is one of the most common responses I get when I talk to people (usually liberals) about horizontal power structures. It comes down to some version of “Well, that sounds nice, but what about the bad actors?” I think the logic that follows from that fact is backwards. The standard response to this issue is to build vertical power structures. To appoint a ruling class that can supposedly “manage” the bad actors. But this ignores the obvious: vertical power structures are magnets for narcissists. They don’t neutralize those people. They empower them. They give them legitimacy and insulation from consequences. They concentrate power precisely where it’s most dangerous. Horizontal societies have always had ways of handling antisocial behavior. (Highly recommend Hierarchy in the Forest: The Evolution of Egalitarian Behavior by Christopher Boehm. He studied hundreds of forager societies, overall done amazing work.) Exile, public shaming, revocable leadership, and distributed decision-making all worked and often worked better than what we do now. Pre-civilized societies didn’t let power-hungry individuals take over. They stopped them. We used to know how to deal with bad actors. The idea of a “power vacuum” only makes sense if you believe power must be held at the top. If you diffuse power horizontally, there is no vacuum to fill. There’s just shared responsibility. That may feel unfamiliar, but it’s not impossible. We’ve done it before. Most of human history was built on it. The real question isn’t whether bad actors exist. It’s how we choose to deal with them. Do we build systems that make it harder for them to dominate others, or ones that practically roll out the red carpet? I think this opens up a more useful conversation.
What if we started seriously discussing tactics for dealing with domination-seeking behavior?
What mechanisms help us identify and isolate that kind of behavior without reproducing the same old coercive structures?
How do we build systems that are resilient to sabotage without falling into authoritarian logic?
I’d love to hear your guys’ thoughts.
The question that comes to my mind is, “Who’s ‘we’, Kimosabe?” (It’s the punchline of a joke.)
In the drone example, half of the community acknowledges that the operators are doing terrible shit. The other half of the community things it’s fantastic. What then? The half that deplores the killing isn’t likely to do much about it, because the killing is happening to somebody else on the other side of the world. If they try to stop it violently, the killing will start happening to them.
I really shouldn’t, but I’m gonna take on your hypothetical situation where half of the community is fine with destroying another community.
First, if half of any community supports mass violence, that’s a crisis of values, not a failure of anarchism. An anarchist society wouldn’t have drones or the infrastructure for such violence in the first place. Those things thrive on centralization and detachment.
But alright, let’s say it happens anyway. If half supports the violence, the other half would organize, resist, and dismantle the structures enabling it. It wouldn’t be easy, but that’s the point of horizontal power. No one person or group has the unchecked ability to destroy at scale.
In the end, the problem isn’t lack of control, it’s a broken culture that normalizes cruelty. Anarchism doesn’t guarantee peace, but it prevents that violence from becoming institutionalized and detached from consequences.