The best books about the abuse of power and its most effective remedy: democracy

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Shepherd.com, September 1, 2024

John Keane’s favorite books about the abuse of power and its most effective remedy: democracy

Why am I passionate about this?

A good part of my life has been devoted to trying to think and write creatively about politics, history, media, and democracy. Under the pseudonym Erica Blair, my first writings were about the meaning and significance of civil society. In early 1989, in London, I founded the world’s first Centre for the Study of Democracy (CSD); more recently, I designed and launched the experimental Democracy Lighthouse platform. My books have been published in more than three dozen languages, and I’ve also contributed interviews and articles to global platforms such as The New York Times, Al Jazeera, South China Morning Post, The Guardian, Letras Libres, and the Times Literary Supplement.

I wrote

Tom Paine

By John Keane

Book cover of Tom Paine

What is my book about?

A citizen extraordinary and daredevil writer who penned the three biggest-selling books of the 18th century, Tom Paine still strikes our times like a trumpet blast from a distant past.

My award-winning biography shows why, among friends and enemies alike, he earned an international public reputation as a fierce critic of poverty, slavery, and war, as a dogged enemy of political corruption, religious bigotry, snobbery, and groveling, and as a pioneering champion of republican democracy and the civil and political rights of citizens of all countries.


Book cover of Jacques the Fatalist

Why I love this book

Brimming with paradoxes and ironies, this 18th-century novel about language and power is more than an ingenious attack on the bland literary fashions of a closed-minded ancien régime of aristocratic power and privilege.

I love its playful celebration of heterodoxy and its witty defense of the clever thoughts of an upstart servant who demands to be treated with respect by daring to call into question his master’s illusions about the meaning of life.


Book cover of On Certainty

Why I love this book

An exhilarating set of 676 aphorisms composed by the Austrian-British anti-philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein during the final months of his life, On Certainty questions the human will to cock-sure knowledge and mastery of the world. It’s an appeal for greater humility about what we claim to know, a warning against literal-mindedness and self-indulgent talk of “facts” and “objective reality.” Facts are artifacts, and what counts as truth varies through time and space, he dared to say.

Wittgenstein went on to imagine a world where instead of saying ‘I know,’ we chose more humbly to say “I believe I know.” This suggestion has an important flipside: gloomy convictions that we’re living in a doomed age headed for hell are the conjoined twin of optimistic know-all certainty. Pessimism is optimism turned upside down.


Book cover of The Origins of Totalitarianism

Why I love this book

Commonly interpreted as the finest account of the ‘gigantic criminality’ of the Nazi and Stalinist totalitarian regimes, Arendt’s book has for me a more immediately visceral significance. It has profound things to say about what she called a “terribly cruel” contradiction lurking within the modern democratic commitment to equality.

She pointed out that although democracy demands that we recognize others as our equals, certain groups, especially for reasons of their past sufferings, are prone to misuse and abuse their democratic freedoms. They do so by violently asserting their rights to live as a “sovereign people” at the expense of others whom they treat as “superfluous.”

Would Arendt have been surprised by the way a “democratic” state born of the ashes of genocide is nowadays behaving? Would she have condoned its military efforts to destroy “in whole or in part” (Genocide Convention Article 2c) a “superfluous” people known as Palestinians? Almost surely not.


Book cover of The Need for Roots

Why I love this book

At once Jewish, French, and Christian, an ex-factory worker and field laborer, and political thinker whose short life was tragically ended by a hunger strike against Nazism, Simone Weil should today be remembered as the first thoughtful defender of our need for social and ecological roots.

Published posthumously, this extraordinary book is a withering protest against deracination: the forcible uprooting of peoples’ lives by unbridled capitalism, state socialism, nationalism, and war. Anticipating the recent celebration of the ideals of civil society, Weil stood against violence and every form of institutional standardization, bossing, and bullying. Felt obligations toward others, freedom from arbitrary power, and self-government based on citizens’ grounded consent are, for her, the mark of a good society.


Book cover of The Power of the Powerless

Why I love this book

One of those rare pieces of political writing that outlive their moment of birth to become classics, Havel’s grippingly written essay invites us to rethink the meaning of power. The radical idea is that the powerful are never as powerful as they, or we, might imagine.

Since within any institution or political order, the lines of organized power pass like low-current electricity through all its subjects, the downtrodden always have within themselves the power to short-circuit the system and to remedy their own powerlessness by refusing the power of rulers bent on running and ruining their everyday lives.