True Power

and the Illusion of Control

Photo by Ryunosuke Kikuno on Unsplash

Where There is Authority, Compulsion is Superfluous

I came across a profound statement recently, attributed to the anonymous author of Meditations on the Tarot: “Where there is authority, compulsion is superfluous.” Think about that for a moment. We often imagine power as the ability to force an outcome. But this quote flips the script: if you have true authority—if your presence and conviction are genuine—you shouldn’t need to resort to force at all.

Why would compulsion be “superfluous”? Because a person with real power emanates a sort of calm certainty that renders coercion unnecessary. Their strength is self-evident, communicated not through threats or violence but through unwavering clarity and confidence. Everyone around them knows it, whether or not they agree with that person’s viewpoint. There’s no need for intimidation because the person’s authority speaks for itself.

The False Sense of Control

Contrast that with what often passes for power in our world: intimidation, bullying, threats. Whether we’re talking about politicians barking orders or a tyrannical boss yelling at their team, these behaviors usually mask a deep insecurity. They’re the telltale signs of someone whose internal sense of self is shaky, who needs to exert control over people and circumstances to reassure themselves they’re “strong.”

In truth, the more force you have to use, the less real power you possess. Real power has nothing to prove. It can handle chaos and uncertainty without tightening its grip out of fear. It doesn’t need to degrade others to feel tall. It doesn’t demand obedience or tribute.

“I Could Run You Through Without Blinking”

Ram Dass famously shared a story from feudal Japan that captures this contrast perfectly:

During the civil wars, an invading army swept into a town and took control. In one particular village, everyone fled—except the Zen monk. The general, surprised and annoyed at the monk’s indifference, marched over to the temple. He expected fear and submission; he got neither.

Enraged, the general drew his sword. “You fool,” he shouted, “don’t you realize you’re standing before a man who could run you through without blinking an eye?”

Completely unruffled, the monk met his gaze. “And do you realize,” he replied calmly, “that you are standing before a man who can be run through without blinking an eye?”

The general’s power is external—the threat of force, the authority of position, the capacity to kill. The monk’s power is internal—absolute presence, fearlessness, and a willingness to face death without submission or distress. Only one of them is truly free, and it’s not the man holding the sword.

Emotionally Stunted “Little Boys”

Look around the current political landscape, or even certain corners of the corporate world, and you’ll see plenty of individuals who mistake performative dominance for genuine authority. They strut, they posture, they shout. But peel back the layers and you’ll often find deeply insecure individuals who have never outgrown the need to prove they are “important.” They cling to violence (or its psychological equivalents—public humiliation, media smear campaigns) because they lack that quiet sense of inner mastery.

True power, on the other hand, is grounded. It is the calm in the storm, the voice that can say “no” without rancor, or “yes” without needing applause. It’s also the space to accept uncertainty—to realize you can’t always control outcomes, but you can control your own response. That is real mastery: to navigate chaos without being swallowed by it.

Choosing Authentic Power

So how do we cultivate this kind of authentic personal power in our own lives? We can start by examining the ways we exert influence:

1. Do we use threats—overt or subtle—to get our way?

2. Do we constantly need proof of our importance—through promotions, titles, public praise?

3. Are we rattled by chaos or opposition, instantly lashing out to regain a sense of control?

Each time we notice these behaviors, we have an opportunity to pause and shift our approach. True power emerges when we’re confident enough in ourselves that we no longer need to force outcomes. We trust that our stance, our presence, is solid—whether or not others fall in line.

Standing Before the Sword

Like the Zen monk in Ram Dass’s story, we can learn to stand in our truth, unafraid of what happens next. That doesn’t mean being passive or letting injustice run rampant. It means we wield our influence from a place of inner authority rather than outer aggression. We act with wisdom and clarity, not from a frantic need to prove anything.

In a world filled with bluster and posturing, let’s not be fooled by the hollow spectacle of force and coercion. Real power is humble, unassuming, and yet utterly unshakeable. As the author of Meditations on the Tarot reminds us: where there is true authority, compulsion simply isn’t necessary.

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Thanks for Reading

• Have you ever encountered someone whose power was palpable, yet never imposed?

• How do you navigate the line between healthy authority and aggressive control?

Share your thoughts in the comments, or pass this along to someone who might appreciate a fresh perspective on what it really means to be powerful.