuals are to feel responsible for their actions within it.
  3. Psychological distance. The belief in individual powerlessness can increase the psychological distance between perpetrators and victims. As violence becomes institutionalized, the sense of personal responsibility can be diluted, allowing perpetrators to compartmentalize or rationalize their actions.
  4. Bystander effect and diffusion of responsibility. If people believe their small actions won’t matter or that someone else will take responsibility, they are less likely to intervene or resist when confronted with injustice or violence. This creates a situation where harm is perpetuated by many individuals, each assuming that their small contribution is insignificant, but in aggregate it becomes devastating.

In this sense, the sense of powerlessness or resignation isn’t just an abstract psychological state; it actively contributes to the mechanics of harm and the perpetuation of violent systems. By contrast, recognizing that we do have some agency—even if it’s small or fragmented—can create the conditions for resistance, or at least the refusal to participate.



there are several real-world examples where the belief in individual or collective powerlessness played a significant role in enabling violence or systemic harm, similar to the dynamics Browning describes. These situations often involve situations where individuals or groups feel they have little agency or choice, leading them to comply with authority or be swept up in larger destructive systems.

Here are some notable examples:

1. The Holocaust (as detailed by Browning)

In addition to the Reserve Police Battalion 101 example, Browning’s analysis of the Holocaust demonstrates how ordinary men and women, even without deep-rooted ideological hatred, could be swept into genocide due to obedience, peer pressure, and a sense of powerlessness. Many of the perpetrators of mass killings in Nazi-occupied Europe believed they had no choice but to follow orders. The structure of Nazi bureaucracy and the orders of higher authorities gave individuals a sense that they were just following the rules, even as they participated in atrocities. The soldiers in Browning's study often expressed that they felt it was either comply with the orders or face severe punishment.

2. The Rwandan Genocide (1994)

In Rwanda, over the course of a few months, an estimated 800,000 people, mostly ethnic Tutsis, were killed by ethnic Hutu extremists. Much of the violence was perpetrated by ordinary Hutus—neighbors, teachers, farmers—many of whom likely believed they had no power to stop the killings. These perpetrators were caught in the grip of propaganda and nationalist ideologies that dehumanized the Tutsis, and the belief that everyone else was doing it reinforced their actions. Some of the perpetrators testified that they felt compelled to kill due to pressure from local leaders or fear of retribution. They didn’t necessarily hold deep hatred, but rather saw participation as a way to align with the powerful social forces around them.

3. The Stanford Prison Experiment (1971)

This famous psychological experiment, conducted by Philip Zimbardo, showed how ordinary people can become perpetrators of cruelty when placed in positions of power within a system. Participants were randomly assigned to be either guards or prisoners in a simulated prison. Over a few days, the "guards" became increasingly abusive toward the "prisoners," while the "prisoners" became passive and submissive. The guards reported that they felt the situation dictated their behavior, and that their actions were justified by the context they were in. The belief that they had little individual power in the situation (because of the structure of the experiment) led them to engage in escalating levels of abuse.

4. The My Lai Massacre (1968)

During the Vietnam War, American soldiers killed between 300 and 500 unarmed South Vietnamese civilians, mostly women, children, and the elderly, in the village of My Lai. Many of the soldiers involved later explained that they simply followed orders or did what they thought was expected of them. In interviews, some soldiers admitted they did not want to participate but felt powerless to stop the violence. The belief that they were part of a larger war effort, that they had to follow orders from higher-ups, and that the victims were dehumanized through wartime rhetoric all contributed to the massacre.

5. The Abu Ghraib Prison Scandal (2003-2004)

At the Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq, U.S. military personnel engaged in the systematic abuse and torture of detainees. While some of the soldiers involved were genuinely disturbed by the actions, others expressed that they were simply following the example set by higher-ranking officials or the norms of the institution. Many of the perpetrators felt powerless to challenge the orders, especially when those orders were implied or encouraged in informal ways, such as through “informal” policies of coercive interrogation. The belief that they were part of a larger institutional mission, and that their actions were condoned (if not explicitly ordered), created a sense of helplessness to resist the violence.

