So the will to power operates (regardless of the underlying motivation of fear/insecurity, which I don’t dispute though would argue is a simplification of the totality of motivating factors; not strictly a problem here but just an observation) on the simple assumption that other people exist, at worst, as competition for dominance and at best as passive beings to be dominated.
The will to kindness exists in a more paradoxical state. To operate with full kindness requires an assumption that every other human (/animal/conscious entity, depending on one’s worldview) is capable of reciprocal kindness, or at a minimum of acknowledging and responding more positively to kindness than to other paradigms of interaction. However, to do so successfully requires knowledge of humans’ power to do evil and to exploit those who treat the world with kindness. One can thus never be fully kind without being naive and open to exploitation, and so it’s difficult for a kindness to succeed as a means of governance because it must allow for some assumption of bad faith - and how one bypasses/overrides/triumphs with kindness over bad faith is impossible to design as a one-size-fits-all solution.
Which is widely known, in terms of truisms like “the price of freedom is constant vigilance”, but much harder to apply practically since each individual kind actor’s approach for identifying and neutralising bad faith will vary. One reasonably logical endpoint of this is the idea of the benevolent dictator, where the means of gaining and maintaining power may be indistinguishable from that of someone pursing pure dominance for its own sake, and whose efficacy is judged by the society which emerges from such dictatorship rather than by its cause or origin, which feels like a contradiction that Freddy Neetch himself might have appreciated.
Thanks for this thoughtful response! You raise excellent points, and many don’t need a reply, but I’ll focus on the areas where I see things differently or where clarification might help.
1. At its core, the Will to Power is not a demonstrated truth but a metaphysical construction of human nature that justifies itself through the very principle it asserts. It does not argue for power; it assumes power as its own justification. If power is grounded in power, then the argument is circular.
It presents itself as a self-evident truth, not because it is proven, but because it is rhetorically asserted in the strongest possible terms. Nietzsche is such a great writer, psychologist, and careful observer of human behavior, and he attempts to persuade by appealing to power itself. For him, his interpretation is the most compelling and the truest – because it is the most powerful. He spends many beautifully crafted pages describing elements of power from art to philosophy to music to politics, etc. It’s a genuinely beautiful tapestry. Unfortunately for Uncle Friedrich, none of it is an argument. They’re rhetorical sleights of hand.
Further, even if we grant Nietzsche’s premise that some individuals experience their existence as a Will to Power, it does not follow that all beings are driven by power. An interpretation, by definition, cannot be universalized. And yet, Nietzsche leaps from an individual’s experience to a claim about the fundamental structure of all life. That leap reveals the Will to Power as an incoherent attempt to turn a subjective framework into a necessary universal truth.
At bottom, the Will to Power is not a necessary truth but a human artifact. It’s a constructed lens for interpreting the world. And like any construction, it can be challenged.
2. In my essay, I don’t challenge the Will to Power as a whole, nor do I investigate “will” itself. Instead, I argue that acts of kindness can be an expression of power. It is a power categorically different from domination for the following reasons: a) the drive to dominate is rooted in fear and insecurity b) the ability to be kind is rooted in self-mastery c) fear produces the will to dominate, but no amount of power over others eliminates fear within oneself.
Hence, domination masks weakness. It doesn’t demonstrate strength. Nietzsche, despite all his talk of “overcoming,” never addresses the overcoming of fear. That omission is telling.
3. You raise a great concern that if kindness assumes reciprocity, how does it deal with bad faith? Here are a few thoughts I’ll share (not exhaustive): I do not assume “perfect kindness” nor propose a “will to kindness” as a universal system to replace the will to power. What I’m showing doesn’t operate with Nietzsche’s framework. Instead, I argue that anyone, at any moment, can choose to act from kindness. That kindness can be recognized universally (though not always reciprocated). It is not naive to act in kindness, just as it is not naive to act in strength.
4. You bring up the example of a benevolent dictator, which I find a fascinating but ultimately fantastical concept. A dictator’s actions might, in some cases, resemble those of a genuinely kind leader, even if their rule is built on domination. While that might be true in theory, I would deny that there has ever been a dictator who was ever genuinely benevolent, who did more than throw a few treats to his peasants to prevent immediate uprising and perpetuate his domination. One of the overriding traits of dictatorship (from Ancient to contemporary) is paranoia and constant fear on the part of all dictators, from Hiero to Caligula to Stalin to M’Trumpsk. All dictatorships arise through violence and illegitimate usurpation (cf. Machiavelli’s Prince), making them inherently unstable and locked in perpetual strife for legitimacy. What makes a system durable is determined not only by the means through which it was attained, but also the structure it builds. If a power structure fosters inclusion, solidarity, and stability, then it has built something far more robust than rule by fear.
5. Your last point about bad faith actors is insightful. I do assume that people can reject kindness, but to reject it, they must first recognize it. Kindness is intelligible to everyone, even if they choose not to trust it. The mistrust of kindness comes from past negative experiences, not an inability to recognize it. If someone is truly incapable of recognizing kindness at all, we are dealing with sociopathy, not a failure of kindness itself. Thus, kindness as a force remains viable, even if not universally accepted.
6. Your response raised important nuances, particularly around governance, reciprocity, and practical application. I don’t claim kindness is a one-size-fits-all solution to power, but I do argue that it is an untapped force in human strength. And that alone makes it worth exploring.
I really appreciate your response, Mr. Peregrine, and I hope my answers helped clarify both my argument and the goals of this piece. Let me know if you have any other questions, I’d be happy to continue the discussion.
