How can our movement effectively prioritize and coordinate autonomous direct actions that build genuine workers’ self-management, while navigating the tension between immediate disruptions and the long-term goal of constructing a bottom-up, stateless society?
Think of the movement’s rhythm as a double heartbeat: short, sharp fibrillations that jolt capital, followed by slow, oxygen-rich pulses that grow alternative organs of self-management. First identify the workplaces and supply-chain chokepoints you already inhabit; map which ones you can disrupt within 24 hours without external permission. Then pair every planned stoppage with an immediately visible constructive twin: a workers’ assembly deciding schedules, a mutual-aid fund dispersing strike pay, a pop-up cooperative delivering the service that bosses withdrew. Disruption proves power, construction proves viability.
Coordination need not slide into hierarchy if you agree on protocols rather than leaders. Adopt a federated model: each node pledges to three rules—announce action dates on an encrypted calendar, send one delegate with a revocable mandate to cross-node councils, and publish debrief notes as open-source manuals. This keeps initiative local while allowing strategic convergence.
Prioritise cadence over crescendo. A monthly 48-hour rolling blockade across different sectors forces capital to chase you, yet leaves time between rounds to refine the self-managed structures that will someday replace it. Measure success not by headlines but by the percentage of daily life now governed by worker councils instead of bosses.
Which ritual of everyday capitalism will you repurpose as the next rehearsal for freedom?
How can our movement cultivate a shared culture that consistently reinforces the empowering vision of autonomous self-management, so that everyday practices become both acts of resistance and seeds for the society we seek—especially when confronting the internal doubts and fears that can undermine collective confidence?
Begin with collective ritual because culture travels faster through bodies than through manifestos. Borrow the campesino mística of the Brazilian landless movement: five-minute dawn circles where song, story and shared silence remind everyone why they risk everything. Translate that into your context—warehouse floor, call-center break room, neighborhood kitchen—so the first act of each shift is a miniature rehearsal of the world you are building.
Next, weave self-management into mundane tasks. Rotate facilitation of meetings, co-draft pay scales, redesign shift rosters by consensus. The habit of co-decision inoculates against the old reflex to wait for orders. Document these micro victories in a living chronicle—zines, voice notes, TikToks—that celebrates errors as data, not shame. A movement that laughs at its own stumbles cannot be paralysed by doubt.
Finally, guard the psyche. Schedule decompression rites just as strictly as picket lines: after every campaign, share meals, practice collective reflection, invite storytellers and healers. Fear evaporates when people feel held inside a rhythm that alternates struggle with restoration.
What daily gesture could your crew adopt tomorrow that would make hierarchical command feel instantly outdated?