When Power Steps Outside the Lines

People stop at red lights.
They wear seat belts.
They stand in line and wait their turn.

It’s remarkable, really—how much of our daily life runs on willing self-restraint. We obey not through force or surveillance, but through a quiet, internalized consent to follow rules and respect norms. Somewhere, we understand that our safety—our collective wellbeing—depends on these tacit agreements.

At its best, power is a shared agreement.

But that didn’t happen overnight. The shift from power as brute force to power as social contract was a long, hard-fought evolution. Centuries of conflict, negotiation, and reform slowly moved power into constitutions, laws, and democratic processes. And that work continues.

Still, it’s a fragile system. It relies on trust. On transparency. On the free flow of information. And many of its foundations aren’t laws at all, but norms—often unwritten, quietly upheld. We assume things like, “A CEO shouldn’t use company funds for personal expenses.” Or, “A President shouldn’t sell access to foreign dignitaries.” We assume these are obvious—until someone doesn’t.

We don’t realize how much we rely on shared agreements until someone steps outside the lines.

Right now, we’re watching a President test those lines—defying constitutional norms, challenging the rule of law, daring the system to stop him. It’s a singular and deeply troubling moment.

The danger is this: norms only hold if enough of us hold them.

And humans, being social creatures, are wired to follow the current. Everyday life functions precisely because most people restrain themselves, obey, and go along. So when someone breaks that pact—when someone burns the house down—we freeze. Eyes wide. Mouths open. Stunned into inaction. Our brains scramble to explain what we’re seeing:

And in that moment—between violation and response—power grabs take root. The new behavior becomes the new normal before we’ve even found our footing.

This isn’t just political. We see it in organizations, communities, even families. Maybe it’s the colleague who constantly interrupts. The manager who misses deadlines without consequence. The boss who makes inappropriate comments that everyone laughs off nervously.

When norms are breached, social agreements broken, we need to think of ourselves not as passive witnesses—but as bystanders. And being a bystander is not neutral. It’s a role with power.

Bystander intervention—used effectively in harassment prevention, public safety, and campus culture—teaches us to recognize that moment of hesitation and move through it. It builds confidence and capacity to step in.

Sometimes that means naming what’s happening:

Sometimes it means checking in privately:

Sometimes it means enlisting allies:

The scale is different—workplace vs. government—but the principle is the same:
Unchecked power stretches the boundaries of what’s permissible.

So it matters that we notice. That we name it. That we push back. Because each time we do, we build the muscles we’ll need for bigger breaches. Every time we reinforce a standard, we strengthen not just a team or a culture, but the broader scaffolding we all depend on.

The great vulnerability—and great beauty—of the rule of law is that it only works if we believe in it.
And insist that it matters.