St Anselm's Senior Common Room
The Senior Common Room glowed warmly beneath the evening lamps.
Rain whispered against the windows.
Professor Quillibrace sat reading by the fire.
Miss Elowen Stray was making notes.
Mr Blottisham entered carrying three newspapers, two books, and the expression of a man who had once more arrived carrying civilisation in a satchel.
He sat confidently.
Placed the books upon the table.
Folded his hands.
And announced:
"I've solved power."
Quillibrace lowered his book.
Miss Stray closed her notebook very gently.
Neither spoke.
Blottisham continued.
"The matter is perfectly straightforward."
Silence.
"Some people possess power."
No response.
"They use it."
Still silence.
"Others do not possess it."
Quillibrace stared at him.
Blottisham sat back triumphantly.
"There."
After several moments Quillibrace spoke.
"Blottisham."
"Yes?"
"Have you ever possessed weather?"
Blottisham blinked.
"What?"
"Weather."
"No."
"Gravity?"
"No."
"Language?"
"No."
Blottisham frowned.
"What sort of examples are these?"
Quillibrace folded his hands.
"Things one participates within without possessing."
Blottisham looked uneasy.
"But power belongs to people."
"Does it?"
"Of course."
Quillibrace raised an eyebrow.
"A king possesses power."
"Yes."
"A government possesses power."
"Yes."
"A wealthy corporation possesses power."
"Obviously."
Quillibrace nodded slowly.
"And if tomorrow everyone ceased recognising the king?"
Blottisham paused.
"...that would be awkward."
"If institutions ceased functioning?"
"...rather awkward."
"If legal systems vanished?"
"...extremely awkward."
"If language itself ceased coordinating expectations?"
Blottisham stared.
"Oh no."
Miss Stray looked thoughtful.
"So perhaps power isn't sitting inside individuals."
Quillibrace nodded.
"It may instead depend upon larger relational structures."
Blottisham frowned.
"But people still do things."
"Certainly."
"And they can influence others."
"Quite."
"Then isn't power influence?"
Quillibrace smiled faintly.
"No."
"No?"
"No."
Blottisham looked wounded.
Quillibrace rose slowly and walked toward the windows.
"Influence already presupposes something."
Blottisham frowned.
"What?"
"A structured world."
Silence.
"A field of intelligible actions."
"Mhm."
"Shared expectations."
"Right."
"Categories."
"Fine."
"Norms."
"Fine."
"Recognisable possibilities."
Blottisham looked increasingly alarmed.
"Oh dear."
Miss Stray leaned forward.
"So before anyone can persuade or coerce someone..."
Quillibrace nodded.
"...there already has to exist a world within which persuasion or coercion make sense."
"Precisely."
Blottisham stared.
"So power operates before influence."
"Exactly."
The fire shifted softly.
Rain tapped at the windows.
Blottisham looked into the middle distance.
"What exactly is being organised?"
Quillibrace sat again.
"Constraints."
"No."
"No?"
"No more words."
"I'm afraid words remain unavoidable."
Blottisham slumped slightly.
Quillibrace adjusted his spectacles.
"A constraint is not merely a restriction."
Blottisham looked suspicious.
"It's a limitation on what becomes actualisable within a relational field."
Blottisham stared blankly.
"Examples."
"What actions make sense."
"Mhm."
"What identities are coherent."
"Right."
"What interpretations become legitimate."
"Fine."
"What patterns of coordination remain stable."
Blottisham nodded slowly.
"And worlds require these?"
"Entirely."
Miss Stray looked down at her notes.
"So without constraints..."
Quillibrace nodded.
"...nothing becomes organised enough to sustain worldhood."
"Precisely."
Blottisham frowned.
"So constraints don't merely stop things."
"No."
"They make things possible."
"Exactly."
Silence.
Then:
"Oh this is becoming deeply suspicious."
Several moments passed.
Blottisham spoke carefully.
"So power isn't force imposed on people."
"No."
"Or something stored in institutions."
"No."
"Or some substance distributed across society."
"No."
He frowned.
"It's more like..."
Quillibrace watched him quietly.
"...capacity to reorganise the structure of what becomes possible."
Silence.
Miss Stray slowly looked up.
Quillibrace remained motionless.
The room became very quiet.
Blottisham looked unsettled.
"So power changes worlds by changing the constraints through which worlds operate."
No one spoke.
"And institutions..."
He looked around.
"...don't hold power."
Silence.
"They continuously stabilise particular constraint arrangements."
Still silence.
Blottisham looked toward the fire.
After a long pause:
"So perhaps this explains something."
Quillibrace looked cautious.
"Go on."
"When things become very stable..."
"Mhm."
"...power disappears."
Silence.
"I mean..."
He searched for words.
"...people stop seeing it."
No response.
"Things just seem normal."
Miss Stray nodded softly.
"Reality itself begins appearing self-evident."
Blottisham looked at her.
"Yes."
He looked back into the fire.
"So successful power no longer appears as power."
The room went still.
Long silence.
Then Blottisham frowned.
"So the strange thing is..."
No one interrupted.
"...people keep asking who has power."
Silence.
"But perhaps the more disturbing question is..."
He looked up.
"...what structures are organising what becomes possible at all?"
Complete silence.
Quillibrace slowly removed his spectacles.
"Elowen."
"Yes?"
"...he appears to be modulating."
Miss Stray smiled faintly.
"A dangerous development."
End of discussion