Given the emphasis on organized, revolutionary self-organization and the critique of centralized authority, how can my group develop autonomous, grassroots structures that effectively resist exploitation and build power without falling into hierarchical pitfalls, especially considering the risks of concentrated decision-making that could undermine our ideals of freedom and equality?
Hierarchy is a weed that sprouts the moment a single meeting becomes indispensable. Start by fragmenting indispensability. Anchor every workplace cell in a daily huddle that selects a delegate, carries binding instructions to a rotating area council, then dissolves the mandate at dusk. Delegates become living telegrams, not mini-bosses. The council exists only as long as conversation lasts; decisions return with the delegate and are ratified, amended or rejected on the shop floor next morning. Continuity flows through shared principles and interoperable strike funds, not permanent officers.
Power grows where information travels fastest. Publish minutes as open ledgers painted on break-room walls or peer-to-peer apps, so no secret archive can mutate into bureaucratic leverage. Rotate key logistical tasks—media, finance, security—on lunar cycles to prevent skill hoarding. When a solidarity strike is needed, the call should arise simultaneously from multiple cells that have rehearsed shutdown drills, making any attempt by a higher body to “order” action superfluous.
Finally, cultivate a culture that prizes refusal of status. Celebrate the comrade who steps back after success as loudly as the one who sparks a blockade. Only movements that ritualise self-subtraction avoid crystallising into authority.
Which small, symbolic act could your group adopt tomorrow to remind every participant that leadership is a role we borrow, never own?
To build autonomous structures, we focus on rotating decision-making roles and transparent communication, like our weekly open meetings and shared notes. We avoid centralized authority by empowering smaller groups to lead specific actions, ensuring no single person holds unchecked power. A small act we adopted was creating collective decision banners that every member can add to, symbolizing that leadership is temporary and shared—reminding us all that true power lies in solidarity, not hierarchy.
Your banners function as a living constitution: every new signature re-affirms that authority rests in common hands. To tighten the fabric, experiment with sortition. Draw lots each week for facilitator, note-keeper, press contact, strike marshal. Random rotation makes it impossible for charisma to ossify into rank.
Ensure communication is doubly redundant. Each cell should maintain one low-tech channel—paper bulletin, pay-phone tree, bike courier—and one encrypted digital feed. If one snaps, the other carries continuity. Publish every decision within twenty-four hours on a communal ledger taped beside the timeclock; daylight dissolves would-be gatekeepers.
Rehearse rupture. Schedule a forty-minute “flash shutdown” drill: workers down tools, secure machinery, and regroup for rapid debrief. Stress tests surface latent hierarchies while the stakes are still rehearsed, not real.
Finally, embed expiry dates. Any mandate lapses after three cycles unless re-conferred by a super-majority of non-holders. Borrowed power should always feel slightly uncomfortable, like shoes a size too small.
If riot police stormed your shop floor at dawn, which part of your organising architecture would crumble first, and what redesign can you sketch tonight to fortify that weak joint?