How Criminalizing Decentralization Betrays Democratic Self-Governance
Criminalizing decentralized movements betrays the democratic experiment, actively suppressing the horizontal organization essential for genuine self-governance. When autonomy is threatened, democracy becomes mere performance."

The Paradox of Power
Thesis Statement
The contemporary trend toward criminalizing decentralized and leaderless movements represents a fundamental betrayal of the American democratic experiment, revealing a profound paradox: a republic founded on the principle that "We the People" possess the capacity for self-governance is systematically dismantling the very structures through which collective self-determination becomes possible. When citizens are conditioned solely to obey hierarchical authority rather than to organize autonomously, democracy becomes a hollow performance, a system where the governed may vote but cannot truly govern.
I. The Architecture of Self-Governance
Consider what it actually means to govern oneself. Not to be governed (which requires only obedience) but to actively participate in the creation and maintenance of the social contract. The American founders, despite their limitations and contradictions, understood something profound: legitimate authority flows upward from the people, not downward from sovereigns.
This wasn't mere rhetoric. It was a radical reimagining of political power's fundamental nature.
The Declaration of Independence articulates this principle clearly: governments derive "their just powers from the consent of the governed." But consent is not a one-time transaction concluded at a voting booth. Real consent requires continuous capacity for collective action, the ability of citizens to organize, coordinate, and apply pressure independent of existing power structures.
Self-governance without the capacity for autonomous organization is like democracy without speech: technically possible to imagine, practically impossible to sustain.
The founders themselves demonstrated this principle through their actions. The American Revolution was, at its core, a decentralized resistance movement. Yes, figures like Washington, Jefferson, and Franklin served as symbolic leaders and strategic coordinators. But the revolution succeeded because of distributed networks of committees, local militias, and autonomous cells that could operate independently when centralized coordination failed.
The Sons of Liberty, the Committees of Correspondence, the Continental Association: these were leaderless in the sense that they operated through horizontal coordination rather than vertical command. When one node was suppressed, others continued. When British authorities arrested prominent leaders, the movement adapted and persisted.
The very structure that made American independence possible is now being systematically criminalized.
II. The Historical Pattern: Power's Fear of the Uncontrollable
The research reveals something remarkable: across centuries, continents, and ideologies, centralized power structures demonstrate a consistent phobia of decentralized organization. This isn't coincidental—it reflects a fundamental incompatibility.
The Control Equation
Hierarchical power operates through identifiable leverage points:
- Leaders to arrest, assassinate, or co-opt
- Resources to seize or embargo
- Communication channels to intercept or shut down
- Formal structures to infiltrate or delegitimize
When movements organize without these leverage points, they become what security analysts call "illegible" to power: impossible to read, predict, or control through conventional means.
Consider the progression:
Early Christianity (1st-4th centuries): Roman authorities couldn't comprehend a religion with no temples, no priesthood hierarchy (initially), no geographic center. Christians met in homes, shared leadership, and multiplied through person-to-person evangelism. When persecutors arrested bishops, the faith continued. It was like trying to stop water by grasping it: the harder Rome squeezed, the more Christianity slipped through their fingers.
The Abolitionist Movement (18th-19th centuries): Not a single organization but a network of networks. Quaker meetings, African American churches, women's societies, Underground Railroad conductors. Frederick Douglass and Harriet Tubman became famous, yes, but the movement's strength came from thousands of unnamed individuals making autonomous decisions to harbor refugees, pass messages, and resist unjust laws.
Women's Suffrage (19th-20th centuries): Local organizations coordinated loosely under broader umbrellas, but operated independently. When Alice Paul was jailed, others continued. When NAWSA took a conservative approach, the National Woman's Party took a more radical one. The movement was an ecosystem, not an organization chart.
Occupy Wall Street (2011): Perhaps one of the most instructive modern examples. The movement emerged simultaneously in hundreds of cities without central coordination, united by the slogan "We are the 99%." When authorities cleared Zuccotti Park, the physical occupation ended, but the movement's real success lay elsewhere. It fundamentally reframed American political discourse around inequality, spawned countless "Occupy" branded groups addressing specific issues (Occupy Healthcare, Occupy Homes, Occupy Sandy relief efforts), and demonstrated that a leaderless movement could shift national conversation without winning a single electoral campaign. Critics called it unfocused and disorganized. But that was precisely the point: it was a proof of concept for horizontal organization at scale, showing that you don't need leaders to create change, you need networks.
