Idealistic Illusions: The Abyss of Power
One might think there is an exception to the critique of power. That against the greed of ordinary opportunists, a certain kind of individual redeems the whole enterprise: young idealists, convinced that governing is the way to transform the world, to improve the human condition, to repair injustice. These are not driven by greed or the thirst for domination, but by sincere conviction. They see themselves as reformers, messengers of change, bearers of hope. Their energy, optimism, and faith in the future distinguish them from the mass of schemers. Yet, on closer inspection, this exception does not save anything—it confirms the problem. For these idealists reveal another flaw, just as dramatic: a childlike blindness before the abyss of power.
Innocence Mistaken for Salvation
The one who, very young, turns to power out of a desire to make things better believes himself moved by a special nobility. He imagines that sincerity alone grants him the legitimacy required. But it is precisely this naïve sincerity that becomes a danger. Governing is not an exhilarating adventure: it is a minefield where each step engages millions of lives. To step into such a role with the enthusiasm of a youthful reformer is like walking into a nuclear power plant with the energy of a scout: full of good will, but ignorant of the weight of the mechanisms he pretends to handle.
Innocence is not a virtue in politics when it turns into recklessness. And that is exactly the case here. To believe that fresh ideas and pure intentions suffice to correct ancient, ruthless structures is a mistake of scale. The young idealist does not grasp that power does not bend to dreams, that it does not become malleable simply because one projects generosity onto it. He does not understand that every decision, even the most trivial, triggers cascading effects beyond his control. This lack of awareness is not excusable. What is at stake goes far beyond the experience he brings.
A Catastrophic Imprudence
It may be tempting to say: “What does it matter? They meant well.” But such reasoning is untenable. Can we excuse an entire nation being dragged into disaster on the pretext that its leaders believed they were doing the right thing? In politics, the argument of good intentions is absurd, for the consequences are measured in human lives, in wars, in crises, in generations scarred. Innocence does not become a mitigating factor: it becomes an aggravating one. For it shows that the keys to the common house have been entrusted to inexperienced hands, enthralled by the promise of a new world yet blind to the chasms opening under their feet.
A mature civilization would never allow this. It would not permit the future of a people to rest on the surge of a half-formed enthusiasm. It would build mechanisms that prevent access to power on the mere basis of wanting to reform. The very fact that we accept, sometimes even celebrate, immature idealists rushing into the conquest of power proves how primitive our collective foundations still are. It reveals a structural immaturity, an incapacity to diagnose danger at its root.
A Minority Put to Use
It must also be noted that these idealists are rare. The vast majority of those who covet power do so out of social ambition, personal calculation, the pursuit of prestige. Power is synonymous with success in the eyes of the crowd, and it is this mirage that draws the overwhelming majority of contenders. Genuine idealists form only a tiny minority. And yet, it is precisely these rare figures that are showcased to legitimize the system. They are brandished as proof that politics is not all about greed. They are cited to say: “See, some want to change the world.” But this very instrumentalization is itself a deception.
What should be diagnosed as a symptom of collective immaturity instead becomes an alibi. We fail to see that these idealists confirm the problem of power: that it always attracts those who do not understand what it entails. They are used as moral cover to disguise structural corruption, rather than recognized for what they are—another form of blindness, less cynical but just as dangerous.
The Universal Rot of Power
Here lies the heart of the problem: whether power is coveted by the greedy or by the idealists, the result is tainted. In one case, we face the insensitivity of dominators. In the other, the recklessness of naïve reformers. In both, civilization exposes itself to catastrophe. Power, as it is conceived, is an open door to blindness. It attracts either the callous or the unconscious. And this alternative, structuring our societies for millennia, is the greatest calamity afflicting humankind.
We often seek the origin of our misfortunes in the economy, in technology, in geopolitics. But such explanations miss the root cause. The true rot, the root of most of our evils, lies in the fact that our institutions offer power to those who want it. This mechanism, seemingly banal, is in reality an original fault. It alone suffices to explain why corruption repeats endlessly, why history is littered with failures, wars, massive injustices. For as long as power is a conquest, it will always fall into the hands of those who have not understood that it is a curse.
A Civilization Still Archaic
It is crushing to realize that after millennia of experience, humanity has still not moved past this stage. It continues to celebrate ambition, to admire boldness, to entrust its fate to those who impose or expose themselves. It has not invented a mechanism that places the burden of power into the hands of those who dread it. It has not understood that the true sign of wisdom is refusal, that lucidity is expressed in reluctance, that awareness of the abyss itself disqualifies any ambition to govern. We still live in a primitive arrangement, where blindness is institutionalized.
The Cost of Immaturity
This immaturity has a cost. Millions of lives sacrificed in the name of poorly conceived good intentions. Entire nations dragged into disastrous ventures because a young leader believed in the purity of his mission. Generations scarred by the decisions of individuals who had not yet grasped the gravity of the role they sought. Power does not forgive reckless enthusiasm. It turns it into tragedy. And yet, instead of learning, societies repeat the same pattern again and again. They hand the throne now to the greedy, now to the idealists, as though these two poles were the only options available.
An Irrefutable Diagnosis
This diagnosis should be enough to awaken us. We can no longer say: “They meant well.” In politics, such a phrase is meaningless. You do not govern a people the way you test an idea. You do not wager the lives of millions to see if sincerity alone can tame the machinery of power. To say “they meant well” is to justify the unjustifiable, to normalize catastrophe, to disguise the primitive foundations of our world.
Toward Another Perspective
If a mature civilization were to arise, it would begin by facing this truth. It would recognize that power is corrupted not only by the greed of the ambitious, but also by the blindness of the idealists. It would stop believing that good intentions shield against disaster. It would understand that the desire to govern, whatever its motivation, is itself a mark of blindness. And it would invent institutions that invert the logic: not choosing among those who want, but persuading those who refuse. Not admiring those who impose themselves, but holding on to those who tremble.
Conclusion: The Double Failure of Power
Human civilization is not the victim of a passing accident, but of a structural flaw. It entrusts power either to the greedy or to the unconscious. In both cases, the outcome is disastrous. History repeats the same lesson endlessly: that both greed and naïve idealism lead to the same dead ends. Power, as currently conceived, is the worst rot of humankind, the source of most of its ills. Until we recognize this double failure, until we stop justifying catastrophe with the excuse of good intentions or admiring the social success of the ambitious, we will remain prisoners of an archaic order.
It is not enough to denounce the greedy. We must also stop idealizing the naïve. For power is not a glorious conquest, nor a field of experimentation for dreamers. It is an inhuman burden that should terrify those who approach it. The fact that we have turned it into a trophy proves that we have not yet left political prehistory. And it is from this delay that our tragedies, again and again, are born.