
By Joe Byerly
Two Army officers stand across from each other. Both are in their mid-50s. One slightly older, but only by a few years. Both wear stars on their shoulders. Both have commanded thousands of troops—the elder, tens of thousands.
The conversation turns heated. The younger general pushes back, his tone firm. Then something shifts.
“Get to the position of attention!” the older officer barks. A reminder of who outranks who.
Without hesitation, the younger officer snaps upright—heels together, legs straight, chest lifted, arms tight to his sides, fists closed, thumbs aligned with the seam of his trousers. The perfect military position of attention.
And then, like a private on his first day, he’s berated by a man only a few years older than himself.
If you’re not from the military, you may be asking yourself: Why would he allow himself to be spoken to that way? Why would he obey? What am I missing? If you have served in uniform, a few expletives probably come to mind as you imagine what you would have done in that same situation.
We know it when we see it—in the way someone carries themselves, in how they act, and in how others act around them. We also know when it’s missing, when someone is stripped of influence, when their lives are at the whim of someone else.
This is power.
But what exactly IS it?
I’ve spent years as an active participant in the world of power. I’ve witnessed it up close within its inner circles and I’ve studied it historically. I worked my ass off to attain it, had it, and eventually, I chose to let it go on its way.
Over the last year of retirement from the Army, I’ve been reflecting on it more deeply than ever. Here’s my attempt at defining it:
Power is a social force that allows one person to shape the behavior of others and, in doing so, to exert control over the world around them.
We see power in the choices of kings in Homer’s Iliad. We see it in the excesses of emperors like Nero, in the campaigns of conquerors like Napoleon, and in the decisions of modern leaders from Hitler to Truman. We see it in our workplaces, in our communities, in our governments. And we saw it in the two general officers I opened this post with.
We can’t stop at the definition power. We also have to ask, What is its nature? What are the essential qualities of power that have remained the same throughout the history of mankind?
Even though we’ve advanced from telling stories around fires, living in caves, and hurling rocks at each other to social media, suburbs, and armed drones, the nature of power—and our relationship to it—remains the same. It has remained changeless amid change.
When wielded responsibly by men and women of character, power has advanced humanity forward. But when wielded recklessly, selfishly, or without restraint, it has torn down institutions, launched wars, and sent millions to their graves.
Power is Transformative
It changes the world of the person who wields it, giving them the ability to impose their will on others. It has built cities, companies, social media platforms—even entire empires. And it destroys them too.
It moves people. It reshapes the environment.
But, its transformative nature works both ways. Power also affects the person who has it.
It corrupts and it reveals.
As Lord Acton famously wrote, “Power tends to corrupt, and absolute power corrupts absolutely.” Left unchecked, power feeds our worst instincts. It erodes judgment and inflates the ego. We wrap ourselves in the cloak of our positions. We stop serving as the President, the CEO, the Commander—and start becoming those titles.
We begin to believe we’re better than we are. We mistake the hard work and ingenuity of others for evidence of our own brilliance. We turn our positions inward, using them for our benefit instead of those we serve. People around us become obstacles to overcome or tools to exploit.
Power also reveals. It exposes character—our flaws as well as our strengths. Humility or arrogance. Forgiveness or vindictiveness. It exposes insecurity too: the lack of confidence we try to mask, the hunger for validation we can’t satisfy ourselves. Whatever we thought was safely buried, power drags into the light.
Power is Scarce
Not everyone can have power. In any community, organization, or government, only a handful of people hold it. That scarcity makes it an object of desire.
Desire for power fuels ambition. It drives men and women to claw their way to the top—or to look for shortcuts and workarounds to get their hands on it. And once attained, that same desire fuels the instinct to hold on, no matter the cost.
It’s why we see people long past their cognitive prime refusing to let go. As Xenophon wrote in Hieron, “Laying down power is one of the greatest hardships to which a despot is subjected…the best thing he can do is hang himself.”
Power is Relational
It’s a social force, which means it requires two or more people to exist. Power thrives on an often unspoken agreement—that one person will have a degree of control over another.
Even when a person’s power is so great that they are able to leverage institutions to punish those who resist, there are limits. There is only so much control one person can exert.
In the midst of the Second World War, John Steinbeck published The Moon Is Down, a novel secretly distributed across occupied Europe. In it, the mayor of a conquered town tells a powerful colonel that his mission is doomed: he has “the one impossible job in the world, the one thing that can’t be done.”
“And that is?” the colonel asks.
“To break man’s spirit permanently.”
Once people begin breaking the power agreement—once they refuse to recognize it—power begins to unravel. That’s how men and women in the Holocaust found ways to push back. It’s how American prisoners of war in Vietnam drew strength by uniting. And it’s why the U.S. struggled in Iraq and Afghanistan—because people refused to honor the power agreement.
No matter what form it takes, power is a social force. It will always be relational.
Power is a Byproduct
Power is a byproduct of money, fame, or hierarchical position. That last point is worth pausing on. Those who seek authority and responsibility need to understand that stepping into a role means stepping into power.
The moment you take the seat, pin on the rank, or accept the title, you’re no longer just you. You’re now the wielder of power.
When people play your song on the radio, stream it during their workouts, and pay top dollar to see you live—you have power. When you have money that buys access, bends rules, and opens doors—you are powerful.
Power is Blind
Good. Bad. Benevolent. Vindictive. Brilliant. Ignorant. Tolerant. Tyrant. Power invites them all to its table. It doesn’t care how it’s used—only that it is used.
As kids, we were told stories where good always overcame evil, where the pure of heart became kings and queens, where the world was just. But those were fairytales. That’s not how the real world works.
Yes, history has its rare examples—Greek statesmen, Roman emperors, presidents, and CEOs who used power for good. But they are exceptions.
While history remembers a handful of leaders who used power for good, the names that dominate its pages are those who brought suffering, death, and destruction: Nero. Stalin. Hitler. Pol Pot. And others whose stories are still being written. They weren’t just. They weren’t deserving. And their hearts were anything but pure.
Power doesn’t care. It doesn’t choose. It’s not Excalibur waiting for a worthy hand to pull it from the stone. It simply waits for whoever is willing to pick it up.
Now What?
So, if we can define power—if we know that it’s transformative, scarce, blind, relational, and a byproduct of money, fame, or position—then we can take it more seriously. We can give it the respect it deserves.
For those who seek it, you can prepare your character for it. You can be ready for its corrupting and revealing influences. You can learn to handle it responsibly. You can become the one who deserves to pull it from the rock, not just the one who happened to pick it up.
And for everyone else, knowing more about power helps us take seriously the processes by which we place it in the hands of others. To ensure the right men and women are holding it. That they are prepared, and willing, to use it for the good of those they serve, not the good of themselves.
Power has built our brightest moments and has led us to our darkest. We can’t wish it away. We can’t make it something that it’s not. Its nature won’t let us. But, we can prepare ourselves and our institutions by seeing it clearly, studying it, and maybe, even more importantly, studying ourselves. For when it comes to power, it’s a force too great to take for granted.
Joe Byerly is a retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel with 20 years of service, including tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, and command of a cavalry squadron in Europe. He earned numerous prestigious awards, including multiple Legion of Merits, Bronze Stars, the Purple Heart, and General Douglas MacArthur Leadership Award. In 2013, Joe founded From the Green Notebook.
A passionate advocate for self-knowledge through reading and reflection, he authored The Leader’s 90-Day Notebook and co-authored My Green Notebook: “Know Thyself” Before Changing Jobs, a resource for leaders seeking greater self-awareness. If this post resonated with you or sparked any questions, feel free to reach out to him at Joe@fromthegreennotebook.com.