Arab Spring (2010-2011): What began with a fruit vendor's self-immolation in Tunisia cascaded across the Middle East and North Africa, toppling governments in Tunisia, Egypt, Libya, and Yemen. The movements shared a critical characteristic: they were decentralized, organized largely through social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter. Egypt's Tahrir Square protests famously had no single leader, no unified command structure, yet managed to sustain an 18-day occupation that ended Hosni Mubarak's 30-year reign. The decentralized nature proved both strength and vulnerability. Without leaders to negotiate, governments struggled to co-opt or compromise with protesters. But without institutional structures to consolidate gains, many movements ultimately succumbed to military coups, civil wars, or authoritarian backlash. The pattern revealed something crucial: decentralized movements excel at disruption but face unique challenges in building lasting institutions. Yet even in "failure," they demonstrated that horizontal coordination could challenge entrenched power in ways traditional opposition parties never could.
Gilets Jaunes (Yellow Vests) (France, 2018-2020): Beginning as spontaneous protests against fuel taxes, the Yellow Vests movement spread across France with no central organization, no official leaders, and no formal demands beyond the symbolic yellow safety vests worn by participants. The movement coordinated through Facebook groups and local roundabouts, making decisions through direct democracy and refusing to designate representatives for government negotiations. This drove French President Emmanuel Macron to distraction: how do you negotiate with a movement that refuses to be represented? The government's eventual response included significant concessions and, tellingly, increased surveillance and restrictions on protest rights. The Yellow Vests demonstrated that even in stable Western democracies, decentralized movements could sustain pressure for months, weather police violence, and force policy changes without ever creating a formal organizational structure.
Global Wave (2019-2020): By 2019, decentralized protest had become a global phenomenon. Chile saw massive protests against inequality that began over subway fare increases but evolved into demands for constitutional change. Lebanon witnessed protests against corruption that crossed sectarian lines for the first time in decades. Hong Kong's anti-extradition protests adopted the "be water" philosophy. Catalonia erupted in protests for independence. Iraq saw youth-led uprisings against government dysfunction. These movements, separated by geography and specific grievances, shared structural similarities: leaderless organization, heavy use of encrypted messaging apps like Telegram, rejection of traditional political parties, and horizontal decision-making. They also shared a common experience: government crackdowns that targeted not just protest actions but the very capacity for decentralized coordination itself. Internet shutdowns, encryption bans, and sweeping "public order" laws became the standard authoritarian response to movements that couldn't be controlled through traditional means.
Hong Kong 2019: Protesters adopted Bruce Lee's dictum: "Be water." Formless, shapeless, impossible to contain. Using encrypted messaging and collective decision-making, they created what scholars called an "open-source protest model." China's response was predictable: a sweeping national security law that essentially criminalized the capacity for autonomous organization itself.
Black Lives Matter 2020: The movement's "leader-full" structure (everyone a potential leader, no one in ultimate command) drove critics and authorities to distraction. How do you negotiate with a movement that has no representatives empowered to negotiate? How do you suppress it when eliminating visible figures doesn't stop the mobilization?
Antifa (Anti-Fascist Action) (1980s-present): Perhaps no contemporary example better illustrates power's inability to comprehend decentralization than antifa. It's not an organization but an ideology and tactic, a label anyone can adopt with no membership requirements, dues, or leadership structure. Local autonomous cells coordinate through affinity groups, operate independently, and share only a common opposition to fascism and far-right extremism. This drove the Trump administration to attempt something structurally impossible: designating antifa as a terrorist organization. You cannot designate a non-organization as an organization. There is no "antifa" to ban, no headquarters to raid, no leaders to arrest, no assets to freeze. The very attempt revealed how hierarchical power literally cannot process horizontal resistance. When movements refuse to organize in recognizable forms, authorities resort to the absurd: declaring war on a concept. Antifa's tactics (including property destruction and confrontational counter-protest) make it controversial even among progressives, but the controversy obscures the crucial structural point: the government's frustrated response to antifa exemplifies exactly what this thesis describes. When power cannot identify, infiltrate, or negotiate with a movement, it attempts to criminalize the very capacity for anonymous, autonomous coordination. The subsequent use of "antifa" as justification for broader anti-protest legislation (despite antifa participants being a tiny fraction of protest participants) shows how authorities weaponize the existence of decentralized resistance to criminalize all decentralized organizing.