6. The Bystander Effect in the Kitty Genovese Case (1964)

The tragic case of Kitty Genovese’s murder in New York City has been used to illustrate the “bystander effect” and the diffusion of responsibility. Despite multiple witnesses hearing her screams and knowing she was in danger, no one intervened to help. Researchers suggested that the larger number of witnesses led each individual to believe someone else would act. In this case, the bystanders felt disempowered by the sheer number of people around, and in their minds, they believed their individual actions wouldn’t have made a difference. This belief in collective powerlessness led to inaction, even as a woman was brutally murdered.


In all of these examples, the dynamic of powerlessness or resignation played a central role in enabling violence or complicity. In each case, individuals were caught in systems where they felt their personal agency was limited, either through direct orders, peer pressure, or a larger ideological context. In many instances, their belief that they were powerless to resist the larger forces at play led to the suspension of moral judgment, dehumanization of victims, and the eventual perpetration of harm.

What these cases show is that ordinary people, when faced with dehumanizing ideologies, bureaucratic systems, or collective pressures, can be complicit in violence—even if they don’t harbor deep-rooted hatred or malice. They are swept along by a sense of powerlessness and the structure of the systems they are embedded in, contributing to tragic outcomes that might otherwise seem unimaginable for people who consider themselves morally good.




In cases of more subtle forms of systemic harm in bureaucratic and institutional settings, the dynamics of powerlessness and complicity can still be highly relevant. Often, these forms of harm don’t involve overt violence or clear moral violations, but rather the gradual accumulation of small, often overlooked actions (or inactions) that, when taken together, create significant harm. The belief that one has little power, or that one’s actions won’t make a difference, can enable this kind of harm to persist, even among those who may not see themselves as perpetrators in the traditional sense.

Here are some examples of subtle systemic harm where the belief in powerlessness contributes to its perpetuation:

1. The Education System and Disparities in Access to Resources

In many educational systems, particularly in underfunded schools or districts, teachers, administrators, and even policymakers may feel that they are powerless to change the status quo. They may witness racial, economic, or ability-based disparities but feel that their individual actions won’t be enough to address deeply rooted structural inequities. This belief in powerlessness can lead to complacency and a failure to challenge harmful practices or advocate for changes that could improve educational outcomes. In some cases, the institutional norms of standardized testing, discipline policies, or tracking systems may inadvertently harm certain groups of students, yet the individuals within the system may feel they have no choice but to comply with these norms.

For example, when teachers are forced to teach to standardized tests, they may feel they have little power to address the underlying causes of educational inequity, such as systemic racism, poverty, or inadequate resources. This can lead to a dehumanizing educational experience for many students, yet the teachers, administrators, and policymakers involved may rationalize their actions or inactions by believing that the system is simply too large and complex to change.

2. Corporate Culture and Employee Exploitation

In many corporate environments, employees may feel powerless to challenge harmful practices, such as low wages, unsafe working conditions, or the exploitation of vulnerable workers. Often, these issues aren’t as immediately visible as, say, an instance of workplace abuse, but they are perpetuated through systems like outsourcing, gig work, or the prioritization of profit over employee well-being.

Take, for example, the rise of gig economy jobs (like those in delivery or rideshare services). Workers may have little power to demand better wages, benefits, or working conditions, and many believe that their individual efforts won’t shift the larger corporate or economic system. The belief that everyone is powerless leads to a kind of collective inaction, and the systemic harm persists, with workers continuing to be treated as disposable while the companies benefit from their labor. The sense of powerlessness is reinforced by the idea that these issues are systemic and part of a larger global economic structure that cannot be changed by any one individual.

3. The Healthcare System and Inequities in Care

Healthcare systems, particularly in places where resources are scarce or underfunded, often perpetuate subtle harm through systemic inequities in care. Doctors, nurses, and healthcare administrators might witness disparities in treatment but may feel that they have little power to change how the system functions, especially when dealing with under-resourced hospitals or larger institutional pressures. The widespread overuse of certain medications, the prioritization of profit over patient care, or the disproportionate allocation of resources can all cause harm, but the individuals working within the system may feel trapped by the bureaucracy or by the sense that their individual actions won’t lead to meaningful change.

