Hello Interactors,

Since his return to office, Trump hasn’t just taken power — he’s trying to reshape the landscape. From border crackdowns and sick real estate fantasies to federal purges by strongman stooges, his policies don’t just enforce control — they seek to redraw the lines of democracy itself.

Strongmen don’t wait for crises — they create them. They attempt to manipulate institutions, geographies, and public trust until there’s so much confusion it makes anything they do to ease it acceptable. I dug into how authoritarianism thrives on instability and contemplate some ways to alter it.

DEMAND DOMINATION THROUGH DOUBT AND DISORDER

I was once a strongman, or at least I could summon one when needed. I could override the part of my brain that protects me from injury and tap into something primal — something that made me feel invincible. A surge of adrenaline convinced my brain I could not only hurl myself into another person but through them, painlessly.

I played rugby. What I experienced is known as Berserker State, or berserkergang—a shift in brain activity and hormone surges that cause extreme arousal and altered perception. Rugby is a sport where people spend over an hour pretending they’re not hurt. That’s in contrast to soccer, where people spend over an hour pretending they are. 😬 But while rugby is violent, it’s not played with violent intent. Players may be tough, but they don’t seek to hurt each other — at least, not permanently.

That’s in stark contrast to figures like Trump or the new FBI deputy director, Dan Bongino — men who cultivate a different kind of "strongman" identity. They like to wield aggression not as a tool for sport, but as a weapon against others. Bongino is a tough guy on steroids — literally, or at least he acts like it. His wide-eyed rage on his online show suggests a performance of strength, a constant need to assert dominance.

But people like Trump and Bongino weren’t born this way; they were molded by insecurity, myths, and a long history of toxic masculinity.

Psychologist Brian Lowery challenges the idea that identity is something stable and fixed. Instead, in his 2023 book, Selfless, he argues that identity is socially constructed—shaped by interactions, cultural narratives, and institutions. In times of stability, people feel secure in who they are. But when faced with economic instability, cultural shifts, or political crises, identity becomes fragile and unstable. Some people lash out. Some, like myself on the rugby field, may go berserk. Others — like Trump and Bongino — build their entire personas around control. In the end, it’s just bluster, bravado, because they behave like a jerk.

Sociologist Zygmunt Bauman takes this argument further, showing how growing inequality and precarity drive people toward authoritarianism and fundamentalism. When the world feels chaotic, strongman leaders and rigid ideologies provide the comforting illusion of order and control — even if they fail to address the root problems. Bauman warns that these leaders scapegoat the vulnerable, suppress truth, and mystify the real causes of inequality — all while presenting themselves as the only force capable of restoring stability.

But authoritarianism isn’t just about psychology — it’s also shaped by real-world conditions. Geographer Ruth Wilson Gilmore argues that authoritarian rule isn’t just about individual strongmen — it’s embedded in systems that use violence and spatial control to uphold racial and class hierarchies. Identity insecurity isn’t just a feeling; it’s a reaction to real structural forces like economic displacement, aggressive policing, and militarized borders. Strongman leaders don’t just exploit insecurity — they thrive where instability is built into everyday life.

In 2020 Journalist Shane Burley examined how white nationalist groups tap into these anxieties, embedding themselves in mainstream politics by offering disaffected individuals a sense of belonging through authoritarian ideologies. The Alt-Right doesn’t just recruit based on political beliefs — it recruits based on a fear of displacement and loss. Authoritarianism isn’t just ideological; it emerges from instability, reinforced by systems of control like aggressive policing and restrictive immigration policies.

Strongmen don’t just seize on fear — they stoke, sculpt, and steer it, spinning crises into control. Through media manipulation and crisis narratives, they mold public perception and then mandate obedience.

SPINNING STRIFE INTO SUPREMACY

Once fear is felt — it can be harnessed. Political elites capitalize on uncertainty, framing crises in ways that make authoritarian measures seem necessary. Feldman & Stenner, political psychologists specializing in the study of authoritarianism and ideological behavior, argue that authoritarian attitudes intensify when people perceive instability, whether real or exaggerated.