So the will to power operates (regardless of the underlying motivation of fear/insecurity, which I don’t dispute though would argue is a simplification of the totality of motivating factors; not strictly a problem here but just an observation) on the simple assumption that other people exist, at worst, as competition for dominance and at best as passive beings to be dominated.
The will to kindness exists in a more paradoxical state. To operate with full kindness requires an assumption that every other human (/animal/conscious entity, depending on one’s worldview) is capable of reciprocal kindness, or at a minimum of acknowledging and responding more positively to kindness than to other paradigms of interaction. However, to do so successfully requires knowledge of humans’ power to do evil and to exploit those who treat the world with kindness. One can thus never be fully kind without being naive and open to exploitation, and so it’s difficult for a kindness to succeed as a means of governance because it must allow for some assumption of bad faith - and how one bypasses/overrides/triumphs with kindness over bad faith is impossible to design as a one-size-fits-all solution.
Which is widely known, in terms of truisms like “the price of freedom is constant vigilance”, but much harder to apply practically since each individual kind actor’s approach for identifying and neutralising bad faith will vary. One reasonably logical endpoint of this is the idea of the benevolent dictator, where the means of gaining and maintaining power may be indistinguishable from that of someone pursing pure dominance for its own sake, and whose efficacy is judged by the society which emerges from such dictatorship rather than by its cause or origin, which feels like a contradiction that Freddy Neetch himself might have appreciated.
Thanks for this thoughtful response! You raise excellent points, and many don’t need a reply, but I’ll focus on the areas where I see things differently or where clarification might help.
1. At its core, the Will to Power is not a demonstrated truth but a metaphysical construction of human nature that justifies itself through the very principle it asserts. It does not argue for power; it assumes power as its own justification. If power is grounded in power, then the argument is circular.
It presents itself as a self-evident truth, not because it is proven, but because it is rhetorically asserted in the strongest possible terms. Nietzsche is such a great writer, psychologist, and careful observer of human behavior, and he attempts to persuade by appealing to power itself. For him, his interpretation is the most compelling and the truest – because it is the most powerful. He spends many beautifully crafted pages describing elements of power from art to philosophy to music to politics, etc. It’s a genuinely beautiful tapestry. Unfortunately for Uncle Friedrich, none of it is an argument. They’re rhetorical sleights of hand.
Further, even if we grant Nietzsche’s premise that some individuals experience their existence as a Will to Power, it does not follow that all beings are driven by power. An interpretation, by definition, cannot be universalized. And yet, Nietzsche leaps from an individual’s experience to a claim about the fundamental structure of all life. That leap reveals the Will to Power as an incoherent attempt to turn a subjective framework into a necessary universal truth.
At bottom, the Will to Power is not a necessary truth but a human artifact. It’s a constructed lens for interpreting the world. And like any construction, it can be challenged.
2. In my essay, I don’t challenge the Will to Power as a whole, nor do I investigate “will” itself. Instead, I argue that acts of kindness can be an expression of power. It is a power categorically different from domination for the following reasons: a) the drive to dominate is rooted in fear and insecurity b) the ability to be kind is rooted in self-mastery c) fear produces the will to dominate, but no amount of power over others eliminates fear within oneself.
Hence, domination masks weakness. It doesn’t demonstrate strength. Nietzsche, despite all his talk of “overcoming,” never addresses the overcoming of fear. That omission is telling.
3. You raise a great concern that if kindness assumes reciprocity, how does it deal with bad faith? Here are a few thoughts I’ll share (not exhaustive): I do not assume “perfect kindness” nor propose a “will to kindness” as a universal system to replace the will to power. What I’m showing doesn’t operate with Nietzsche’s framework. Instead, I argue that anyone, at any moment, can choose to act from kindness. That kindness can be recognized universally (though not always reciprocated). It is not naive to act in kindness, just as it is not naive to act in strength.
4. You bring up the example of a benevolent dictator, which I find a fascinating but ultimately fantastical concept. A dictator’s actions might, in some cases, resemble those of a genuinely kind leader, even if their rule is built on domination. While that might be true in theory, I would deny that there has ever been a dictator who was ever genuinely benevolent, who did more than throw a few treats to his peasants to prevent immediate uprising and perpetuate his domination. One of the overriding traits of dictatorship (from Ancient to contemporary) is paranoia and constant fear on the part of all dictators, from Hiero to Caligula to Stalin to M’Trumpsk. All dictatorships arise through violence and illegitimate usurpation (cf. Machiavelli’s Prince), making them inherently unstable and locked in perpetual strife for legitimacy. What makes a system durable is determined not only by the means through which it was attained, but also the structure it builds. If a power structure fosters inclusion, solidarity, and stability, then it has built something far more robust than rule by fear.
5. Your last point about bad faith actors is insightful. I do assume that people can reject kindness, but to reject it, they must first recognize it. Kindness is intelligible to everyone, even if they choose not to trust it. The mistrust of kindness comes from past negative experiences, not an inability to recognize it. If someone is truly incapable of recognizing kindness at all, we are dealing with sociopathy, not a failure of kindness itself. Thus, kindness as a force remains viable, even if not universally accepted.
6. Your response raised important nuances, particularly around governance, reciprocity, and practical application. I don’t claim kindness is a one-size-fits-all solution to power, but I do argue that it is an untapped force in human strength. And that alone makes it worth exploring.
I really appreciate your response, Mr. Peregrine, and I hope my answers helped clarify both my argument and the goals of this piece. Let me know if you have any other questions, I’d be happy to continue the discussion.