250 Years Later: The Beauty and Grotesqueness of Humanity & Power Systems

Today marks the 250th anniversary of this experiment we call the United States of America. I'd like to preface this post by stating that I am a patriot, but not a nationalist, and as a historian, I take the view that we need to approach the past with nuance, not idealization.

So when I look at the founding fathers, I see them as products of the patriarchy in one light, products of a racist system in another light, and also incredibly brave for their resistance when losing would mean not only forfeiting their lives but also their dignity. (Hanging is not a dignified way to shuffle off this mortal coil – it's meant to rob the person of their dignity.)

They were humans – deeply flawed ones just like all of us – in a world shaped by power structures as greedy and insidious as the ones that persist and are taking shape today.

In this way, it's easy to connect with the people who lived 250 years ago. They had much in common with us. And I don't say any of this to absolve them of atrocities like slavery, for example. Nothing can excuse that. But the system was even more corrupt than individual slave owners in that in many cases, even if they wanted to free those humans they stripped of their liberty, they could not always legally do so. The system was self-sustaining, self-protective, and damaging to all (in varying degrees of course – nothing will convince me that those enslaved persons did not suffer more than anyone else in the system, but also, I cannot help but think that mistreating someone or indeed many someones does damage to one's soul).

Yet for all this, they laid the foundation for a system that gave people hope of true equality, even if the structure of that system makes it so damn difficult to obtain, whether against racial or gender or any other prejudices.

Did the founders intend to give us such hope? I can't say. My guess is they didn't even think of it. I'm sure many of them were thinking of their own rights and their own pockets, not of the elevation of anyone who did not, at the time, qualify as white, male, and a landowner.

And so I am left with thoughts I have every single Fourth of July – that this is a country which holds beautiful promise just as it is a country which has yet to truly reconcile with the horrors of its history (and present). It is so very human, afraid to look in the mirror for fear that the reflection will honestly show what has always been there – fallibility, mortality, and the propensity to create acts of beauty and/or of such grotesqueness.

Our characters, even our antagonists, must be capable of the same. This isn't something I landed on right away. In my first published novel, the antagonist is a little bit of a mustache-twirler (not really as he doesn't have a mustache, but you know what I mean). I later tried to hint at some more dimensionality in a revision, but it's not super effective.

In later published works, my antagonists have more humanity to them. They're less "all bad." Of course, in my first published novel, The Red Fletch, I was working with a pre-established villain, but that doesn't mean I couldn't have given him some more humanity.

But it's not just characters that need to have this dimensionality. The power structures that shape our world also work best when they are not completely evil. After all, not every system is controlled by a Lex Luthor.

Take for example the Catholic Church. I was raised Catholic, and I studied the history of this particular religion extensively when I was an art history major in undergrad. Let's look specifically at the Medieval Era. I'm going to keep it fairly simplified: In the micro, some monasteries helped orphaned children and looked after the sick. In the macro, the Church prevented the populace from achieving broad literacy because an illiterate population is easier to control.

With a system of power that held power for so long in so many parts of the world, I could write whole books about it, but just in looking at that example, it's clear that the Church wasn't all bad as a power structure, but nor was it entirely virtuous as it oft claimed to be. (And, as an institution, it has also done horrific things on the micro scale and good things on the macro scale. As I said, there are so many examples – too many to include here. But I think you get what I mean.)

The power structures in our stories need to have that same multi-dimensionality in order to come across as feeling real. And, it makes subverting them as the protagonist even more fun because it's so much more layered. If you're going to subvert a system that isn't wholly bad, it creates a more interesting decision to do so than going against a structure that is universally harmful, especially if the protagonist doesn't have the support of everyone in their circle.

In my own current story, I have multiple power structures and have worked to ensure that they're not wholly bad. One is a medical power structure that uses people as means to an end but the goal of the end is noble (trolley problem, anyone?) Another is religious – and is both part of and against the mainstream Church power of the setting (1490s Florence). And then there're larger power structures at play such as the patriarchy.

While these systems definitely cause harm, and in some cases more harm than good, they're not wholly evil.

Patriarchy, for example, isn't "evil." It's just not equal. If you're someone who naturally holds power then hey, it's great, right? Matriarchy wouldn't be equal, either. For the record, I believe everyone should have equal rights and opportunities and power. But that's a utopia and unlikely to happen. I'm all for subverting the patriarchy, but if we lived in a matriarchy, I couldn't fault a man for wishing to subvert that.

In fact, I think we tend to assign more strength to a structure when we label it as evil. Evil is frightening. Evil is nearly insurmountable. Imperfect can be worked with and subverted.

But I digress.

This has not been an easy realization to sit with but I felt I owed it to all the power structures in my story to see all their facets, in part so that I can fully understand them, and in part to avoid making them all mustache-twirly.

To my fellow citizens: I hope that as you celebrate today, you'll find time to appreciate the beautiful and grotesque nature of the last 250 years in this country. I hope you won't idealize the notion of democracy as being purely the invention of the founders (I mean if you think that, I want you to look into both Ancient Athens and the Great Law of Peace among the Iroquois Confederacy). But I hope you'll also find a sense of optimism that we can keep striving to be better.

We'll never be perfect because we're human, but we can keep trying to be better. Intentional or not, the founders baked that optimism into a constitution that is meant to be amended.

I hope too that if you spend time on your story this weekend, if you write, that you'll try my free world-building game to help you understand the power structures in your story's world.

And, if you want to read a story that has loud, obvious power structures to subvert, try Daughter of the Seven Hills. If you're looking for more quiet power structures to subvert, read The Golden Apple. And, if you want a bit of that mustache-twirling antagonist energy, check out Heroes of Sherwood, which starts with The Red Fletch.