Emergent Tyranny: The Seed of Human Suffering Within Us All

Confront your demons before they destroy that which you love most

The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed in Sun — William Blake, ca. 1803–1805 [1]

“Enlighten the people generally, and tyranny and oppression of the body and mind will vanish like evil spirits at the dawn of day.” — Thomas Jefferson

Humanity’s capacity for tyranny, and its tendency to emerge —bringing with it a devouring and insatiable appetite for suffering — appears universal throughout human societies and across time. Yet the more I try to isolate its origins and understand its psychological contours, the more I’ve come to see this demonic element of our species as inextricably entwined with elements of humanity — typically portrayed positively — like love, compassion, and safety. Tyranny isn’t devoid of such ideals; it’s a strategy for pursuing them in the face of uncertainty. In fact it may represent humanity’s oldest strategy for doing so.

Yet it’s an incomplete strategy, and one accompanied by a host of undesirable — often murderous — side-effects. So how do we avoid it? It’s my belief that by understanding and controlling the emergence of tyranny within ourselves, we build a world absent the fertile soil in which tyranny’s “evil spirits” plant their strangling vines at larger scales. To that end, I’d like to address the following questions:

What forces precipitate the psychological roots of tyranny?

Why does tyrannical behavior emerge at increasing scales of human behavior?

How can one combat these self — and world — destroying tendencies?

To understand and act upon the following is to take responsibility for one’s own life and to spare the lives of those one might otherwise tyrannize; it’s to fully own one’s personal responsibility for tyranny’s emergence, and to play one’s part in freeing our world from its clutches.

The Psychological Roots of Tyranny

For our purposes, let’s define tyranny as:

“The cruel, unreasonable, or arbitrary use of power or control.”

From where does this tendency emerge? It’s easy to imagine those who exercise such methods of power or control as a breed apart from the rest; unlike us, they are heartless monsters out to impose their tyrannical will upon the innocent. But of course that’s a caricature. It’s a caricature we create — as a shield — to protect ourselves from the nagging suspicion that the tendency toward tyranny lurks deep within our own soul. But unfortunately for all, lurk it does.

Given the often disastrous repercussions of exercising such a tendency, why would it exist within us all? The theory I find most compelling, explored at length in Dr. Jordan Peterson’s seminal work Maps of Meaning, posits that the capacity for tyranny resides within us as a strategy for preventing the intrusion of uncertainty into our otherwise stable psychological environment. In other words, tyranny is a psychological shield we use to protect ourselves from unwanted exposure to negative emotional states, a tool for preempting painful change and justifying the use of outdated models of the world. Or as Peterson puts it:

“The Tyrannical Father rules absolutely, while the kingdom withers or becomes paralyzed; his decrepitude and age are matched only by his arrogance, inflexibility and blindness to evil. He is the personification of the authoritarian or totalitarian state, whose “goal” is reduction of all who are currently living to manifestation of a single dead “past” personality.” [2]

But how is it possible to tyrannize oneself? To imagine Self Tyranny, it helps to personify one’s own desires and needs as “inner gods” [3]. Picture your mind as a pantheon filled with inner gods, each pursuing their own needs (Love, Hunger, Success, Validation). Sometimes they cooperate, but often they compete for the reigns to one’s consciousness, for the right to govern one’s actions. That is, until another god becomes powerful enough to reclaim the reins and pursue its own goals. For example, as your last meal recedes further into the past, your god of Hunger grows in power, eventually taking the reigns from all others and directing you toward a source of food.

Ancient Inner Gods — The “heart deities” of Taoism

But perhaps you end up at an entirely new restaurant, as your god of Novelty stole the reins from Hunger for a few moments (sneaky bastard), and now you must decide what to eat. Despite Hunger’s current power, he’s now confronted by a host of other gods clamoring for the reins. Of course Novelty is at it again, and wants to try the unpronounceable dish you’ve never before seen. But there’s also Familiarity — who likes chicken, and Worry — who’s checking the menu against your list of dietary restrictions. Of course, Vanity and Health have allied in favor of the Greek salad. Worst of all Doubt — that intolerable party-pooper — simply wants to walk out the door. What do you do?

Point being, your overall behavior is a result of interactions within an arena of competing and cooperating forces, not an inevitable consequence of some innate “self” or “identity”. Our Conscious Self — the part of oneself that exercises free will— may intervene in such decisions, but it’s not mandatory; such intervention takes practice, and resembles a delicate exercise in the domestic politics of the mind. And much like in everyday politics, intervention takes a great deal of energy and can be quite messy, inefficient, and downright enraging. But over time — and relative to one’s goals —a solution emerges: we create a set of rules governing which god gets to hold the reigns at any given time, a psychological schema mapping the meaning of events in one’s environment to one’s behavioral response, as actions in the world. This mapping is you, and evolves as you make your way through life. The strategies you use to intervene and manage your inner gods evolve over time, perhaps from referee, to executive, to politician, coach, parent, or something else entirely.

Yet how does this relate to tyranny? The degree of conscious power and control we possess over our inner gods raises an important moral question: what’s an appropriate relationship between one’s Conscious Self and one’s inner gods? What role should one play in the unfolding drama of the mind? It’s here that many of us unknowingly descend into Self Tyranny. When we feel we’ve lost control over our inner gods — when our usual psychological schema ceases to achieve our desired outcomes — we turn to the abusive tools of tyranny rather than to those of Courage, Curiosity, or Empathy. Given new challenges, we mistakenly double-down on outdated strategies, producing more harm than good. We lash out, imprison, or punish rather than channeling the Courage necessary for growth.

