We are accustomed to thinking of political power as a binary: you either have it or you don’t. But in his 1945 masterpiece On Power, Bertrand de Jouvenel imagined it as an organism. Power is like a creature in a nature documentary, adapting, sensing opportunity, and slipping into the cracks. And it grows not because tyrants seize it but because people invite it. “Power is continually being summoned by the weak to save them from the strong who are close at hand,” de Jouvenel wrote. It expands not through violence but through promises. If one has heard the phrase “high-low vs. the middle,” this is how power operates. A higher power uses the low, whether for bodies, justifications, or clients, to attack the middle.
Here is where de Jouvenel’s argument becomes truly interesting. Power does not grow randomly: it grows toward legitimacy, toward righteousness, toward whatever moral vocabulary the age supplies. In medieval France, that vocabulary was justice. In the 20th century, it was security. But in the 21st century, the moral vocabulary of legitimacy is something different. Today’s most potent political ideal is anti-majoritarianism.
