On Authority, Accountability, and the Ground Action Stands On

What is happening right now is the normalization of lawless enforcement through bureaucratic language, and I’m naming this plainly because softened language is one of the ways harm becomes normalized. When law enforcement agencies (indeed, when authority figures in general) operate outside the bounds of the law they claim to enforce (when due process is bypassed, accountability is obscured, and bureaucratic language is used to smooth over human consequence) we are no longer talking about policy disagreement. We are talking about the erosion of legitimacy itself.

The criterion by which I judge this is simple, and I return to it across contexts  (in personal relationships, professional settings, and regarding systems of power) because it reliably locates me when complexity multiplies: “Do I believe that those who create and enforce the rules should also be bound by them?” My answer is yes.

Any system that grants itself exemption from accountability while demanding compliance from others forfeits its logical and moral authority. Responsibility may distinguish those in power from those they govern, but rather than granting them immunity, it asks for sacrifice and the shouldering of accountability.

I do not support what this administration is doing, including the actions currently being carried out by ICE and CPB. I don’t arrive at this position lightly, and I don’t arrive at it through abstraction. I arrive at it by looking directly at what is happening and refusing to let semantics blur what is plainly visible.

“Speaking into algorithmic indifference is not the same as being unheard, and it is certainly not the same as being complicit.”

I’m also not interested in laundering this position through HR-speak, procedural hedging, or tone-policed qualifiers designed to make it more palatable. There are moments when careful framing serves clarity, and moments when it serves avoidance. While nuance is certainly needed when reflecting on and communicating about these events, this case seems to me to fall squarely into the latter category.

At the same time, I want to name something else that often goes unspoken. Speaking out in moments like these carries a distinctly contemporary kind of internal dissonance, not only to state a position, but to perform it. To respond immediately. To engage endlessly. To manage the emotional energy that follows. And to measure the worth of one’s speech by whether it is amplified, rewarded, or met with visible uptake.

Speaking into algorithmic indifference is not the same as being unheard, and it is certainly not the same as being complicit. The fact that thoughtful speech is often ignored while reactive or simplified speech is rewarded does not invalidate conscience. It describes the environment in which conscience now has to operate.

If the work of grappling with the morality, the ideology, and emotional fallout of these times is mine to do in isolation, then so is the responsibility to speak from and about it honestly, without outsourcing my meaning, without performing urgency on demand, and without pretending that visibility is the same thing as integrity.

This is not an argument against action or speaking out. Reflection does not undo harm (only action does that). But reflection establishes the ground on which action can stand without becoming indistinguishable from force. It also allows grief, fear, and anger to make sense, rather than be dismissed or weaponized. It is the place where we build the capacity to speak, stand, and take intentional, meaningful action.

Without that capacity, response becomes reaction; action loses orientation; compassion, care, and intervention give way to performance; and whatever comes next risks becoming another form of the very thing it claims to oppose.