He’s easy to spot in another, but can you find him in yourself?

Self Tyranny comes in many forms: we may punish ourselves for events beyond our control; we may impose harsh rebukes upon ourselves for minor errors; we may attempt to extinguish our own basic human needs rather than reform the means by which we satisfy them; we may drown, in drugs or alcohol, the inner gods whose voices we dislike; and worst of all, we may avoid necessary sacrifices in the present, petrified by the changes such sacrifices may bring. All of these responses have something in common: fear of the unknown. This fear— and corresponding desire for increased control — represents a naturally evolved response to uncertainty. But here’s the problem: allowing these instincts to govern one’s response to uncertainty risks becoming an unconscionable tyrant over one’s own pantheon of needs.

Over the course of our lives — by enforcing tyranny over ourselves — we carve a widening gap between our actual needs and the needs we actually satisfy. This mismatch creates more dread, uncertainty, and chaos, which in turn further widens the gap, eventually triggering a spiraling descent into a Hell of one’s own design. And so we come to increasingly hate those parts of ourselves we cannot control; as our inner tyrant grows in response to our increasingly futile attempts at self-suppression, we grow to hate ourselves entirely. All greater forms of tyranny germinate from this seed of self-hatred.

The Emergence of Social Tyranny: Transcending Self, Infecting Other

Most are familiar with the tale of the Princess and the Pea, Hans Christian Andersen’s 19th century fairy tale. As the story goes, a prince’s mother devises a test of nobility in which she places a single pea beneath 20 mattresses: if the princess — who must sleep upon this Tower of Bedding — notices anything amiss, the prince may put to rest concerns over her nobility.

A small change at a lower layer distorts the layers above it

Whatever you may think of the social mores of 19th century Denmark, the story helps visualize how changes deep within systems can bubble up into meaningful events at higher levels. The pea creates distortions which reverberate outward and upward through many different layers of mattresses. Those sensitive or motivated enough may notice even the slightest such distortions. But what does this have to do with Self Tyranny?

Much like the pea, our actions reverberate outward and upward through many layers of society. How we act toward ourselves will impact the way we act toward others, which will impact the way they act toward themselves and others, and so on up the stack. Some of these actions may wash out over time — imparting no overall impact — but many do not. Many of our behaviors combine with the behaviors of others to create ever larger patterns of collective behavior within ever larger social contexts. Your actions matter, even if it’s not always immediately apparent. Furthermore your actions directly relate to actions at even the highest echelons of our society, because all social structures emerge bottom-up, even if many are later managed top-down. Each layer of the pyramid acts as foundation for those above it, and without solid foundations, the pyramid will crumble.

Therefore by tyrannizing oneself, one directly contributes to the creation and viability of tyrannical behavior at all levels of society. Many such levels exist, but let’s trace this pattern of emergence across four identifiable categories of interaction, in order of increasing scale:

Self Tyranny — Tyranny of oneself, as examined above

— Tyranny of oneself, as examined above Interpersonal Tyranny — Tyranny of individuals by other individuals

— Tyranny of individuals by other individuals Asymmetric Tyranny —Tyranny between individuals and groups

—Tyranny between individuals and groups Collective Tyranny — Tyranny between and within groups

The lines between these categories can get blurry, as the relationship of an individual to society is much like that of a water molecule to the ocean — given that all layers constantly interact with one another, drawing lines is difficult. But much like mattresses stacked atop one another, this interaction and mixing is precisely what allows behaviors at lower levels to create emergent patterns of behavior at higher levels.

Let’s examine what this process of emergent tyranny might look like. If — when the dragon of uncertainty rears its head — you make a habit of using tyrannical tactics to manage your own inner gods, it’s likely you’ll use those same tactics to manage the behavior of others when interpersonal uncertainty arises. For example, if I often use guilt to manage my own emotions and desires, I’ll likely do so when I feel the need to manage yours. This isn’t necessarily because I dislike you or want to cause you harm: no, it’s because guilt is a familiar tool I’m in the habit of using to deal with the dragon of uncertainty, and at the moment you’re the dragon. This is how we impose our own authoritarian instincts upon one another in the domain of Interpersonal Tyranny — a prelude, if you will, to the symphony of suffering at higher levels of emergent tyranny.

Statistically, some percentage of people — after experiencing short-term personal success using both Self and Interpersonal Tyranny as social strategies — will assume positions of power within their social groups. This unfortunate event marks the beginning of Asymmetric Tyranny, in which a tyrant assumes control over a group. It’s crucial to note that this is not inevitable, and depends largely upon the moral values and actions of the group in question. For example, a group comprised of individuals with strong counter-norms and a culture that minimizes tyranny’s emergence at the level of the individual will see fewer incidents of tyrants taking control over groups. Though if a tyrant is given power over a group, the group becomes more likely to spread suffering via another form of Asymmetric Tyranny: abuse of the individual by the group. Working as a collective organism, the tyrant’s puppets will readily exploit the strategy of tyranny against others. Historical examples abound, and were eventually distilled into the idea of the tyranny of the majority. As the Greek poet Euripides put it in his Orestes: