An inquiry into the compatibility between potency and power
In Nietzsche we find the idea that the domination (1) of others may arise as a by-product of someone’s expression of potency (2), but that this domination of others is fundamentally never the aim pursued by one whose need and purpose is to express their potency. I would like to go further—even in the opposite direction (3): might the full expression of potency be outright incompatible with the exercise of power, i.e., with the exercise of controlled domination (4) over others (5)? The issue at stake is obviously the control (or even the exercise) of domination, for the preceding question is no longer relevant if we omit the “control” (or even “exercise”) aspect of that domination. We know that, in this case, the answer to the question is “no”, since we saw above that mere domination could indeed arise as a by-product of the expression of potency (6).
Conditions under which potency and power are incompatible
The relevance of our question lies in the fact that what causes the expression of potency is in all likelihood never any desire to control anything or anyone, but the subject’s need to externalize or expel potency. The cause of the expression of potency—this need—is a vital force pressing within the subject (7), from the inside of the organism toward the outside. It does so repeatedly and intermittently, and therefore pulses (what I call “chakratic pulsation”), for as long as the subject blocks the externalization of this force. Thus, any potential control (8) associated with the expression of this potency is entirely subordinate to the compelling need to expel that potency, which, without a regulatory mechanism within the organism (here we are speaking of the self-control dimension), is generally expelled in a manner that is, at the very least, sudden and abrupt, if not brutal, violent, sometimes disorderly and chaotic—in short, exclusively Dionysian.
This subordination of control to the compelling need to expel potency—in other words, the inessential, almost fallacious character of control, as a vestige of the need not to be perceived as mad and expelled from the social body—is perceptible to those who witness the full expulsion of potency. The person expressing their potency in this way is therefore immediately perceived as fundamentally incapable of genuine control, whether over themselves or, consequently, over others. Since control is instrumentalized for the purpose of expressing potency, it is in no way honored for its virtues in creating stability, managing the social body, or preserving peace within a society; control is never an end in itself. As you will have understood, by “genuine control” above I meant “healthy” control—that is, control experienced as essentially positive by the person being controlled.
We have thus shown the extent to which a subject’s full expression of potency is incompatible with that subject’s exercise of power, at least healthy power, because the people perceive that the subject’s aim and concern is not to exercise healthy power.
Preliminary conclusion on situations in which potency and power are incompatible
Anyone aspiring to the most authentic, perhaps even brilliant or grandiose, expression of potency must therefore accept the loss of social and political power this will entail. Conversely, anyone who aspires to power must renounce the fullest expression of their potency. This holds whether that power is healthy or not, although it is even more true in the case of healthy power, which must, in short, inspire the people’s love. Indeed, even if power is unhealthy and must therefore inspire fear, to inspire fear one must always demonstrate control over one’s capacity to cause harm and thus over oneself, as well as control over those subjected to that capacity for harm. Yet this is less crucial than in the case of healthy power, because one need not show that one controls the evil—the suffering—inflicted upon the person being controlled, whereas in the case of unhealthy power this is one more proof that must be furnished.
How to reconcile potency and power in order to exercise healthy political power
The question now is under what condition it might nevertheless be possible to reach a kind of equilibrium: (i) from a first perspective, to express a potency capable—essentially despite itself, in the sense that this is still not its primary aim—of exercising a certain power (preferably healthy); and (ii), from a second perspective, to exercise a power (preferably healthy) that is the product of the expression of vital potency rather than of impotence, of a frightened weakness doing everything it can not to relinquish what little power it has left. Therein lies the whole issue.
Could this condition be a form of perfect equilibrium between the Dionysian and the Apollonian? This is what Nietzsche suggests for what he considers the highest art forms, at least in the case of pre-Euripidean Attic tragedy. But our present subject is politics, not art. Does the condition remain the same in politics? Our answer is potentially yes, provided that we invoke the political facets of Apollo—he certainly has some, such as achieving objectives—and of Dionysus—he has them as well, though doubtless far fewer, and perhaps therein lies the difficulty: at the very least, he represents the release of vital energy and the associated positive transformation of the person, a way of finding solutions (so there can indeed be a political perspective here) through trance, or at least through the unbridled discharge of potency.
To go further, we propose the following, somewhat simplistic associations, which may nevertheless serve as a starting point. Apollo would be the working day of humankind, which is in some sense a political, or at least social, element; Dionysus would be decompression, release, and the after-work celebration, at home or in a tavern, for example. These too are political, or at least once again social, elements—since the after-work gathering is, very precisely, a preeminent moment of socialization.
Dionysus is less political insofar as politics lies essentially on the side of control (Apollo). That said, Dionysus may correspond to an important aspect of the radical political left: a space for life lived to the full outside work, not subordinated to the possibility of continuing to work—in other words, a space for the transformation of individuals and for potential change in the social, or at least professional, order (9). A right-wing Dionysus can only be a Dionysus instrumentalized by an authority seeking to maintain control over individuals. An extreme case might perhaps be a Fascist Dopolavoro that offered, for example, the appearance of utter debauchery. One might also think of post-work decompression, particularly “English-style” (binge drinking) or “Japanese-style”. This is clearly not a free, and therefore left-wing, Dionysus; on the contrary, it is perfectly compatible with a highly authoritarian and work-obsessed system. This instrumentalized Dionysus is the very condition that makes it possible to resume harsh and intense work the next day (in the negative sense: work that is, fundamentally, imposed by a superior in the hierarchy).