The pattern is unmistakable. Decentralized organization represents power's nightmare: a force that cannot be controlled using traditional tools of domination.
III. The Training of Obedience
Here we arrive at the crux of the problem: a population trained solely in obedience cannot practice self-governance.
The Pedagogy of Hierarchy
Modern institutional life is an extended education in hierarchical compliance:
Schools teach students to:
- Raise hands for permission to speak
- Move only when bells signal transitions
- Accept authority's right to control their bodies (bathroom passes, dress codes, movement restrictions)
- View knowledge as something transmitted from above rather than collaboratively constructed
Workplaces reinforce:
- Chain-of-command decision-making
- The illegitimacy of horizontal coordination (unions are fought, informal worker networks are discouraged)
- Individual competition over collective action
- The notion that those "above" have earned their position through merit and should be deferred to
Media constantly portrays:
- Heroic individual leaders solving problems
- Organizations succeeding through strong leadership rather than distributed action
- Collective movements as mobs requiring channeling by reasonable voices
- Hierarchy as natural, inevitable, and efficient
This isn't conspiracy: it's structural reproduction. Hierarchical institutions naturally reproduce hierarchical thinking. But the consequence is profound: citizens become psychologically and practically unprepared for the horizontal coordination that democracy requires.
The Atrophy of Collective Agency
When people spend their entire lives in hierarchical structures, several capacities atrophy:
- The ability to make decisions collectively without someone "in charge"
- The confidence to take initiative without explicit permission
- The skills to coordinate laterally rather than receiving top-down directives
- The imagination to conceive of alternatives to hierarchical organization
This is why genuine democratic participation feels so uncomfortable to many people. Town halls devolve into chaos not because democracy is unworkable, but because participants lack practice in collective deliberation. Horizontal organizations struggle not because the model is flawed, but because members keep unconsciously recreating hierarchies: the only structure they know.
You cannot hand people a democracy if you've never taught them to think democratically.
The American experiment gambled that citizens could develop these capacities. The contemporary trend toward criminalizing decentralized organization represents an abandonment of that gamble—an implicit admission that the powers-that-be no longer trust (or want) citizens capable of genuine self-governance.
IV. The Legislative Assault: Making Autonomy Illegal
The research reveals a disturbing acceleration in 2024-2025: 103 bills criminalizing protest introduced since January 2024, many specifically targeting characteristics of decentralized movements.
The New Architecture of Control
These laws don't generally ban "protest" outright (that would be too obviously unconstitutional). Instead, they target the structures and methods through which decentralized coordination becomes possible:
Masks and anonymity: Laws criminalizing masked protest don't just prevent violence: they eliminate the possibility of participation without personal risk. When every protester can be identified, tracked, and potentially punished, only those with the least to lose will participate. Decentralized movements depend on broad participation; eliminate anonymity, and you eliminate the crowd.
"Blocking traffic": Bills creating 15-year federal prison sentences for obstructing highways don't just address traffic: they criminalize the primary tactic available to movements without institutional power. When you lack access to media, government, or corporate platforms, physical disruption becomes the only way to be heard. Criminalize disruption, and you've effectively silenced those without institutional access.
University accreditation tied to protest response: This is particularly insidious. By threatening universities' funding based on how they handle "civil disturbance," the federal government creates incentives for aggressive suppression of student organizing: the traditional training ground for democratic participation.
Expanded civil liability: Laws allowing anyone "whose passage is obstructed" to sue protesters for $10,000-100,000 don't just punish: they price people out of participation. If attending a protest risks bankruptcy, only the wealthy can afford to dissent.