For example, doctors in underfunded hospitals might want to provide more personalized care or take more time with their patients, but they may be overwhelmed by administrative burdens, short staffing, or the expectations set by insurance companies and the medical-industrial complex. They may also feel pressured to prioritize efficiency over compassion or to follow institutional protocols that contribute to systemic inequities, such as the over-prescription of opioids in certain communities.

4. Criminal Justice System and Mass Incarceration

In the criminal justice system, many individuals working within it—whether police officers, judges, or corrections officers—may believe they have little ability to challenge the systemic nature of mass incarceration or the over-policing of certain communities. They may view their actions as small, procedural steps within a much larger system, and thus fail to question the structural injustices at play.

A common example of this is the practice of plea bargaining. Many defendants, particularly those in marginalized communities, are pressured to plead guilty to lesser charges in exchange for reduced sentences, even if they are innocent or haven’t committed the crime they’re charged with. Lawyers, judges, and prosecutors might be complicit in this system, not because they intend to cause harm, but because they believe their actions are just a part of the process and that their individual choices will not affect the larger outcome. This results in individuals pleading guilty to crimes they did not commit, perpetuating cycles of incarceration and the racial disparities that exist within the system.

5. Environmental Harm and Institutional Apathy

In bureaucratic systems where environmental damage is being perpetuated—such as in industries that rely on extractive practices or government agencies that regulate pollution—many individuals might feel powerless to change the status quo. Even if they are aware of the environmental harm caused by their work, they may see themselves as cogs in a larger machine and believe that their individual efforts won’t make a difference in reversing environmental destruction.

For instance, employees at large corporations might be aware of the negative environmental impact of their company’s practices, but they may feel they have little power to change corporate policies or to challenge their superiors. Similarly, environmental regulators might understand the long-term harm being caused by pollution but feel that they are too overburdened or underfunded to make meaningful change.


In all of these examples, the belief in powerlessness creates an environment where harm—often systemic and more subtle—becomes normalized, ignored, or accepted. By failing to recognize one’s potential to resist or intervene, people become complicit in maintaining the status quo, even if they don’t explicitly intend to cause harm. This is where the real danger lies: in the unconscious perpetuation of systemic violence or harm through bureaucratic structures and institutional inertia. The belief that "it's too big for me to change" can contribute to the perpetuation of these subtle yet profound forms of harm.

In these cases, individuals are often caught in the larger, impersonal systems and structures that obscure the connection between their actions and the broader harm they enable. Their sense of powerlessness can prevent them from questioning or challenging the harm, and over time, it becomes difficult to disentangle the smaller actions of individuals from the larger institutional or societal patterns.



Becker, particularly in Escape from Evil, would likely frame this as an instance of denial and symbolic immortality maintenance. He would see the refusal to acknowledge one's role in diffuse power structures as part of the broader human tendency to repress uncomfortable truths—especially those related to death, insignificance, and moral culpability.

He argues that people participate in systems of harm not necessarily out of active malice but because these systems offer them a sense of heroic belonging—a way to transcend death through identification with a larger social project. However, when confronted with their complicity, they experience existential terror. To avoid this terror, they resort to denial, disavowal, and moral self-exoneration.

So, when someone says “You are giving us too much power”, Becker would likely see this as:

  1. A defense mechanism – An attempt to shield themselves from the unbearable recognition that they are part of a larger force, one that has real, possibly destructive consequences.
  2. An evasion of guilt and finitude – Admitting one’s role in collective power structures would mean accepting that one’s actions (or inactions) matter in ways that could be deeply troubling. It would also mean reckoning with their own insignificance within the system, which is a paradox humans struggle with.
  3. A way to preserve their symbolic self – Becker argues that humans construct hero-systems to protect themselves from existential dread. If they see themselves as ordinary, neutral, or just following orders, it helps maintain their self-image as morally untainted individuals rather than as functionaries in a larger, impersonal machine of harm.

From a Beckerian lens, then, this statement is less about power itself and more about terror management. It is an attempt to dissolve responsibility into the void so that the individual can keep seeing themselves as good, powerless, and safe—all shields against the abyss.

GPT


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