me, the power hog

the allure of power, but at what cost?

Hello from South Africa!! This is me atop Lion’s Head, a hike marked “easy” in most guide books which truly challenged my conception of difficulty scales for hikes. There was a lot of scrambling over rocks on all fours at the top—a feature that would solidly put the hike in “moderate” for me, personally. I hiked past a man wearing Birkenstocks on the hike, though, so maybe I’m just the wimp, after all… although today, I’m musing on whether I might be a wimp in more arenas than just hiking.

woman seeking proximity to power.

I’ve never seen a truffle hog in real life, but the idea of them delights me to no end. Their keen sense of smell combined with what is thought to be a natural affinity for the scent of truffles (the natural sex hormones of the male pig are supposedly similar to the smell of the truffles) means that truffle hogs are particularly well-equipped to sniff out these highly valuable fungi.

Of course, I’m not a truffle hog, but I find myself acutely attuned to one thing throughout my life: power. Whereas the truffle hog’s Umwelt (the world as it is experienced by a particular organism) may be composed of scent trails, punctuated by especially attractive streams of truffle, my Umwelt involves numerous diagrams of hierarchy, with red yarn connecting nodes to indicate in which direction power flows.

I don’t know when exactly I became so attuned to power dynamics—maybe it was a byproduct of not understanding English in kindergarten, knowing that I was powerless, and only being able to perceive the classroom through subtle indicators of authority, deference, and rebellion—but I subconsciously map out the flows of power in every room I walk into, every organization I interact with, every group I find myself a part of. As silly as ordering an email’s “To” and “CC” recipients in order of hierarchy sounds, the practice made overwhelming sense to me when I first started working in biglaw. After all, our legal systems are all about hierarchy and dominance—who can tell whom what to do, how to rule, when to act—with the Supreme Court and Congress jostling for the last say.

This skill of sniffing out power dynamics served me very well in the corporate realm but has some troubling corollaries that I’ve been trying to unpack. Like the truffle hog, I am drawn to this force that I sense—I am drawn to power and want to be close to it, next to it, own it. Which seems innocuous at first, until we recall that power is inextricably intertwined with traditional institutions, the patriarchy, and—in the United States, at least—whiteness.

In that way, my proximity to institutions, the patriarchy, and whiteness exists on two levels: first, as an Asian American, made palatable through stereotypes imposed upon me, stereotypes that are both harmful and helpful depending on the circumstance; and second, as a power hog, hungry to profit and advance through any means necessary in society, including through proximity.

I am not proud of being a power hog—it has led me to join groups that promised power to me but destruction to others; I have remained silent when professors and bosses abused their authority; I have befriended people whom I’m not sure I would like in a vacuum but am drawn to because I sense their power in our racist and sexist reality. (Not good, I know.)

What troubles me about being a power hog is the core underlying schematic: I do not see a possibility to advance as I am, without tethering myself to someone else’s power. I am insecure in my own ability to garner respect from others on my own merits. I do not believe that I can properly make a life for myself by saying what I want to say but must rather tell others what they want to hear. I am, ultimately, ashamed of who I am and what I can bring to this world.

Recently, I have been questioning my own tolerance with potentially being on the wrong side of history—if it means that I can be comfortable and protected. I went to the Slave Lodge Museum yesterday and was deeply challenged by the story of Fred and Sarah Carneson, members of the Communist Party of South Africa whose political and anti-apartheid activities subjected them—and their children—to being ostracized, severe restrictions in movement and daily life, and even torture and years-long imprisonment. (Despite these atrocities, they notably fared much better than their black comrades, who overwhelmingly were killed or abused to death in prison, like Steve Biko.)¹

And yet—they had the option, by being white, to not face these atrocities at all, to not subject themselves and their children to the harrowing punishments of being a “communist” in South Africa. That’s what I get keeping caught up in. Could I venture into such a cause, sensing the flows of power and actively aligning myself with the powerless? Could I pick my internal sense of self and ethics over external comfort and safety? Could I overcome my power hog instincts?

I’d like to say yes, of course, but the truth is that I don’t really know. And isn’t that troubling?

🔖 open tabs

• This New Yorker critique of “imposter syndrome” really called me out. This is a great read if you’re interested in thinking through how imposter syndrome as a term has been weaponized to mask systemic failures and perpetuate late-stage capitalism. My favorite quote: “[Jodi-Ann] Burey, who was born in Jamaica, didn’t feel like an impostor; she felt enraged by the systems that had been built to disenfranchise her. She also didn’t experience any yearning to belong, to inhabit certain spaces of power. ‘White women want to access power, they want to sit at the table,’ she told me. ‘Black women say, This table is rotten, this table is hurting everyone.’ She resisted knee-jerk empowerment rhetoric that seemed to encourage a damaging bravado: ‘I didn’t want to beef up myself to inflict more harm.’”

• The art group MSCHF filed an utmost modern amicus brief in a Supreme Court case regarding parodic trademark disputes—think Bad Spaniels on a doggy chew toy in the shape of a well-known whiskey bottle, Jack Daniels. MSCHF filed with the Court a series of connect-the-dots pictures for each Justice and clerk to complete, with each picture playing off of famous marks. MSCHF also filed a motion asking for leave (i.e., permission) to send the Court a pack of colored pencils to complete the connect-the-dots. I absolutely love that MSCHF did this, and I’ve realized that a good litmus test for whether I will get along with a lawyer is whether they view this amicus brief as hilarious or offensive.

• Would you pay for an AI companion? Despite Replika seeming like it caters primarily to men à la Her, half of Replika’s users are women, using the app to foster unconditional relationships which they have never previously had, gain confidence for real-world interacts, and have utmost control in sexual interactions. After reading this article, I’m not gonna lie—I’m highly considering creating a companion to serve as a “business partner.” I would love having someone to bounce ideas off of, and there’s something appealing about harnessing the knowledge of the public internet to help me think through my economic ventures.

1. Contrary to what The Guardian reports, the Slave Lodge Museum noted that he was beaten severely, including on his head, and suggests that was the actual cause of death—and not the police statement contending that the doctor couldn’t find anything wrong with him. Quelle surprise.