The DeFi Example: Controlling the Uncontrollable
The attempted regulation of decentralized finance is particularly instructive. The "DeFi Broker Rule" required decentralized platforms to collect user information, which is structurally impossible because DeFi platforms have no central operators to collect anything.
This wasn't regulatory oversight. This was regulatory impossibility as prohibition. If following the rules requires something structurally impossible, then the activity itself becomes illegal by definition.
It's the legislative equivalent of requiring butterflies to file flight plans. The absurdity reveals the purpose: not to regulate decentralization, but to eliminate it.
V. The Philosophical Betrayal
The deepest issue isn't legal or tactical: it's philosophical. The criminalization of decentralized organization represents a repudiation of democracy's core premise.
Two Visions of Political Order
Throughout history, two competing visions of political order have struggled for dominance:
The Hierarchical Vision: Order comes from clear chains of command. Legitimate authority flows from the top. Those at higher levels possess greater wisdom, competence, or moral authority. The masses require guidance from their betters. Stability depends on everyone knowing their place.
The Democratic Vision: Order emerges from horizontal coordination. Legitimate authority flows from collective consent. Wisdom is distributed throughout the population. People possess the capacity to govern themselves. Stability comes from everyone having voice and agency.
The American founding documents articulated the democratic vision, even as the founders themselves remained trapped in hierarchical thinking (see: slavery, women's disenfranchisement, property requirements for voting). But they planted a seed: the idea that ordinary people possess the capacity for self-governance.
Every generation since has struggled with the implications. Do we really believe "We the People" can govern? Or do we merely believe that "We the People" can periodically select which portion of the elite will govern us?
The Test of Conviction
Decentralized movements test democracy's convictions. They ask: Did you mean it?
When Black Lives Matter organizes without central leadership, coordinating through social media and local initiative, did you mean it when you said people have the right to assemble and petition for redress of grievances?
When protesters use encryption to coordinate beyond surveillance, did you mean it when you said people have a right to privacy and free association?
When communities create mutual aid networks that operate outside official channels, did you mean it when you said private citizens can organize to solve collective problems?
The legislative response increasingly answers: No. We did not mean it. Or at least, we no longer mean it.
VI. The Stakes: Democracy or Performance
We stand at a crossroads. One path leads toward what we might call participatory democracy, a system where citizens possess real capacity for collective action, autonomous organization, and horizontal coordination. The other leads toward performance democracy, a system where citizens vote, express opinions, and wave flags, but lack the structural capacity to challenge consolidated power.
What Is Lost
When decentralized organization becomes criminalized or impossible, we lose more than specific movements. We lose the infrastructure of democratic renewal.
Every significant expansion of American democracy came through decentralized movements that existing power structures resisted:
- The abolition of slavery
- Women's suffrage
- Labor rights and the eight-hour workday
- Civil rights and voting rights
- LGBTQ+ rights
- Environmental protection
None of these emerged through normal institutional channels. All required people organizing autonomously, often in defiance of existing law, to force institutional change.
If we criminalize the structures through which such organizing becomes possible, we haven't just restricted protest: we've frozen the current power distribution in place permanently.
The Autocrat's Dream
Autocrats understand something that democracies apparently forget: the surest way to maintain control isn't to ban opposition, but to ban the capacity for coordinated opposition.
Let people vote, if you must. Let them protest, within permitted zones and approved times. Let them speak their minds on social media. But ensure they can never coordinate effectively enough to actually challenge your rule. Require leadership you can arrest. Mandate platforms you can monitor. Criminalize structures you cannot control.
This is the logic behind China's social credit system, Russia's "foreign agent" laws, and increasingly, America's anti-protest legislation. The goal isn't silence: it's domestication. Citizens may voice dissent, but never organize it effectively.
VII. The Recovery of Democratic Capacity
If the diagnosis is correct (that we've systematically eroded the structures and capacities necessary for self-governance), then recovery requires more than policy reform. It requires cultural and institutional transformation.
Pedagogy of Democracy
We must begin teaching democratic practice, not just democratic theory:
In schools: Replace hierarchical control with genuine student governance. Not token student councils with advisory power, but real decision-making authority over significant aspects of school life. Let students experience the difficulty, frustration, and ultimately empowerment of collective self-governance.
