Speak Truth to Power.
It’s an American rallying cry.
These words have come through as gospel time and again throughout our history, from the Boston Tea Party to the Civil Rights Movement. They’re even anchored in our Constitution, courtesy of the First Amendment.
We have long admired the truth-tellers, the rabble-rousers, the muckrakers. They have helped give a voice to the voiceless and keep corruption in check.
Indeed, the underdog is a particular favorite of our culture for this very reason. The ability to speak truth to power gives us hope.
Yet, this phrase carries with it an inherent irony.
For success in this case is subversive.
The ultimate goal of speaking truth to power is to evoke change.
Yet, the initiative in question is not the only thing turned on its head by this shift. So are the power dynamics.
Think about it.
Those who speak truth to power and succeed often end up toppling those on high. In doing so, they assume the figurative position of the fallen.
They fill the vacuum. They become the power.
And with that role change comes the hefty weight of responsibility.
The eyes of others remain on the ascendant truth to power speakers. But now, those eyes look with suspicion.
For within that crowd lies the next wave of truth-tellers. If an opportunity arises, they will strike swiftly and ruthlessly.
Those with power and influence will fall. The new breed will rise.
And so the cycle perpetuates, like the ebb and flow of a tide.
This might sound ruthless. Even cutthroat. But it is inevitable.
Those that take the escalator of accountability to prominence will eventually find themselves cut down. Much like our own existence, our time of influence is not unlimited.
This process cannot quite be summarized by the phrase Heavy Lies The Crown. After all, many truth-tellers are simply seeking transparency, not prestige.
No, this process is instead akin to The Principle Overrides The Person.
The system we have cultivated is bigger than any of us. It has to be.
Much like America itself — a grand experiment in constitutional democracy — the ability to speak truth to power is meant to be timeless.
The people who exercise this right with agility are mere footnotes to the greater ideal. In the grand scheme of things, they’re pawns to be used and disposed of.
I recognize this idea is controversial. Maybe even distressing.
But having cut my teeth in the ultimate truth-to-power profession — journalism — I’ve found it to be the truth.
As a young TV news producer, I prodded at the gatekeepers. I did my best to ensure the local police and sheriff’s offices were above board, civic governance bodies were transparent and major employers were not exploiting the community.
This was not a difficult task in West Texas during the midst of an oil boom. The entire community rallied around its Cash Cow product. Big city crime and corruption were hardly to be found.
Still, I took my job seriously. I kept prodding.
At first, I didn’t realize the power that I was wielding with this approach, or the weight it carried. After all, my check-ins with the movers and shakers of the region were only one part of my job, interspersed with coverage about knife fights at a local Whataburger and teenagers doing donuts in the median of the highway in stolen Jaguars.
(Yes, both of those stories really happened.)
But I soon came to understand the full weight of my responsibility.
One day, about 18 months into my tenure, I found a treasure of a story to include on the evening newscast.
Down near Big Bend, a woman had rescued a bunch of severely malnourished horses from across the Rio Grande in Mexico and nursed them back to health. She was preparing to adopt them out when I caught wind of her exploits.
Unfortunately, I had been working 14 hour shifts for much of that week, and I made an egregious typo on the news script for the story.
Instead of writing the word adoption, I put auction.
The error made it onto the 5 PM newscast. A few hours later, word got back to the woman, who called the station irate and threatened to sue.
We collectively did what we could to right the wrong. We made corrections and did our best to make amends. But the damage had been done.
Until that moment, I had been speaking truth to power. Now, I was the one being called into account. My job and my good name were on the line, because of a typo I whiffed on catching.
Ultimately, I survived. I got written up, but was able to keep my job.
Still, I will never forget that feeling where the tables turned on me. When I felt the heat of the spotlight I had so brazenly cast on others previously.
I can only imagine how the true veterans of the Truth to Power paradox feel.
People like John Lewis.
Lewis was a key figure in the Civil Rights Movement. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. might have gotten the notoriety — and rightly so — but John Lewis was right there with him.
After spending his youth fighting for and attaining civil rights, John Lewis has spent three decades fighting for the people in the U.S. House of Representatives. He has gone from speaking truth to power to becoming part of that power machine.
During his time on Capitol Hill, Lewis has served with dignity and grace. He has put the people first.
Yet, when people call out Congress as a body, they call out John Lewis. He is one of the 535 lawmakers in the Capitol. Even he, a national hero, is not immune to the Truth to Power paradox.
So, how can we improve this process? How can we make the world a better place without ending up as the villain?
I think we can start with a new perspective on power dynamics. By understanding the unique pressures those on high face, but also the boundaries they should not cross. By recognizing when to hold those above us in account and when to back off.
This perspective can make leadership desirable, instead of a fool’s errand. It can provide a forum for aspirations to flourish, while providing a needed barrier against exploitation.
This is only one potential solution. It might not be the best one. But it’s a start.
Ultimately, one thing is clear. Speaking truth to power, in itself, is not a panacea.
Let’s keep searching for better.