I have always had a complicated relationship with the idea of authority. Not to say that I was rebellious in action: My family had a joke that my idea of teenage rebellion was to stay home and do homework. But I never did fully accept the idea that someone else could tell me what to do or think when I could see clear reasons that they were wrong. Authority was a strange thing, to me. It seemed like denying my own reality and experience, and subsuming my identity into someone else’s. I didn’t like that, at all.
Getting a job didn’t help this predisposition. Higher-ups make calls that don’t make sense except to themselves, and then change their mind, only to do something else that also doesn’t make sense. But every front-liner has to do what they say, because otherwise the powers will punish you, lightly at first, but progressively more and more harshly. This is the typical mode of authority, and I hate it.
Then I got married, and found that my wife and I straddle the line of the traditional concept of authority in marriage. I make the final call on a given decision, and my wife respects it. But I constantly seek her advice, making sure that she knows I will consider her concerns and thoughts carefully. She knows that I am likely to change my mind when I hear what she says. But even if I don’t, if I continue in my original decision, she knows that I heard her, and I will do what I can to make sure that her concerns are addressed. We are partners, intent on balancing each other to achieve our goals. She never needs to pretend to agree with me, and I’ve made it quite clear that I dislike it when she disagrees and doesn’t say so.
I’m not going to say this is a perfect system, but it works for us. And even in theory, I don’t mind this vision of authority. It doesn’t bother me, at all. And I know the response: “That’s just because you’re at the top of it. If you were the underling, you wouldn’t like it so much.” And that is an entirely just and fair thought.
I have a supervisor at work – we’ll call him “Dave.” He’s an odd fellow, to be sure: a touch absent-minded, with a strange sense of humor, and definitely one of those disconcerting nerds that are comfortable in their own skin (awkward nerds I can deal with – I am one). He is also the most competent person I’ve ever met, in our field, at least. He’s incredibly patient, a clear communicator, and a strategist. He clearly trusts in the competency of his crew, because he never micromanages – and also spends a fair amount of time telling people that he’s confident that they can figure out the correct answer to a problem without his help. He genuinely cares about the people under him, as well as the people we serve. Sometimes he can’t make the call that would make someone else happy, but he is consistent, open to advice, and fair.
Sound familiar?
If this supervisor left our company and founded another, I would go work for him. Not even a question. I would make it happen, and I would be happy to do so.
And now to my thesis:
There are two types of power in the world, Authority of Competence and Authority of Threat.
Authority of Competence is something that you put yourself under. You do this because you have common goals, and you trust that it is capable enough to make the correct decisions, perhaps more than you trust yourself. Competence is willing to listen to those under it, because it is aware that it may not have seen every concern or possibility. Even when it makes a mistake, it puts aside its own pride and does what is necessary to solve the issue. You know it cares about those under its wings, and so you submit yourself to it. This submission is voluntary, but true – it’s called Loyalty.
Authority of Threat is something that subjugates you. It says “I know better than you, and you have to do what I say, or I will hurt you. Your goals are not properly aligned with mine, so I must keep you on track. I cannot trust you to have competent thought, so I am going to dismiss your concerns.” It is prideful, and will not admit mistakes, instead blaming everyone else. It does not care about those under it, except as a means to its own ends. Threat may sometimes use rewards, disguising itself under a veneer of gentility, but in the end it uses those rewards against its subjects, threatening to remove them for disobedience. It overwhelms you and batters you into submission. You would never put yourself under it intentionally (unless there’s some things you should’ve seen a therapist about instead), and you will leave as soon as you can.
Do you see the difference? Do you feel it?
I am realistic enough to know that Authority of Threat, however negatively named, is still necessary sometimes, and effective. Sometimes the goals of an authority and a subject are indeed not aligned, and Threat is a language that they both understand. Sometimes a teenager needs to be told that they’re going to be grounded if they misbehave, or a child must be reprimanded for disobedience. But be aware of how these two modes exist in your life, both upon you and around you, but also in the areas in which you are the power. Authority of Threat is something that should never be used thoughtlessly. It is something that you should wield wisely, because it is powerful, and dangerous.