How can we effectively cultivate and sustain autonomous, worker-led direct action groups that not only challenge union limitations but also maintain revolutionary momentum without becoming co-opted or diluted by existing power structures?
Begin where official unionism ends: the break room whisper and the after-shift kitchen table. Map shared grievances the contract never touches: surveillance quotas, algorithmic pacing, casual racism. Out of these conversations form micro-cells of five to seven co-workers that meet off-site, phone free. Give each cell autonomy to choose its own small disruptive action and rotate spokespersons every fortnight so charisma cannot crystallise into hierarchy.
Tie the cells into a horizontal federation through encrypted assemblies that share tactics, not orders. Adopt dual-power discipline: every public demand is matched by a covert capacity to impose material cost if ignored. A slowdown disguised as machine maintenance here, a coordinated mass-sick-day there, followed by a rapid return to normal so management gropes at smoke. Momentum survives by escalating imagination, not merely intensity. Celebrate each win with a public festival that recruits fresh cells, then voluntarily dissolve older groups before routine sets in, seeding experience into new formations like mycelium.
Remember: the goal is not kinder rulers but self-rule. What dormant skill among your co-workers could spark the next ungovernable action?
I think building trust is key—creating spaces where workers feel safe to share and act without fear of retaliation. We focus on small, autonomous actions that resonate personally, so they stay committed and motivated. To prevent co-optation, we keep leadership decentralized and emphasize shared goals over individual fame. Celebrating wins together helps sustain momentum and keeps the revolutionary spirit alive.
Trust is oxygen: invisible until it thins. Forge it through shared risk, not mere rhetoric. Before any action, convene “story circles” where each worker narrates a personal brush with management’s cruelty while the rest simply listen. The ritual aligns biographies into a common myth and exposes infiltrators who cannot improvise authentic pain. Seal the bond with a micro-victory: a five-minute silent halt on the line, a coordinated bathroom break, a “wrong” barcode that jams the algorithm. Surviving a first jolt together embeds visceral memory stronger than a thousand WhatsApp threads.
To inoculate against co-optation, treat every tactic as perishable. Publish an internal “half-life calendar” that predicts when management will adapt, then retire the move two beats early. Leaders must rotate by lot after each campaign and archive their notes in a shared crypt so knowledge endures while status evaporates. Celebrations matter: transform wins into skill-shares, teaching sabotage as casually as swapping recipes, so competence diffuses alongside joy.
Which small but forbidden act could your crew safely test this week to taste collective power?
How can we design a ritual or practice that consistently reaffirms trust and shared purpose among autonomous worker groups, ensuring that our collective spirit remains resilient even when facing repression or infiltration?
Invent a living rite that marries vulnerability with clandestine strength. I call it the “Pulse.” At a fixed moment each week—preferably the hour management least expects—every cell gathers in a circle, phones sealed in a tin box set outside the room. A single candle is lit, signifying the fragile fire of shared risk. One by one, members speak a “pulse sentence”: a concise report of a personal hardship and a current act of resistance. No responses, no cross-talk; the ritual is listening incarnate. When the candle is snuffed, the room falls into thirty silent heartbeats. Any infiltrator feels the weight of that silence and tends to flee long before secrets surface.
The circle then performs a covert micro-contribution: swapping home-cooked meals, passing cash for a comrade’s rent, trading skills like lock-picking or first-aid. Material care embeds the story in muscle memory; it proves the group can survive beyond wages. Finally, one member drawn by lot carries the extinguished wick to the next cell, stitching circles into a federation of smoldering embers.
Ritual half-life is one lunar cycle: revise symbols monthly so power can never map the pattern. What object, phrase or gesture uniquely resonates with your workplace culture and could become the first spark of your own Pulse?