Their research highlights how threat perception — not just personal ideology — activates authoritarian tendencies, leading individuals to prioritize conformity, obedience, and strong leadership in times of social or political uncertainty. By defining threats and controlling the narrative, leaders turn uncertainty into urgency, making repression feel not only justified but necessary.

Crisis narratives work because they reshape reality. Right-wing populists blame immigrants, global elites, and cultural change, painting national identity as under siege. Meanwhile, progressive authoritarian movements often frame reactionary forces, corporate elites, and slow-moving institutions as existential threats, demanding immediate, drastic action.

Mikhail Bakunin, a 19th-century anarchist and revolutionary who was both a friend and fierce critic of Karl Marx, warned that revolutionary leaders who claim to act in the people’s name often end up seeking power for themselves. He accused Marx and Engels of designing a system where they, not the workers, would ultimately rule. In 1873 he wrote,

“The Marxists maintain that only a dictatorship—their dictatorship, of course—can create the will of the people, while our answer to them is: No dictatorship can have any other aim but to perpetuate itself.”

Both right and left-wing authoritarianism use fear to rally supporters, silence opposition, and create a sense of emergency where only their leadership can restore order.

Media control plays a key role in reinforcing these crisis narratives. In 2019, it was exposed how Trump advisor Stephen Miller deliberately inserted white nationalist rhetoric into U.S. policy. He used far-right media to amplify unverified crime statistics and frame immigration as a civilizational threat. This wasn’t just ideological posturing — it was a calculated effort to embed fear into governance, making xenophobia a political weapon.

But crisis narratives don’t just shape perception; they translate into policy. ICE raids and the Muslim ban turned entire communities into symbols of danger, reinforcing the idea that certain groups are inherent threats. Militarized borders, aggressive policing, and detention centers didn’t just enforce laws — they reinforced the notion that outsiders must be feared. The state stands as fear’s fierce enforcer, embedding oppression in order and power in place.

This dual strategy — controlling the narrative and enforcing it through space — creates a self-reinforcing cycle. When people see more policing in "dangerous" areas, they assume the danger was real all along. When borders become militarized, they don’t just frame outsiders as threats — they enforce state power over Indigenous lands.

The U.S. foundation stands on the reservation system, the suppression of the American Indian Movement, and the crackdown on Standing Rock from 1890 to 2016. This is how authoritarianism isn’t just imposed — it’s sustained. Fear becomes a governing principle, and governance becomes a system of control. Crises are never solved — only maligned, magnified, or momentarily managed.

BREAKING THE CYCLE OF CRISIS AND CONTROL

Authoritarianism feeds on instability. It thrives in moments of crisis, when people feel insecure about their place in society, fearful of rapid change, and unsure of who to trust. As historian Alexandra Minna Stern shows in Proud Boys and the White Ethnostate, far-right groups have mainstreamed authoritarian rhetoric, repackaging extremism as populist conservatism and framing strongman rule as the only defense against societal collapse. But authoritarianism is not confined to one ideology. Different movements, across the political spectrum, use crisis narratives to justify coercion.

Some frame threats as coming from the outside, while others see danger emerging from within. But the burden of these crisis narratives is not evenly distributed — the historically marginalized powerless pay the price when panic fuels policy.

* Nationalist movements depict outsiders — immigrants, racial minorities, queer communities, and religious groups — as existential threats. Border militarization, mass surveillance, and authoritarian crackdowns are justified as necessary to preserve “national security” and maintain cultural homogeneity. These policies disproportionately harm those already marginalized. They deepen structural inequalities through exclusion, criminalization, and violence.

* Radical movements on the left often focus on reactionary forces — corporations, conservative institutions, or privileged elites — as dangers to progress. While calls for justice are vital, ideological purity tests and coercion can sometimes alienate marginalized activists. People of color, queer individuals, and various other members the poor working class are forced to navigate rigid expectations