In workplaces: Expand cooperative ownership and democratic management. Workers cannot practice democracy eight hours a day in autocratic workplaces and then suddenly become capable democratic citizens in the evening.
In communities: Support mutual aid networks, local assemblies, and horizontal organizations. The Founders understood this: democracy requires practice in what they called "civic virtue"—the skills and habits of collective self-governance.
Legal Protection for Horizontal Organization
We need constitutional and legislative frameworks that explicitly protect decentralized organization:
- Right to anonymous association: As fundamental as freedom of speech
- Right to coordinate: Including through encryption and digital platforms
- Right to disrupt: Recognizing that those without institutional power have few other tools
- Protection for leaderless organization: Acknowledging its legitimacy as an organizational form
Cultural Revaluation
Perhaps most importantly, we need a cultural shift in how we understand legitimate political action. Currently, our imagination is captured by:
- The heroic individual leader (the "Great Man" theory of history)
- The professional organization with staff and hierarchy
- The orderly protest that inconveniences no one
We need to expand our cultural recognition to include:
- Emergent coordination without designated leaders
- Distributed action without central organization
- Constructive disruption as legitimate democratic speech
- Horizontal power as equal in legitimacy to vertical power
VIII. Conclusion: The Choice Before Us
The pattern is clear and the stakes are existential. We face a choice between two futures:
Future A: We continue down the current path, criminalizing decentralized organization in the name of order and security. Citizens retain the form of democracy—voting, symbolic speech, permitted protest—but lose the substance: the capacity for autonomous collective action that could challenge consolidated power. Democracy becomes a performance we execute rather than a practice we live.
Future B: We recognize decentralized organization as fundamental to self-governance and protect it as rigorously as we protect speech. We rebuild the cultural, legal, and educational infrastructure necessary for genuine democratic capacity. We accept the messiness, inefficiency, and occasional chaos that comes with real participation. We recommit to the radical experiment the Founders initiated: that ordinary people, collectively, possess the wisdom to govern themselves.
The first future is tidier, more predictable, easier to manage. It's also not democracy—not really. It's oligarchy with democratic aesthetics.
The second future is uncertain, challenging, sometimes frightening. It requires trusting people with power that they might use in ways we don't approve. It means accepting that self-governance is a learned skill that requires practice, including the practice of failing and trying again.
But only the second future takes seriously the premise that began this entire experiment: "We the People."
Not "You the Elite, elected by us."
Not "We the Obedient Citizens, occasionally consulted."
We the People—chaotic, imperfect, learning as we go, but ultimately capable of governing ourselves.
The choice is ours. But we must choose soon. The architecture of control is being built rapidly, justified by crisis after crisis. Each law that criminalizes decentralized organization, each surveillance system that eliminates privacy, each requirement that makes autonomous coordination illegal: these are bricks in a structure designed to last.
A people trained only to obey cannot suddenly become capable of self-governance when democracy needs defending. The capacity for collective self-determination must be continuously practiced, or it atrophies beyond recovery.
The question isn't whether decentralized movements are always right, or whether their tactics are always justified. The question is whether "We the People" remains more than rhetoric: whether we still believe, despite everything, that ordinary citizens possess the capacity to organize themselves, coordinate with each other, and collectively govern their shared life.
If we do not, we should stop calling it democracy and name it honestly: elective oligarchy with participatory aesthetics.
But if we do (if we genuinely believe in the capacity for self-governance), then we must protect and nurture the structures through which that capacity becomes real. That means defending decentralized organization as fundamental to democracy itself, regardless of whether particular movements make us comfortable.
The founders gambled that people could govern themselves. We're now deciding whether to continue that gamble or to fold our hand and admit they were wrong.
History will judge us not by what we said we believed, but by which structures we protected and which we dismantled.
"In the truest sense, freedom cannot be bestowed; it must be achieved." (Franklin D. Roosevelt)
The capacity for self-governance cannot be granted by authorities. It must be built, practiced, and defended, often against those same authorities. That is the paradox at the heart of democracy, and the challenge that each generation must meet anew.