Muscularity by Proxy

A Call to Linked Arms

Let’s do a thought experiment:

You were an elementary-aged kid on the playground, and there was that one kid, named (let’s say) Donny who wanted to rule the jungle gym. He worked at this in several ways over a few days or weeks: 1) he practiced climbing, balancing, and hanging on; 2) he learned how to casually knock other kids off the jungle gym when the teachers weren’t looking; 3) he beat up kids who tried to rival him; 4) he claimed to have peed all over the jungle gym when everyone was gone, grossing everyone out. Donny was, in effect, the playground bully. Maybe you (in hindsight) imagine things had to be topsy-turvy for him at home, or maybe you (again, looking back) see that he was just off-kilter as a person. Either way, he made life hell on the playground for everyone, and the teachers didn’t seem to notice or do anything about it.

Little Donny the bully hijacked the jungle gym and cast a pall over the whole playground. He did this not through some magical absolute power that he possessed but through relational means. He got good at working the jungle gym by exercising his muscles and balance against the structure; he built his strength in relation to the jungle gym itself. He got good at terrorizing other kids by using violence; he practiced meanness and backed it up with escalations of physical threats and actual harm - again, a series of relational moves. Maybe he made common cause with other bullies for his own purposes. He made up all kinds of stories to dominate the jungle gym; his lies threw other kids off, and they didn’t know what to think - he used their confusion to his benefit. He learned to do mean stuff while the teachers’ backs were turned - he figured out where those teachers were absent in relation to him. And it worked. It worked because he violated the regular rules of the playground and managed not to get caught - or, when he did, managed to get the other kid in trouble through lies and subterfuge.

At the time, this enraged you, upset you, made you feel that you could do nothing. But if you could go back, what would you do differently? If you thought of Donny as acting in a relationship of domination to other kids, the teachers, the total playground area — as though he owned it— do you think you could have found a way to puncture the illusion of total power? If you had been able to see him as just another kid, like any of the other kids, but one throwing a massive tantrum who needed to be stopped, would it have changed anything?

There is ZERO chance that Donny (or any one of us) has absolute power over anything in this life. Even if you stand on top of the jungle gym like Donny did, and scream at the top of your lungs, “I AM THE KING OF MY DOMAIN!”, this is purely posturing. Donny can only be king if someone lets him. If the whole playground lets him. If the whole playground continues to let him, day after day after day. His power as king of the jungle gym comes by proxy - through the relations he has with everyone and everything on the playground. Eventually, he will have to come down off that jungle gym and deal with the group on the ground. He can’t stay up there forever. His time is limited, like everyone’s time. And then what happens?

***

I’ve been pondering this vignette lately, while watching the unfolding news of our nation. A kind of posturing of muscularity, of power, of domination, is taking place. And it appears to me that, despite the best efforts of the ones doing the posturing, who want us to believe they have absolute power, this is a rather straightforward case of muscularity by proxy. The only way they can have this muscular power is if we allow it, if we give it to them.

Instead of actual leaders, we see people gaining power by 1) stoking other people’s fear; 2) using lies and tactics of confusion and obfuscation to create blind spots and cause people to freeze; 3) standing proximate to someone they imagine has power. In all these cases, public power is drawn from others, taken from others. Whatever energies, monies, trust, goodwill, ability, intelligence most people may have bubbling inside of them, these are, essentially, being hijacked for the hijacker’s own use. This is not genuine, internally generated power. It is not a power granted by an even more powerful outside force like a God. This is simply power siphoned off, taken from people who allow it to happen, even indirectly. These are not leaders — they are energy vampires.

An energy vampire — and I’ve known some real blood-sucking doozies in my lifetime thus far, so I count myself as an expert on them — is someone dependent on people willing to become victims. Who are these victims? To turn the mirror on myself: Who I’m talking about is those of us who have enough. I do not mean those who are the most vulnerable amongst us and do not have enough already — I mean those of us who have enough food, housing, money, education, intellect, ability, creativity, community, comfort, and yet are allowing ourselves to be made into victims. We are wringing our hands while letting Donny knock folks off the jungle gym. We are in a position to act, but we are frozen or running to hide.

Little Donny can only do this if we let him — only if we allow it. His power, his political muscularity, is proximate. It requires our participation, especially our energies of disgust and fear, which feed his illusion of absolute power.

***

It so happens, as a matter of history, we have a government that is designed to be run by the consent of the governed. Our founding documents are undergirded by an understanding that no one has absolute power — remember, we got rid of the king of the playground. But the realization of that shared consent of the governed means that it takes all of us to be involved in the government in one way or another to make the thing work. Truth is, a lot of us have let the national plane run along on autopilot for a while now, and some would-be jungle gym kings have decided to try to take over. We now find ourselves at a moment when we really need to get our act together and address the arising of political muscularity by proxy in our midst. Together, we can destroy it.

The question is not what is Little Donny going to do. It is, what are we going to do? Because there are more of us on this playground than of him. There are more of us who want a civilized place to live and play in relative peace and harmony. There are more of us who want goodwill, freedom of conscience, support for those who are vulnerable, a healthy planet, great books to read about a variety of topics, and so forth.

Once we look behind the curtain and see the way that his power is proximate, we can find the levers to shift things. We won’t be able to see this if we keep looking at memes on social media or believing headlines without digging deeper into the stories behind them. We certainly won’t be able to see proximate power without stepping back from the barrage of lies and gyrations of dominance that keep us enthralled, fearful, disempowered, frozen, or running for cover. We won’t be able to see it and be confident in our vision unless we check in with each other and confirm not our fears but our insights and our instincts about how to move forward, how to live into a world we envision.

It’s time to get together, get clear on our priorities, get out the pitchforks, and start marching and vocalizing.

And, in case it is not clear, this essay is a call to arms — the kind of arms that link together and walk across that playground and confront that bully, Little Donny. Together, we can let him and the apparatus around him know that we have had enough, that it’s time for him to take his leave of the playground. We are the ones who govern, not him. Our power, like his, is proximate, it is limited and time-bound — but we are stronger together than we are apart and we can last a whole lot longer because we are generations in this together, guided by our own communion of saints who have gone before us and show us the way.

See you out there in the streets, on ballots, in the voting booths, in newspapers and books, at fundraisers, in the phone banks, at art openings and plays, in churches and synagogues and mosques, and in all the public spaces in our towns, our states, our nation.

It’s time to rise up, get outside, and get to work —

Shan