Violence And Power

I must preface with the fact that, on the whole, this is a personal reflection. I have a lot of feelings about violence and power – I will be addressing the former first. I cannot be certain that within my writings there will be anything of genuine philosophical merit, which is why I plan to keep this to myself, perhaps to be published as part of some collection at a later time, since I find myself writing more and more as of late. For now, though, this is a place for me to clear the air, and create a new relationship with these concepts that will allow me to be more productive in the future. I will be primarily descriptive rather than prescriptive here; though my own will to power pushes me to impress my values on the galaxy, I am not yet at the point when I have the means to do so.


I have considered myself a pacifist for much of my life. It was, for the most part, hard pacifism – no war can be justified, no violence permissible, save perhaps the most dire moments of self-preservation. It’s a very moral stance; there’s always a better way, we can resolve things peacefully. Even among Jedi, there was a certain superiority I felt; everyone else carried a weapon that could kill someone in a single stroke, whilst I could say, “I don’t need one, I’m better than this”. In an ideal galaxy, maybe I could keep that belief, and I still find it compelling; what little I have seen of war has terrified me, even the violence inflicted by my companions. I have been luckier than most, but still there are scars.

War is not productive (the people who suggest it is good for the economy are both heartless and incorrect) and I will continue to oppose it when necessary, but to be completely opposed to violence is to ignore its pervasiveness and, in a way, its necessity.

It occurs to me that violence can have different meanings, and though I will clarify those in a moment, it is also important to consider the context in which I use the term. Calling something “violent” can in turn imply that violence is inherent to the thing; calling a person “dangerous” places the violence first, implying that the person has no right to self defense, because they are likely to do violence first. In the same vein, criminals entering a courtroom under heavy armed guard are more likely to be seen as violent merely by association. Anyone can use the term violence to shape public perception, whether the media, the state, or the individual.

This is a personal reflection; naturally that comes with personal bias, and I will doubtless apply the term to a group or person. However, I will try to keep my perspective to that of an outside observer, and most often I will relate violence to myself. Otherwise, I will try to make the context for the violence clear, should it ever change.

The first and most obvious conception of violence is as the act of doing harm. If you punch me, that is violence. Of course, this extends beyond physical – harming someone psychologically, or by some other less tangible means, is still violence. Verbal and psychological abuse can be just as harmful as physical abuse.

This violence is easy to oppose. To hurt another sapient being is wrong; it is necessarily antithetical to life, as a denial of another’s wellbeing. On greater scales this takes the form of war, of slavery, of the myriad of ways great societal forces conspire to harm the people of the galaxy, intentional or not. No person of sound mind condones all violence.

Yet, we quickly come to the question: how can we prevent violence? The answer most come to – though some may hope for individual self-restraint or bad conscience to prevent violence – requires violence as well. Contractarianism would give the state a monopoly over violence; a utilitarian might posit that the only time the state should intervene is to prevent violence. Our modern states have enormous capacity for violence; the various police and ‘security’ forces necessarily use violence on behalf of the state, not to mention the vast militaries fielded by every galactic nation. This capacity of violence is a product of power – the power of the state implies the violence necessary to enforce its power.

In this way, I must reject any absolute pacifism if I am to be part of politics. Politics is the management of ruling power (among other things), and by partaking in it, by tying myself to the Galactic Alliance, I am also tied to the violence necessary to the state. My previous pacifism was a weak one, a vain attempt to keep the moral high ground over people attempting some amount of genuine good. Not only did it keep me from truly affecting anything, it also quashed any ambition, any want for power.

I’ll address the violence inherent in politics soon, but first I’d like to explore and expand on the meaning of violence. Actions harming another seems like a narrow definition, and equally opens a further discussion on what harm is. The first thing I’d like to expand violence to is the threat of violence. Threats can often be considered violent in law, despite not technically harming anyone (depends on the threat, of course). For example, the definition of terrorism – something inherently violent – includes not only the use of force but also the threat of it. Similarly, capitalism requires the threat of eviction – which certainly necessitates force – or other penalty to keep those under it in line. The state has its own violent power, and though it is not always in use, it is the threat that makes many citizens abide by the state’s laws.

I think this idea of the threat of violence can lead to the widest – and I think, most comprehensive – definition of violence: violence is the denial of choice. In the words of that great theologian, “The violent is the opposite of the voluntary”; this is hardly a revolutionary idea, but does necessitate that I place the label of violent on a trillion minor things that seem hardly violent. Parenting necessitates the denial of choice to the child. Capitalism and the state are extraordinarily violent, further than even the violence previously mentioned. Violence is the means of reducing the available actions of another – in the most literal sense, reducing their available actions to none at all by outright killing them, but violence takes many forms.

Here I would like to bring in the concept of power. Power, like violence, can take many forms, but the underlying concept that ties them together is that power is the ability to alter the range of a person’s available actions. The connection to violence is obvious – if violence is the ability to reduce the available options of a person, then violence is half of all power, the other half being the ability to expand the choice of a person.

Again we find that the state is enormously powerful, and therefore enormously violent. Politics, then, becomes the management of violence – this, the field I have become so ingrained in. Pacifism is not an option. Neither is the aversion to power, as is often touted by some Jedi.

Some violence will be necessary, though I will work towards the removal of it. I hope there will be no need for violence on the scale of war or other catastrophe in my time in the Senate. However, I think it is the other side of power that will yield the greatest good. Simply removing violence – reducing the external impediments affecting people – is not enough; I will seek to increase the choice of people.

Here is my praxis – I seek power, and through power I will push to expand the bounds of choice for all people. The details are best saved for another time, but safe to say my opposition of the corporatists in the Senate lines up excellently with my intentions of power.

The greatest power I can achieve is within reach – though I suspect being Chancellor might change some of my views. I can only hope the change is not too great.