In conclusion, in order to achieve healthy political power that truly expresses vital potency and is concerned for the people, we suggest replacing Dionysus with Aphrodite (see note (9)) in the power–potency pairing, which would then become an Apollo–Aphrodite pair. Aphrodite incorporates care for the other without diminishing the expression of potency or obstructing the ecstasy of experiencing the expression of creative potency. Moreover, Aphrodite suggests that this ecstasy depends essentially and crucially upon a deep, caring emotional connection with another (which is far less true, if not false, in the case of Dionysus), thereby ensuring an empathic fabric, particularly between governor and governed. To go further, Apollo should doubtless also be replaced with Zeus, who cares far more about the members of his society than Apollo does, although in our view he does so with little empathy—but the presence of Aphrodite should compensate for this.
Note to the reader:
The “maternity” of a number of ideas in the fourth part of this text belongs to Alba Maria Tortosa Benito.
Notes to the text:
(1) Throughout this text, the term “domination” will not be considered equivalent to the term “power” (which, incidentally, will be used to refer to “political power”). “Domination” should be understood here as a form of “vital domination”, in the same way that, in an accidental collision, a truck will dominate a car: the car will sustain far more damage than the truck, without the truck having “intended” it. A better example would be to take two animals, one very large and the other very small, whose respective vital potencies are proportional to their respective volumes or weights. In such a case, the larger animal will vitally dominate the smaller one; for example, if they accidentally collide, the smaller animal will sustain more damage. Throughout the text, we propose the following equivalence: (vital) domination is a kind of passive (political) power—the passivity (with respect to power) at issue here, and the one that matters, is essentially the dominator’s. Similarly, we propose treating “power” and “active/controlled domination” as equivalent.
(2) Throughout this text, the term “potency” will be used to refer to “vital potency”.
(3) I say “in the opposite direction” for the following reason. Imagine the real-number axis R. Map the set of strictly positive real numbers, R_+ (and, respectively, the strictly negative real numbers, R_-), onto the concept of potency (and, respectively, power). These two sets are disjoint because the number “zero”, which permits a continuous junction between the two sets, nevertheless belongs to neither. Now consider the interval ]0,a), that is, with an open lower endpoint of “0” and an upper endpoint consisting of an arbitrary real number “a”, open or closed—it does not matter—and map this interval onto the notion of domination (i.e., passive power). My gesture of “going further” now corresponds to making “a” tend toward “0”, while the “opposite direction” of which I speak corresponds to moving “a” into the strictly negative real numbers, such that henceforth belonging to the interval (a,0[ (which lies within the set “power”) necessarily entails that one cannot belong to the set “potency”, thereby illustrating the incompatibility I am proposing. In particular, one must keep in mind here the equivalence between classical set theory and classical logic.
(4) In this work, (political) power will be considered equivalent to the notion of “active domination”.
(5) Deleuze makes a similar suggestion in his Abécédaire; here is a link to the relevant passage:
(6) In fact, to go further, one might even propose the following idea. An expression of potency in the presence of an absence of expressed potency always results in the person who does not express their potency being passively (vitally) dominated (here again, it is the dominator’s passivity that is at issue; see note (1)). Quite simply, that person is forced to “take” or undergo the other’s potency—that is, at a minimum, forced to assess whether their sensory perception of the other’s potency constitutes information that deserves to be “heeded” or not, and that may need to be rejected or welcomed. In the latter case, however, the dominated person had not asked for anything beforehand, despite ultimately welcoming it. Lastly, insofar as there may be passivity on the part of the dominated person in this matter, it consists in sometimes remaining passive (in the sense of not expressing potency) because they do not recognize in the situation a form of domination over them—one that constrains their action by demanding a minimal effort to manage the other’s potency. In this line of thought, a person subjected to active/controlled domination is potentially far more active in how they endure it—perhaps blocking blows, or even rebelling if possible—because they know they are the object of such controlled/active domination. We have thus sought to show how the passivity (or, respectively, activity) of the dominator may lead to the same passivity (or, respectively, activity) in the dominated.
(7) Whether the subject is aware of it or not is a delicate question. For Nietzsche, a large part of it is unconscious: “it is in the nature of the strong to express their strength; it is not they who decide, for doing so lies in their nature”—this is a reformulation of Nietzsche’s ideas on the subject, not an exact quotation.
(8) At a minimum, this involves self-control; within the present political perspective, we have in mind the impulse toward controlling others that may be present within self-control.
(9) Regarding the potential change in the social order brought about by Dionysian trance, I would direct the reader to Byung-Chul Han’s essay The Agony of Eros, with a preface by Alain Badiou. In my view, the essay’s most important idea is the following: for the subject of the achievement society, or burnout society, the genuine experience of love is lived as nothing less than a catastrophe, disrupting a whole life guided by the fulfillment of objectives. Love, however, is Aphrodite; and Aphrodite shares with Dionysus—as psychiatrist Jean Shinoda Bolen develops at length in her books Goddesses in Everywoman and Gods in Everyman—an alchemical and even unpredictable aspect, capable of causing potentially critical transformations. That said, it should be emphasized that in Dionysus these alchemical aspects are not connected to love, but at most to ecstatic sex or an equally ecstatic emotional connection. The aspect of “caring” for the other—the space of intimacy and vulnerability present with Aphrodite—is essentially absent from Dionysus. Dionysus only plays, whereas through her play Aphrodite desires a connection at a deeply intimate level and one grounded fundamentally in respect for the other. This means that Aphrodite never intended any of the harm that may befall, through the absence of love, the person who united with her. Quite the opposite: Aphrodite does not understand how one who united with her could fail to experience it as something good—since it is an experience of profound union—merely because this good in no way entails a romantic commitment. One can care for the other and for their vulnerability in the present moment without making any commitment for the future; the two are not incompatible. This is what must be understood about Aphrodite, particularly if we are not to confuse her with—or mistake her for—a mere female version of Dionysus.