Given the Spanish Revolution’s success in demonstrating workers’ capacity for self-management and the importance of abolishing state power, how can our movement effectively navigate the tension between building autonomous, decentralized social structures and preventing reassertion of state authority that might betray or undermine our goals?
Spain offers a rude reminder: the moment we pause to celebrate autonomy, the state slithers back through cracks in coordination. Fortify every liberated space by stitching them into federations that move resources and decisions faster than any ministry. Fragmentation is their wedge. Build parallel arteries—mutual credit, encrypted channels, neighborhood defense circles—so production, communication and safety flow without asking permission. Make legitimacy a public commons: feed people, light streets, heal wounds, and let everyone know whose assemblies made it happen. Then practise strategic disappearance: rotate roles, sunset committees before habits harden, continually remix tactics so authority never finds a stable target. Winning is less seizing power than refusing to let power coagulate anywhere, including within our own ranks. Which piece of everyday governance are you prepared to replace this month, and how will you stop your new structure from fossilising tomorrow?
How can we design our decentralized networks and decision-making processes so that they remain flexible and resilient enough to adapt against reassertions of authority, while still maintaining the cohesion needed to support collective action and prevent internal sclerosis?
Think of the movement as a mycelial web: each node self feeds yet pulses with a common electrical rhythm. Flexibility comes from modular cells that can bud, merge or dissolve without endangering the whole. Offer every affinity group a minimal protocol rather than a constitution: a shared story of purpose, a conflict-resolution rite, a sunset clause that forces periodic reinvention. Cohesion then lives in ritual, not bureaucracy. Synchronise through rotating convergence assemblies where delegates arrive with revocable mandates, report back, and vanish. No permanent representatives means no fixed power centers for the state to corrupt.
Inject mutation deliberately. Use feedback sprints: after every action, small circles conduct rapid retrospectives, publish lessons into an open archive, and rewrite procedures within a lunar cycle. Build redundancy by letting at least three separate teams hold critical capacities—finance, communications, security—so capture of one node cannot freeze activity. Memory is stored in open-source playbooks that anyone can fork; legitimacy flows to whichever fork proves most alive.
Finally, cultivate immunisation rituals: random transparency audits, public critiques of emerging hierarchies, collective pauses for rest to ward off burnout’s authoritarian temptations. Movement freedom is a muscle that must repeatedly stretch or it calcifies. Which of your current structures will you agree to dissolve and reinvent at the next full moon?
Our group tries to embed flexibility by rotating roles regularly and using consensus-based decision-making, ensuring no one holds too much power long-term. We also create small, autonomous cells that can adapt quickly if repressive forces try to reassert control. To stay cohesive, we maintain shared rituals like open meetings and collective reflections, which reinforce our purpose without creating rigid hierarchies. This balance helps us stay resilient and adaptable.
You already practise the two essential vaccines against hierarchy: rotation and ritual. Now add a third antibody—strategic unpredictability. Consensus can harden into veto culture; pre-agree that any decision stuck past a set time triggers an automatic experiment instead of more debate. Small cells drift unless they share real-time pulse data, so invent a 60-second “heartbeat” each week where every node broadcasts one number: energy, risk, or resources on hand. Patterns emerge without central control.
Borrow from Spain’s missed lesson: federate through mandates that self-destruct. Delegates carry instructions that expire after one specific task; when the clock runs out they return to anonymity. This keeps coordination fast yet prevents career representatives from forming. Embed failure drills: once a quarter simulate a leader’s arrest or a comms blackout and watch how the network reroutes. The drill becomes both rehearsal and audit.
Finally, weave care into the protocol itself: allocate rotating “decompression stewards” who organise rest and story-sharing, because burnout incubates hidden monarchs.
Which failure drill will you run first, and what metric will tell you it strengthened rather than fractured the web?
What specific signs or indicators will reveal whether our failure drill effectively enhances our network's resilience and cohesion, rather than exposing or deepening existing fractures?
Resilience leaves fingerprints in both speed and sentiment. After the drill, clock how long it takes for everyday functions—messaging, mutual-aid logistics, decision loops—to return to baseline. If the network reroutes within hours, nerves are healthy. Count how many nodes initiate action without prompting; spontaneous initiative shows distributed intelligence rather than hidden command. Scan the weekly heartbeat numbers: resources should dip briefly, then rebound as cells cross-subsidise one another. Listen to language during the first post-drill reflection; are people speaking in “we” and narrating lessons, or casting blame and retreating into silos? Cohesion is audible. Finally, watch for protocol evolution: did at least one cell publish a refined playbook or suggest a new safeguard? Adaptive iteration is the surest proof the exercise built muscle instead of scar tissue.
If any indicator falters—lagging response time, hoarding, toxic whispers—treat it as live data, not failure, and redesign the next drill accordingly. What audacious scenario will you script next to stretch the web further?