When power remains, but consent dissolves
I recently read an article on Time that described a situation both disturbing and increasingly familiar. It outlined a presidency that generates global tension on an almost daily basis. A leader who, in the eyes of roughly half the population, embodies strength and authority—while simultaneously being met with deep distrust by a clear majority of citizens. Not to mention how this leadership is perceived internationally.
Donald Trump rose to power in the wake of a predecessor whose strength lay elsewhere. Biden excelled at legitimising decisions through empathy and attunement, but he lacked personal authority and the kind of presence many associate with leadership. His approach, however well-intentioned, drifted too far toward alignment with specific minorities. This produced a “left-leaning” image that provoked intense resentment among opponents. Their frustration escalated to the point where they concluded: this is exactly why we need Trump. An authoritarian figure, largely indifferent to attunement, was embraced as the corrective force.
But reality rarely complies with emotional logic. Anger may propel someone into power, yet it does not grant legitimacy to what follows. History repeatedly shows that fragile collectives tend to elevate authoritarian leaders. The deeper issue, however, is not the individual leader—it is a population unable to generate constructive responses to its own distress.
There is widespread outrage about what feels broken, paired with a striking absence of workable solutions. Decisions made from sheer decisiveness may appear strong, but decisiveness alone does not legitimise their substance. In an earlier reflection, I described the conditions necessary for high-quality thinking. At present, very little of that appears to be active in the United States. Choices are being forced through on urgency and fury rather than reflection.
At the same time, profound psychological processes unfold within the leader himself. While we cannot see inside his mind, experience with similar personalities allows for a plausible sketch. Under sustained pressure, the internal narrative hardens. The story a leader tells himself becomes impermeable to reason or relational correction. Persistence begins to feel like the only viable option. Perception narrows, confirmation bias intensifies, and responsibility is pushed outward. In the short term, this offers a sense of control. In the longer term, it rapidly corrodes trust.
This distortion is not confined to the leader. His supporters mirror it. Together they form what can be described as a tribal enclosure: a closed identity built on unconditional loyalty and wholesale rejection of anything external. Rather than regulating collective emotion, the leader anchors his followers in a sub-system that no longer tests reality. For him, this creates temporary stability. For the group, it accelerates instability.
Will this dynamic persist indefinitely? Unlikely. Extremity tends to hasten collapse. Trump’s pattern is consistent: assertive action paired with diminishing consent. His leadership grows louder, faster, and more unilateral, steadily weakening the sense of representation among the public. Psychologically, authority shifts from relational to defensive. What we are witnessing is adaptation stripped of reflection.
This trajectory leads not to resolution, but to disorder—out of which a new configuration must eventually arise.
When a leader stops learning, certainty often increases. Isolation from feedback reinforces the internal narrative. For followers, this functions as a psychological shelter. It temporarily protects the leader while further fragmenting the political system. Accusations multiply as a way of shedding unbearable responsibility. From within the leader’s own psychology, this is an attempt to regulate overwhelming emotion through projection.
Genuine reflection at this stage would likely be too painful to sustain.
Meanwhile, authority erodes quietly—until it collapses visibly. In the animal kingdom, such moments are often dramatic: primates violently depose leaders who fail to attune to the group. Ancient history records similar ends for rulers who refused correction. For now, no overt crisis has fully erupted—but one could emerge at any moment.
As long as decisiveness is mistaken for maturity, this erosion can continue slowly. Until reality becomes unavoidable. Often this occurs through a moment of exposure that even loyal insiders cannot rationalize away. The Epstein files revealed precisely such vulnerability. Resistance to their publication sparked unrest within Trump’s own base, forcing him into reluctant concessions devoid of substance. For now, his supporters largely lack either the inclination or habit of critical examination.
The United States—once powerful and admired—now finds itself mired in a leadership crisis of its own making.
A collective incapable of attuning to itself selects a leader equally incapable of attunement. That leader amplifies division and governs from a fabricated narrative. His tenure becomes about survival rather than authorship. Control remains functional, but meaning drains away. Eventually, the vacuum collapses inward.
What follows then? Ideally, a leader able to articulate a story in which all Americans can recognize themselves. Someone who leads while continuing to listen. Who remains open to the full spectrum of life, without allowing a small faction to dominate collective direction.
This is an extraordinarily difficult task. The American system rewards polarization at every turn: red or blue, belief or disbelief, autonomy or control. A binary worldview takes hold. For authoritarian personalities and psychologically damaged candidates, this environment is ideal for exploitation.
Thus emerges authority without legitimacy—a condition history tells us can endure for a very long time.